49 — A Splendid Outing (2)

At the Lotus Guesthouse in Zhengzhou, Henan, just in front of the Murim Alliance, Neung Je-gang had been staying for several days.

His daily routine was simple. At night he slept, and when he woke, he would climb up to the guesthouse terrace, order a pot of tea, and stare blankly at the street.

He paid no attention to what people might be saying about him. Even today, he reheated the cooled tea with Sammae Jin Fire and drank it slowly, passing the time.

On the surface, he looked peaceful. But who could know that inwardly he was boiling with frustration?

“Majil, that brat… just let him show up.”

Yet outwardly he never let his dignified appearance falter.

“Why is he so late? Did I make a mistake? We weren’t supposed to move separately… Could it be he thought the Hyunhyeon Clan was based in Suzhou? By now, he should already be here….”

At first, he simply waited. Then he worried. Then he squirmed with boredom. This cycle became his daily routine.

“Could something have happened to him on the way?”

The martial world was never a safe place. Someone like Majil, who had never truly faced the dangers of Murim, could easily stumble into trouble, dragged into the undercurrents, and end up stabbed to death in some dark alley.

“Still… once called Human-Faced Weasel, surely he hasn’t gone down so easily.”

Je-gang forced himself to deny his grim imagination.

“But why hasn’t he come yet? Did that brat wander off somewhere?”

It was possible. After all, Majil had spent years locked away in Geumma-roe, then learning martial arts under Bibeun. Now he was finally out in the world again. Surrounded by glittering streets and beautiful women, maybe his eyes had turned and he had strayed off the path.

“Surely he’s not still in Hangzhou?”

Je-gang was forced to consider even that ominous thought.

Just then, voices nearby reached his sharp ears.

“Ah, I’m telling you it’s true. Why would I be making things up while eating an expensive meal? From Hangzhou all the way to Deokcheong, in every town the most vicious men have all been ruined by that Blazing Flame Master. He set everything ablaze, so nothing was left standing. Isn’t that spectacular?”

“Fire…?”

An ominous chill struck Je-gang’s entire body. Why was Majil’s face the first to come to mind?

He listened even more intently.

“What happened? He got caught, of course. You think the ones he hit were ordinary people? Sure, they lost everything in the flames, but they still had land, and plenty of wealth spread about. So they reported him to the authorities, and now the officials are tracking the Blazing Flame Master.”

“They say he’s a Murim expert. How did he get caught?”

“It was obvious. The same carriage kept appearing in the towns where the fires broke out. Imagine it—wouldn’t you grow suspicious if every time that carriage showed up, fire followed?”

“I see… so what happened then?”

“I don’t know. I heard he fled toward Mount Maggan, but nothing more has reached here yet. Anyway, I hope he doesn’t get caught.”

“Why?”

“Come on, man! Who else in Murim these days punishes the wicked like that? Not even the Murim Alliance bothers anymore. So isn’t it good that someone like the Blazing Flame Master showed up?”

“Still… setting fires is a bit much, isn’t it?”

“Maybe so. But tell me—would those kinds of people ever repent otherwise? Only when they lose everything do such scum straighten up.”

Je-gang sipped the cold tea, his mind racing. No matter how he looked at it, this ‘Blazing Flame Master’ could only be Majil.

“So he’s finally causing real trouble.”

Part of him felt relief. At least Majil was targeting villains.

Je-gang never worried about Majil being captured. So long as he remained above ground, no one could catch him.

What worried him was that with this kind of chaos, who knew when he’d actually show up here.

“Ah, damn!”

His grip tightened.

Crack.

The teacup shattered to powder in his hand.

People nearby glanced at him, then quickly looked away. No doubt they were already calculating how fast they could spread the rumor: the idle guest who lazed about the terrace was secretly a Murim master.

Meanwhile, Majil had passed Deokcheong and abandoned his carriage.

He had been too exuberant, and it had drawn attention. If he had stopped after Hangzhou, he wouldn’t be in this mess.

Now the constables and patrol officers from Hangzhou and Deokcheong were after him. Majil veered toward a great mountain looming to his left.

He could have tunneled underground and escaped easily—but he didn’t want to. Now that he knew he wasn’t weak, why should he hide in the earth in fear?

But soon, he regretted ever learning the Earth Elemental Energy Art.

Mount Maggan.

Its name came from the legendary couple Ganjiang and Moye, famed swordsmiths of the Spring and Autumn period, said to have lived there.

True artisans walk a single path their whole lives. Talent, a great teacher, and skill were all vital, but above all, the most important thing was fine materials. Wherever artisans lived, unique and unmatched materials were found.

That was Mount Maggan. Ganjiang and Moye had lived there because they could find excellent materials for sword-making. But in their time, it was bronze, not iron. Their bronze forging skills were so advanced that they could craft blades able to cut through steel itself.

Majil had thought he could flee over Mount Maggan—but soon realized his mistake.

His greatest weakness? Lightness arts. He could run swiftly on the ground, but unlike the pursuers, he could not soar from tree to tree. They weren’t Neung Je-gang, but compared to Majil, they could fly.

He had to run, while they glided overhead. Escaping them over the mountain was impossible.

“Damn it!”

Majil broke his own promise from only hours ago: not to hide underground.

“I can’t fight the officials. Damn it all.”

He tunneled into Mount Maggan’s earth, then camouflaged the hole with fallen leaves.

Pushing forward underground, he suddenly hit upon something unexpected.

“What the—there’s a cave here?”

Before him yawned a dark cavern.

Majil conjured flames in his hand and looked around.

“Did people live here once?”

First, he spotted the broken remains of a cart, its wooden wheels still intact.

“So, an abandoned mine.”

That seemed to be the case. And with no light at all, it was likely sealed off, just like Geumma-roe.

“Looks like a mine collapse left only this space intact. But what kind of mine was it?”

He picked up a lump of earth near the cart’s remains. It wasn’t like the iron ore he had seen before, but still contained metal.

“Perfect. I’ll train here until the constables give up and leave. The chief said that if I master the Metal Elemental Energy Art, even a blade strike won’t kill me. Then I’ll never have to hide again.”

His hands trembled as he shouted with determination. In his mind, the constables had already shrunk into mere patrolmen.

Majil trained hard in the Metal Elemental Energy Art, sneaking out to gather fruit or hunt when hungry.

After about ten days, the officers withdrew. They couldn’t linger forever for one fugitive.

By the time Majil completed part of his training and hurried down the mountain toward the Murim Alliance, Je-gang had already spent a month waiting at the gates, fending off boredom and worry.

If Majil were ever captured by the authorities, it could expose everything. News of Geumma-roe’s prison break would reach the East Depot. And if Majil spoke carelessly, everyone at Huigye Fortress could be executed.

And so Je-gang endured—rain or wind, every day waiting in front of the Murim Alliance for a whole month.

Then one morning, like any other, he awoke and went to the terrace. His money was nearly gone, and in a few days he might be thrown out into the street.

So he skipped breakfast, ordered just a pot of tea, and again sat waiting.

That was when he saw him.

On the road from Zhengzhou, a shabby figure in red trudged forward.

Majil.

“That brat…!”

Je-gang had promised himself he’d beat some sense into him.

But the relief and joy swelling in his chest were undeniable.