Sichuan's Mad Dragon (Novel) - Chapter 101 - Who Is That Clown

Chapter 101 – Who Is That Clown

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Translated by Heavenly Cat
Edited by Celestial Knight

Read it only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net

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This happened several months ago, when Ju-seong was still staying at Emei Mountain.

After Master Jeong-hwa’s cremation had concluded.

An unexpected visitor came to Ju-seong, who had been preparing to leave.

“Young Hero, may I come in? There is someone who wishes to see you.”

Ok-wol sought him out at his lodging, and the person she brought was none other than Hye-jeong, the new master of Emei.

In truth, Ju-seong was not someone Hye-jeong could easily look upon favorably.

Ju-seong was the first to discover the true nature of the pills Master Jeong-hwa had consumed, and it was none other than Ju-seong’s senior brother who had informed Master Jeong-hwa and caused this catastrophe.

Yet Hye-jeong quietly bowed her head without showing a trace of resentment toward Ju-seong.

“…Thanks to Young Hero and Physician Seo-baek, the Emei Sect is able to cast off its delusions and move forward. I, too, shall dedicate my life to righting our sect’s spirit, with a heart of atonement toward my master.”

Hye-jeong’s eyes were still sunken and her hair was limp. Guilt haunted her like a ghost, like a nightmare, tormenting her day after day.

Even so, she appeared to have pulled herself together quickly.

Though guilt weighed upon her entire being, the enormous burden her master had left behind pressed down upon her as well.

If she failed to compose herself here and crumbled, she would be sinning against her master twice over.

Hye-jeong drew a splendid ceremonial blade from her robes and offered it to Ju-seong.

* * *

They wore immaculate black Taoist robes and silver coronets placed atop hair twisted up without a single strand out of place. Their scabbards were made of ox horn or ivory, and their hilts were carefully wrapped in ray skin for an air of refinement.

Apart from a couple who were small in stature, most were strapping men… broad-shouldered and with the blessed countenances of prosperous figures. Though every member of the party was dressed thus, one could hardly call their attire that of Taoists cultivating the Way.

However, if those garments belonged to the Wudang Sect, the story was different.

For the Wudang Sect, this level of dress was actually considered modest.

Yet the conversation passing between them was rather worldly.

“Senior Brother Song-un… Is this right? We’re just going straight in to negotiate? Our opponent is the one they call the Little Divine Mathematician of the Zhuge Family!”

Among the Taoists, the young man called Song-un was the only one whose face betrayed none of a Taoist’s solemnity.

A strand or two of hair even poked out.

Looking closely, his coronet was also on backward… though since Wudang’s coronets were so plain that front and back looked alike, it was hard to tell.

Annoyance was written all over Song-un’s face.

“I know. What am I supposed to do about it? Just as a maiden and a bachelor must meet eyes before romance can bloom, Zhuge and Wudang need to come to an agreement if we want no blood spilled… Ahh, I really don’t want to do this.”

The first voice flared up in indignation.

“Is Senior Brother smarter than the Little Divine Mathematician? You’re going to get tangled up in that wicked tongue of his nine times out of ten.”

“Then we’ll take a loss or something.”

“This is a mission given by the Elders!”

“Those Elders are your masters. ‘My’ master told me not to get distracted by trivial matters like this. Sending me here the moment he leaves for his jianghu tour… Primordial Lord of Heaven, have mercy.”

“Come now, watch your words, Senior Brother. ‘Your masters’? What’s that supposed to mean?”

When another voice gently scolded him, the man called Song-un raised both arms in a fawning gesture.

“Yep, Senior Brothers. This unworthy Senior Brother has dared to offend our precious junior brothers. Please confine me to the training cave.”

“Certainly. And while we’re at it, we shall give you twenty strokes on the buttocks, Senior Brother.”

“Shh, here he comes. The smart one’s here.”

-Clack.

The door of the thatched cottage opened, and a frail-looking man in white scholarly robes emerged.

“Esteemed Taoist friends of Wudang have graced us with their presence, yet this foolish Zhuge failed to think ahead and welcome you properly.”

A white folding fan made of crane feathers swayed lazily, covering and revealing the lower half of the man’s face.

A picture-perfect scholar, to be sure.

But one must not be deceived by appearances.

This was Zhuge Xian… eldest son and heir designate… who had been questioned about his qualifications from a young age due to his frail health.

Yet such doubts had vanished before he reached the age of fifteen.

He was so relentlessly determined that he gripped practice swords until his palms split. Rumor had it that all the children’s practice swords in the Zhuge inner court had their hilts stained red.

Zhuge Xian showed none of that ruthless temperament, merely offering a gentle eye-smile as he slightly inclined his head.

Song-un, by contrast, had a somewhat tan complexion and appeared spirited… the very image of a gallant hero… creating a stark contrast with Zhuge Xian.

Song-un roughly raised a cupped-fist salute and spoke.

“Song-un of Wudang. Hmm, do I need to introduce myself? Young Master Xian, it’s been a while. We met once at Grand Patriarch’s sixtieth birthday, did we not?”

Zhuge Xian nodded, lowering his white fan as if accustomed to Song-un’s casual and flippant attitude.

“Taoist Song-un, it has been too long. With days so short that you can barely review the teachings of Elder Tao-qi on Wudang Mountain, what brought you to set your weighty feet upon the mundane world?”

Song-un’s master was Immortal Neung-bo, titled Tao-qi… a Grand Elder of the Wudang Sect and one of the Ten Supreme Masters of the World.

Until now, Song-un had spent nearly all of his life until his thirties under Immortal Neung-bo, solely honing his martial arts without any notable jianghu excursions.

Zhuge Xian was deliberately prodding this point to subtly put Song-un down.

But Song-un seemed uninterested in verbal sparring.

“The Taoist friend is trying to make a fool of me. Let’s talk about what’s important. You asked why I came down? The Elders sent me. To talk things over with you lot. They say we also have a right to claim Li Bai’s legacy.”

Zhuge Xian smirked and placed a hand on his hip.

“I was about to offer the Taoist gentlemen a cup of tea, but it seems Taoist Song-un here is the most impatient man under heaven. Very well, let’s hash out our justifications right here and now.”

At Zhuge Xian’s words, Song-un gestured for him to speak first.

Song-un’s junior brothers suddenly found themselves unable to sit down after their long journey.

And the Zhuge vassals found themselves unable to host the Wudang Taoists with so much as a cup of tea.

The expressions on both sides soured, but the leaders of each group… Song-un and Zhuge Xian… seemed entirely unconcerned.

Zhuge Xian cleared his throat and began.

“First, this area near Lake Dongting, where Li Bai married, has been cared for by the Zhuge Family since ancient times. The Xu House that became his in-laws was practically a branch family of the Zhuge at the time. In other words, we are connected by blood.”

Song-un tilted his head and countered.

“And yet Li Bai was not a Zhuge, was he?”

“That’s what I’m saying… ”

“Ah, I don’t understand complicated things like that. The Recluse of the Blue Lotus, Li Bai, was undoubtedly a ‘Li.’ Not a ‘Zhuge.'”

“What I’m saying is, Li Bai isn’t a Zhuge… ”

“He was a Li from Longxi, I believe. Very different from Zhuge. Yes, indeed.”

Zhuge Xian closed his eyes for a moment, then covered his mouth with the white fan and sent a voice transmission to Murong Yeon beside him.

Originally, voice transmission was a technique where one infused qi into the voice emanating from one’s mouth and made it audible only at the desired location.

Inevitably, one’s lips moved when sending a transmission. Before a martial artist with keen eyes, one risked having one’s lip movements read, so caution was necessary.

[Yeon, why can’t I communicate with this man? Is he always like this? He never shows his face in jianghu, so… I never knew his personality was like this.]

[I wouldn’t know either, but… Elder Tao-qi himself is famous for being eccentric. Like master, like disciple, I suppose.]

[Heavens… This is beyond stubborn.]

[For now, why not listen to their justification and plan to refute it accordingly.]

[Right, let’s hear what that fellow has to say. What kind of impressive nonsense can he spout?]

Zhuge Xian cleared his throat once more and asked.

“Taoist Song-un, who speaks so confidently… on what grounds do you believe Wudang has the right to claim Li Bai’s legacy? If you continue with this obstinate logic, we will not stand by idly.”

Go ahead and say it.

Zhuge Xian watched Song-un with that expression.

But Song-un merely shrugged his shoulders and stepped aside.

What was revealed was a young Taoist with dark circles under his eyes and a sensitive-looking face.

“I have no talent for this sort of thing, so I’ll leave it to the most learned of the Song-generation first-tier disciples. If you please…”

Song-un’s junior brother seemed to be restraining a sigh to preserve Wudang’s dignity… there was exactly a sigh’s worth of pause before he introduced himself.

“…Song-jin of the Wudang Sect.”

He was cradling what appeared to be a freshly bound book.

Zhuge Xian tilted his head and muttered to himself.

‘I hate to judge by appearances, but… that’s my type.’

Watching Song-jin carefully peel apart pages stuck together by ink, handling them as gently as one would a baby, Zhuge Xian even felt a touch of kinship.

“Ahem, yes. Well. To explain from the main thread, regarding the Taoist known as Dongyan-zi of Mount Min, said to be Li Bai’s master, the results of our investigation are…”

Song-jin seemed to take genuine pleasure in reading lines aloud in a clear voice.

Unfortunately, this young Taoist… who would have lived more happily as an official… had his recital interrupted from the very start.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake! Do you not know who I am! You’re being this obstinate even after seeing this item! I guarantee you… in just one ke, you’ll be apologizing to me. I’ve memorized your face.”

Zhuge Xian blankly stared at the man in a green silk robe being blocked by warriors at the base of the hill.

His voice was splendid and his pronunciation was crisp… a sound that could be heard anywhere on the hill and that hammered itself into the listener’s ears.

“Hey, hey! Careful where you grab! I know martial arts. If you keep manhandling me like this, I might accidentally hurt you…”

Song-jin’s recitation had of course been cut short, and everyone from both sides was watching this strange man in green.

Zhuge Xian murmured in a small voice without realizing it.

“…Who is that clown?”

* * *

Ju-seong was currently in a state of severe bewilderment.

‘Why don’t they recognize the Emei Sect’s gratitude token?’

In truth, gratitude tokens issued by the Seven Great Sects were not items one could easily see.

While the general appearance of gratitude tokens was known through hearsay, it was hard to recognize one immediately without considerable discernment.

The sunlight reflected off the ceremonial blade held high, stinging Ju-seong’s eyes.

Looking at the sparkling jewels studding it, he seemed to hear the voice of the gaunt bhikkhuni once more.

[Emei Mountain will remain as lofty as before. And part of that is thanks to Young Hero. We suffered greatly from this affair… But just as there is no life lived without pain, so too will our sect endure.]

Hye-jeong had gazed silently at Ju-seong before letting out a deep sigh.

[…That child now goes by the name Heuk-wol, I hear.]

Ju-seong had kept his mouth shut.

She must have realized that the very person who orchestrated all of this was none other than Heuk-wol.

Though she might now be playing at being an evil sect member in Guizhou, she was originally Hye-jeong’s disciple.

From Hye-jeong’s perspective, it must feel as if her daughter had harmed her parents.

Hadn’t Hye-jeong herself smuggled the girl out when her dantian was destroyed and she was about to become crippled?

For that, Hye-jeong had been confined to the Repentance Cave for half a year.

[Sometimes, I wonder if the word for what we call ‘fate’ is anything but pain.]

The deep regret that had rippled in the wrinkled corners of the bhikkhuni’s eyes.

Though she had renounced the world, how could one in a human body shed all delusions and the seven emotions?

‘No, now’s not the time to be sentimental. These bastards don’t even recognize who I am.’

Ju-seong quickly shook off his reverie.

He raised the ceremonial blade in his left hand high and shouted.

“You ignorant fools! This is none other than the Emei Sect’s gratitude token!”