Chapter 506

Fwoosh.

A northwest wind blew in from the distance, filling the sail. The burly, rough-faced river bandits rowed hard in rhythm, while the bow split the water into white foam that formed and vanished on either side.

Peaceful, as if nothing had happened.

Maybe it was because of all the tragedies we’d seen lately, but the Yangtze, stretching endlessly before us like a sea, looked beautiful today.

As if he’d read my mind, Jeok Cheongang spoke from beside me.

“Same shitty scenery as ever.”

“……”

“If I had to pick two things that ought to disappear from this world right now, they’d be Dark Heaven and the Yangtze.”

So much for reading my mind.

What could I say? In more ways than one, it was nice that he hadn’t changed. I watched his red hair whip in the wind and sighed.

“Don’t sigh so loudly. The ground—”

“The ground won’t sink just because I sigh.”

“No. You’ll die by this old man’s hand before you set foot on land.”

“Wow. You keep exceeding my expectations.”

“You seem to have forgotten how to use your eyes while we were apart. One says ‘dis,’ and the other says ‘respect.’ What am I to do with them?”

“They say ‘re’ and ‘spect,’ actually.”

“Want me to beat some ‘feet-spect’ into you?”

“N. O.”

Whoosh—whack!

“Ugh!”

Lightning flashed before my eyes. At my cry, and the sight of me clutching the back of my head, Jeok Cheongang flinched.

“I-I barely hit you. What a fuss.”

“Does this look like I’m making a fuss? My skull’s ringing.”

“Your skull is… ringing?”

“I’m tough, but I’m still human. Of course it is.”

“……Did it hurt that much? I didn’t mean to hit you so hard. Let me see.”

He was fidgeting like a puppy that needed to poop. I let out a quiet laugh.

“Why—why are you laughing?”

“No reason.”

“……?”

“Ah, I’m all better. Anyway, how long will it take us to reach Henan at this rate?”

At my casual change of subject, Jeok Cheongang’s face turned bright red.

“H-how dare you toy with this old man!”

Whack!

“Ah, that really hurt!”

“Just take it!”

It hurt. It really did.

So why did I keep laughing even as he hit me?

Maybe I missed this.

Yes. That was probably it.

Sometimes you miss the little things that never seemed important at the time. For me, it was my father’s scratchy beard, which had stung so much when I was young. And it was Jeok Cheongang’s palm, gradually growing slower and weaker.

But things were all right now. My father had died long ago, and I could only see him in photographs. Jeok Cheongang, though, had regained his strength.

Whack!

Feeling the speed and power he’d recovered along with his youth made me laugh again.

This is nice, too.

Whack! Whack! Whaaack!

“……Uh, wait a second.”

“How dare you make a fool of this old man!”

“Ugh!”

On second thought, it wasn’t that nice.

There was a limit to how much something ought to hurt. This was crossing it.

My lunatic grin had vanished without a trace. I was twisting desperately to dodge Jeok Cheongang’s thick palms when a voice cut in.

“Um… should I come back later?”

Jeok Cheongang stopped dead. I seized the chance to slip away and hide behind the speaker.

My precious meat shield—no, Ship-Fire Boy Mu Song—cried out in alarm.

“H-hey, Junior!”

“Junior. That sounds especially nice today, Senior.”

“What are you doing?”

“Inheriting your position as Stronghold Lord.”

“If you’re going to get beaten, get beaten alone!”

“A Senior’s supposed to help his Junior at times like this. Don’t you want to be that kind of Senior?”

“Why the hell should I—gasp, Great Hero Jeok!”

Unfortunately, Mu Song and I didn’t get beaten together.

With the moment broken, Jeok Cheongang lowered his clenched fist instead of bringing it down. He smacked his lips and looked Mu Song up and down.

“Never mind. What is it?”

Mu Song, who had squeezed his eyes shut in expectation of a merciless beating, hurriedly pried me off him.

“I came because I heard you’d called for me. One of my subordinates said you were looking for me…”

“This old man called for you? When?”

“I-I was told you’d asked when we would arrive in Henan.”

I’d been quietly watching the exchange. Now I raised my hand.

“Uh, I think that was me.”

One of the river bandits must have overheard me mutter it while I was changing the subject and passed it on to Mu Song.

“……It was you, Junior?”

“Yes. I was just thinking aloud.”

“I see. I see.”

Judging by Mu Song’s grim voice, the river bandit who had passed along the wrong information probably would not escape a taste of the Yangtze today.

I turned toward Mu Song, who was glaring somewhere with a dangerous look in his eyes.

“I did want to know, though. When do you think we’ll arrive?”

Although Mu Song was startlingly young compared with the other old martial-world veterans, he was still an experienced river bandit who had spent his entire life on the Yangtze.

He took a moment to work it out, then said, “We should be able to cut the travel time considerably. If weather like today’s continues, we’ll reach Xixia within ten days at the latest.”

“Xixia?”

I’d traveled plenty, but not enough to know every place name in the world. In Murim, I’d been too busy to learn them. I’d tried looking them up online in the modern world, but the names and locations didn’t always match.

Just look at Dongting Lake.

Here in Murim, Dongting Lake lay in Hubei Province. On a modern Chinese map, it was in Hunan Province.

Discrepancies like that were decisive proof that the two worlds, however similar, were not the same.

“Is Xixia in Henan?”

Jeok Cheongang nodded.

“It’s on the southwestern edge of Henan. If this old man remembers correctly, a tributary of the Yangtze ends around there. From then on, we’ll have to travel by land. Is that correct?”

“Exactly right, Great Hero Jeok.”

“I passed near Xixia during the Great Faction War. Good. Very good.”

Was he pleased that Returned to Youth had cured his infirmities of old age and sharpened his memory? Or that we’d be off the Yangtze in ten days at most?

Maybe both.

Smiling with satisfaction, Jeok Cheongang turned to Mu Song.

“Come to think of it, you’ve had a hard time too. From Sichuan to Hubei, and now all the way to Henan.”

Mu Song shook his head, his expression bitter.

“How could I call this hardship? Thanks to it, I can finally lay Uncle Hwang and all the brothers who died before their time to rest. It’s what I ought to do, whether anyone asks me or not.”

After the Water God Dragon fell, Mu Song and the other river bandits of Water Dragon Stronghold had gathered the dead men’s bones and scattered them across the Yangtze.

They had lived on the Yangtze and died on the Yangtze. It was an end befitting river bandits of the Yangtze River Channel League.

“They must be grateful to you from the Nine Springs.¹”

“Was your name Mu Saeng? For a Disciple of the Seafaring King, you have decent manners. Yangtze One Saber raised you well.”

“He was like family to me. And it’s Mu Song, not Mu Saeng, Great Hero Jeok.”

“Right, Mu Saeng.”

“……”

Had his infirmities of old age not been completely cured after all?

For a moment, I wondered. Then I saw Jeok Cheongang glare and realized he was just being stubborn. Whatever Mu Song’s name really was, that look said he’d better change it if Jeok Cheongang called him Mu Saeng.

Mu Song swallowed under the aura of a man steeped in the Three Bonds and Five Relationships.²

“What? Why?”

“N-no reason.”

“Good, Mu Saeng.”

Could anyone else hear dentures clacking?

I took pity on the man who’d lost his name and offered him a hand. Though, really, I was more interested in asking him something.

“By the way, Senior, are you planning to return to Sichuan?”

“Hm?”

“You know why we’re heading to Henan, don’t you?”

Mu Song understood what I meant. His gaze grew somber.

“You’re wondering whether I’ll join the Murim Alliance.”

“To be honest, yes.”

“Dark Heaven’s scheme killed someone I looked up to like a parent, along with countless brothers. What would you do in my place?”

“Whatever it took to avenge them.”

“So would I. I want to rush there and lend the Murim Alliance a hand right now. But…”

Mu Song bit his lip, then spoke on a sigh.

“I’m only one Stronghold Lord within the Yangtze River Channel League. I have no say in its decisions. Only one person can decide matters of importance for the League: my Master and its Alliance Leader, the Seafaring King.”

That was common enough in Murim, where strength commanded respect. A Sect Leader’s or Family Head’s authority was greater even than that of a conglomerate owner with an iron grip on the family business.

The problem was—

“Typical of a rootless band of river thieves. Then again, it’s ridiculous to expect anything from men who weighed the costs and benefits even during the Great Faction War.”

Yes. Exactly what Jeok Cheongang had said.

The Yangtze River Channel League had never belonged to the orthodox faction. River bandits scattered across the land like grass roots had gathered beneath its banner because the Seafaring King was strong enough to lead them and promised to protect their individual interests.

I’ve heard the Green Forest Alliance is much the same.

Both groups had begun as thieves banding together to take what belonged to others. They had survived and grown because they sided with orthodox Murim in the Great Faction War, backed the winners, and were rewarded with recognition of their activities.

They were treated much better than the other unorthodox factions that had survived the war. But grass roots didn’t become tree roots just because of that.

Jeok Cheongang gazed at the waves of the Yangtze with displeasure and muttered,

“Before this old man dies, I hope this goddamn Yangtze dries up and withers away. Then that bastard Seafaring King’s face will be a complete mess. Tsk, tsk.”

“……”

“Think carefully yourself, Mu Saeng. Your Master may make the wrong choice.”

“……I don’t believe he will.”

Despite hearing his Master insulted to his face, Mu Song merely gave a bitter smile. His reaction left me with the vague impression that his relationship with the Seafaring King wasn’t especially warm.

But what happens if the Yangtze River Channel League and the Green Forest Alliance side with Dark Heaven now?

The answer came quickly.

A real headache, that’s what.

If Dark Heaven was a blade approaching from the front, those two factions were daggers stabbing in from behind.

If they decided to harbor ulterior motives, even the mighty orthodox Murim would inevitably suffer a blow.

“The Sword Saint will have quite a headache. I wonder what those two will choose…”

Jeok Cheongang seemed to have reached the same thought. He was muttering to himself when someone spoke.

“Not two. Four.”

I turned. Mungyeong stood there, his expression composed.