Chapter 87 : Guest Dragon

Chapter 87: Guest Dragon

After the commotion swept through Yichang, many things returned to their rightful places.

First, the signboards of Seong-un Inn and Sangwon Cloth Shop were restored.

The massive stele that had disappeared was also returned, and Oh Jeong-san’s treasured Wild Ginseng Wine found its way back to its rightful owner.

Jin Seong-un handed over both the wine and the thief to Oh Jeong-san, who said he would personally take responsibility and send the thief to the Murim Alliance.

“At last, it’s quiet again.”

Jin Seong-un, looking satisfied, wiped the inn’s tables. Seo Yu-gyeom, who came to work late, grinned as he spoke.

“You’re early again today. Guest Dragon.”

Jin Seong-un let out a deep sigh.

Suddenly, Seomun Ak, who had just stepped into the shop, greeted him cheerfully.

“From tomorrow on, I’ll be able to come early as well. Guest Dragon.”

Ever since the incident at Wuhan Bank, where the Sima Clan’s meticulous formation was smashed apart by nothing but brute force.

As usual, gossipmongers spread the story everywhere, and Jin Seong-un gained a new alias.

Though he didn’t particularly care for the alias, Seo Yu-gyeom and Seomun Ak, noticing his distaste, became all the more relentless in attaching it to every sentence they spoke.

Guest Dragon.

The greatest of the later-generation prodigies were called the Five Dragons and Three Phoenixes. Among them, Sima Hwi, known as the Rising Dragon, had fallen from his pedestal.

The internal injuries he suffered when the formation collapsed were so severe that he would have to devote the next five or six years to recovery just to walk and eat properly again.

But as a martial artist, his life was essentially over.

Jin Seong-un had heard the news from Tang So-yeon as well, but he felt no real guilt.

It was nothing more than karmic retribution.

To slander and belittle others…

And even attempt to kill—then one must be ready to pay such a price.

Jin Seong-un promptly erased the name Sima Hwi from his mind.

For now, preparing for the morning’s business was far more important.

As he finished arranging the tables and chairs and sweeping the floor—

A familiar woman appeared at the inn’s entrance.

Jin Seong-un looked at her with a puzzled gaze.

“What brings you here?”

“No reason.”

It was Namgung Rin, the Sword Phoenix.

He had never once exchanged words with her. Even when Sima Hwi had quarreled with him, she had only stood silently in the back.

To Jin Seong-un, she stirred neither fondness nor dislike. Simply a woman of the Namgung Clan. That was all.

“Are we the sort who would meet without reason?”

It was just a plain question.

Namgung Rin smiled wryly.

“Not exactly.”

It had taken her quite some time to gather the resolve to come here.

After the Wuhan Bank incident was settled, she had returned to her residence and mulled it over.

Tang So-yeon, Baek Sang, Baek Seol, and Seomun Ak—

All four had grown tremendously.

Though they had not truly fought with killing intent, even a friendly duel revealed their levels of growth.

So much so that Baek Li-joong, who had faced Seomun Ak, returned immediately to his clan that very night, saying he had to enter closed-door training.

Of course, all four had been exceptional martial artists to begin with. But to grow so suddenly and all at once, there had to be another reason.

The answer was surprisingly simple. Their only common factor was Seong-un Inn.

“Please cross swords with me.”

Jin Seong-un looked at her in disbelief.

It seemed that the descendants of prestigious clans were all rather strange.

Tang So-yeon and Seomun Ak were the same way.

And even Seo Yu-gyeom, though not from a great clan, was no exception.

While Jin Seong-un stared at Namgung Rin, lost in such thoughts, she gave another wry smile.

“I knew you’d refuse.”

“There’s no reason to.”

“True.”

Namgung Rin nodded obediently.

If the other party had no interest, she could hardly force him into a duel. Worse yet, it felt as if she might truly lose her life if she tried.

Sima Hwi’s fate had become a valuable lesson for the other prodigies.

Just as she turned to leave, she spoke.

“I wasn’t very close to Young Master Sima. Our clans are deeply tied, that’s all. Just so you know.”

Jin Seong-un shrugged.

What was he supposed to do with that?

Namgung Rin nodded lightly, then left.

That evening.

Tang So-yeon, Baek Sang, and Baek Seol came to Seong-un Inn.

Somehow, Namgung Rin had slipped into their company as well.

“Are you all leaving?”

At Jin Seong-un’s question, they all nodded.

It was truly time to go, now that the thief had been caught.

They had never expected Jin Seong-un, of all people, to be the one to catch the thief who had eluded them for so long…

‘Better him than that Sima Hwi bastard.’

With that thought, Tang So-yeon felt far more at ease. After all, most people had assumed Sima Hwi, the genius of formations, would be the one to catch the thief.

While Jin Seong-un, Seo Yu-gyeom, and Seomun Ak exchanged brief farewells with the prodigies—

No Sang-won stood at the shopfront, sneaking glances at them with a face full of sorrow.

‘So happiness ends here.’

Thanks to the martial artists’ presence, Sangwon Cloth Shop had been enjoying its golden age.

Moreover, since they were all wealthy young heirs, they discarded their martial uniforms at the slightest wear and bought new ones instead of patching them up.

Seeing this, No Sang-won had been moved to tears.

Now, those joyous days were ending.

He consoled himself with the fact that the money he had made in just a few days was substantial.

At that moment—Namgung Rin walked directly up to him.

“Mister.”

“Ah, yes, Young Mistress.”

Knowing she was the Namgung Clan’s daughter, No Sang-won treated her with utmost respect.

She spoke without delay.

“Your martial uniforms are of excellent quality. Would you consider making a direct trade with the Namgung Clan?”

No Sang-won’s eyes widened as if they would pop out.

The Namgung Clan was one of the undisputed top clans of the Central Plains. Among the Five Great Clans, they were especially known for their wealth.

Even their Clan Head, the Sword King, bore the nickname King of Anhui.

“P-please wait a moment!”

Despite his large build, No Sang-won darted into his shop with surprising agility and returned carrying a trade contract.

Without the slightest hesitation, Namgung Rin affixed her seal.

“Do you usually carry your seal with you?”

Namgung Rin flinched.

It meant she had prepared for this in advance.

From the start, she had come with the intent of securing at least one connection in Yichang. For some reason, she had felt an irresistible instinct to do so.

Of course, No Sang-won had no intention of offending her, so he swiftly changed the subject.

“Shouldn’t a deal like this be discussed with your Clan Head or the Grand Steward first?”

“I have enough authority for this much. It’s fine.”

For once, she even boasted a little about herself—before stealing a glance at Jin Seong-un.

Naturally, Jin Seong-un looked entirely uninterested.

Namgung Rin let out a small sigh.

Murim Alliance Headquarters.

Sima Baek smiled faintly after receiving the report about what had happened in Yichang.

“Guest Dragon, eh. Now I understand why the White Sword Hall Leader spoke so.”

The subordinate who delivered the report was secretly worried.

After all, the one who suffered the most in this incident was none other than Sima Baek’s grandson, Sima Hwi.

But contrary to expectations, the Grand Marshal did not seem particularly displeased.

“Ah, the thief has been locked in the prison for now. But she refuses to open her mouth. Should we try some harsher methods?”

“No need. Leave her be, and it will resolve itself soon enough.”

“Yes, understood.”

The subordinate was curious how it would resolve, but did not ask further. If the Grand Marshal himself said so, the truth would soon become clear.

Within the Murim Alliance—or rather, throughout the Orthodox Murim—Sima Baek was such a figure.

Dismissing his subordinate, Sima Baek donned his white robe embroidered with the character for Alliance (盟) and left his office.

His destination was the medical ward within the Murim Alliance.

The physicians, upon spotting the Grand Marshal, merely gave him a glance before returning to their work.

At first, it had not been this way. Whenever the Grand Marshal came, they would panic, stop what they were doing, and hurry to greet him.

Each time, Sima Baek would scold them instead. Physicians ought to focus on patients, not on empty formalities.

Since then, the physicians no longer cared if Sima Baek himself—or even the Alliance Leader—came in, so long as they were treating a patient.

And Sima Baek always encouraged and praised them for it.

“You’ve all worked hard.”

Once more offering words of encouragement, he crossed the ward to a particular room.

Inside, Sima Hwi was recuperating. His condition was not a simple injury but a grave internal wound that required treatment within the Murim Alliance.

The Alliance physicians were all martial artists themselves, for the wounds of martial artists required different methods of healing than those of ordinary folk.

Seeing Sima Baek, Sima Hwi struggled upright and bowed his head.

“I am sorry.”

“What is it that you are sorry for?”

Sima Hwi pressed his lips together.

Indeed—what was it that he was sorry about?

After a moment of silence, Sima Baek smiled gently.

“Put away your idle thoughts and focus only on recovery.”

“…Grand Marshal. I am already finished.”

Sima Hwi was at the age when one should be laying the foundation. To lose that entire period, to him, felt like an irredeemable loss.

Sima Baek replied in a calm tone.

“Our ancestor, Sima Qian, suffered heavy punishment, enduring shame and the ruin of body and spirit. Yet he did not abandon his will, and from prison completed the Records of the Grand Historian, later rising to the post of Palace Secretary. Compared to him, what is it that you have truly lost?”

“Accept that your plight comes not from misfortune, but from your own karma. Only then can you continue to strive forward.”

Sima Baek knew well the twisted disposition of his grandson. Among the few regrets of his life, Sima Hwi was one.

Busy with Alliance affairs, he had neglected his household. He had not disciplined his grandson properly, and now, neither grandfather nor father could set him right.

Once grown to this age, one’s nature could not be changed by another’s teaching. Only self-realization could bring change.

And at last, such an opportunity had arrived.

Though, considering his grandson’s nature, expecting much was difficult. Still, Sima Baek patted his shoulder and left the ward. That was all he could do for now.

Before returning to his office, Sima Baek had to greet a guest.

The central plaza of the Murim Alliance.

Everyone crossing that vast square turned their gaze to a single figure.

A middle-aged woman.

Her striking red hair already drew eyes, but her sharp features and noble aura kept them fixed on her.

Sima Baek, upon seeing her, chuckled softly.

“You’ve arrived. Best we go inside to talk.”

He led her toward his office. Even beside the Grand Marshal of the Murim Alliance, her dignified presence did not waver.

The two soon sat across a desk from one another.

“…I must apologize, Grand Marshal.”

She bowed her head to him.

Sima Baek smiled knowingly.

“No one was harmed, and the stolen goods were safely returned to their owners. It need not become a greater issue.”

She sighed, then set a chest upon the desk.

“Here is compensation for the victims, the bounty placed upon the child, and a token of gratitude for the Murim Alliance’s efforts.”

“The gratitude belongs not to the Alliance, but should be shared among the victims, yes?”

“…Of course.”

She lowered her head again, at a loss for words.

Soon after, at Sima Baek’s order, the thief was brought into the office.

“Show respect. This is Grand Marshal Sima Baek.”

The woman, Chae Ga-hee, spoke to her daughter.

The thief bowed politely.

“Pleased to meet you. I am Chae Seo-ryeong.”

“Haha, you’ve grown so much.”

“Have you seen me before?”

“Yes, when you were about this tall.”

He gestured with his hand to a child’s height, then smiled.

“So, was your journey through the jianghu satisfying?”

“…For that, I must apologize again.”

“You did not cross the line, so it is fine. But from now on, you must be more cautious. No matter the intent, if the result brings harm, the Alliance will be forced to draw its sword.”

Though his tone was gentle, his eyes flashed with blade-like pressure.

Chae Seo-ryeong bowed her head once more.

Then, recalling Yichang, she raised her gaze.

“By the way… that Sima Hwi or whatever his name is—he’s your grandson?”

“…Yes, that’s right.”

“He seems a little twisted. Shouldn’t you set him straight?”

“Haha…”

Sima Baek gave an awkward laugh. He could hardly deny it, for he thought the same.

But Chae Ga-hee, Pavilion Master of Falling Flame Manor and Seo-ryeong’s mother, reacted differently.

The ever-dignified woman flushed slightly and pressed her forehead.

“Seo-ryeong, you were caught thieving by the Alliance. Do you forget that?”

“That’s true, but I didn’t hurt anyone. Sima Hwi, though—he tried to kill me and the inn boy. I was caught stealing, fine, but what crime did the boy commit to deserve death?”

It was the sort of statement that could make one uncomfortable.

Yet, uncomfortable truths were always the hardest to hear.

Still, Sima Baek did not lose his composure, smiling as he replied. He had already recognized the truth in her words.

“They call him Guest Dragon. Perhaps he was envious. Every word you speak is right. It was my failure to teach him properly. I owe you an apology.”

“…No, I wasn’t seeking an apology. As I said, I’m fine. The inn boy was the one wronged.”

“Haha, I will be sure to deliver my apology to him as well.”

“Thankfully, you are nothing like Sima Hwi, Grand Marshal.”

“Hahaha…”

Even a venerable elder could be flustered by the innocence of youthful boldness.

For Chae Seo-ryeong’s boldness, it was her mother, Chae Ga-hee, who suffered most.

“…I apologize, Grand Marshal.”

“You’ve raised your daughter to be forthright. If I had known, I would have come to learn your secret methods when Hwi was born.”

Chae Ga-hee laughed awkwardly.

The two women soon offered their farewells and left the office.

Suddenly, a dull thud echoed in the corridor, followed by Seo-ryeong’s cry.

Sima Baek smiled faintly.

That family had always been full of strong-willed women, now as in decades past.

If even Chae Ga-hee, the most mild-mannered Pavilion Master in their history, was like that—

“Falling Flame Manor and Guest Dragon…”

Sima Baek pulled a brush and ink closer, wrote something at length, and handed it to his subordinate.