Chapter 329
The revelation of Song Il-Seom's true identity left the crowd in sheer disbelief.
Hyuk Mu-Jin, a longtime admirer of Murim and a member of the prestigious Jin Family from Taiyuan, was well-acquainted with the name, as was Cheong Pung, who boasted about hearing it from the Sword Saint.
"Chomp, chomp. My grandfather used to say that the Escort King was a good person, gulp."
"…Just swallow your food before talking, please."
"Okay! Chomp, chomp."
If Cheong Pung recognized him, it stood to reason the others did too.
Ju Hwa-Ran, the Escort King's granddaughter, gazed at the jade hairpin, her eyes shimmering, while Goong Gi-Bang enthusiastically scattered food as he spoke.
"Wow, the Jin Family of Guangdong!"
Clack clack clack clack!
Song Il-Seom, deflecting a dozen grains of rice spat out by Goong Gi-Bang with his chopsticks, responded.
"As I said, the legacy of the Jin Family of Guangdong has already disappeared. And can't you chew with your mouth closed?"
"My master also spoke of the Escort King's long journey. But to think that the child in those stories was actually you!"
"Did you listen through your nose? That child was my father. And your spitting is seriously disgusting."
Swish, thud thud thud!
Incredible, he deflected every single one.
Song Il-Seom, again displaying remarkable agility with his chopsticks, turned to me.
"This beggar, he's the heir of the Beggar Sect?"
"Unlikely as it seems, yes. What of it?"
"I thought he might be a disciple of Tang Family of Sichuan because of the Rain of Flowers coming out of his mouth. Just wondering."
"Hmm, probably not."
As our discussion unfolded, Ju Hwa-Ran, who had been fixated on the jade hairpin, finally spoke.
"My father told me. Until his last days, my grandfather sought news of the Jin Family of Guangdong, to no avail…"
"That remained a regret for my grandmother too. She had to flee with my father, who was just a baby, without leaving a single letter."
"Why did they suddenly disappear?"
"Because it was dangerous. The martial arts of the Jin Family of Guangdong were all lost in a fire, but people didn't believe it."
"Even within the territory of the Orthodox Sects..."
"Greed doesn't distinguish between good and evil. Among those who coveted the Jin Family of Guangdong's Peak martial arts, there were some who couldn't be bothered even by the name of the Escort King."
Turbulent Period.
Thinking of these two words, I could only imagine the hardships endured by the mother and son.
In an era rife with turmoil, societal norms crumble, unmasking raw human instincts as moral compasses fade.
His grandmother had escaped to shield her child from the insatiable greed of others, keeping her departure a secret.
"Although my grandmother couldn't handle even a third-rate swordsman, she was wiser than ten Masters combined."
Song Il-Seom remarked after a pause.
"Of course, she couldn't escape the natural course of birth, aging, sickness, and death."
"Then…"
"She succumbed to sickness when I was just ten. With this jade hairpin, she entrusted me with our family's history — a narrative I was hearing for the first time."
Beneath his blunt demeanor, Song Il-Seom possessed a knack for storytelling.
The mystery of his lineage had always intrigued me, but learning he roamed the streets post his grandmother's demise made further inquiries redundant.
It was evident both his parents had died young.
Yet, as one enigma unraveled, another emerged.
"So how did you manage to achieve such skills? You said the martial arts of the Jin Family of Guangdong were lost."
His answer was simple.
"On the battlefield."
"You lived as a wanderer?"
"I had no talent for begging. There were more people who, instead of throwing me a coin, would hit me because they didn't like my face."
Goong Gi-Bang, attentively listening, nodded in empathy.
"There's a right way to beg. For a beggar, the most important thing is a face and expression that evoke sympathy. But for someone as good-looking as Young Master Song or me, it's hard to earn even a little money. I've had many days of starving as well."
Song Il-Seom replied seriously.
"Hugae, that comment is quite unpleasant. I would appreciate it if you didn't insult me."
"Why do you say that? Have you seen my face when I was young? Honestly, even Song Yu would cry out of jealousy." [Note: Song Yu is a famous poet in Ancient China who was known for his beauty and talent in writing.]
"Song Yu would cry?"
Song Il-Seom stared intently at Goong Gi-Bang's face, which resembled a masterpiece by Picasso.
"Song Yu would definitely cry when he saw your face. If you ever come across me at night, stay far away. If I suddenly see your face, I might accidentally cut it."
Song Il-Seom, pondering whether to enact his threat, resumed his narrative.
"Anyway, begging was useless, and there were no decent jobs. After going hungry for more than three days, the world seemed yellow. I thought it better to become a sword boy rather than starve to death."
"A sword boy? The one who carries swords?"
"Yes."
"But isn't that a job for people with a lot of money? They hire someone because they don't want to carry their own sword."
"Do you think those rich folks would hire an unknown street urchin?"
"That too."
"Surprisingly, it's often the wanderers who hire sword boys the most. They are usually tasked with all sorts of menial work, and in urgent times, they even become human shields."
I had initially imagined it as a rather easy part-time job, but it turned out to be a veritable nightmare.
"It wasn't a pleasant or comfortable experience."
Song Il-Seom calmly recounted his past.
Enduring a spectrum of mistreatment and violence, he frequently found himself scavenging for weapons amidst a storm of arrows.
The day he was deserted by his employer, who fled to save his own life, felt like an ordeal in hell.
"I hid among a pile of corpses for four days. When I barely survived and went back to the wanderer, the first thing he did was to look for the sword he had entrusted to me."
"That's crazy."
"Fortunately, the two swords I was responsible for were safe. I held onto them desperately even while fleeing."
"…Wow, that's really crazy."
"Not as crazy as him. He started spouting nonsense that he had entrusted me with three swords, and told me to get lost if I didn't want to die like a dog. Of course, without paying me a penny for the past year's work."
As he swept back his hair, Song Il-Seom's voice held a hint of bitterness.
"I was pissed."
Naturally, instead of filing a complaint with the Ministry of Labor, he chose a quicker solution.
"Fortunately, there were two swords. I picked up one of them. I remember it felt very heavy."
"I guess you won?"
"I killed him."
Song Il-Seom corrected me nonchalantly, twirling his chopsticks.
"It wasn't hard. It was the same martial arts I had always seen, and it was predictable. Like a pre-arranged fight, after dodging him ten times, I stabbed once, and he fell."
Gulp.
Hyuk Mu-Jin, swallowing dryly, asked.
"How old were you then?"
"Twelve? Thirteen? I don't remember exactly, but it was around that age."
"And the opponent was..."
"Just a third-rate wanderer. If he was first-rate, do you think I would have been crazy enough to attack him?"
Actually, the very act of a kid who hadn't even graduated middle school attacking a martial artist was crazy in itself.
'What was I doing at that age?'
I can't remember. Probably just playing around, picking my nose or something.
'This guy is really talented.'
There are countless martial arts sects and families in the world.
If the Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Families are considered the first tier, naturally, there should be a second tier as well.
According to what Jeok Cheon-Gang mentioned in passing, the Jin Family of Guangdong was one of these second tier families.
'Does the blood of a martial family really ever fade?'
To achieve so much without the secret martial arts of his family.
As I pondered over his innate prowess, Goong Gi-Bang, who had been quiet until this point, suddenly regarded Song Il-Seom with astonishment.
"Are you, by any chance, the Soul Chasing Wanderer?" [Note: The direct translation of the moniker 추혼객(追魂客) is Pursuing Soul Wanderer, but Soul Chasing Wanderer sounds less clunky.]
"I was called that ten years ago. But how come your mouth is like a magic purse? There’s still an endless amount of bullshit coming out..."
"Huh, to think that the famous Soul Chasing Wanderer was a young man of my age."
Soul Chasing Wanderer. That seemed to be Song Il-Seom's moniker.
His reputation clearly aligned with his abilities, as Ju Hwa-Ran's expression too registered surprise.
"The Soul Chasing Wanderer who won a hundred duels to the death?"
"Exactly a hundred and two. But it's all exaggerated, so there's no need to make a fuss. There are two younger and more impressive guys right here."
Cheong Pung, who had already finished most of the food, laughed and responded.
"No, Young Master Song is really impressive."
I nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, he is strong. Just a bit weaker than me."
"…Are you guys mocking me now?"
Cheong Pung, sipping what seemed like crystal-clear water, replied.
"Nowumnumakinoo!"
"No, I'm not mocking you."
I translated for Song Il-Seom, drawing his gaze toward me.
"And you?"
"I'm definitely mocking you."
"…Isn't there any alcohol? I feel like having a drink all of a sudden."
* * *
The dinner that commenced in the early evening stretched on till near midnight.
Song Il-Seom, having chosen potent spirits over fine wine, now lay with his head on the table, while Ju Hwa-Ran, who had been sipping modestly, displayed rosy cheeks.
And now...
'It's really time to go.'
Rising from my seat, I watched as Goong Gi-Bang swiftly dispelled his inebriation with a burst of Qi. Meanwhile, Hyuk Mu-Jin, heavily intoxicated, managed to scoop up the snoring Cheong Pung.
"Sorry for the disturbance, Miss Ju."
"Are you leaving so soon?"
"I'd like to stay longer, but it seems I can't this time."
"I see. Mhmm."
Her eyes, glossed with the effects of alcohol, formed crescent moons.
Her steps were nimble, almost dance-like, and her cheeks bore prominent dimples. It appeared laughter was her drunken habit.
"Wait, would you like to take a walk?"
"What?"
"Let's go for a walk. The flowers in the garden have just bloomed."
"Oh. Congratulations. They must be beautiful."
Her laughter erupted unexpectedly. Before I could question her mirth, Ju Hwa-Ran, still chuckling, stepped outside.
I followed, albeit with a moment's hesitation, then paused and glanced back.
"Aren't you coming?"
"…Are you even human?"
"…You're worse than a beggar."
"What’s with that look in your eyes?"
"What look?"
"There's no look."
"Let's go. Miss Ju says the flowers have bloomed in the garden. We can take a look and then leave right on time..."
My words were cut off by the sighs of Goong Gi-Bang and Hyuk Mu-Jin.
Both of them, with expressions of utter dread, took turns speaking.
"I'm about to poop, so excuse me from the walk."
"Me too. We'll take turns. So you take your time looking around with Miss Ju."
"…Alright."
Their behavior was peculiar. Were their stomachs truly that upset? Their expressions today seemed almost sinister. [Note: it looks like our boy has also been cursed with the "clueless disease".]
Perhaps I misread the contempt and frustration in their eyes.
Quickening my pace, I joined Ju Hwa-Ran outside, and we began our walk through the garden, side by side.
"Master Jin, you are really an interesting person, aren't you?"
"Is that so?"
"Yes. Sometimes you can be frustrating, but… well, in a way, that’s also your charm."
"…?"
What's this? Is she criticizing me now?
Confused by my expression, Ju Hwa-Ran’s smile deepened.
"I can’t remember the last time I laughed out loud. It must have been more than half a year."
"Hmm? Didn’t you laugh the last time? When we passed Blackstone Mountain."
"Oh, did I?"
"Maybe you just don't remember? It’s already the second time in three days."
"Really? Is that so?"
Ju Hwa-Ran's voice took on a whimsical tone. Abruptly, she pointed skyward.
"Master Jin, do you see that?"
"I see it. It’s a full moon."
"The moon is really bright tonight."
"Miss Ju, do you know why the moon is bright? It’s because the light from the sun reflects off it."
"What?"
"No, really. It's not nonsense. It’s a well-known fact… well, I heard it from a scholar. Somewhere around the Imperial Palace."
Again, a soft chuckle escaped her lips.
"No, it's true…"
"Alright, I believe you. But, Master Jin."
"Yes?"
"Take this."
I looked at her, somewhat bewildered, as she handed me something.
A robust, elongated wooden box. I recognized it from Dengwang Tower.
"Is this by any chance..."
"Yes, a Hundred-Year Snow Ginseng."
"…"
"It’s modest compared to what you’ve done, but would you accept it? It would ease my mind a little."
My eyes shifted between Ju Hwa-Ran and the box, torn between refusal and acceptance...
After a moment of internal debate, I gave a nod.
"I’ll accept it gratefully. Thank you."
Ju Hwa-Ran's smile radiated, outshining even the moon in the sky.
During our hour-long walk, filled with easy conversation, we noticed the flowers along the path gradually becoming sparser.
Ju Hwa-Ran slowed her pace beside me.
"Master Jin."
"Yes, Miss Ju."
"Can I really do this?"
Her voice, tinged with a somber hue, caught me off guard.
Perhaps the alcohol was a veil for these deeper sentiments.
But sometimes, emotions defy containment. Moments arise when repressed feelings burst forth, unstoppable.
"Really, can I do this well?"
I found myself speaking.
"It's okay even if you can’t."
"……."
It's okay, I understand how you feel. Hang in there.
Sometimes, words of comfort can sound empty. It's not okay, a stranger can't fully understand everything about someone, and hearing 'hang in there' doesn’t suddenly fill one with strength.
I didn’t offer Ju Hwa-Ran clumsy consolation because she was already in enough distress.
"Miss Ju is human too. It’s okay to not be able to carry such a heavy burden, and it’s okay to feel weak."
Just keep going, as you have been.
Move at your own pace, step by step, not dictated by others.
"Isn't that enough?"
Her tear-filled eyes lifted to meet mine, then her expression softened into a smile.
* * *
Thump!
My foot hit the ground, propelling me forward. The landscape blurred as I sped across the earth.
The voices of Ju Hwa-Ran and the members of the Dragon Phoenix Escort Agency gradually receded until they disappeared entirely.
Only then did the two observers, who had been quietly watching, begin to speak.
"I saw earlier that Miss Ju's eyes were swollen…"
"Did she cry? No, probably not. Right?"
They were observant even in the dark.
Without much reaction to their comments, Hyuk Mu-Jin, gesturing towards my chest, posed a question.
"But what's that?"
"Oh, this."
I had forgotten to put it in my inventory.
I chuckled softly as I responded, reminded of someone's lie.
"A Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng."
"What?"
"Huh?"
Tags:
Murim Login (Novel)