Chapter 283
Chapter 283
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 283
Chapter Title: Kaifeng
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After the Beggars' Sect's acting elder departed from Hyuncheon Hall, Elder Youngbo summoned Hyeon-gong for a brief conversation.
"Hyeon-gong. Do you have any thoughts about going to aid the Shaolin Temple and the Beggars' Sect?"
"Since my close friend Hong Jusam is the Beggars' Sect's leader, it's only natural that I would risk danger to help a friend."
"I see. I understand your intentions."
Hyeon-gong expressed his willingness to assist the Beggars' Sect in front of Elder Youngbo.
He had to say it in front of Elder Youngbo, and to some extent, he wanted to do so.
And so, Dang Mujin's group headed toward Kaifeng, where the Beggars' Sect's main headquarters was located, to help the sect leader and the Shaolin Temple.
*
While traveling from Wudang Mountain toward Kaifeng, Dang Mujin noticed that Hong Geolgae seemed a bit off.
'What's up with him?'
As a martial artist advances in skill, subtle changes inevitably follow.
For example, their movements become more efficient without excess, their breathing more refined, their gaze sharper. Sometimes, the temples bulge at the Sun acupoints.
Martial artists compile these subtle differences to gauge an opponent's skill level even without crossing blades.
But Hong Geolgae's current state was the opposite of such changes. In many ways, he seemed far clumsier than before.
It might have been understandable if this started from the day he became a transcendent expert, but the problem was that he had been perfectly fine just one or two days ago.
'Is something seriously wrong with that guy?'
Dang Mujin quietly worried about Hong Geolgae.
Hong Geolgae had rushed into the next realm for the sake of his friends.
If something was wrong with Hong Geolgae, then Dang Mujin, Namgung Myeong, and Hyeon-gong bore some responsibility too.
Unable to suppress his grandmotherly concern, Dang Mujin approached Hong Geolgae and asked.
"Jusam. Nothing's wrong, is it?"
"Wrong how?"
"Well... how should I put it. Your movements look a bit awkward."
"Oh, that?"
Unexpectedly, Hong Geolgae's voice was brighter and crisper than usual. He even seemed somewhat pleased.
Dang Mujin asked back.
"You know what I'm talking about?"
"Of course. I've been practicing it hard."
"...Practicing? Practicing what?"
"What else? My behavior and movements."
Practicing clumsy movements on purpose. Dang Mujin couldn't comprehend it at all.
Hong Geolgae began his explanation with a proud expression.
"It happened like this..."
*
Two days earlier, the day they left Wudang Mountain.
As always, Hyeon-gong habitually checked on his friends' conditions.
'Namgung Myeong is normal. Dang Mujin seems restless. He sent a messenger pigeon home, but he can't fully relax. Well, it wouldn't be surprising if Dan Seol-yeong gave him an earful.'
Nothing unusual up to that point. But one thing caught his eye: Hong Geolgae looked strangely depressed.
'What happened?'
However, Hyeon-gong didn't approach rashly and waited until nightfall.
As expected, his prediction was spot on. Hong Geolgae had something weighing on him and sat watching the fire even after Dang Mujin and Namgung Myeong had fallen asleep.
Hyeon-gong quietly approached him.
"Hong Geolgae. Something on your mind?"
Hyeon-gong didn't use the title Hong Branch Leader.
He might have half-jokingly, half-seriously used "branch leader" when Geolseon was alive, but after Geolsen's death, the title felt awkward.
It even felt like calling Hong Geolgae "branch leader" had somehow caused Geolseon's death.
Hong Geolgae mumbled vaguely.
"Nah... just..."
It wasn't a perfect brush-off.
In such cases, coaxing a bit more usually brought out the truth without much trouble.
People also tend to be more honest at night.
"It's fine. You can open up if you want. Or not, if you're uncomfortable."
Silence flowed.
How much time passed? Hong Geolgae finally spilled a somewhat petty grievance.
"You know how Namgung Myeong and Dang Mujin teased me for quite a while, right? Almost three years? Namgung Myeong for about four."
"Yeah."
Of course, Hyeon-gong had teased Hong Geolgae too.
But not as persistently as Namgung Myeong and Dang Mujin. He had foreseen that Hong Geolgae would be useful someday. Building connections was basic for the future Wudang leader.
Hong Geolgae muttered.
"Every time they teased me, I thought: if I reach transcendent first, I'll tease them back."
"Fair enough. And you haven't been doing that lately?"
After becoming a transcendent expert, Hong Geolgae frequently brought up his skills to tease his friends.
Dang Mujin and Namgung Myeong took it in stride. They all knew Hong Geolgae had sacrificed for his friends, so enduring that much was only right.
The problem was that it wasn't enough to shake off Hong Geolgae's pent-up resentment.
He knew they were playing along on purpose, which made it impossible to tease them satisfyingly.
"...This isn't what I imagined. I wanted something more exhilarating."
"Their reactions fall flat, huh?"
"Yeah."
What Hong Geolgae wanted was an experience like the most thrilling parts of old tales.
Like a secret inspector quietly appearing to thrash corrupt officials, or an emperor disguised among the people, revealing himself dramatically. He wanted to reveal his transcendent prowess and tease his friends that way.
But Dang Mujin's group was just humoring his jokes.
It was because they knew Hong Geolgae too well, but Hyeon-gong saw a bigger issue.
"Hong Geolgae. You're misunderstanding something."
"What?"
"Anyone can bluff. But bluffing is a skill. You're still too clumsy. You're not ready to fool them."
Hong Geolgae's ears perked up. In a way, this was Hyeon-gong's area of expertise.
"In what way am I clumsy?"
Hyeon-gong expounded his theory without hesitation.
"The core of deception is one thing. You have to strike when they're unprepared."
"Got it."
"But you're not cunning or sharp enough by nature. Even if you suddenly flaunt your skills, you'll just get that same deflating reaction."
"...I know."
A brutally honest assessment.
Hong Geolgae decided to let it go. It was disappointing now, but it'd seem trivial later.
But unexpectedly, Hyeon-gong offered a solution.
"I'm not telling you to give up. It might be hard on those guys, but you can fool others easily enough."
"What do you mean?"
"You want to deceive them, startle them, and tease them, right? Then make them drop their guard more thoroughly. Once they're off guard, striking true isn't hard. The key is getting them to drop their guard."
"They won't just drop their guard because I want them to."
Fooling people who can't sense his skill wouldn't be satisfying, and those who could wouldn't underestimate him anyway.
"There's a way. Mimic the behavior and movements of someone with inferior skill."
A radical shift in thinking.
Martial artists often puff themselves up to seem stronger than they are.
But Hong Geolgae had never met one hiding their true strength. Martial artists usually flaunt themselves. And hiding skill isn't easy—it's a habit.
But now Hong Geolgae had the skill to hide it. If he meticulously observed and imitated the movements of lesser experts, who would notice?
One concern lingered, though.
"...Isn't that too petty?"
Hyeon-gong replied immediately.
"You're not asking them to look down on you, so no need to worry. You didn't flaunt your abilities; you just acted humbly. Besides, those who judge others by skill level need a harsh lesson."
A reasonable justification.
Of course, Hyeon-gong wasn't in a position to criticize those who evaluated by skill, but the argument sounded very convincing.
Finally, Hong Geolgae nodded with a satisfied expression.
*
"...And that's how it happened."
When the story ended, Dang Mujin looked at Hong Geolgae and Hyeon-gong with eyes tinged with subtle disgust.
Hyeon-gong's petty scheming transcended ordinary levels, and Hong Geolgae, who went along with it, was no different.
Of course, Hong Geolgae's act was convincingly done. Even Dang Mujin had to admit he didn't look like a transcendent expert now.
He felt like a first-rate or second-rate lowlife. Polish it more, and he might pass for a complete novice.
Few experts surpassing Hong Geolgae would see through the prank.
But training such a foolish skill just to prank others—it felt utterly alien for a transcendent expert.
'Did his rapid advance to the next realm cause a personality regression to balance it out?'
Unlike Dang Mujin, Namgung Myeong regarded Hong Geolgae with a somewhat serious expression.
It seemed like a skill with many uses.
Namgung Myeong asked.
"What's that skill called?"
Hong Geolgae looked at Hyeon-gong. He wasn't good at naming things.
Hyeon-gong stroked his chin with his right hand, thinking.
A memory surfaced of the prowess of Jang Sam-bong, Wudang's founder.
Jang Sam-bong's presence was profoundly serene, so mediocre martial artists mistook him for an untrained civilian.
Of course, Jang Sam-bong wouldn't have practiced it with Hong Geolgae's petty intent—it was likely the natural state of one reaching sublime heights.
But there was no exact term for it.
'What would fit?'
Suddenly, a Daoist term came to mind—one meaning returning to one's true, unadorned form.
"How about Return to True Form?"
As with anything petty at its core, the name sounded impressively profound.
*
A bit more time passed, and the group arrived in Kaifeng without incident.
Like other areas near the Yellow River, Kaifeng was vast and flat, with fertile soil rich in nutrients—peach trees were laden with fruit.
Naturally, the people of Kaifeng had plump, healthy faces.
'Well, the Beggars' Sect leader wouldn't base himself in a poor region.'
No anxiety or worry clouded their faces. In a righteous-evil war, small village folk or those entangled with martial artists like physicians or blacksmiths often suffered.
But massive cities like Kaifeng, Luoyang, or Chang'an were different.
Unless all evil faction martial artists went mad together, they couldn't swing swords at Kaifeng's civilians. It would turn the local magistrates, governors, and even the imperial court against them.
However, entering a side alley off Kaifeng's main market street changed everything.
'As expected.'
The alley was filled with gloomy-faced beggars. Wounded ones weren't few.
Among the Beggars' Sect members were plenty in clean clothes, looking somewhat awkward.
Hyeon-gong lowered his voice.
"Those in clean clothes are Beggars' Sect members too, right?"
"Yeah. Pure Clothes Faction. See the knots?"
Not all Beggars' Sect members were beggars.
Many martial artists, inspired by the sect's ethos of aiding the lowest classes, joined without becoming beggars.
They formed the Pure Clothes Faction, wearing clean attire. Most who ran taverns in the central plains were this type.
On the other hand, true beggars existed—the Filthy Clothes Faction, wearing ragged garments.
The Filthy Clothes Faction valued tradition, eating only begged food and living the stereotypical beggar life.
Not all started as beggars, though. Hong Geolgae's master, Great Wind Beggar Paeng Cheon, was once a Kunlun Daoist but chose the Filthy Clothes life after joining.
Similarly, Geolseon and Hong Geolgae could be called Filthy Clothes Faction.
That realization brought Dang Mujin a subtle sense of dissonance.
'Wait, is Hong Geolgae really Filthy Clothes Faction...?'
When they first met, Hong Geolgae was the epitome: filthy, smelly, eating only begged food.
But now, he had changed in many ways.
His clothes were worn but cleaner than typical Filthy Clothes beggars. Well-maintained old garments, perhaps.
He bathed regularly, so no smell, and he didn't eat only begged food anymore.
Sometime ago, he started eating at inns with Dang Mujin's group.
'...When was the last time Hong Geolgae begged?'
Even the Beggars' Sect members gave Hong Geolgae subtle looks.
Too ragged for Pure Clothes, too clean for Filthy. He was a gray-area bat between factions.
Sensing the group's extraordinary presence, an extremely filthy Beggars' Sect member strode toward them.
Dang Mujin's group naturally checked his waist first.
Four knots. A protector or equivalent high-ranking member. High status, though not quite Hong Geolgae's level.
The Filthy Clothes member asked Dang Mujin.
"Who might you be?"
"I'm Dang Mujin from Chengdu, Sichuan Province. These are my friends: Namgung Myeong, Hyeon-gong, and Hong Jusam."
"Dang Mujin... the Divine Dragon? Namgung family heir, Victory Dragon Sword, and Regulation Beggar... Hmm! Matches the rumors perfectly."
"What rumors do you mean?"
"Tales of the central plains' top four young experts traveling together. Descriptions of your appearances too."
The Filthy Clothes member admired the group but couldn't hide his disappointment at Hong Geolgae.
*His friends are impressive, but why is the Beggars' Sect guy so lacking?* His thoughts were plain.
Seeing that reaction, a dark thrill welled in Hong Geolgae's chest. His first deception had succeeded flawlessly.
But naturally, the Filthy Clothes member didn't rebuke Hong Geolgae in front of the group. Hong Geolgae was still his superior.
"Meeting young heroes—fortunate indeed. What brings you to the Beggars' Sect?"
"We met Acting Elder Sub on Wudang Mountain. He said we'd be helpful, so we came straight away."
Acting Elder Sub hadn't returned directly to Kaifeng; he was seeking aid from other sects.
Thus, no one currently in Kaifeng knew Hong Geolgae's achievements.
Hong Geolgae suppressed his excitement.
"Hmm... I see. The branch leader is away, so head to that inn. Oh, and Elder Fire Flower Old Beggar Heo is the new branch leader."
"We heard from Acting Elder. Thank you."
Dang Mujin gave a brief clasped-hands salute and headed to the inn.
Hong Geolgae savored the envious glances from behind. *I have four knots, and that guy's only got five?*
He thought life in Kaifeng would be highly enjoyable.
Hyeon-gong asked.
"But why the inn?"
"You'll see when we get there."
As expected, entering the inn revealed the reason.
Several Shaolin monks in kasaya robes were inside.
"Isn't that Donor Dang! I hoped we'd meet someday if luck allowed, and here opportunity comes amid the chaos!"
"Long time no see."
Many monks greeted Dang Mujin warmly. Figures like Evil Region Successor Cheongbok or Dahma Hall Leader Cheonghwan, ties from Shaolin years ago.
Seven years had passed, leaving undeniable traces of time on their faces.
One concern: their numbers were few. Even excluding famous ones like Shaolin's abbot Sinseung or Myeongryeok Sage Cheonguk.
"Where are the others?"
Dang Mujin asked Evil Region Successor Cheongbok.
Once the fussiest during the Mokinhang treatment, but afterward the most ardent supporter.
"There was an unfortunate incident, but most are just away temporarily—no great worry. Sit there and have a bite. It's Beggars' Sect-run, so no bill. Feed Donor Dang's friends too."
"Yes."
Dang Mujin's group sat in a corner, ordered simple food, and waited.
While chatting idly, Dang Mujin and Hyeon-gong felt a subtle gaze.
'Who is it?'
Scanning around, they looked upstairs.
The inn was a rare two-story with an open center like a lavish tavern, allowing views up.
There, they found the source: a blonde, blue-eyed foreigner woman staring intently. No acquaintance, of course.
'...Something up?'
No need for long thought. Upon eye contact, she turned away with a curt expression.
Hong Geolgae asked.
"What's up?"
"Nah, nothing."
Foreigners weren't common, but not unheard of. Dang Mujin ignored it and focused on eating.
Unlike Dang Mujin, however, Hyeon-gong's eyes sparkled.