Now, a refreshingly cool breeze was blowing,
wrapping around the mountains, occasionally bringing a chill.
The burning red sun had lost its fierceness
and was now gently illuminating the world in the late autumn season.
A group was descending the mountain towards the village.
Some in the group wore long swords or sabers at their waists, and others held spears. All were clad in black robes of the same color and design, with lotus patterns of varying numbers embroidered near their right chests, indicating they were martial artists belonging to the same martial faction.
Leading the group with a buoyant stride was Kang Janghan, who was in a very good mood. He had just completed the mission of delivering a gift to the Emei Sect. Considering the significance and importance of the gift, the fact that the ruler had entrusted him with this task signified a high regard for him.
Operating a escort agency right at the foot of Mount Emei in Sichuan land meant being unavoidably subject to the influence of the Emei Sect, a prestigious family in Ganghwa and the de facto ruler of the Emei mountain area. Moreover, Jang Woo-yang, the head of the Central Armed Escort Agency to which Kang belonged, claimed to be an informal disciple of the Emei Sect, having learned a number of skills there, despite being a man and hence unable to receive formal martial arts training in the women-centric Emei Sect. Jang Woo-yang, known as the 'Eighteen Swords,' had cunningly acquired quite a bit of martial knowledge from the sect.
Jang Woo-yang's nickname, 'Eighteen Swords,' was given by the martial arts community because his sword techniques displayed 18 variations and produced 18 sword shadows when executed. The sword forms, which were said to change 18 times, were taught to Jang Woo-yang by the Emei Sect.
Therefore, Jang Woo-yang, claiming to be a disciple of the Emei Sect, regularly sent gifts to the Emei Sect, and the Emei Sect acknowledged this relationship. This made the delivery of gifts to the Emei Sect one of the most important tasks for the Central Armed Escort Agency. There's a common misconception that prestigious orthodox factions or major martial arts factions can sustain themselves without any financial activities, but this is far from the truth.
Like any other, these factions needed money to survive. The world is not so simple; financial resources are essential for daily activities. Even Taoist or Buddhist monks who distance themselves from worldly affairs need money to sustain their practices. Since wealth doesn't just fall from the sky, they need to generate income somehow. Donations and gifts are a way of securing financial support.
Even small and large martial arts factions in the secular world often operate businesses like inns, entertainment establishments, or escort agencys to maintain their factions. They also accept payments for protecting the vulnerable within their influence. More renowned factions sometimes ask for substantial donations as a condition for accepting disciples.
It's common for wealthy families to make generous donations for their children to be admitted to major factions. However, factions that claim to seek ultimate enlightenment and practice martial arts for higher purposes cannot overtly expand their influence or engage in commercial activities for sustenance. Maintaining their dignity and public image was as crucial as sustaining their livelihood.
Even temples or Taoist temples, labeled as such, accept offerings and donations. These are a form of tribute to Buddha, representing one's sincerity. Common temples and Taoist temples largely depend on these donations for their livelihood. However, for well-known martial arts factions associated with temples or Taoist temples, the income generated under the guise of donations and offerings is substantial. The revenue flows in from specific individuals or factions.
Another method to secure funds involves accepting secular disciples. There's a saying, "A well-trained disciple is worth more than ten children."
A disciple, after learning the martial and Taoist secrets from a faction and achieving success in the secular world, might say, "The grace I received here is as vast as the sea and sky. I can never fully repay it. As a humble token of my gratitude and in the spirit of repaying my debt, I regularly offer these modest gifts. If this can offset even a fraction of the immense kindness I've received, it would be my great joy."
The amount of money offered in such instances is significant. How could a faction refuse such earnestness, especially when a disciple seeks to repay the kindness received? Regardless of the internal motives, transactions are often carried out in a similar manner on the surface. This practice has become a tradition in the martial arts world. Bi Ryu-yeon once commented on this situation:
"Just teach a few hand and foot movements and make a big deal out of it. Maybe I should raise a disciple too. Seems like a profitable venture…"
In essence, if a faction's disciple faces trouble in the secular world, the faction promptly intervenes. They might subtly or strongly influence the situation to alleviate the disciple's suffering. This is essentially protection through power. From that moment on, the disciple, feeling indebted for their contributions, starts to leverage their faction's influence and begins to assert themselves more assertively in the secular world.
For this reason, the task of presenting gifts was a significant and careful event for those under the shadow of the great martial factions. Kang Jang-han was happily descending the mountain, having successfully completed the important task entrusted to him. Feeling elated, he overflowed with spirit and felt the need to show his leadership to his subordinates.
"Great, I'm in high spirits. Everyone, gather at Night Spring Tower! I'll buy all the drinks today. Let's drink to our heart's content once we get down. Today, let's drink like there's no tomorrow!"
Night Spring Tower was a famous tavern near the Central Armed Escort Agency, known for its beautiful hostesses. Since ancient times, there has been no one in the martial world who dislikes free drinks. Everyone raised their weapons into the air and cheered loudly.
"Woah!"
"Great Captain Kang is the best."
"Great Captain Kang is so generous."
"Let's die drinking today, Great Captain Kang."
"Who needs tomorrow when we're drinking today? Let's live for today, Great Captain Kang."
The subordinates of the escort agency were all excited, each emphasizing the word 'Great Captain' while addressing Kang Jang-han. He wasn't known for having a pleasant personality, and there had been an incident where a subordinate was severely beaten for addressing him simply as 'Captain Kang' without the 'Great (大).' Kang Jang-han hated when people omitted 'Great' while addressing him. Since that incident, everyone made sure to call him 'Great Captain Kang,' even his peers, emphasizing the 'Great' in their address. Although Kang Jang-han had a nasty temper, he was also not someone to be taken lightly in terms of skill.
As everyone emphasized the 'Great' while addressing him, Kang Jang-han felt exceptionally pleased. Then, his attention was caught by a man in rags, carrying a shoulder yoke, climbing up the mountain. The man's hair was unkempt and wild, his clothes tattered, and he carried a yoke with water containers on each side. Since the mountain path was the only way up and down, the group of people and the man were bound to meet.
The man struggling with the water yoke up the mountain was Tang Cheol-young, the youngest of the three sons of the current head of the Sichuan Tang family, a renowned family in Sichuan known for its expertise in poisons and hidden weapons. Seeing him, Kang Jang-han spoke dismissively.
"What's that now?"
Tang Cheol-young was in a bad mood. He had just gone through a strenuous training session in the valley, alternating between water and land exercises, which had drained his strength. He could feel that his training was nearing its end, but it was just as challenging and exhausting as when it began. No matter how skilled he became, the fatigue seemed to remain constant. As he got more adept, the training only got more demanding, keeping him perpetually tired.
In the current situation, Tang Cheol-young felt deeply insulted by his master's command to fetch water, especially after being drained of all his strength from the rigorous training. He could hardly move a finger, and hearing someone rudely say, "What's that now?" about him, his frustration reached its peak. He looked up to see Kang Jang-han's group descending the mountain. Tang Cheol-young's eyes sparkled with interest.
'A martial artist, which faction do they belong to?'
He rarely interacted with anyone from Ami Faction and had never encountered other martial artists on this mountain. He observed them with curiosity.
'They don't look very impressive. Nothing special.'
As Tang Cheol-young was contemplating, a member of the group approached him. Judging by his attire, he seemed to be a low-ranking martial artist.
"You there, get out of the way immediately. Our great captain, Kang Jang-han of the Central Armed Escort Agency, is passing by. Remove your filthy self from his sight quickly! Ugh, the smell…"
One of the escorts tried to shove Tang Cheol-young to the side of the road. Enraged by the disrespect, a spark ignited in Tang Cheol-young's eyes. He had never been treated so rudely before, except by his master. In fact, there had been nobody else who had dared to treat him like this.
"Oh, what's this light in his eyes… Mo-move aside…"
The escort's legs began to tremble, and his speech faltered, utterly intimidated by Tang Cheol-young's glare.
"You should be the ones to move aside. Let go," Tang Cheol-young demanded as he reached for the wrist of the low-ranking martial artist from Central Armed Escort Agency. He then twisted the escort's arm in an unnatural direction that would be impossible under normal circumstances.
"Aaaargh!"
With a scream, the escort who had tried to shove Tang Cheol-young aside clutched his wrist and tumbled to the side of the road. Tang Cheol-young was known for his hot temper. Once he got angry, no one could stop him; he was a force to be reckoned with.
"This shitty runt!"
The rest of the group, seeing their comrade attacked, flew into a rage and drew their weapons. It would have been strange for them to just stand by and watch.
"What are you doing, boy?"
Kang Jang-han asked Tang Cheol-young, surprised.
Even though his comrade was from a lower social status, he was still a martial artist, and one of Kang Jang-han's own trained men at that. Escorts always needed to be well-trained, as their skill directly related to their survival. For escorts in the service, improving their skills meant extending their lifespan and increasing the security and success rate of their missions. This, in turn, meant less risk, fewer failures, and consequently, lower compensation costs – all of which translate to increased profits.
Simply put, it meant 'revenue increase.' Therefore, the escort agency regularly trained their escorts. As the leader, Kang Jang-han had a responsibility to train his subordinates. The man who had just been taken down by Tang Cheol-young was one of his trainees. The ease with which he was defeated suggested that Tang Cheol-young was quite skilled.
"What are you doing, you bastard?"
"Shut up and come at me, you shithead."
For nearly five months, precisely four months and five days, Tang Cheol-young's already challenging personality had grown even more rough and unruly. This was not unique to him alone; everyone who had come with him exhibited the same phenomenon, varying only in degree. They all had changed significantly due to their harsh and demanding master, resulting in their speech becoming more aggressive and violent. Harsh words can wound the heart, and hurt often manifests as anger. One of the escorts, enraged, charged at Tang Cheol-young with a longsword.
"You brat, die!"
Tang Cheol-young effortlessly dodged the oncoming attack by stepping back with one foot and twisting his waist. He then kicked the belly of his off-balance assailant with great force.
"Ugh."
The attacker collapsed, clutching his stomach. More men rushed at Tang Cheol-young, but the result was the same; all ended up on the ground, writhing in pain. Tang Cheol-young deftly avoided them with his precarious steps, kicking their stomachs and striking their heads with his fists.
"You're quite skilled. Must be confident, huh?" remarked Kang Jang-han, who had been watching until now. He slowly approached Tang Cheol-young, drawing his sword from his waist. The situation had escalated to the point where he had to intervene. It was a classic scenario where the leader steps in at the climax.
"I'll take you on."
It was a clichéd line.
'That must be their leader. Dammit, I've got no strength left…'
Exhausted from rigorous training, Tang Cheol-young was struggling to move. However, he couldn't afford to show weakness to his opponent, as losing momentum would mean defeat.
'Tang Cheol-young, show your strength!'
Gathering his resolve, Tang Cheol-young removed the water yoke from his shoulders and set it aside.
"Here I come!"
Kang Jang-han kindly gave a warning before attacking. His sword, forming a circular arc, aimed at Tang Cheol-young's shoulder.
'Huh, not too fast.'
To Tang Cheol-young, Kang Jang-han's movements, including the trajectory of his sword, were clearly visible. Compared to the swords and blades he had faced during his training with the Vermillion Bird team members, Kang Jang-han's blade seemed sluggish. In reality, it wasn't that Kang's swordplay was slow, but to Tang, it appeared so.
"Swoosh."
"Ugh."
Tang Cheol-young's right shoulder was slightly slashed, bleeding. He hadn't managed to dodge the sword, which he thought was slow enough to avoid. Confused for a moment, Tang realized that it wasn't due to any exceptional skill in Kang's sword technique. His heightened vision, a result of intensive training, could clearly see the opponent's blade. However, his body, fatigued to its limits, failed to respond quickly enough to his nervous system's signals.
Following that, he sustained superficial cuts on his left arm, left thigh, and right leg. His body continuously failed to react in time, deepening the wounds. Realizing he couldn't keep on receiving blows, Tang quickly dodged a sword strike aimed at his neck by ducking and swiftly picked up a pebble from the ground, throwing it at Kang Jang-han.
"Ah!"
"Huh?"
"Ah!" was a startled cry from Kang Jang-han, surprised by Tang Cheol-young's unexpected attack. The latter part of the exclamation came from Tang himself, shocked at how slowly the thrown stone had traveled. The heavy iron bracelets on his wrists, meant only to impede, were a burden. Already weakened, with the addition of the 40-pounds bracelets, his usual power and speed were impossible to achieve.
For Tang, the stone seemed slow, but it apparently wasn't for Kang Jang-han. Perhaps it was too fast? Kang barely managed to dodge the stone, a clear indication of his slow reaction.
Both were flustered, but Tang regained his composure first. He quickly capitalized on Kang's disarray from dodging the stone and charged in. Tang closed in within the effective range of Kang's sword, using every bit of his strength for a sudden burst, and struck Kang's head with his fist.
"Thud."
"Crack."
Kang's head turned to the left.
"Thud."
"Crack."
Now, his head spun to the right.
"Sploosh!"
Blood sprayed from Kang's mouth. Unrelenting, Tang continued his assault on Kang's body. The only thing left from his five months of training was his strength.
"Take this, Three Dog Days Pummeling Fist Technique!"
Tang's fists rained down on Kang, battering him as if to claim retribution for all the injuries he had suffered. As Tang prepared to deliver a fourth punch to Kang's jaw…
"Thud."
A flash of lightning seemed to strike from the back of his head.