Episode 212: Wuchang

“Did you say he was kicked out?”

It was clear that Commander Jeong had no idea that Namgung Myeong was staying at the inn just behind him, nor that Hyeon Gong was part of Namgung Myeong’s group.

Feigning ignorance, Hyeon Gong asked again, prompting Commander Jeong to hesitantly respond.

“It’s not a simple story… Can you promise not to tell anyone else?”

“Of course.”

Hyeon Gong agreed readily. After all, the more interesting the information, the better.

Not that he had any intention of keeping that promise. There were no witnesses to a secret conversation.

“My daughter, Ok-ryeong, was promised to Namgung Myeong, the eldest son of the Namgung family. But when Namgung Myeong was disowned, the marriage was effectively called off. Yet, Ok-ryeong seems unable to let go of the idea of marrying into the Namgung family, even though her new suitor is quite exceptional.”

Hyeon Gong nodded along, feigning interest.

“And what does this have to do with the Rainstorm Needle?”

“The situation is a bit complicated… The important thing is this: my son, Jeong Tae-ryeong, needs to lose quickly in the martial arts tournament so that Ok-ryeong can proceed with her new marriage. Everything was going smoothly until this Rainstorm Needle or whatever it is showed up and threw our plans into chaos.”

Commander Jeong couldn’t hide his frustration as he spoke.

After all, who could have predicted the appearance of the Rainstorm Needle?

“Even if your plans are disrupted and your daughter ends up marrying Namgung Myeong, isn’t that still a good outcome? Families often reconcile, and if things go well, you might still connect with the Namgung family.”

Commander Jeong replied with certainty to Hyeon Gong’s question.

“No, that’s not possible. The head of the Namgung family, Namgung Jincheon, isn’t the type to go back on his decisions. He’s firm, some might say cold-hearted. If he’s cut ties, it’s over. Even for his own son.”

Hyeon Gong pondered for a moment before offering a sensible response.

“A marriage isn’t just about family background. Why not trust Lady Jeong’s judgment? Unless there’s something particularly wrong with Namgung Myeong.”

“Something wrong? Namgung Myeong is just immature. That’s why he was disowned, or so I’ve heard. Everyone knows it, except my daughter.”

Hyeon Gong thought Commander Jeong’s assessment was quite generous. From what he knew, immaturity was the least of Namgung Myeong’s flaws.

It was clear Commander Jeong didn’t know that Namgung Myeong had lost his left arm, just as Jeong Ok-ryeong hadn’t known until recently.

What would Commander Jeong think if he found out his daughter had met Namgung Myeong and seen his missing arm, yet still hadn’t changed her mind?

Hyeon Gong’s lips itched to spill the secret, but he held his tongue.

“Even if someone matures late, they can still fulfill their role. Is there really a need to call off the marriage?”

“Now that things have come to this, we need to proceed with the marriage to the Jungdo Merchant Guild as soon as possible to clear our debts… No, forget I said that.”

Commander Jeong clasped Hyeon Gong’s hands.

“Please, help my daughter marry into a respectable family and keep our family and the Bowon Clan from falling apart. I’ll find a way to repay you.”

Though the promise of a reward came late, Hyeon Gong remained unmoved.

Given the circumstances, it seemed unlikely that any significant reward would come, and there was no guarantee of one either.

Traditionally, favors were paid upfront. But Commander Jeong was talking about paying later.

So Hyeon Gong replied indifferently.

“Yes, I’ll do my best.”

“I trust you. I should go find more people to help. Who knows when the kids will show up…”

Commander Jeong didn’t seem to believe that Hyeon Gong would solve all his problems.

If Commander Jeong were foolish enough to think a few words with a stranger could overcome his challenges, he wouldn’t have become the head of a mid-sized martial arts clan.

Hyeon Gong stood still even after Commander Jeong disappeared from view.

Once most of the people around the inn had dispersed, he quietly returned inside.

When Hyeon Gong entered the inn, Jeong Tae-ryeong and Jeong Ok-ryeong had already returned to their rooms. Meanwhile, Tang Mujin and his group were idly sitting before their now-cold meals.

Hyeon Gong sent Wang Jin-cheong, who was among Tang Mujin’s group, back to his room.

“Alright, it’s late. Time to sleep.”

Wang Jin-cheong obediently returned to his room without protest.

He was quite content with having a guardian around, making him more compliant than most children.

Once Wang Jin-cheong was gone, Tang Mujin and his group perked up, sensing an interesting story was about to unfold.

“Something happened outside just now…”

Hyeon Gong calmly recounted his conversation with Commander Jeong.

The group realized belatedly that Jeong Ok-ryeong’s goals might not align with those of the Bowon Clan.

The most puzzling thing was Namgung Myeong’s calm reaction.

Even after learning that Commander Jeong held him in low regard, he remained unperturbed.

“Namgung Myeong, why are you so calm?”

Tang Mujin asked, and Namgung Myeong replied in a composed voice.

“Because back when Commander Jeong knew me, I really was an immature brat. It’s not strange for him to think of me that way. It’s only natural.”

His statement implied that he had matured since then.

Though it was a rather unrealistic claim, the others exchanged glances without pointing it out. People tend to be more forgiving at night.

Hong Geol-gae asked Namgung Myeong.

“So, what are you going to do? I doubt you’ll make Jeong Tae-ryeong lose on purpose for Commander Jeong and the Bowon Clan.”

Namgung Myeong pondered for a moment before speaking.

“Actually, the most thrilling way would be to make Jeong Tae-ryeong lose, then swoop in and steal Jeong Ok-ryeong just as her marriage to the Jungdo Merchant Guild’s heir is about to be finalized.”

In other words, he suggested creating an even more precarious situation and then intervening for maximum satisfaction.

But Namgung Myeong wasn’t foolish enough to act solely on impulse.

He added a sensible remark.

“But realistically, that’s not possible.”

“For once, you’re making sense.”

Hong Geol-gae, Tang Mujin, and Hyeon Gong all reacted similarly.

Namgung Myeong frowned, displeased by their reactions.

“I do have common sense. This isn’t just about stealing an object; it’s a marriage. Acting rashly would only confuse Jeong Ok-ryeong and ruin a settled marriage, damaging my reputation.”

“Reputation?”

Hong Geol-gae was shocked for a different reason.

“You’re concerned about your reputation? A guy who sneaks over walls at night?”

“Roaming the night is my hobby. And honing my skills to keep that hobby a secret is part of managing my reputation. I’m always managing my reputation.”

As usual, Namgung Myeong’s words were absurd but not entirely nonsensical.

A thief whose crimes are undiscovered has a better reputation than one who’s been caught and exposed.

Namgung Myeong tapped the table to draw attention and concluded.

“Regardless of their family issues, we’ll stick to our plan. Jeong Tae-ryeong will win.”

The group nodded in agreement.

Four days later, the next match took place.

Jeong Tae-ryeong’s opponent was a swordsman who seemed reasonably skilled. Though his abilities appeared average, one thing stood out: he wore a rather thick padded coat onto the stage.

“A padded coat in the middle of summer? He must be hot.”

“Do you think that coat can stop the Rainstorm Needle?”

Tang Mujin answered confidently.

“Of course not. He’d need at least a tanned leather coat for any chance.”

The match began.

Despite sweating profusely from the heat, Jeong Tae-ryeong’s opponent aggressively closed the distance, determined not to give him a chance to use the Rainstorm Needle.

But Jeong Tae-ryeong calmly blocked every attack, and as soon as he found an opening, he reached for his waist.

“Ooooooh!”

The audience, who had been watching the match indifferently, suddenly erupted with excitement. They were there to see the Rainstorm Needle, not just the tournament.

Jeong Tae-ryeong, not wanting to disappoint, drew the Rainstorm Needle from his waist like lightning and fired two consecutive shots at his opponent. The movement was as smooth as any sword-drawing technique.

Click, click.

Even if the padded coat could have blocked it, Jeong Tae-ryeong skillfully aimed for areas not covered by the coat.

As a result, his opponent collapsed onto the stage.

“It was real!”

“Did you see that? I told you it was true!”

Some asked for confirmation that the Rainstorm Needle wasn’t just a myth,

“Yaaaaaah!”

while most of the crowd erupted in deafening cheers.

Jeong Tae-ryeong, looking immensely proud, twirled the Rainstorm Needle a few times before tucking it back into his waist.

Everyone else, even his companions, was busy marveling at the power of the Rainstorm Needle.

But Tang Mujin, already well aware of its capabilities, leisurely surveyed the surroundings.

Amidst the chaos of the shouting and jostling crowd, there was one man who remained calm.

He wore a deeply pulled-down straw hat, but beneath it, a grizzled beard peeked out.

Clearly, he was no young man, yet his posture was upright and his build was imposing, reminiscent of a seasoned warrior.

However, the man was visible only for a fleeting moment before the throng of people obscured him again, and Tang Mujin’s interest in him quickly waned.

“Let’s get ready to head back,” Hyun Gong whispered.

Hong Geolgae hoisted Wang Jincheng onto his back, while Namgung Myung did the same with Jung Okryung.

“The winner is Jung Taeryeong of the Bowon Clan!” the announcer declared.

As soon as Jung Taeryeong’s victory was announced, he gave a brief salute and then sprinted with all his might.

His destination was the inn. He needed to get there before the spectators blocked the entrance.

Jung Taeryeong dashed forward, leaving the crowd behind. Before long, Tang Mujin and his group caught up with him, and they all reached the inn together.

Naturally, no one arrived at the inn before Jung Taeryeong and Tang Mujin’s group.

“Ah, it’s nice and quiet,” Tang Mujin remarked, stretching as he opened the door to the inn.

But as soon as he stepped inside, he felt a strong sense of unease.

The inn was eerily silent, as if it were deserted.

Tang Mujin’s eyes scanned the room for the innkeeper and the staff.

He soon spotted them huddled in a corner of the kitchen, though it was unclear whether they were alive or dead.

In the center of the inn sat a lone figure.

While the others failed to recognize him, Tang Mujin knew exactly who he was.

The grizzled beard and straw hat—he was the same middle-aged man from the crowd earlier.

He was calmly polishing a sword laid out on the table with a white cloth.

‘He got here before us and subdued the innkeeper and staff?’ Tang Mujin’s group hesitated, unsure of the man’s martial prowess.

He seemed both like a formidable master and an ordinary man with no martial skills at all.

However, Jung Taeryeong’s reaction was different from the rest of Tang Mujin’s group.

Lacking the ability to gauge the man’s skills, Jung Taeryeong relied on his secret weapon, the Rain of Blossoms Needle, which he could use one more time.

Just as he had demonstrated in the martial arts competition, Jung Taeryeong drew the needle and fired it in one swift motion.

But the man in the straw hat blurred and vanished from sight. The ten needles clattered uselessly against the inn’s walls.

‘A master indeed.’

His movements were swift and elusive, even faster than Hyun Gong’s Cloud Steps.

“How rude,” the middle-aged man muttered, executing another swift movement.

In the blink of an eye, he was casually draping an arm over Jung Taeryeong’s shoulder.

“Is this the hand that was so impolite?” he said, twisting Jung Taeryeong’s wrist.

A sickening crack echoed as the bone snapped.

“Master Jung!” Tang Mujin’s group cried out.

Jung Taeryeong’s wrist was bent at an unnatural angle.

Even those with no medical knowledge could see it—Jung Taeryeong would never wield a sword again.

He belatedly screamed in agony.

“Aaaah! Aaaaargh!”

Tang Mujin’s group rushed at the middle-aged man, weapons drawn. Their attacks were hasty and uncoordinated.

Yet, even considering that, the man in the straw hat evaded their strikes with ease, all while maintaining his grip on Jung Taeryeong’s neck.

He slammed Jung Taeryeong’s face into the table and spoke.

“Tell me, who made the Rain of Blossoms Needle for you?”