Chapter 50
The Beginning of Resurrection (4)
In the end, Gocheok and the White Dragon Squad had no choice but to quietly withdraw, taking Huang’s father and daughter with them.
As they passed through the marketplace, the crowd did not hurl a single insult at them. Instead, they simply glared with eyes filled with rage and disgust.
Once the forces of the Seven Swords Sect disappeared, the crowd erupted in cheers again.
“Long live Young Master Moyong!”
“Waaahhh!”
“This is so satisfying! Truly!”
“Free! Free tonics for everyone!”
“You like the Seven-String Zither, right? Come to our pavilion today! I’ll play it for you myself!”
“Actually, we have several barrels of our house’s secret wine. You can get drunk and cause chaos today—no, please come! I’ll be the one causing the chaos!”
The crowd’s fervent cheers continued.
Moyong Bi gave a bitter smile and bowed slightly to them all before turning away.
“Let’s go.”
Even as they left the marketplace, the cheers did not stop.
Only when they entered a narrow side street did the group finally relax.
“My ears are still ringing.”
“I blocked mine with inner energy halfway through.”
Moyong Suyoung let out a soft laugh.
Moyong Bi asked calmly,
“How was it?”
“What do you mean?”
“The crowd’s reaction.”
“What do you think? It was incredibly satisfying. You dragged Huang Zhihua into the marketplace on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“I was a bit worried. It looked like you had something planned, but…”
“If it had truly been dangerous, I would have said we should flee.”
“Honestly, I did feel it was dangerous. But… I also felt like we wouldn’t need to run.”
“Why?”
After a brief hesitation, Moyong Suyoung shook her head.
“I don’t know. Just a feeling.”
“A feeling, huh.”
“But…”
She trailed off, then stopped herself. Still, it felt like she could say it.
“I was a little scared.”
“….”
“This whole thing… didn’t it succeed partly because of those people?”
“It succeeded entirely because of them. Like you said, we went to the marketplace to use their help.”
“So you set the stage?”
“An actor needs a stage to perform. Without that atmosphere, I wouldn’t have provoked them so easily.”
“That’s a different topic, but… you really have a terrifying talent for provoking people.”
“I simply stated facts. In truth, it’s closer to them digging their own grave. I just pointed at the rope and shook it.”
It was no different from stabbing someone and claiming they had stabbed themselves.
“Anyway, you used the crowd to corner them. It was satisfying to watch, but… that kind of thing isn’t easy. What were you relying on?”
“It looks like I used them, but I was simply riding their emotions.”
“What do you mean?”
Moyong Bi looked up at the sky.
Not a single cloud was visible, yet the echoes of the crowd’s frenzy seemed to linger faintly.
“‘The will of the people is the will of heaven.’ It sounds grand, but it isn’t. If you pay attention, reading people’s emotions and the atmosphere isn’t that difficult.”
“….”
“In other words, anyone with enough experience can understand the will of heaven.”
Moyong Suyoung listened closely.
“But most people can’t. Do you know why?”
“….”
“Because it’s too bothersome for them to listen.”
Why did that feel so unsettling?
“Ask an innkeeper what the local atmosphere is like. Ask a fabric shop owner if business is hard lately. It’s not difficult.”
“….”
“But most powerful people don’t do it. No—they don’t want to. Because they find it bothersome.”
“Why is it bothersome?”
“More precisely, because they’ve started to see people as bothersome beings.”
“…!”
“Money? It comes from people. Legitimacy? From human relationships. Honor? Does it matter in the beast world? No—it only matters among people.”
Moyong Bi sighed.
“In the end, people are everything. Once you forget that and think you accomplished everything alone, all that’s left is decline.”
“….”
“And once you start going downhill, it’s hard to stop. Even if you know it’s wrong, it’s hard to stop a rolling carriage. That’s what habit is.”
Did you go through that too?
Moyong Suyoung wanted to ask that.
“If you’re just a little diligent, you may not gain public favor—but you won’t be hated.”
She forced a smile.
“That’s rich coming from you. You caused more trouble than anyone.”
“True. It’s not something I should say.”
Moyong Bi looked up again.
Small fragments of clouds had begun to drift across the once-clear sky.
“So I’m trying to live in a way that at least makes me worthy of speaking like this.”
Something surged in Moyong Suyoung’s chest.
With trembling eyes, she looked at her brother and clicked her tongue.
“Stop pretending. I don’t believe you.”
“I finally try to look cool, and you ruin it?”
“Because it’s not cool. Ugh!”
Moyong Bi smiled.
“I’m scared too.”
“Now what?”
“You said you were scared of the crowd? So am I.”
“…Hmm.”
“Today we benefited from them. But if the situation were different, they could have turned on us. What would have happened then?”
Just imagining it gave chills.
“But that didn’t happen.”
“Because the Seven Swords Sect had sins of its own.”
“…If they had even slightly behaved better, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“Well said. The hearts of oppressed people breed resentment. And there is nothing more terrifying than resentment.”
“And if there’s no resentment?”
“That depends on the situation. But remember this one thing.”
Moyong Bi’s eyes sharpened.
“Humans always conceal cruelty within themselves.”
“….”
“People who enjoy watching others—who are in the same vulnerable position—fall into ruin. People who crave sudden bloodshed after living peaceful lives. There are many such people in the martial world.”
Jin Gwang, who had been following behind, nodded silently.
Moyong Bi continued:
“Watch people carefully. Not for your family—but for yourself.”
“….”
“That is more important than martial arts or wealth.”
It was a lesson that struck deep into the heart.
Something more valuable than anything he might learn in decades to come.
“I’ve spoken too much. Well, you’ll learn as you go.”
“You really can’t stop talking.”
“Experience matters more than theory.”
“Speaking of which, what will the Seven Swords Sect do now? Won’t they seek revenge?”
That was the most worrying part.
Moyong Bi shook his head.
“Revenge? They won’t even have the chance. They’ll be torn apart internally.”
“Internal conflict?”
“The Hong Clan Sword House’s… what was it called again?”
“The Blood Sword Unit’s Third Squad! At least remember that!”
“Right, the Third Squad. Those red-clad swordsmen went to the Seven Swords Sect, didn’t they?”
“Not exactly confirmed, though?”
At that moment, Yeonpyeong spoke.
“It seems confirmed.”
“Oh?”
“They headed west from the marketplace. I saw them returning the same way the Young Master came earlier.”
Moyong Suyoung turned to her brother.
“So?”
“Even if they didn’t go there, it doesn’t matter. The sect master is crippled, morale is shattered, finances are in chaos, and even an elder has gone missing. Do you think the Hong Clan Sword House will leave them alone?”
“…Ah!”
“The Seven Swords Sect should be worrying about the Hong Clan Sword House now. They won’t be able to handle it.”
Moyong Suyoung finally exclaimed in admiration.
“You really think fast.”
“Don’t call your brother ‘head’ like that.”
“So… is it over? More or less?”
“Over? Not even close.”
Moyong Bi smiled brightly.
“This is just the beginning.”
The next day
From early morning, the Moyong family was busy. By sunset, things finally settled into quiet.
Or rather—into solemnity.
The entire Flame Sword Unit stood guard at various posts, their faces more tense than usual.
Night came.
At the exact hour of Xu (戌時), Moyong Suyang, Moyong Suyoung, Seok Woong, and Gwak No gathered before the ancestral hall.
“Where is Bi-ah?”
“He will arrive shortly.”
“I see.”
Moyong Suyoung sighed.
“He never changes, does he…”
“Suyoung.”
“It’s a memorial service. He’s skipped it drunk every time before.”
Moyong Sujeong remained calm.
“He will come.”
“…Tch.”
Time passed.
Gwak No cautiously spoke.
“Shall we light the candles and incense?”
“Yes, please.”
The doors of the ancestral hall opened.
As candles were lit, rows of ancestral tablets came into view.
Moyong Sujeong knelt at the front and bowed. Moyong Suyoung, Seok Woong, and Gwak No followed.
After some time—
Whoooosh.
A gust of wind stirred their robes.
Moyong Suyoung turned—and her eyes widened.
‘What is he doing?!’
Moyong Bi had arrived. No—her foolish brother had appeared again.
But his attire was different.
He wore a luxurious silk robe he rarely ever used, so oversized it looked like he was wrapped in a blanket. The shoulders didn’t fit, and his hands were almost hidden.
“…I’m going to kill him.”
As Suyoung trembled in rage, Moyong Bi walked past her and stood beside Sujeong.
Moyong Sujeong lifted her head.
“You’re late.”
He did not answer, only looked at the incense burner.
Sujeong saw something in his eyes—grief and despair too deep to hide.
“Shall we light incense?”
“No.”
Moyong Bi smiled faintly.
“Gwak No.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“Give me fire.”
A brazier was brought.
Moyong Bi carefully folded his outer robe and placed it before the incense burner.
Then he lit it.
Fwoooosh!
The silk ignited instantly, flames swallowing it whole as smoke rose.
Moyong Suyoung shouted.
“What are you doing?!”
“Miss.”
Gwak No said in a trembling voice,
“The Young Master is offering a prayer to the ancestors.”
“By burning his clothes?!”
“No.”
Gwak No shook his head.
“In the old Moyong family tradition, during memorial rites, a representative would burn a fine garment and entrust their soul to the ancestors.”
“…!”
“If the family prospered, that soul would not return to the world, but instead watch over the clan forever.”
“…There was such a thing?”
“It is forgotten. Even past heads only experienced it a few times.”
“….”
“It was abolished as a useless ritual…”
Gwak No wanted to ask how Moyong Bi knew such forgotten history.
But his gaze silenced all questions.
Through the flames, Moyong Bi looked at the ancestral tablets.
‘Brother… Da-ho…’
His eyes trembled with the firelight.
‘Do not worry. The Moyong family will rise again.’
Tears finally fell from his eyes.
‘Rest now, in peace.’
It had been five days since Moyong Cheon’s soul entered the body of his descendant.
On that night—
The Moyong family quietly lit the signal fire of rebirth.
