Moorim Pochang - Chapter 80

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

Chapter 80. Fish Noodles.

Baek Moon-do and Cho Yak stepped forward before the skilled personnel.
“The woman standing here is Cho Yak of the Hundred Heroes. She will lead the Jamryong-hoe and Seongma-dan going forward—treat her as you would treat me and the Sect Master.”
Even without Baek Moon-do’s words, the skilled personnel had already heard her story.
“We greet you, Cho Yak..!”
“We look forward to serving you going forward..!”
The skilled personnel bowed deeply in unison.
Cho Yak surveyed the personnel of the Jamryong-hoe and Seongma-dan.
“Then shall we examine your martial arts first? We’ll start with the Jamryong-hoe.”
As she stepped forward with her Michiemddo, Baek Won-yeong was the first to bow respectfully.
“I am Baek Won-yeong.”
Cho Yak shook her head.
“You’re fine—next person, come forward.”
Baek Won-yeong had no choice but to step back, bewildered.
Yeon Ja-seol came forward next.
“I am Yeon Ja-seol.”
“You’re fine too.”
Only then did the skilled personnel grasp her intent.
‘She’s dividing the strong from the weak first.’

*

Slurp.
The moment Kang Jo put the fish noodles in his mouth, he grimaced.
“Why is this so fishy?”
“Didn’t I tell you? Brother. You’ve wasted silver for nothing. This is why I can’t eat at other inns. You’ve completely ruined my palate.”
Kang Jo chewed a strand of noodle finely while listening to Yang Jung grumble.
The fishy taste came through even in the noodles themselves.
‘Fish flesh mixed into the dough.’
When he tasted the broth, the fishy stench rose from it.
‘Fish bones for the stock, and fried fish meat on top.’
Even the fried fish was dry and tough.
“Where are the dumplings?”
“There was nowhere in the village that sells fish dumplings, brother.”
It would have been nice, but he had no desire to venture out to a distant village just to taste fish dumplings.
“If there are no other guests, let’s make do with this for tonight’s meal.”
Yang Jung’s expression changed at once.
“No, brother. Is there such a thing in this world? I simply cannot eat fish noodles for supper.”
“Don’t be ungrateful. There are plenty of people who can’t eat even this.”
“Then let me go catch fish from the stream instead—couldn’t you make a fish soup?”
Kang Jo pretended not to hear his pleading.
“Let me rest a while.”
“But since you don’t seem to have much energy, wouldn’t a cup of wine do you good, brother?”
Yang Jung’s eyes already sparkled as he stared down at the kitchen floor.
This time Kang Jo nodded without hesitation.
“Just one cup each.”
If Yang Jung hadn’t moved about so diligently, the exhaustion would have been nearly unbearable.
Of course it had been partly because there were so many women, but he couldn’t deny that the help had been invaluable.
Heh heh.
“Thank you, brother.”
He hurried to the corner of the kitchen, swept away the dirt, and opened the liquor jar.
“How long has it been, my tonic?”
*

Over nearly four days, Cho Yak divided the skilled personnel into two categories.
One group numbered barely a dozen, while the other numbered nearly forty.
She planted the Michiemddo in the ground and surveyed the forty-odd skilled personnel arrayed before her.
“You have no right to call yourselves Hundred Heroes.”
For those accustomed to living with pride, the words were brutally, shockingly cruel.
One of the Seongma-dan’s masters flushed crimson, his voice rising.
“Why would you speak such words, Cho? We fought a bloody battle against the masters of Hyeol-gyo mere weeks ago.”
But Cho Yak remained unmoved.
“When you’re weak, your comrades and friends die. Even knowing that, can you truly claim you’re worthy?”
The forty-odd skilled personnel had no answer.
A long sigh escaped Baek Moon-do’s lips as he watched from a distance.
‘She still hasn’t let go of Han-seo.’
It seemed she held herself responsible for the death of the person she loved—that her own weakness had been the cause.
“Truly… a lamentable burden,” Shin Pung-gae muttered beside him, his eyes growing dim.
To carry such weight your whole life—it made Han-seo’s early death seem almost merciful by comparison.
“You may not know, Alliance Leader, but the first thing Dae-hyung ever said to all one hundred was that very phrase. It didn’t strike me deeply then, but as the bloody battles continued, I felt its truth in my bones.”
“So such words were spoken.”
Cho Yak turned her gaze across the assembled masters and continued.
“I’m giving you one month. If you can’t satisfy me by then, you’ll have to leave the Murim Alliance.”
How could their martial arts possibly reach her standard in mere weeks?
The frustration blazed in their eyes, though they dared not speak it aloud.
“Cling to the Sect Master, cling to the Vice Sect Master, cling to the Alliance’s elders—whatever it takes, grow stronger on your own.”
Cho Yak finished speaking, turned on her heel, and left the Training Ground.
The moment she was gone, the forty-odd masters turned toward the dozen or so others.
“We beg your guidance.”
“We throw ourselves upon your mercy.”
Baek Won-yeong accepted their pleas without hesitation.
“Understood. I swear you won’t leave the Murim Alliance.”
Dok-go Yeop and the others spared no effort either.
“We’re wasting time. Let’s begin now.”
From the distance, Shin Pung-gae suddenly appeared in the Training Ground.
“This old man will help as well. Show me what you’re made of.”
The masters bowed in unison toward him.
“Thank you, Alliance Leader.”

*

Cho Yak left the Murim Alliance and made her way toward the Guest Inn.

‘Let me hope for a life without regret.’
As the Guest Inn drew near, she caught sight of a handsome young man doing laundry by the stream.
‘That was Yang Jung, wasn’t it?’
The man she had loved was not as handsome as this youth.
Yet he was always dependable, his heart generous, taking her complaints and moods with grace.
It had seemed natural then, but now that he was gone, she could only resent herself for not doing more.
“Ugh… this is exhausting. Why is there so much laundry? I wish we’d hired a servant or two. My brother is impossible sometimes.”
At the sound of his muttering, she found herself smiling faintly without realizing it.
She could feel Yang Jung’s heart in those complaints.
He loved his brother dearly—that’s why he could grumble so freely.
Yang Jung’s eyes met hers as he worked.
Hm.
“I was helping my brother out,” he answered, though she’d asked nothing.
She’d made no inquiry, yet an answer came nonetheless.
“Your bond looks quite strong.”
When Cho Yak spoke warmly of the laundry man, Yang Jung’s spirits lifted.
“It’s probably the best in all the land.”
“I envy it.”
Cho Yak crossed the Stone Bridge.
“Welcome back.”
Kang Jo came out to greet her, and she finally spoke.

“Could you have it ready for this evening?”
“Fish noodles—yes, we can prepare that for you.”
“Then I’ll return at dinner time.”
With those words, Cho Yak turned her body back toward the direction of the Murim Alliance and departed.
‘That woman must be the one the Alliance Leader and Sect Master mentioned—Cho Yak.’
She carried an unusual air about her.
Her eyes were clear, yet they seemed to gaze upon some other place, not this world.
It gave him a nagging sense of unease.
The moment she was gone, Kang Jo turned to Yang Jung.
“Catch some fish.”
“Really? Truly—I just catch fish and do nothing else? That’s all?”
Yang Jung broke into a delighted grin, pleased beyond measure.
“That’s right. Bring back whatever you catch.”
“Trust me on this.”
He abandoned the washing he’d been doing and waded straight into the stream with a splash.

*

Kang Jo boiled the fish Yang Jung had caught until the flesh grew tender.
While boiling, he added ginger, pine needles, and spices to kill the fishiness.
Then he strained it through cloth, removed the fish, and mixed the flesh into the dough.
Tap! Tap!
As he worked the dough against the cutting board, drawing out noodles, the fish bones simmered in the pot.
The remaining fish he filleted, breaded, and fried in oil.
Yang Jung brought back several more fish after that.
“Do we really have to go through all this trouble for one guest?”
He’d overheard the conversation at the Stone Bridge, so he guessed that the middle-aged woman had ordered fish noodles.
It was difficult for the Guest Inn to prepare a special dish for a single customer.
“We’ll eat it for dinner ourselves anyway, won’t we?”
“Still, it’s extra work just as you said.”
“I know.”
Truthfully, Kang Jo wasn’t entirely eager about fish noodles either.
It was his first attempt at making them, so he had no confidence, and he couldn’t be sure the dish would suit the guest’s palate.
Yet part of him wanted to seize this chance to try something new.
“Taste it first.”
Before presenting it to the guest, Kang Jo prepared a bowl of fish noodles for a trial.
Yang Jung, who had been full of complaints, accepted the bowl with sudden brightness.
“I’ll be very honest in my judgment. So if something negative comes from my mouth, you’ll forgive me, yes?”
“Just eat already.”
Yang Jung picked up noodles with his chopsticks and brought them to his mouth.
Slurp.
Mmm…
He closed his eyes and savored the taste as though tasting some magnificent dish.
Kang Jo felt irritation creeping in as he watched, and his hands tensed slightly.
Nodding slowly in appreciation, Yang Jung tasted the broth and then popped the fried fish into his mouth.
But he offered no judgment.
“One bowl isn’t enough for me to evaluate properly. May I have another? A generous portion, please.”
As Yang Jung pushed the empty bowl forward, irritation rose in Kang Jo’s throat.
“Stop talking nonsense and tell me straight.”
“It’s not nonsense—the flavor is truly subtle, that’s why.”
Yang Jung replied with bright, earnest eyes.
Left with no choice, Kang Jo set down another bowl of fish noodles.
Slurp…slurp…
After emptying the second bowl, Yang Jung straightened and released a long breath.
Ahhhh…
“That was delicious.”
Watching him, Kang Jo felt the irritation now running from his arms into his fists.
“Speak. Now.”
At the weight in Kang Jo’s voice, Yang Jung quickly opened his mouth.
“The noodles are less chewy than pork or chicken noodles. But there’s no fishiness, the broth is rich—it’s exactly my taste. Only the fried fish…the flesh is firm, but…it doesn’t quite suit my palate.”
“How is it not to your taste?”
Yang Jung rose slowly from his seat.
“Everyone’s palate is different, so I’m afraid I cannot say much on the matter.”
Trusting this wretch had been a mistake.
The moment Kang Jo’s eyes flashed with intent, Yang Jung was already moving.
Bang!
His body shot out of the Guest Inn with a sound that tore through the air.
In the same instant, Kang Jo pursued him and seized his collar.
‘What?’
His fingertips brushed past Yang Jung’s sleeve and found only air.
Whoosh…
By then, Yang Jung had already vaulted over the Stone Bridge and vanished toward the Murim Alliance.
‘You little rat.’
Bang!
Kang Jo’s body cleared the Stone Bridge in a heartbeat.
All this running had honed the man’s Divine Movement Technique and Lightness Skill to a remarkable edge.

*

Cho Yak observed the skilled personnel at the Training Ground.
Whether because of first impressions or something else, not a single one had asked for her instruction.
Or perhaps they were so absorbed in their martial practice that they’d forgotten she was watching them at all.
As dusk settled, Cho Yak left the Murim Alliance.
Even if the Guest Inn’s cooking was superb, she harbored no great expectations.
As she walked at an easy pace, she felt a pale form materialize before her eyes in an instant.
Startled, she tightened her grip on the Michiemddo in her hand.
The moment her hand moved, the form veered sharply toward the grass.
The pale shape flew across the grass blades, skimming just above them.
‘Yang Jung?’
Cho Yak watched the figure disappear at tremendous speed.
‘There’s an inn in front of the Murim Alliance. The cooking is extraordinary. The young owner has guts spilling out past his belly, and he’s got a younger brother too—handsome in a way that bothers you. Both of them look and act like they’re not ordinary folk.’
Dok-go Yeop had spoken of the Guest Inn every time they met.
So her interest was piqued, and she’d stopped by before entering the Murim Alliance.
Whoosh…
The moment Yang Jung vanished, wind whipped past again.
‘The inn’s owner?’
The form pursuing him, growing distant in a heartbeat, was unmistakably the young proprietor of the Guest Inn.
She watched them go with vacant eyes, then turned her steps back toward the inn.
‘Yeop was right.’

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