Chapter 345
Chapter 345
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 345
Chapter Title: Hyeon-gong Asks Dang Mujin
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Hyeon-gong asked Dang Mujin,
"Where are you headed?"
"Our destination is north, so there's no need to go out of our way through Chongqing. Let's take the Hanzhong route."
Dang Mujin decided on Hanzhong as if it were the most obvious choice. No one raised any objections.
Merchants coming and going from Sichuan used the Yangtze River, while non-merchants invariably took the Hanzhong route.
Long ago, Hanzhong was a land where heroes like Liu Bang and Liu Bei vied for supremacy over the realm, but now it was merely a transportation hub.
In truth, with everyone's martial prowess being so exceptional, they could have bypassed heading northeast to Hanzhong and simply gone straight north, crossing the mountains directly.
But even among the eccentrics of the martial world, no one entered or exited Sichuan that way.
Traversing sheer cliffs didn't shorten the journey at all, and it demanded ten times the effort.
Not to mention, it wasn't just the travel that was grueling. Remote mountains meant no inns, not even farmhouses.
Dang Mujin had no intention of starting the journey by enduring cold dew and sleeping outdoors.
"Best to conserve strength from the outset if you want a comfortable trip all the way."
*After four days on the road, the group arrived in Hanzhong and headed straight for an inn.
There was no need to scrutinize the inn's exterior or the guests' appearances to gauge prices, as they had before.
Dang Mujin led them to the finest-looking inn.
As Dang Mujin's group of four entered, the bustling inn fell silent for a moment.
Martial artists were always objects of fascination. The guests' reaction was pure curiosity. They stopped their conversations and eyed the group's attire and movements.
The innkeeper, on the other hand, seemed a bit uneasy.
Having martial artists as guests often led to quarrels escalating into blade fights.
Worse still, young martial artists frequently lacked funds and tried to stiff the inn on room fees.
One might wonder why they didn't just go to a cheaper place if money was tight, but young martial artists inevitably went through a phase of puffed-up bravado.
Bathed in the attention that came with being a martial artist, sword at their belt, they saw everyone as beneath them.
These young fools believed they deserved lavish treatment despite empty pockets. That phase lasted until some other martial artist, tired of their antics, beat the arrogance out of them.
Seeing the innkeeper's expression darken by the moment, Dang Mujin placed a money pouch on the counter first.
The pouch's substantial weight visibly eased the man's tension.
"We need rooms for the night. How much per room?"
"One tael of silver per room."
It was a bit steep for one night, but Hanzhong saw heavy traffic. Prices were accordingly high.
And they'd chosen the priciest inn in such a place, so one tael was entirely expected.
'I'll take one alone, put Hong Geolgae and Hyeon-gong together, and Seolhwa needs her own.'
As Dang Mujin reached for three taels of silver, Hyeon-gong's transmission sounded in his ear.
- Dang Mujin. Just get two rooms.
- Why?
- Better to save money where we can. Share with Hong Geolgae.
In other words, he planned to room with Seolhwa.
Dang Mujin glanced at Seolhwa's face. She showed no sign of prior agreement—utterly oblivious.
Suddenly, he recalled the day Hyeon-gong had announced he'd head north with Seolhwa.
Looking back, when Dang Mujin had seemed reluctant to join, Hyeon-gong hadn't shown much disappointment. He must have anticipated a moment like this.
If Dang Mujin booked only two rooms here, Hyeon-gong would feign reluctance while extending his claws toward Seolhwa.
Dang Mujin decided to uphold the world's moral order.
- You're my friend. And I don't skimp on money for friends.
- Wait!
Hyeon-gong's transmission struck like a slap, but Dang Mujin boldly pulled out three silver taels and set them on the table.
"Innkeep! Three rooms here!"
"Yes! Right this way. Follow me."
The innkeeper, beaming now, led them to the rooms.
Hyeon-gong glared at Dang Mujin with eyes blazing.
His grievance was obvious, but Dang Mujin held the moral high ground. What decent man shares a room with a grown woman?
Dang Mujin gestured at Hyeon-gong.
"You bunk with Hong Geolgae."
"...Didn't you say you don't skimp on friends?"
Transmissions left no evidence. Dang Mujin played innocent.
"When did I?"
Hyeon-gong shot him a look full of resentment.
But Dang Mujin controlled the purse strings. And he knew this was the time to maintain discipline without yielding.
An ordinary person might hold a grudge, but Hyeon-gong was the type to coldly assess reality and back down, even in such situations.
Having shown him who held the gold, Hyeon-gong would be a touch more deferential tomorrow.
Dang Mujin entered his room alone and slept soundly in the spacious quarters.
*And the next morning.
Waking, Dang Mujin realized someone lay beside him.
He cracked his eyes and checked who it was.
Namgung Myeong.
"...?"
Dang Mujin quietly rose and kicked Namgung Myeong in the side.
"Urk!"
Namgung Myeong scowled.
"Why wake someone sleeping well?"
"When did you get here?"
"When? Last night, obviously."
Dang Mujin never slept deeply outside the Dang family stronghold.
He might seem out cold, but any stir nearby snapped him awake to assess the situation.
Yet even he hadn't sensed Namgung Myeong slipping in. Not surprising, really— it was Namgung Myeong, after all.
Somehow divining Dang Mujin's thoughts, Namgung Myeong smirked confidently.
"Don't worry. I shook the tail clean. No one saw my face."
The pursuer was undoubtedly Nangong Jincheon, off to capture "Shen Tu."
Namgung Myeong had become fine enough scum to call his own father a pursuer.
His sudden appearance caught Dang Mujin off guard, but a faint relief washed over him.
Now the group felt complete, no one missing.
"You're up anyway. Time to rise."
Dang Mujin stretched and headed out.
The others barely blinked at Namgung Myeong. As if they'd expected him.
*Leaving Hanzhong, the group pressed north.
Through Jiezhou region— the gap between Kunlun Sect and Zhongnan Sect—then across the Yellow River.
They called it a gap for convenience, but Kunlun and Zhongnan territories lay far apart.
Thus, Jiezhou lacked major sects yet had plenty of people, making it ideal for mid-tier sects to establish bases and expand influence.
Entering Jiezhou, they saw minor martial artists strutting about with some skill.
Most ignored the group, but a few startled at the sight and shrank back.
"Come here!"
When their senior suddenly turned cautious, the young martial artists asked puzzled,
"What's wrong?"
"See those youths? The one leading is Jeong-eon, and beside him is Yi-ryong."
"Then the two behind are... Gyucho Beggar and Namgung Myeong?"
"Right."
The group perked their ears to the whispers.
Dang Mujin and Hyeon-gong felt nothing, but Hong Geolgae and Namgung Myeong smarted in opposite ways.
Hong Geolgae ached that his moniker had spread even here; Namgung Myeong, that he wasn't called Sword King.
It was natural the Sword King title hadn't reached Jiezhou. Nangong lands were far off.
As they bought provisions and prepared to leave Jiezhou, vaguely familiar faces gathered nearby, stealing glances.
Not great experts, nor anyone they knew by name, let alone conversed with.
Yet some faces rang bells, and their attire looked familiar.
Hong Geolgae recognized their robes and asked Hyeon-gong,
"Those guys— Kunlun Sect Daoists, right?"
"Yeah. From the Orthodox-Demonic War."
The group couldn't fathom why Kunlun Daoists roamed Jiezhou.
Large sects set up branches everywhere.
But as far as they knew, Kunlun had no such outposts.
While others expanded branches, Kunlun struggled just running Huanguo Pavilion up north.
Hyeon-gong guessed the reason.
"Huanguo Pavilion burned down, and they gave up rebuilding. Guess Kunlun's starting branches like everyone else."
"Ah, makes sense."
That was the extent of the group's reaction.
Had it been Wudang, Zhongnan, or Huashan branch, they'd have lingered a day for hospitality.
But their ties to Kunlun were messy.
Hong Geolgae asked Dang Mujin,
"Mujin, how many times has Kunlun's sect leader changed lately?"
"Four leaders... so three changes."
First, Kunlun's Muryangja.
Muryangja, Baek Hyang-a's master and former Six Venerables, tried to kill Yu Gwan-il and Yu Jin-gwang but met his end instead.
Next, Sangyu Daoist took over. Dang Mujin never met him. Demon Cult spy Baek Ya-hyo killed Sangyu and seized Kunlun.
Baek Ya-hyo fell to Manryeokseung, then Sangyu's brother, Sanggwal Daoist, became leader.
Hyeon-gong summed up Kunlun's state.
"What a mess."
Kunlun's affairs were a mess, and so were their relations with the group.
Two of four leaders' deaths involved them somehow. And now they headed to find Muryangja's disciple, Baek Hyang-a.
No telling how current leader Sanggwal Daoist viewed them.
They'd helped kill Baek Ya-hyo and save Kunlun, but also slain Muryangja, hastening its fall.
Same uncertainty with this unknown Jiezhou branch leader.
Sane folk wouldn't draw blades in their face, but awkward stares were likely.
Hong Geolgae said,
"Not the best setup for a free meal."
"Yeah. Best steer clear."
As they ignored the Daoists' stares and moved to leave Jiezhou, a Daoist rushed up, cupping hands before Dang Mujin. He seemed higher-ranked than the others.
"Might you be the Four Dragons?"
"...Four Dragons?"
Bewildered by the unfamiliar term, the group hesitated, but the Daoist pressed on.
"Yes! Yi-ryong, Geom-ryong, Do-ryong, and that one..."
He seemed to be crafting nicknames based on Dang Mujin's moniker.
Evidently struggling with Hong Geolgae, he blurted,
"...To-ryong?"
Hong Geolgae's face twisted subtly. To-ryong meant earthworm.
But he couldn't snap outright. Deep down, it beat Gyucho Beggar. A faint self-loathing stirred in Hong Geolgae.
Dang Mujin asked the Daoist,
"What brings you here?"
"The young heroes have graced Jiezhou, so we've orders to host you lavishly."
"Ah..."
Too early to stay overnight.
But refusing such an overt invitation felt rude.
This could mend ties with Kunlun, so Dang Mujin nodded.
"Understood."
*The group followed the Daoist.
The "branch" was shabby and cramped— half the size of Qingcheng's Chengdu branch.
"..."
They hadn't expected grandeur, but hopes dipped lower.
They entered the building as led, took seats, and waited.
Namgung Myeong remarked,
"No matter how you slice it, this place looks rough. Sure it's a Kunlun branch?"
"You know Kunlun's hurting. Branches might be modest. Everyone has tough times; they're in one now."
Dang Mujin spoke maturely.
Then footsteps approached from outside.
The door opened, and three people entered with food trays. The spread looked... off.
Few dishes was fine.
But it screamed penny-pinching with heavy meat and grease to compensate. Chicken dominated.
Still, no intent to reject over skimpy fare, so Dang Mujin bowed politely.
"Our thanks for the lavish welcome."
"Yes. We hope it suits your tastes..."
As the three left and they prepared to eat, a man Dang Mujin unmistakably recalled appeared.
No mistaking the massive scar on his forehead.
The scarred Daoist addressed the group.
"Welcome to Kunlun Sect headquarters. Rest easy."
Scarred forehead. Kunlun's sect leader, Sanggwal Daoist.
'...Why's the sect leader here?'
Odder still, he'd called this place not the Jiezhou branch, but Kunlun headquarters.
Why was Kunlun's main sect in Jiezhou, not Kunlun Mountain?
The group was baffled.