Episode 222: The Tang Family Head

The next morning, Tang Mujin received a summons from Namgung Myung and headed to the backyard of the clinic. He found Hyun Gong and Hong Geolgae already crouched there. Their eyes met, and Tang Mujin felt a tightness in his chest.

Namgung Myung never called people together for good news, so it was clear something had gone wrong. The real issue was that the people he gathered to fix the problem were these guys.

As Tang Mujin let out a sigh, unable to hold it in, Hyun Gong and Hong Geolgae sighed in unison, as if on cue.

The three of them began speculating about what kind of trouble Namgung Myung had gotten into this time.

“He’s probably been caught trying to rob somewhere in celebration of returning to Chengdu, right? Is there anywhere in Sichuan that Namgung Myung hasn’t hit yet?”

“As far as I know, there are three main places: the main hall of the Qingcheng Sect, the main hall of the Emei Sect, and the residence of Elder Sam Anbul.”

“He wouldn’t have called us if he got caught at Elder Sam Anbul’s place, so it’s either the Qingcheng Sect or the Emei Sect.”

“It can’t be the Qingcheng Sect’s main hall. Even with all his skills, he couldn’t get in and out in one night.”

“Then it’s probably the Emei Sect.”

“Most likely.”

Getting into trouble with the Emei Sect was preferable to the Qingcheng Sect. With a powerful mediator like Hwa Yeonshin, there was a higher chance of keeping things quiet. Of course, no secret lasts forever, but that was Namgung Myung’s problem to deal with.

As they were lost in their imaginations, Namgung Myung appeared, looking unusually serious.

Hong Geolgae asked, “Did you run into some kind of disaster at the Emei Sect?”

“Why would you think that? It’s not like that.”

“Then why did you call us?”

“I’ll explain now.”

As always, they expected Namgung Myung to ramble on about something unimportant. But as they listened, their expressions grew more serious.

“Hmm.”

Tang Mujin and Hong Geolgae could understand Namgung Myung’s story intellectually, but they couldn’t empathize with it deeply. They hadn’t grown up in martial sects or families, nor had they been martial artists from a young age. The enmity between orthodox and unorthodox martial artists felt somewhat abstract to them.

But Hyun Gong was different.

“Honestly, I thought something like this might happen. I know how hostile orthodox martial artists can be towards the unorthodox.”

“Really? I had no idea.”

“The Wudang Sect suffered greatly in the last war between the orthodox and unorthodox, so they bear a grudge against the unorthodox.”

“Is it the same for the Namgung family?”

Namgung Myung shook his head.

“It’s a bit different. The Namgung family didn’t suffer much in the last war. We’re located in the south, in Anhui Province, and the war mostly affected the north. Of course, we weren’t completely uninvolved—some people died, and my uncle lost an arm. But compared to other sects, our losses weren’t severe.”

Tang Mujin recalled Namgung Myung’s uncle, Namgung Jinya, who had lost his arm during the war. It was a story he had heard before.

“So, the Namgung family doesn’t have a grudge against the unorthodox?”

“Not exactly. If the unorthodox start another war, the Namgung family would be on the front lines, so naturally, they view them with disdain.”

Tang Mujin thought of the Gongdong Sect, which had tried to embrace the unorthodox even while fighting them in the north. Many criticized them as a half-hearted orthodox sect, but Tang Mujin knew they had made a difficult decision and were walking a challenging path. It was unfortunate how things had become so tangled.

Hong Geolgae asked Namgung Myung, “But you and Hyun Gong didn’t seem to have any issues with Elder Hyulwook, right?”

Namgung Myung replied with a mature demeanor, “I’m not narrow-minded. I’ve traveled all over the central plains and broadened my perspective. Just as there are good and bad people in the orthodox, there are good and bad people in the unorthodox. I don’t see all martial artists south of the Yangtze as enemies.”

Tang Mujin interpreted Namgung Myung’s words from another angle. If there was anyone among the orthodox martial artists who was closest to the unorthodox, it would be Namgung Myung. People tend to feel affinity towards those similar to themselves. Given the circumstances, it was natural for his view of the unorthodox to change.

Hyun Gong, who had been silent for a moment, spoke up. “The real issue is simple. If Elder Hyulwook stays with the Tang family, the entire family could be in danger.”

“Exactly.”

“Then the solution is simple, isn’t it? We should just kick him out.”

Everyone was taken aback. If someone else had suggested it, they might have understood, but Hyun Gong was the last person they expected to say such a thing. Wasn’t he close to Elder Hyulwook?

Tang Mujin asked, “Are you serious?”

“Of course. This isn’t something to take lightly. If things escalate, it won’t just be Elder Hyulwook who suffers; the entire Tang family will be affected. Everyone who escaped from the demonic cult to settle here, including you, your family, Hong Geolgae, and Namgung Myung, will be in the same boat.”

But Tang Mujin disagreed with Hyun Gong’s opinion.

“No. You know how wide my network is. I have connections with most of the major sects, so it won’t get that bad.”

Hyun Gong scoffed. “The Shaolin and Wudang might turn a blind eye because of your deep ties, but other sects won’t. Do you think your personal connections can protect the lives of dozens, even hundreds? It wouldn’t be surprising if the nearby Qingcheng and Emei Sects turned their backs on you.”

It was a cold, rational argument, and no one could refute Hyun Gong’s words.

After a pause, Hyun Gong added, “Remember, in the face of a greater grudge, even friendships can lose their shine. There are no eternal enemies or allies in this world.”

The conversation came to a halt. However, Tang Mujin, Namgung Myung, and Hong Geolgae all seemed dissatisfied with Hyun Gong’s proposed solution. There was also a subtle discontent towards Hyun Gong for suggesting they turn their backs on Elder Hyulwook, knowing what kind of person he was.

Sensing the tension, Hyun Gong clapped his hands together with a feigned cheerfulness. “I’m relieved. You guys are just as I expected.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was worried you might be swayed by this kind of talk.”

“So, you weren’t serious?”

“Of course not. When undertaking something like this, you can’t have hesitant people involved, so I was just testing you.”

Hong Geolgae nodded slightly, as if he had expected this. But Tang Mujin narrowed his eyes. If it had been anyone else, he might have been able to tell if it was a joke or not, but with Hyun Gong, it was hard to say.

Perhaps feeling the awkwardness, Hyun Gong smoothly changed the subject. Even the way he referred to Elder Hyulwook shifted naturally.

“Anyway, it seems we’ve agreed to help Brother Jang. Now we just need to figure out how. Anyone have any good ideas?”

The three, excluding Hyun Gong, fell into thought. This was no easy problem.

People often admire martial artists, but few actually walk the path of a martial artist. It’s not just a matter of lacking talent. Even in the dirtiest ponds, the most beautiful lotus can bloom. Many people, from humble backgrounds or with no connection to the sword, have had their lives transformed by picking up a blade.

Tang Mujin himself was one such person.

People know they can change their lives with a sword, yet they hesitate to pick one up. It’s not about talent; it’s about practical reasons. They’re busy with their livelihoods, can’t find a master to teach them martial arts, fear the life-and-death struggles, and most importantly, they know the aftermath of a martial artist’s life isn’t pretty.

Those in large sects or families have it better. The elders pass down their experience and martial arts, and the strong disciples protect their masters.

But those who don’t belong to a large sect or family face a different reality. They might live grandly in their youth, but most end up stabbed and forgotten in their old age, their bodies left for wild animals. People fear such an end.

This isn’t a problem that can be solved by improving one’s martial arts. In fact, if they were nobodies, they might avoid such a fate. Change their name, flee to another land, and who would recognize them?

But those who make a name for themselves in the martial world without a proper affiliation almost invariably meet a tragic end, just as Elder Hyulwook feared.

Tang Mujin spoke up. “Can’t Elder Hyulwook just live without his hat? The only clues to his identity are his high martial skills and that hat, right?”

Namgung Myung disagreed. “He said it himself last time. Even without the hat, those looking for him will find him.”

“This time might be different.”

“Absolutely not. Even Hwa Yeonshin came all the way here after hearing rumors about Elder Hyulwook. The word is out. Many will come looking.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“I’ll stake my left wrist on it.”

Namgung Myung wiggled his left wrist, the rings on it glinting.

Hyun Gong interjected with a suggestion. “The problem is the rumor that Brother Jang is at the Tang family, right? So why not tackle it with a reverse approach?”

“How so?”

After removing his hat, he pondered, “Should we just drive him as far away from the Tang family as possible? Or maybe we could help him leave on his own? Rumors are spreading that there’s a Zhang brother at the Tang family, but what if there isn’t? It might actually make things safer.”

Both Tang Mujin and Namgung Myung shook their heads. Surely, the Blood Rain Guest had tried such methods before.

Yet, no matter how hard they thought, no other solution seemed viable.

After all, it was a problem that countless wanderers had wrestled with for centuries without success. A sudden solution wasn’t likely to appear.

Then, Hong Geolge, who had been silent for a while, finally spoke up.

“Something happened when I was in Jueul Village.”

An unexpected story. Everyone turned their attention to Hong Geolge.

“As you know, the kids in the village are always fighting. It’s just part of life there, and of course, grudges linger.”

“True,” they all agreed. Boys often end up in a scuffle or two.

“Jueul Village isn’t big, and there aren’t many kids. But as grudges built up, they couldn’t even play together anymore. So, an unspoken rule emerged.”

“What kind of rule?”

“Before the lunar new year, everyone agreed to let go of the past year’s grudges. They could fight it out again, apologize, or just let it go.”

“Does that really work?”

“Not perfectly, but it helps. If someone was still sulking over last year’s issues during the New Year’s Eve dinner, they’d be teased and called a petty fool.”

In children’s fights, there’s no stake but pride. And kids can’t stand being called petty fools.

In a way, the principles guiding children and martial artists aren’t so different.

“That’s a good idea. It would be nice if the martial world had such a rule,” Tang Mujin agreed.

“Why not make one?” Hong Geolge suggested. “Tell the Blood Rain Guest to announce that he’ll only play the villain until the end of the year. If anyone has a problem, they should come forward before the year ends. Set a deadline to settle scores.”

Tang Mujin thought of the strict abbot at Shaolin Temple, who had decisively ended rumors about the White Lotus Divine Fist and the Shadowless Step he had learned. But that was possible because Shaolin was as small a community as Jueul Village.

Tang Mujin shook his head.

“It’s not realistic.”

“Why not?”

“Think about it. The central plains aren’t Jueul Village. How would you spread the word to so many people?”

Hong Geolge replied without hesitation.

“Tang Mujin, you’ve been almost everywhere in the central plains and know a lot of people. Ask them for help. Reach out to Shaolin, Wudang, and all the other sects. Spread the word.”

It was a simple, almost childlike idea. Tang Mujin asked again.

“Shaolin and Wudang aren’t exactly nearby. How would you get the message to them all?”

“Send a bunch of carrier pigeons. You’ve got the money.”

“Money… True, but it would take time.”

“Tell them to come by the New Year. It’s still summer, so there’s plenty of time.”

Tang Mujin considered it, then pointed out another issue.

“There will be more than a few who come looking for a fight.”

“That’s for the Blood Rain Guest to handle. Besides, he’s still strong. Better to deal with it now than when he’s older.”

It was a solution anyone could think of, but not one just anyone could execute.

Yet, with connections and money, most things in the world could be managed.

And Tang Mujin happened to have both.

His friends’ eyes were on him, filled with intrigue.

Men are often drawn to the strange and the untried.

Everyone thought the plan was foolish. Even Hong Geolge, who suggested it, thought so.

And perhaps because of that, the conclusion was inevitable.

“Let’s do it.”

Seven days later, a multitude of people set out for Sichuan.