The Fortunate Sword God of the Zhuge Clan - Chapter 48

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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 48.
Mu Hun woke early, washed thoroughly, and dressed in white robes trimmed with striking green—the colors of the Je Gal Clan.
Je Gal Cheon Seong had commissioned them specially for Mu Hun, who had now fully transformed into a true martial artist.
Made from Yun Duan Silk, the fabric felt remarkably soft against the skin.
Beyond Lichun, Hubei’s heat had grown fierce enough that even light exertion brought sweat, and the garment’s breathability matched those conditions perfectly.
Most notably, hidden vents had been sewn throughout, allowing far greater freedom of movement than ordinary clothing.
Mu Hun stood before the eastern mirror in his new robes and smiled with satisfaction.
At just over six feet tall, his frame had filled out with muscle, his weight now approaching two hundred pounds.
With the sword at his hip and the new attire, he could scarcely have looked more like a martial artist.
‘Well, well—delighted by something so simple.’
He wondered if he was wasting his years on vanity, yet it couldn’t be helped.
Living out a life he’d thought merely a dream for decades was simply too joyful.
Mu Hun took a deep breath to settle his excitement and stepped outside.
Je Gal Cheon Seong, who had been discussing the day’s schedule with his retainers and Ryeong, caught sight of Mu Hun and nodded approvingly.
“The new robes suit you well. No discomfort anywhere?”
“How could there be any discomfort with something you prepared yourself, Father? In truth, they fit so perfectly I almost forget they aren’t part of my own body.”
“You’re too much for words.”
Je Gal Cheon Seong smiled warmly, studying Mu Hun quietly.
“I’ve long known your looks are striking, but seeing you in these new robes leaves me almost embarrassed. I’m beginning to think I shouldn’t take you out in public—for the sake of peace in the Central Plains, no less.”
Caught off guard by the sudden compliment, Mu Hun scratched his cheek sheepishly.
“You chide me for making too much fuss, then exceed it yourself? How am I to respond, Father?”
“If you’re going to make a fuss, one should show you how it’s done properly.”
At Je Gal Cheon Seong’s jest, Mu Hun let out a wry laugh.
“Truly, Father—I learn something new from you each day.”
Je Gal Cheon Seong nodded with evident satisfaction.
The retainers watching the exchange bore bright expressions themselves.
They were the same men who had witnessed Mu Hun, the Je Gal Clan’s second son, suffer from a Severed Pulse his entire life.
Knowing him to be virtuous above all others, their pity for his condition had been all the deeper.
To see the boy now thriving, bantering freely with his father the clan head, was a sight they could not help but cherish.
Yet there was one who found this scene difficult to bear.
“What exactly are the two of you doing?”
Mu Young, dressed in the Je Gal Clan’s formal attire just as Mu Hun was, asked in a blunt tone.
Though his voice was gruff, his expression betrayed an amused smile.
“So the second son receives all the praise—does that wound you?”
“What do you mean, Father? I only fear the rumors that you’re a partial parent might spread.”
At Mu Young’s clever retort, Mu Hun grinned.
“Brother, I’m more afraid they’ll say you, as the heir, are jealous of your younger brother.”
“What.”
“Mu Hun speaks truly. If you’ve inherited such advanced martial techniques as the Great Heaven Star Divine Art, shouldn’t your vessel grow to match?”
“So this is how you cast me aside? I’m so wronged I could weep. Won’t someone stand up for this poor heir?”
Yet Mu Young’s lips never lost their smile despite his words.
The household staff saw through it plainly, and so the Je Gal Clan residence filled with warmth from the earliest hours.
The atmosphere within the Je Gal Clan had never truly been poor.
Je Gal Cheon Seong was not a man so sentimental as to darken his household’s mood with parental worry.
Yet it was only natural for a father, regardless of outward show, to harbor concern for his children.
With the clan head’s worries eased, it followed that the mood would brighten considerably.
“Now that the young master has arrived, shall we depart?”
“Ah, wait a moment.”
At the retainer’s question, Je Gal Cheon Seong turned back to Mu Hun.
“Did Yang Mu Jin, the one appointed to lead the Cheon Eung Corps, say he would travel separately after all?”
To the question about Yang Mu Jin, Mu Hun nodded.
“Yes, as I mentioned—he has children in his care, so traveling with us might be an imposition.”
“Imposition? Even if it were, I said he could leave them in the care of the main household.”
“Since the Dragon Phoenix Gathering isn’t something one sees every day, he wished to go along and broaden the children’s horizons.”
Je Gal Cheon Seong stroked his beard with evident approval.
“Hmm. So beyond merely feeding and sheltering abandoned children, he seeks to give them genuine opportunity.”
“I haven’t yet met him, but the more I hear, the more impressed I am. It seems you’ve found a worthy companion.”
“I’m grateful for your words, Father.”
Mu Hun performed the Fist Salute and expressed his gratitude to Je Gal Cheon Seong.
‘Not wrong, but….’
Je Gal Cheon Seong’s understanding differed somewhat from the truth.
Yang Mu Jin did love children, but the reason he agreed to take them was that Mu Hun had sweetened the arrangement a bit more.
“Waaaah! I want to go too! I want to see! I want to watch the commander and vice-commander fight!”
“I’m not fighting! Only the vice-commander fights! The Je Gal Clan is handling it!”
“I don’t like it! I want to go with you! If you don’t take me, I won’t eat!”
“Then don’t eat! Don’t you dare! Starve!”
“Waaaaaaah!”
Recalling that scene, Mu Hun smiled softly and continued.
“So, at my discretion, I arranged for carriages spacious enough to accommodate the children as well.”
“Well done. I’ll send word ahead to the lodging where the main house is staying, so have them settle their belongings there upon arrival.”
“Thank you for your consideration.”
Je Gal Cheon Seong waved dismissively.
“All children are the future of the martial world. Whose descendants they are, where they come from—such things matter not at all. Anyone who understands and practices this principle deserves respect.”
Mu Hun nodded deeply in agreement with Je Gal Cheon Seong’s words.
“I will remember this.”
“Good. Then…”
Je Gal Cheon Seong glanced at his attendants to confirm nothing was amiss, then nodded slowly.
“We depart for Wu Dang Mountain.”
***
Shortly before his return, the phantom of Seo Ryong that Mu Hun had encountered while climbing Tae Baek Mountain had spoken thus.
“Now I understand why Hua Mountain became the holy land of Daoism, and not this highest peak.”
The phantom of Seo Ryong attributed this to Tae Baek Mountain’s extreme ruggedness, yet Hua Mountain was hardly less formidable.
That Hua Mountain became the Daoist holy land was fundamentally because it was one of the Five Sacred Mountains—formed from the body of Pangu, the giant in mythology who created the Central Plains.
Moreover, countless Daoist masters who left their mark in actual history had practiced there and achieved great accomplishments.
It followed naturally that the Hua Mountain Sect, inheriting that legacy, was established upon Hua Mountain itself.
But what of Wu Dang Mountain?
Though neither the highest mountain nor among the Five Sacred Mountains, Wu Dang Mountain nonetheless stood as one of the first sacred lands that came to mind when one thought of Daoism.
The First Immortal Mountain Under Heaven.
This epithet alone, by which Wu Dang Mountain was known, spoke volumes of its prestige.
It stemmed from the legend that the True Warrior Emperor, one of the supreme deities of Daoism, attained enlightenment here.
The Ming imperial court had been enchanted by the arrangement of seventy-two peaks surrounding the Heaven Pillar Peak—the main peak—as though a myriad mountains came in audience before their sovereign, and had championed Wu Dang Mountain greatly.
‘But the greatest reason was, of course…’
The Wu Dang Sect, the Pillar of the Martial World established by the patriarch Zhang San Feng.
Mu Hun took in the sight of the Wu Dang Sect with fresh eyes after so long.
Solemn temples stood scattered across that vast grounds in an almost austere elegance.
Some might call them aged, yet knowing that these halls had upheld their Daoist purpose for centuries, even refusing the patronage of the imperial court itself, the time embedded in them felt not decrepit but magnificent.
A cool mountain breeze touched his collar, dispelling the humid summer heat of Hubei.
Lowering his gaze, a group of Daoist monks approached from the Je Gal Clan’s direction.
The entire Je Gal Clan, including patriarch Je Gal Cheon Seong, raised their fists in the Fist Salute, expressing their respect toward those who came to meet them.
Mu Hun did the same.
This was courtesy toward the Wu Dang Sect, yet strictly speaking, it was courtesy directed at but one person.
The eldest among the monks now close at hand stroked his snowy beard and smiled benevolently.
“Ah… for such a young talent as Patriarch Je Gal to show such excessive courtesy to this old man…”
“What do you say? If no one were watching, I would cast myself to the ground in kowtow such is my heart.”
“My, my. To receive such lavish treatment… I beg you, please spare me this.”
A martial master revered by all the jianghu.
The sect master of Wu Dang and one of the Five Unrivaled Under Heaven, Yun Hak Jin, restrained Je Gal Cheon Seong’s ardor.
“If you insist…”
Je Gal Cheon Seong gradually lowered his Fist Salute.
Yun Hak Jin nodded with a countenance as forgiving as one who absolves all transgressions.
“How have you fared? While our greedy monks have frittered away their time, I hear you have labored greatly to protect Hubei.”
“You are too kind. How could our clan safeguard Hubei without the aid of Wu Dang?”
“Ah, such pleasant words leave me at a loss for composure.”
The two exchanged pleasantries with mutual laughter.
Though it might seem mere courtesy, at least from Je Gal Cheon Seong’s part it was sincere.
Hubei was vast.
Great as the Je Gal Clan’s influence was, there were limits to the regions it could protect, yet with Wu Dang’s presence, Hubei had become one of the safest regions under heaven.
This renown greatly benefited the Je Gal Clan’s reputation as well, making Je Gal Cheon Seong’s gratitude something for which he could never give thanks enough.
Beyond that, there was personal respect.
While the Five Great Families and the Nine Sects and One Alliance were typically treated as two great powers dividing the Orthodox Sects, even within them distinctions of renown existed.
The Shaolin Temple of Song Mountain and Wu Dang Sect of Wu Dang Mountain, known as the Pillar of the Martial World, were schools that commanded respect even from other great sects and families.
Moreover, Yun Hak Jin had already made a name for himself in the martial world from Je Gal Cheon Seong’s earliest years, so it was not easy to relax formality even when the man himself urged it.
Yun Hak Jin chuckled softly at Je Gal Cheon Seong, who was showing such evident respect, and led him deeper into the Wu Dang Sect.
“Standing out here is hardly proper. The day has grown quite warm, hasn’t it? Let us retire indoors and continue our conversation there.”
“Very well.”
Je Gal Cheon Seong turned to regard Mu Young and Mu Hun.
“Mu Young, you follow me.”
“Yes, Father.”
“And Mu Hun, go meet the Yang family men who have likely not yet arrived. With the children along, they will find it rather difficult to reach their lodging on their own.”
“I shall do so.”
Mu Hun was neither the heir to the Je Gal Clan nor fully recovered in health, so during this Dragon Phoenix Gathering he had been given little duty beyond competing in the tournament itself.
From Mu Hun’s perspective, this was fortunate—it meant he could concentrate entirely on the Ten Thousand Stars Heavenly Sword and the Heavenly Mountain Chain Art.
‘Then I should seek out the Captain….’
Just as Mu Hun was about to move toward Yang Mu Jin, he paused.
-Congratulations, Young Taoist Friend.
A sudden sound transmission reached Mu Hun’s ears, and he turned around.
At the edge of his vision, Yun Hak Jin was watching him with a mysterious smile.
-I have long harbored regret about your condition, but seeing you in such fine health brings this old man’s heart ease.
Warmed by Yun Hak Jin’s words, Mu Hun smiled.
Though they had scarcely spoken before, meeting only in passing, Yun Hak Jin offered sincere congratulations without asking how Mu Hun had recovered so well.
This was precisely the manner that drew the respect of those in the martial world.
-I am moved that you would offer such congratulations, sir.
-“Sir”? Not even “Sect Leader,” but “sir”—you go even further than the family head does. Ha….
Though this was a common form of address for the leader of Wu Dang, and though it was affixed to his own title, Yun Hak Jin waved a hand as though burdened and turned to leave.
Mu Hun paused for a moment, watching his retreating form.
‘What else would one call him?’
Yun Hak Jin, the Immortal of Ultimate Harmony, would ascend to immortality in the not-distant future.
Not from any other cause—simply from age.
Having earned respect in the martial world since Je Gal Cheon Seong was but a child, Yun Hak Jin had already passed one hundred and twenty years.
‘If the Immortal had maintained his vigor, the Imperial Palace would not have dared eye the Central Plains so boldly….’
It was a pity, but to beseech an elderly master who had fulfilled his mandate to live on would be a grave disrespect.
Had he not already given countless things to the martial world throughout his long years?
‘And Wu Dang’s future is hardly dark.’
Though Yun Hak Jin himself had not intended it, the Wu Dang Sect harbored abundant talents overshadowed by the renown of the Immortal of Ultimate Harmony.
Mu Hun knew these figures better than anyone, for without them in his past life, the war against the Imperial Palace could never have endured as long as it did.
Smiling as he recalled their faces, Mu Hun resumed his pace toward Yang Mu Jin.
***
In a space lit by nothing but a single candle, two men faced each other.
The light was scarce, and both men wore pitch-black garments, making it exceedingly difficult to discern their situation from appearance alone.
Yet one man knelt on a single knee, his head bowed, while the other read a letter report held out to him—enough to suggest a subordinate offering a report to a superior.
After finishing the letter, the standing man spoke in a heavy voice.
“I am reading this correctly, am I not?”
The kneeling man’s body stiffened at the words laden with meaning.
“…There are no omissions in the reported content, sir.”
“No omissions, you say.”
The man pointed at each line of the report with a finger, letting out a hollow laugh as though the absurdity were unbearable.
“If this is all the report contains and there are no omissions, then you have failed at every task assigned to you.”
“…I beg your pardon.”
“Pardon? There is no need.”
“Sir?”
A dull sound, like a blade passing through leather.
“Agh—”
The kneeling man’s hand flew to his neck.
Feeling something pass through the space between his shoulders, he experienced a moment of absolute terror.
“Please! Please! I will investigate his movements henceforth. Have mercy….”
The man tried to speak further, his face contorted with fear, but found he could not.
His head had already parted from his shoulders and was falling to the ground.
Thud.
The man who had received the report glanced down at the severed head and clicked his tongue.
“Mercy, mercy—how can one reattach what has already fallen?”
In a single fluid motion, the saber had severed his subordinate’s neck, yet not a drop of blood clung to the blade’s surface.
Even from the severed neck itself, no blood flowed.
It was testimony to the man’s mastery of the Saber Technique.
As if such a thing were nothing at all, the man slumped into a seated position and pressed his palm against his brow.
“In the end, the responsibility falls to me. This post pays wretchedly. Wretchedly indeed.”
The man read through the useless report once more, racking his mind to find what his incompetent subordinates had overlooked.
Such cases were rare, but precisely because they were rare, they proved all the more troublesome.
Yet he could not shirk from it.
The man himself faced the same danger—submit such a report to his superiors, and his head would roll just as surely.
After staring at the report for some time, consumed by grim thoughts of his position, the man made a light gesture into the empty air.
At once, a figure emerged from the shadows, face concealed behind a mask.
“You summoned me.”
“Yes. Your successor bungled the work. Catastrophically, in fact.”
At the mention of his successor, the masked figure’s body tensed.
The implication was clear—he bore responsibility for having failed to properly oversee his replacement.
“I beg your pardon.”
“No. Your fault is grave, true—but have you not known me to be a merciful man? I shall grant you one more chance.”
“Command me as you will. I shall not fail.”
At the masked figure’s urgent tone, the man nodded and pointed a finger at a passage in the report.
“In Hubei, we failed to kill a certain small fish.”
The man’s finger did not pause but continued downward.
“And after approximately ten days’ journey, those who were testing the Heaven Fragrance Joy Medicine at a mountain stronghold in the Da Pa Mountain Range were eliminated.”
The man tilted his head as if intrigued.
“Strange, is it not? That such a thing should occur at a distance that would take roughly ten days’ travel by carriage from Hubei?”
The masked figure nodded immediately in understanding.
“You suggest the successor of the Solitary Sword has wrought this destruction.”
“It is a suspicion. Had that wretch survived, we would have known that his organization members’ bodies bore evidence of communications with Sichuan.”
Of course, this remained mere suspicion for now.
“Yet even so, how he managed to locate precisely that mountain stronghold in the Da Pa range, identify the infiltrators within it, and neutralize them—that method eludes us. But if this dog possessed the means to accomplish all that, what would his next move be?”
This time, the masked figure’s answer came more slowly.
“Perhaps he would report the existence of the evil organization to the magistrate’s office.”
“You fool. If he had informed the magistrate, would we not know of it?”
The man pressed his hand to his forehead in frustration.
“This wretch would attempt to alert not the magistrate, but the orthodox sects. As for Sichuan’s mightiest orthodox faction—the Tang Clan, certainly—but fortunately, the Tang do not receive visitors so readily. So what would be this dog’s next choice?”
Having erred twice already, the masked figure considered at length before answering in a voice stripped of confidence.
“He would seek some means by which to convey his information and plead for aid.”
“Correct.”
“Yet whoever he confides in will not easily believe him. The Je Gal Clan has experienced such matters, yet they merely arbitrated an incident within their domain—they have no reason to court danger by aiding him.”
“Then what would he do?”
“Were I in his place… I would seize an opportunity. A chance to reveal before countless witnesses all that I have endured and expose the covert activities of this organization. Ah—I see it now.”
The masked figure nodded, realization dawning.
“He will participate in the Dragon Phoenix Gathering to elevate his standing and expose our presence.”
“Now that is conversation.”
The man smiled faintly and posed another question.
“Then what is your task to be?”
The masked figure answered without hesitation.
“To eliminate him before he rises to prominence within the Dragon Phoenix Gathering.”
“Precisely.”
At last, the man nodded with visible satisfaction.
Of the Snake Stem faction, three others besides you remain at headquarters. I grant you command over them. Infiltrate the Dragon Phoenix Gathering with your people and assassinate the small fish. Cleanly. Without a sound.”
The masked figure received the command and offered the fist salute.
“I shall execute this order without the slightest error.”
Huk Gun, known as Bone-Breaking Snake Stem—one of the five brigades under the command of Black Killer’s supreme martial master, Snake Stem—had begun to move, tasked with the assassination of Dok Go Hyeon.

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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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