Chapter 215
Chapter 215
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 215
Chapter Title: Dang Family Fortress
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When Dang Mujin emerged from his room, the first thing that caught his eye was the large bamboo hat mixed in among his companions.
It was rare to see anyone wearing a bamboo hat indoors, and even rarer to see someone eating a meal with it on.
Dang Mujin hurriedly scanned his surroundings, then recalled that Jeong Taeryeong and her brother Jeong Okryeong had left Wuchang the previous evening.
Dang Mujin let out a sigh of relief. He had avoided the most awkward encounter possible in this situation.
As he lingered, trying to gauge the scene, Hyeon-gong quickly turned and beckoned him over.
Hyeon-gong then subtly shifted to the side, offering the seat next to him. It was an invitation to join.
'I had no intention of sitting down.'
Still, it would be rude to refuse when a spot had been made for him. With mild reluctance, Dang Mujin sat beside Hyeon-gong.
"Hyeon-gong. What's going on here?"
"What else? We were just eating together."
They hadn't been this chummy just yesterday. To guess how long this had been going on, Dang Mujin glanced at the table.
Blood Rain Guest was on his second bowl of porridge, clearly hungry, while Hyeon-gong's bowl was half-empty.
In contrast, there were no bowls in front of Namgung Myeong, Hong Geolgae, or Wang Jincheong. Though the innkeeper was just then bringing bowls for the three of them.
Morning porridge was typically prepared in advance in generous quantities, then reheated and served when guests arrived.
In other words, the other three had just joined Blood Rain Guest and Hyeon-gong.
'Did these guys get swept up in Hyeon-gong's wake too?'
Just as Dang Mujin was about to demand an explanation, Hyeon-gong turned to Blood Rain Guest with a playful grin.
"Brother... Oh dear! Look at me. I should call you elder, but the words keep slipping out wrong."
Blood Rain Guest replied with feigned helplessness.
"No helping it. Call me however you're comfortable."
"Haha. Brother Jang. Is that alright?"
Dang Mujin witnessed a historic moment with his own eyes.
His friend, who was merely two years his senior, addressing a super-peak unorthodox master well past sixty as brothers.
It was likely unprecedented in the entire history of the Central Plains martial world.
Yet inwardly, Dang Mujin felt relieved. At least the address hadn't sunk to something like "Hey, Jang."
Dang Mujin poked Hyeon-gong's side and whispered.
"Hyeon-gong. Were you originally acquainted with Blood... I mean, that gentleman?"
Dang Mujin fumbled over the proper address.
Blood Rain Guest didn't seem to like his own moniker much, and he couldn't very well use "Brother Jang" like Hyeon-gong, so he was at a loss.
"Huh? Of course not. I came down this morning and saw Brother Jang eating, so I sat across from him out of delight and we chatted briefly. That's all."
As if that were all. Dang Mujin eyed Hyeon-gong's half-empty porridge bowl.
In the short time it took to eat half a bowl, Hyeon-gong's silver tongue had clearly worked some magic.
"Anyway, what's the situation? Isn't this all too sudden?"
"You might feel that way, sure. But from what I heard, Brother Jang's circumstances are truly pitiable."
"...Pitiable?"
If there was one expression that least suited a super-peak unorthodox master, it was undoubtedly "pitiable."
As far as Dang Mujin knew, such masters couldn't live pitiable lives. They were experts at making others' lives pitiable or ending those sorry existences.
But Hyeon-gong nodded.
"Yeah. He seems to have suffered a lot from people's deep misunderstandings."
Wang Jincheong, not to mention Hong Geolgae and Namgung Myeong, clearly found the situation awkward too, rolling their eyes about without a word.
They didn't seem confident enough to jump into the conversation. Left with no choice, Dang Mujin became their spokesman.
"What misunderstandings?"
"People mistake Brother Jang for some vicious fiend! Can you believe it?"
Dang Mujin decided to cut straight to the point.
"With a moniker like Blood Rain Guest, he may not be vicious exactly, but it suggests a rather rough life."
Instead of answering directly, Hyeon-gong looked to Blood Rain Guest.
Though his moniker had been invoked, Blood Rain Guest showed no sign of anger.
Blood Rain Guest asked Dang Mujin's group.
"What are your monikers?"
"Soaring Dragon Sword."
"I don't have one yet."
"Me neither."
Hyeon-gong, Namgung Myeong, and Hong Geolgae answered in turn.
Then all eyes turned to Hong Geolgae. A gaze demanding he proudly declare his fourth moniker, Gui Mountain Pass.
But Hong Geolgae clamped his mouth shut like a clam.
Finally, Dang Mujin answered.
"I'm Healing Dragon."
Blood Rain Guest wore a subtle expression.
"Healing Dragon? As in physician? My little brother Hyun-gong said you made the Storm Flower Needles."
He had fully entered brotherly terms with Hyeon-gong.
At any rate, it was a question Dang Mujin had heard at least ten times before, so he gave a suitable reply.
"Ah, yes. That's right. I'm originally a physician. I've just picked up a bit of blacksmithing on the side."
"You made something like that with just 'a bit'...? No, that's not what I meant. Healing Dragon. Who gave you that moniker?"
"I don't know who. At some point, people just started calling me that."
"Right. Like you or my little brother Hyun-gong, monikers are given by others based on one's deeds. But I gave myself mine. That means Blood Rain Guest has little to do with my actual exploits."
He had personally chosen a moniker he disliked? But Dang Mujin didn't press for details. Blood Rain Guest's explanation wasn't over yet.
"I suppose I have to start from my childhood. I met my master much younger than young Master Wang here. He highly valued my talent and took me as his disciple."
"The finest gem shines even in the mud. How could any martial artist pass by a young Brother Jang?"
As Hyeon-gong interjected with flattery that flowed like water, a smile appeared beneath Blood Rain Guest's bamboo hat.
"Mm, yes. I had considerable talent, and before long I caught up to my master's level. But when I was around fifteen, my master died fighting another warrior."
"Oh no. So what did Brother Jang do?"
Just then, the innkeeper approached and set a bowl of porridge before Dang Mujin.
Blood Rain Guest stirred his spoon in his bowl, then set it down and continued.
"I just thought it was sad that my master had died. That's all. But then the villagers came to me, asking when I'd go avenge him. They spoke as if it were the most natural thing, so I assumed it was my duty as a disciple."
The villagers' reaction was perfectly reasonable. If one's master was murdered, wasn't it the disciple's obligation to seek vengeance?
Yet Blood Rain Guest casually denied that common sense. Dang Mujin started to point it out but held his tongue.
"Truth be told, I didn't want to go. At first I put it off, but as time passed, the atmosphere made it impossible to delay further. So I tracked down my master's killer and killed him."
"It must have been a ferocious bloodbath."
Blood Rain Guest shook his head.
"Not really. I swung my sword seven or eight times, and he died with a look of injustice on his face."
"Well, how many people could match Brother Jang anyway."
Hyeon-gong laid on the flattery with seamless naturalness.
He didn't cross into sycophantic territory, even maintaining a calm expression as if stating plain truth.
Dang Mujin's group, who had observed Hyeon-gong for years, were inwardly impressed.
Blood Rain Guest continued.
"I was about to head back after the revenge when his disciple glared at me and asked my moniker. He seemed to assume I had one, so I made one up on the spot. Blood Rain Guest."
"But now Brother Jang dislikes that moniker."
"I was all hyped up from killing a man for the first time, and only sixteen or so. I thought it sounded cool back then. I never imagined it'd spread so far."
Blood Rain Guest gave a wry smile.
"Monikers like Soaring Dragon Sword or Healing Dragon are fine. Even better if you're from the orthodox sects. But in the unorthodox world, something vicious like Blood Rain Guest brings trouble. Decent folk avoid me in fear, and only those eager to make a name flock to challenge me. I've swung my sword just to survive."
Dang Mujin interjected.
"In the end, you've killed plenty, so you became Blood Rain Guest after all."
"Not as many as you think. I've repelled hundreds of challengers over the years, but only killed five. Killing people keeps me up at night."
"Ah, yes..."
Blood Rain Guest fiddled with his porridge bowl as he spoke.
"I'm sick of it. If I don't kill the challengers, they come back for more; if I do, their avengers come charging in. Down south of the Yangtze, unorthodox martial artists challenge me; cross north, and orthodox ones swarm. It's an endless string of sword fights I can't escape."
"People seem to swarm whenever they spot Brother Jang's bamboo hat. Why not take it off?"
"No. Better to keep it on. No matter how they find me, they always do. Even those who've seen my bare face go around spreading rumors of what I look like. Leaves me no choice but to kill them."
Blood Rain Guest sighed. The sigh of a weary swordmaster.
"The cycles of karma in the martial world are frightening. That revenge never sat right with me from the start. I shouldn't have avenged my master."
Blood Rain Guest turned his head, peering at Dang Mujin from beneath his hat.
"Anyway, I need those Storm Flower Needles for my old age security. Will you help me?"
"...Old age security?"
When Dang Mujin echoed the phrase, Hyeon-gong explained what Blood Rain Guest meant. Dang Mujin understood easily enough.
Dang Mujin toyed with the Storm Flower Needles at his waist.
Before leaving Wuchang, Jeong Taeryeong had returned them, saying they were beyond her to handle.
"How many Storm Flower Needles do you need?"
"Looks like you can fire three or four. A hundred would be perfect. No, fifty would do."
Dang Mujin shook his head.
"No can do. Each one takes ages to make. And the materials aren't easy to find, so factoring in procurement time, it could take years."
Any other unorthodox warrior would have demanded he make them regardless, but Blood Rain Guest visibly deflated. His reaction screamed clear defeat at the refusal.
Feeling oddly guilty, Dang Mujin probed gently.
"Why not build a force like others do? From our brief talk, you don't strike me as prickly at all, elder Blood Rain Guest. If you taught your arts, disciples would flock like clouds. They'd see to your old age."
Blood Rain Guest replied in a gloomy tone.
"Of course I tried. Gathered about a dozen people, but being unorthodox folk, they expected savagery and cruelty from me. Kept pushing to kill someone. Got too burdensome, so I slipped away."
"...Ah, yes. I see."
Blood Rain Guest was a man of brilliant talent unsuited to the martial life.
Happier with a plow in the fields than as a super-peak master whose fame blanketed the Central Plains.
Someone who'd prefer a bit of disdain over everyone's awe.
Just then, Hyeon-gong nudged Dang Mujin's side and gave him a meaningful glance.
Dang Mujin understood. Why not return to the Dang Clinic together?
Dang Mujin pondered.
No reason it wouldn't work. Weren't there already plenty of outcast Demonic Cultists around the Dang Clinic?
If they could shelter dozens of them, what difference would one more unorthodox warrior make?
One concern lingered. What if Blood Rain Guest harbored dark ambitions?
Yet Dang Mujin's mind tilted toward acceptance. He had learned one truth in life so far.
Those who seem kind aren't always kind.
Most are, but pretenders and liars lurk among them. Hypocrites more vicious than ordinary villains.
But among the pitiful and sloppy like Blood Rain Guest, there are no hypocrites.
Only the honest and clumsy can remain pitiful and sloppy.
That's why Dang Mujin liked such people. Like the ones currently seated at this table with him.
Dang Mujin thought.
'At this table, only Wang Jincheong and I are normal. Hope Wang Jincheong doesn't get corrupted by the others.'
Having sorted his thoughts, Dang Mujin spoke to Blood Rain Guest.
"Elder Blood Rain Guest. Since things have come to this, why not come with us?"
"Where to?"
"The Dang Cli..."
No. The Dang Clinic was too grand to call it that anymore.
So Dang Mujin spoke with confident expression.
"To Chengdu in Sichuan Province. To the Dang Family Fortress."