Dang Mujin stood in front of Sam Anbul’s house, lost in thought.
“Life…”
He had nearly been killed by Sam Anbul, and countless warriors from the Jeomchang Sect had perished at his hands. Namgung Myeong had lost an arm. Yet here he was, seeking Sam Anbul’s help, because there was no one else he could trust.
Reflecting on it, his other relationships weren’t all that different. His ties with Namgung Myeong and Choo Sam had started off as hostile, and when he first met Dan Seol-young, she had cursed at him. The only person he had a decent first impression of was Hong Geolgae.
“Or was it really decent?”
No one knows how relationships or life will unfold. Similarly, there’s no way to predict how they will end.
As Dang Mujin’s thoughts lingered, Sam Anbul’s voice called out from inside.
“Why are you hesitating out there? Come in.”
Without further delay, Dang Mujin entered. The interior was somewhat unfamiliar. It was adorned with Mani Sect altars and paintings, which was expected, but there were also two Buddhist scrolls that seemed out of place.
“Didn’t he despise the Shaolin Temple?”
As Dang Mujin stared at the scrolls, Sam Anbul, who was sitting cross-legged, asked, “What’s the matter?”
“I didn’t expect to see Buddhist paintings here.”
“I picked them up while wandering around the Central Plains. They caught my eye.”
“I heard you turned your back on the Shaolin Temple.”
“Turning your back on something isn’t easy, especially if you’ve been part of it for decades. There was a time when just hearing the word ‘Buddha’ made me angry, but those feelings have faded. Now, those scrolls bring me peace.”
“I see.”
“So, what brings you here?”
Sam Anbul uncrossed his legs, and Dang Mujin approached him.
Dang Mujin recounted the recent events: the encounter with the man in the straw hat, the poison wine supposedly made by the Demonic Sect, the scene of feeding the crows, and the strange scroll found on the man.
He subtly emphasized his ability to subdue a top martial artist alone, but Sam Anbul showed little interest in that detail.
When Dang Mujin concluded that the Grand Protector was suspicious, Sam Anbul seemed unimpressed.
“Your suspicion of the Grand Protector is based on flimsy evidence. Just because he told you not to overextend yourself? He’d be hurt to hear that.”
Dang Mujin felt a bit embarrassed, and Sam Anbul offered some advice.
“Assigning meaning to every word and doubting others’ intentions can lead to uncontrollable outcomes. Be cautious.”
“But the man with the straw hat reappeared with the lost poison wine.”
“There could be more than one poison wine. If you’re going to suspect someone for that reason, you should start with the Grand Protector’s subordinate who saved you. Besides, I’ve known the Grand Protector for decades. He’s not the type to scheme behind the scenes.”
Even the most certain conclusions can seem flawed when viewed from another’s perspective. Seeing Dang Mujin’s reluctant agreement, Sam Anbul continued.
“Moreover, if the Grand Protector were involved, he would have sent his own subordinates into the cult leader’s quarters, not the cult leader’s.”
“The cult leader’s subordinates?”
“Yes. The one who entered the cult leader’s quarters with the poison wine. I don’t remember his name, but I recall his surname was Wang. He’s one of the cult leader’s men.”
Dang Mujin scratched his head. Was it an order from the cult leader to infiltrate the quarters?
If that were true, it wouldn’t even be considered an infiltration.
Then why did the cult leader keep the crows in the quarters? There was no clear answer.
Sam Anbul asked, “Anyway, can you show me the scroll you brought?”
“Of course.”
Dang Mujin unfurled the scroll for Sam Anbul, who examined it closely.
Unlike Dang Mujin, Sam Anbul seemed to understand some of its contents.
“Can you read it?”
“A little.”
“What language is it?”
“It’s one of the scripts from the Western Regions, used in a place called Anxi.”
“What does it say?”
“I’m not entirely sure. I can only recognize a few words. But given the frequent mentions of the human body and movement, it might be a martial arts manual.”
A martial arts manual from the Western Regions? Dang Mujin’s interest was piqued.
Like many others, Dang Mujin was fascinated by the Western Regions, though he knew little about them. And a martial arts manual from there?
“Do people in the Western Regions practice martial arts too?”
“Yes. Some legendary martial arts are said to have originated from the Pasa region in the West. But there are too many exaggerated tales. Stories of unlocking one’s full potential or freely altering the direction of force. They’re all quite unbelievable.”
While it might seem far-fetched, it also suggested that the scroll could contain extraordinary martial arts secrets.
Seeing the greed in Dang Mujin’s eyes, Sam Anbul chuckled.
“Don’t get your hopes up about this scroll. It’s too short to be a complete martial arts manual. Even if it contains martial arts, it’s likely just a fragment. Trying to learn from it could lead to disaster.”
“But isn’t it significant that it was copied from the cult leader’s quarters? Doesn’t that imply the complete martial arts are there?”
Sam Anbul’s expression turned serious as he grasped the situation.
“That could be true. But the cult leader isn’t interested in martial arts.”
“Could it be that someone else is trying to exploit a weakness to steal martial arts from the cult leader’s quarters? I don’t understand why the cult leader’s subordinate would be involved, though.”
Sam Anbul closed his eyes. That explanation made sense.
However, there was no way to determine who might be behind such a plan. Not because there were no suspects, but because there were too many.
The first suspects that came to mind were the top martial artists of the Martial Sect, like Gwang Yeom-ra or the Ghost King.
If not limited to the Martial Sect, as Dang Mujin suggested, the Grand Protector was a possibility. Similarly, the Left and Right Protectors could be considered.
Including those below the top level, the list grew even longer. The most suspicious was Wang Ga, who had died at Dang Mujin’s hands. Many would covet unknown martial arts. Most who joined the Demonic Sect had learned martial arts.
After pondering for a while, Sam Anbul looked up.
“That could be the case. In any event, we need to investigate further. Would you like me to keep the scroll, or would you prefer to take it back?”
Sam Anbul offered the scroll to Dang Mujin, who realized that coming to Sam Anbul had been the right decision.
“No, it’s too valuable for me to keep.”
Knowing his limitations, Dang Mujin didn’t reach for it. If he took the scroll and got entangled in trouble, he’d be the first to die.
His life was more important than an uncertain fragment of martial arts.
“Understood. You’ve worked hard, so take some rest.”
“Rest? There’s still so much to do.”
When Dang Mujin habitually declined, Sam Anbul gave him a stern look.
“Don’t overdo it. If you dawdle and miss the right moment, you’ll lose your chance.”
“What moment are you referring to?”
“The festival is winding down. Once it’s over, the Mani Sect will return to a life of restraint and simplicity, as per their teachings. There’s no better time to rest than now.”
“Isn’t the Demonic Sect always lively and festive?”
“No. The atmosphere starts to build as winter deepens, peaks during the festival, and then calms down. They lead a quiet life until the end of the following autumn. If you miss this chance, you won’t be able to enjoy yourself even if you want to.”
“Understood.”
With a lighter heart, Dang Mujin left Sam Anbul’s residence.
When Dang Mujin entered the Poisonous Blood Hall, it was empty.
But soon, Mok Wana appeared, having sensed his presence. Her face was full of expectation. It was clear what she was hoping for.
However, contrary to her expectations, Dang Mujin hadn’t brought any snacks. All he had was four gourds of wine. He planned to drink and fall asleep early.
”…”
Mok Wana looked at him with a deeply dissatisfied expression. Her eyes clearly asked if he couldn’t go fetch some sweet treats.
But Dang Mujin wasn’t easily swayed.
“What? What is it?”
“Didn’t you forget something?”
“Nope. Nothing.”
Mok Wana watched him sip his wine, hoping that in a good mood, he might go out and buy something. She pondered ways to persuade him.
But her thoughts were cut short when Dang Mujin suddenly fell silent and then collapsed into sleep.
He had been extremely busy lately, and today had been particularly hectic, leaving him exhausted. With the added effect of the alcohol, he couldn’t stay awake for long.
Mok Wana circled him with a disgruntled look, eventually sighing and pulling out a box of Bigeokdan.
Perhaps because her expectations had been high, today’s Bigeokdan tasted even worse than usual. To make matters worse, it seemed to contain more pine pollen than usual, making it much drier and harder to swallow.
Then, something caught Mok Wana’s eye. The leftover wine Dang Mujin hadn’t finished. At least three gourds’ worth remained.
Mok Wana reminisced about the taste of the wine Tang Mujin had brought last time. It wasn’t exactly a gourmet experience, but the aroma was pleasant, and the subtle tartness wasn’t bad either.
Casually, Mok Wana reached for a bottle of wine Tang Mujin had brought and took a sip. Her eyes widened in surprise. Unlike the previous wine, this one was much sweeter.
“Not bad,” she thought.
Using the wine as an excuse, Mok Wana indulged herself, sipping alone with some snacks.
Alcohol could help her fall asleep easily, but it made waking up at a consistent time unpredictable. Sometimes she’d sleep deeply and wake up late, other times she’d rise much earlier than usual. Tang Mujin felt it was the latter this time. It didn’t seem like she’d slept long. Though she couldn’t see outside, she was sure the night wasn’t over yet.
Deciding she needed more rest, Tang Mujin turned over, only to feel a piercing gaze on her. She opened her eyes slightly and found Mok Wana’s face right in front of her, the strong smell of alcohol hitting her at the same time. Startled, Tang Mujin sat up quickly.
“What the—! You scared me!”
Mok Wana, her speech slightly slurred from the alcohol, retorted, “You jerk! I thought you’d bring some sweets! Do you know how much I was looking forward to it?”
Tang Mujin wasn’t about to back down. “If you want something, you should get it yourself. Do I look like your errand boy?”
Mok Wana was momentarily speechless. She knew her demand was unreasonable. But logic and emotion are separate realms. Her disappointment over unmet expectations mingled with her feelings of betrayal, and the alcohol only stirred her emotions further. Tears welled up in her eyes.
Suddenly, Mok Wana stood up and declared, “I’ll go get it myself! Even if it kills me, I’ll get it!”
Her fear of the outside world was exaggerated, making her perceive the dangers beyond the cave as far greater than they were. Mok Wana opened the cave door and staggered outside.
Tang Mujin lay back down, indifferent. She figured Mok Wana was all talk and wouldn’t actually leave. But Mok Wana didn’t return quickly.
“Damn it,” Tang Mujin muttered.
Once awake, and with something to worry about, sleep was elusive. Tang Mujin got up.
There was no sign of Mok Wana on the path leading from the cave to the outside.
“Did she really go out?”
Tang Mujin stepped outside. It was dark, the tail end of night, just before dawn. She spotted Mok Wana standing a short distance from the cave, barely ten paces away. But Mok Wana seemed rooted to the spot, unable to venture further.
Sometimes, failing on the first attempt makes a second try seem impossible. For Mok Wana, leaving the cave was such a challenge.
Everyone faces a turning point eventually. It could be a monumental one like those of historical heroes, or a small one like Mok Wana’s now.
Mok Wana took a deep breath and closed her eyes tightly. Yet, she hesitated, unable to move forward.
Tang Mujin watched her from a distance before approaching. “How long has it been since you came out this far?”
“About five years, I think. Last time I tried to see the outside, I got beaten up.”
Tang Mujin could guess who had done it. She sighed deeply and stood in front of Mok Wana. “Let’s go.”
She took a few steps forward, but Mok Wana still didn’t follow.
“We have to go today. The festival’s almost over.”
“That’s the problem. It might be better to come out when there are fewer people.”
As Mok Wana turned to retreat, Tang Mujin stopped her. “There won’t be many people. Tomorrow’s the last day, so they’ll rest early today to party all night tomorrow.”
“But—”
“If you want to eat your fill of sweets, today’s your only chance. Tomorrow will be too late.”
Tang Mujin moved closer, then turned back around. “We’re not going far. Just keep your head down and follow my footsteps.”
Tang Mujin took a slow step forward. Mok Wana matched her pace, taking a step as well.
“Don’t worry. We won’t go where there are too many people. We’ll just watch from a distance.”
Maybe that would be okay. Mok Wana lifted her head to gaze at the star-filled night sky. It was a spring dawn, with stars so bright they seemed ready to fall. Her expression turned dreamy. Reality blurred, fear faded. She had someone to guide her.
Tang Mujin chuckled at the sight. “Stay huddled up. Don’t let the cold wind sober you up.”
Following Tang Mujin’s advice, Mok Wana hunched her shoulders, holding onto the delightful dizziness the wine provided. Her heart raced. She savored the tingling in her fingertips and toes, and the distant sound of crickets.
“Let’s take it slow.”
“Okay.”
With her head down, Mok Wana focused on Tang Mujin’s heels, taking one step at a time.
“Like this, I feel like I could go anywhere,” she thought.
In the early dawn, as Tang Mujin and Mok Wana wandered the village outskirts, Sam Anbul sensed someone approaching his house.
At first, he thought it might be Tang Mujin, but soon realized who it was.
“Come in.”
The visitor was the Great Protector, who entered with a troubled expression and bowed respectfully to Sam Anbul.
“Sorry to disturb you at this hour.”
Though the Great Protector might be a higher rank, he showed deference to Sam Anbul, a sign of respect for his seniority.
“What brings you here?”
“Have you seen Young Master Tang?”
“I saw him earlier. Why?”
“I wanted to ask him about the bird, but his house was empty.”
“Then you should have checked the cave.”
“He wasn’t there either.”
Sam Anbul half-closed his eyes, observing the Great Protector. He noticed the Great Protector’s gaze linger on a scroll on the table.
Sam Anbul took a slow, deep breath. With just one breath, his presence seemed to grow, filling the room with an overwhelming aura.
In a low voice, Sam Anbul asked, “Great Protector, are you still curious about where Young Master Tang is?”
The Great Protector replied with a gentle smile, “No, I’m not.”
Sam Anbul swung a massive fist at the Great Protector.