The Dragon Gate Beckons
The next afternoon.
Jang Muhwi gazed at his distant home and clasped his hands in a respectful bow.
“I will return safely. And I will put this money to good use, Father.”
After paying his respects, he patted the bundle at his side. Two heavy money pouches rested within.
Just then, Cheolwoo came running up from behind, panting under the weight of his own pack.
“Huff, huff. I’m coming with you, Young Master.”
“Why all the fuss?”
“Shouldn’t you at least tell someone before you leave? What is this Dragon Gate Assembly anyway? Are you really going? And you actually received the Soryongpae, didn’t you?”
Cheolwoo’s lips spun like a waterwheel, questions pouring out without pause.
“You rascal. One question at a time.”
“Then did you really receive the Soryongpae?”
“Here it is!”
When Jang Muhwi waved the plaque, Cheolwoo’s eyes widened.
“Is that the real Soryongpae, the one only the Murim Alliance’s most promising juniors can receive? The one mixed with silver and Dark Iron…?”
“Yes. It’s genuine.”
“Hmm. Who managed to trick you this time? This is a conspiracy. A conspiracy!”
“What nonsense are you spouting?”
“Inviting you to the Dragon Gate Assembly doesn’t make sense in the first place. You’ll only suffer humiliation if you go. Last time, when you tried to save me, you—”
Cheolwoo’s emotions surged; tears welled in his eyes.
In truth, if Cheolwoo had not fallen asleep at Pajuk Seonsaeng’s house, he might have overheard the conversation between the old master and Jang Muhwi. But he had been sound asleep in the next room, so he knew nothing of their exchange.
At that moment, Cheolwoo’s mind was filled with the image of Jang Muhwi using himself as bait to lure the masked man away. Normally, Jang Muhwi made him do all the dirty work, yet when it truly mattered, he sacrificed himself to protect his subordinate and a helpless elder. Such a person did not exist in this world.
How desperately must he have fled for his entire body to be covered in dust and blood?
Of course, this was all Cheolwoo’s misunderstanding. Unless Jang Muhwi revealed it himself, no one could know that the masked pursuer had been Wi Gunak.
Jang Muhwi let out a soft chuckle and pointed ahead.
“That’s enough. Let’s go.”
“Just one more question. You do know when the Dragon Gate Assembly is held, right?”
“Of course. Do you think I’d go without knowing? It starts on the eleventh day of the sixth month.”
“Ah, the eleventh… that’s—”
Cheolwoo’s expression suddenly hardened.
“Why the long face?”
“Isn’t that only three days from now? Who announces something like this only three days in advance? The more I think about it, the more suspicious it seems, Young Master.”
“Stop talking nonsense and hurry up.”
With that, Jang Muhwi strode forward. Cheolwoo hurried after him and asked anxiously,
“You know the way, don’t you, Young Master?”
“Obviously.”
“How would you know the way? I should guide you using the map I received from the Enforcement Hall Chief.”
“No need!”
Jang Muhwi waved him off and quickened his pace. Yet his mind remained calmer than ever.
Attending the Dragon Gate Assembly was a luxury he had never enjoyed in his previous life. Most families in Qinghai strained every nerve to send their children to the assembly. It was akin to the imperial provincial examinations.
If those exams selected talent for the state, the Dragon Gate Assembly selected talent for the orthodox sects. Just as the successful candidates were not predetermined, neither were the results of the Dragon Gate Assembly.
Moreover, earning recognition at the assembly carried greater weight than one might expect. Those acknowledged gained priority access to Murim Alliance missions—not only for themselves, but also for their families, who could then participate in the Alliance’s various enterprises.
Yet only a fixed set of families ever produced juniors who passed and earned recognition. In Qinghai, roughly the top ten families monopolized everything. No family had ever broken into that circle before.
This was why everyone suspected a conspiracy behind Jang Muhwi’s invitation. They believed the Alliance simply needed a backdrop to make other juniors shine brighter.
Jang Muhwi found himself smiling without realizing it. If he relied on his memories of the previous life, they had not even given him the chance to play that backdrop role.
Of course, he had no intention of settling for being mere scenery this time. Even a dragon painted on a folding screen could ascend to the heavens if drawn well enough.
Swallowing his laughter, Jang Muhwi moved lightly forward. Cheolwoo, burdened with the pack, followed in a hurry, tilting his head in confusion.
“Young Master seems… different somehow.”
North of Qinghai Lake stood a vast estate. Above its entrance hung a sturdy plaque bearing only a single character: Orthodox.
This was the Murim Alliance Qinghai Branch.
Spanning over ten thousand pyeong, the Qinghai Branch served as the symbol of the orthodox factions in the region. Because of its immense grounds, it usually appeared quiet. Today, however, it bustled with preparations to receive guests.
Though only about sixty juniors were attending the Dragon Gate Assembly, each had brought nearly ten attendants. The branch was lively with activity as staff hurried to accommodate them all.
Amid the commotion, an awkward silence filled the reception hall. Wang Jimak, the Qinghai Branch Chief, sat before a steaming cup of tea, silently regarding his guest.
Across from him sat a broad-shouldered middle-aged man whose half-broken eyebrows twitched. He had the fierce appearance of a demonic path cultivator; anyone who met him on the road might mistake him for one.
After studying the man for a moment, Wang Jimak spoke.
“Where did the Go player go, Gudo?”
“Hmm. Just give me one move.”
The man called Gudo twitched his eyebrows again. He was Gudo Mosang, the Gansu Branch Chief of the Murim Alliance. The nickname “Gudo” (Blade Seeker) came from his broken saber, shattered during a duel with a demonic path expert. The broken eyebrows were from the same fight.
Ever since, he had searched for a new blade worthy of replacing it. Ten years of fruitless searching had earned him the title “Blade Seeker.” In the end, he continued using the broken saber—and with it, he eventually achieved his revenge. That feat had elevated him to the position of Gansu Branch Chief.
Wang Jimak chuckled at his friend.
“Heh. Isn’t Go just war in miniature?”
“You won’t give me any leeway?”
“Who yields moves in war?”
“That’s always your problem.”
Mosang placed a stone on the board.
Clack!
The crisp sound echoed across the board. Mosang declared,
“I placed it just as you said.”
“Hmm. Are you playing games with me now?”
“Does this look like a game to you?”
“You think I didn’t notice you placed two stones?”
Wang Jimak narrowed his eyes and pointed at the two stones. Mosang grinned.
“That’s your problem—too rigid. Sometimes you have to pretend not to see things.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“Think about what you did at the Sichuan Dragon Gate Assembly last time!”
“I merely followed the rules.”
“Sigh. With that kind of inflexibility… Do you know the Sichuan Branch Chief is grinding his teeth right now?”
“Why would he, when I followed the rules?”
“You should have looked the other way at least once.”
In truth, Mosang was using the game as an excuse to lecture Wang Jimak. Sometimes one had to feign ignorance and accept a favor. But Wang Jimak was utterly devoid of flexibility, and it often cost him.
The Sichuan Dragon Gate Assembly was a prime example. Wang Jimak had flatly rejected the Sichuan Branch Chief’s request to show leniency toward one of the Sichuan Tang Clan’s direct descendants.
Mosang glared. Wang Jimak merely shrugged.
“Even if I went back in time, nothing would change.”
“Dokhwa is grinding her teeth. Be careful.”
“What do I have to be careful about? The juniors attending the assembly should be the ones watching their step.”
Wang Jimak chuckled. The examiners for the Dragon Gate Assembly were the branch chiefs of neighboring regions. Their judgments determined who passed. Wang Jimak had long since lost any attachment to the Qinghai martial world. No matter what schemes the other chiefs employed, he cared only that unqualified candidates did not slip through.
At that moment, the reception hall door opened.
Creak!
Wang Jimak turned instinctively. A woman in green robes, a slender sword at her waist, stood smiling in the doorway. She paused on the threshold, then fluttered her green sleeves. Her face appeared even paler against the green attire, and her delicate jawline made her look younger than her years.
She walked in, stopped before a chair, folded her arms, and regarded both men.
Wang Jimak rose from his seat.
“Dokhwa, welcome. Have you been well?”
“Hoho. Do I look well to you?”
The woman gave Wang Jimak a thin smile. She was the Dokhwa Mosang had mentioned—Dang Jihwa, a direct descendant of the Sichuan Tang Clan and the Sichuan Branch Chief of the Murim Alliance. Her gaze was anything but friendly. If looks could kill, Wang Jimak’s head would already be rolling across the floor.
Despite her icy stare, Wang Jimak continued calmly.
“You look well enough from here…”
“Thanks to someone, I haven’t slept a wink. I wonder who that could be?”
“How would I know?”
“Fine. I’ll follow the rules as well. You’d better be prepared.”
“As long as you follow the rules, I have no complaints.”
“Really? If even one junior I approve of appears… then I’ll acknowledge your precious rules. Hoho.”
With a cold laugh, Dang Jihwa turned and left the hall.
In the chilly silence that followed, Mosang patted Wang Jimak’s shoulder.
“If you don’t win her over now, this Dragon Gate Assembly will be a disaster.”
“Well, as long as everyone follows the rules…”
Wang Jimak shrugged indifferently. Mosang let out a short laugh.
“In a way, it might become the fairest assembly yet. Though it will also be the harshest trial for the juniors. Haha.”
Mosang laughed heartily.
The next morning.
A crowd gathered before the Qinghai Branch gates, waiting for them to open. Among those waiting were not only the junior candidates but also merchants hoping to profit from the Dragon Gate Assembly. The main gate resembled a bustling marketplace.
Juniors who knew one another exchanged greetings. Then the massive doors slowly swung open.
Rumble.
The moment the gates parted, every junior vanished inside in an instant. Only one remained outside, calmly surveying his surroundings.
It was Jang Muhwi.