Chapter 81
They were all dressed in ragged, tattered clothes.
Even seeing this, Namgung Ho did not move the children behind him. Instead, he bowed respectfully with a fist salute.
“The Taoist of the Mount Mao Sect has been through much trouble.”
At those words, Hong-seol recalled the martial world knowledge she had learned from Namgung Uigyeol. The Mount Mao Sect was a Taoist school based on Mount Mao in Jiangsu Province.
‘They aren't famous for their martial arts, but they are said to be exceptional with incantations and talismans.’
Come to think of it, there was a man walking slowly at the very front of the group. With his yellow Taoist robes and headpiece, he was undoubtedly a Taoist priest. At that moment, Hong-seol could make out the characters written on the Taoist's palm.
‘Is that the character for "Life" (活) written there, too?’
It was the same character that was written on the foreheads of the men who were thumping along behind him.
“Namo Amitabha.”
The man who approached answered Namgung Ho's greeting with a Taoist title.
“Where are you coming from, Taoist?”
“We departed from Shaanxi and are heading to Jiangsu.”
“The road ahead must be long and arduous. Please, use this to wet your throat.”
Namgung Ho pulled a silver nyang from his robes and held it out. The Taoist bowed deeply and accepted the silver with both hands.
“The Great Hero's heart is as vast as his generosity. May I ask your name?”
Namgung Ho waved his hand dismissively.
“Just think of me as an old man of the martial world. I was simply moved by your chivalry in taking those who died in the war back to their hometowns.”
“Thank you. Namo Amitabha.”
After chanting the Taoist title once more, the man began to move his feet.
Thump, thump, thump.
Following him, the corpses that had been still for a moment began to hop in a line. Once they had moved far enough to become mere black dots, Namgung Ho spoke in a low voice.
“Those are corpses that have lost their souls—in other words, the soulless.”
At those words, a single phrase escaped Namgung Baek's lips.
“Jiangshi...!”
“Indeed, they are also called Jiangshi. The Mount Mao Sect and the Jinju Eon Family are famous for handling them. And there is one other place.”
Namgung Baek muttered under his breath.
“The Demonic Cult.”
“Correct. But not once since the Great War Between Justice and the Demonic Cult has a Jiangshi created by the Demonic Cult been sighted.”
“Th-th-that thing called a Jiangshi... it's not a g-g-ghost, is it?”
Hong-seol trembled. Namgung Ho smiled gently and patted her back.
“Since they have no souls, they are not ghosts. They are merely corpses that move.”
At that, Hong-seol's expression seemed to soften slightly.
“Still, if you ever go out into the martial world and encounter a Jiangshi, you must be careful.”
“Why?”
“While there are those like the Mount Mao Sect who use Jiangshi techniques to transport the bodies of those who died away from home, there are others who create them for different reasons.”
“Different reasons?”
“They need puppets to fight in their stead.”
“But wouldn't they be useless if they just hop around like that?”
Hong-seol said, recalling the appearance of the Jiangshi from a moment ago.
“The world does not only contain such Jiangshi. A Jiangshi made from the corpse of a Master can unleash the martial arts they knew in life. In that case, the practitioner gains a subordinate far superior to their own martial arts.”
Hong-seol briefly imagined a duel between a Jiangshi version of Namgung Ho and herself.
“Hiiing!”
Just the thought made her knees weak, and she couldn't help but whine like a child.
“Th-then... how should one fight a Jiangshi?”
“There are ways to suppress them with brute force, but the best way is to find the practitioner.”
“The practitioner?”
“Yes, the practitioner's soul is connected to the Jiangshi. If you subdue the practitioner, the Jiangshi will be unable to use its power.”
Namgung Ho patted the shoulder of the frightened Hong-seol.
“It is not common to encounter a Jiangshi, so do not worry just yet. Come! Let us go see the marketplace.”
“Here, your hand.”
Namgung Baek held out his hand as if he had been waiting. Hong-seol took it and trotted along after Namgung Ho.
* * *
It was after they had spent some time looking around the marketplace and were sitting on the second floor of an inn, slurping down noodles.
The hero who carries the blue sky on his back has spoken
“Huh?”
It was that song again. The song she had heard yesterday reached Hong-seol's ears. As Hong-seol tilted her head, Namgung Ho asked.
“What is it, Seol-ah?”
“I've been hearing the same song since yesterday, and the lyrics are bothering me a little.”
Just then, a group of children in front of the inn began to sing at the top of their lungs. This time, Namgung Ho and Namgung Baek also listened closely to the song.
The hero who carries the blue sky on his back has spoken
Oh! Where shall we go next time?
The white and black horses answer
Hiiing! Walk into the wind and clouds!
“What is so strange about that?”
Hong-seol, who had been lost in thought while holding her index finger in her mouth, said, “The hero who carries the blue sky on his back. Could that be referring to you, Grandfather?”
At that, the face of Namgung Ho—who used the character 'Ho' (豪), meaning hero, in his name—turned serious.
“Well, isn't that a bit of a stretch?”
Though he spoke as if it were nothing, his eyes seemed to feel that something was amiss as well. Hong-seol, though hesitant in case she was wrong, spoke her thoughts clearly.
“The news that the Grand Patriarch of the Namgung Clan has come out into the martial world has spread far and wide. Even if you disappeared and vanished halfway through. And this place, Wuhan...”
“It is a place that those passing through by water have no choice but to stop at.”
It was Namgung Baek who spoke. That was true. Since ancient times, Wuhan had been called the place that leads to the nine provinces.
“If someone had to find you, Grandfather, even I would be waiting here in Wuhan.”
“Besides, actually, a long time ago, Brother Heuk made up a song to tease Jeok.”
Namgung Ho was dumbfounded by the sudden talk of songs.
“It was a song about how if Namgung Jeok crosses the river, his pant legs become empty...”
Hong-seol confessed, glancing at him. Namgung Ho nearly spat out the noodle broth he was drinking. That song must have been a mockery of the time his grandson, Namgung Jeok, went to the Anhui River Crossing and had his pants pulled down.
“I didn't know about that incident, so I stayed quiet. But Jeok understood it immediately and got angry.”
“And then?”
“If someone is looking for you, Grandfather, but doesn't want others to know—!”
Hong-seol's bright eyes sparkled.
“I thought that perhaps making it into a song and singing it might be a method.”
Namgung Ho was stunned by her sharp reasoning.
‘When did our Hong-seol grow up like this...?’
Her way of speaking was no less than that of a seasoned adult. No, it was even better. With Namgung Ho admiring her, Hong-seol and Baek were lost in their next dilemma.
“Then what do the white and black horses refer to, Brother?”
“Hmm...”
“The last line is even stranger. Walk into the wind and clouds?”
“Hmm.”
For some reason, Namgung Ho seemed ready to step in. The gazes of Hong-seol and Baek gathered on him.
“I think I know what that is.”
* * *
Perhaps it was a place he had visited once before, for Namgung Ho's steps were unwavering. The place he led the two children to was an ordinary inn tucked away in a corner of the city. A sign reading Wind and Cloud Inn caught their eyes.
“Wait here for a moment.”
Stopping the children from entering, Namgung Ho spread his Energy Sense. It was because there was a possibility that someone dangerous might be inside.
“There is no sinister energy.”
After properly concealing his own energy, Namgung Ho took Hong-seol's hand and stepped into the inn.
“Welcome!”
The waiter, who had been sitting down perhaps because there were no customers, brightened up.
“Oh my, the grandson and granddaughter are so lovely that the Great Hero must be full even without eating! Please, come this way!”
Hong-seol, led by the waiter to a window seat, looked around carefully. In the spacious inn, the only customers were a group of street ruffians laughing and drinking since midday, and a couple of carriage drivers who seemed to have stopped by to fill their bellies while working.
‘Could the horses those drivers brought be white and black?’
Hong-seol, who had craned her neck to look outside, was disappointed by the ordinary brown horses and turned her head back.
‘What on earth do the white and black horses mean?’
She was dying to know the answer. And why those who had spread this song were looking for Namgung Ho so secretly.
At that moment, Namgung Baek said in a low voice.
“I know.”
“Did you find the answer, Brother?”
“What is it?”
Even Namgung Ho asked with a face full of curiosity.
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