Chapter 329

When Song Ilseom’s identity was revealed, everyone was left utterly astonished.

Hyuk Mujin had admired the Murim even before becoming part of the Taiyuan Jin Family, so of course he knew the stories about him. Even Cheongpung pretended to know him, claiming that the Sword Saint had told him about Song Ilseom.

“Mmph-mmph. Grandpa said the Escort King was a good man. Gulp. He said so.”

“…I know. Swallow everything before you talk. Please.”

“Yes! Mmph-mmph.”

If even Cheongpung knew about him, the other two went without saying.

Ju Hwaran, the Escort King’s granddaughter, was staring at the jade hairpin with trembling eyes, while Gung Gibang was so excited that he sprayed the contents of his mouth in every direction.

“Th-the Guangdong Chen Family!”

Tududududuk!

Song Ilseom knocked away a dozen or so grains of rice with his chopsticks and replied,

“As I said, the Guangdong Chen Family ceased to exist long ago. By the way, can you do something about all that flying out of your mouth?”

“My Master also told me about the Escort King’s Ten-Thousand-Mile Escorts. But to think the child in that story was you!”

“Did you listen with your nose? That child was my father. And stop spitting everywhere. It’s disgusting.”

Swish! Tududududuk!

Wow. He knocked all of those away.

Song Ilseom once again whipped his chopsticks through the air like lightning, then asked me,

“Is this beggar really the Successor Beggar of the Beggars’ Sect?”

“He is, even if he doesn’t look like it. Why?”

“A Rain of Ten Thousand Flowers keeps pouring from his mouth. I wondered if he might be a disciple of the Sichuan Tang Clan.”

“Hmm. Probably not.”

While we were having that conversation, Ju Hwaran, who had been staring blankly at the jade hairpin, finally spoke.

“I heard it from my father. He said my grandfather remained curious about what had become of the Guangdong Chen Family until the very end. But he was never able to find them…”

“My grandmother carried that regret as well. She had to flee with my father, who was still a baby, without leaving behind even a single letter.”

“Why did they suddenly disappear?”

“Because it was dangerous. The Guangdong Chen Family’s martial arts were all lost when the family was burned to the ground, but apparently people refused to believe that.”

“But if they were within the territory of the orthodox factions…”

“Greed does not discriminate between members of orthodox factions and practitioners of demonic, heterodox arts. Some of those seeking the Guangdong Chen Family’s Peak martial arts were people even the Escort King’s name couldn’t deter.”

A time of chaos.

When I thought of those words, I felt as if I could understand what the mother and child must have gone through back then.

In turbulent times, the rules between people crumble. Everyone follows their instincts, and morality inevitably grows faint.

The mother had fled to protect her child from the greed of others. Without telling anyone.

“My grandmother was a woman who couldn’t stand against even a Third Rate swordsman, but she was wiser than ten Peak masters combined.”

After a brief silence, Song Ilseom added,

“Of course, she couldn’t escape birth, aging, sickness, and death.”

“Then…”

“She died of an illness when I was ten. As she gave me this jade hairpin, she told me everything that had happened. It was an astonishing story—the first I had ever heard of it.”

Despite his blunt appearance, Song Ilseom was rather talented at telling a story.

The one thing I had been curious about was his parents. But after hearing that he had wandered the streets following his grandmother’s death, there was no need to ask.

Unfortunately, it was clear that both of them had died young.

And as soon as one question disappeared, another took its place.

“Then how did you develop that level of skill? Didn’t you say the Guangdong Chen Family’s martial arts were lost as well?”

Song Ilseom’s answer was simple.

“On the battlefield.”

“Did you live as a wandering martial artist?”

“I had no talent for begging. More people beat me because they found my face and expression unpleasant than those who tossed me an iron coin.”

Gung Gibang, who had been listening quietly, nodded emphatically as if he could relate.

“There’s a proper way to beg. The most important things for a beggar are a face and expression that inspire pity, but when you’re as handsome as Young Hero Song or me, even earning a few coins is difficult. I went hungry plenty of days because of that.”

Song Ilseom’s face hardened.

“Successor Beggar, that remark is deeply offensive. I would appreciate it if you didn’t insult me.”

“Why? Did you ever see my face when I was young? I’m telling you, without exaggeration, Song Yu would have wept at the sight of me.”¹

“Song Yu would cry?”

Song Ilseom stared intently at Gung Gibang’s face, which looked like something out of a Picasso masterpiece.

“With that face, he might. If you run into me at night, stay far away. If I suddenly came face-to-face with you, I might cut you by mistake.”

Song Ilseom looked as if he were seriously considering whether to cut him down on the spot, then continued his story.

“In any case, I was hopeless at begging, and I had no decent work either. After going hungry for more than three days, the sky began to look yellow. I decided that becoming a sword boy would be better than starving to death.”

“A sword boy? The kind who carries someone’s sword?”

“That’s right.”

“Isn’t that something people with money hire? They don’t want to bother carrying their own swords, so they make someone else do it.”

“Do you think people with money would hire some beggar brat whose origins they didn’t even know?”

“Fair point.”

“Surprisingly, wandering martial artists hire the most sword boys. Normally, they make them handle all kinds of odd jobs. When things get dangerous, they use them as meat shields.”

I thought that sounded like a sweet part-time job. Turns out it was a job on the Hell Continent.

“It wasn’t a particularly comfortable or pleasant experience.”

Song Ilseom calmly listed the events of his past.

Normally, he had to serve wandering martial artists while enduring all kinds of abuse and violence. When arrows rained down, he had to collect the weapons left on the battlefield.

When the wandering martial artist abandoned him and fled because he was too busy saving his own life, Song Ilseom experienced nothing short of hell.

“I hid among piles of corpses for four days. When I barely made it out alive and went looking for the wandering martial artist, the first thing he did was search for the sword he had entrusted to me.”

“Wow. What a crazy bastard.”

“Fortunately, the two swords I was carrying were safe. Even while fleeing, I held on to them desperately.”

“…Wow. You really are a crazy bastard.”

“I wasn’t as crazy as he was. He started spouting nonsense about how he had originally entrusted me with three swords, then told me to get the hell out of there if I didn’t want to die like a dog. Of course, he didn’t give me a single coin for the year I had worked for him.”

Song Ilseom brushed back his fallen bangs and muttered,

“I was pissed.”

Naturally, instead of filing a complaint with the labor authorities, he chose a faster solution.

“There happened to be two swords. I picked one up. It was heavy.”

“You won.”

“I killed him.”

Song Ilseom lightly corrected me and spun his chopsticks around.

“It wasn’t very difficult. I had always watched his martial arts, and they were predictable. I dodged ten times and stabbed him once, like following a prearranged exchange. He fell.”

Gulp.

Hyuk Mujin swallowed nervously and asked,

“How old were you then?”

“Twelve? Thirteen? I don’t remember clearly, but somewhere around that age.”

“Th-then your opponent…”

“He was a lousy Third Rate wandering martial artist. If he’d been First Rate, do you think I’d have been crazy enough to take him on?”

No, the fact that a kid who hadn’t even graduated elementary school attacked a martial artist in the first place seems insane.

What was I doing at that age?

I didn’t know. I was probably playing while picking my nose or something.

This guy’s a gifted bastard too.

There were countless martial sects and families throughout the world.

If the Nine Sects and One Gang and the Five Great Families were the first tier, there had to be a second tier as well.

According to what Jeok Cheongang had casually told me, the Guangdong Chen Family had been one of those.

Is this what they mean when they say the blood of a martial family can’t be hidden?

To reach that level without the family’s secret martial arts…

Just as I was marveling at the thought that Song Ilseom really was something special, Gung Gibang, who had been silent for a while, suddenly stared at him in shock.

“Could you be the Soul-Chasing Guest?”

“That’s what they called me ten years ago. By the way, is your mouth a bottomless jar? How the hell are you still spitting out rice after all this time?”

“Hah. I never imagined that famous Soul-Chasing Guest would be a young man around my age.”

The Soul-Chasing Guest. That seemed to be Song Ilseom’s sobriquet.

He must have been rather famous, because Ju Hwaran’s eyes also grew round.

“You’re the Soul-Chasing Guest who won a hundred life-and-death duels?”

“Exactly one hundred and two. It’s all hollow fame, so there’s no need to make a fuss. There are already two people here who are younger and more impressive than me.”

Cheongpung, who had somehow finished off most of the food, answered with a cheerful grin.

“No, you’re amazing too, Young Hero Song.”

I nodded as well.

“He’s strong. Just weaker than me.”

“…Are you two making fun of me?”

Cheongpung slurped down something that looked like cinnamon punch and said,

“No teasin’ you!”

“He says he isn’t teasing you.”

Song Ilseom’s gaze shifted toward me after my kind translation.

“What about you?”

“I am teasing you.”

“…Is there no alcohol? I feel like having a drink after all this time.”

The meal, which had begun in the early evening, ended only when midnight was drawing near.

Song Ilseom had left the fine liquor untouched and repeatedly emptied cups of strong liquor instead. He was now resting his head on the table, while Ju Hwaran, who had been sipping hers, had bright red cheeks.

And then…

It’s really time to leave now.

When I stood up, Gung Gibang used his internal energy to drive away his drunkenness, while Hyuk Mujin hoisted Cheongpung onto his back. Cheongpung was already completely drunk and snoring softly.

“We’ve imposed on you, Young Lady Ju.”

“You’re leaving already?”

“I’d like to stay longer, but I don’t think I can this time.”

“Is that so?”

Her intoxicated eyes curved like half-moons.

Her steps were light, almost as if she were dancing. Clear dimples appeared in her cheeks. It seemed that her drunken habit was laughter.

“Would you like to take a walk?”

“Pardon?”

“Let’s walk. The flowers in the garden have just bloomed.”

“Oh. Congratulations. They must be pretty.”

A burst of laughter escaped her.

Before I could ask why she was laughing, Ju Hwaran giggled and stepped outside.

I followed behind her without thinking, then suddenly stopped and turned around.

“You two aren’t coming?”

“…Is he human?”

“Worse than a beggar. A beggar of a man. Worse than a beggar.”

“What the hell? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s how I feel.”

“That’s how I feel.”

“Let’s go. Young Lady Ju said the flowers have bloomed in the garden. We can look around together and leave right afterward. The timing will be perfect—”

My words were cut off by the sighs of Gung Gibang and Hyuk Mujin.

The two men shook their heads with expressions of utter horror and spoke in turn.

“I need to take a dump. Where’s the latrine?”

“Me too. We’ll take turns going back and forth, so take your time looking around.”

“…Uh. Sure.”

What’s wrong with those two? Is their stomachache really that bad? Their expressions are practically demonic today.

I must have imagined the contempt and fury in their eyes.

I hurried outside and began walking through the garden beside Ju Hwaran, who had been waiting for me.

“Great Hero Jin is, how should I put it, a really interesting person.”

“Am I?”

“Yes. You can be a little exasperating sometimes, but… well, in a way, that’s a strength too.”

“…?”

What is this? Is she insulting me indirectly?

At my bewildered expression, the smile around Ju Hwaran’s lips deepened.

“I don’t know how long it’s been since I last laughed out loud. It feels like it’s been more than half a year.”

“Hmm? Didn’t you laugh last time too? When we passed Black Stone Mountain?”

“Oh. Did I?”

“Maybe you just don’t remember. That makes twice in three days.”

“I wonder. Did that really happen?”

Ju Hwaran mumbled in a slightly airy voice, then suddenly pointed toward the sky.

“Great Hero Jin, can you see that?”

“Of course. It’s a full moon.”

“The moon is especially bright tonight.”

“Did you know why the moon is bright, Young Lady Ju? It’s because it reflects light from the sun.”

“Pardon?”

“No, I’m serious. It’s not some ridiculous story. It’s a famous result of scientific research… No, I heard it from a scholar. Where was it? That’s right, somewhere around the imperial palace.”

Another little laugh slipped from her lips.

“No, it really is true…”

“All right. I’ll believe you. By the way, Great Hero Jin.”

“Yes?”

“This.”

To me, still feeling wronged, Ju Hwaran suddenly held something out.

It was a solid, elongated wooden case, one I had already seen at the teahouse.

“Could this be…”

“That’s right. It’s Hundred-Year-Old Snow Ginseng.”

“…”

“It’s a small gift compared to what you did for us, but would you accept it? So that my heart can be a little more at ease.”

I silently looked back and forth between Ju Hwaran and the wooden case.

Should I refuse? Should I accept it? Should I refuse…

After several rounds of internal conflict, I finally nodded.

“I’ll accept it gratefully. Thank you.”

Ju Hwaran smiled brightly.

Her smile was brighter than the moon hanging in the sky.

We walked for about fifteen minutes, chatting about trivial things, until the flowers lining both sides of the path gradually began to thin.

Ju Hwaran’s steps slowed as well.

“Great Hero Jin.”

“Yes, Young Lady Ju?”

“Do you think I can do well?”

Her sudden voice was damp and desolate.

Perhaps this was why she had drunk.

But there were times like this. Days when nothing could suppress your emotions. Moments when feelings you had desperately held back surged over the brim.

“Do you really think I can do well?”

I suddenly opened my mouth.

“It’s okay if you can’t.”

“…”

It’s okay. I understand how you feel right now. Hang in there.

There were times when every word of comfort sounded hollow. Of course she wasn’t okay, and someone standing a step away could never understand everything the other person was going through. Hearing someone tell you to stay strong didn’t suddenly fill you with strength.

I didn’t offer Ju Hwaran some clumsy consolation today because she was already suffering enough.

“Young Lady Ju, you’re only human too. It’s okay if you don’t do well, and it’s okay not to force yourself to stay strong.”

She only had to continue forward as she had been, following the current as it flowed.

One step at a time, matching her own steps instead of someone else’s.

“Wouldn’t that be enough?”

Ju Hwaran’s tear-filled eyes looked up at me.

Then they curved like half-moons.

Thump!

I kicked off the ground.

The scenery fell away, and the earth blurred past beneath me.

The voices of Ju Hwaran and the people of the Yongbong Escort Bureau gradually faded, then abruptly disappeared.

Only then did the two guys who had been watching my reaction speak.

“Young Lady Ju’s eyes looked swollen earlier…”

“Do you think she cried? No, no way. She couldn’t have.”

They noticed that carefully even in the dark.

When I didn’t answer, Hyuk Mujin pointed at the bulge across my chest and asked,

“But what is that?”

“Oh, this?”

I forgot to put it in my inventory.

I gave a quiet laugh, remembering someone’s lie.

“Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng.”

“Whaaat?”

“Huh?”