Chapter 250
Chapter 250
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 250
Chapter Title: Kongdong Sect
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The next day, the three departed from the Wudang Sect.
Hyun-gong was still leaking blood profusely, which drew plenty of suspicious stares from passersby. However, thanks to Youngbo Zhenren's exquisite swordsmanship and desperate defense, there were no wounds severe enough to hinder movement.
The worst of them was just a graze from Songmun High Sword along his ribs.
'...Though honestly, that's still bad enough to make moving difficult.'
Hyun-gong winced with pain at every motion.
Yet Dang Mujin and Hong Geolgae felt not a shred of sympathy. Despite his furrowed brow, a repulsive smirk clung to Hyun-gong's lips and wouldn't fade.
"You sure you can move?"
Hyun-gong jutted out his chin at Hong Geolgae's question. Even though they were of similar height, his gaze looked down slightly. With one corner of his mouth curled up, he replied.
"Of course. A true leader mustn't waver over mere trifles like this."
The creepy smile paired with his arrogant attitude let Dang Mujin and Hong Geolgae guess what had passed between Hyun-gong and Youngbo Zhenren the day before.
Indeed, Hyun-gong's talk of becoming sect leader hadn't been empty words.
'Looks like Youngbo Zhenren's set on dismantling the Wudang Sect. Guess that's the end of its history.'
Hong Geolgae and Dang Mujin felt a complicated mix of emotions.
The trio bickered on the surface but deep down wished the best for each other.
Yet as with all things, excess was no good. They hadn't hoped for *this* level of success.
Hyun-gong, chin still raised, asked Dang Mujin.
"We're heading straight to Chengdu, right?"
Dang Mujin debated punching a hole through that chin but shook his head instead.
"No. Got a detour to make."
"Where?"
"The Kongdong Sect's bothering me. Need to check it out a bit before heading back."
"Hmm, fair enough."
Dang Mujin wasn't the only one suspicious of the Kongdong Sect.
Hong Geolgae hadn't paid much attention during the meeting, so he had no strong opinions. But Hyun-gong had found the Kongdong Sect and Baekya Alliance a bit off.
A nickname and name no one had heard of, and suddenly a black sect master becomes sect leader?
Dismissing it because it's the Kongdong Sect felt too convenient.
Hyun-gong took the lead.
"Then on the way back, let's go through Hanzhong instead of Chongqing. That should work."
Routing through Hanzhong to Sichuan shortened the path and let them pass near the Kongdong Sect headquarters to boot—a two birds with one stone deal.
Hong Geolgae asked Dang Mujin.
"What about Namgung Myeong?"
"Naturally, he's coming with."
Rumors had spread far and wide that Sintu had raided Mount Hua and the South Mount Sect.
By now, each sect's leader was likely rushing back to base, and Namgung Myeong was probably burning his final fireworks before they arrived.
Even Namgung Myeong couldn't treat sects with their leaders present like his personal playground.
Plus, spying on the Kongdong Sect would likely need Namgung Myeong's talents.
No one in the group was better at stealthy infiltration, after all.
Hong Geolgae tapped the ground with his heel.
"But we don't even know where he is or how to contact him. You planning to wait in the village till he shows?"
"That'd be a problem. We can't sit around indefinitely for one guy. We'll go ahead and wait for him."
"How do we contact him?"
"You don't need to know a fish's exact spot to catch it. Just cast your net along the water's flow."
Hong Geolgae frowned at Dang Mujin's vague words.
"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"
"Namgung Myeong won't skip the Wudang area on his way back. Just follow me."
Dang Mujin had known Namgung Myeong for six years now.
Three years studying Confucian classics teaches you poetry and romance; six years watching a thief teaches you to steal.
Dang Mujin headed to the grandest mansion in the village below Wudang Mountain.
Pointing at it, he said.
"Back in this village, Namgung Myeong's definitely coming here."
It was as obvious as the sun rising in the east, so Hong Geolgae and Hyun-gong raised no objections.
The three moved to the opposite side of the main gate and vaulted the wall with ease. Even in broad daylight, no one in the mansion spotted them.
A large building came into view right after hopping the wall, seemingly dividing the grounds left and right.
The three pondered.
'If I were Namgung Myeong, where would I go here?'
The sparsely peopled left? The right with plenty of hiding spots?
No, that was ordinary thinking. They climbed straight to the roof of the building ahead.
Crawling stealthily along the ridge, they dangled from the eaves at a suitable spot and slipped inside.
Up to this point, no discussion was needed. They knew Namgung Myeong too well.
Predicting his moves so flawlessly made Hong Geolgae sigh.
"They say honest men turn dark from bad company. Think we've gone the same way because of Namgung Myeong?"
"Spot on. His sins run deep."
"Sometimes I wonder if Sword Ghost Namgung Jincheon was too merciful. If I'd been him, I'd have chopped off Namgung Myeong's good right arm instead of his already wrecked left."
"Couldn't agree more."
Chatting in low voices, they scanned for signs of life inside. Fortunately, it seemed empty.
With Dang Mujin in the lead, they crept indoors.
Hyun-gong brought up the rear, of course. With the most to lose, it made sense to let the ones with less take point.
The interior was quite lavish—a space Namgung Myeong would have a hard time passing up.
Dang Mujin scanned around, then looked up.
The spot Namgung Myeong would find most comfortable: the rafters.
Dang Mujin leaped up, drew a small knife.
'Writing "Namgung Somebody" would be too suspicious, huh?'
He carved into the rafter.
- To Sintu the Nameless. See this and come to Kongdong Mountain.
This way, even if someone else found it later, no issues.
"Done. Let's bounce."
The three slipped out of the mansion and raced west toward Kongdong Mountain.
*
Kongdong Mountain lay in Pingliang County, Gansu.
Compared to distances between sects and villages elsewhere, the gap between the Kongdong Sect and Pingliang County was notably wider.
To understand why, one needed to grasp the relationship between righteous sect martial artists and villagers.
To people in other regions, martial sects were reliable pillars.
Arrogant black dao types or brainless thugs inevitably lowered their gazes and acted humble near them.
Righteous martial artists also made excellent customers for merchants. All in all, a close relationship benefited everyone—and naturally, property values rose the nearer to a sect's walls.
Thus, sects on mountains had villages clinging tight to their slopes; sects in the foothills had villages encircling them.
Even when villages predated sects, the outcome was the same.
But the Kongdong Sect was different. Most of its warriors hailed from the black dao, after all.
People gathered in Pingliang near Kongdong Mountain for trade, sure.
Yet in reality, Kongdong warriors intimidated villagers more often than they protected them—especially those whose black dao taint hadn't fully washed away.
As villagers grew wary of the Kongdong Sect, Pingliang County quietly distanced itself from the mountain.
On the plus side, Pingliang itself was fairly sizable—almost like every small nearby village had been swept up into one spot.
"This place is at least half the size of Chongqing."
"Yeah."
Dang Mujin's group halted before venturing deep into Pingliang County.
Unlike other times with no need for caution, they were here to scout the Kongdong Sect. They had to avoid running into Kongdong warriors or acting suspiciously.
Hyun-gong asked.
"What's the plan now?"
"We stay till Namgung Myeong arrives and fish for Kongdong rumors."
"That'll get our story back to their warriors' ears."
Locals prying into the Kongdong Sect was normal, but outsiders? Suspicious as hell.
Dang Mujin waved it off.
"Who said to grab randos and interrogate? Hide that we're martial artists, act like ordinary folk."
"How?"
"Follow me."
Dang Mujin skirted the edges instead of heading to the center.
No one eyed them oddly. Pingliang was big enough—over ten thousand households easily—so not everyone knew everyone. No suspicious behavior, no suspicions raised.
'Trouble is, outsiders digging for Kongdong gossip *is* suspicious.'
Simple fix: blur the outsider image, eavesdrop passively without prying.
Soon, Dang Mujin found a half-collapsed forge on the outskirts. Abandoned, plain as day.
"Anyone here...?"
Dang Mujin slipped inside casually. Empty, as expected.
Anything sellable was long gone; only finger-deep dust and a worn-out furnace remained.
Easily three years abandoned, at least.
'Owner ain't coming back.'
Dang Mujin told Hyun-gong and Hong Geolgae.
"This forge is our base for now. Clean it up first. Get or borrow what we need from a nearby one."
"Playing blacksmith?"
Hyun-gong sounded a bit miffed—a clear shift from his usual compliance.
"Yeah. Three able-bodied guys lounging around screams suspicious. Gotta work at something."
"Why a forge, though?"
Dang Mujin raised one eyebrow.
"Aside from smith apprentice, what *can* you do?"
Hong Geolgae could leverage his expertise and beg, blending in easy.
Local beggars might gripe, but ordinary folk wouldn't care much. Beggars popped up out of nowhere and vanished like mist to them.
But Hyun-gong?
'What *can* I do?'
Nothing. Absolutely zilch.
All he'd trained his life was Wudang martial arts.
Couldn't exactly open a dojo in Pingliang teaching Wudang techniques.
But he couldn't back down easy. As the group's de facto head and next Wudang leader, he pushed again.
"Isn't opening a clinic better?"
Dang Mujin shot it down sharp.
"No. You can hammer iron just right, but patients? Can't half-ass that. Leave the sick groaning? Gotta use your full skill."
"You'll do the same hammering iron. Bet you Kongdong warriors line up for swords in five days. Way faster exposure than doctoring."
"No chance. I'm only making farm tools."
"Farm tools? You, making sickles or plows?"
"Yep."
Hyun-gong gaped.
A man who forged Songmun High Sword making grass clippers? Absurd.
Blacksmiths fell into two camps: weaponsmiths and farm-tool smiths.
Unless a highly skilled specialist or weaponsmith apprentice from youth, "blacksmith" meant farm tools. Weaponsmiths were maybe one in ten.
Treatment differed wildly too.
Top weaponsmiths outranked most martial artists; farm-tool smiths rated low.
Martial artists chatted freely with weaponsmiths but never spoke to farm-tool ones in a lifetime, usually.
Farm-tool smiths were the most distant from the martial world—like shadows under a lamp.
Hyun-gong recalled the past: polishing swords day and night, skimping sleep, just to ask Dang Mujin for one.
Would farmers buying sickles for pennies grasp their worth?
No way. At best, "This sickle's sharp and sturdy" before moving on.
A pang in his chest. Hyun-gong couldn't stomach that future.
"Even so, that's ridiculous..."
Rather than persuade again, Dang Mujin offered a practical alternative.
"Don't like it? Follow Hong Geolgae and beg then."
As always, Hyun-gong judged swift and sure.
"Guess I'll start with cleaning."