Chapter – 57
Hwa Cheongji was extremely busy preparing for the Dragon–Phoenix Assembly finals, now just a day away.
Yong Sobaek had also come out to inspect things.
Someone greeted him cheerfully.
“Guild Master!”
When he turned around, it was a familiar face.
It was Moyong Seong, head of the Moyong Clan, one of the five great families, who—alongside Shaolin—had produced a finalist.
He clasped his hands together with an easy smile.
“So you’ve come out.”
“Ah, yes. You’ve arrived.”
Despite the surrounding gazes, the gray-haired Moyong Seong bowed deeply in courtesy.
“That day, my stomach wasn’t well, so I couldn’t even touch the horse-milk wine. As an apology, after the Imperial Forest Gathering, I’ll host you somewhere nice.”
Yong Sobaek burst into hearty laughter.
“No need. What would a beggar do at a fancy place? Thanks to you, my belly was full of liquor, so it worked out fine.”
“Haha. You haven’t changed.”
“How’s the preparation for the finals going?”
Moyong Seong smiled lightly.
“What preparation is there to speak of? Just reaching this point is more than enough.”
Yong Sobaek patted his shoulder.
“That’s right. If you empty your heart, good results will follow.”
“Thank you.”
With a polite farewell, Moyong Seong departed.
As Yong Sobaek watched him leave with a smile, his expression suddenly turned cold.
Taechung-hwan, who had been mixed in among the laborers, straightened his body.
『It’s hard to believe. That the head of one of the Five Great Families is working with the murderer.』
Yong Sobaek responded via voice transmission.
『No. He’s certainly suspicious. I felt it before, but he wasn’t that warm of a man.』
His thoughts drifted back to when he had visited the sects of the semifinalists.
—
“Haha! It’s been a long time, Elder Ilgeol. I hope you’ve been well.”
“You’ve brightened up quite a bit since I last saw you.”
“Well, these are the times, aren’t they? We’re the only one among the Five Great Families to produce a semifinalist.”
—
『I thought he was just carried away for a moment, but my intuition feels off. More than anything, didn’t that fellow—Yeodong-wan or Yeodong-pal—mention the Moyong name?』
『That is true, but…』
Yong Sobaek tapped his finger against his thigh.
At present, Chang’an housed himself—one of the Ten Supremes—along with Byeokyeongja, head of Mount Qingcheng, and Musung, vice-abbot of Shaolin.
As for the lunatic who cut off his own ring finger just to claim faster swordsmanship—who knew where he’d vanished to.
But with three Supremes present, it would be safe to assume the murderer couldn’t escape.
Not to mention the monstrous child from Jangbaek-dong.
Four masters at the Extreme Realm.
And yet, questions kept arising.
Right now, Chang’an was essentially the very heart of the orthodox martial world.
The enemy would certainly know that.
So what exactly was their true objective, even after pulling in the Moyong Clan?
Mutual destruction?
Even that seemed highly unlikely.
No matter that the Moyong Clan was one of the Five Great Families—compared to everyone gathered in Chang’an, they were little more than fireflies before the sun.
Judging by what had been revealed at the Tang Clan, the enemy’s ultimate goal was to violate non-aggression—or to tear apart mutual treaties.
But compared to the gravity of that goal, their preparations felt far too meager.
Had they lost Tang Clan poison—capable of letting a few fight many—because of Kang Yu, and were now simply forcing their original plan through recklessly?
If that were the case, it would be preferable…
But something still felt wrong.
Yong Sobaek opened his eyes.
『Is the brat still shut inside, refusing to come out?』
『Yes.』
『……』
—
“Was he strong?”
“He was. Stronger than my benefactor.”
—
Yong Sobaek rubbed his brow.
『This is driving me insane.』
『Pardon?』
『I hate to admit it, but maybe it’s age. My head doesn’t work like it used to. There’s something unsettling, but I can’t grasp it, and that makes it unbearable.』
『If so, why not discuss it with your sworn brother?』
『Have you seen it?』
『Seen what?』
『That look on his face. Have you ever seen him that serious? He’s clearly training some hidden trump card. Interrupting him would only get in the way.』
『A trump card?』
Yong Sobaek sighed.
『Yes. As if he only has one.』
『…?』
Unable to explain himself, Yong Sobaek paced restlessly beneath the arena.
After a long while, he stopped.
『I can’t leave it be. I’ve never lost by being overly prepared in my life. I need to see him—even if only briefly.』
『Then I’ll come as well—』
『Tomorrow is the decisive day. You keep tracing their movements.』
Leaving Taechung-hwan behind, Yong Sobaek departed Hwa Cheongji.
Soon, he appeared outside the city walls.
In front of the inn where Kang Yu was staying.
Suppressing his footsteps, he quietly sensed the presence beyond the door.
—
“Was he strong?”
—
That ever-cheerful brat had carried an unusually solemn air back then.
And he was from Jangbaek-dong.
He must have been preparing the peerless martial arts of Jangbaek-dong.
“….”
Yong Sobaek hesitated, his hand hovering near the door before slowly withdrawing.
It wouldn’t be right to interrupt a child in the midst of crucial training just because of a bad feeling.
After pacing around for a while, he finally turned to leave—
Grrrnnn.
“….”
Yong Sobaek’s ears perked up.
Grrrnnn.
“….”
Grr—
Yong Sobaek kicked the door open.
“You rotten brat! The situation’s this dire and you’re sprawled out sleeping!?”
Startled awake, Kang Yu rubbed his eyes.
“Yaaawn… Grandpa, what brings you here?”
“You just dozed off for a moment, right?”
“What?”
“You trained nonstop for four days and just closed your eyes for a bit, right? Right?”
Kang Yu yawned wide.
“No? I’ve been sleeping the whole time since you left.”
“…Four days straight?”
“Yes.”
Yong Sobaek struck him in a flash.
“Ow! Why’d you hit me!?”
“You little—what did you say!? You’ve been sleeping the whole time!?”
Kang Yu furiously rubbed his head.
“Ugh! I was exhausted! Ever since leaving the village, I barely slept at all!”
“What?”
“Except for briefly at the Tang Clan, I didn’t sleep even once! And even then I got knocked out after eating something that old lady told me not to! How am I supposed to do anything without sleep!?”
Yong Sobaek’s glare softened slightly.
“You haven’t slept since leaving the village? What are you talking about?”
“Exactly what I said.”
“When did you leave the village?”
“Hmm. A little over three months ago?”
Yong Sobaek frowned.
“Three months without sleep? That’s impossible.”
“Why not?”
Kang Yu counted on his fingers.
“After leaving the village, I toured Jilin, fought some weird martial artist, met my master, trained all night, got sent straight to the Namgung Clan, searched for the clan head, helped rebuild their burned house all night, then kept switching carriages nonstop before meeting the Pill Master, rushed to Sichuan without sleeping, handled stuff at the Tang Clan, came straight to Chang’an, and here I’ve been helping Dong-wan every dawn.”
“…You’re telling me you truly didn’t sleep for three months?”
“I said I slept briefly at the Tang Clan! I just passed out after eating forbidden food.”
“……”
Yong Sobaek stared at him.
This child was not the type to lie about something like this.
Which meant he truly hadn’t slept.
Even masters who transcended ordinary needs still required some rest.
The human body was built that way.
Even those at the Extreme Realm needed at least an hour of sleep daily.
Yet this child had endured nearly three months.
“Then you fought Byeokyeongja and me… without any sleep?”
“Byeokyeongja? Is that food?”
“……”
Yong Sobaek slipped his hand into his waistband.
He felt the rough joints of the temporarily repaired Beggar Staff.
He’d shattered it while fighting—after all that, without sleep.
He had known the child was from Jangbaek-dong.
But Kang Yu hadn’t fought seriously.
He’d relied purely on brute combat—never using a single terrifying Jangbaek-dong technique.
What would have happened if the child had fought at full strength… well-rested?
“Aahh… I feel refreshed.”
“….”
Despite greasy hair and a sloppy face, his eyes were different.
Once merely clear, now they carried an almost dizzying brilliance.
Until now, he hadn’t been normal.
And yet he had endured all of it.
A chill ran down Yong Sobaek’s spine.
“What in the world are you…?”
“Old man Shin was right. Sleep really is the best medicine.”
In Jangbaek-dong, only one could be called “Old Man Shin”—
Shin Guk-yong, the Medical Immortal.
“Aaaaah.”
Stretching deeply, Kang Yu finally asked,
“So why did you come all of a sudden?”
“….”
Yong Sobaek explained his doubts from Hwa Cheongji.
Mainly, that the enemy’s preparations seemed too weak for their ambition.
Kang Yu yawned again.
“They’re probably just ridiculously strong.”
“That’s not worth considering. You know we’re not the only ones involved.”
“I know. A perfect chance to sell our services to the state.”
“…Sell?”
“And besides, the enemy’s real goal is elsewhere. That’s why the Pill Master left.”
Yong Sobaek’s eyes widened.
“Y-you know where Wi Yeon is?”
“I asked him to.”
“Asked him to what!?”
“Trade secret.”
“You little—what’s with this business talk!?”
“Last time we were on the same boat, but still competitors, remember?”
“What!?”
Kang Yu stood up.
“Anyway, this side is ours to handle. I’ve been preparing something too.”
“Preparing what?”
Kang Yu clenched and unclenched his fist.
“Not yet. It works sometimes and sometimes not.”
Then he clenched one fist.
“When it works, I’ll tell you.”
“……”
A damp, gloomy underground chamber.
Moyong Min, a finalist of the Dragon–Phoenix Assembly, forced a pill into Hyehwa’s mouth as she lay bound in shackles.
“It’s been four days. If they stay quiet until the finals, tomorrow’s pill will complete the antidote.”
Hyehwa lifted her battered head.
“Why keep me alive? Killing me would change nothing.”
Moyong Min turned away indifferently.
“We are not like you. If you keep faith, so will we.”
“….”
He then moved to a corner of the chamber, stopping before a small cot.
A man lay there, his entire face wrapped in cloth.
As always, Moyong Min removed the blood-soaked bandages and carefully applied numbing powder to the grotesquely damaged muscles.
Then, as usual, he left the chamber.
Silence followed.
“…I’m sorry.”
The voice echoed through the chamber.
Hyehwa’s eyes snapped toward the cot.
She knew that voice.
—
“Play me one song.”
—
The voice of the bamboo-hatted man who had visited her daily for a month.
Her eyes trembled.
“So it really was you. What is all this?”
“….”
No answer came, but her suspicion was confirmed.
The bamboo-hatted man—who until five days ago had competed as Moyong Min—had not been deceived.
He had willingly given up his face.
“For what reason would you go this far…?”
After a pause, the bandages—already reddening—shifted.
“You already know.”
“I do?”
Hyehwa’s eyes flickered.
She recalled the conversation from the only night she had heard his voice.
—
“Play me one song.”
“What kind…?”
“One about resolve. Or determination. Anything like that.”
—
She had played a song inspired by the tale from The Biographies of Fan Ju and Cai Ze.
His voice echoed again.
“A gentleman’s revenge may take ten years, yet it is never too late.”
“My revenge took twenty.”
“…Twenty years?”
“Many died. Family. Friends. Innocents. Even children.”
Hyehwa lowered her gaze.
A vengeance nurtured for twenty years could only mean—
Her eyes widened.
“Y-you couldn’t be…!”
“Tomorrow.”
His familiar voice brimmed with joy.
“Tomorrow, the heavens will be set right.”
