Surviving as the Sacheon Dang Clan’s Servant - Chapter 83

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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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Episode 83
After days of sleeping rough, the ground beneath my feet in Hubei was sprouting green shoots.
The brutal winter had retreated, and spring was on its way.
I lifted my head, treading on earth that had gone soft with thaw.
Mountain peaks towered impossibly high, ridges overlapping like waves across the horizon.
Mountains beyond mountains—this vast continent seemed determined to block my path at every turn with its chains of peaks.
Now I understood why Grandfather had made me climb mountains and scramble up cliffs every single day.
Surely I wasn’t going to have to cross that one too.
As I stood there, dazed, staring at the distant summit, Yeon Lyang spoke.
“That’s Mount Wudang, sister. Junxian should be coming into view soon—we can rest there.”
“Oh. Is there a town?”
“There is. From here on, we should be able to hire a carriage.”
“Really?”
So I wouldn’t have to cross this treacherous mountain range on foot after all?
The moment the realization sank in that my life-or-death climbing was over, even the mist clinging to the mountainside—which had been irritating me moments before—suddenly seemed beautiful.
I gazed at Mount Wudang’s panorama with a noticeably lighter heart.
There it was—the Wudang Sect I’d only heard about in stories. Were those red specks the Daoist temple buildings?
Watching the change cross my face, Yeon Lyang burst out laughing.
“Ha! Come back to earth, sister. Your soul just floated right out of your body. We’d better rest at an inn soon.”
“I want to wash with hot water. And eat meat.”
“Yes. Soak in hot water and get some sleep. Just don’t leave the inn while we’re in Junxian, all right?”
“Why not?”
“This place attracts aspiring Martial Artists from all over Zhongyuan, men who come here out of reverence for the Wudang name. For a Heterodox Sect dog like me, it’s a deeply uncomfortable spot.”
Yeon Lyang chuckled and stroked his chin.
Stubble had grown in thick, covering his cheeks and jawline completely.
I wonder what I look like in this state.
I pretended not to notice the grimy mess of him—all the grime of the open road still clinging to his appearance—and asked, “So accidents happen often?”
“With hot-blooded rookies from the Martial World pouring in from every direction, how could it not be chaotic? Best to steer clear of trouble. Stay out of sight.”
Yeon Lyang, who’d just reduced people from all over Zhongyuan to excrement with a few casual words, laced his fingers behind his head and began whistling.
He didn’t seem to realize how conspicuous a door-sized man with a long scar across his eye looked while whistling and strolling through town.
You stand out just by existing, I thought.
I began drifting away from him, making sure to look unconnected. I wasn’t about to become conspicuous by association.
As we drew closer to Junxian, well-maintained roads came into view, and travelers began to appear.
Sure enough, several carriages passed by, and there were merchants moving about as well.
“People are starting to gather.”
“They are. And a lot of them aren’t even Martial Artists.”
“Well, it’s Mount Wudang. It’s a venerable Daoist institution, so it’s natural that people never stop coming.”
Why is that? I wondered aloud.
Seeing my confused expression, Yeon Lyang winked at me.
“Mount Wudang is a Daoist temple first and a martial school second, sister. It’s a place of worship. Of course there are lots of incense offerings visitors.”
“Ah…….”
Right—it was a religious institution. Like visiting a famous temple or cathedral.
I tilted my head thoughtfully. “What do people do at a Daoist temple?”
“They listen to Daoist Priests reciting scripture, receive blessing talismans to take home. And I’ve heard plenty of people come to have their children named there.”
They name children at the temple? Write talismans and take payment? It’s the concept of paying a donation and receiving a blessing prayer. This is no pure sanctuary—it’s a corporation.
“So they charge money for naming children?”
“Of course.”
“People pay money just to have a name given to them? What for?”
“It’s the easiest way to create a connection between a child and Mount Wudang.”
A connection?
I blinked, clearly not understanding, and Yeon Lyang, smirking, began explaining carefully.
“Proud sects like Shaolin or Wudang don’t accept donations from just anyone. If they took money from every nobody who walked in, and then had some annoying problem crop up later, wouldn’t that be troublesome? So they don’t leave any opening in the first place.”
He lifted his shoulders and continued.
“But naming a child is different. Anyone can ask for it, and there’s no limit on the amount—you can make a substantial donation. Since a name is said to shape a person’s entire life, they claim its value can’t be measured…….”
“In other words, you’re expected to pay however much you think is appropriate?”
“Ha, exactly. That’s why the newly rich often bring their children—it’s their only way to secure a tie to an Orthodox Sect.”
“Wow…….”
The structure was so worldly, it was almost admirable.
My admiration came out as a sigh.
Seongdo’s mercenary institutions suddenly seemed far less crude by comparison.
So you’re saying he gradually accepts donations in a way that doesn’t raise suspicion—a method so smooth no one could object.
If he donates like that, does Mount Wudang remember him?
Yeon Lyang opened his mouth again, as though reading my thoughts.
“There’s no harm in taking a name. It makes it easier for the child to get their name into the records later.”
“Why would it be easier?”
“If a child who came wanting to become a disciple is someone who gave them a name years ago, wouldn’t anyone’s heart soften?”
“Oh. That’s true, I suppose.”
“The donors aren’t hoping for anything grand. They’d be satisfied just telling people, ‘My son is a registered disciple of the Wudang Sect,’ and puffing out their chests. Mount Wudang gets money, the donors get a connection to Wudang they can brag about on the outside. Everyone wins. It’s the kind of cunning only an established sect could manage. There’s a reason they’ve lasted so long.”
This nepotism is the same everywhere you go.
Then again, you can’t live by swinging a sword alone. Even priests need money.
“You seem to know the situation well. Have you visited Mount Wudang yourself?”
“Not a chance. If someone like me—a heterodox sect dog—set foot on Mount Wudang, there’d be hell to pay. It’s all just hearsay.”
Yeon Lyang chuckled and folded his arms.
“Oh, and if you ever do climb Mount Wudang, don’t forget to make an incense offering. I hear they care most about propriety, so visitors should pay their respects to Mount Wudang’s ancestors first—it’s considered proper etiquette.”
“You have to pay when you light the incense, right?”
“Probably.”
They certainly collect admission fees thoroughly.
I hadn’t imagined aloof immortals cultivating the Way atop a mountain peak, but thinking of it as a tourist site where you paid an entrance fee somehow deflated my spirit.
I listened silently to Yeon Lyang’s words when I suddenly grew curious.
“But doesn’t one have to leave their weapons at the gate before climbing Mount Wudang?”
There were stories about protagonists stubbornly refusing to surrender their weapons, leading to constant fights. Namgoong Hui had refused once and ended up fighting.
“You mean the Sword Resolution Pool? That’s what I heard. Though the explanation goes that visitors should release their worldly attachments and worries into the pool before ascending Mount Wudang.”
I closed my mouth with a wry smile.
The Wudang Sect priests seemed more attached to worldly wealth than anyone I’d ever seen.
“Isn’t it really just an excuse? A practical measure to prevent trouble? They can’t have fighting breaking out in a Daoist temple.”
“Ha, you’ve got it. That’s probably their true intention. They’d find a commotion annoying.”
As Yeon Lyang and I chatted and walked, a bustling settlement came into view far ahead.
No, “settlement” was too small a word.
The crowded marketplace with its tall, tightly packed buildings was as complex as the streets of Seongdo transplanted whole.
“That’s not a village, is it?”
“No, it isn’t. Bigger than I expected.”
Yeon Lyang’s eyes widened in surprise. It seemed he hadn’t known Mount Wudang’s influence extended this far.
“Northern Reverence to Shaolin, Southern Reverence to Wudang—they’ve actually built a city at the base of the mountain. Sister, I need to step up my game. At this scale, every innkeeper and shopkeeper in Junxian must be related to Wudang through some distant connection.”
“Northern Reverence to Shaolin, Southern Reverence to Wudang?”
“It’s what people commonly say about Shaolin and Wudang being the great mountains of the Orthodox sects in the Martial World. Haven’t you heard? You are from an Orthodox sect, aren’t you? Here I am, a heterodox sect ruffian, knowing this, but a lady from a prestigious family doesn’t?”
At Yeon Lyang’s teasing words, I pouted.
“You keep saying Orthodox sect, Orthodox sect—but I’m a bastard, remember? Who teaches that kind of thing to a bastard child?”
“Ha, that’s why you got cast out.”
I almost felt like striking him.
When I glared at Yeon Lyang, he pretended to cower.
“Eek. You’re going to hit me. Sister.”
“Brother, don’t people tell you constantly that you’re tactless?”
Bickering with Yeon Lyang, I entered a nearby inn.
After soaking my body in hot water for the first time in seven days and changing into fresh, dry clothes, my spirits lifted and I found myself humming.
“Kyu, uuu…”
Ju Ryeong, who’d washed their fur alongside me, draped themselves wearily over my head.
Coming slowly down to the inn’s first floor, I spotted Yeon Lyang freshly shaven and neat.
“Sister, come here. I ordered the food already.”
Before Yeon Lyang, who waved his hand, lay a large plate of lamb ribs and steamed fish.
The moment I approached Yeon Lyang, several figures in Taoist robes bearing Taiji Markings entered the inn.
Affixed to their waists were sword sheaths carved with a Pine Pattern.
They were unmistakably practitioners of the Taiqing Sword Technique that Wudang was famous for.
I glanced at the line of priests and sat in my chair.
The group all appeared fairly aged. They all wore long beards, and deep wrinkles lined their eyes.
But one person stood apart.
A single swordsman with an unusually youthful face stood among them. Even being generous, he looked no older than his late teens.
Judging by the identical robes, he seemed to have the same rank, but had he also undergone the Reverse Aging Cultivation?
As I stared fixedly at the young priest, Yeon Lyang nudged me and whispered softly.
“You’re staring pretty hard there. Sister. Has this handsome priest caught your fancy?”
“No. I’m not getting involved with someone suspiciously beautiful like that. He’s either an old master who went through Reverse Aging Cultivation, or a young lord from some powerful family.”
Yeon Lyang shrugged his shoulders as if I’d said something absurd again.
“A Reverse Aging Cultivator? The young master of the Namgoong clan? Our sister’s imagination really is something.”
I’m telling you the truth.
I shook my head firmly and brought my chopsticks to the steamed fish.
I decided to ignore the Taoist group and simply fill my belly.
“Jin Seong, don’t you regret returning to Mount Wudang?”
“Not at all, senior. A disciple of the main temple should naturally remain at the main temple.”
“Why would you even ask such a thing, Jingok? Have you ever seen the boy complain?”
“Ha, Jin Seong. Feel free to speak more casually in front of us. Aren’t we brothers in the sect?”
“If you were Jin Seong’s age, would you want to speak casually with old men like us? Wouldn’t you rather keep company with the young disciples of the Song family?”
Yet the conversation drifting from behind made it impossible for me to focus on eating.
Jin Seong?
That Jin Seong—Namgoong Hui’s rival? The future First Blade of Wudang?
The moment I turned my head toward Jin Seong with widened eyes, one of the Taoists caught my gaze and asked.
“Miss, is there something we can help you with?”

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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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