Chapter 24

As dawn broke, the caravan’s occupants, who had rented the entire large inn, descended to the foot of the mountain. They conducted headcounts and distributed loads, as the mountain road was too treacherous for wagons. Consequently, everything had to be carried by hand.

“Hey, don’t let our age fool you! My brother and I are plenty strong,” Sa-yeong said, puffing out her chest with a grin. “Just give us a chance to prove it.”

“Why would I dump a load on a kid who’s barely the age of my own daughter?” one of the porters replied, waving her off with a rough but fond laugh. “Just you lot stay close behind us and don’t fall back. These mountain paths aren’t for the faint of heart.”

“Oh, I’m more at home on a mountain trail than anywhere else! Come on, just one bundle? And if we find something tasty along the way, you’ve gotta give me a bite.”

“Something tasty? You already swindled us out of all our snack money!”

“I didn’t swindle anyone! Uncle Jang, you’re the one who kept begging for another round of dice!”

Though Cho Yoon’s group had joined the caravan late—and under somewhat privileged circumstances—they had integrated seamlessly with the merchant guild’s staff.

While Cho Yoon’s role in saving their comrades had earned him respect, it was the children’s natural charm that had truly bridged the gap.

During their stay at the inn, the three had become fast friends with everyone from the lowly porters to the stern escort warriors.

Even now, as Sa-yeong playfully bartered with the men, the porters looked on with indulgent smiles, refusing to let the children lift so much as a single pebble.

“Sa-yeong,” Cho Yoon called out at the opportune moment, his voice carrying clearly over the bustle. “The porters are busy with their final preparations. Say your farewells and come here.”

“Yes, Master! See you in a bit, Uncle Jang!” Sa-yeong chirped before scurrying over.

Cho Yoon watched her go, a flicker of amusement crossing his features. He certainly hadn’t raised her to be this shrewd; it seemed to be a gift of her own nature. 

I suppose if I dropped her in the middle of nowhere, she’d find a way to thrive regardless.

Seeing her in a new environment continued to reveal unexpected depths to her character. Smiling inwardly, Cho Yoon signaled for her to turn around and began re-braiding her slightly tousled hair.

Sa-yeong tilted her head back to look at him. “Master, where’s Hyeon-ie?”

“He insisted on helping Cheon-oh with the unloading,” Cho Yoon replied, his fingers moving deftly through her hair. “Between his kind heart and the boy’s strength, there isn’t much they can’t handle.”

“My brother is definitely like that,” Sa-yeong muttered.

Her tone made it clear that her praise didn’t extend to Cheon-oh. That subtle, lingering hostility hadn’t wavered in years; by now, it had practically become a habitual reflex. Cho Yoon kept his expression neutral, though he lowered his voice.

“It is only natural to cherish your own blood, but do not be so harsh with your youngest martial brother. There is nothing for you to gain from such spite.”

“I’m… I’m trying not to be.”

No, seriously, there is literally nothing to gain, Cho Yoon thought with a grimace. It’s one thing that I’m the one who raised him, but I honestly have no idea what he’ll turn into when he’s older.

Ever since Sa-yeong was a child, her obsession with protecting her brother had hardened into a defensive shell. Once she deemed someone an outsider or a threat, she rarely lowered her guard. Cho Yoon knew he would have to continue mediating between them as long as his strength allowed.

“I have told you this many times, Sa-yeong. This binary view of the world, of splitting people into those who can harm Sa-hyeon and those who cannot, will only leave you isolated. Your heart is still trapped back in that place.”

Sa-yeong’s shoulders slumped slightly. “…I understand. I’ll be more careful, Master.”

“Good. I will speak with Cheon-oh as well, so do not let it weigh on your heart.”

As the children grew older and more capable of understanding him, Cho Yoon found his lectures becoming longer. He tried to restrain himself, but the nagging fear that she might end up as an irreconcilable enemy to the future final boss made him anxious.

He finished with her hair and scanned the crowd just as the two boys were returning. Despite having performed labor that would have exhausted half a dozen grown men, neither of them had broken a single bead of sweat. Sa-hyeon looked particularly bright, likely bolstered by the heaps of praise the porters had showered upon him.

“M-Master! Someone’s coming,” Sa-hyeon said, pointing toward the rear of the caravan.

“The first-generation disciples of Mount Hua have finally deigned to join us,” Cho Yoon noted.

He watched as three figures sauntered toward the bustling group, arriving just as it was time to depart. Cho Yoon swallowed a scoff at their blatant lack of urgency, hoisted his medicine box onto his back, and signaled to the children.

“Gather your things. It’s time.”

[Focus, all of you. As we climb, I am going to teach you the art of Voice Transmission.]

He used the quintessential ‘LTE service’ of the Murim, Voice Transmission, to beam the words directly into the children’s minds.

Startled by the voice echoing in their heads as if he were whispering right into their ears, the three of them spun around to look at him simultaneously.

Seeing his knowing smile, they broke into delighted grins and scrambled to prepare.

Cho Yoon couldn’t help but chuckle; students with a genuine thirst for knowledge were always a joy to teach.

***

While the Mount Hua Sect was reputed to be more liberal than its peers, it was still a sect rooted in Daoist traditions.

Furthermore, situated at the jagged peak of Mount Hua—the western jewel of the Five Great Peaks—it was notoriously difficult to traverse. Neophytes who entered the sect were forbidden from descending until their movement techniques reached the fifth stage at minimum; even then, they weren’t allowed to leave without a valid and significant reason.

Under normal circumstances, an excursion this free and unburdened should have been an occasion for celebration.

“Tsk. These boots were crafted from the finest Jiangsu silk,” a voice grumbled.

“The recent rains have made the ground quite muddy, I’m afraid,” Nan Wi-jeong replied, his voice a smooth balm to the complaints. “Fortunately, our Dangeum Merchant Guild specializes in Sichuan’s Shu brocade. If it pleases the Fragrant Willow Swordsman, I would be honored to commission a new pair for your return journey.”

“Oh? Well, I am quite embarrassed that a man of my station allowed such a petty complaint to slip through my lips. Still, the reputation of Sichuan’s Shu brocade is legendary. I find myself looking forward to it.”

“It would be a privilege to provide a silk worthy of a Heroic Flower Bud of Mount Hua.”

Yu Myeong-woo, known as the Fragrant Willow Swordsman, offered a refined, satisfied smile.

Over the course of the morning, he had already managed to extort several bolts of luxury silk through various ‘casual’ complaints about his attire. Cho Yoon knew the type well; before the hour was out, Myeong-woo would undoubtedly find something else to grumble about, feigning offense just to see what else he could squeeze from the merchant.

Nan Wi-jeong, desperate for the sect’s protection, remained glued to Myeong-woo’s side, catering to every whim of his volatile and greedy temperament.

It was a sycophantic display, and those nearby who were forced to witness the merchant treating the disciple like a visiting deity couldn’t help but furrow their brows in distaste.

Watching from a distance, Guyang Seon, with his senses sharpened by years of training, overheard the entire exchange and suppressed a deep, weary sigh.

We aren’t even doing this for free, yet he has the gall to act like a beggar for luxury goods. Does a Daoist truly crave forbidden finery this much?

For a member of a first-rate martial sect, serving as a merchant’s escort wasn’t exactly a prestigious assignment. However, considering they were being paid an exorbitant amount of silver for a task as simple as guarding against a few mountain bandits, even if its not the King of Green Forests, so they owed the merchant at least a modicum of respect.

Guyang Seon believed that as a Daoist and as a man, Myeong-woo’s behavior was beneath the dignity of Mount Hua.

Unfortunately, his opinions meant nothing to someone like Yu Myeong-woo.

Strictly speaking, we’re only here because our skills are at the bottom of the first-generation tier, Guyang Seon reflected bitterly. They could have sent second-generation disciples and achieved the same result. All that matters to this merchant is the prestige of the Mount Hua name.

The moment his master had assigned him to this escort duty, Guyang Seon had understood the subtext.

It was a blow to his pride, but since he lacked both a powerful family and the wealth to buy his way into favor, and also lacked the monstrous talent to overcome both, he had no choice but to keep his head down.

Yu Myeong-woo, by contrast, was the second son of one of Shaanxi’s wealthiest merchant families. His family had made a massive donation upon his entry into the sect, ensuring his path was paved with silver regardless of his mediocre talent. He had only volunteered for this assignment to escape the stifling boredom of the mountain.

The third member of their party, Lee Yeon, remained true to his reputation as the most morose and uncommunicative member of the sect. He trudged along in silence, a shadow following the group.

He already has so much. Why is he still so greedy? I wish he’d just behave for once…

Disgusted by the display, Guyang Seon turned his gaze away, only for a strange sight to catch his eye.