Episode 116: The Jeomchang Sect
The financial troubles of the Jeomchang Sect were unfortunate, but from a practical standpoint, they weren’t Tang Mujin’s concern. Despite their lack of funds, the swords of Jeomchang remained swift and sharp, ensuring the safety of Tang Mujin and his companions within the walls of the Yu family estate.
However, Tang Mujin couldn’t be content with mere safety. His goal was not just to escape the shadow of the Salmak, but to dismantle it entirely. He had no intention of sharing the sky with those who had murdered his kin.
The challenges were twofold: his current skills were insufficient to confront the Salmak, and gathering information about them was equally daunting.
While his skills would take time to develop, he could start collecting information immediately. Tang Mujin approached Yu Jinguang, the head of the Yu family, to inquire about any knowledge he might have regarding the Salmak.
It was a relatively safe move, as it was unlikely that a top master of Jeomchang would be involved with the Salmak.
“The Salmak? As far as I know, there’s no branch in Gujiang. Yunnan is also a region where their influence is weak. You might have better luck heading to a larger city, making contact with a Salmak branch, and working your way up from there.”
“That seems to be the only option, though it’s not something we can rush into.”
“If you have any connections with the Beggars’ Sect, it might be worth asking them. Few have as much information as they do.”
Tang Mujin’s only real connection in the Beggars’ Sect was Hong Geolge. But another name came to mind: Hongmyeon Nogae in Zhongjing. Perhaps Haryeong could use him to gather information from the Beggars’ Sect. The Hao Clan, with its many members, might also have someone in the know.
Tang Mujin decided to send a message to Zhongjing, slipping a considerable sum to a courier to ensure its delivery.
Some time later, a response arrived from Haryeong. The message was brief: they had no information at the moment but would start looking into it.
It made sense. For someone like Haryeong, the Salmak wouldn’t be a pressing concern. The Salmak wouldn’t dare target someone of his caliber.
As time passed, Tang Mujin and his companions grew accustomed to life at the Yu family estate.
The most notable progress was seen in Chusam. Under Tang Mujin’s guidance, Chusam’s medical skills improved significantly, reaching a level where he could competently serve as a physician. His lack of a mentor and insight had been a hindrance, but his efforts were finally bearing fruit.
Danselyeong spent her time crafting all sorts of curious gadgets. The martial artists of Jeomchang were more intrigued by Danselyeong herself, the only woman within the estate walls, than by her inventions.
Yet, none dared approach her, as the sweet tension between her and Tang Mujin was palpable even to the most oblivious.
Tang Mujin and Namgungmyeong trained tirelessly, sparring with each other and occasionally with the Jeomchang martial artists.
However, their progress was starkly different. Namgungmyeong’s skills improved daily, while Tang Mujin found himself stuck.
He was certain that his efforts were yielding results, but he had a strong sense that simple training wouldn’t break through the barrier to the pinnacle. The feeling of being stuck gnawed at him.
While sparring with Namgungmyeong, Tang Mujin threw down his wooden sword in frustration.
“Now I understand why they call it a barrier. I can’t get a feel for it.”
“Finally accepting the gap between us, are you?” Namgungmyeong teased.
“That’s not it. It’s just this feeling of being blocked.”
Namgungmyeong shrugged. “I know that feeling. I dealt with it for years.”
“Any advice for a future master?”
“For someone like you? In my case, it was about letting go of what was holding me back.”
“Holding you back?”
Namgungmyeong elaborated, “I thought I was ready to reach the pinnacle years ago, like a ripe flower about to burst. But I couldn’t break through until I realized what was binding me. Letting go of fear and regrets allowed me to advance.”
“Do I need to let go of something too?”
“Don’t overthink it. Everyone’s journey is different. Some advance by addressing their weaknesses, others by letting go of desires. Many break through for reasons they don’t even understand. Worrying won’t solve it. If you could easily find the answer, you wouldn’t be just another martial artist.”
The cryptic advice left Tang Mujin pondering. Instead of heading inside, he spent a long time under the moonlight, swinging his sword. Yet, no breakthrough came.
One night, Tang Mujin awoke with a strange intuition, a sensation he hadn’t felt during his stay at the Yu estate.
He sat up and glanced to the side. In the darkness, he saw Namgungmyeong also rising. It seemed he had sensed something too.
Without a word, the two stepped outside, scanning their surroundings. They caught sight of a figure in black slipping over the wall.
“Could it be the Salmak?” Tang Mujin wondered, quickly checking the next room. Thankfully, Danselyeong was sound asleep, with no signs of disturbance.
This could be their chance to catch the Salmak’s trail. Tang Mujin turned to Namgungmyeong. “Let’s follow.”
Namgungmyeong handed him a mask, and the two donned them, maintaining a safe distance as they tailed the figure.
The person in black seemed unaware of their pursuit, moving with a certain ease. This allowed Tang Mujin and Namgungmyeong to observe closely, noticing some peculiarities.
Unlike typical Salmak assassins, the figure carried no weapons, only a small pouch at their waist. Moreover, their movements and footwork were oddly familiar, reminiscent of the Jeomchang Sect’s techniques.
A chill ran through Tang Mujin. “Could the Salmak have infiltrated Jeomchang?”
“I don’t know. We can’t rule it out.”
The figure reached the outskirts of the village and entered a shabby inn without hesitation. Despite the late hour, light spilled from within.
Tang Mujin and Namgungmyeong pressed against the building. Though the windows were boarded up, their keen hearing picked up murmured conversations, clattering sounds, and low sighs from inside. It was hard to discern what was happening.
“I can’t make sense of it,” Tang Mujin admitted.
“Let’s wait a bit longer,” Namgungmyeong suggested.
After a while, the door swung open, and the figure emerged. Tang Mujin and Namgungmyeong waited until they were a safe distance away before springing into action.
“Stop right there!”
The figure, startled, reached for their waist but found no weapon. They attempted to fend off Tang Mujin and Namgungmyeong with impressive martial arts, but facing two armed opponents alone was a losing battle.
Just as Namgungmyeong was about to subdue them, the figure leaped back and spoke.
“Wait, are you Namgung and Tang?”
“Quick on the uptake, aren’t you? Let’s see the face behind that mask, Salmak scum.”
“What?”
The figure removed their mask, revealing a familiar face: Yu Jinguang, the head of the Yu family. Tang Mujin and Namgungmyeong were stunned.
“Is the Salmak trying to take over Jeomchang? This is madness.”
“Salmak? Are you insulting me?” Yu Jinguang shouted, his face flushed with anger, but Tang Mujin and Namgungmyeong were unconvinced.
“You’re sneaking around in black, entering a Salmak hideout. Don’t play dumb.”
“What? That inn has nothing to do with the Salmak. You’ve got it all wrong.”
“Trying to deny it after being caught red-handed?”
“Deny? Follow me if you don’t believe me.”
Yu Jinguang sighed, pulling his mask back on as he headed towards the inn.
The light still seeped from the inn, and the sounds inside seemed to have increased.
Yu Jinguang flung the door open. Tang Mujin and Namgungmyeong, ready for an ambush, gripped their sword hilts, but the scene inside was unexpected.
Masked and unmasked people sat around tables, engrossed in their activities, oblivious to the newcomers.
Tang Mujin peered closer. Some were rolling dice, others clutching small wooden tokens. It was a gambling den.
A man overseeing the room glanced at Yu Jinguang. “What are you doing back? Here for a cut?”
“No, just had some business to attend to.”
“Business? And why do those two have swords?”
“Don’t worry. It’s not what you think.”
Yoo Jin-gwang exchanged a few words with the men inside the gambling den before stepping back outside and closing the door behind him.
Though it was unclear why Yoo Jin-gwang frequented such places, one thing was certain: he wasn’t there for any sinister purpose. Tang Moo-jin removed his mask and spoke.
“I apologize for the misunderstanding. Given the circumstances, I had to be cautious.”
“I understand, but let’s avoid such misunderstandings in the future,” Yoo Jin-gwang replied, his voice tinged with irritation.
The three of them removed their masks and trudged towards the Yu family estate. The atmosphere was awkward, heavy with an unspoken tension.
To be precise, Tang Moo-jin and Namgoong Myung felt awkward, while Yoo Jin-gwang’s expression was notably somber. Initially, they thought he was upset due to the misunderstanding, but it seemed deeper than that—more melancholic than angry.
In an attempt to break the ice, Tang Moo-jin asked, “Why were you at the gambling den, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“For the future of the Jeomchang Sect,” Yoo Jin-gwang replied curtly, then fell silent.
Tang Moo-jin noticed the pouch at Yoo Jin-gwang’s waist fluttering lightly, suggesting he had lost money at the gambling table. It wasn’t hard to guess where the money came from—the earnings of the Yu family escort agency.
While Tang Moo-jin let it slide, Namgoong Myung was less forgiving. The idea of a leader squandering hard-earned money at a gambling den didn’t sit well with him.
“How does gambling secure the future of the Jeomchang Sect?” Namgoong Myung challenged, his tone unusually sharp. “I heard even the previous head, the illustrious Sword of Light, Yoo Gwan-il, suffered great losses from gambling. Don’t repeat such foolishness.”
Yoo Jin-gwang’s demeanor shifted instantly. He shed his dejected air and fixed Namgoong Myung with a fiery gaze.
“Don’t speak nonsense. My father was not wrong.”
“Your father?” Tang Moo-jin realized that both the former head, Yoo Gwan-il, and Yoo Jin-gwang shared the same surname. They were father and son.
“My father was a proud warrior of Jeomchang. He did his best, but the outcome was unfortunate.”
“And what does gambling have to do with being a proud warrior of Jeomchang?”
“That’s something you wouldn’t understand because you don’t know Jeomchang’s martial arts,” Yoo Jin-gwang retorted, pointing a finger at Namgoong Myung.
His movement was swift and unadorned, slicing through the air with precision.
“The essence of Jeomchang’s martial arts is directness and speed. To pour one’s entire being into a single strike without hesitation—that is the spirit of Jeomchang. Our martial arts have no room for tricks or embellishments.”
The warriors of Jeomchang, followers of the legendary archer Hou Yi, were known for two sword techniques: the Sun Piercing Sword, focused on rapid thrusts, and the Light Splitting Thirty-Six Swords, famed for their blinding speed. Both were celebrated for their purity, devoid of any superfluous moves.
Yoo Jin-gwang murmured with conviction, “My father may have met an unfortunate end, but I will succeed.”
“Isn’t there another way besides gambling?” Namgoong Myung pressed.
“Choosing another path means retreating, and retreating means defeat. But if you don’t retreat, you haven’t lost. My father didn’t lose, and I have a duty to prove his way.”
Yoo Jin-gwang’s eyes shone with a fervor that bordered on madness. It was the gaze of a warrior determined to uphold Jeomchang’s ideals, a son striving to restore his father’s honor, or perhaps just a gambler seeking justification.
Tang Moo-jin suddenly recalled rumors of the former head’s disappearance.
‘Didn’t the previous head already retreat?’ he thought. But he knew voicing this would make him an enemy of Yoo Jin-gwang, so he kept silent and listened to the exchange between Namgoong Myung and Yoo Jin-gwang.
“Does winning or losing matter? You’re gambling away money that others have sweated to earn. Aren’t you ashamed?”
“If it were a secret, perhaps. But everyone knows, and everyone agreed.”
Tang Moo-jin and Namgoong Myung were silently shocked as Yoo Jin-gwang continued.
“To cover Jeomchang’s needs with the escort agency’s income would take over fifty years. We’d be bound by these chains until we die of old age.”
“Hmm.”
“But if we pool our earnings for a month and win a few times, we can save Jeomchang from its crisis. It’s the most direct, the fastest path, and the path of a Jeomchang warrior unafraid of defeat.”
“But haven’t you been failing so far?” Namgoong Myung pointed out.
Yoo Jin-gwang smiled, undeterred, filled with hope. “Next time, I’ll win. I have a good feeling about it.”