Episode 170: Pyeongri Village

Dang Mujin and his companions arrived at a riverbank thick with reeds. The river, a tributary of the Yellow River, was so wide it seemed to defy the term “tributary,” stretching nearly a hundred yards across. Even with martial arts training, it wasn’t a distance one could simply leap over.

The four of them surveyed the area. The water flowed slowly, and the absence of waves suggested it was a place where ferries might operate, yet no boatman was in sight.

“Let’s wait a bit.”

“Alright.”

They weren’t in a hurry. It was rare for boatmen to make a living solely from ferrying people across the river.

For most, it was a side job. They would tend to their farms nearby and, when someone appeared wanting to cross, they would fetch their hidden boats from the reeds, ferry the passengers, and earn some money.

As they waited for a boatman to appear, Namgung Myung nudged Hong Geolgae.

“You’ve been training hard, haven’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Hong Geolgae had dedicated far more time to training than the others. He trained after breakfast, after lunch, and again after dinner.

Though his martial arts talent lagged behind the others, Hong Geolgae was undoubtedly the most earnest in his practice.

As a result, he had made significant progress, enough to potentially break through to the next level if given the right opportunity.

But that also meant he was still considered first-rate, not yet at the pinnacle.

Namgung Myung pointed to the floating duckweed on the water’s surface.

“We don’t know when the boatman will show up. Should we try crossing the river using the ‘Floating Step’ technique?”

The ‘Floating Step’ was a light-footed martial arts technique that allowed one to step on floating plants to cross water.

None of them, including Hong Geolgae, could perform such a feat.

So Hong Geolgae didn’t back down. He plucked a reed leaf and let it float on the water.

“I’ll follow slowly. You go ahead and wait on the other side.”

Crossing the river on a leaf was beyond their abilities. Perhaps someone like Namgung Jinchun could manage such a trick.

As Namgung Myung and Hong Geolgae playfully argued over who should go first, Dang Mujin imagined martial arts masters crossing the river on leaves.

He could easily picture someone small like Hwa Yeon-shin doing it, but the thought of a burly figure like Sam An-bul attempting the same was laughable.

Lost in thought, Hyun Gong suddenly stood up and looked to the side. A boat was approaching, likely returning after dropping off passengers.

When opportunity knocks, you must act.

Hyun Gong quickly ran over and called out to the boatman.

“Hey, boatman! Could you give us a ride?”

The boatman, seeing potential customers, eagerly rowed towards them.

However, upon noticing the weapons hanging from Hyun Gong and Dang Mujin’s waists, his expression turned serious.

After a moment of hesitation, he reluctantly brought the boat closer.

Dang Mujin spoke up.

“We need to cross the river. How much is the fare for four people?”

The boatman hesitated.

“Oh, there’s no need to pay. It’s an honor just to have martial artists like you on my boat…”

“What?”

Hong Geolgae shook his head.

“The perception of martial artists around here is pretty bad. Boatman, we’re from far south, and we’ll pay the fare. No need to worry.”

“Oh, it’s alright. No need for money…”

“How much do you usually charge to ferry someone across?”

“Thirty coins… per person.”

“Get the money out.”

Hong Geolgae, after offering to pay, naturally turned to Dang Mujin for the money. Was this a form of begging?

The boatman’s expression was complicated. He was pleased with the unexpected income but also visibly tense.

“Don’t worry, we won’t cause any trouble.”

“Yes, of course.”

Once Dang Mujin and Hong Geolgae boarded, the boatman pushed off with his long oar and began rowing diligently.

Dang Mujin asked Hong Geolgae.

“What was that about the perception of martial artists?”

“You know how people don’t always have the best view of even the righteous martial artists, right?”

“True.”

Dang Mujin understood well, having not been a martial artist until he was twenty.

When a group of people trained in the art of killing walked around with swords at their waists, it was natural for others to feel uneasy, even if they didn’t intend harm. Sometimes, they did cause harm, which only made it worse.

“But all the renowned righteous sects are south of this river. Beyond it, righteous martial artists are rare. While they might not be the best neighbors, compared to the rogue or dark sects, they’re saints.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Why do you think the boatman didn’t want to take money? Some of those rogues would just as soon cut his throat for asking. Not all rogue martial artists are like that, but there are too many who are.”

The boat creaked as it moved forward, eventually reaching the other side of the river.

Following Hong Geolgae, Dang Mujin and his companions traveled all day, reaching a village by evening.

“What’s this village called?”

“Pyeongri Village.”

Having seen the boatman’s wary demeanor, they stowed their swords in their packs before entering the village.

Except for Hong Geolgae’s staff, which, though made of some unknown material, looked like an ordinary bamboo cane.

The people of Pyeongri Village looked slightly different from typical southerners, and a subtle tension was evident on their faces.

While the reason for their different appearance was unclear, the source of their tension soon became apparent.

Whenever someone with a sword appeared, the villagers would take a step back and bow their heads in silence.

“The atmosphere is really tense.”

“Those guys must be causing a lot of trouble.”

But soon, an amusing scene unfolded.

The men swaggering with swords hesitated noticeably upon seeing Hong Geolgae. They averted their eyes and discreetly backed away.

Namgung Myung asked Hong Geolgae.

“What’s going on? They seem to recognize you.”

“I’ve been to Pyeongri Village a couple of times.”

“That’s not all. What did you do?”

“There were some troublemakers, so I had to knock a few heads.”

The three companions looked at Hong Geolgae with newfound understanding.

Though Hong Geolgae often seemed overshadowed, it wasn’t due to a lack of skill. It was simply because there were too many strong people around him.

Even among the leaders of small sects in the capital, many were less skilled than Hong Geolgae. The head of Seongrim Sect, who had once crossed swords with Dang Mujin, was no match for him.

To find someone on par with or slightly above Hong Geolgae, you’d have to look for the head of a mid-sized sect in a large city.

Hong Geolgae walked with his shoulders squared, exuding confidence. As the swordsmen retreated at his presence, the villagers began to gather around him.

One particularly eager person approached Hong Geolgae. Covered in flour, he was clearly the innkeeper.

He gently nudged Hyun Gong aside and stood close to Hong Geolgae, rubbing his hands together.

“Young Master Hong! It’s a pleasure to see you again. Since we’re fated to meet, may I treat you to a meal?”

“Of course.”

“Oh, and naturally, there’s no charge. Haha! Who are these people with you?”

“They’re my subordinates.”

Hong Geolgae’s outrageous claim went unchallenged.

It wasn’t the first time they’d indulged in such banter, and they felt Hong Geolgae deserved to show off a bit in front of familiar faces.

Hearing that Hong Geolgae had brought subordinates, the innkeeper was even more delighted.

“Ah, I see. If they’re with Master Hong, they deserve a treat too. Please, follow me!”

The innkeeper led them to the inn with the reverence of a servant.

The reason for his eagerness became clear soon enough.

Inside the inn were three ruffians who looked like they lived by the sword. Their faces were flushed from drink.

Dang Mujin observed them and thought.

“They look like the type who’d skip out on the bill.”

If only skipping the bill was the worst of it. Their presence would surely drive away potential customers.

Hyun Gong glanced around. The inn’s walls and tables were marred with countless scratches, evidence of frequent trouble.

But there was no need for Dang Mujin, Hyun Gong, or Namgung Myung to intervene.

The ruffians, who had been loudly enjoying their drinks, immediately stood up and retreated to a corner upon seeing Hong Geolgae.

The innkeeper glared at them before cheerfully guiding the group to their seats.

“Right this way!”

As Dang Mujin and his companions settled in the center of the inn, the ruffians began to inch their way towards the exit. Hong Geolgae pointed at them and spoke.

“Those folks are about to leave. Did they pay for their meal?”

The three ruffians reacted faster than the innkeeper.

“Oh, almost forgot to settle up. How much do we owe?”

“Two silver coins.”

The trio rummaged through their pockets, paid for their drinks, and cast a sidelong glance at Hong Geolge as they exited the inn. The innkeeper and the server exchanged bright smiles.

Hong Geolge wasn’t one to skip out on a bill. His mere presence was worth the price of a meal.

“Master Hong! Please wait a moment!”

The innkeeper dashed into the kitchen, bustling about with renewed energy.

The sounds coming from the kitchen weren’t just of boiling water; there was the sizzle of frying and the clatter of stir-frying, suggesting something more elaborate than simple noodles or dumplings.

Soon, two bottles of affordable yet quality baijiu and a generous spread of side dishes were laid out on the table. Just as the group was about to enjoy their satisfying dinner, a loud noise erupted from the inn’s entrance.

Bang!

Someone kicked the door open. It was one of the ruffians who had just slinked out.

Whatever had transpired outside, the ruffian now faced Hong Geolge with a defiant shout.

“Hong Geolge, you bastard! Didn’t I tell you I’d kill you if you ever set foot in Pyeongri Village again?”

Hong Geolge responded with a lukewarm indifference.

“I don’t recall that.”

“Must be going deaf. Anyway, consider today your funeral!”

“Hmm.”

Hong Geolge rose from his seat, leaning on his staff, and fixed his gaze on the ruffian.

The ruffian, undeterred, took a step back and shouted.

“Now, Master Danghang Samgwang!”

It seemed he had some backup after all.

As the ruffian stepped aside, three menacing warriors appeared, each more intimidating than the last.

All three wielded swords as large as those used for butchering cattle, a sight that left a strong impression.

‘They’ve all clearly surpassed the entry level of first-class fighters.’

Even for Hong Geolge, three against one was no easy feat. The ruffian’s confidence was not without reason. Sometimes, though, more than reason is required.

The Danghang Samgwang eyed Hong Geolge with fierce intent, then glanced at Dang Mujin and Namgung Myung.

The ruffian boldly pointed.

“That’s the beggar!”

But the Danghang Samgwang didn’t display the ferocity the ruffian had hoped for.

“Enjoy your meal…”

Instead, they offered polite smiles and a brief nod before attempting to leave.

However, they heard the door close behind them. Thud.

It was the sound of Hyeon Gong shutting the inn’s door.