Chapter 277
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 277
Chapter Title: Has Shaolin Come?
It's a day where the long daylight makes the whole day feel endless.
However, the people of Wuchang felt something entirely different.
A stifling sensation, as if someone were watching their every move.
It was all because of the Shaolin monks prowling every corner of Wuchang.
They were meticulously scanning the city's residents using a single eye technique.
The Seventy-Two Supreme Arts housed in Shaolin Temple's Scripture Pavilion.
This was one of them.
Prajna Bori Heart Eye.
An eye technique that uncovers all things foul with the Buddha's boundless compassion.
Foul things, meaning demonic arts, blood arts, and evil arts.
At some point, it had become an essential skill that every Shaolin martial monk had to master.
And so, every Shaolin monk who had entered Wuchang today was proficient in it.
They swept through the city with Prajna Bori Heart Eye active, leaving no stone unturned.
Traces of evil arts could be faintly detected even from the ruffians in the back alleys and the petty thugs on the streets.
But the amounts were so negligible they could be dismissed.
Shaolin knew well that purging every last one of them would leave no one standing in the jianghu.
After combing through Wuchang all day long, the monks returned to the relay station and exchanged glances, shaking their heads.
They hadn't found their target.
"Hmmm..."
Yeon Jin let out a low groan.
This couldn't be right.
Their intelligence was reliable, and according to it, that vicious unorthodox fiend was definitely supposed to be in Wuchang.
Someone steeped in that much evil arts couldn't possibly evade the Prajna Bori Heart Eye...
"Martial Uncle. Could it be that the Dragon Training Pavilion Lord..."
One of the Shaolin monks ventured cautiously, his eyes filled with suspicion.
They hadn't entered the Dragon Training Pavilion today, after all.
A few others nodded in agreement.
But Yeon Jin shook his head.
"Not today. It's the day of the Dragon Training Pavilion's Summer Combat Festival. Pavilion Lord Pang is likely overseeing the event. He wouldn't be hiding a fiend for no reason."
"What if that fiend caught on and is hiding deep in some slum? We haven't thoroughly checked those areas yet."
Gong Ji-deok, the master of the relay station, suggested carefully.
"Let's check again properly tomorrow."
Yeon Jin nodded.
At that moment.
Hae Pyeong-so was hiding in a small grove outside Wuchang.
It was a full half-day's journey from the city.
Only after retreating this far did his instincts finally stop screaming warnings.
"Tch. What the hell is going on in Wuchang..."
Hae Pyeong-so muttered resentfully.
In the distance, the sunset glow painted Wuchang in hazy hues.
There didn't seem to be any major incident unfolding in the city.
It chafed that he had to camp out here overnight.
But his faith in his gut feelings was unshakable.
He rummaged through his travel pack, pulled out some hardtack, and chewed on it.
"About three days' worth?"
He gauged the amount of rations and water he had left.
If they ran out, he'd have to resupply from a nearby village and return.
He still hadn't met Ha Mu-baek.
Darkness had already fallen over Wuchang.
Thunderclap Beggar stared at the relay station before him.
Darim Relay Station.
He knew it was run by a Shaolin lay disciple.
Just as the Beggars' Clan scattered beggars across the land.
Shaolin had placed lay disciples in key spots everywhere too.
The only difference was the sheer overwhelming number of Beggars' Clan members.
In Wuchang, the Darim Relay Station was the sole outpost connected to Shaolin's lay network.
He had already received reports of Shaolin monks turning the city upside down.
His eyes clearly showed his dilemma over what to do.
Their intelligence had definitely leaked somewhere midway...
But he couldn't pinpoint where.
He had only reported it to headquarters.
Thunderclap Beggar couldn't have imagined.
The truth—that the information hadn't leaked at all.
How could he know it was the Hubei Yeon Clan's scheme, funneled through a Shanxi sub-branch to Shaolin lay disciples?
Thunderclap Beggar laid out a mat of straw, sat facing the relay station, and took a swig of liquor.
"Heh heh. Your relay station's got a hole in it now. Amitabha."
Yeon Jin emerged from the station, clasped his hands toward Thunderclap Beggar, and bowed.
Thunderclap Beggar, who had been frowning at him, gave a slight nod.
"You've gotten on in years yourself, Yeon Jin."
"It's a relief to see Elder still so hale and hearty."
Kaifeng, home to Beggars' Clan headquarters, and Dengfeng near Shaolin Temple weren't all that far.
They had naturally crossed paths many times, building familiarity.
Especially someone of Thunderclap Beggar's renown.
"Did that bald monk Hyeon Gwang send you?"
"Yes. On orders from the Abbot Martial Uncle."
Thunderclap Beggar's eyes sharpened.
"Heh heh. We're just checking on our lay disciples."
"Is that why you've turned Wuchang upside down? Must be a ton of lay disciples here."
"Amitabha."
Yeon Jin quietly chanted his Buddhist invocation.
"Even with me in Wuchang, you don't trust it?"
"How could we harbor such thoughts with Thunderclap Beggar Elder here? Shaolin is merely attending to Shaolin affairs."
Yeon Jin replied with a faint smile.
Thunderclap Beggar wanted to smack that brazen face.
"What affairs exactly?"
"We must extend Buddha's mercy to those foul unorthodox scum disrupting the world. Amitabha."
That damn Amitabha of his.
Every time he chanted it, Thunderclap Beggar itched to punch him in the mouth.
Playing dumb to the end.
Even knowing they'd gotten wind of Beggars' Clan intel and come to Wuchang.
"Fine."
There was no evidence, no justification.
So Thunderclap Beggar had no choice but to turn away.
But.
He halted abruptly.
"Cut the nonsense and leave. Looks like you found nothing anyway. If you blunder around rummaging through Wuchang and bump into that guy... it'll be a headache."
Then he resumed walking.
That guy.
Yeon Jin knew exactly who he meant.
The monster who probably wasn't even in Wuchang today.
"Amitabha."
All he did was murmur the invocation softly.
The area around Mokran Mountain was abuzz.
Once from the shocking news that Fierce Dragon Corps had won.
Twice from the bets between Wa Dragon Corps Squad One and Squad Twenty.
It was enough to stir up quite the commotion.
And that wasn't all.
Endless stories poured out from everyone's personal experiences.
With the Summer Combat Festival over, all that remained was the return trip.
Right after returning, the pavilion's break period would begin.
The first half of the Dragon Training Pavilion's term had ended.
The issue was.
The celebratory feast for Wa Dragon Corps Squads One and Twenty, plus Fierce Dragon Corps Squad Nine.
They had been on the move all night around Mokran Mountain.
In truth, only Wa Dragon Corps Squad One had gone all night; Squad Twenty and the feast-goers had gotten some rest.
Still, with things wrapping up only at dawn, it was impossible for them to head out right away.
In the end, they decided on a one-day rest.
And those staying behind with them were.
"Uh, so you're saying tomorrow?"
Dang Jin-san asked.
"You lot go ahead if you want. With Instructor Han."
Ha Mu-baek replied curtly.
He had volunteered to look after those remaining.
When Ha Mu-baek conveyed his intent, Pavilion Lord Pang Do-yul had smiled enigmatically and said he understood.
Ha Mu-baek assumed it was because of the headache from the Sa Hwa-ryeon guests.
Half right.
As for the connection to Sa Hwa-ryeon.
But Pavilion Lord Pang Do-yul was unaware of the feast.
"I'm heading out tomorrow too? Time to take it easy now."
With Han Seol-bing's words, Fierce Dragon Corps Squad Seven's departure was set for tomorrow as well.
In the meantime, the others had finished packing and begun to move out slowly.
The vanguard departed first, followed by the rest forming lines toward Wuchang.
Pavilion Lord Pang Do-yul brought up the rear.
To catch any stragglers, just in case.
A single crow swooped down from the sky toward Pavilion Lord Pang Do-yul.
A message tube was tied to its ankle.
He pulled dried meat from his bosom, fed the crow, and unrolled the message.
Immediately, his face twisted in a frown.
Then he sought out Ha Mu-baek and Han Seol-bing at once.
"What is it?"
Ha Mu-baek, who had been apart from the departing group, asked the suddenly approaching Pavilion Lord Pang Do-yul.
"More guests."
Ha Mu-baek frowned too.
His expression said it all.
Don't say another word.
"Shaolin stopped by Wuchang, so I need to hurry back. Instructor Han, can you handle the rear?"
Han Seol-bing made a helpless face.
"No rest for me, huh."
She shrugged, mounting the remaining horse.
Her gaze turned to Fierce Dragon Corps Squads Seven and Twenty.
"What about you?"
"Tomorrow."
Han Seol-bing nodded at Dang Jin-san's reply.
"Alright, I'm counting on you."
Pavilion Lord Pang Do-yul left those words and spurred his horse.
Neigh!
The horse cried out and bolted across the ground.
And so, everyone departed.
"Rest easy today. We leave at dawn tomorrow."
Ha Mu-baek said that and headed to a suitable tree for shade.
Their tents remained set up.
They had to pack and take the gear themselves tomorrow.
'Shaolin has come?'
Ha Mu-baek looked up at the sky, his face hardening.
He'd figured things would get annoying if that monk Hyeon Gwang found out.
But Shaolin really had come.
What did they know to come here?
Was it because of the Sa Hwa-ryeon guests? Or that headache of a immature girl?
The former seemed more likely.
Then why had the Sa Hwa-ryeon guests sought him out?
Ha Mu-baek's relations with the unorthodox sects weren't bad.
The ones he truly hated were the Demonic Cult and Blood Cult—not the unorthodox.
It came from experience.
Ten years old.
When Ha Seol-ran was just six months old.
The village where he was born and raised vanished.
By the hands of the Blood Cult and Demonic Cult.
A ten-year-old struggling just to survive had been cast into the world, responsible even for his infant sister.
He met his master at thirteen.
For roughly three years, he wandered the land with his sister in his arms.
The Blood Cult and Demonic Cult were rampant, turning the world into a battlefield.
In such chaos, it was impossible for a ten-year-old boy with a baby to survive.
But he got lucky.
He met good people, and bad ones too.
Day by day, he gritted his teeth and pushed through to see the next dawn, and the one after.
He still remembered it vividly.
Orthodox warriors had tried to sell him and Seol-ran.
Absurdly, it was an unorthodox warrior who saved young Ha Mu-baek.
But that warrior died months later.
At the hands of another unorthodox fighter.
And the orthodox warrior who then saved Ha Mu-baek and Ha Seol-ran from peril again.
Until he met his master.
He encountered many people.
To Ha Mu-baek, there were no orthodox or unorthodox among them.
Just people.
Not righteous because they were orthodox, nor evil because unorthodox.
Righteous people were righteous, evil ones evil.
That was why Ha Mu-baek held no prejudice against the unorthodox.
His experiences had taught him that.
The only ones Ha Mu-baek hated on sight were the Blood Cult and Demonic Cult.
So even during the last war, his ties with Sa Hwa-ryeon weren't particularly bad.
Not good, either.
At least Sa Hwa-ryeon knew he didn't view them as enemies.
That's why they'd sent someone to him.
The reason was probably.
'To ask for help.'
Otherwise, Sa Hwa-ryeon had no reason to seek him out.
And the only thing Sa Hwa-ryeon would ask Ha Mu-baek for help with was.
Ha Mu-baek tilted his head back, glancing at the lone figure in the tent.
'That one.'
In the end, circling back, the cause was the latter.
That headache of an immature girl.
Sa Hwa-ryeon must have sent someone because they couldn't find her with their own power.
And Shaolin seemed to have caught wind of the movement.
Otherwise, why would Shaolin come to Wuchang?
Pavilion Lord Pang Do-yul must have realized it too, rushing back so urgently.
'No peaceful days.'
A surge of irritation hit him.
Irritation aside.
He still had things to do.
He really wanted some rest now.
He'd planned to loaf around drilling Fierce Dragon Corps kids.
For now, he needed those Shaolin monks to leave quietly.
Ha Mu-baek rose to his feet.
And sought out Gong Ya-hwi-yeon.
"Let's talk."
He called to her in front of her solitary tent.
"Yes. Come in."
Ha Mu-baek entered the tent.
And set up a barrier of qi.
Gong Ya-hwi-yeon looked up at him with sparkling eyes.
Full of expectation that he might praise her Summer Combat Festival achievements.
"The Seven-Colored Seal Bracelet?"
But his flat, emotionless voice shattered her hopes.
"Uh, uh. Right here..."
She pulled a pair of bracelets from her packed gear.
Dull, lackluster bracelets.
They looked like cheap junk with no value.
"Put them on."
"Pardon?"
"Seal your internal energy."
At Ha Mu-baek's words, she immediately clasped the Seven-Colored Seal Bracelets on both wrists.
In that instant.
The bracelets shimmered beautifully in seven subtle colors.
They absorbed the wearer's internal energy, transforming like this.
The price: a complete seal on their internal energy.
"But why now...?"
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