The Genius Youngest Disciple of the Wudang Sect

Chapter 270

Returning to the inn, I pondered the Demonic Flower Hall Master's true intentions.

But no matter how much I thought, I couldn't figure out his motives.

It's not like he's some kind of apostle of justice trying to wipe out the Ghost Iron Gate.

"Could there be some political reason?"

I imagined.

Judging from what he said, the relationship between the Demonic Flower Hall Master and the Demonic Cult Leader doesn't seem to be very good.

But the Ghost Iron Gate, for some reason, is gaining the Cult Leader's trust, and the Demonic Flower Hall Master wants to get rid of them.

It could be an intention to weaken the pro-Cult Leader faction, or it could be a personal grudge.

That grudge could be against the Cult Leader, or it could be against the Ghost Iron Gate.

"Ah, I don't know."

I said so and flopped down on the bed.

My scowling expression gradually began to calm down.

That's right. There's no need to think so complicatedly.

"Let's just think of it as punishing villains. I'm going back to my past self."

That past refers to the time of the Self-Taught Swordsman Unhwi, not Unhwi of the Wudang Sect.

At that time, I lived a much simpler life.

Punish the villains, and protect the weak.

I can't save the entire martial world, but at least I thought I would somehow save the places around me, the places my gaze reached.

I went down to the first floor and told the waiter that I wanted to rent the room I was currently using for a long time.

After talking with the innkeeper, he offered me a reasonable price, and I paid the amount in advance.

Since the amount of money I received from the Demonic Flower Hall Master was quite large, I just gave it without hesitation.

"But don't let anyone into my room. And don't bother me either."

"Of course! Thank you, Taoist!"

The innkeeper is all smiles. Business has not been good recently, and if there is a long-term guest, the number of empty rooms decreases.

Some might ask this.

Isn't it uncomfortable to use the money received from the Demonic Flower Hall Master?

But I don't care about such things at all. Money is fair. If this money had been taken from someone in front of my eyes and given to me, I would have naturally returned it to the person it was taken from, but as money circulates, it becomes impossible to know who its owner is.

It's best to use it for a good cause as much as possible.

The next places I visited were a clothier's shop and a blacksmith's.

At the clothier's shop, I bought a featureless black martial arts uniform and a mask. And at the blacksmith's, I bought a featureless Cheonggang longsword.

I wanted to buy a sword with a length and weight as similar as possible to the Red Dragon Sword, but since I couldn't buy a sword that was that light and hard at a neighborhood blacksmith's like this, I had no choice but to give up on the weight.

And I returned to the inn again.

"Wait here for a moment, Unhwi of the Wudang Sect."

I left the Taoist robe I had been wearing from Wudang, the Red Dragon Sword, and the rest of my belongings there and locked the door.

And I opened the window and slipped out.

Until this matter is over, I have decided to temporarily set aside Unhwi of the Wudang Sect here.

I felt like I had gone back to the past.

***

In a city in Chongqing. In that city lived a musician named Mo Hang.

Mo Hang was a musician who was better at playing the guqin than other instruments, and he was publicly known as the best guqin player in Chongqing.

He was packing his guqin with a dark expression.

Although the guqin was longer than his own body, he had been carrying this guqin on his back since he was very young.

At that moment, the door opened and a woman and a boy who looked to be about six or seven years old entered.

Their faces also looked very dark.

The woman, with lips that wouldn't part, said, "My lord...! Can't you not go?"

"I must go, my wife."

"The rumors are ominous. Haven't you heard the rumor that all the people who have entered the Ghost Iron Gate are dying?"

He had heard. Why wouldn't he have heard?

Mo Hang is a talented performer who originally played only in the most important seats for a large sum of money at the largest brothel in this area.

A brothel is originally a good environment for gathering all sorts of information.

Because there are few secrets that can be kept in front of beauties and alcohol.

It is said that there is an important guest at the Ghost Iron Gate right now.

The problem is that the guest is very picky.

If he were just picky, it would be one thing, but he was also ferocious.

A while ago, he had killed a cook, saying the food was not to his taste, and a few days ago, he had cut off a musician's fingers, saying the music was grating to his ears.

He has now been nominated as the replacement for the musician whose fingers were cut off, and that is the reason why Mo Hang is going to the Ghost Iron Gate, knowing he will die.

Because if he doesn't go, the Ghost Iron Gate might send martial artists to harm his family.

"The musician whose fingers were cut off last time had his fingers cut off because he made a mistake in his performance. With my skills, I will surely be able to satisfy that person, whoever he may be."

Although he said that, the musician whose fingers were cut off was a talented person with skills comparable to Mo Hang's.

The reason his fingers were cut off was probably not because of his performance, but for some other reason, such as the person's bad mood.

"My lord... sob..."

In the end, Mo Hang's wife, wiping away her tears, left the room.

Only Mo Hang and his young son were left in the room.

"Dad! Why is mom crying?"

"It's nothing. This father made your mother upset."

"Dad is bad! When you come back from playing, tell mom you're sorry."

"Yes. I will definitely apologize to mom when I come back."

He, who was about to say 'if I can come back,' changed his words and said this.

His son grinned and said, "Okay, dad. Come back quickly! Buy me a candy when you come!"

"Yes. I will."

Mo Hang hugged his young son.

Although his son struggled because he felt suffocated, he, without caring, hugged his son even tighter and then left the house.

His feeling right now was that he wanted to come back alive even if he had to give up all his hands.

Even for a musician who lives by his fingers, it is better to live than to die.

It was when he was approaching the Ghost Iron Gate.

At the part where the territory of the Ghost Iron Gate officially began, a man in black clothes was leaning against a tree and standing in the shade.

As he was about to pass by with a glance, the man spoke to Mo Hang.

"Are you on your way to the Ghost Iron Gate?"

Only then did he look back at the man.

Although his face looked slender, his shoulders were broad, and the body that was faintly visible through his martial arts uniform was unusual.

It meant he was a person who had learned martial arts.

"Did you perhaps come to meet me from the Ghost Iron Gate?"

"That's not it."

"Then?"

"I was wondering if I should escort you to the Ghost Iron Gate."

"Escort?"

He was puzzled for a moment, and then he seemed to know what this situation was.

In the Central Plains, there are many young martial artists who have learned martial arts half-heartedly.

Their martial arts are weak to make a proper living with them, and they don't want to train in martial arts either.

Such people would offer to escort someone, walk alongside them for a bit, and then get a small amount of money.

Mo Hang thought that the man in front of him was also that type of martial artist.

"Huhu... can you really protect me? I am on my way to the Ghost Iron Gate."

"Well, it's not impossible."

"How much money should I give you?"

"I don't need money. Just tell people later that the Self-Taught Swordsman Hwi-un protected you. But you must keep your promise to spread the word."

"Oho..."

Mo Hang looked at the man again.

He was a man with more passion than he thought.

He seemed to have heard somewhere that a wandering martial artist builds up their career like this.

Wandering martial artists cannot make a living unless they are hired by someone.

But to be hired smoothly, they need a reputation and a career.

So, he had heard that there are those who first build up their career and reputation without receiving money like this, and then later secure a contract with good conditions.

"Huhu... then it's even more impossible. Didn't you hear a little while ago? I said I'm on my way to the Ghost Iron Gate."

Mo Hang therefore refused.

To him, the Ghost Iron Gate was a place where martial artists more terrifying than ghosts or tigers lived.

He could not drag a young man trying to live a diligent life into such a hell.

He was a person who believed that even if the one who is to die dies, the one who is to live must live.

"I'm not in a position to say this, but if you want to live long, don't even go near the Ghost Iron Gate. Those bastards... are very scary people."

Mo Hang, who was actually about to say they were cruel and ruthless human trash, held back.

It was not to protect his dignity, but from the thought that the man in front of him might be a martial artist of the Ghost Iron Gate.

Then the man smiled broadly.

"I'm offering to protect you knowing all that, so don't worry too much."

"Hoo..."

Mo Hang, after thinking for a moment, nodded his head.

Since he was saying that much, and he didn't even need to give him money, there was no reason to refuse further.

And so, the two of them began to walk towards the Ghost Iron Gate together.

"Are the Ghost Iron Gate bastards that scary?"

"Don't even mention it. In the neighborhood where I live, there are many people with one arm missing, or one ear missing. It's what those bastards did as an example after they resisted them."

"Oh dear. They're even more vicious than I heard."

"That's not all. They say there's a guest now, and it's not easy to please that guest. They say he beats the servants to death if he's bored, and even kills the cook if the food doesn't suit his taste."

"No. Is there such a trash? Does learning martial arts give you a pass?"

Mo Hang looked at the young man who was getting angry alongside him with a strange expression.

Judging from what he said, and his sudden action of offering to escort him, he seems to be a very pure person.

Seeing him, who doesn't look that old, suddenly reminds him of his son.

After thinking for a long time, he stood still.

"No matter how much I think about it, it won't do."

"What is it?"

"No matter how much I think about it, that place is a place of death. If I didn't know, I wouldn't know, but I can't ask you to go with me knowing that it will be hard to come out safely if we go there. Please go back quickly."

Mo Hang said firmly.

Then the man grinned.

"Do you know that?"

"What do you mean?"

"I kind of like you."

"What are you talking about? I am a man with a wife and child."

"Haha! I didn't mean it in that way. Thank you for your concern. But you don't have to worry. I'm also going there knowing what kind of place it is."

"Why on earth..."

The man, instead of answering, just let out a faint smile and walked ahead.

Soon, they were able to arrive at the main gate of the Ghost Iron Gate.

Mo Hang, trying his best to act as if nothing was wrong, said to the martial artists with the appearance of demons guarding the main gate, "I am the musician Mo Hang. I came because the Gate Master called me."

"Go in. But the man behind you?"

"My escort."

"I didn't hear that you were coming with someone."

"I also didn't hear that I couldn't bring an escort."

"Hmm..."

The martial artist glanced at the man standing behind Mo Hang.

His qi also seems weak, and his body is slender.

"Escort warrior."

"Did you call me?"

"Draw your sword halfway."

The escort warrior drew his sword and then sheathed it, and the martial artist guarding the main gate nodded his head.

The sword is also not special and is a cheap one that can be bought anywhere in the marketplace.

In his judgment, the escort was only a third-rate martial artist.

'Tsk. I guess he's a famous musician, so he even has an escort warrior.'

If it's just a third-rate martial artist like that, even if he were to kill the musician, he would surely not be able to resist much.

He opened the main gate.

"Go in. I'm warning you, you can't cause a disturbance inside. If you're an escort warrior, quietly guard his side like an escort warrior."

The escort warrior readily nodded his head.

"Thank you for the advice."

The musician and the escort warrior entered the Ghost Iron Gate, and the main gate closed again with a kung—.

He had no way of knowing.

That letting the escort warrior into the Ghost Iron Gate without any suspicion would become the most regrettable thing in his life.

(End of Chapter)