Chapter 159
Chapter 159
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 159
Chapter Title: Yangyang
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Unlike his talk of tracking down the escaped Salmak assassins, Hyun-gong was stealthily tailing Dang Mujin’s group from a discreet distance.
He hadn’t truly mastered any tracking skills, and besides, he wanted to build more rapport with Namgung Myeong and Hong Geolgae.
When Dang Mujin’s group approached the Jin Family Manor, Hyun-gong hid in a spot a little ways off, peeking out to survey the surroundings.
Contrary to expectations of an immediate clash of blades, Namgung Myeong stood atop the main hall while Hong Geolgae perched on the wall, both overlooking the manor as if declaring they wouldn’t intervene in the fight.
*What are they doing?*
Common sense dictated that Dang Mujin couldn’t handle the assassins alone.
Yet, with Namgung Myeong and Hong Geolgae staying out of it, a commotion erupted from within the Jin Family Manor, and flames soon burst from the main hall.
It meant the assassins had been defeated, ending the fight.
Hyun-gong couldn’t make sense of it.
*Did Dang Mujin take them all out by himself? He didn’t seem that skilled. Was the martial art he learned from the Strange Physician that powerful? Or did he have some unseen ally I missed?*
As Hyun-gong pondered, disciples of the Supreme Medical Sword Sect came charging from the other end of the alley. Hyun-gong shrank back down to observe.
*This is going to be a massive brawl.*
He perked up his ears and waited. If by some chance Dang Mujin’s group started losing, he planned to slip in and lend a hand.
Sure, the Supreme Medical Sword Sect disciples might curse him out, but if no survivors were left, there’d be no issue.
*Actually, even survivors wouldn’t be a problem.*
Given the location, it wouldn’t be hard to paint the Supreme Medical Sword Sect and Salmak as allies. And it was partly true, anyway.
A twinge of conscience pricked at him, but wasn’t that just the harsh reality of the martial world?
Yet the Jin Family Manor remained quiet. No clashing steel or screams rang out.
Only the crackling of burning wood—crackle, crackle—echoed.
*Did they resolve it peacefully through talk? Is that even possible?*
Whatever the case, it was time to move.
Hyun-gong stood, jogged in place, twisted his body this way and that, and worked up a sweat.
Moments later, as Dang Mujin’s group emerged from the manor, Hyun-gong dashed over, wiping his brow with his sleeve.
“Damn. I rushed back hoping to help even a little, and it’s already over?”
“Yeah. Didn’t take long. Any luck on your end?”
When Dang Mujin asked, Hyun-gong shook his head.
“They’re assassins, alright—the trail was faint as hell. I pushed my skills to follow as far as I could, but once they hit the woods, it was impossible.”
He followed it up with a crestfallen expression. It was so convincing that no one doubted his story.
Dang Mujin hadn’t expected much anyway and nodded lightly.
“Well, if we could’ve easily tracked an assassin’s trail, that’d be the real surprise. Anyway, good work. Hope we cross paths again someday.”
As Dang Mujin treated the parting as a done deal, Hyun-gong panicked.
Dang Mujin’s business was finished, but his wasn’t.
*I can’t let them slip away here.*
Hyun-gong’s standing in the Wudang Sect was solid, but not unrivaled.
He was undoubtedly the top among his peers, but expand the scope beyond his age group, and plenty outshone him in attainment.
*Too young to aim for sect leader yet. But the one after next—that seat has to be mine.*
The problem was, leading now didn’t guarantee leading forever.
He had years before competing for sect leader, and who knew who might achieve great mastery down the line. Martial arts were full of late bloomers surging ahead.
Fortunately, sect leadership wasn’t decided by martial prowess alone.
Skill, character, reputation, ties to the previous leader—all factored in to name the successor.
That’s why Hyun-gong racked his brain for any edge to secure the position.
Even if someone surpassed him in skill someday, a path to leadership.
And he’d found one: connections.
With Wudang rising to join the Nine Great Sects, nearby Daoist sects like the Zhongnan and Huashan were subtly checking them.
Wudang had shored up its foundations but struggled to expand its influence.
So, what if he brought the next Beggars’ Sect Leader and Namgung family heir to Wudang Mountain to flaunt their friendship?
*They’d see me as their equal, subtly.*
Who in Wudang would rub shoulders with the next Beggars’ Sect Leader and Namgung heir?
The next Wudang Sect Leader, naturally—the one to expand Wudang’s reach and lead the Nine Great Sects.
Hyun-gong glanced at Dang Mujin, having weighed it all in a breath.
Dang Mujin was a notch below, but at just over thirty, being named among the Three Great Physicians marked him as a prodigy.
*Fine. You barely pass.*
The judgment flashed in an instant.
Hyun-gong feigned surprise.
“Dang Mujin. You’re covered in blood—think you can make it back to Sichuan like that?”
Dang Mujin had picked up minor cuts fighting the assassins.
Blood soaked his clothes in spots, staining them red, but nothing deep enough for Hyun-gong’s fuss.
“It’s fine. Won’t even scar.”
“Whoa, brushing it off like that’s how problems start. Plenty of folks have regrets.”
Dang Mujin stared at Hyun-gong.
Hyun-gong got the message right away.
“…Of course, my medical knowledge doesn’t compare to yours. But better safe than sorry, right?”
“Hmm.”
Not convincing enough, apparently. Hyun-gong ad-libbed.
“Plus, now that we’ve forged this bond, splitting up feels like a waste. How about staying a day or two at Wudang?”
“Well…”
“Think positive. Who knows? Fate might land you a Pure Azure Pill.”
The Pure Azure Pill wasn’t the top elixir like the Great Return Pill, but it held immense value any martial artist would covet—a natural draw for swordsmen.
Yet Dang Mujin showed no real reaction, even at the mention.
After claiming a Great Return Pill from Shaolin, he was convinced ordinary elixirs wouldn’t yield much progress anymore.
What he needed now was insight and experience, not the raw inner energy from pills.
When the Pure Azure Pill didn’t sway him, Hyun-gong checked Hong Geolgae and Namgung Myeong’s reactions.
But their gazes fixed on Dang Mujin, deferring to his call.
Hyun-gong couldn’t fathom how Dang Mujin held the reins here. By skill or status, he wasn’t leader material.
He pressed again.
“Anything urgent pulling you back?”
“Wedding’s soon. Invited guests already.”
Ah, that explained it. Hyun-gong flashed a warm smile.
“Really? Then how about we swing by Wudang together, then head to Sichuan as a group?”
“Together?”
“Yeah! We’ve fought back-to-back with swords drawn. As Wudang’s representative, I’d love to celebrate your wedding.”
A casual pitch.
But Dang Mujin seemed more tempted by an extra wedding guest than the pill. Hyun-gong looked a bit deflated.
*…Why does this work?*
Anyway, it landed. Hyun-gong seized the moment.
“We’re headed the same way anyhow. Not asking you to linger—just time to resupply before Sichuan. A day or two tops. And you won’t want for comfort. Wudang food’s simple, not lavish, but damn tasty. Oh, and we’ve got a divine sword.”
He tossed out bait like a fisherman.
At “divine sword,” Dang Mujin’s ears perked up.
“Divine sword?”
“Yeah. Ever heard of the Pine Pattern Ancient Sword?”
“Nope. First time.”
“It’s not widely known, but I swear, it’s the finest sword under heaven. If you meet the sect leader, maybe you can take a look.”
The finest sword under heaven.
Something boiled in Dang Mujin’s chest. How exceptional must it be to claim that title outright?
He gauged the delay: two days, three at most.
*Plenty of time.*
Thinking positively, reasons to visit piled up.
How often does one get invited to a prestigious righteous sect? Curiosity about hot-shot Wudang bubbled too.
“Alright. It’s not far—why not stop by.”
Dang Mujin nodded.
*
The Supreme Medical Sword Sect Leader had tossed away his sword, but he couldn’t discard his anguish.
He couldn’t lift his spoon at meals or sleep in bed.
*Father’s killer was right there, yet fear paralyzed me—I couldn’t swing my blade.*
If his father had been a villain, he might’ve brushed it off. But he deeply revered his father: upright in all things, strict yet kind.
Nor was he alone; every disciple honored the former leader, and Yangyang folk spoke highly of him.
Martial sects often extorted locals under pretexts, running on protection fees or monopolies.
But the Supreme Medical Sword Sect Leader funded them from No Gunsan spoils, no need to prey on Yangyang. No wonder the people revered him.
Dang Mujin’s words resurfaced.
—Your father’s death was regrettable. But you know it wasn’t baseless killing, Sect Leader.
He muttered.
*Baseless killing? Implying my father committed some evil?*
While others fleeced hundreds or thousands, the former leader squeezed far fewer to sustain the sect.
Better fewer suffer than many.
And they weren’t innocents—bandits clinging to life in the wilds.
The former leader had said they should be grateful, giving purpose to worthless lives.
The current leader agreed.
Killing intent surged.
His eyes fell on the sword in the corner—the one he’d hurled away yesterday. Half-charred hilt, blunted blade from heat.
Even that pathetic thing—he yearned to wield it and behead the wicked.
True heroes rise from defeat to command the world, no?
But Dang Mujin’s face and voice intruded.
—Don’t draw your sword. I can’t predict how massive my retaliation would be.
His hands trembled.
Terror gripped him. That kind face staring intently, eyes like a half-mad man’s—terrifying.
Each word rang true, not bluff. Dang Mujin’s superior skill, his gang—pure dread.
He shook his head.
*No, I’m not abandoning revenge out of fear. I’d throw my life like chaff for father’s sake. Just worried about failure. He’d burn our disciples alive, like those assassins…*
The Supreme Medical Sword Sect Leader sighed deeply and lay down.
His thoughts looped endlessly.
Resentment, fear, surrender. Vengeful fire, fear, surrender again.
His breath quickened. If only someone to lean on, for aid.
Then, a thought brushed his mind.
*…Someone to lean on?*
Hyun-gong’s transmission echoed vividly.
—I’ll capture them, so don’t worry! We’ll vindicate the former leader!
…Where was Hyun-gong?
A righteous famed martial artist like him wouldn’t back down from villains.
But Hyun-gong hadn’t returned. Probably slain by them.
A solution dawned.
*Just report Hyun-gong’s death to Wudang.*
Even haughty Wudang couldn’t ignore a disciple’s murder.
*It’ll work. Has to.*
The Supreme Medical Sword Sect Leader bolted up and headed for Wudang Mountain.