Chapter 444

The Zhuge Clan.

It was a famous family bound to appear at least once in every modern wuxia¹ novel.

Not a single character with the surname Zhuge was ever stupid, and none of them were conspicuously strong, either.

They were supposedly one of Murim’s great families, yet martial arts seemed more like their minor than their major.

That made sense. The Zhuge Clan’s true strength came not from their bodies, but from their minds.

They were a family of wise men versed in a broad range of scholarship, strategy, and mechanisms and formations.

As a result, the world called them the Divine Mechanism Zhuge, and in Murim, they handled practically every role that required brains.

If the strategist of the Murim Alliance in a novel you were reading didn’t have a name that began with Zhuge, it almost felt wrong.

Perhaps that image of the Zhuge Clan had been lodged so firmly in my mind that seeing these martial artists stride toward us without hesitation felt strangely unfamiliar.

But unfamiliarity wasn’t the only emotion I felt.

Clack-clack-clack-clack!

The Zhuge Clan’s martial artists lined up on either side of the road like iron towers. A lone figure slowly walked between them.

The slender young man wore robes so white they were almost blinding.

“The stars shone unusually bright last night. It seems they were heralding the arrival of honored guests. I am the Zhuge Clan’s Lesser Family Head…”

Delighted, I thrust a hand into the air and shouted.

“Galgyun!”

“Not ‘Galgyun’… My name is Zhuge Gyun.”

A heavy silence fell.

The Zhuge Clan’s martial artists, who still had no idea who I was, looked at me as if I were some kind of madman. Jeok Cheongang looked at me with a hint of confusion.

“You know this fellow?”

“Yes. I met him at the Star-Array Grand Banquet last time. But this is the first I’ve heard that he’s the Zhuge Clan’s Lesser Family Head.”

“Even someone like you has friends?”

“He’s not my friend. I just call them the Three Idiots…”

“Ahem! Ahem-ahem!”

One of the Three Idiots I had met at the Star-Array Grand Banquet—the Divine Marvel Dragon Zhuge Gyun—hurriedly cleared his throat and cut me off.

Before I could say anything, he turned toward Jeok Cheongang and offered his greetings.

“Zhuge Gyun, a newcomer to Murim, pays his respects to Senior.”

Jeok Cheongang looked Zhuge Gyun up and down, then tossed out a question.

“What relation are you to Gonghu?”

“Pardon?”

“I mean the Fan-Wisdom King, Zhuge Gonghu. The bastard who served as the Murim Alliance’s chief strategist during the Great Faction War.”

I had heard both the title and the name of the Fan-Wisdom King Zhuge Gonghu.

He had served as the mind of the Murim Alliance during the Great Faction War and had been the foremost contributor to turning around the grim course of the war.

That was one reason he had been hailed as one of the Ten Kings alongside the other Supreme Peak masters.

And he calls a man like that a bastard.

I had seen Jeok Cheongang act this way so many times that I was used to it, but to everyone else, it must have been a whole new world.

Jin Wikyung swallowed hard, while the Zhuge Clan’s martial artists stood with their mouths hanging open, doubting their own ears.

Of course, our Fire King Jeok Cheongang didn’t care about any of that. Ramming straight into things with blazing force was practically the Fire Gate Clan’s trademark.

“Well? Why aren’t you answering?”

His expression was unpleasant enough already, but when he actually frowned, he looked like a murderous demon.

Even Zhuge Gyun—a lunatic who was no slouch himself—was so flustered that he stammered.

“M-my great-grandfather.”

“Is that so? No wonder you look a little like him. You look like you’ve got a decent head on your shoulders. Like you’ve got no manners, either.”

“…!”

Now that was imposing.

Since Jeok Cheongang was a man from two generations ago who had lived well past a hundred, even the elders of most prestigious clans and sects couldn’t dare object when he called them, “Hey,” “you,” or “bastard.”

He chewed people up with martial arts and digested them with seniority. He was Murim’s very own Bodhidharma skull water.²

As the atmosphere grew increasingly awkward, I gave Jeok Cheongang a light poke in the side.

“Come on. That’s enough.”

“What? Can’t this old man say even that much?”

“Even so, he passed away ten years ago…”

“What do these greenhorns know? If this old man had died, Zhuge Gonghu would have done the same. He and I have been calling each other bastard for years.”

“…”

“…”

Not brotherly terms. Bastardly terms.

While everyone flinched once again at his innovative choice of words, Jin Wikyung was the first to recover and address Zhuge Gyun.

“Thank you for the Zhuge Clan’s hospitality.”

A true professional was a true professional. At the Star-Array Grand Banquet, Zhuge Gyun had seemed like a man with a screw loose, but as the Lesser Family Head of his clan, he responded appropriately.

“Think nothing of it. I hope your journey here was not too uncomfortable.”

“If a person is comfortable in both body and mind, how can he call himself a martial artist—”

“It was damn uncomfortable. How dare you make this old man come all the way here? I’ll hear the reason, and if it’s nothing important, then a Flame Divine Palm will…”

“Oh, seriously! I said that’s enough!”

“You dare grab this old man’s sleeve! Let go, you all-brawn bastard!”

While I tried to restrain Jeok Cheongang, who had suddenly flown off the handle, Jin Wikyung hurriedly continued.

“I know this is rude, but let’s put the pointless conversation aside and hurry. Please, let’s hurry.”

“A wise decision. Zhuge Wuhou,³ who laid the foundations of our family, would have slapped his feather fan down and agreed.”

The government troops and Zhuge Clan martial artists were the first to clear a path at the dramatic show of unity between the two Lesser Family Heads. The river bandits from the Water Dragon Stronghold who had joined our party followed behind them.

As we moved, I felt countless wary gazes following us and heard the whispers all around.

What the hell is going on?

Was this why Jin Wikyung had said we needed to pass through Hubei?

I didn’t have long to wonder. The moment we climbed into the carriage, Mungyeong quietly spoke.

“It seems we’re one person short.”

“What?”

I looked around and only then noticed that someone was missing.

“Wait. Where did he go?”

“Over here, Benefactor!”

“…?”

When the hell had that bastard gotten over there?

Cheongpung was standing in front of a street stall that had not yet been folded, stuffing himself with freshly steamed fish. He raised one hand high and shouted.

“I’ll finish eating and come!”

“Stop talking bullshit and get your ass over here!”

Please.

Just for one day, let’s live like human beings. Like human beings.

With my heart in tatters, the carriage began to move.

Even as it raced down the well-kept road and disappeared into the distance, the people’s gazes clung to us like shadows.

Unlike Emei, Qingcheng, and the Tang Clan—the prestigious powers of Sichuan Province—which had established their bases on mountains or in remote areas, the Zhuge Clan occupied the heart of a broad thoroughfare.

Just the people passing outside the carriage window numbered well over several hundred.

Their faces were deeply tanned, and whenever they spotted the carriage bearing the Zhuge Clan’s emblem, they bowed their heads.

“Why are there so many people here?”

Zhuge Gyun, who sat across from me, answered my mutter.

“The Yangtze is Hubei’s lifeline. It makes the vast surrounding lands fertile, so people naturally gather here. And since every year brings a plentiful harvest, smiles never leave their faces.”

“Really? The people I saw at the ferry about one shichen⁴ ago looked like their smiles had left forever.”

“That…”

Zhuge Gyun fell silent and looked away, wearing a grave expression that didn’t suit him.

“I’ll tell you after we reach the family compound.”

Something must have happened. At the Star-Array Grand Banquet, he had been an endless fountain of nonsense, so it was telling that even he looked like this now.

Given the mood, I didn’t press him and turned toward the window.

Something definitely feels wrong.

And the more time passed, the more that suspicion deepened.

The government troops, who were usually so lax, had their eyes wide open as they checked people’s hopae⁵ at various points, while martial artists in ordinary clothes hid among the commoners.

The martial prowess I briefly sensed from them as we passed was far from low. Dark Heaven immediately came to mind, but Jeok Cheongang’s Sound Transmission cleared up the matter a moment later.

—They’re Zhuge Clan people. For some reason, they’re hiding their identities and even moving covertly.

They’re going this far in what’s practically their own front yard?

I suddenly remembered what had happened a few days earlier and asked,

—Old Master, didn’t you hear anything?

—About what?

—You know. You left with my eldest brother for a while last time.

—I did.

—Didn’t you hear why we had to come to Hubei then? Something about Wudang or the Zhuge Clan?

Jeok Cheongang’s brow furrowed slightly as he looked at me.

—What good would it do this old man to hear any of that?

—Pardon?

—If we’re going, we’re going. Why bother prying into every last detail? I merely badgered him to get here as quickly as possible. I told him I’d sink every one of the swift ships if he didn’t.

—…Ah. Right.

I wasn’t sure whether to call that cool or hotheaded.

Shaking my head, I glanced at Mungyeong.

The boy had been chatting with Hyuk Mujin with a bright smile, showing no sign of irritation. But then one of his eyebrows lifted slightly.

A private Sound Transmission reached my ears.

—What.

—…I haven’t even said anything yet.

—Don’t stare at me for no reason. Not if you want to see the sun rise tomorrow.

How was I supposed to breathe with him scaring me like this?

I sighed inwardly and turned my gaze beyond the carriage’s latticed window.

Mount Longzhong, also called Mount Fulong because the greatest strategist under heaven—a man who had shaped the history of an era—had once lived there in seclusion.

And spread across a vast stretch of land, the Zhuge Clan finally came into view.

They said this was the wealthiest family in Hubei Province.

Their ancestor, Zhuge Kongming,³ had been renowned for his frugality. But his descendants had not devoted their naturally sharp minds solely to scholarship, mechanisms, and formations.

They had taken full advantage of the fertile land that yielded plentiful harvests every year and the Yangtze’s waterways, which crossed the entirety of Hubei Province, to amass enormous wealth.

I began to grasp the extent of that wealth before we even passed through the Zhuge Clan’s main gate.

“Why aren’t we getting out? Haven’t we arrived?”

Zhuge Gyun answered with an expression that seemed to say he had no idea what I was talking about.

“Pardon? It would take quite a while to walk from here to the Inner Hall. We still have seven more gates to pass through, so just remain seated.”

“…It’s that big?”

“This is after we reduced it. Our family suffered considerable damage during the Great Faction War.”

“That’s insane. You’re raking in gold and silver. Didn’t your ancestor leave instructions telling you to live frugally or something? Wasn’t he supposed to be an incorruptible scholar?”

Without the slightest change in expression, Zhuge Gyun answered in a solemn voice.

“Studying isn’t cheap. Do you know how expensive books are? Besides, our family also provides separate support to scholars.”

“…”

“You need a comfortable environment to pass the civil-service examinations and advance in martial arts. When you’re hungry, you can’t think about anything. You only become anxious.”

“Uh… right.”

It wasn’t what I had expected, but when I thought about it, every one of his points made sense.

After patiently explaining the importance of capital, Zhuge Gyun concluded his speech by saying that even his ancestor, Zhuge Kongming, had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

By then, the carriage had passed through all eight gates and was entering the Inner Hall.

“Now, please get down and follow me. The Family Head is waiting.”

“The Family Head would be…”

“My father.”

I had heard about him from Jeok Cheongang.

During the Great Faction War, Zhuge Gonghu had lost his only son. In accordance with the principle of eldest-son succession, he had bestowed the position of Lesser Family Head upon his young grandson.

That young grandson was Zhuge Feng, the Crouching Dragon Guest—the current Family Head of the Zhuge Clan and Zhuge Gyun’s father.

“Family Head, I’ve brought the honored guests.”

At Zhuge Gyun’s grave voice, now completely devoid of humor, the firmly closed doors slowly opened.