Chapter 36
When Joy Reaches Its Peak, Sorrow Follows (3)
Was it meant to tell him not to worry too much?
The elder, who seemed to be Dharma, conveyed a warm will.
[Because of you, many lives have been saved. Your clarity moved one man’s heart, and through that, countless families will not lose hope for life in the future. That merit is by no means small.]
Yongun immediately understood the words.
They were referring to the favor he had asked of Jin Yeonghui, instead of receiving gold.
“How embarrassing…”
Kang Yongun’s face flushed red. He waved his hands in denial.
“The merit belongs to the one whose heart was moved and who acted with kindness. What credit could I possibly claim? Don’t gild me with such praise.”
Though he meant it sincerely, the presences in the heavens thought otherwise.
[Of course, the one who changed his heart has accumulated merit. But who was it that provided the spark, who turned a selfish heart in an instant, and allowed such merit to be sown?]
[Because of that, we can now tell you these words with ease. The phrase Heungjinbirae—‘When joy reaches its peak, sorrow follows’—belongs to the realm of destiny, to the will of Heaven. Yet now we can pass it to you without hindrance.]
[Do not forget, child. You are one who has slightly opened the firmament and left your trace upon it.]
[Whether approaching misfortune becomes no more than a passing breeze depends wholly on your upright mind and conduct. Always engrave upon your heart the ancestral maxims of the Great Celestial Divine Art of your family.]
And with that, silence.
Though the Heavenly Presences remained, they spoke no more.
Yongun pondered deeply and soon reached a conclusion.
“Hm. It seems a small hardship will soon come my way.”
By nature, it should have been something far greater—some dire calamity.
But now, it would pass like a fleeting wind, something bearable.
“That’s good enough.”
His suspicion soon became reality.
Within only three days—
When he left Chengdu in Sichuan and reached Jintang County, the first superior county on his route—
“You’re the brat who helped the Jin Trading Company, aren’t you?”
“Hand over everything you’ve got—!”
“Die—!”
Enemies, one or two or three at a time, suddenly attacked Yongun.
“So it begins?”
At first, he honestly thought Hong Rugae and Dam O had resumed their schemes.
“Yaaah—ha—!”
Whuuu—shhh! Slash—!
But the killing intent carried by their blades was far too deep.
Though complete strangers, they attacked him as if he were their mortal enemy.
Clang—! Slice.
“Ugh. J-Just you wait—!”
The first man fled after being struck in the side by Yongun’s sword, wielding the Three Talents Sword Art and Swiftness Formula.
The next afternoon—
“Who are you?!”
Shhhk—! Swish!
Ignoring Yongun’s question, two more men launched relentless attacks.
Whoom—! Thud—! Crack!
“Gahh! Damn it—!”
“Arghh! R-Run—!”
They fled only after their ribs and arms were shattered by Tanza Fist and Cotton Palm.
On the third day—
“Grrr—! K-Kill him—!”
The third assailant was stranger still.
He didn’t even try to flee.
Instead, he stretched out his neck as though begging Yongun to take his life.
“What reason is this?!”
He was truly baffled.
“What wrong have I committed, that you strike with such desperate killing intent? And why do you not flee—why beg me to kill you?!”
There was no satisfying answer.
And then—
What? You won’t kill me?
Then fine. I’ll run, as you wish—
As if that was enough for him, the man suddenly fled.
Naturally, Yongun didn’t give chase.
Just as with Jin Jo-yeon before, he had no thought of striking a man’s back as he fled.
“Phew—how strange.”
But in Jintang County, when he stopped to buy jerky and dry rations, something even stranger occurred.
“Oh! Young friend, you’ve just finished training in martial arts and now stepped into the world, haven’t you? Whose sect’s teachings do you follow?”
“Those sharp eyes—you seem rather strong for your age. Heh heh. Where is your hometown?”
“My, what a promising young man. Which great noble clan’s son might you be?”
A group of odd elders approached, probing Yongun insistently.
“Do they take me for a fool?”
Inquiries about one’s master or sect were taboo.
Careless questioning was often taken as provocation, leading to fights.
“And they brazenly pester me about my martial lineage?!”
Seeing that they lacked notable inner strength, Yongun brushed it off with a smile.
But the next day, and the day after that, they returned.
Trying to pry any information from him.
“This is getting stranger by the day.”
Suspicious, Yongun even consulted the Heavenly Presences.
[Heh heh. Trust yourself, child.]
[It is simply time for you to break through another wall.]
[For within you dwell the Great Celestial Divine Art, the Supreme Art, and the powers of both innate and acquired origin.]
Their words were cryptic as always.
Seven days passed this way.
Finally, Yongun reached the outskirts of Paju County in northern Sichuan.
Swish. Swish swish.
With a light breeze, several figures surrounded him front and back.
“So it was you. Definitely not Elder Hong Rugae or Brother Dam O.”
They were masked fiends—some in white, some in ashen gray.
Whuuush—!
With the wind came a foul aura.
They were the very apostate sorcerers who had manipulated Seol Bong-chae and cursed Jin Jo-yeon.
Yongun instantly flared his inner radiance.
As if waiting for this moment, the Heavenly Presences sent down their will.
[The horde of Heaven’s betrayers!]
[Men who abandoned the human path, surrendering even their souls to demonic corruption—by Heaven’s law, they are already the dead.]
Already the dead.
The will of the Heavens was unshakable.
[Strike them down, child.]
[It is the way of Heaven to do so…]
[We are with you—!]
Thump, thump, thump.
Yongun’s heart raced.
He was tense, but not the slightest bit afraid.
“So, these are the apostate sorcerers I saw back then.”
He coolly scanned them and asked:
“What is it you want from me?”
No answer.
Instead—
Bwaahhh—!
With a heavy resonance, one of the gray-masked sorcerers lunged.
“The same style—!”
Yongun felt at ease.
It was the very martial art of the sorcerer whose hand he had clashed against when rescuing Jin Jo-yeon at Mount Seolbong.
“Exactly the same techniques—!”
Though disguised as illusions aiming at his crown point, his inner eye revealed the truth—
The twisted inner energy was stabbing for his throat, heart, and dantian.
Clang—! Clang!
He deflected the strike to his throat with Mount Presses the Summit.
Flowed into Across-the-Sky Army for the next.
And the last blow?
Thump—!
He softly redirected it with Cotton Palm, turning the force aside.
The diverted strike gouged the ground a full yard deep.
Boom—! Dust scattering.
Stung by the humiliation, the gray mask snarled.
“You damn brat—! Haaahhh—!”
He launched a mad onslaught.
Crash! Slashhh!
Each strike carried a killing aura sharp enough to raise every hair on end.
“Left upper—throat. Right lower—waist.”
Fast, but his inner eye saw them plainly.
He parried without fail.
Clang! Bang!
Each defense drained chunks of his Great Celestial Divine Art’s strength, but it was bearable—
Thanks to his Moving Cultivation, which drew faint traces of Heaven and Earth’s innate energy into him as he fought.
“Die, you arrogant brat—!”
The gray mask screamed.
But Yongun crushed every blow, advancing step by steady step.
Clang! Bang! Boom!
“Come as much as you like.”
What could a single gray mask do to him?
To Yongun, it was only helping him restore energy through Moving Cultivation.
[They’re trying to discern your martial lineage through your techniques, child.]
[Heh heh. It’s nothing but arrogance born of thinking you’re already prey. Remember, arrogance always invites ruin—!]
To any onlooker, Yongun seemed closer to death.
Even aside from his current foe, four more gray masks stood ready, and the white masks were far stronger still.
But the Heavenly Presences believed otherwise.
They were certain Yongun would prevail.
Clang! Bang! Boom!
The cacophony shook the air.
One breath, two, three…
The violent clashes tore his clothes at vital points, drawing beads of blood—
Yet he stood firm.
“Tch. What a strange brat.”
The white mask, Baekryeong, frowned deeply.
“His inner strength is so deep he can match Haeryeong at full power, yet his martial arts are nothing but the Three Talents Sword and basic formulas.”
True, he also mixed in crude punches, palms, even wielding his sword like a short stick at times.
“Still, his main art is clearly the Three Talents Sword.”
Thus, Baekryeong concluded—
This boy had no ties to Shaolin, Wudang, or Beggars’ Sect.
“Absurd. Haeryeong’s techniques clearly drain him, but this brat’s inner strength shows no end. Just how much does he have?”
Baekryeong burned with curiosity—unaware that Yongun’s Moving Cultivation replenished him even mid-battle.
“No matter. He’ll die soon anyway. I’ve seen enough. I’ll have the remaining four strike together…”
“Hm?!”
Baekryeong’s eyes narrowed.
He sensed several powerful auras rushing in from afar.
“Damn—! Meddlers!”
Everything changed.
“We must kill him quickly and withdraw. The righteous sects must not discover us yet.”
He gave sharp orders:
“All Haeryeong, attack at once! I’ll handle the brat. Samryeong, intercept the intruders from the south—!”
Swishhh—!
The four gray masks leapt into motion, using mad footwork to block the distant arrivals.
“We’ll meet again, brat—!”
Crash—!
Samryeong struck hard to halt Yongun, then withdrew to join the others against the newcomers.
“Where do you think you’re going—huh?!”
Yongun tried to pursue, but staggered, sucking in a sharp breath.
“You wretch—!”
Baekryeong himself came charging.
“I’ll deal with you personally. Die—!”
Overwhelming inner strength surged forth, condensed into a sphere so thick it was nearly visible.
Bwooom—! Crackle—!
It burst overhead and rained down like a storm.
Boommmm!
Right above his head.
“…!”
Yongun’s eyes widened.
Like a lamp in the wind.
“Kang Daehyup—!”
A desperate cry rang out.
It was Jin Jo-yeon, who had journeyed with him from Mount Seolbong to the Jin household.
She had arrived—
Together with his only sworn friend, Tang Sobaek, and Jin family retainer Nam Goe Jonggyeong.
