Longevity - Chapter 21

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 21: Five Days and Nine Days
As Na Yangja finished speaking, the heavy shadow that had hung over his disciples’ faces began to lift.
There was a vast difference between saying there was almost no antidote available and saying a sliver of possibility remained. Yi Jung-yong stepped forward first.

“Master, where can we obtain an antidote?”
“Dongguan District in Yezhou. There’s a chance we might find an Antidote Pellet there.”

Yi Jung-yong had a sharp knowledge of northern geography. His face hardened as he calculated the distance.

“It’s over three thousand li from here. If we leave immediately and don’t delay on the road, we could reach it in seven days.”

Jin Ip-chu shook his head at once.

“We’re not traveling on foot alone. We can’t rely on finding places to change horses, and if we drag a cart for seven days straight without rest, the animals will collapse first. Even with the utmost haste, we need to count on nine days.”

Yi Jung-yong did not argue. The two horses Batu had been driving hadn’t had proper rest in four days.
Na Yangja looked between the two men.

“Nine days it is. We depart immediately.”

Jin Ip-chu hurriedly withdrew the Jade Case from inside his robe.

“Wait a moment, Master. There’s something I found inside the mausoleum last night.”

As the Jade Case split in two, two Red Apricots came into view. Jin Ip-chu briefly explained that he had found them in the coffin and that they had not decayed in over six hundred years.

“Might you examine whether this could be something that neutralizes the poison?”

Na Yangja placed one in his palm. He pressed the skin, smelled the stem, and examined the interior against the light. Though expectation gathered in his disciples’ gazes fixed on his hands, he did not draw out the examination.

“Apricot pits naturally contain cyanide. This fruit may possess other remarkable properties, but it cannot be used for detoxification.”

Jin Ip-chu’s shoulders visibly sagged.
Na Yangja returned the apricot and gestured toward the Jade Case.

“Still, don’t discard it. Something hidden so carefully and preserved for six hundred years cannot be ordinary.”
“Then did the tomb’s owner know of its effects?”
“If they had, they would have eaten it before dying. Likely they knew only that it was precious, but didn’t know what would happen after consuming it.”

Jin Ip-chu gazed at the Red Apricots for a moment longer, then closed the Jade Case. Regret lingered, but he asked nothing further and secured it firmly beneath his bandaging.
Soon everyone was in motion.
Yi Jung-yong and Jeon Jin-gung reduced their baggage and filled their water skins. Jin Ip-chu retied everything inside the wooden chest so the items gathered from the mausoleum wouldn’t shift. Batu checked the horses’ hooves and harnesses, then hitched the cart to the carriage.
Before mounting the carriage, Na Yangja glanced once at Jang-saeng’s left arm.

“Youngest, sit on the inside. Don’t use that arm on the road.”

Jang-saeng’s response came half a beat late.

“Yes, Master.”

Na Yangja had already climbed into the carriage. Jang-saeng watched his departing figure, then gripped the carriage rail with his right hand.
Youngest—not fifth disciple.
Had there been room to take on more disciples in the future, it would have been a title difficult to assign lightly. Jang-saeng tried to shake off the thought, but it clung to his mind like a thorn caught in flesh.
Batu pulled the reins. The carriage wheels pressed through wet earth and turned northward.
Until yesterday, he had known only that Na Yangja’s cough had worsened—not that it was a poison so potent his life hung in the balance. Only now, grasping the full weight of the crisis, he lashed the whip repeatedly.

“Elder brother, if we drive the horses like this, we won’t make nine days either.”

When Yi Jung-yong checked him, Batu lowered the whip, though the reins remained taut in his grip.

“I’ll check the horses’ breathing every double hour. We won’t make better time by running them until they collapse.”
“Then I’ll pull the cart while we rest.”

When Batu spoke with genuine conviction, Jin Ip-chu’s smile faltered. This was no moment for levity. Yi Jung-yong said nothing, instead leaning toward the cart’s side to examine the foam gathering at the horse’s mouth.
Hope had returned to the faces of the other disciples. They had a destination now, and Nine Days of hard riding would get them there.
Only Jang-saeng counted off the days on his fingers, hidden in his lap.
The medicine Jong A-gyeong had left behind contained five pellets. Na Yangja consumed one each day. Even if the remaining medicine retained its potency, he could endure for only Five Days.
Nine Days minus Five Days left Four Days unaccounted for.
If the horses grew weary or the road became blocked, the gap would widen further.
Jang-saeng glanced back into the cart. Na Yangja sat with his back against the wall, eyes closed. If he spoke now, Batu would drive the horses harder still, and Jin Ip-chu would lose the hope he’d only just regained.
He pressed his lips together.
Each time the cart lurched, the small pouch in his breast touched his knee. The medicine bottle was not his to carry, yet the weight of those Five remaining pellets seemed to hang there all the same.
The party pressed northward, cutting their rest periods short.
Even during stops, no one fully relaxed their watch. Batu inspected the yoke and wheels; Yi Jung-yong rationed water and provisions.
Jeon Jin-gung surveyed the surrounding area, while Jin Ip-chu counted every cough from Na Yangja inside the cart. Jang-saeng, his injured arm useless for labor, held an empty bucket while watering the horses, doing what little he could.
As the sun descended, sweat darkened the horses’ withers. Jang-saeng understood then that Nine Days was not merely a span of time—it was a distance the two horses and the cart wheels had to endure, one day at a time.
Unlike Jeju with its rolling hills, Yezhou stretched out in flat, open plains. Though the road lay visible for great distances, there were few forests or gorges where one might hide.
Wherever the highway split, the paths merged again at city walls and gates.
To detour around a city meant cutting across fields and ditches, adding leagues to the journey. With Nine Days already a narrow margin, such diversions were not an option.
As evening approached, the walls of Yezhou’s fortress filled the entire horizon.
Batu loosened the reins.

“Do we enter?”

Yi Jung-yong surveyed the city walls spreading in both directions and the main road stretching onward.

“Detouring would cost us more than half a day. We’ll make better time passing through.”

The soldiers guarding the city gate barely glanced into the cart before letting them pass. The trouble began only after they’d entered the walls.
Five beggars who had been sitting along the roadside rose one by one and began trailing the cart.
At first it seemed like ordinary almseeking. Yi Jung-yong tossed them a few coins, which they snatched up quickly. But none of them stopped walking.
They beat bamboo tubes and hummed songs while their eyes never left the cart’s interior. One watched Batu’s Empty Iron Cudgel; another’s gaze swept across Jeon Jin-gung’s waist.
The hands that had gathered the coins did not disappear into their clothes.
They seemed far more interested in counting the cargo and the number of people in the cart than in the money they’d begged. Whenever Jang-saeng turned his head, their eyes shifted away a beat too late.
The beggar at the rear suddenly reached out and lifted the cart’s curtain.
The moment his gaze met Jang-saeng’s, instead of flinching, he stretched his neck to see deeper inside.

“Remove your hand.”

Batu shot out his arm and struck the man’s wrist. Yi Jung-yong’s voice turned cold as ice.
Two of the beggars spat curses and bolted into an alley. The rest, however, clung to their coins and continued following.
Yi Jung-yong lowered his voice.

“Master, these look like Gaebang people.”

Na Yangja spoke from within the curtain.

“Leave the city as quickly as you can.”

Batu urged the horses forward, but within city walls, they could not gallop. The streets teemed with porters, peddlers, and families with children.
Jang-saeng glanced back and asked Jin Ip-chu a question.

“Is Gaebang a sect of the Jianghu?”
“More accurately, think of them as a massive gang. Their numbers exceed a hundred thousand, and nearly every prefecture and district has a branch.”
“Are they chivalrous outlaws?”

Jin Ip-chu let out a bitter laugh.

“If there’s profit in it, they’ll ransack a stranger’s belongings, sell rumors, or block the road. I’ve never once seen them do anything righteous.”

Jeon Jin-gung gazed toward the alley entrance and spoke.

“The two who fled first haven’t given up begging. They’ve gone to fetch reinforcements.”

Jin Ip-chu immediately looked past Batu’s shoulder.

“At this pace, we’ll be surrounded before we reach the North Gate. We have to break through.”
“We can’t.”

Yi Jung-yong pointed to the middle of the street.

“The carriage is too large. If we run from here, we’ll strike those people.”
“If we stop and get encircled, even more people could be caught in this.”

Their gazes locked. One was watching the time; the other, the people on the road.
Na Yangja spoke quietly.

“Hurry, but don’t strike anyone. First, we confirm their intentions.”

Batu picked up the whip and cracked it through the empty air instead of against the horse’s rump. Yi Jung-yong surveyed the intersection ahead and pointed toward the eastern alley.
The carriage turned east at the crossroads, traveled dozens of paces, then turned north again. It was a side street running parallel to the main road.
Fewer pedestrians moved here, and shops lined the street sparsely. There was nowhere to hide if anyone wanted to follow them.
Yet the beggars came on.
The moment the party confirmed their intentions, the beggars realized they’d been spotted. The three who had been muttering in low voices suddenly rushed forward.
One of them threw himself in front of the horse.

“Help! Murder! The carriage struck someone!”

The horse reared, lifting its front hooves. Batu seized the reins and barely brought it under control. He seized the Empty Iron Cudgel and leaped from the carriage.

“You throw yourself down in plain sight and try to pin it on us?”

Yi Jung-yong grabbed his arm.

“Wait a moment, brother.”

He looked in turn at the man lying on the ground and the two standing behind him.

“How much do you want?”
“A hundred taels.”

The beggar lying there answered without hesitation.

“You nearly struck someone, so a hundred taels is the least I deserve.”

The beggars behind him added their voices.

“A hundred isn’t enough. Two hundred taels — that’s what you owe us.”
“We don’t let you pass without paying.”

Yi Jung-yong didn’t haggle further. They had followed even after receiving a handful of coins, and the two who fled first were already fetching others. The sum they now demanded wasn’t truly for payment — it was to buy time.
He exhaled shortly and walked to the base of a wall. He set down the bundle on his back and began untying its knots.
The eyes of all three beggars gleamed at once. The one who had been lying down leaped to his feet first and bolted toward the wall.
In that moment, Yi Jung-yong’s hand disappeared into the bundle.
Steel flashed once.
The man who had been running forward stumbled after two more strides and collapsed. Before the other two could even open their mouths, the second and third flashes of steel passed across their necks.
All three fell against the wall without uttering a sound.
No one happened to be passing along the narrow side street. A bamboo begging tube that had been clattering moments before rolled across the ground and came to rest against the wall. From within it, a few coins that Yi Jung-yong had thrown scattered across the pavement.
Yi Jung-yong wiped the blade clean on a tattered scrap of cloth and returned it to the bundle. His face bore no expression of triumph.

“Depart.”

Batu mounted his horse and cracked the whip. This time, no pedestrian blocked their way. The carriage sped along the side road toward the North Gate.
Jang-saeng glanced back. The three corpses at the base of the wall had already receded into the distance, but the two men who’d fled first were nowhere to be seen.
There was no need to guess where they might be waiting with reinforcements.
After half an hour, the North Gate came into view.
Beyond the city gate, ragged figures already choked the road. What they held in their hands was far more than beggar’s bamboo tubes. Cudgels and blades, hooks and iron chains caught the sunlight and gleamed.
Batu bared his teeth.

“Damnable dogs. They were quick on their feet.”

Yi Jung-yong counted rapidly.

“Over seventy of them.”

The carriage halted. Behind them lay the narrow streets of the city; ahead, the armed ranks of the Gaebang blocked their path.
The Gaebang men showed no intention of yielding. As the front rank spread left and right, the rear rows became visible too, and any gap through which to escape the gate vanished entirely.
Jin Ip-chu turned his head toward the curtain.

“Master.”

Na Yangja did not answer at once. A faint cough leaked from beyond the curtain.
After a moment, his voice came through.

“If flight is impossible, then do what must be done.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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