Hwang Yeop, a first-rate martial artist of the Sapa sect, received a peculiar letter from his friend Chu Jin-myung.
“What’s this letter about?”
“Just read it first.”
Hwang Yeop unfolded the letter. It began with an unusual message:
[This letter originated in Sichuan Province. If you pass on identical letters to seven people within twelve hours, great fortune will come your way. The Kim family of Hebei, thinking it a harmless prank, sent out seven letters and found five coffins of gold the next day at the foot of a cliff. However, the Wei family of Namju, who did not believe, found a large boil on their thigh…]
Hwang Yeop glanced at Chu Jin-myung, who had brought him the letter. Chu Jin-myung stood with his arms crossed, urging him to read further.
Continuing, Hwang Yeop found the letter’s main point after the odd threat about boils. It was a challenge from a martial artist known as Hyulwoo-gae, who was looking to leave his life in the Sapa sect behind. Anyone dissatisfied with this decision was invited to confront him at the Tang family estate in Chengdu before the year ended.
“Where did you get this letter?” Hwang Yeop asked.
“From Deung Seon-chun.”
Though Hwang Yeop didn’t know Deung Seon-chun personally, he had a rough idea of his reputation—a martial artist affiliated with the orthodox sects.
Hwang Yeop suspected the letter might have come from the orthodox martial world north of the Yangtze River. But that wasn’t the important part. The content of the letter was what mattered.
‘Hyulwoo-gae,’ he mused, recalling the rumors.
Hyulwoo-gae was a renowned martial artist south of the Yangtze, known for a few distinct traits: he always wore a bamboo hat, never traveled with a group, and rarely killed his challengers. Unlike other Sapa martial artists who were quick to draw blood, Hyulwoo-gae’s restraint was unsettling.
Even when ambushed by ten men or attacked in his sleep, he wouldn’t kill his opponents. Such a martial artist was unheard of.
Various rumors circulated about why Hyulwoo-gae avoided killing. The prevailing theory was that he relished the thrill of life-and-death battles.
Hyulwoo-gae was like a lone wolf, not just any wolf, but one driven by boredom to wander the world in search of challengers. He couldn’t kill them, for that would end his quest for excitement.
Yet, Hyulwoo-gae wasn’t always gentle. Stories abounded of him slaughtering dozens, even hundreds, without blinking when something displeased him. Witnesses were never left alive.
His brutal efficiency earned him the moniker Hyulwoo-gae. Sapa martial artists both feared and idolized him, seeing in him the epitome of their aspirations.
Many challenged Hyulwoo-gae, but none had bested him over the years, only adding to his legend. Eventually, people’s interest shifted from Hyulwoo-gae himself to the potential challenger who might one day defeat him.
Who would be the one to claim Hyulwoo-gae’s illustrious reputation? Would such a person ever appear?
Hwang Yeop reread the letter. The talk of leaving the Sapa life was just a pretext. The real message was a challenge to anyone dissatisfied to come forward before the year ended.
It was a call to arms for all of Zhongyuan.
‘How audacious,’ Hwang Yeop thought, but he acknowledged that Hyulwoo-gae had earned the right. The letter’s contents sent a shiver down his spine.
Chu Jin-myung, still with his arms crossed, asked, “Are you thinking of going to Chengdu?”
Hwang Yeop, a first-rate martial artist, knew his humble sword skills were no match for Hyulwoo-gae. Yet, he had made up his mind.
“Of course. Whether Hyulwoo-gae becomes a legend or a new legend is born, I have to witness it.”
It would surely be chaos. He might not win alone, but amidst the throng, his sword might find its mark. The thought thrilled him.
“Alright. Let’s set off tomorrow,” Chu Jin-myung said, leaving the house.
Hwang Yeop started to pack but hesitated, recalling the letter’s opening. The part about passing it to seven people.
He knew it was nonsense. How could spreading letters bring fortune? Yet, he couldn’t shake the thought. What if the Kim family’s gold and the Wei family’s boil were true?
‘It’s not that hard, after all.’
For the first time in ages, Hwang Yeop picked up a brush.
Some time later, after the harvest and as the air turned crisp, Hwang Yeop and Chu Jin-myung arrived in Chengdu, Sichuan Province.
Hwang Yeop appeared slightly tense. Sichuan was undeniably the territory of the orthodox sects, home to two major sects. They might unexpectedly encounter a Taoist from the Qingcheng sect or a nun from the Emei sect.
Chu Jin-myung whispered, “No need to worry. Didn’t you hear the people talking earlier? The Qingcheng sect is turning a blind eye to Sapa martial artists in Chengdu as long as they don’t cause trouble.”
“That can’t be right. The Qingcheng sect is known for being ruthless.”
“Even if it’s just a rumor, we don’t have to worry. We’re not big enough to attract attention.”
They weren’t the kind of figures who could make a name for themselves in far-off Sichuan unless they were martial artists who had surpassed the pinnacle.
Hwang Yeop and Chu Jin-myung decided to pose as orthodox martial artists if they encountered anyone from the Qingcheng or Emei sects.
Entering Chengdu, they surveyed their surroundings. They noticed people with different accents and those with swords at their waists—martial artists drawn by the tales of Hyulwoo-gae.
After wandering for a while, they entered a small inn called the Seonam Inn. A young attendant quickly approached them.
Hwang Yeop handed the attendant twenty coins.
“Two bowls of noodles. Keep the change.”
A bowl of noodles cost at most five coins, so the attendant knew they had other business.
“Is there anything else you need?”
“Mind if I ask you something?”
“Of course, if it’s something I know.”
People often overlooked attendants, but they were excellent sources of information. They might not know high-level secrets, but they had plenty of stories to share for a few coins.
“I’m new to Chengdu. Are there many Qingcheng and Emei sect martial artists here?”
“Emei nuns rarely leave Mount Emei, but the Qingcheng sect has a branch here in Chengdu.”
“A branch, you say. How skilled is the branch leader?”
“Master Hwang Ryeong-ja is a top-tier martial artist. The chief instructor, Jin Song, is first-rate.”
A top-tier leader and a first-rate second-in-command. For a city as large as Chengdu, it was a modest level.
Hwang Yeop asked his next question.
“What is the Tang family estate?”
“Ah, you’re here for the Tang family, I see. You don’t seem to be from the orthodox sects…”
As the attendant began to ramble, Hwang Yeop and Chu Jin-myung fixed him with a cold stare.
Realizing his mistake, the attendant quickly lowered his head.
“My apologies. I tend to speak out of turn. Please forgive me.”
“We’ll let it slide this time. Now, what is the Tang family estate?”
“It’s a family of physicians.”
“Physicians?”
“Yes, though they’ve recently prospered enough to be called an estate, they were known as the Tang Clinic until a couple of years ago.”
The Tang Clinic. It sounded familiar.
‘Where have I heard that before?’
After some thought, Hwang Yeop remembered. A young physician known as the Medical Dragon was said to be from the Tang Clinic in Chengdu.
“Is that the Tang Clinic with the Medical Dragon?”
“That’s right. The wall you see over there belongs to the Tang family estate.”
Following the attendant’s finger, Hwang Yeop and Chu Jin-myung saw a substantial wall, recently built, with no vines climbing it.
“What kind of person is the head of the Tang family?”
“Master Tang’s medical skills have long been renowned, attracting patients from other regions. His son, known as the Medical Dragon, speaks to their skill.”
“Does the head of the Tang family have any other talents? Martial arts, perhaps?”
“No, he knows nothing of martial arts.”
The pieces fell into place for Hwang Yeop. Hyulwoo-gae must have been injured and sought treatment at the Tang family estate. But someone like Hyulwoo-gae would naturally dominate his surroundings, like a tiger causing goats to collapse just by breathing.
Hyulwoo-gae likely took control of the Tang estate and decided to stage a showdown there.
‘So that’s how it is. In Chengdu, the only ones to watch out for are Hyulwoo-gae and the Qingcheng sect’s Hwang Ryeong-ja.’
Avoiding those two meant they could cause trouble without interference. Hwang Ryeong-ja would be in Qingcheng sect robes, and Hyulwoo-gae would wear a bamboo hat, making them easy to identify.
‘Looks like we can have some fun here.’
Hwang Yeop chuckled with satisfaction as he handed the innkeeper two more coins. The innkeeper, having received an unexpected bonus twice, hesitated instead of leaving immediately.
“Is there something else you want to say?” Hwang Yeop asked.
“Yes, there’s one more thing,” the innkeeper replied.
“And what might that be?”
“You seem like a martial artist, but if you ever find yourself in a dispute with someone, it’s best to walk away. The head of the Tang family may not practice martial arts, but many who stay at the Tang estate do.”
Choo Jin-myung, who had been listening nearby, scoffed. It was clear the innkeeper had no idea that he and Hwang Yeop were first-rate martial artists. After all, the appearance of a third-rate thug and a top-tier martial artist isn’t all that different.
Choo Jin-myung waved dismissively. “We’re not the kind to worry about small fry.”
“It’s not that…”
Just then, a commotion erupted outside. The three of them turned to look out the inn’s window. Two martial artists stood in the street, swords drawn, glaring at each other.
With faces flushed with anger, the two men exchanged heated words.
“Ha! Looks like I’ll have to kill someone all the way here in Chengdu.”
“Your arrogant head will be trampled in the marketplace.”
Their disheveled attire and aggressive demeanor suggested they were either rogue martial artists or from a rival sect.
The crowd around them shouted.
“Someone stop them!”
“Who?”
“Isn’t Master Lim around?”
“I saw him leave earlier.”
“Or maybe the owner of the Seonam Inn…”
The villagers’ eyes turned to Hwang Yeop and Choo Jin-myung. It suddenly dawned on them that they were sitting in the Seonam Inn.
Someone suggested, “No, there are guests in the inn.”
“Then go fetch Old Man Song from the Jujube House.”
“Good idea.”
It was absurd. The two fighters were clearly of a high caliber, possibly even first-rate. Hwang Yeop and Choo Jin-myung would have to take them seriously.
Yet, the villagers remained oddly calm, as if they believed Old Man Song from the Jujube House could stop a fight between top martial artists.
‘Someone might get hurt if they interfere carelessly.’
Soon, the much-discussed Old Man Song appeared. He looked like he might have swung a sword in his youth, but his dusty clothes didn’t give off the impression of a martial artist. To make matters worse, he wasn’t holding a sword but a flail, as if he’d just come from threshing grain.
Old Man Song shouted at the two fighters, “Stop! Cease this at once!”
The two men ignored him, their swords still aimed at each other with deadly intent.
The crowd had grown too large for anyone to back away now.
Then, Old Man Song set down his flail and walked steadily toward the two combatants.
‘That old man is going to get himself killed,’ thought Hwang Yeop.
In that moment, Old Man Song displayed an unusual footwork technique. His hands moved like lightning, grabbing the back of each fighter’s head.
“What the—”
Ignoring their protests, Old Man Song slammed their heads into the ground with a resounding thud. The two men went limp.
And just like that, it was over.
’…What just happened?’
Old Man Song dragged the unconscious men away, tossing them over the Tang estate wall as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
The villagers dispersed without a word, as if this were a common occurrence.
Hwang Yeop, Choo Jin-myung, and a few outsiders who had been watching the fight were left bewildered, their eyes wide with confusion.
Hwang Yeop turned to Choo Jin-myung. “What was that?”
”…A hidden master?”
Just then, the innkeeper placed two bowls of noodles in front of them.
Hwang Yeop and Choo Jin-myung glanced at the noodles, then shifted their gaze to the inn’s owner in the kitchen.
Someone had mentioned fetching the owner of the Seonam Inn.
The innkeeper had too many scars for a mere innkeeper. It wasn’t the number of scars that was concerning, but their placement. Face, shoulders, forearms—scars covered every visible inch of skin. No ordinary innkeeper would have scars in such places.
Moreover, the way the innkeeper held the kitchen knife seemed off, as if he hadn’t been holding it for long.
The two men each took a bite of their noodles.
For a dish made by someone in the culinary trade, it was surprisingly tasteless.
Yet instinctively, they knew better than to complain.
‘This village, Chengdu, the Tang estate—something’s not right.’
Cold sweat trickled down their backs.