Chapter 84. Hubei’s Gossiper

The Murim Alliance headquarters was located quite a distance from the city center. Yet, the crowd gathered to get there was so vast that the city itself was bustling with people.

“Cough, cough.”

Tang Hae-han frowned, coughing constantly in the thick dust.

“Is it always this crowded?”

“I wouldn’t know. It’s my first time as well.”

Tang Hae-han asked the young martial artist standing beside him, but he, too, didn’t know.

“Of course. There are fifteen members just from the Alliance alone, not to mention all the spectators.”

The accompanying Black Sky Demon clicked his tongue.

“This is exactly why Hubei merchants can’t leave, even if the spot fees are expensive. With the Zhuge Clan, the Hubei branch, and even the headquarters hosting an event once a year, the crowd always floods in like this.”

“Ohh, so all these people are here just for the Martial Arts Tournament? Cough, cough.”

Tang Hae-han opened his mouth in awe, only to swallow more dusty air. The Black Sky Demon looked at him pitifully and turned his gaze away.

The noise in the street was immense, likely due to the sea of people.

Nearby merchants even offered to stand in line on behalf of others and suggested they enjoy a drink in the meantime. As a result, the inns and inns lining the street were packed with people taking a breather.

The eyes of those sitting on the balcony were fixed on one spot, as if by prior arrangement. And after a while, they moved simultaneously.

It seemed they were following the stories spun by the gossiper.

So-hwa turned her head to where the customers were looking. But the road was so jammed with people that she couldn’t see who was ahead.

Given that their gaze didn’t move much, perhaps a large Sect or noble clan was passing through.

The gossiper was likely explaining each person in that group one by one.

‘Certainly worthy of being called a major event.’

The faces of the customers, full of interest, and the beaming face of the owner came into view.

Finding the cheerful atmosphere unpleasant, So-hwa raised her gaze. A tall, white pavilion came into view. It was the building of the Anguk Merchant Group, which was raking in money from all over the Central Plains.

It was also owned by the Blood Sect bastard who had allied with her. Was it called Platinum Pavilion?

‘So it was this close to the headquarters.’

She couldn’t even guess how many Blood Sect members might be inside the Murim Alliance headquarters.

As So-hwa’s expression turned grim, the surroundings suddenly fell silent.

Feeling something was off, So-hwa looked back toward the shop.

At that exact moment, she met the stares of dozens of eyes fixed squarely on her.

***

An inn in Wuhan was bustling with people even in broad daylight. This place had been a well-known spot for a long time. It was a delightful place to gossip about the murim while watching those entering the Murim Alliance headquarters.

“Look over there! The Qingcheng Sect has arrived.”

“Oh? But who is that wearing the white robe? The pattern is different from the Qingcheng Sect’s emblem. Which Taoist Sect is he from?”

“Ah, don’t you know? That’s Seoljin. From what I hear, he’s a martial artist rivaling Ilseong. His unique martial art is so complex that no one’s been able to counter it.”

“Then, is he stronger than Ilseong from the Qingcheng Sect?”

“Hard to say. They supposedly fought once at a life-and-death level, but since both are still alive, I’d say it was a draw.”

“But if he’s not from Qingcheng, why is he with them?”

“It’s just a rumor, but…”

An older traveler drained his cup, drawing out the moment. The customers eavesdropping nearby grew restless with anticipation.

Sensing the silence in the room, the traveler mischievously popped a bite of side dish into his mouth and chewed slowly before continuing.

“You know how the Blood Sect has been hiding to avoid pursuit by the Murim Alliance, right? But recently, one of their members reportedly attacked a pursuit team.”

“What? Are you saying the pursuit team got taken down by the Blood Sect?”

The man sitting across furrowed his brow in doubt.

“I heard the Alliance only sends elites from their Sects to the branches. Are you saying someone like that was defeated? That’s nonsense.”

“That’s why the Murim Alliance is keeping it quiet. They say the Blood Sect member in question is a master of Fiery Yang Art.”

“Fiery Yang Art?”

“Yeah. They say it’s the lost martial art of the Solar Palace, the ‘Heat Art.’”

Those who had been quietly listening from the neighboring table now turned their full attention toward the conversation.

The traveler grinned as he saw the expressions of disbelief on the listeners’ faces.

“I get it. Sounds like one of those made-up tales about legendary secret manuals or whatever. I didn’t believe it either, but seeing Seoljin entering the headquarters with the Qingcheng Sect, maybe there’s some truth to it.”

“What does Seoljin have to do with any of this?”

“Why, haven’t you heard the rumors? That Seoljin, that vagabond—he’s said to have come from the North Sea branch.”

The elderly traveler stroked his beard and added,

“They say the Heat Art of that Blood Sect bastard is so wicked, it lingers in the body and slowly burns the victim to death. To extract it, they say you need an extreme yin-based energy. Of course, it’s not like the Murim Alliance shares such information with people like us, so I can’t say it’s certain. But the fact that the Alliance is frantically searching for elixirs containing concentrated yin energy—like Extreme Ice Grass or Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng—makes it hard to dismiss entirely.”

At that, someone burst into laughter.

“Come on, that makes no sense. Seoljin never learned the Ice Art of the North Sea Ice Palace. He might have read a secret manual left in the North Sea, but his body would never be able to withstand it.”

The sudden interruption by an old monk chilled the atmosphere.

“And how do you know that?”

“Well, how do you know Seoljin came down from the North Sea branch?”

The traveler was left speechless, his mouth opening and closing without a word.

The chatter from the balcony had been entertaining, but it was clear now: these were just tales, each person speaking whatever pleased them.

Yes, it was all a baseless rumor.

Realizing this, the customers sheepishly emptied their cups.

“Well, regardless of what’s true or not, it does seem something’s definitely happening within the Murim Alliance.”

The old monk said this, not really offering comfort, but rather adding to the unease.

The traveler, annoyed, shot back.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying I’ve been lying this whole time?”

“No, I’m not saying you lied. I’m just curious about where you heard it from… the one who said all that.”

The traveler scowled.

“Hah! I wasn’t going to say this, but fine. The one said to have been struck by the Heat Art—it’s none other than Young Taoist Myungdan of Mount Hua. Anyone who knows martial affairs knows the name. Isn’t he the youngest Plum Blossom Swordsman that Mount Hua’s been raising with great care?”

The inn fell silent once more.

Mount Hua. Plum Blossom Swordsman.

Names impossible not to recognize, even for those with only passing interest in the murim.

With attention returning to him, the man puffed up and continued proudly,

“You know about the Tang Clan’s Divine Physician, right? All of Murim was buzzing about it. That very physician personally went to Shaanxi to diagnose Myungdan. Everyone thought he was dying from internal injuries, but the Divine Physician was the one who discovered it was the aftereffect of the Heat Art! So elder Muso fed him Extreme Ice Grass and personally drew out the remaining heat in Myungdan’s body using yin energy… But they say he already suffered mental damage and can’t live as a normal person anymore… Eh, this part really shouldn’t be told…”

The man, having spoken too excitedly, suddenly covered his mouth.

Now that he had described the situation in detail, people began to believe his words again.

But then—

“Huh? Isn’t that the Mount Hua Sect over there?”

A customer by the window spoke up.

“Yeah, that’s Muso! And the martial artist next to Master Muso… isn’t that Young Taoist Myungdan?”

Someone, perhaps a visitor from Shaanxi or someone with ties to Mount Hua, recognized Myungdan. At that, the customers all turned their heads to look down at the street again.

“Oh! It really is Young Taoist Myungdan! I saw all the participants’ portraits at the Martial Arts Tournament betting hall!”

Apparently, others well-versed in the Mount Hua Sect confirmed the man’s identity, agreeing that it was indeed Myungdan.

People began to look disappointedly at the traveler who had been talking so much.

“No matter how desperate you are for attention, how could you invoke Mount Hua and spout lies?”

“Exactly. Great Warrior, be careful what you say. Unlike us, prestigious Orthodox Sects are sensitive about outsiders speaking carelessly about them.”

“N-no… I, uh… That can’t be…”

The gossiper mumbled, scratching his head.

But it was truly Myungdan.

‘Wait, wasn’t he supposed to have lost his mind? Then how is he already participating in the Martial Arts Tournament?’

The person who had told him was someone from the Murim Alliance headquarters. After hearing it, the man had spent his entire fortune sending someone to the North Sea to procure Extreme Ice Grass.

With his thoughts in turmoil, the man was left speechless.

However, the inn grew even louder than before.

Those who had been tense at the mention of the Heat Art now relaxed, assuming the man had just been spouting nonsense. People let down their guards and continued to watch as the participants appeared one by one.

“Wow, look over there. Looks like the daughter of the Zhuge Clan is participating in this tournament.”

“You mean Lady Cheon-yu? Where? Where!”

At the name Zhuge Cheon-yu, everyone’s eyes widened.

A woman stood at the front of the Zhuge Clan. Her face was round like a boiled egg, with large eyes that radiated kindness.

“She looks like a celestial maiden.”

Someone even murmured that aloud.

Her eyes, which curved like half-moons when she spoke, and the constant gentle smile at the corners of her lips, only enhanced her impression of gentleness.

“They say she’s the most beautiful in Hubei, and it’s clearly no exaggeration. How can a person even look like that?”

“Well, direct descendants of noble clans are always striking in appearance.”

“Huh? Why’s that?”

“When humans gain wealth and fame, they naturally seek out beauty. Martial clans have long accumulated riches and elevated their prestige, so their direct descendants—regardless of gender—tend to consort with beauties. It’s only natural that their offspring would be beautiful too.”

“Hmm. That does make sense.”

“Haha, of course it does.”

“But if what you say is true, shouldn’t members of Taoist Sects, where marriage is forbidden, be less attractive?”

“Think about it. Let’s be honest here—it’s just between us—but take the Tai Chi Sword Saint from Wudang, for instance.”

As the man laughed and mentioned the Tai Chi Sword Saint, his companion across the table jumped up in alarm.

“You must have a death wish! Insulting the Tai Chi Sword Saint of Wudang here in Hubei?”

“Insulting? I haven’t even said anything yet.”

“Damn it. I’ve dug my own grave.”

The two men, now drunk, immediately fell silent.

But those who had overheard couldn’t help but quietly agree.

The individuals they’d seen from various clans had indeed been exceptionally attractive. However, that assumption was soon shattered—and ironically, it was Wudang that shattered it.

As the Wudang Taoists passed by, everyone fell silent, as if on cue.

Beside a Taoist who looked as rough and burly as a bear, there walked another Taoist of stunning beauty—like a sculpture carved from white jade.

“Wait… could she be someone from a clan who joined Wudang?”

The man who had been preaching the theory of ‘clan beauty’ scratched his head.

“Never seen that martial artist before.”

“Standing next to the Tai Chi Sword Saint… must be his designated successor.”

“The Tai Chi Sword Saint’s direct disciple? The one everyone’s saying is the tournament favorite?”

Everyone was stunned at those words.

The rumor that the Tai Chi Sword Saint had taken on a direct successor had shaken the entire Murim. Because the interest was so great, rumors quickly followed that this disciple was a genius sent from the heavens.

People imagined a towering, brawny martial artist—as one would expect from the disciple of the bear-like Tai Chi Sword Saint, and someone called a prodigy. But no one had expected such a slight, delicate-looking young woman. Only those who had seen the tournament participant registry in advance weren’t caught off guard.

Of course, swordsmanship doesn’t necessarily correlate with physique or size—but still, wasn’t this too much?

“…She looks even smaller standing next to the Tai Chi Sword Saint.”

Regardless of gender or build, she simply looked too fragile.

A heavy silence fell, and the crowd was in shock. Then someone snickered and broke the tension.

“Well, it seems this year the eyes are truly blessed.”

A face pure and radiant like a white magnolia. A healthy expression, as if nourished by sunlight itself.

Spectators nodded quietly to themselves, admiring the beauty of the Orthodox Sect disciples.

Namgung Hyun, Zhuge Cheon-yu, Zhuge Ji-hwi, the disciple of Wudang.

This was the beauty of the righteous path.

The aesthetic pleasure born of goodness.

As they soaked in that clear and refreshing energy and began to drink cheerfully again—

“Hey, what’s that over there?”

“What? Why is it only dark over there?”

A tree swaying in the wind had cast a shadow over one section of the street. To the drunken eyes of the onlookers, it felt as if a black cloud had descended.

But the shadow soon passed, revealing the group that had just entered.

Robes of green, deeper than new spring foliage, shimmered in the sunlight.

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