Chapter 25
Chapter 25
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: Zhongjing
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No appetite. Hong Geolgae had been starving, living alone away from the beggars under the bridge.
He lay sprawled out, staring blankly at the sky, or buried his head between his knees.
Today, too, he was sitting with his head tucked between his knees, lost in a daze, when someone tapped his back. He looked up, wondering who it was, and saw a little girl.
She looked about eight or nine years old. Maybe she was losing her baby teeth—her two front teeth were missing.
"What are you doing here, big brother?"
"Huh? Just... sitting."
"You were just sitting yesterday too. Aren't you hungry?"
"I'm fine, so go away."
Hong Geolgae waved her off dismissively, then lay back down and closed his eyes. He felt the raindrops drumming against his body.
A moment later, someone poked his side. Hong Geolgae opened his eyes again and looked over. It was the same little girl from before.
"I told you to leave."
"Here, eat this. You look hungry."
The girl held out her small hand. In it was a rice ball, made by roughly shaping cold barley rice into a ball.
Hong Geolgae irritably tried to shoo her away again but changed his mind.
He didn't want to take out his frustrations on a kid.
Hong Geolgae reached out and took the rice ball.
It was, of course, cold and damp with rainwater.
But he shoved it into his mouth anyway. It had been two days since he last ate something, or was it three?
As if his lack of appetite had been a lie all along, his stomach greedily accepted the rice ball. Gulp. Even after eating, he felt hungrier than before.
The little girl watched him, grinning toothlessly as if expecting praise.
Hong Geolgae sat up and said,
"What's your name?"
"Soseon."
"Right. Soseon. Thanks, that was good."
His mind cleared.
Hong Geolgae had been in so much pain he wanted to die, but he didn't really want to. There was no reason he had to. The one who had sinned was his master, not him.
Hong Geolgae followed Soseon back under the bridge and spent the time in a daze again.
*
That evening, Hong Geolgae overheard the beggars chatting.
"Hey, you hear that story? A descendant of Ou Yezi showed up."
"Ou Yezi? The legendary blacksmith?"
"Yeah. Some young blacksmith appeared, and all the blacksmiths in Zhongjing are flocking like clouds just to watch him swing his hammer once."
"Come on, no way. How different could one hammer swing be?"
"I'm no blacksmith, so I wouldn't know. But it's true they're gathering. I saw them myself."
A memory surfaced in Hong Geolgae's mind.
The words the old weirdo had said while watching Dang Mujin whittle a wooden sword.
-It won't take long. Just sit back and watch. That kid's better at hammering metal and carving wood than he is at acupuncture.
The image of Dang Mujin carving away at the wood block, as if hiding a wooden sword inside it, came to mind.
Yeah. The young blacksmith they were talking about was almost certainly Dang Mujin.
Hong Geolgae jumped to his feet and approached the beggars.
Ever since he had tossed his beggar's cord into the river, the beggars no longer shrank away from him.
To join the Beggars' Sect, you needed a tael of silver in hand. But to be recognized as a true beggar, simply discarding that ragged cord was enough. What a ridiculous thing.
"Elders, was there a middle-aged man around fifty with that young blacksmith?"
"Hm, I think I heard something about a money-grubbing bastard. Why?"
The beggar who answered was Soseon’s father, So Samgu.
"Where's that forge, by any chance?"
"Going to beg there?"
"Well, depending on the situation."
So Samgu looked at Hong Geolgae with a satisfied expression.
"Good, a young man shouldn't mope around—he needs to earn a living. It's the Feng Family Forge. It'll be packed inside, so it won't be hard to find."
"Thank you."
"Go get yourself a full bowl and come back stuffed."
Worried Hong Geolgae might get lost, So Samgu repeated the directions to the Feng Family Forge two or three times.
Hong Geolgae ran toward the Feng Family Forge, then turned back and shouted,
"Thank you! If I get a lot of scraps, I'll share some!"
"Forget it! Stuff yourself till you burst!"
Hong Geolgae dashed through Zhongjing's streets in the now-lightening rain.
But deep down, he was anxious. Would Dang Mujin and the old weirdo welcome someone like him, who wasn't even a Beggars' Sect disciple anymore, let alone a Three-Knot Beggar—and now without even a travel companion?
He didn't know. But Hong Geolgae swallowed his small anxiety.
A moment later, he arrived at the Feng Family Forge.
The old weirdo was nowhere to be seen, but Dang Mujin was inside.
*
Dang Mujin, finishing his work and stepping out, ran into Hong Geolgae.
He casually said, "What brings you here?" out of pleasant surprise, but Hong Geolgae suddenly burst into tears and snot, spilling everything that had happened.
The wealthy Beggars' Sect disciples of Zhongjing, and even the story of his master Ma Jeon-gae. He held nothing back.
In just a few days, Hong Geolgae's shoulders had slumped.
Dang Mujin didn't like the look of it, so he smacked his back hard with his palm.
"Ugh, you idiot."
The old weirdo had left just the previous evening, leaving Dang Mujin bored anyway.
A fun idea popped into Dang Mujin's head.
"Hey, Hong Geolgae."
"Yeah?"
"So you're not a Beggars' Sect disciple anymore, right?"
"Well... technically, yeah. Why?"
"You ever heard of living the good life?"
*
The sky was still full of clouds, but the rain had finally stopped after days, and plenty of people were out on the streets.
Dang Mujin led Hong Geolgae to a fabric shop he had noted while going back and forth between the New Moon Inn and the forge.
"No, what the— A beggar... I mean, a great hero of the Beggars' Sect, gracing our humble shop!"
The shopkeeper scowled openly at the beggar entering, but his face bloomed into a smile the moment he saw Dang Mujin beside him.
The antics of Dang Mujin and the old weirdo were famous not just among the blacksmiths but also with the merchants near the Feng Family Forge.
The shopkeeper rubbed his hands like a fly.
"Great heroes, what brings you here?"
"I want to buy this friend a nice set of clothes. Got anything good?"
"Oh! You've come to the right place. With his natural build, one sharp outfit and he'll look like a different man."
The fabric shop mainly dealt in cloth rather than finished clothes. But in a big city like Zhongjing, they often sold ready-made garments too.
"About how much would it run?"
Dang Mujin opened his pouch to show his silver.
The old weirdo had taken most of the silver he'd saved up, so there wasn't much left. But a few taels were plenty for a fancy outfit.
"Then the finest will do!"
The shopkeeper's mouth gaped wide as he rummaged through the clothes. Hong Geolgae whispered awkwardly to Dang Mujin.
"Hey, this feels weird... I’d rather stick with what I have."
"No reason for a non-Beggars' Sect guy to dress like a beggar, is there? Just stay quiet."
The shopkeeper fussed, holding up outfits and nodding, until he finally presented Hong Geolgae with a fine light robe.
It seemed perfectly suited to his size and style.
"Shall he try it on?"
"Nah, we're good. Hey, Hong Geolgae! Take the clothes and let's go!"
Dang Mujin dragged Hong Geolgae straight to a stream. Though not a tributary of the Yangtze, the stream had swelled from the endless recent rains.
"Wash up quick."
"Yeah."
Urged by Dang Mujin, Hong Geolgae stripped and jumped in, scrubbing himself thoroughly.
Dang Mujin dressed the emerging Hong Geolgae in the light robe and tied back his shaggy hair. The saying "clothes make the man" wasn't wrong—a decent young master had been born. Awkward expression aside.
"Not bad, huh?"
Hong Geolgae checked his reflection in a puddle by the stream.
Cleaner and sharper than even the Zhuul Village chief's son. His chest tightened for some reason.
But Dang Mujin had no intention of stopping there. This was just the start. With fine clothes (haoyi) on, it was time for fine food (haoshi).
"Let's go!"
Dang Mujin led Hong Geolgae to a street lined with inns.
From somewhere came the thin strains of string music and a woman's singing.
At first, Hong Geolgae shuffled hesitantly.
Dang Mujin wasn't much different. Better than Hong Geolgae, maybe, but he'd never set foot in a tavern alley either.
To Dang Mujin, alcohol meant sneaking sips of cheap liquor now and then with the herb gatherer Jonggwak.
The two didn't rush into a tavern. Instead, they strolled the wobbly nightlife of Zhongjing, getting used to the vibe.
As time passed, their steps grew bolder. Their hunched shoulders straightened.
Before long, they had become young men who fit right into the lively tavern alley.
And when they were sufficiently pumped, Dang Mujin led Hong Geolgae into the tavern next door.
"Welcome!"
By coincidence, the tavern they entered was Dengxian Tower, where Hong Geolgae had visited a few days earlier.
But the waiter didn't recognize the cleaned-up Hong Geolgae. The gap between the beggar Hong Geolgae of days ago and this sharp one was that vast.
"Come, come, have a seat. What'll it be?"
Dang Mujin was unfamiliar with taverns too. He had no idea what side dishes were good. But he ordered with feigned casualness.
"A decent baijiu, and some greasy side dishes."
"Yes, sir! I'll bring something suitable!"
The sharp waiter vanished without prying.
Soon, two platters of decent meat dishes and a bottle of baijiu appeared before them.
Dang Mujin didn't know the dishes. He could only guess they were pork and duck.
The baijiu was unfamiliar too. The only alcohol he'd ever had was cheap huangjiu, bought with pocket money swiped from behind his father's back.
"Let's eat!"
Dang Mujin filled Hong Geolgae's cup, then his own to the brim with baijiu.
They downed it together.
The nameless baijiu, reeking far stronger than cheap huangjiu, burned down his throat into his gut.
His throat felt scorched.
Dang Mujin gritted through it with wide eyes, but Hong Geolgae coughed outright. At least, beggar habits kept him from spitting it out.
Hong Geolgae shivered.
"Whoa! That's fiery."
"Everyone's like that the first time."
Their chopsticks dove into the meat.
The rich oiliness washed away the baijiu's bitterness.
They drank again, ate more. Both were new to taverns, but they could enjoy the atmosphere.
The noisy voices of earlier patrons finally registered. The tavern's flashy interior came into view.
String music and a woman's song drifted from somewhere. Upstairs or next door? Didn't matter.
This was the first time either had fully escaped someone's watch. The young pair savored the unfamiliar freedom.
How much did they eat and drink? Dang Mujin's tongue started to slur a bit.
Anxiety crept onto Hong Geolgae's face.
"Hey, Mujin. You got money? Didn't we spend almost all at the fabric shop?"
"Money? Even without it, we're fine. No need to spend anyway."
"You idiot, you think drinks and food are free?"
"I said it's fine."
Dang Mujin staggered up and headed to a small platform in one corner of the tavern. A raised spot for courtesans to play instruments.
As Dang Mujin climbed up, the patrons' eyes turned to him.
In the past, he'd have shrunk under the attention, but since arriving in Zhongjing, he'd grown used to it. Hammering under the blacksmiths' gazes every day.
Dang Mujin tapped the wall with his hand.
Thud thud. Pretty thick.
Looking around, support pillars stood here and there. Even if the wall gave way, the building wouldn't collapse.
'Good enough.'
Dang Mujin drew a small dagger from his bosom and plunged it into the wooden wall. A waiter carrying food saw it.
"Sir! What are you doing?!"
The waiter yelled in shock, but Dang Mujin kept stabbing the wall without pause.
Lacking confidence to stop an armed drunk himself, the waiter bolted outside to fetch the two burly men who had escorted Hong Geolgae to the owner days before.
"Wahaha!"
"What's that guy doing?"
The inn's patrons burst into laughter.
Watching someone drunk and causing a scene made for satisfying drinking entertainment.
Seeing the waiter's panic was a bonus, and if they got to watch the drunk dragged out weeping, even better.
The two big men entered, led by the waiter. The moment they moved to pull Dang Mujin down, he splashed water on the wall he'd been stabbing.
The tavern fell silent.
As the wall darkened with moisture, a benevolent face emerged. Too intricate to believe it was carved haphazardly with a dagger.
Dang Mujin beckoned the waiter and the two bruisers, pointing to empty seats. Mesmerized, they sat. Three more spectators joined.
Dang Mujin stabbed the wall repeatedly: plunge, plunge.
Large wood shavings piled at the base. Every drunk on Dengxian Tower's first floor watched, entranced.
The usually rowdiest floor grew quiet, so the wealthy guests from the second and third floors sensed something and came down.
Unsure what was happening, they quietly watched Dang Mujin's work.
How much time passed? Dang Mujin pocketed his dagger, fetched a bucket of water, and splashed the wall.
Splash—
In an instant, a vibrant image bloomed on the plain wall.
A figure in splendid robes, dozens of arms spread circularly, sat in lotus position gazing at the tavern's patrons.
Someone murmured.
"Thousand-Armed Guanyin..."
A exquisitely carved Thousand-Armed Guanyin had appeared on a mere tavern wall.
No one in Dengxian Tower had ever seen a more precise, beautiful Thousand-Armed Guanyin.
And everyone knew: they'd never see a more perfect one in their lifetime.
The people stared blankly. No one lifted chopsticks or cups.
Dang Mujin beckoned the Dengxian Tower owner, who had watched from the stairs.
"This'll cover tonight's bill. That okay?"
The owner nodded unconsciously.