The Fortunate Sword God of the Zhuge Clan - Chapter 40

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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 40.
In his past life, Yang Mujin had failed to keep the promise he’d made to do whatever was asked of him.
It wasn’t that Yang Mujin himself had refused to keep that promise.
—…You say Yang Mujin was murdered?
Mu Yeon regarded the messenger with an expression of disbelief.
—Yes. Before the Commander’s order could be given, he slipped past our watch and threw himself alone into the place where the Imperial Army appeared….
—I see…. How could such a thing happen? Was Yang Mujin not someone beyond easy defeat?
—It so happened that the General’s palanquin was present at that very location.
—This is troublesome.
Mu Yeon gazed upward for a moment, his expression heavy with regret.
—Did you recover his body?
—Yes. Though half of it was lost… we were able to find him.
—See that he receives a proper funeral, and bury him among the children who had asked him to look after them.
—Your command will be obeyed.
—Furthermore, investigate Yang Mujin’s past. What was his relationship with those children, and what truth lies behind the claim that he was the last descendant of the Yang household?
Though it was unnecessary, Mu Yeon made it a practice to remember the pasts of those slain in battle, one by one.
Even if life was lost, if the record remained, then the proof that such a person had existed would endure.
Mu Yeon harbored the intention that if war ever ended, he would compile their stories into a book of his own making.
It was a tribute to the fallen that only he, possessing Perfect Memory, could accomplish.
Thus, he always received reports from his warriors and recorded their personal details.
‘In the end, we were defeated and I never published that book….’
In any case, investigating Yang Mujin’s past was an extension of that same work.
“What occupies your thoughts so deeply?”
At Yang Mujin’s single word, Mu Yeon—or rather, Mu Yeon as he was now known—broke free from his reverie.
“Your hand is truly subtle, that’s all.”
“Good. Not bad, but subtle. A fitting word indeed.”
Yang Mujin nodded without losing his smile.
“The art of Tutjeon lies in discerning what one can accomplish with such subtle things. Rather like life itself.”
Tutjeon.
A gambling game conducted with sixty cards bearing illustrations and numbers—people, fish, birds, pheasants, stars, rabbits, and more.
Though many variations existed, the rules Mu Yeon and Yang Mujin were now following was Gabo Jakgi.
After receiving two cards, the image mattered not at all—victory went solely to whoever held the higher sum of the ones digits.
Above all, the speed of play was its greatest appeal.
Simple yet incorporating both chance and skill, it was the most popular gambling form across the realm.
Yang Mujin had suggested five rounds, saying the game ended too quickly otherwise to be amusing, and Mu Yeon had accepted, so the first hand was now underway.
His underlying intent was doubtless to recover Geumsa-ru’s wealth that Mu Yeon had already extracted, but Mu Yeon accepted knowing this full well.
And so, at Yang Mujin’s words, Mu Yeon gave a light shrug.
“You have a way with poetry.”
“Poetry? I merely recite what I’ve heard before. Though the words do touch the heart.”
Yang Mujin smiled slyly and added two Gold Coins to the base Stakes of one.
“Especially when I draw a hand like this, it feels as though fortune smiles upon my life as well.”
Mu Yeon studied Yang Mujin’s expression for a moment, then closed his eyes.
“The victory is yours.”
Mu Yeon did not match the Stakes.
“What’s this? Won’t you call such boasting? Folding the first hand so readily?”
Yang Mujin tilted his head as if genuinely surprised.
“It appears your hand cannot be matched with what I hold.”
“Hmm…. Well then, shall we see?”
Yang Mujin drew both Stakes toward himself and revealed his cards, taking four Gold Coins total.
“Your instinct is truly sharp. You raised the Stakes so moderately.”
The numbers written on Yang Mujin’s cards were the bird’s two and the pheasant’s six.
A full eight points—the third-strongest combination possible in Gabo Jakgi.
Mu Yeon nodded slowly and showed his own hand.
Mu Yeon’s cards were the man’s one and the man’s two.
Only three points at most.
Since it was a battle already lost, Mu Yeon’s decision not to match the Stakes proved wise in the end.
Yang Mujin set down his cards and brushed his hands clean.
“Well then, I’ll take the first round lightly.”
His gaze returned to Mu Yeon.
“Now the real game begins, wouldn’t you say?”
Ha Gwan shuffled the deck again and pushed it toward both players.
A sharp snap.
The brief, crisp sound echoed across the table.
Mu Yeon picked up his cards without much interest.
Or rather, he was watching something far more important than the cards themselves.
The exact moment Yang Mujin’s fingertips froze—a hesitation so minute it was almost imperceptible.
—That’s it! Mu Yeon, there’s definitely something hidden in that movement!
Jekal Cheonju, disguised as Sungchul, witnessed it and sent an urgent Telepathic Transmission.
Mu Yeon agreed with the assessment.
In the previous hand too, Yang Mujin had made that same motion.
‘If that were a technique using Inner Energy, there’s no way my uncle wouldn’t have noticed it.’
Admittedly, Yang Mujin was a master.
But Jekal Cheonju was the current patriarch’s brother and an elder of the Jekal Clan.
Had there been even the faintest trace of Inner Energy flowing, he could not have failed to detect it.
‘That momentary pause alone might have raised his suspicions of technique use, but not enough for certainty. After all, it was merely a hesitation.’
Yet unlike Jekal Cheonju, Mu Yeon could deduce almost immediately what that movement signified.
He knew well the Martial Techniques Yang Mujin employed.
“Second hand—let’s raise the stakes a bit.”
Unaware of these thoughts, Yang Mujin casually pushed forward Gold Coins.
A full five taels—far more than the first hand.
Yang Mujin’s gaze burned with profound certainty.
In truth, he’d swapped his hand to a guaranteed winning one the moment he saw it, so the confidence was warranted.
Mu Yeon studied him for a moment.
Then he offered the same response as before.
“I fold.”
“Hmm. Again? You’re throwing away the first two hands so easily?”
Yang Mujin clicked his tongue in mock regret.
“Three hands remain—I can afford to lose a couple. Besides, even if I were to lose four in a row, the Precious Sword would still be wagered on the fifth, wouldn’t it?”
“Ah, so that’s what you were thinking?”
Yang Mujin nodded, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth with unmistakable amusement.
“That’s troublesome then. Well, gambling has its own logic for each player, but as I said, it’s much like life itself, isn’t it?”
Yang Mujin gestured to Ha Gwan beside him.
Upon receiving Yang Mujin’s order, Ha Gwan rushed up the stairs in a flurry.
The sound was loud enough that Mu Yeon naturally turned his gaze toward him.
“Aren’t you curious what I’ve sent him to do?”
At the teasing tone, Mu Yeon looked back at Yang Mujin.
“You’ve ordered him to fetch the Precious Sword, haven’t you?”
“Oho.”
“So that you can wager it as the stakes in the next hand.”
“Heh-heh-heh.”
Yang Mujin nodded with evident satisfaction.
“Exactly right. Keen judgment, sharp reasoning. Impressive.”
Yang Mujin shrugged and continued.
“A person of your caliber keeps trying to play it safe—so I thought, what if you win a couple more hands and suddenly snatch the final one? Better to ride this winning streak while it lasts, I figured.”
At Yang Mujin’s glib response, Mu Yeon answered with silence.
To both Yang Mujin and Jekal Cheonju standing behind him, the gesture appeared one of distress.
—That cunning bastard! Mu Yeon, are you sure about this? We still haven’t unraveled his method….
—It’s fine, Uncle.
—Mm?
—I’ve identified his method. Fortunately, it poses no great threat.
—You’ve identified his method? Yet it poses no threat? What do you mean by that?
Jekal Cheonju sent the Telepathic Transmission in a voice tinged with confusion.
—If I’m not mistaken about the technique he’s using, I will be the one who wins.
—What? What nonsense is this?
—It’s because….
“What are you pondering so hard about?”
Just as Mu Yeon was about to answer, Yang Mujin cut him off.
“Ah. Were you perhaps exchanging Telepathic Transmissions with Sungchul? If so, my apologies for interrupting.”
“Telepathic Transmission? How could we employ such an arcane technique?”
Mu Yeon feigned innocence.
The two had refined the Inner Energy filling their Dantian into threads as fine as silk, circulating them through the Meridian Channels throughout their bodies—which meant that by ordinary standards, they would appear to be martial artists of early First-Class Rank.
Yang Mujin glanced back and forth between Mu Yeon and Sungchul, then let out a soft chuckle.
“Fair enough. So, shall we look at the cards from this round?”
“There’s little point, seeing as I’m already dead.”
“What does it matter? It’ll be interesting. Tutjeon is all about the outcome, sure—but there’s also the pleasure of watching how it unfolds.”
“…If you say so.”
Mu Yeon flipped his cards over with a light flourish.
His hand held four points: a three from the man-suit and a one from the bird-suit.
At the sight of this, Yang Mujin burst into delighted laughter.
“See? The process is where the fun is.”
At that same moment, Yang Mujin’s cards were revealed.
“What—what is this!”
Sungchul’s eyes went wide.
Astonishingly, Yang Mujin’s hand held only two points: a one from the rabbit-suit and a one from the bird-suit.
Had the round ended then, it would have been Mu Yeon’s victory.
“You wagered five Gold Coins on such a hand?”
Sungchul stared at Yang Mujin in shock.
Yang Mujin maintained his smile as though it were nothing.
“You were testing me from the very start. So I decided to play bold. But just as you were grumbling about it earlier, your nerve isn’t quite there yet.”
“That’s—that’s impossible. Just for provocation? You risked it all on two points?”
“Provocation alone was not my purpose. It was a calculated wager also meant to obscure my tendencies and make me harder to read. Or rather….”
Mu Yeon corrected Sungchul’s words, his gaze settling on Yang Mujin.
“You did not think of it as gambling at all, I suspect.”
“Right. I figured you’d stay sharp even while losing, reading the situation. Placing third consistently all this time—that shows a preference for the safe path. But….”
Yang Mujin let his smile fade for a moment, studying Mu Yeon.
“You’re calmer than I expected. I thought you’d be more rattled.”
“I was startled enough. It’s only that I show little expression.”
“…Is that so. I see.”
In truth, Mu Yeon had not been greatly shocked.
True, the brief encounter and investigation of his past life had not given him perfect understanding.
Yet from what he knew of Yang Mujin’s deeds, certain things could be inferred.
-You worked at Geumsa-ru? That gambling house?
-Yes. His talent as a dealer was so exceptional that he received special treatment from the proprietor, and it’s said he never lost a single hand.
-Never lost? Not once?
-Not once. Though his martial techniques are formidable and he might have used some method, it’s said he did not employ Inner Energy.
-Never lost without using Inner Energy, then….
Such a thing could not be achieved through technique alone.
It required the audacity to unsettle an opponent’s mind through provocation, as in this very moment, and the judgment to know precisely when to employ such tactics.
Only one possessed of a gambler’s nature—that instinctive gift—could manage it.
‘Thus, such an action is hardly surprising to me.’
Of course, Mu Yeon’s composure stemmed from more than mere prediction.
No matter what turn events took, he held the certainty that he would win.
“Ah.”
Just then, Ha Gwan returned from upstairs with the Precious Sword and handed it to Yang Mujin.
Yang Mujin grasped it, drew the blade before Sungchul and Mu Yeon as if to say ‘look here,’ and revealed it.
Indeed, worthy of such a treasure, the blade gleamed with a beautiful radiance.
“Ah, now that’s a fine sheen. First time I’ve drawn it, but seeing it like this just makes me hate losing all the more.”
At this sight, Sungchul made an uncomfortable sound, but Mu Yeon remained perfectly still.
“Then, shall we begin at once?”
“…You’re unpredictable, aren’t you. I thought your nerves were weak, but to hold such composure—impressive indeed.”
Yang Mujin nodded lightly, his smile broadening in acknowledgment.
“All right, let’s try. This time you’ll have to match stakes, yes? I’ll wager this Precious Sword, so what about you? The money you’ve won here won’t be enough, so how about several years of work here to balance it….”
“Mm.”
Thump!
Before Yang Mujin could finish speaking, Mu Yeon slammed two pieces of Gold Bullion—not mere Gold Coins—onto the table.
“…What are you doing?”
“My Stakes.”
“You’re wagering two pieces of Gold Bullion? More to the point, where did you even get these? You couldn’t possibly have earned this much here today?”
“Precisely because what I won here today was insufficient, I brought out what I hold personally.”
“…You carry two pieces of Gold Bullion in your breast?”
One Gold Bullion was worth fifty Gold Coins, which meant what Mu Yeon had just placed on the table amounted to one hundred Gold Coins.
In simple terms, he carried the equivalent of four houses in his pocket.
Yang Mujin shifted his gaze from the Gold Bullion to the Precious Sword.
“…So the blade is worth that much, then.”
Yang Mujin let out a light laugh as if utterly taken aback.
Mu Yeon tilted his head as though it were nothing remarkable.
“Will you play, or will you fold?”
At that provocative question, Yang Mujin gazed into empty space and burst out laughing.
“Ha-ha! Kha-ha-ha-ha!”
He then drew his head back, leaned his face closer to Mu Yeon, and placed the Precious Sword onto the table.
“Of course I’m in. Without question!”
Once Ha Gwan confirmed both men’s commitment, he dealt the cards.
The stakes had suddenly ballooned, and Ha Gwan’s tension was evident in every line of his face.
Yang Mujin’s hand paused as he examined his cards, much like it had in the previous rounds.
In that moment, Sungchul’s gaze was fixed entirely on what Yang Mujin might do, while Mu Yeon’s eyes remained riveted to his own hand as if indifferent to everything else.
‘Mu Yeon, are you truly certain about this?’
Sungchul broke into a cold sweat.
Finding the Precious Sword was problem enough, but the two Gold Bullions Mu Yeon had wagered came from his own purse.
Mu Yeon had pleaded with him to lend them, and he’d had no choice but to oblige, yet no matter how he looked at it, their position seemed hopelessly disadvantaged.
Even accounting for their own carelessness, a loss of this magnitude would cut deep, and Sungchul found himself unable to calm his nerves.
Yang Mujin gazed at Mu Yeon with a smirk playing at his lips.
“Well then. Shall we reveal them? I’ll go first this time….”
“Wait.”
“Hm?”
“There’s more I mean to wager.”
Thump.
Before his words had even finished, Mu Yeon hefted a weighty bundle onto the table.
“Every coin I won today. I’m putting all of it in. What else will you wager?”
“…What?”
Yang Mujin opened the bundle with an incredulous expression and examined its contents.
‘He won that much?’
While not quite the value of the Gold Bullion, the sum Mu Yeon had accumulated over the entire day at Geumsa-ru was considerable.
At the very least, it exceeded what Yang Mujin could immediately wager.
Yang Mujin turned to the man who had sent him here, his eyes silently asking whether Geumsa-ru could provide additional backing, but the man shook his head.
He’d been dispatched to recover losses caused by Mu Yeon—did they truly expect him to ask for more support?
It was absurd.
-No, I’m winning, I’m telling you? There’s no way I lose with my hand!
Yang Mujin sent Telepathic Transmission to the man, but his resolve was unshakable.
-There remains a possibility of defeat, does there not?
-No, that’s a less than one-percent chance. Does that even count?
-Even a less than one-percent chance is still a chance.
He could assume no further risk. That was the man’s final answer.
As Yang Mujin clicked his tongue in frustration, Mu Yeon spoke up.
“If you struggle to raise the money, there is another way.”
At that subtly barbed remark, Yang Mujin shook his head.
“No, wait. You clearly don’t know what you’re dealing with—my hand right now is not the sort to lose….”
“Or alternatively.”
Mu Yeon cut him off.
“What if we settled it by your doing me a favor instead?”
“…Heh.”
Yang Mujin let out an involuntary hollow laugh.
The sight of Mu Yeon, who had just lost two hands in a row, suddenly coming at him this aggressively because he’d caught a decent hand, struck Yang Mujin as utterly absurd.
“What hand must you have drawn to push so hard?”
Yang Mujin paused to consider, though his hesitation did not linger long.
The very notion that he might lose with his current hand was scarcely conceivable.
“Fine. Let’s do that. I’ll wager on it.”
“Good.”
“Besides, you know as well as I do that if you lose, none of this matters anyway, right?”
“Of course.”
“Then. Regardless of who loses, let’s call it square with no hard feelings afterward.”
Yang Mujin spoke thus and revealed his hand.
It was a bird’s five and a man’s four—nine points in total.
In other words, it was a Gabo, the highest hand in Gabo Jakgi.
Having revealed his cards, Yang Mujin reached toward the Gold Bullion with a smug grin.
“That settles it, then? Anyway, you pushed yourself too hard. Your opponent is me, after all. Go home and take it easy, thinking you learned something today—”
“Wait.”
“What now?”
Mu Yeon did not answer. Instead, he flipped over his own hand.
……
In that instant, a cold silence descended upon Geumsa-ru.
“A pheasant’s nine. And the General—ten. I also have a Gabo. And when both hands are a Gabo, the one holding the General ranks highest.”
Mu Yeon, leaving Yang Mujin slack-jawed behind him, picked up the Precious Sword.
“Tutjeon mirrors life—a fine saying indeed. And is life not a succession of the unexpected?”
Yang Mujin found no words to offer in reply.
At this, Mu Yeon smiled faintly and added one more thing.
“We agreed to part with no hard feelings, regardless of who lost. You’ll honor that, won’t you?”

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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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