Chapter 284
Chapter 284
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 284
Chapter Title: Breaking the Silence
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Even as the food arrived, Hyeon-gong kept pausing his chopsticks to glance upstairs, prompting Namgung Myeong, seated across from him, to speak in a dissatisfied tone.
"What's with you?"
"That young lady up there—she doesn't look extraordinarily special?"
The four were seated around a square table, so Hong Geolgae and Namgung Myeong had to turn around to look.
However, openly staring at a stranger was rude, so Namgung Myeong and Hong Geolgae only slightly turned their heads, rolling their eyes as far back as they could to check.
Dang Mujin looked upstairs again as well. It was out of pure curiosity.
Even in Chengdu, Dang Mujin's hometown, one could occasionally see Westerners, and in places like Zhongqing, Luoyang, or Wuchang, there were even more.
Dang Mujin himself had seen at least a few hundred Westerners by now.
But this was the first time he'd laid eyes on a Western woman.
Almost all the Westerners seen in the Central Plains were merchants, and merchants embarking on journeys that could take years were men, every single one of them.
Moreover, the woman's eye and hair color were peculiar.
The most common type of Westerner had brown eyes and black hair, slightly dark skin, and notably thick beards. So-called people from the Great Food Country.
A Westerner with hair as yellow as an autumn rice stalk and eyes as blue as the sky was exceedingly rare.
Namgung Myeong replied in a bored voice.
"She is unusual. But not as beautiful as Okryeong."
Everyone in Dang Mujin's group except Namgung Myeong paused to recall who Okryeong was.
Only after a moment did the name come back to them. Namgung Myeong's fiancée, Jeong Okryeong of the Bowon Sect.
"...Come to think of it, you have a match too, huh. I thought everyone was in the same boat except Dang Mujin."
"As if."
Namgung Myeong grumbled in response.
However, by Hyeon-gong's aesthetic standards, Jeong Okryeong was a woman of refined features, but not a strikingly beautiful one.
Beauty was highly subjective, though, so if she pleased the man himself, that was all that mattered.
Hyeon-gong, hoping to steer the topic back, flashed a more generous smile than usual and returned to the original subject.
"Anyway, it's the first time I've seen someone with such a unique aura, like that Western young lady."
Dang Mujin and Hong Geolgae narrowed their eyes.
Hyeon-gong had a habit of fawning over women who caught his fancy. It happened about once a year. He'd been quiet lately, so it seemed his time had come again.
Each sect had its own customs, but Daoists could generally marry. The Wudang Sect didn't explicitly forbid it.
That didn't mean marriage was encouraged, however.
It was more like, "We won't stop you if you insist, but why not think it over once more?"
Aside from a few sects like the Jincheng Sect or Kunlun Sect that were particularly open to romantic relationships, the atmosphere in Daoist sects was largely similar.
Perhaps sensing Hyeon-gong's gaze, the Western woman glanced downstairs with a slight frown.
Hyeon-gong tried flashing what he thought was a charming smile, but it had little effect.
Meanwhile, Dang Mujin ducked his head and said,
"Namgung Myeong or Hong Geolgae—anyone want to switch seats with me?"
"Why?"
"I'd rather not risk making eye contact with that woman. I promised Seol Yeong I wouldn't get entangled with any more women."
Hong Geolgae burst into laughter.
"What nonsense is this all of a sudden? You think something's gonna happen just from eye contact?"
"No. It's just... I seem to have this knack for unwittingly charming women. Seol Yeong, Wan-a..."
It was such absurd drivel that Hong Geolgae gripped his chopsticks tightly, and Namgung Myeong nearly flung a bowl of steaming noodles at Dang Mujin without thinking.
They bickered like that until they finished eating, and after a short wait, Cheongbok from Shaolin Temple approached Dang Mujin again.
"Excuse me, Hero Dang. It's a bit much to bring up right after reuniting, but could I ask a favor? Of course, feel free to refuse if it's inconvenient."
"What favor?"
"Could you take charge of one person?"
Dang Mujin could guess who that "one person" was without asking, but he played dumb.
"Who do you mean?"
Cheongbok of the Akgu lineage pointed a finger over his shoulder. Sure enough, there was the Western woman.
Dang Mujin shook his head firmly.
"I'm a married man."
"...Who said anything about marrying her?"
"Ah... right. Anyway, who is this woman that you're asking me to take her on?"
"I'm not entirely sure myself."
"...?"
Dang Mujin stared at Cheongbok, who looked embarrassed.
"Last time, during the fight with Northern unorthodox warriors, Beggars' Sect members found her and brought her to us."
Dang Mujin's face hardened.
"Found in the North? She seems to know martial arts from her demeanor—isn't she an unorthodox martial artist?"
"From the circumstances, she doesn't seem to be. They just met in that region; she wasn't with the unorthodox martial artists. Plus, if she were, she wouldn't have followed us here. She clearly has some purpose for trailing us all this way, but she's so tight-lipped she won't say a word."
Dang Mujin sighed. He could guess what Cheongbok was thinking.
"So in the end, you're saying I have to win her over and get her to talk."
But Cheongbok cut him off firmly.
"No, no, nothing like that. Just look after her for us. Our Shaolin monks aren't great at dealing with women."
Dang Mujin finally understood.
Of course, for monks who'd lived their whole lives in Shaolin Temple—a place of complete celibacy—dealing with women would be extremely awkward.
"If Shaolin can't handle it, why not hand her to the Beggars' Sect?"
"That's who dumped her on us in the first place—they couldn't deal with her either."
"Ah..."
The Western woman exuded the refined air of someone from wealth and high status. It was the polar opposite of Beggars' Sect members.
The righteous Beggars' Sect folks might find her less burdensome, but they seemed to have their own reasons, so Dang Mujin didn't pry further.
At that point, Hyeon-gong chimed in.
"Helping someone in distress is unequivocally a good deed. I, Hyeon-gong of Wudang Sect, will not turn a blind eye to another's troubles."
"Dependable as ever! I'll leave it to you, Hyeon-gong."
Cheongbok replied as if he'd been waiting, thanked him profusely before Hyeon-gong could back out, and vanished swiftly.
Dang Mujin's group glared at Hyeon-gong, who'd taken on the unwanted burden, but he studiously avoided their eyes.
*
Dang Mujin, Hong Geolgae, and Namgung Myeong kept a proper distance from the Western woman. The responsibility fell solely on Hyeon-gong, not the whole group.
They didn't need to leave the inn and find separate lodgings just because of her. They simply had to watch over her while staying at the inn.
Yet no matter how Hyeon-gong hovered around her and tried to strike up conversations, the Western woman remained utterly silent.
'She must have an extremely reserved personality.'
Contrary to expectations, the Western woman didn't stay cooped up in the inn.
Three times a day, she ventured outside, poking around crowded areas.
She even subtly signaled Hyeon-gong with her eyes each time, clearly urging him to follow.
He had no idea why, but it wasn't a big deal. Hyeon-gong reveled in the springtime of his life.
He kept a moderate distance, though, not getting too close.
He thought it was consideration for the lady, but really, it stemmed from his own awkwardness with women.
Truth be told, Hyeon-gong had never even held a peer's hand. Not once.
'I hear a woman's hand is far softer than a man's. I just want to hold one once.'
Days passed like that. While wandering a bustling alley as usual, the Western woman suddenly startled as if spotting something.
She confirmed Hyeon-gong trailing her, locked eyes briefly, then pushed through the crowd toward somewhere. Hyeon-gong hurried after her.
Where she stopped stood a Western man. He was fairly burly, with yellow hair and blue eyes like hers.
From his attire, he seemed like a porter on a merchant caravan or an inexperienced trader.
'Someone she knows?'
Visibly excited, the Western woman poured out words in a language Hyeon-gong had never heard, directed at the Western man.
A thought suddenly struck him.
Maybe she wasn't taciturn—she simply didn't know the Central Plains language, so she'd said nothing at all.
Her prowling crowded places these past days must have been to find an interpreter.
The Western man listened for a while, then spoke to Hyeon-gong in slightly halting speech.
"Um—Daoist sir. This lady wants you to pass on a message."
"Yes. Go ahead."
"She says she's looking for whoever sent these letters."
The Western woman handed Hyeon-gong a crumpled piece of paper.
Even before unfolding the letter, Hyeon-gong felt a tightness in his chest. He wanted to help, but figuring out the sender from a letter seemed unlikely by common sense.
The sender info in such letters was usually just a name at best.
But as he read it, Hyeon-gong's expression turned subtle.
[This letter originated in Sichuan Province. Deliver identical copies to seven people within twelve hours, and great fortune will come your way. The Jin Family of Hebei delivered seven letters, deeming it a hoax, and the next day found five ingots of gold at the cliff base...]
The contents were all too familiar. In fact, Hyeon-gong himself had written those very words.
Feeling fate draw near, Hyeon-gong asked the Western man in a trembling voice,
"Why is she looking for the sender, by any chance?"
"She says she has a favor to ask someone capable of sending out this massive number of letters."
It seemed the Western woman didn't fully grasp how the letters had spread.
She just figured that since so many people had similar letters, an enormous quantity must have been sent.
"Can you get to the point of her request?"
The Western man relayed between Hyeon-gong and the woman.
"This lady and I hail from a distant northern land, so barren that merchants rarely pass through."
"I've traveled fairly far north myself, but I've never heard of Westerners living there. What's the name of that land?"
"I don't know its Central Plains name. In our northern tongue, it means 'northern sea,' so translated, something like North Sea."
Hyeon-gong had thought the north was endless land, but apparently there was a sea beyond. He nodded in admiration.
"Anyway, can you tell me what she plans to request from the letter's owner?"
"It might take a bit— is that alright?"
"Of course."
"This lady is a practitioner of northern martial arts, from an extremely noble family. But about two or three years ago, a Central Plains man appeared in her clan."
The man's deference, constantly checking her expression, suggested her nobility was no lie.
To Hyeon-gong, though, status wasn't the biggest issue. Far more pressing was her skill level.
Her cultivation was quite impressive. She could easily kill the burly Western man right here if she struck.
"Please continue."
"Clans don't teach martial arts to outsiders as a rule, but this Central Plains man's constitution suited it so well that they taught him the family arts. Then one day, he stole the clan manual and a treasure called Millennia Ice Essence, and fled."
He'd made off with martial arts, spirit medicine, and manuals—all of it.
Now Hyeon-gong could guess her intentions.
"So she's sending letters across the Central Plains to track the fugitive?"
"Exactly."
A petty thief fleeing to a far-off land might be let go, but stealing manuals and treasures changed everything.
They had every right to send people across the world to hunt him down.
Hyeon-gong pondered.
'Like the letters I sent for Brother Jang, could spreading similar ones across the Central Plains find the thief?'
It wasn't impossible.
But he doubted it would catch the thief. Unlike helping Brother Jang, the thief wouldn't come to the Dang family after reading it.
The thief could just hide and play dumb.
It was a tough spot to be truly helpful. Yet Hyeon-gong didn't want to seem weak before this fateful woman.
Determined to at least show sincerity, he asked,
"Do you know anything about the thief? Facial features, age, name—anything like that."
At his words, the Western woman spoke up.
"I know name."
Clear voice. Heavily accented, but unmistakably Central Plains speech.
Hyeon-gong asked again.
"What's the name?"
He asked without much expectation.
If he ended up spreading letters later, he planned to include it.
But unexpectedly, a familiar name emerged.
"Baek Hyang-a."
Hyeon-gong's eyes widened.
Granddaughter of the Sword King. Disciple of Muryangja. The woman Hyeon-gong had once taken hostage using mind arts. Baek Hyang-a.
The Western woman's eyes blazed with fury as she spoke the name.
With burning rage and hatred, she added one final word.
"Bad thief."