Chapter 263
Chapter 263
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 263
Chapter Title: Hyun-gong's Daily Outing Record
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A short while earlier, back when Dang Mujin was sparring with the Three-Eyed Buddha.
Hyun-gong had left the Dang Family Manor, declaring he would retrieve the flying wheel he had so energetically flung away. The flying wheel shimmered faintly in the distance as it soared far off.
'I figured even if I couldn't grab it with my hand, I could at least make it come back to the manor.'
Hyun-gong didn't think his own skills were lacking. But pulling objects from the air was a different matter altogether.
Of course, he couldn't match the prowess of fellows like Dang Mujin and Namgung Myeong, who had trained specifically in that art.
'Troublesome.'
Hyun-gong trudged toward the direction the flying wheel had flown.
Yet he didn't actually expect to find the vanished flying wheel. How could anyone locate a small, thin piece of metal in the vast expanse of Chengdu?
The only reason Hyun-gong had left the manor despite thinking that was simple.
'If I lose something valuable and just give up without even looking, I'll earn resentment. At the very least, I have to put on a show of searching.'
He could wander around Chengdu until late evening or even return at dawn tomorrow.
Dawn seemed preferable. It wouldn't be easy to scold someone who had roamed all night, braving the dew, only to return at first light.
Hyun-gong began strolling leisurely through Chengdu's streets, treating it like a hobby.
Just then, an old man selling pancake rolls spotted him.
"Isn't that Victory Dragon Sword!"
"Long time no see. But the nickname Victory Dragon Sword feels a bit burdensome."
"Haha. Then perhaps Righteous Word suits you better."
Hyun-gong gave a faint smile.
Thanks to his persistent efforts, his second nickname, Righteous Word, had taken solid root in Chengdu.
"It's still an undeserved title, but at least it's far less grandiose. How have you been, elder?"
"What big events could I have? My days are all the same—yesterday like today, today like tomorrow."
"Your son, who went off to the capital, must be due back soon."
"Heavens, you even remember that?"
"I might forget others' tales, but not yours, elder."
The pancake vendor grinned broadly and offered Hyun-gong a roll.
Though it was a simple gesture of kindness, Hyun-gong insisted on paying a single coin before accepting it.
One of Hyun-gong's hobbies was wandering Chengdu's streets like this, strutting humbly.
It might sound odd, but "humbly strutting" was a perfectly accurate description.
He hoped others would recognize him, but when they did, he responded with utmost humility.
What mattered was that countless people knew him—not how arrogantly he could act before them.
Hyun-gong bolstered his reputation and filled his self-esteem this way amid the crowds.
He chatted one by one with those who recognized him, nodding leisurely in agreement, passing the time.
As expected, Chengdu's folk saw Hyun-gong as exceptionally kind and virtuous martial artist.
A little later, Hyun-gong entered a nearby inn.
The food was nothing special, but it drew crowds like no other at lunchtime.
The innkeeper spotted him and beamed.
"Righteous Word! It's been ages."
"I was just thinking I'd stop by soon. Even after passing through countless inns on the way back from Wudang Mountain, none had dumplings as superb as yours."
"Then dumplings it is?"
"Please."
Hyun-gong chatted amiably, handed over four coins, and deliberately took a seat in the corner.
At first glance, one might think he should claim the center to bask in attention, but that was foolish.
The inn wasn't large. Meaning, even in the corner, people would spot him. In essence, it made little difference where he sat.
Yet Hyun-gong's insistence on the corner held a crucial reason.
Claiming the center boldly in such a place made one look like a fool craving the spotlight—especially for a martial artist.
But a figure like Hyun-gong tucked in the corner shifted people's gazes entirely.
It planted the image of a humble martial artist who shunned flaunting himself before others.
As Hyun-gong waited for his dumplings, patrons flooded in.
Spotting him in the corner, they nodded subtly in approval.
Young, highly accomplished, yet neither arrogant nor flawed in character—the very model of a martial artist. That was how people perceived him.
Having arrived and ordered first, Hyun-gong's dumplings came out ahead of the rest.
As the waiter wove through the crowd with a wooden bowl of dumplings, hungry eyes locked onto the plate.
Then the other patrons realized something astonishing.
'Eight dumplings!'
Dumplings here cost four coins for six.
Yet Hyun-gong's bowl held a full eight—two extra as a bonus.
Hyun-gong picked up his chopsticks with a calm expression, betraying nothing.
As if eight were standard for everyone, as if oblivious to the innkeeper's favor, he ate composedly.
Only then would his desired "humble strut" be complete.
Hyun-gong savored the subtle awe and distance in people's gazes.
Trivial as it seemed, those two dumplings symbolized the gulf between ordinary folk and Hyun-gong. Extras an average person might never receive in a lifetime of inn visits.
After eating, Hyun-gong walked toward where the flying wheel had vanished.
Soon enough, he sensed the surroundings growing oddly chaotic.
'Something's up?'
Hyun-gong didn't bother mingling with the crowd or prying. People would spot him first and share the tale.
Sure enough, as he neared the commotion, a vaguely familiar man greeted him.
"Victory Dragon Sword!"
Eyes turned. Hyun-gong feigned mild surprise.
"Shh! Lower your voice, please. It's embarrassing."
"Ah, yes. Have you heard?"
"Heard what?"
"Assassins targeted the Northern Guard Captain!"
"What?"
The Northern Guard Captain ranked among the top three experts among officials near Chengdu.
With a salary of two thousand piculs, his influence needed no explanation.
Yet he also had ties to the Dang Family Manor.
Dang Mujin had cured his chronic stomach pains, and through that connection, Hyun-gong vaguely recalled it leading to encounters like with Elder Zhu.
Naturally, Hyun-gong was acquainted with him.
The captain visited the manor regularly for treatments from Dang Mujin, and Hyun-gong often loitered nearby when idle.
But now, a thick unease gripped Hyun-gong.
'Too coincidental.'
The flying wheel had flown toward the captain's residence.
Chaos erupting shortly after he launched it.
'I need to check before this escalates.'
Hyun-gong pushed through the throng toward the residence's main gate.
A soldier gripped his spear, glaring at the crowd, but it meant nothing to Hyun-gong.
The soldier gaped at him.
"Righteous Word's Hyun-gong!"
"Greetings. I'd like to learn what happened—may I enter?"
"Hmm. Anyone else, no... but go ahead."
Hyun-gong passed the soldier leisurely, scanning the grounds as he entered.
In the worst case, perhaps the flying wheel had beheaded the captain—but fortunately, the man paced the courtyard unscathed.
Hyun-gong cupped his fists first. The captain acknowledged him.
"Righteous Word! I was just debating sending for the Dang Family Manor or Qingcheng Sect."
"Lucky timing on my part. Might I hear what occurred?"
"I only just arrived myself, so it's all secondhand. Moments ago, my subordinates nearly suffered a grave injury from something sharp flying through the yard while they worked. Likely a hidden weapon."
As the captain finished, a servant beside him raised his left arm, showing where the "hidden weapon" had grazed.
No wound, thankfully, but the fabric bore a large gash from something razor-sharp.
The bizarrely clean cut gave it away. The flying wheel's mark.
His heart sank, but Hyun-gong kept composed.
"Fortunate it was no worse. Did anyone see the assassin or the weapon?"
The captain shook his head.
"That's the strangest part. You'd expect a dagger or similar, but nothing's visible. The torn clothes confirm an assassin came, that's all."
Hyun-gong clenched his fist discreetly, out of the captain's sight.
By sheer luck, the flying wheel remained undiscovered.
"May I search the grounds briefly?"
"Go ahead."
Hyun-gong scanned casually, avoiding suspicion.
If launched from the Dang Family Manor and grazed an arm, where might it be now?
Moments later, he spotted a glinting silver shard beneath the stone wall. The flying wheel.
A real assassin's dagger wouldn't have burrowed there, but the thin wheel had hidden perfectly.
'Thank goodness.'
Hyun-gong pocketed it unnoticed into his sleeve.
The Dang Family Manor was now in the clear.
Returning to the captain, he reported.
"No weapon found. At least no one was hurt."
But the captain's brow stayed furrowed.
"Hard to call it fortunate—it's chilling. Looks like assassins warning me."
People tend to link all nearby events to themselves, and the captain was no exception.
Rather than contradict, Hyun-gong opted to placate.
With feigned anger, he said.
"Warning? What wrong could a paragon of integrity like you have done to warrant assassins' impudence?"
"Someone disapproves of my frequent Dang Family Manor visits—nearly monthly, aren't they?"
"You went as a patient for checkups, not as a martial world figure."
"They wouldn't know that. Lacking certainty to kill me outright, they threatened a subordinate instead. Likely mobilized those Killing Curtain scum."
Though Dang Mujin had obliterated Killing Curtain's leadership, underlings remained.
Even he couldn't eradicate every low-level assassin scattered across regions.
Most mid-tier killers in the provinces surely lingered.
They knew their superiors were gone but hadn't sought new paths—probably scraping by on petty commissions locally.
Chengdu was the exception. No Killing Curtain remnants here.
Dang Mujin loathed them viciously, and they couldn't operate unseen under Namgung Myeong's watch.
But the captain knew none of this.
"Don't worry. No Killing Curtain assassins in Chengdu."
"None? Then who targeted me?"
Hyun-gong faltered. Was the story veering this way?
Tucking the flying wheel deeper, he deflected.
"...No need for you to concern yourself, Captain. I assure you, you'll see no trace of assassins henceforth—worry not."
The captain smiled, satisfied.
"That the intent? I'd doubt others, but coming from Righteous Word's Hyun-gong, I trust it."
"Just an embarrassing moniker."
"Isn't it your life's conduct that earned it? No need for shame—boast of it."
Hyun-gong lowered his stance slightly, cupping fists again.
"Too kind. I'll strive harder."
"Even assuming reassurance as you say, it's hard to gauge why assassins targeted me."
Needing a response, Hyun-gong seized the first excuse that came.
"Elder, this I learned at Wudang and Kongtong Mountains."
"Hm?"
Lowering his voice drew keen interest from the captain.
"Rumors of unorthodox warriors targeting the orthodox martial world. This might connect."
"But I'm no martial artist—I'm an official. They know government rarely meddles in their feuds. Why stir trouble?"
Short-sighted.
Realizing his deflection might balloon into official involvement, Hyun-gong pivoted.
"Didn't you say you practice martial arts yourself?"
"It's middling at best."
"Martial folk's eyes deceive often. With your stature and presence, they might mistake you for a far superior warrior. Even fleetingly seeing you as one isn't odd."
Hyun-gong's tale was flimsy in parts.
Yet deft flattery conceals such flaws seamlessly.
And Hyun-gong's was no ordinary sort.
Unlike sycophants unable to hide cunning, his tone stayed utterly even—like stating the sun rises east, an obvious truth.
The captain burst into hearty laughter.
"Haha, I see!"
"Belatedly, unorthodox and black path folk will realize tangling with you brings no gain. Moreover, any Killing Curtain remnants lurking in Chengdu—the Dang Family Manor will root them out. No more worries ahead."
The captain smiled, pleased.
Government and martial world kept distant ties.
Hyun-gong had fretted needlessly, in a way.
Had the captain died, officials might stir—but a servant's torn hem? Hardly.
Yet the captain liked Hyun-gong and felt aided by him.
In a sense, easing one's mind was the heaviest burden lifted—and Hyun-gong had done so boldly.
"Good. A favor received means one given."
"Pardon?"
"You mentioned unorthodox warriors mobilizing soon? I'll tip you off if word reaches me. Government eyes reach farther than martial ones, no?"
"Such aid would help immensely. But dare I accept...?"
"No issue. Who'd trace it to me?"
Hyun-gong's eyes sparkled inwardly.
The talk had twisted subtly but ended favorably.
Cupping fists, he bowed slightly.
"My thanks."
"Take care."
Hyun-gong returned to the manor with squared shoulders. Dang Mujin was engrossed practicing flying wheels beside Blood Rain Guest.
Approaching, Hyun-gong handed it over.
"Found your flying wheel."
"What? You actually did?"
"Naturally. Contributed to orthodox martial world and Dang Family Manor peace as a bonus."
"...What nonsense is that?"
"You'll learn someday."
Hyun-gong strode the manor with bold flair.
Unlike Chengdu's streets, though, no one paid him heed.