CRD 22

Chapter 22

In the end, Hwang In-hwa and Myeong left the square under suspicious and angry gazes.

In contrast, Mo Yong-bi walked among the crowd to cheers and applause.

“So that’s why you were asking about Ga-hang’s place yesterday! Truly admirable!”
“Next time, please do stop by our cloth shop! If there’s anything Confucius wants, we’ll hide it and sell it to you at wholesale prices!”
“Oh, please come to our Wolhyang-rū as well! Just mention the name Gi-hyang, and even if you have regular customers, you’ll be served first!”
“Now that I see it, young master, you’re thinner than I thought. Please come to our inn sometime; we’ll serve some restorative food for you.”

The psychology of the crowd was truly frightening.

No matter who spoke first or who had taken out the Black Tiger Gang alone, everyone clamored to invite him to their shops.

‘Their reactions reflect the history of the Black Tiger Gang,’ Mo Yong-bi thought.

Some of them may have been directly affected, others indirectly, and some may not have suffered at all. Yet they were all joyful.

It showed just how terrible the Black Tiger Gang had been to the common people.

‘A good start,’ he thought.

He had heard that the Ten Sword Sect and the Hong Clan Sword School were definitely orthodox sects.

Naturally, if they were orthodox, they wouldn’t let these trashy people exist freely. Yet they left them alone, and the people did not question it.

The reason was simple.

‘They know they could be stoned.’

The powerless peasants were not brainless. In terms of survival instinct, even martial artists cannot compare.

They instinctively knew that the powerful always formed alliances. But they deliberately tried to forget it, convincing themselves it wasn’t possible.

If they expressed doubt, they could quietly disappear without a trace—a truth learned over long years.

‘So it’s important to have them on your side.’

You have to poke them with truths they’ve long forgotten.

Only when they realize the truth and start raising their voices does public opinion form. Once public opinion gains strength, even a few powerful individuals cannot move recklessly.

In short, the fastest way for the powerless to build an impregnable wall is to gain public opinion.

While some of it was for his ancestral line, one reason he destroyed the Black Tiger Gang was to win the hearts of the people.

‘But this isn’t enough.’

It was only one gang.

Though they had plagued the streets for years, the fall of the Black Tiger Gang would not destroy the underworld.

There will always be black organizations, and trash will always appear. The Ten Sword Sect and Hong Clan Sword School could argue that they controlled them to prevent further chaos. And indeed, that kind of moderate control is often how streets and towns are maintained.

In a way, the imperial palace and government leaving martial artists alone is similar.

‘Anyway, this trend isn’t bad. For at least a few days, maybe up to a month, people will talk about the Black Tiger Gang and the young master.’

For any event to gain attention, there must be a protagonist. The public has no interest in stories without a main character.

‘Damn, it’s embarrassing,’ he thought.

…It was just a little embarrassing to be the “main character.”

‘All I did was destroy a gang of ruffians.’

For his clan, he could do even greater things. He could even dance naked in front of a huge crowd if it was for the family.

“For now, I’ll take my leave. You all have livelihoods to attend to, and I apologize if my actions have wasted your time.”

A touch of appropriate humility can turn a dying fire into a wildfire.

“Not at all, sir!”
“Thanks to you, the streets are clean now!”
“Ah, you’ll be blessed for sure.”
“If you want, come by for some restorative food. I’ll take care of your body for at least ten days, maybe a month!”

With such enthusiastic and almost desperate farewells from the crowd, Mo Yong-bi headed home.

Whoooosh.

Even in broad daylight, the wind felt cold.

Thinking about it, it had been less than a full day since he was revived, yet he had already experienced so much.

“Cold.”

Walking alone along the path, he felt a dull ache in his stomach.

He had tried to forget it, but the pain from internal injuries was significant.

“Cough, cough! Damn it.”

If he vomited here, it would almost certainly be blood.

‘Don’t waste it. Swallow it, man.’

He focused on controlling his energy, realizing it was better to stabilize his breathing and rest his body.

Closing his eyes, he spent over an hour catching his breath.

By focusing on his breathing and clearing his mind of stray thoughts, his head gradually felt clearer.

…Though the pain in his stomach remained.

“Phew.”

Even after an hour, it was still morning.

Perhaps because his mind was clear, a multitude of tasks came to mind.

‘The Black Tiger Gang is dealt with. Now I can really focus on the clan.’

With the money taken from Ga-hang, he had over 170,000 nyang—a huge sum.

Compared to the past fortune of the Mo Yong family, it was a mere pittance, but for the ‘current’ Mo Yong family, it could sustain them for several years.

Of course, depending on what business they pursued.

‘The first thing to fix is martial arts.’

Without the family members getting stronger, each day was like a candle before a typhoon.

Public opinion may be on their side, but…

‘At least for ten days, but even that may fade.’

When passion burns, it can engulf the sky; when it dies down, it vanishes with a single breath. Such is the will of the people.

People may admire a hero in the streets today, but soon enough, interest will wane.

Especially if powerful sects with infinite influence are watching.

‘They’ll praise in front, but gossip behind my back.’

Such is the crowd.

Mo Yong-bi understood them. It wasn’t that they were bad—it was that there was nothing they could do.

So he understood them, but he did not trust them.

The only things he trusted were his family and the judgment he had built up to now.

‘Martial arts… Well, I can make up a reason, but once transmission is possible, I’ll breathe easier.’

Mo Yong-su-jung’s face appeared in his mind.

Though slightly haggard, it was beautiful and exuded unwavering determination.

‘It might be impossible,’ he thought.

Even if she had a good heart, such a virtuous spirit would be hard to maintain without strength.

‘Ugh.’

His mind, cleared by meditation, began to tangle again.

‘Fine. I’ll go back for now.’

But first, he needed to take care of his body. At his current state, Mo Su-jung would worry.

So he practiced energy control for another hour before heading home.

Although internal injuries remained, his steps were lighter.

“Huh.”

Yang Hyo-myeong’s face was full of surprise.

“Truly amazing. Did the acting clan head also feel it?”

“Yes.”

“There’s dense yang energy in the major upper-body meridians. Small, but highly concentrated in each point.”

“Indeed.”

“Especially near the heart and lungs—it’s impressive. The channels there are sensitive to breath, so these areas often weaken. The acting clan head knows this well.”

“Yes.”

“With this pure energy aiding smooth, calm breathing, she won’t suffer from meridian channel issues for at least the next two years. With proper care, three years is no problem.”

He could have applauded, but Mo Su-jung’s face was not bright.

Yang Hyo-myeong continued.

“I heard the Grand Prince treated her.”

“…Yes.”

“This morning, I caught a glimpse of the Grand Prince’s complexion. Slightly tired, but not bad.”

“Is that what you saw?”

“Yes. Though I didn’t take her pulse.”

Mo Su-jung sighed.

Yang Hyo-myeong became serious.

“To implant such yang energy, one must either naturally have a yang-dominant constitution or possess extreme yang internal strength—or both.”

“….”

“If neither, then energy must have been drawn from elsewhere and transferred into her body.”

“…My sister was neither yang-dominant nor had extreme internal strength.”

“I know that.”

Mo Su-jung gritted her teeth.

She had much she wanted to say, but couldn’t voice it.

Yang Hyo-myeong looked at her seriously, organizing his thoughts.

“Regardless, your sister’s achievement is extraordinary. If one can perform energy transmission before turning twenty, it surpasses the advanced level in energy arts.”

Mo Su-jung looked at him with troubled eyes.

Was he trying to reassure her? Or was he genuinely amazed? His expression showed only admiration for Mo Yong-bi.

‘Bi-a.’

Thinking about it, it was indeed astonishing.

Mo Yong-bi was not without talent, but still couldn’t match Mo Su-hyang or herself, who benefited from the ‘seven-syllable meridians.’

Yet her younger brother transferred internal energy into someone else?

Energy transfer requires deep understanding of the human body and meridian system.

‘How is this even possible?’

Yang Hyo-myeong stood.

“Since I’m here, I should also examine your sister.”

“Yes, that would be appreciated.”

“No thanks needed—it’s only proper.”

“She won’t be home until evening,” Mo Su-jung said.

“Then we wait. I have plenty of time.”

Seeing Yang Hyo-myeong smile, Mo Su-jung felt a strange unease.

It had always been that way. He was a remarkable physician, one of the best at the Myeongjin Institute, and even took residence near the clan as her personal doctor.

Grateful, yes, but whenever she saw him, a subtle chill ran down her spine.

‘It’s because my body is weak,’ she thought.

When the body is weak, so too is the mind. She must still carry resentment toward the world.

“Take care of yourself first. Don’t overexert, even if you feel fine.”

“Thank you.”

At that moment:

“Acting clan head.”

A voice came from the doorway.

“What is it?”

“The young master has arrived.”

Mo Su-jung sprang up.

“Please, let him in.”