Sichuan's Mad Dragon (Novel) - Chapter 51 - Take Care of Yourself
Chapter 51 – Take Care of Yourself
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Translated by Heavenly Cat
Read it only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net
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Deung-pyeong did not collect money from the old peddler, but he intended to collect a toll from the young man beside him.
“Young friend, do you have any money? I won’t take much, just a quarter of what’s in your purse.”
They had received a considerable fortune from Ju-seong, but to cultivate some slash-and-burn farmland and live in the mountains, they needed time to establish a foundation.
During that time, they were unavoidably collecting tolls to preserve the wealth they had received as much as possible.
However, from April’s perspective, Deung-pyeong’s demeanor felt like a lie.
He too was an assassin who had crossed the line of death many times.
He could tell at a glance whether the person before him was someone who had killed people or not.
And this man called Deung-pyeong, along with his subordinates, all bore a distinct killing intent. Those who made killing their profession were different in their gaze and bearing from the very start.
April silently glared at Deung-pyeong and slowly spoke.
“…Your subordinates’ clothing is peculiar.”
“Clothing?”
Deung-pyeong looked behind him with a bewildered expression. Some wore clothes that were too big or small, and others had a bizarre mismatch between their upper and lower garments.
In short, they looked like they had stolen clothes from others.
If they had stripped the clothes from others, nine times out of ten it meant they had killed the original owners. All the garments looked relatively clean, which suggested they had committed murders quite recently.
“It’s obvious you stole those clothes from others. Yet why pretend to be gentlemen? You’re planning to kill us anyway. Truly a foul hobby.”
At his words, a subordinate behind him spoke up.
“My, what an attitude. What gives him the nerve to be so cocky?”
April twisted his lips and habitually reached for his waist.
But his sword had been taken by that monster-like old man in Sichuan Province long ago.
“Looking for your sword? Looks like you left your sword behind, are you an idiot? You look young, have you gone senile already?”
At the subordinate’s repeated mockery, Deung-pyeong quietly rebuked him.
“Jong-yeong, shut up. How many times have I told you to show some courtesy.”
“Yes, Captain.”
The subordinate shrank back, and Deung-pyeong explained.
“Recently, a certain noble person bestowed great wealth upon us. The reason our clothes are in such a state is because we bought the cheapest fabric from a textile shop at wholesale prices with that wealth and made them. They shrink when washed and stretch when worn. We’re not in a position to use fine fabric, you see.”
The old man laughed heartily and said.
“My, you got swindled at the textile shop! Next time, wear proper clothes when making a deal!”
“We went to the textile shop because we didn’t have decent clothes, but to avoid being cheated there, we needed good clothes… Life is hard.”
“Isn’t that just how it is. You’re from the military, aren’t you?”
“Oh, how did you know?”
The old man smiled and replied evasively.
“When you get old, you see certain things.”
In truth, at the old man’s level, he could perceive the energy in the lower abdomen of the martial artists before him as clearly as if seeing it with his eyes.
It was obvious that they had all trained in the compatibility-focused but underwhelming mental cultivation methods characteristic of the military.
The killing intent layered upon them must have been picked up on battlefields too.
Deung-pyeong turned his head toward April and asked.
“Will you now set aside your suspicions? We have no intention of killing you. Just pay the money and we’ll escort you to the foot of the mountain. Mount Jeomchang is no ordinary mountain. Wild beasts might appear.”
“…”
April silently took out his purse and threw it to Deung-pyeong. Then he stared fixedly at the subordinate who had mocked him earlier.
The subordinate flinched momentarily at his fierce gaze, then scrunched his brow and shouted.
“What are you staring at? Typical of those with nothing, always so proud. Hey, mister. Be grateful we’re letting you live instead of mouthing off, huh? Want to go one-on-one? Without weapons?”
Deung-pyeong let out a small sigh, then quietly called his subordinate’s name.
“Jong-yeong.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Stop it.”
“But that bastard keeps being cocky.”
April watched this display, his eyelids trembling slightly. The old man, Immortal Hyeon-su, observed this with interest.
‘He’s restraining himself quite well. Is he a former assassin? His patience is quite outstanding.’
Only after receiving his now-lighter purse could April proceed.
A few bandits escorted April and the old man to the foot of Mount Jeomchang.
April ground his molars until they nearly shattered, muttering to himself.
‘His name was Jong-yeong, was it. Let’s meet again later, later…’
Meanwhile, the old man’s voice reached him.
“You seem quite angry, young man. Are you alright? Hehe, living as the weak is like that. What use is a commoner harboring resentment against a martial artist? Calm yourself.”
“…Have you lived like that your whole life, Elder? Have you never been angry?”
Having lost his power now, hearing insults from a lowly bandit made April feel like flames were erupting from within.
If so, how had this old man, who had lived as the weak his whole life, endured to reach that age?
Immortal Hyeon-su briefly recalled the time before he entered the Kunlun Sect.
When he was truly a peddler.
“Why wouldn’t I have been? But whenever I felt that way, I thought of my old mother at home.”
“Your mother.”
April smacked his lips bitterly.
It was a story he found hard to empathize with.
* * *
Weiji Baek, the Death-Playing Demonic Physician.
In his days wandering the martial world, he had built considerable notoriety, but that did not mean he had made enemies of everyone he met.
On the contrary, there were quite a few who owed him favors. And among them were some who had become close friends.
He was spreading out paper and writing for the first time in a long while.
When he was actively researching medicine and healing arts, ink and inkstone were always running low.
But now, leisurely enjoying his retirement, he rarely picked up a brush. Except when writing letters like this.
His handwriting was soft and flowing, not matching his appearance.
“You mad gambling bastard, how have you been… Ah, I shouldn’t write that.”
Weiji Baek smacked his lips and crumpled the paper he was writing on and pushed it aside.
After calming his turbulent mind for a moment, he exhaled deeply and slowly moved his brush.
-To Sighing Branch.
Weiji Baek was writing a letter to a man called Sighing Branch. Of course, Sighing Branch couldn’t be his real name, but rather a nickname or courtesy name used between close friends.
Since they called each other by nicknames, they had to be close acquaintances. Though the meaning of that nickname, ‘Sighing Branch,’ was somewhat peculiar.
-How have you been?
I know well that you have the habit of drifting here and there like duckweed, but I’ve heard you periodically stop by the Blue Sky Tower.
So I’m sending this letter through the Tower Master. That friend wouldn’t open someone else’s letter, but even if he did, it wouldn’t matter.
The reason I’m writing this embarrassingly isn’t to ask about your well-being, of course. Real men don’t ask such things of each other.
Recently, I discovered traces of ‘them’ at the Blood Sword Sect, a demonic faction in Fujian Province. The Blood Sword Sect’s Young Master was working as their contractor… the very ones we’ve been searching for so long, yet couldn’t even catch the tail of.
Sighing Branch.
They were collecting people’s refined blood essence. They are truly demons who eat people.
I learned this fact a few years ago.
I’m sending this letter only after much hesitation. I was worried it might dredge up your bad memories. And I was afraid you would throw yourself into searching for them without caring for your own body.
I desperately want to chase after them immediately, but I’m currently looking after the daughter of my late master who taught me martial arts.
Since I know you’re well-informed about martial world news, I ask you to please look into them. But I hope you won’t dig too deep.
Once I finish treating my master’s daughter, I’ll join you. My disciple will be with me then.
He’s a truly troublesome fellow, but I think you’ll like him when you meet him. You’ve always gotten along with people who are somewhat broken and twisted in some way.
Ah, you may already know this, but our friend Gi Sam-bok has established a manor with his descendants. A thief settling down, who would have thought he’d live this long.
I’ll end here. Please.
“…Take care of yourself.”
The Divine Physician read the closing words aloud as he finished the letter. Then he let out a deep sigh.
He carefully sealed the letter and rose from his seat.
“There was a delivery guild that passes through the village below around this time every year… I can’t remember the name. Anyway, I should send it through them.”
Just as the Divine Physician was about to leave the courtyard, Wol-hyang opened her door and asked.
“Divine Physician, are you going out?”
“Yes. I have a letter to send. Don’t worry and stay here. It won’t take long.”
“Yes, please travel safely.”
Wol-hyang quietly watched the old man’s retreating figure. An old man who felt like the grandfather she never had.
For some reason, his broad back seemed lonelier than usual today.
* * *
Beneath the scorching sunlight, on a desolate land covered in sand on all sides, a frighteningly clear lake that seemed to contain the sky was pooled.
Around it, several tents were loosely scattered, and between them, dozens of corpses lay strewn about.
An old man with a refined appearance walked in from the distance and grimaced at the sight of the bodies scattered everywhere.
It was the mysterious old man who had given the martial arts manual to the man called the Flower-Snapping Laughing Killer.
“My, my friend. Why are you killing innocent people again? What do you gain from killing them?”
His expression showed neither sympathy nor anger for the innocent dead.
He was merely chiding his colleague who had pointlessly ruined the desert scenery.
At his words, another man emerged, pushing aside a tent.
“You’ve come.”
He had a considerably younger-looking face to be speaking casually with the old man, appearing to be at most in his mid-forties. He was tall, with a fine build, and handsome features that would not be lacking even compared to Song Yu, the famous beauty of the Spring and Autumn period.
His long beard shone with luster, and his deep-set, bloodshot eyes held a dangerous charm.
He stared straight at the old man and spoke.
“While I was waiting for you, these people set up camp right next to my tent. They should have at least asked permission from me, who was here first, but they did as they pleased. How can that be called propriety? Such rude people.”
The old man smacked his lips at the middle-aged man’s words as if finding it regrettable.
“So you killed all these people? My goodness… Some of them seem to be martial artists, what a waste…”
The middle-aged man looked the old man up and down with disgust.
“A gentleman should stand on his own strength, yet you always think first of sucking others’ internal energy? The reason you, with all your overflowing talent, are still beneath me is precisely that. Your lineage is fundamentally flawed from the root.”
Despite hearing words that insulted his entire sect, the old man merely shrugged and retorted.
“A gentleman, you say. Since when did one who wastes human lives so uselessly come to be called a gentleman? I wouldn’t know.”
“Let’s stop this meaningless bickering… I called you because I have a task for you.”
The middle-aged man was treating the old man like a subordinate. Yet they clearly spoke casually to each other, indicating they were of equal standing.
It was similar to how children playing house might have a hierarchy among themselves.
The old man stroked his beard and tilted his head.
“What is it… If you command, I must obey. Though how long it takes will be up to me.”
“Long ago, do you remember that physician who tried to track our movements and stirred up the martial world? Eventually he vanished like a dog chasing chickens… We lost track of his whereabouts too and wondered where he’d gone.”
The old man nodded in agreement.
“That’s right. Ultimately, you swallowed the Ten Thousand Ears Gang to root out such people.”
“It wasn’t me but Goong-gi who did it, but well, same difference.”
The old man rarely furrowed his brow.
“Please don’t mention that perverted, cannibal schemer. Just hearing his name makes my ears feel dirty.”
The middle-aged man twisted his lips upward.
It amused him to see the two weakest of the four constantly at odds with each other.
“Anyway, I’ve now found the whereabouts of that physician. I’d like you to hunt him down and kill him.”
“As I recall, that fellow was also a martial artist who had reached a certain level, so it would be difficult to have your subordinates or disciples handle him. Fine. I’ll take it on. The other one is busy with his secluded training, pretending to be some Taoist these days.”
“How long will it take?”
“Well… It will take a while. You know, don’t you? I’ve been looking for a disciple candidate. I’ve planted the seed, so he should come looking for me before long. I expect I’ll only set out after teaching him and putting him on solid footing.”
The middle-aged man nodded.
“Fine. It’s not an urgent matter.”
Having finished speaking, he stared fixedly at the old man. It was an order to leave.
Treated like a dog that had been called only to be dismissed, the old man had to leave the lakeside immediately.
Even in such a wretched situation, the old man smiled slightly and nodded his head before turning away.
The middle-aged man called out to the old man’s back.
“Please take care of yourself, my friend.”
“Thank you, thank you.”
The old man replied in an unchanged tone.