Chapter 170
Chapter 170
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 170
Chapter Title: Pingli Village
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Dang Mujin's group arrived at the riverbank thick with reeds. It was a tributary of the Yellow River, but the name hardly did it justice—the river was vast, nearly a hundred zhang across. Even for those versed in martial arts, it was too wide to leap over in a single bound.
The four of them looked around the river's edge. The current was sluggish, with no waves in sight, making it a suitable spot for a ferry. Yet no boatman was anywhere to be seen.
"Let's wait a bit."
"Sure."
Still, the group didn't grow impatient. Boatmen rarely made their living solely from ferrying passengers.
Ferrying was typically a side job. They would tend to their farms nearby and, when someone appeared wanting to cross, retrieve a boat hidden among the reeds, carry the passengers over, and collect their fee.
As they waited for a boatman to appear, Namgung Myeong nudged Hong Geolgae.
"You've been training hard, right?"
"Yeah."
Hong Geolgae had devoted far more time to training than the others. Eat breakfast, train; eat lunch, train; eat dinner, train some more.
Of the four, Hong Geolgae had the least martial talent. But he was undoubtedly the most earnest in his cultivation.
As a result, he had progressed to the point where, with the right opportunity, he could break through the wall to peak-level mastery.
Put another way, he was still only first-rate.
Namgung Myeong pointed to the duckweed floating on the water's surface.
"No telling when a boatman will show. Should we cross with the Floating Duckweed Technique?"
The Floating Duckweed Technique—crossing water by stepping on drifting duckweed or water plants, a pinnacle lightness skill.
Not even Hong Geolgae among them could perform such an advanced movement art, let alone the others.
So Hong Geolgae didn't back down. He plucked a reed leaf nearby and set it afloat on the water.
"I'll follow slowly, so you go ahead with the One-Leaf River Crossing and wait on the other side."
No one there could cross a river on a single leaf either. Maybe Namgung Jincheon could pull off such a feat.
While Namgung Myeong and Hong Geolgae bickered, yielding the turn to each other, Dang Mujin imagined masters crossing the river on leaves.
A petite figure like Nun Hwayeon riding a leaf across would seem natural enough. But picturing the Three-Eyed Monk doing the same was utterly impossible.
Lost in thought, Hyun-gong suddenly jumped to his feet and looked aside. A boat was approaching—likely returning after dropping off passengers.
When opportunity knocks, seize it—that was an eternal truth.
Hyun-gong dashed over, calling to the boatman.
"Hey, boatman! Give us a ride across!"
The boatman, thinking lady luck had smiled on him, rowed vigorously toward the group.
But the moment he spotted the weapons hanging from Hyun-gong and Dang Mujin's group's waists, his expression turned deadly serious.
He eyed them cautiously for a long moment before reluctantly docking the boat.
Dang Mujin spoke up.
"We're four crossing the river. How much for the fare?"
The boatman mumbled evasively.
"Oh, no charge. It's an honor for a lowly fool like me to ferry martial artists like you..."
"Pardon?"
Hong Geolgae shook his head.
"The locals have such a terrible view of martial artists around here. Boatman, sir—we're not from these parts; we came from way down south. We'll pay the fare, so relax."
"Oh, no need. What money..."
"How much for one person all the way across?"
"Thirty copper pieces..."
"Hand over the money."
Hong Geolgae acted like he'd pay himself, then naturally demanded cash from Dang Mujin. Was this beggary too?
The boatman's face was a mix of emotions—delighted by the decent sum, yet visibly tense.
"We won't cause trouble, so don't worry."
"Yes, sir."
Dang Mujin and Hong Geolgae boarded first. The boatman pushed off the riverbed with a long pole, then rowed diligently.
Dang Mujin asked Hong Geolgae,
"What was that about martial artists' reputation?"
"You know how people don't look kindly on even righteous sect martial artists, right?"
"True enough."
Dang Mujin hadn't become a martial artist until he was twenty, so he understood perfectly.
When people trained to kill wear swords at their waists and roam in packs, even if they don't harm anyone, it instinctively repulses. And sometimes they do harm, making it worse.
"But the so-called prestigious righteous sects are all south of this river. North of here, righteous martial artists are rare to begin with. They're not the best neighbors, but compared to unorthodox fighters or dark path riffraff, they're saints."
"That bad?"
"Why do you think the boatman refused payment? Demand it, and they lop your head off like it's nothing. Not all unorthodox are like that, but too many are."
The boat creaked forward. Soon, they reached the opposite bank.
*
Following Hong Geolgae, Dang Mujin's group traveled all day and arrived at the village around evening.
"What's this village called?"
"Pingli Village."
Having seen the boatman's nervous demeanor, they stowed their swords in their packs before entering.
Hong Geolgae's bamboo staff was the exception. Made of some unknown material, it looked like an ordinary bamboo cane.
The people of Pingli Village looked a bit different from typical southern folk, and a subtle tension lingered on their faces.
Dang Mujin couldn't say why their features differed, but the source of their tension was clear enough.
Whenever someone with a sword at their waist appeared, the villagers would step back and bow their heads silently.
"The mood here's pretty grim."
"Those thugs must be real pieces of work."
But then an amusing scene unfolded.
The swaggering swordsmen froze noticeably upon spotting Hong Geolgae. They averted their eyes sharply and edged backward.
Namgung Myeong asked Hong Geolgae,
"What's this? They seem to recognize you."
"I've been to Pingli Village a couple times."
"That's not all it is. What'd you do?"
"There were some thugs causing trouble, so I cracked a few skulls."
The other three stared at Hong Geolgae as if realizing something new.
Truth be told, Hong Geolgae's usual meekness wasn't due to weak skill. It was just unfortunate circumstance—too many powerhouses around him.
Even many sect leaders of minor Chengdu factions were inferior in prowess. The Seongnim Sect Leader who'd crossed swords with Dang Mujin via Ban Yonggwol was weaker than Hong Geolgae.
To match or slightly exceed Hong Geolgae, you'd need a mid-tier sect leader from a decent-sized city—one per major town, if that.
Hong Geolgae puffed out his chest and strode confidently. The swordsmen fled at his mere appearance, and villagers began gathering around him slyly.
One man approached especially eagerly. Covered in flour, he was clearly the innkeeper.
He nudged Hyun-gong aside from Hong Geolgae's side, stuck close, and rubbed his hands.
"Young hero Hong! So glad to see you again. Since fate brought you, allow me to treat you to a meal?"
"Of course."
"Oh, no charge, naturally. Haha! And these folks with you?"
"My subordinates."
Hong Geolgae spouted nonsense, but no one contradicted him.
They'd bantered like this plenty before, and sometimes even Hong Geolgae deserved to strut before acquaintances.
Hearing he had attendants, the innkeeper beamed even more.
"Heh heh. Of course. Retainers of Great Hero Hong deserve the same hospitality. Follow me, everyone!"
The innkeeper led Hong Geolgae to the inn like a lord.
The reason for his desperate eagerness became clear soon enough.
Three ruffians who screamed "thug for life" lounged inside, all flushed from drink.
Dang Mujin thought, eyeing them,
'They look like the type who never pay for food.'
If they just skipped the bill, it'd be lucky. With them around, other customers would surely back out.
Hyun-gong scanned the room. Countless sharp gashes marred the walls and tables—evidence of how many brawlers had rampaged here.
Of course, Dang Mujin, Hyun-gong, or Namgung Myeong had no need to intervene and chase them off.
The thugs bellowed and guzzled until they spotted Hong Geolgae entering. They shot up, huddled meekly in a corner.
The innkeeper glared at them, then guided the group cheerfully.
"This way, please!"
As Dang Mujin's group sat at the inn's center, the three thugs crab-walked toward the exit. Hong Geolgae pointed them out.
"They're trying to leave. Did they pay?"
The thugs reacted faster than the innkeeper.
"Whoops, almost forgot. How much?"
"Two taels of silver."
They emptied their pouches to pay, shot Hong Geolgae a glance as they exited, and the innkeeper and waiter broke into bright smiles.
Hong Geolgae paid his own way. His presence covered the tab.
"Young hero Hong! One moment!"
The innkeeper dashed to the kitchen and got to work.
Not boiling water, but frying and stir-frying sounds—clearly no simple noodles or dumplings.
Soon, two bottles of cheap but quality baijiu and generous appetizers covered the table. As the group began a satisfying dinner, a commotion erupted at the entrance.
Bang!
Someone kicked the door open. One of the thugs who'd slunk out moments ago.
Whatever happened in the interim, he bellowed at Hong Geolgae confidently.
"You beggar bastard Hong Geolgae. Didn't I say I'd kill you if you came back to Pingli Village?"
Hong Geolgae responded tepidly.
"Don't recall that."
"Must be deaf. Anyway, today's your funeral!"
"Hmm."
Hong Geolgae rose, thumping his staff on the floor, and stared the thug down.
Unfazed, the thug stepped aside and yelled,
"Elders Danghang Three Lights! Now!"
So he had backup after all.
As the thug sidestepped, three far fiercer-looking martial artists appeared.
All three wore massive swords like slaughtering blades—striking indeed.
'All three have definitely surpassed first-rate entry.'
Even for Hong Geolgae, three-on-one wouldn't be easy. The thug's bravado had basis. Sometimes you just needed more than basis.
The Danghang Three Lights glared fiercely at Hong Geolgae. Then at Dang Mujin, then Namgung Myeong.
The thug shouted boldly.
"Those beggar scum!"
But the Danghang Three Lights didn't snarl as the thug hoped.
"Enjoy your meal..."
Instead, they offered humble, amiable smiles, bowed briefly, and turned to leave.
Then they heard the door shut behind them. Click.
Hyun-gong had closed the inn's door.