Chapter 403: The Gentle Winter
It was a day so mild that it felt as if spring might arrive at any moment, despite it being winter. Yet, the weather in Sichuan was notoriously fickle, playing the same tricks year after year. After a few days of warmth, the cold would return with a vengeance, reminding everyone that winter wasn’t over just yet. Even as spring approached, the chill would linger, forcing people to pull their collars tight against the wind. Fortunately, the people had grown wise to these annual antics and were no longer easily fooled.
“It’s about time to leave,” Tang Mujin thought as he began packing his belongings. Yu Jingwang approached him.
“You’re leaving already?” Yu Jingwang asked.
“Yes. When there are many people, things tend to move slower than expected,” Tang Mujin replied.
“I understand, but it seems a bit early…” Yu Jingwang said, though he didn’t truly believe it was too soon. He simply wanted to linger in Chengdu a bit longer to earn more money. Despite being a pure-hearted martial artist, the world hadn’t allowed Yu Jingwang to focus solely on his martial arts. The poverty of the Wudang Sect was a problem, and as its leader, Yu Jingwang couldn’t abandon his responsibilities to focus solely on training.
Tang Mujin knew Yu Jingwang’s thoughts but had to speak up. “It’s better to arrive a little early than to fret about being late.”
“True enough,” Yu Jingwang conceded. He wasn’t selfish enough to ask others to delay their plans for the sake of the Wudang Sect’s finances.
As the martial artists from the Qingcheng, Emei, and Wudang Sects began to pack, the Tang Manor buzzed with activity. The residents of the manor didn’t just stand by idly; they prepared food for the travelers to take on their long journey.
Jang Il-nam and Wi Jin-hyang, who weren’t participating in the upcoming battle, stayed quietly indoors, avoiding attention. No one could force them to the battlefield, and they knew it was best not to disrupt the atmosphere. Besides, they enjoyed each other’s company in solitude.
Tang Mujin made his way to Sam An-bul’s quarters. Sam An-bul was sitting on the porch as usual.
“I’m planning to leave tomorrow,” Tang Mujin said.
“Don’t worry, I’ve packed everything,” Sam An-bul replied.
Tang Mujin glanced inside. Sam An-bul owned very little. His belongings consisted of a simple bundle with a few items: a modest alms bowl, a slightly worn but clean monk’s robe, and a string of prayer beads with unusually large beads. Unlike the typical 108-bead rosary, Sam An-bul’s had only fourteen.
“Traveling light, I see,” Tang Mujin remarked.
“If I’m to be called a rogue monk, I should at least look the part,” Sam An-bul said with a chuckle, surveying his small abode with a warm gaze.
“I never thought I’d stay here for eight years,” he mused.
“Would you like me to fix up any worn parts?” Tang Mujin offered.
“No need. I won’t be coming back,” Sam An-bul replied, his words carrying a deeper meaning.
Tang Mujin looked at him intently, prompting Sam An-bul to laugh heartily. “After we deal with the Great Protector, I’ll return to Tianshan to rebuild the Demonic Sect.”
“I thought you had turned your back on the sect,” Tang Mujin said.
“I did, at first. But even those who flee need a place to rest,” Sam An-bul explained.
“What about Lady Hwa Yeon-shin?” Tang Mujin asked.
“That’s for Hwa-ryeong to decide,” Sam An-bul replied. He hoped she would join him after the battle, but Hwa Yeon-shin was a woman of strong will, always going where she pleased and doing as she wished. Sam An-bul couldn’t impose his desires on her.
“I’ve heard the sect leader’s skills are extraordinary,” Tang Mujin noted.
“I’ve heard the same,” Sam An-bul acknowledged.
“It won’t be an easy fight,” Tang Mujin warned.
“I’m aware,” Sam An-bul said.
“Then you should travel separately,” Tang Mujin suggested.
“Separately?” Sam An-bul asked.
“You’ll move faster alone. While the others head straight to Mount Gongdong, you can detour to meet Lady Hwa Yeon-shin,” Tang Mujin proposed.
Though Tang Mujin had thought carefully about his suggestion, Sam An-bul shook his head. “No need.”
“I can manage the Demonic Sect’s martial artists for a while,” Tang Mujin assured him.
“That’s not the issue,” Sam An-bul said.
“Then what is?” Tang Mujin asked.
“When Hwa-ryeong heard I was joining the battle, she was angrier than you might think. She’s probably still upset,” Sam An-bul explained.
Tang Mujin stood awkwardly, prompting Sam An-bul to pat him on the back. “It’s not something you need to worry about. You have plenty to do before you leave, so focus on that.”
“Understood,” Tang Mujin said, walking away slowly. But he couldn’t leave without a word, so he asked Wang Chong-guan to send a brief message to Hwa Yeon-shin.
“Can I come in?” Mok Wan-ah asked.
“Of course,” Tang Mujin replied.
Mok Wan-ah was the first to visit after Tang Mujin finished packing. Her voice was tinged with worry.
“They say it’s going to be dangerous this time,” she said.
“It’ll be fine,” Tang Mujin reassured her, though he didn’t truly believe it. Even journeys that seemed safe had always been fraught with danger. How much more perilous would this one be, knowing the risks from the start?
“I had a bad dream last night,” Mok Wan-ah confessed.
“You always say that, and I always come back safe,” Tang Mujin reminded her.
“Still…” Mok Wan-ah hesitated.
“Don’t worry,” Tang Mujin said, pulling her into a gentle hug. She tensed at first but gradually relaxed. They’d been through this routine many times before, yet Mok Wan-ah couldn’t shake her unease this time.
“I overheard people talking,” she began again. “About how strong the Great Protector—or rather, the sect leader—is. Even Master Namgung Jin-cheon gave up.”
“True, but we won’t know for sure until we face him,” Tang Mujin said.
Mok Wan-ah placed her hands over his, looking him in the eye. “The important thing is that you come back safe. Nothing else matters. Understand?”
Tang Mujin smiled faintly. “What, you want me to abandon everyone and run? I’d be called a coward.”
“Yes, that’s fine,” Mok Wan-ah nodded, taking his joke seriously.
“People’s opinions don’t matter. If they hate you, we can just hide away in the mountains,” she said, more anxious than usual.
As Tang Mujin pondered how to respond, he sensed another presence outside the door.
“Is Wan-ah in there too? Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” came Dan Seol-young’s voice.
“Of course not. Come in,” Tang Mujin called.
Dan Seol-young slid the door open and entered. She seemed to grasp the situation just from their expressions.
Tang Mujin, trying to lighten the mood, asked, “You have something to say too, Seol-young?”
“Yes,” she replied.
“Go ahead,” Tang Mujin encouraged.
“Just like always, come back with no regrets,” Dan Seol-young said.
Though both women spoke to their departing husband, their messages were different. But there was no right answer; each expressed their feelings in their own way.
Tang Mujin chuckled, prompting Dan Seol-young to ask, “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, really. Just… something,” he said, glancing past them. The door was still open, revealing his three daughters—Tang Yeong, Tang I-ryeong, and Tang Hae-won—toddling around. They stared at him briefly before losing interest and wandering off.
The sight amused him even more. “Ha ha ha!”
Dan Seol-young frowned. “What’s so funny?”
Tang Mujin laughed a bit more before sharing something both women would appreciate. “Once this is over, I’ll stay put in Chengdu.”
“Sure you will. Didn’t you say that last time?” Dan Seol-young replied skeptically.
“This time I mean it. I’ve been running around, helping others, but it only brings more trouble,” Tang Mujin explained.
Dan Seol-young responded dryly, “Finally realized it, huh? People always ask more of those who help them. But I bet you’ll forget that by the time you return.”
Tang Mujin shook his head, determined to prove her wrong.
“It probably won’t even happen. If you think about it, all the traveling I’ve done in recent years was because of this.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
Dan Seol-young said with a playful smile.
Tang Mu-jin led his group away from the Tang family estate, heading north through Hanzhong. Not even the usual petty bandits dared to show themselves. It was only natural; no one in their right mind would block the path of nearly a hundred martial artists.
A few shrewd merchants followed at a safe distance, a smart strategy to avoid any unforeseen trouble.
The only concern was the not-so-friendly atmosphere between the disciples of the Wudang Sect and the Three-Eyed Buddha. Fortunately, the Wudang disciples didn’t openly antagonize the Three-Eyed Buddha. After all, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.
The group arrived at Mount Gongdong without any incidents, and even a bit ahead of schedule. Given the Gongdong Sect’s history of overcoming hardships, one might expect them to be in disarray, but they seemed to be holding up well enough.
People massaged their tired legs and whispered among themselves.
“It feels like something’s about to start.”
“At least the Gongdong Sect seems to be in decent shape.”
Just then, the head of the Gongdong Sect, Master Sang-gwal, came out to greet them.
“Thank you for coming such a long way. Please, come this way.”
Master Sang-gwal seemed to have managed the sect’s internal strife well. His demeanor was subtly different, almost like that of an enlightened monk or a sage on the verge of transcendence. Hyun-gong asked him,
“It seems you’ve found enlightenment.”
“Others have said the same.”
Of course, this didn’t mean Master Sang-gwal had reached the pinnacle of martial arts. His current skill level was just at the entry point of mastery, quite low among the heads of renowned sects. His enlightenment was more about the Dao than martial arts.
“What happened?”
“I simply realized that life is no different from a floating weed.”
“You’ve been through a lot.”
No matter how hard Master Sang-gwal tried, the Gongdong Sect was repeatedly swept by calamities beyond their control. Each time they recovered, another disaster struck. The relentless cycle of adversity forced Master Sang-gwal into a reluctant enlightenment. It was the only way to stay sane.
Tang Mu-jin asked Master Sang-gwal,
“It seems we’re not the first to arrive.”
“Indeed. Those from faraway places arrived earlier. The Moyong family and the Jinju Un family are here, and the Beggars’ Sect arrived a few days ago. There are still plenty of empty buildings, so feel free to settle wherever you like. It’s a silver lining, I suppose.”
The sad joke was that the repeated disasters had left many of the Gongdong Sect’s members dead, allowing them to accommodate many guests from afar.
Tang Mu-jin and Hyun-gong exchanged a bittersweet smile with Master Sang-gwal. He soon disappeared, and the group dispersed to unpack.
Tang Mu-jin and Hyun-gong didn’t choose a room but instead went looking for Hong Geol-gae. With so many members of the Beggars’ Sect around, Hong Geol-gae had to be somewhere.
However, Hyun-gong frowned.
“The atmosphere feels strange.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Look at the expressions on the Beggars’ Sect members.”
Tang Mu-jin observed them. At first glance, nothing seemed amiss.
“I don’t see anything.”
“Look closer.”
Soon, Tang Mu-jin noticed the oddity. The Beggars’ Sect members, who usually gathered in noisy groups, were keeping a distance from each other. Their eyes lacked the usual trust and camaraderie. It wasn’t outright hostility, but there was a strange sense of distance and rivalry.
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. We’ll find out when we talk to Hong Geol-gae.”
Tang Mu-jin and Hyun-gong searched for Hong Geol-gae, planning to surprise him. Before long, they spotted a familiar face, but it wasn’t the one they expected. Instead of the usual Hong Ju-san, it was Cheon-ryeong-gae Hong Gyeon.
”…?”
Though momentarily taken aback, they quickly understood the situation. It made sense for the leader of the Beggars’ Sect to participate in the martial arts tournament rather than the chief.
With playful expressions, Tang Mu-jin and Hyun-gong approached ‘Cheon-ryeong-gae Hong Gyeon.’ Hong Gyeon noticed them and stood up with a welcoming smile.
“Isn’t this the renowned Tang Mu-jin and the Sword of the Dragon, Hyun-gong?”
Unlike the usual Hong Geol-gae, ‘Cheon-ryeong-gae Hong Gyeon’ greeted them with a respectful bow. Publicly, Hong Gyeon wasn’t known to be close to Tang Mu-jin or Hyun-gong, and he was only in his mid-twenties, so his reaction was understandable.
Tang Mu-jin returned the courtesy.
“It’s been a while. The last time we met was in Wuchang.”
It was a simple exchange, but the Beggars’ Sect members around Hong Gyeon puffed up with pride, seeing their leader recognized by such esteemed figures.
More interesting, however, was the reaction of the Beggars’ Sect members gathered a bit further away. They wore openly displeased expressions.
Tang Mu-jin and Hyun-gong focused their hearing. From their left, they overheard one of the Beggars’ Sect members whispering to another.
“Those faction members are so full of themselves, not realizing our Chief is closer to them.”
“They’re just short-sighted. They only care about the number of knots and suck up to the leader.”
Meanwhile, from their right, they heard the whispers of the beggars near Hong Gyeon.
“Those Chief faction members must have hoped our leader would be ignored.”
“Probably. They’re so short-sighted, thinking martial arts is everything.”
“I wonder what faces they’ll make when our leader surpasses the Chief.”
Even if Hong Geol-gae was a bit dense, he couldn’t have missed this atmosphere. Tang Mu-jin looked at Hong Gyeon.
”…”
Perhaps it was just his imagination, but Hong Gyeon seemed to be enjoying the situation.
’…What’s going on?’
As Tang Mu-jin pondered, Hyun-gong sent him a telepathic message.
Tang Mu-jin could vaguely guess Hong Geol-gae’s intentions. It wasn’t unlike the situation with the martial artists at the Tang family estate.
However, Hyun-gong’s response came a bit delayed.
It might just be to have them compete in praising Hong Gyeon and Hong Geol-gae…
No way, even Hong Geol-gae wouldn’t do that.
Tang Mu-jin said, glancing at Hong Gyeon. On second look, Hong Gyeon’s expression seemed almost excessively happy.
Tang Mu-jin’s vision darkened.