Chapter: 17
A week had passed since the clan head had issued his order.
Yet Namgung Cheon had taken no action whatsoever.
Because of that, some of the elders still held out hope for the Third Young Master, but most of them couldn’t hide their concern.
No matter how brilliantly he had performed during the martial tournament, the general opinion was that Namgung Cheon was still too young and inexperienced to handle a complicated matter involving the Four Black Lotus on his own.
In particular, the mockery led by the Seventh Elder, Namgung Do, became more blatant with each passing day.
“Tsk, tsk. Whatever happened to that intimidating spirit of his? Now he’s shut himself inside his residence and won’t even come out.”
“He talked big, but now that it’s time to act, he’s gotten scared.”
Their ridicule spread throughout the Namgung Clan.
Yet the man at the center of those rumors, Namgung Cheon, was nowhere to be seen.
At that very moment, in front of Namgung Cheon’s residence.
Cutting through the cool morning air, the swords of Namgung Cheon and Mujin crossed.
Clang!
Their blades collided in midair dozens of times.
Just as Namgung Cheon’s sword slipped through an opening and came to rest against Mujin’s throat, Mujin’s sword also stopped precisely in front of Namgung Cheon’s heart.
“Hoo…”
Mujin let out a short breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
“Your sword grows sharper with each passing day. Before long, I doubt I’ll even be worthy of exchanging ten moves with you, Young Master.”
It was hard to believe such sincere admiration had come from a Transcendent Realm master who was also the disciple of the Wolf King.
Without replying, Namgung Cheon lowered his sword and walked toward the table.
The tea that had been prepared beforehand had already begun to cool.
With practiced hands, he poured tea into two cups.
Mujin sat across from him, emptied his cup in one gulp, then absentmindedly rolled the empty cup between his fingers before finally asking the question he had been holding back for days.
“Young Master.”
“Speak.”
“Is it truly alright to remain like this?”
Mujin looked outside the residence, toward the south.
“The rumors are getting worse. They say you’ve hidden away because you were frightened… that you’ve already given up.”
He frowned in confusion.
“With your strength, you could march into Hefei this very moment and cut down a handful of prominent unorthodox martial artists. That alone would silence all those mouths… So why are you doing nothing?”
The Namgung Cheon Mujin knew was a man quicker and more decisive than anyone.
Yet now, when it mattered most, he remained completely still.
Namgung Cheon slowly took a sip of tea.
Only after savoring its slightly bitter flavor did he set the cup down.
“When muddy water has been stirred up, do you know how one sees what’s lying at the bottom?”
“…Muddy water?”
“If you stir it even more by force, the water only becomes cloudier.”
His gaze settled upon the clear tea inside his cup.
“You leave it alone. Given enough time, the heavy things sink while the light things drift away. Only then can you finally see the stones resting on the bottom.”
Only then did Mujin realize Namgung Cheon’s true intention.
The clan head’s return and Namgung Cheon’s exploits during the martial tournament had stirred up an enormous cloud of mud throughout Anhui’s underworld.
Right now, the unorthodox sects were fighting among themselves while simultaneously watching the Namgung Clan with extreme caution.
To interfere rashly now and turn every faction into an enemy would be the worst possible strategy.
Namgung Cheon was waiting.
Waiting until the weak, those unworthy of surviving this chaos, eliminated one another.
“Then how much longer do you intend to wait?”
At Mujin’s question, Namgung Cheon looked up toward the sky.
The midday sun blazed overhead.
“One week.”
A cold smile spread across his lips.
“That should have been enough time for most of the dust to settle.”
He stood up.
“It’s time to see which stones remain.”
The Mysterious Strategy Pavilion.
The heart of the Namgung Clan, where every piece of information gathered and every plan began.
Namgung Cheon’s first step was to obtain information there.
As he approached the pavilion, the door opened as though it had been expecting him.
An elderly man dressed in a scholar’s robe emerged.
It was Namgung Hak, known as the Ink Mysterious Lord, master of the Mysterious Strategy Pavilion and the clan head’s chief strategist.
“I have been waiting for you, Third Young Master.”
Namgung Hak immediately led him inside.
The pavilion’s interior resembled an entire world unto itself, where dozens of military strategists tirelessly carried books and maps from place to place.
Staring at the enormous map covering the wall, Namgung Cheon got straight to the point.
“I want information on every unorthodox sect in Anhui that has even the slightest reputation.”
Namgung Hak’s eyebrows twitched slightly.
Without a word, he issued an order.
Moments later, dozens of books were stacked before Namgung Cheon like a small mountain.
“This is everything the Mysterious Strategy Pavilion knows.”
Having said that, Namgung Hak quietly left the room.
Standing before the mountain of information, Namgung Cheon immediately picked up the book lying on top.
Rustle.
His eyes moved effortlessly across the pages.
Compared to the flood of reports that poured in during the Great War between the Orthodox and Demonic factions, this is insignificant.
It took him only half a quarter-hour to finish a single volume.
After reading each one, he discarded the useless books onto the floor, placed meaningful ones to his left, and set aside those requiring further judgment to his right.
Half a day later.
Curious about his progress, Namgung Hak quietly returned to the room.
The sight before him made him doubt his own eyes.
The mountain of books had disappeared.
Most of them now lay scattered across the floor.
Only four books remained on the table.
“…You’ve already gone through all of them?”
Namgung Hak asked in a trembling voice.
“Thank you. They were quite useful, Pavilion Master.”
After answering briefly, Namgung Cheon silently looked down at the four remaining books.
Not enough.
He muttered inwardly.
The pavilion’s information accurately presented the overall situation of each faction.
But…
The most important thing is missing.
A cold light flashed across his eyes.
Having finished his assessment, he stood.
After giving Namgung Hak a respectful nod, he left the pavilion.
Once Namgung Cheon was gone…
Namgung Hak remained alone in the empty room for a long while without moving.
His gaze alternated between the dozens of books scattered across the floor and the four left on the table.
How did he accomplish this in only half a day?
The information he had given Namgung Cheon represented decades of accumulated intelligence on every unorthodox force in Anhui.
It contained outdated records of sects that no longer existed, the complicated alliances and betrayals between countless factions, and the rise and fall of innumerable figures, all tangled together like threads.
Even the pavilion’s own strategists needed several sleepless days to grasp the current state of affairs.
Yet Namgung Cheon had identified the four most critical sects with flawless accuracy in only half a day.
With trembling hands, Namgung Hak picked up one of the four books.
“So… you truly have been hiding your abilities all this time.”
And now that Namgung Cheon had finally revealed his claws…
Namgung Hak’s gaze drifted unconsciously toward the Azure Dragon Pavilion, the residence of the Young Clan Heir.
Until now, no one had doubted that its master was the Eldest Young Master, Namgung Hui, who was serving with the Martial Alliance.
But…
…Perhaps that will begin to change.
Namgung Hak swallowed hard.
As the sun set and the oil lanterns hanging throughout Hefei’s bustling streets gradually drove away the day’s heat…
Namgung Cheon left the Namgung estate with Mujin.
“You said the information wasn’t enough. So where are we going?”
Mujin asked as they walked through the darkening streets.
“You’ll know once we get there.”
Namgung Cheon’s steps finally stopped in a filthy back alley several turns away from the brightly lit main street lined with luxurious taverns.
At the deepest part of the alley stood an old inn.
Its faded signboard, with most of the paint peeled away, barely revealed the words Drunken Moon Inn.
It was a shabby establishment utterly unworthy of such an elegant name.
Creak—
As they pushed open the worn wooden door, the stale smell of alcohol, sweat, and loud shouting washed over them.
The inn was already packed with drunken thugs roaring at the tops of their lungs.
The arrival of Namgung Cheon and Mujin, dressed in luxurious silk robes and carrying twin swords, immediately drew every eye.
The noisy tavern instantly fell silent.
All eyes turned toward the two of them.
Mujin instinctively rested a hand on his sword.
These hoodlums posed no threat, but unnecessary trouble was best avoided.
Namgung Cheon ignored every stare and calmly walked to the table in the farthest corner before taking a seat.
The waiter approached with a sly grin.
“What would you like to order?”
“Baekhwaju and Chilseongye.”
Baekhwaju.
A liquor brewed from countless flower petals.
Chilseongye.
A steamed chicken dish prepared with seven rare ingredients.
The waiter looked dumbfounded.
“We don’t serve anything that fancy in a place like this. You’d better try somewhere else.”
As he turned away as though chasing them out, Namgung Cheon casually took something from his sleeve and tossed it onto the table.
Clink.
Five ordinary copper coins scattered across the tabletop.
The waiter’s footsteps stopped.
Namgung Cheon slid two of the coins away from the other three with his fingertip.
And finally…
Of the separated pair, he flipped one to show its front and the other to show its back.
The instant he did…
The waiter slowly turned around.
The sly smile had completely vanished.
Baekhwaju and Chilseongye.
Those were code words used to establish contact with the Beggars’ Intelligence Network.
But even more important were the number of coins and how they were arranged.
And the arrangement Namgung Cheon had just displayed…
Red Rank.
The highest intelligence request within the organization’s White-Yellow-Red classification.
Red Rank was reserved only for information capable of shaking an entire city.
Only the branch chief himself could respond to such a request.
Cold sweat trickled down the waiter’s forehead.
He was no waiter.
He was Pyo Ryang, the Hefei Branch Chief of the Beggars’ Intelligence Network.
He abandoned his disguise.
Scrape.
Pulling out a chair, Pyo Ryang sat opposite Namgung Cheon.
The instant he sat down, every sound inside the inn ceased.
The drunken men quietly rose to their feet.
Without sparing Namgung Cheon a single glance, they respectfully bowed toward Pyo Ryang before silently leaving.
In the blink of an eye, the inn was empty.
Only then did Pyo Ryang reveal his true identity.
“I am Pyo Ryang, Branch Chief of the Anhui Division of the Beggars’ Intelligence Network.”
After introducing himself, he looked at Namgung Cheon for a moment before continuing.
“May I ask why the Third Young Master has sought out our organization?”
Namgung Cheon frowned slightly.
Asking the reason behind a request violated the most basic principle of the intelligence trade.
Yet Pyo Ryang had openly broken that rule.
“So if someone orders wine, your organization asks why they ordered it?”
An unexpected counterquestion.
Pyo Ryang’s eyes wavered.
He’s no ordinary man.
He had effortlessly turned the probing question back on him and seized the initiative instead.
Information regarding Namgung Cheon rapidly flashed through Pyo Ryang’s mind.
The unnoticed youngest son of the Namgung Clan.
The young man who had suddenly risen to prominence after the Sword Marsh and defeated every expert in Hefei within only ten days, reaching the Transcendent Realm.
I thought he was merely an inexperienced youth who happened upon a lucky opportunity and gained powerful martial arts…
He had been wrong.
Pyo Ryang cleanly conceded a step.
“My apologies. I have been discourteous to an honored guest.”
Returning to his proper role, he asked,
“So then… what information do you seek?”
Only then did Namgung Cheon speak.
“I want everything on the Gwanghyeol Gate, Black Tiger Stronghold, Bisal Hall, and Golden Coin House.”
“Everything.”
“Even their deepest secrets.”
The moment those four names left his lips, Pyo Ryang’s expression stiffened once again.
They were currently the four most prominent unorthodox factions in Anhui.
His thoughts raced.
A young master of the Namgung Clan asking about the unorthodox sects?
A youth barely twenty years old?
Impossible.
Then another thought struck him.
The clan head’s return.
And the Third Young Master’s sudden disappearance afterward.
Besides… there’s no way someone his age should know our Red Rank code. Which means…
Everything pointed toward a single conclusion.
…This is the will of the Namgung Clan.
In other words, Namgung Cheon’s visit and his request for highly confidential intelligence represented the will of the Namgung Clan itself.
Pyo Ryang made his decision.
No matter how righteous the orthodox sects claimed to be, in Anhui no one could refuse the Namgung Clan’s request.
Nor should they.
Having finished his calculations, he spoke.
“Give me three days.”
“The price?”
“There is none.”
Pyo Ryang answered firmly.
“How could the Beggars’ Intelligence Network demand payment for a matter concerning the Namgung Clan in Anhui?”
A faint smile appeared on Namgung Cheon’s lips.
A matter concerning the Namgung Clan.
Exactly as intended.
From the beginning, he had never expected the intelligence network to hand over information willingly.
They were an organization driven entirely by profit.
To move them without money, he needed to show them something even greater.
The authority the Namgung Clan possesses in Anhui.
The clan head’s return.
His own recent actions.
The fact that all of Hefei was watching for the Namgung Clan’s next move.
And then his appearance before the intelligence network at precisely this moment.
Together, these circumstances planted one overwhelming misconception in Pyo Ryang’s mind—
That this was the will of the Namgung Clan.
And finally…
The Red Rank code.
A code that no young master barely past twenty should possibly know.
That was the final nail, transforming Pyo Ryang’s suspicion into certainty.
He became convinced that what Namgung Cheon was doing was not the reckless whim of a single young man, but part of a massive operation undertaken by the Namgung Clan itself.
Everything was unfolding exactly as Namgung Cheon had planned.
“Then I’ll return in three days.”
Leaving those words behind, Namgung Cheon immediately stood.
Mujin, who had remained behind him the entire time, silently followed like a shadow.
The creaking door closed.
The two figures disappeared completely into the darkness.
Left alone, Pyo Ryang remained seated for quite some time.
As the tension finally left his body, he realized his back was drenched in cold sweat.
Namgung Cheon…
He recalled the young man’s eyes.
Deep.
Cold.
As though they could see through everything.
They were not the eyes of someone barely past twenty.
A storm is coming to Anhui.
And at the center of that storm would be the young master who had completely overwhelmed him moments ago.
Pyo Ryang narrowed his eyes.
He knew it instinctively.
From this day forward, he could not afford to lose sight of that man’s every single step—not even for an instant.
