Episode 82: Homecoming

“I really thought it would just be you, Master Hongmyeon!”

The owner of Deungseon Pavilion practically prostrated himself, lowering his posture as much as he could.

Even so, he kept a wary eye on Tang Mujin, visibly tensing whenever Tang’s gaze drifted toward the Thousand-Armed Guanyin statue.

It seemed he had realized that Tang Mujin was contemplating whether to polish that wall to a shine.

”…Could you please leave it as it is?”

Tang Mujin looked at the pavilion owner with a peculiar expression. It was surprising to see someone who always seemed so composed, as if the word “calm” was etched on his forehead, now appearing so desperate.

In truth, Tang Mujin didn’t think the pavilion owner had set a trap. After all, he had left the decision to invite the guest up to Tang Mujin.

‘Still, it’s annoying.’

Tang Mujin dragged the pavilion owner down the stairs and shouted to the patrons filling the first floor.

“Everyone, the owner here has decided not to charge for drinks today. Eat and drink to your heart’s content!”

“Really?”

“Can’t you see the owner standing right here next to me?”

The pavilion owner forced the most awkward smile in the world, and the drinkers, upon confirming his presence, erupted in cheers.

Though the pavilion owner would suffer a significant loss today, he seemed relieved that it ended at this.

He gestured to a server to close the doors to prevent new customers from entering, then followed Tang Mujin back up to the third floor.

Tang Mujin, Namgung Myung, and the pavilion owner sat across from each other at a table.

Tang Mujin began the conversation with a question.

“I heard something about a group called Hao Mun. What kind of organization is that?”

“Though it’s called Hao Mun, it’s not really a martial arts sect. People don’t gather there to learn martial arts. It’s more accurately described as Hao Association or Hao Union.”

“So, what do they do?”

“They focus on supporting the lower strata of society… like servers, boatmen, coachmen, porters, and courtesans.”

“Supporting them?”

“Yes. They earn money through tolls from taverns and markets, providing a stepping stone for those in need. They also lend strength when necessary.”

Lending strength, indeed. That white-haired woman, whether she’s Haryeong or Hwayeon, could probably take down a couple of mid-sized sects on her own.

With someone like that watching over them, it’s no wonder no significant sects have established themselves in bustling Junggyeong.

Yet, Tang Mujin had a small doubt.

Wasn’t Junggyeong the kind of place where even beggars had to pay a silver tael to be recognized by the Beggars’ Sect? That didn’t align with the idea of helping the needy.

“Aren’t beggars the lowest of the low in society? Why are the beggars under the bridge excluded?”

“Those beggars lack the will to move forward. Besides, Junggyeong is a relatively prosperous city, so even the beggars under the bridge won’t starve. They stay where they want, in their own way.”

The pavilion owner continued.

“Of course, beggars might want a better life, but Master Haryeong and Master Hongmyeon prioritize those who strive to improve.”

There was a story about a courtesan who was abducted and assaulted by a martial artist, only for Hao Mun to intervene and bring him to justice.

Such incidents happened enough times that harassment or assault of courtesans in Junggyeong significantly decreased.

Tang Mujin pondered over the pavilion owner’s words.

He recalled Hong Geolgae and Ma Jeongegae, who believed that beggars should remain true to their nature, wearing tattered clothes and begging for meals.

Following tradition and being content with one’s situation. Valuing the desire to move forward and actively helping those in difficult circumstances.

Tang Mujin didn’t know which was right. Jumping to conclusions would be presumptuous meddling.

Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind.

‘I wonder if Hong Geolgae would be disappointed.’

Hongmyeon Nogae had ousted Hong Geolgae’s father to take control of Junggyeong. In a way, he was Hong Geolgae’s enemy.

Yet, somehow, Tang Mujin had ended up on friendly terms with Hongmyeon Nogae, forming a small connection.

After a moment of contemplation, Tang Mujin shook his head.

‘Well, it’s not like I could have done anything about it. I couldn’t just storm out of there, nor can I challenge Hongmyeon Nogae to a life-and-death duel on Hong Geolgae’s behalf.’

Deciding to leave his complicated thoughts there, Tang Mujin chose to enjoy the evening, albeit a bit late.

Tang Mujin and Namgung Myung filled their bellies with the newly served warm dishes and descended the stairs.

The drinkers, seemingly ready to party all night, cheered for Tang Mujin and Namgung Myung, and Tang Mujin waved back in response.

The next morning, the two left Junggyeong.

Tang Mujin and Namgung Myung walked briskly. Unlike their previous journeys, there were no merchant caravans or fellow passengers to consider, so they didn’t have to mind anyone else.

They sprinted freely using their light-footed techniques, occasionally stopping to rest and engage in light sparring.

“Come on, try to land a hit this time.”

Each wielding a well-trimmed branch, they unleashed their practiced techniques as if they were holding real swords.

But the result was always the same—Tang Mujin’s defeat. Namgung Myung’s swordsmanship was at least a couple of levels above Tang Mujin’s, making it impossible for him to win. The reputation of being the eldest son of the Namgung family was well-deserved.

“I thought I might win at least once.”

Tang Mujin tossed aside his branch and lay flat on the ground, catching his breath. A cool spring breeze blew, drying the sweat on his skin.

“You’ve only been learning the sword for a year. I’ve been swinging a sword since I was a child. Wouldn’t it be unfair if I lost already?”

“Is that so.”

Could he gain an advantage by using poison along with his sword?

It seemed unlikely. Namgung Myung’s internal energy technique, Daeyeon Divine Art, allowed for free and flexible manipulation of energy, capable of dispelling poison while still matching Tang Mujin.

If he truly wanted to win, it would be wise not to engage Namgung Myung in direct combat.

Like an assassin from the Silent House, he might have a chance by keeping his distance, using poison, and repeatedly throwing hidden weapons.

As they discussed martial arts for a while, Tang Mujin asked Namgung Myung.

“When do you plan to return home?”

“I haven’t set a time. The question is when I’ll become a son my father won’t be ashamed of.”

In Tang Mujin’s view, Namgung Myung seemed capable of earning his father’s approval even now.

But Namgung Myung’s standards were higher than Tang Mujin’s, and Tang Mujin wasn’t in a position to tell him to go home or not.

“What if it takes too long? What if you only return after five or ten years?”

“Well, that could happen.”

“What if they think you’re dead and choose someone else as the next head of the family?”

Namgung Myung nodded lightly at Tang Mujin’s joke.

“That could happen.”

“Huh?”

“Someone else might inherit the position of head.”

“But you’re the eldest son of the Namgung family, aren’t you?”

“The position of head of the Namgung family goes to the most qualified person, not necessarily from father to son. My cousins are talented, and if necessary, my uncle could take over as head.”

It seemed the Namgung family was more pragmatic than expected.

Yet, strangely, Namgung Myung didn’t seem particularly disappointed as he spoke.

“Didn’t you want to become the next head?”

“Well, at first, I was interested in the position, but after leaving home and wandering the world, it all seems rather pointless. Is being the head really that important?”

Though Namgung Myung showed little attachment to the position, he still seemed to want his father’s approval. What did his father mean to him?

With their destination in sight, the conversation seemed to be getting lengthy.

Tang Mujin nudged Namgung Myung to change the mood.

“Come on, let’s get up. We’re almost there.”

Tang Mujin stood up. Below the hill, familiar scenery unfolded.

After a year away, Tang Mujin had returned to Seongdo.

There’s a common misconception among those who have been away from home for a long time. They imagine that upon their return, people will flock to them, making a fuss and welcoming them back.

But that’s a rather self-centered thought. The world keeps turning just fine without one person, and over time, the empty space gradually fills.

However, that doesn’t mean complete indifference.

As Tang Mujin and Namgung Myung walked through the streets of Seongdo, a few familiar faces approached them.

“Hey, aren’t you the son of the Tang family doctor? I heard you went away for something?”

“Oh, yes. That’s right.”

“What was it for again? I think I heard, but I can’t quite remember…”

“I went to learn medicine from a doctor who came from afar.”

“Ah, that’s it? Now that you mention it, my eyes have been blurry lately. Can you fix that too, having learned from a skilled doctor?”

“Why don’t you visit the clinic later? I can’t promise anything, but I can take a look.”

“I went to see your father last winter, but it didn’t really help.”

The conversation about Tang Mujin quickly shifted to the person’s own ailments.

“And who’s the young man standing behind you?”

“His name is Myung. He’s a friend from Anhui Province.”

“Anhui Province? You went that far to learn medicine?”

“I didn’t go to Anhui Province specifically for medicine. It just happened along the way.”

“Hey, did you just come back with your head full of nonsense? The way you’re strutting around with that sword, something’s definitely up…”

The kind of person who loves to point out flaws and lecture others.

“Mujin, I heard you went all the way to Hanam?”

“What? How did you know?”

“There’s that girl from Hanam, remember! Besides Hanam, where else did you go? Did you make it to Shaanxi too?”

“Let’s see… I traveled through Chongqing, Hubei, Anhui, Henan, Shanxi, Shaanxi, Gansu, and even made it to Qinghai.”

“In just a year?”

“Yeah.”

“Mujin, that’s a bit of a tall tale, don’t you think?”

Curious yet cheeky, the kid was just as Mujin remembered from Chengdu.

Before long, the familiar sight of the Seok family forge came into view.

Just as Mujin was thinking he should drop by and say hello to Seok Ji-seung later, their eyes met as Ji-seung stepped out of the forge.

Ji-seung’s eyes widened in surprise, and he shouted back into the forge.

“He’s here! He’s here!”

The forge buzzed with activity, and five soot-covered men burst out.

“He’s here?”

“Which one is it?”

“Bring them both!”

The strangers surrounded Mujin and Namgung Myung without warning. If there had been any hint of hostility, Mujin might have drawn his sword, but their eyes were filled with a strange eagerness instead.

Mujin, thoroughly bewildered, called out to Ji-seung.

“Seok, what’s going on all of a sudden?”

“These folks came to learn the art of blacksmithing. Some left after waiting, but this many stuck around.”

“Why are they looking for me?”

“Last fall, Master Hwangryeong took one of your daggers, and ever since, word’s been spreading among the blacksmiths.”

Hwangryeongja was the head of the Chengdu branch of the Cheongseong sect.

Since the Seok forge, like the Tang family clinic, relied on the Cheongseong sect, it seemed the dagger caught Hwangryeongja’s eye.

Mujin deftly sidestepped the blacksmiths as he spoke.

“I’ll be back soon, just give me a few days. I’ve just returned home after a year, and I can’t be dragged straight to the forge to hammer metal without even setting foot in my house, can I?”

One of them muttered, “Couldn’t that happen?” but the others seemed satisfied with Mujin’s promise.

As they headed back home, Namgung Myung chuckled beside him.

“You’re popular in a way I didn’t expect.”

“I didn’t see this coming either. Anyway, here we are at the Tang family clinic.”

Mujin stood before the modest fence surrounding the clinic.

What once seemed spacious now felt small to Mujin, who had seen the world beyond.

He opened the door to the clinic, and the familiar scent of herbal medicine wafted out.

Inside, he saw his father, now with a few more gray hairs, and Dan Seol-young, organizing herbs beside him.

Both of them looked up, eyes wide with surprise.

With a more mature face than a year ago, Mujin grinned confidently and said,

“I’m back.”