Off to Shaolin (2)
After getting permission from Father, the group had finished their preparations and were waiting for me. But their luggage...
I stared at Mujikja, who was shouldering an enormous bundle, and asked, “You moving somewhere?”
Mujikja looked thrilled as he replied, “It's been ages since I last roamed the jianghu. This is exciting! Heh heh heh heh.”
The old man was already too far gone. There was no stopping him now. If he got excited twice more, he'd pack up the entire Cheonryongjeon and haul it away.
I turned my gaze to Ilseon Dosa. The monk grandpa was busily gathering things handed out by the Daegalbak guys.
“What are you doing right now?”
“Everyone's worried, so they're giving me this and that. Just wait a bit. It'll all come in handy later.”
“Haa...”
Why were they all like this...? As I sighed, Namgung Je-cheon approached.
He too had a massive bundle strapped to his back. I hadn't peeked inside, but the aroma wafting out told me everything.
“You got some chronic illness or something? Why pack so many meds?”
“Hey now! Youngest Young Master, don't jinx me. Do you know how many tonics I take daily?”
“How many?”
“Over ten, easy!”
Ah... yeah, live long and prosper.
Watching them, I thought, 'Should I just sneak off alone?'
* * *
On the roof of the Family Head's Quarters.
Namgung Hancheol and Namgung Ilro watched the four travelers exiting through Namgung Family Estate's main gate.
“Worried about the youngest young master?”
Namgung Ilro asked Namgung Hancheol. He'd rushed to the Family Head's Quarters the moment Ihyang handed him the letter. Final approval from the family head was required to leave Namgung Family Estate.
But he realized he'd arrived too late.
“Worried? Aren't you the one worried, military strategist?”
“Heh heh, it's only natural to fret over one's sole disciple. Especially if he's a handful.”
It might not be fitting talk for Namgung Family Estate's vice strategist, but Namgung Je-cheon was infamous as a troublemaker within the estate...
Not wrong, really.
“That madman's got me worried too. How's he even still alive?”
'Haha...'
Namgung Ilro gave a wry smile in agreement. How did someone of vice strategist rank earn such a reputation in the estate...?
“Then why's the family head up here watching the youngest young master?”
Namgung Hancheol had never shown such behavior before, so Namgung Ilro was curious. Though treated like a has-been, he was still Namgung Family Estate's strategist—and perhaps the biggest wildcard in the jianghu. Keeping tabs on potential changes from past to present to near future was crucial. The most important events might hinge on it.
'He's stayed put in the Family Head's Quarters until now, but...'
Namgung Ilro had one true worry.
The hidden Ma-gyo surging out to upend the jianghu? The crushed Sapa plotting a reversal of heaven? The imperial palace crying for martial world extermination? Or even a new emperor?
All trivial.
'The family head leaving the Family Head's Quarters.'
No one could predict what the world would face then.
Namgung Ilro prayed toward Namgung Daeso's retreating back. 'Please come back safe without causing a huge mess.'
The family head's behavior surely involved the youngest young master. And to his unreliable but most beloved disciple, he added, 'Je-cheon! No incidents—stay put!'
Then Namgung Hancheol spoke. “Just... wondering if it'll happen again this time, so I came to see.”
“Happen again? Who, what?”
Namgung Hancheol's worry differed slightly from Namgung Ilro's. Curiosity was more accurate.
'The kid's a pro at picking up strays...'
Fear and hope that he'd bring back something ridiculous again. They were headed to Sorimsa, right? Surely not something absurd.
* * *
Sorimsa.
The temple perched midway up Lesser Room Peak on Song Mountain in Dengfeng County, Henan Province.
Its fame, born from Damo, had birthed countless figures over a millennium.
People of Henan naturally felt attached.
And now, Namgung Daeso's group had just set foot in Henan Province.
A feat in five days from Namgung Family Estate.
“No way, huff huff! Are we tigers or what?!”
Namgung Je-cheon was bent over, gasping, drool pooling on the ground. Luckily, it mixed with his sweat, indistinguishable.
The moment we left Namgung Family Estate, I unrolled the map and drew the shortest path from Hebi to Henan.
Then told the group, “From now on, we get to Henan as fast as possible.”
Objections followed, naturally.
“Just take a merchant caravan to Henan.”
I shot a blatantly annoyed look at Namgung Je-cheon. “Nah, pass.”
Dragging our feet wouldn't help, and sneaking promised benefits.
I'd considered caravans—comfortable, decent speed, quick arrival.
But... 'Better keep our exit from Namgung Family Estate under wraps for now.'
Only Cheonryongjeon folk, second brother, Father, the strategist, and Ihyang noona knew. Rumors of the youngest young master heading to Sorimsa could invite trouble upon return.
After that, we crossed mountains, forded rivers, dashed across plains.
Hence our current state.
Namgung Je-cheon drooling worst, but others fared little better. Disheveled hair with twigs, torn clothes, holed shoes. Faces crusted with dried sweat, bodies reeking.
Passersby scowled at us. With a beggar among us, it spoke volumes.
Without Namgung Family Estate affiliate badges, Henan gates would've barred us.
Truthfully, I was exhausted too. How many times had I wanted to quit? Inner energy depleted by day three; after, pure muscle and grit.
Without the monk grandpa and nosy grandpa's qi infusions, or Namgung Je-cheon's emergency Hwandan...
Impossible.
But we made it. Sans Namgung Je-cheon's marbles.
Henan at last. My first visit, pre- and post-regression.
Before Namgung Family Estate's rise, the jianghu's top landmark. Even far from Sorimsa, martial artists dotted the paths—unlike sparse ones in Hebi.
Probably 'cause they'd get thrashed if they showed.
“Young master! Done gawking? Let's find a place to crash! I'll die like this!”
Namgung Je-cheon flopped flat, unable to stand.
“Tsk tsk, shoulda trained more.”
“Me, I!! I'm a brainy strategist! Not some dumb musclehead martial artist! It's your fault for making a frail guy like me follow this schedule!”
“Then why'd you come?”
Already drawing eyes, now grown men bickering loudly pulled crowds.
Undermining our stealth.
“Get up.”
“Can't move a step!”
Fine?
“Gonna wash in hot water at an inn, eat real food for once?”
Namgung Je-cheon sprang up, even taking point.
“Let's hurry. I know a great inn in Henan.”
Whack! Whack!
Amused, Ilseon Dosa and Mujikja each smacked Je-cheon's daegari.
He whipped around, eyes bulging. “Argh, damn it! Quit hitting my head! What if it dings my brain? You old farts taking responsibility?!”
“Tsk tsk, you got a brain to ding? If you'd trained instead of slacking, no sweat!”
Ilseon Dosa pitied Namgung Je-cheon's wasted talent.
“Such genius, such a waste... World's gone mad.”
Mujikja sighed too.
There was a reason for Namgung Je-cheon's gifts. Though he skipped formal training, he had the jianghu's deepest stomach, by my knowledge.
His once-bulging bundle was now slim. Devouring ten-man portions of elixirs—who wouldn't thrive?
I popped the last Yeongsaengdan and said, “Move it! Rumors'll spread. Grandpas, quit teasing the lunatic.”
“Hey, youngest young master, watch your mouth! Folks'll think I started it.”
The meddler nagging from sidelines irks more than the hitter.
“What? Pissed? Head straight to Sorimsa then.”
“Follow me. Youngest young master, stay behind me. Can't trust these damn fossils anymore!”
“Ditching him midway.”
“Wasted my qi dragging you, now you want the bundle? Heh, kids these days—no manners.”
“This is why I hate martial artists! Right, youngest young master?!”
Uh... weren't I a martial artist now?
* * *
Namgung Je-cheon's inn was bigger than expected.
“We can go in there? Looks pricey.”
I asked cautiously. Even unflappable Ilseon Dosa and Mujikja shrank quietly this time.
Namgung Je-cheon strutted toward it proudly. “Once gripped the jianghu in my fist, didn't I? No worries. This is Namgung Family Estate turf.”
“Ooh, really? But we got low-rank warrior badges.”
Over twenty stories tall. Artisanal carvings outside. Patrons looked big shots, all with maids or servants.
A stern-faced guard at the door.
Low-rank Namgung Family Estate badges weren't bad—just maybe needed high-rank for entry.
Namgung Je-cheon boldly entered the “Deungyok Inn” sign.
Guard blocked him; he flashed the badge confidently.
Guard's face crumpled. “A low-rank peon daring into Namgung Family Estate's third-best branch, managed by the great vice strategist himself? Fresh from training hall, by the looks—yellow-bellied. Tsk tsk, scram. Letting it slide this once. Mention Namgung again, no mercy.”
“Kikikikiki.”
“Kekekekeke.”
“Grrrruk.”
Ah... shouldn't laugh, but...
Confidence shattered, Namgung Je-cheon slunk back, spitting, “When I get back, I'll reform it so even low-ranks can use branches nationwide!”
Abuse of power?
I pointed to a shabby inn nearby. “Sure, sure. Do whatever, Je-cheon. Rest there tonight.”
He looked up at me. Ominous.
“Young master~~”
Suddenly, he lunged, bawling. First time out without “vice strategist” title—must be tough.
I get it.
But look at yourself!
'Ah, shit! Snot.'
Instinctively, I swung.
Thwack!
'Uh... sorry, Je-cheon. Not on purpose. You know how I am, right?'