Chapter 36
Chapter 36
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 36
Chapter Title: Nangong Clan
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The two left the Nangong Clan and headed toward the forge that Nangong Jincheon had directed them to.
Dang Mujin felt a faint unease. It was because Yi Chung wore an utterly serious expression.
It was more burdensome when someone who always laughed and joked suddenly turned solemn than when a typically gruff person got angry.
Unable to bear the silence, Dang Mujin spoke up.
"Why the long face? Did you run into someone you don't get along with?"
"No. Bumping into a few unpleasant folks is no big deal. It happens all the time. The problem is your actions."
"What about them? The sword giving birth to pups? I know it's ridiculous. But I had no choice. That was the only excuse that came to mind. You played along perfectly, so why complain now?"
"No. Whether the sword births pups or suckles them—that's not the issue."
Yi Chung tapped the side of his head, then glanced at Dang Mujin as if he'd sorted his thoughts.
"I've told you a few times: if you're going to be a sucker, be a mad dog instead. Why do you think I said that?"
Dang Mujin had brushed off the 'sucker versus mad dog' talk lightly.
Yi Chung made too many jokes for him to take every word to heart.
"Who knows? So we wouldn't look like easy marks?"
"Exactly. In the martial world, what does 'easy mark' mean?"
"Someone weak?"
"That's part of it. But there's someone even easier: a guy who doesn't pay back what's coming to him. In that sense, trying to cover Nangong Myeong's malice with kindness makes you a prime sucker."
After all that buildup, the punchline was 'you're a sucker.' Dang Mujin replied peevishly.
"So what? A big-hearted guy like me can afford to show some kindness. It's not like forging a sword takes months— a few days of work is all."
"No, you shouldn't have shown kindness there. Remember this: repay kindness with kindness, malice with malice."
An excessively straightforward answer. Dang Mujin couldn't wrap his head around it.
"How was I supposed to show malice to Nangong Myeong? Just looking at Nangong Jincheon made my knees shake."
Yi Chung clicked his tongue at Dang Mujin.
"Who said to show malice? If you're not capable enough, you might not repay kindness or get revenge for malice. Most worldly debts get buried like that. But never repay kindness with malice, and never cover malice with kindness. You didn't deflect the malice—you tried to repay it with kindness."
Repaying kindness with malice made sense. People called those ingrates all the time.
But covering malice with kindness? That was harder to grasp.
"It doesn't have to be so black-and-white. Good intentions or bad, if I've got the spare capacity, I can extend kindness first. Since I showed it upfront, Nangong Jinya the hero and Nangong Myeong will surely be grateful."
Dang Mujin's father, Dang Jesun, often treated the poor for free. Whether they were close, distant, or on bad terms.
Extending kindness first melted away old grudges in no time.
Sometimes, he'd shed bad blood and get more than the treatment fee in return—a basket of delicious fruit, a finely woven basket.
That generational wisdom had raised Dang Mujin.
It was why the Dang family had been beloved physicians in Chengdu for generations.
Yi Chung's brow furrowed at Dang Mujin's words.
"Well, a guy who's spent his life brewing herbal soups in the boonies wouldn't get it."
"I've never been called stupid before."
"No, not stupid. You just don't know a martial artist's way of life. Listen up. Repay kindness with malice, and no one will reach out to you. Repay malice with kindness, and vultures will swarm to devour you."
"But—"
"Quiet and listen. Cover their malice with your kindness, and nine out of ten will repay you with even greater kindness. Martial artists are human too, and humans know gratitude. But one out of ten will strike back with malice."
"There you go—that proves it. Without kindness, you'd face ten malices head-on. With it, just one. Better to give kindness."
Yi Chung snorted.
"That's clear proof you don't get martial artists. Malice toward a physician? At worst, bad rumors or grumbling on the street. But malice between martial artists ends in steel and blood."
An old forge came into view in the distance.
Yi Chung slowed his pace slightly, as if wanting to wrap up before entering.
"You can handle ten blocking your path. Run, retreat, or have allies lead the charge. But one drawing a blade at your back? Unbearable. Don't hand out cheap kindness and invite danger from behind."
Yi Chung slowed even more. They crawled along like slugs. The breeze was gentle.
"Why did Nangong Jinya humble himself before you, a mere second-rate? Simple: he's a veteran who knows how hard it is to overlook malice. Why did I press Nangong Jinya and cut him off? Same reason: I know what massive trouble that breeds."
Yi Chung finally stopped. Arms crossed, he fixed Dang Mujin with a stern gaze.
It didn't feel like looking at a mere travel companion. More like an older brother with a big age gap, a martial world senior, or something else.
"So, what should I have done?"
"I said it's inevitable justice. Put wrongs right—that's the foundation of all things. Report the truth to Nangong Jincheon, make Nangong Myeong pay his due."
"But Nangong Jinya the hero said he'd end up in prison or crippled in his dantian. That's too harsh."
Yi Chung nodded slightly in agreement.
"Covering his crime moderately would've been fine too. Like you said: someone else stole it, sword ended up in Nangong Myeong's hands by chance. That was the best play. But forging a new one and adding a favor? Foolish. Overkill."
Dang Mujin grasped what Yi Chung meant.
But deep down, he couldn't accept it easily.
Life as a physician had taught him one thing; Yi Chung's advice seemed similar yet worlds apart.
Yi Chung held the grave mood a while, then chuckled softly. The tension eased.
"Soft-hearted fool... Fine. Everyone learns after one bite, but few learn before."
Cool wind blew down the hillside.
They didn't enter the forge right away, circling it slowly instead.
Far from the village, no one seemed likely to approach.
"Still, remember: never cover malice with kindness. You're a physician—you'll extend it to many. All the more reason."
Crunch, crunch. Only their footsteps sounded. Dang Mujin broke the silence.
"...Will Nangong Myeong harm me?"
"Who knows. But he's not innately vicious. If he were, he'd have killed you or covered his tracks."
Dang Mujin sighed in relief, stretched lightly, and entered the forge.
Flames soon roared in the dusty furnace, followed by the clang of hammers.
Yi Chung stayed outside, sitting till sunset, lost in old memories.
*
Five days later, Dang Mujin and Yi Chung headed back to the Nangong Clan. Some onlookers whispered as they passed.
"They're here."
Entertainment was scarce in this world.
Days after the banquet should have ended, but stragglers lingered around the Nangong Clan, so the festivities dragged on.
Banquets end when guests leave; hosts must entertain while they last.
The crowd trailed Dang Mujin and Yi Chung into the grounds.
As before, Nangong Jincheon sat at the head, flanked by Nangong Jinya, Nangong Myeong, and a dozen clan leaders and division heads.
Dang Mujin eyed Nangong Myeong beside Nangong Jincheon. Fear and undisguised guilt etched his face.
All eyes fixed on Yi Chung.
But he said nothing. He was just the guarantor. Dang Mujin was the star.
Nangong Jincheon asked Dang Mujin calmly.
"Curious. Did the sword birth pups?"
Low laughter rippled through. No one there believed swords birthed pups literally.
Their interests boiled down to two: First, what wild lie would this brash youth spin to steal a Nangong treasured sword? Second, why back him?
If pressed for a third: what gruesome death awaited for insulting the Nangong Clan?
Nangong warriors eyed Dang Mujin. The experts' gazes cut like blades.
His heart raced under the pressure. But Dang Mujin had the shamelessness to keep a straight face.
"Yes. It bore sturdy pups."
Amid the snickers, Dang Mujin drew two identical-looking swords.
Onlookers nodded.
The classic swindle: prepare lookalikes, swap one out.
But near-impossible against Nangong sword masters.
Whispers rose.
"Yi Chung's gone all in. Jumping into that mess."
"He's always half-dead anyway. Miracle he's lasted this long."
Nangong Jincheon gestured; the chief steward approached Dang Mujin, took the swords.
One went to the left end's retainers, the other to the right.
Division Head Nangong Hwan of the Entrance Hall received one at the left end.
Nangong Jincheon addressed the room.
"Swing it once, pass it on."
Nangong Hwan drew his. The plain, unadorned blade gleamed in the sun.
'This is the real one.'
Like others, he'd devoted his life to the sword.
At his pinnacle, he could judge a blade without swinging—by balance, sheen, aura. True treasures revealed themselves.
Yet Nangong Hwan stepped forward and swung grandly. Such chances were rare in a lifetime.
He savored it purely.
'...Magnificent.'
The sharp slice through air.
He yearned to clash it against others. The famed sword that cleaved the Three Peaks Sword in two—his distant dream.
Any form would do; he wanted more of this feel. Spar with it, stake life and death.
Nangong Hwan dawdled, reluctant to pass.
But Division Head Nangong Jinseol of the Extraordinary Hall waited, so he handed it over regretfully.
Nangong Jinseol took it, grinned broadly, stepped up, and swung.
Soon after, the right-side sword reached Nangong Jinseol, then Nangong Hwan. Nangong Jinseol's expression was odd as he passed it.
Nangong Hwan disliked this. No desire to dull his senses with a crude fake.
But he wasn't here for personal indulgence. Reluctantly, he drew the new one.
And panicked.
'...Why'd the real one come back?'
He swung it in the air.
The edge cleaved air keenly. No internal energy, yet it felt infused.
Nangong Hwan cried out confidently.
"They're switched midway. The real one came here twice."
Others hadn't objected yet—lacking the eye, still unsure.
Thus, Nangong Hwan enjoyed subtle superiority, first to call it. Until Division Head Nangong Unjung of the Victory Angle spoke from the opposite end.
"No. The real one came here twice too."
Nangong Hwan rose, undisguised disappointment toward Nangong Unjung.
With so many watching, a division head exposing such poor judgment? Shameless. He'd split the difference otherwise.
Nangong Hwan approached, hand out, glaring.
"Give me the sword."
Nangong Unjung's sword went to his left hand. Another bizarre sensation.
This was real too.
"What...?"
He swung hastily. Flesh-slicing sharpness.
The blade flexed gracefully yet stably. Near-fragile balance snapped back perfectly. Contrasting coarse hilt grip.
Undeniably real.
No—this couldn't be.
One had to be fake. Similar shape, crudely made.
But his fingertips said both real.
Only now did he understand Nangong Jinseol's earlier doubt.
As flustered Nangong Hwan mumbled, Nangong Jincheon asked.
"The swords didn't switch. Speak, Nangong Hwan. Left hand sword, right hand sword—which is real?"
Nangong Hwan looked around in panic.
The young con, Yi Chung, dozens of onlookers—all hung on his words.
He had to say something, but no answer came.
So he bowed his head.
"...I don't know. My eye is lacking; both feel real."
Bold onlookers jeered.
'Pinnacle expert, can't tell swords apart?'
Then, one whisper pierced his ears.
'What if both were real from the start?'
Yes—that was it. Nangong Hwan snapped his head up.
"Yes! Both real. Twin swords from one hand."
Nangong Jincheon burst laughing.
"Indeed. Maybe true twins. From the same womb."
Nangong Jincheon pointed at Dang Mujin with his right hand. Nangong Hwan followed the finger.
Dang Mujin held a third identical sword.
"Huh...?"
Nangong Hwan's mind reeled. Not two—three?
Did the sword really birth pups? No. At least one of three was fake.
He stomped to Dang Mujin, snatched the sword.
Drew and swung.
A form swung thousands, tens of thousands of times.
Fingertips declared this real too.
Nangong Hwan scanned wildly, bewildered. Confused onlookers. Confident Dang Mujin and Yi Chung.
He usually minded appearances.
But now, no leisure to fret how foolish or disgraceful he looked.
"Strange. I can't tell. No fake..."
Pinnacle expert Nangong Hwan affirmed all three real. Onlookers' faces filled with shock.
Not just him. Other Nangong warriors nodded: both they held were real.
Onlookers' minds swirled with questions.
What trick?
Hallucinogens? Impossible— not on all Nangong elites.
Nangong staging a farce? No reason.
Three reals from start? Odd.
Forged in secret? No—swords aren't whipped up; rushed ones, Nangong would spot.
Sword really birthed? Absurd.
Every possibility far-fetched. Onlookers huddled, buzzing like bees.
Then, Nangong Jincheon stomped lightly. Ground quaked faintly, dust rose. Chatter stopped.
Nangong warriors and onlookers hung on his words.
"Nangong Hwan says all three are real. Other leaders agree. Anyone guess why?"
Nangong warriors shook heads. No onlooker spoke.
Nangong Jincheon smiled faintly.
"No one can guess, so we should respect Dang Mujin's word as proper."
A decree in the name of the Six Venerables.
Unfathomable, but no more debate.
Dang Mujin approached Nangong Hwan, hand out. Nangong Hwan handed it over reflexively.
Dang Mujin took the three swords to Nangong Myeong. His knees trembled faintly—few noticed.
Now Nangong Myeong's heart pounded wildly. Eyes shook anxiously.
Before crowds, elders—he feared Dang Mujin branding him thief.
But Dang Mujin spoke softly.
"Even a wild dog seeks a den when birthing. Due reason this sword neared its time in Hero Nangong Myeong's hand."
Dang Mujin set one new sword before Nangong Myeong.
"Cherish it."
As Dang Mujin finished, Nangong Jincheon clapped lightly.
"Fine spectacle, fine sword gained—how not commemorate? All, enjoy one more day. Dang Mujin and Yi Chung, who gave rare gifts, stay the night in my quarters."
Food and drink refilled the waning banquet.
Onlookers chattered in wonder, gradually succumbing to drink.
*
The banquet's final day outdid the first in revelry. Banquets thrive on excitement, not length.
Dang Mujin's three swords were peerless entertainment.
Night deepened. Onlookers grew rowdy with drink.
Dang Mujin and Yi Chung lay in the Nangong Clan's finest hall. Dang Mujin's first time in such luxury.
He'd drunk a few cups, face flushed.
Maybe lingering daytime thrill, not just alcohol.
"Whew. Dodged a bullet. Had no idea how it'd go."
"What 'go'? Eyes everywhere. Nangong won't swing wildly before crowds."
"It's not just hands-on trouble. Locking eyes with Nangong Jincheon made my legs shake. Manage expressions too?"
"Some man you are, with a gut that small."
Yi Chung snorted. Wanted to tease more, but Dang Mujin had handled it admirably. Commendable.
Dang Mujin grinned dopily.
"Still, debts aside, it ended well."
Nangong Myeong's mess closed under Nangong Jincheon's name.
No grudge for Nangong Myeong, unscathed with extra sword. Even if some hidden resentment, he couldn't defy Nangong Jincheon to harm Dang Mujin.
"Don't assume it always goes smooth. One in ten will try eating you alive. And it ain't over."
"What's left?"
"The most important part."
"Important?"
"Debts go both ways. They'll come settle. Speak of the tiger..."
As Yi Chung finished, footsteps approached outside the door.