The Fortunate Sword God of the Zhuge Clan - Chapter 9

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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 9.
A week had passed.
The current Murim Alliance Leader, Namgung Cheon, replied with impressive speed.
The moment Jeol Cheonseong’s letter arrived, Namgung Cheon sent word to meet in three days.
From Anhui to Hubei took three days.
‘That would require pushing horses at considerable pace.’
Not that it was incomprehensible.
The current Murim Alliance Leader and Military Strategist—Namgung Cheon and Jeol Cheonseong.
The two men, childhood friends from way back, enjoyed taking their sons out for drinks two or three times a year.
With both having risen to such lofty stations, they found it difficult to relax as freely as they had in their youth, so they arranged these separate meetings.
‘The Alliance Leader must be thirsty for some company, it seems.’
And today was exactly three days after that reply had arrived.
By evening, he would likely meet members of the Namgung family for the first time in ages.
Mu Heun’s lips curled upward at the thought of the long-awaited gathering.
“Young Master, has something pleasant happened to you?”
A mellow, agreeable voice pulled Mu Heun from his reverie.
The voice belonged to Hwang Yaksang, the elderly shopkeeper of the medicinal herb store Mu Heun had been visiting.
“Ah, indeed. An old friend is to visit today.”
“Ha ha! What good fortune! At your age, there’s nothing quite like friendship.”
Hwang Yaksang’s hearty laugh, fitting to his years, held a charm that warmed the spirit.
“True words. It ought to be so at our age.”
Mu Heun chuckled along good-naturedly, then let his gaze drift aside.
It landed upon a shabby old wooden box that would strike anyone as worn and decrepit.
“Say, Elder Hwang—what is that box?”
At Mu Heun’s question, a strange emotion flickered across the old shopkeeper’s eyes.
“That is… in truth, not a possession of this shop. Much less a family heirloom of mine.”
“Hmm? A family heirloom? What do you mean so suddenly?”
“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing—searching all through the Street Market for heirlooms?”
“Me? Is it?”
At Mu Heun’s question, the old merchant turned it back on him with bewilderment of his own.
“Well, from what I’ve heard, Young Master, you’ve been making the rounds of every shop in the Street Market, uncovering hidden heirlooms and treasured elixirs, then leaving payment as thanks…”
Upon hearing the old shopkeeper’s explanation, Mu Heun nodded as if he now understood.
“Ah. Has word spread that widely?”
For the past week, Mu Heun had come to the Street Market every single day, attended by a handful of servants.
He would have preferred to come alone, but Jeol Cheonseong’s concern had overruled him.
Even this would not have been permitted had he not demonstrated the Tianshan Consecutive Force.
‘Though somehow he would have found a way to let me go anyway.’
It was essential work for verifying the exact nature of the abilities Mu Heun had gained through his return.
‘And now… I can be certain.’
Mu Heun’s nose and eyes had been transformed to detect the scent that precious things carried.
The Street Market of Hubei had long flourished greatly under the protection of the Jeol Family and the Wudang Faction.
Because of that, nearly every shop—if not every one—possessed what could rightly be called a family heirloom.
Yet at first, he could not catch even a whiff of scent from anywhere, and he wondered if he’d misunderstood the nature of his own ability.
‘The confusion arose because the first thing I encountered was century-old Chinese foxglove.’
The century-old Chinese foxglove was none other than the family heirloom of a woodcarver.
It bore so rich a fragrance and such a vivid golden hue.
That had confused him.
‘The depth and paleness of the color varies according to the value of the treasure.’
Upon closer inspection, he realized that very faint scents were emanating from all manner of places.
With his poor eyesight, Mu Heun had squinted his way to the source of each scent, then asked the merchants if they possessed anything of value.
The merchants, initially reluctant to reveal the locations of their heirlooms, were startled when Mu Heun identified the spots precisely, and they showed him their treasures.
Mu Heun thanked them and paid an admission fee equal to the shop’s most expensive item.
The rumor had simply grown distorted in the telling.
“Well, squinting your eyes and flaring your nose certainly would give cause for strange rumors.”
“Yes indeed, the neighborhood women call you a treasure-hunting hound or some such thing… Ahem! I-I’m terribly sorry! What an awful thing to say….”
“Ha ha. Not at all. A dog that hunts for heirlooms—isn’t that rather apt? You saw what I was doing, after all.”
Mu Heun laughed heartily, brushing past Hwang Yaksang’s slip of the tongue.
He was not much bothered by the name attached to his work.
‘But it doesn’t stop at mere heirlooms…’
Mu Heun knew just how absurd his ability truly was.
‘This ability isn’t simply about finding Spiritual Medicine.’
The power Mu Heun had obtained fell into two distinct categories of things it could locate.
Spiritual Medicine shone with a golden hue, while objects like Treasure Swords or Secret Manuals glowed deep red.
The fragrances differed subtly as well.
Both were pleasant, but the scent of Spiritual Medicine made one’s mouth water, whereas the fragrance of treasures cleared the mind.
‘Truly, an ability that lets me find every stroke of fate in the world.’
The fact that they happened to be gold and red—colors that symbolized the Ming—left him dissatisfied, yet it was an overwhelmingly potent ability beyond such minor quibbles.
Thus Mu Heun christened it with satisfied certainty: the Qiyuan Nose.
“By the way, if this isn’t a family heirloom of Master Hwang’s, what exactly is it?”
Hwang Yaksang’s expression soured.
It wasn’t Mu Heun’s fault for asking.
“Last night, some blood-soaked warrior came to my shop just as I was about to lock up.”
“A blood-soaked warrior?”
“Yes indeed—the smell of blood was so overwhelming, I nearly stayed up all night washing it away.”
Hwang Yaksang shook his head in exasperation.
“In any case, that warrior came toward me clutching all manner of medicinal herbs for wounds. I thought perhaps he meant to settle his account.”
“And then?”
“But instead of paying, he shoved this box at me and said, ‘Keep it safe,’ then left without another word! Can you believe it?”
As the memory of that moment flooded back, Hwang Yaksang’s indignation gave way to a weary sigh.
“Yet what could an old man like me say to a warrior? I simply accepted it. Still, I didn’t want to look at it, so I tucked it away in that corner.”
“My, that must have caused you considerable distress.”
“Ah, thank you. If all warriors were like the Jeol Family, I’d be content! Otherwise, one grows too fearful to keep such a business running long.”
Mu Heun let out a soft laugh at Hwang Yaksang’s complaints.
“Yet here you are, managing a medicinal herb shop for three generations in this very spot.”
“It ends with me. My son says he’d rather study and enter civil service than run an herb shop. What can a father do but let him choose his own path?”
“Might you not take an apprentice? Hubei’s finest medicinal herb merchant—surely you could attract disciples.”
“Ha, it’s because someone speaks to me as kindly as a sage that I still cling to this work.”
Mu Heun smiled warmly at Hwang Yaksang’s reply and turned his attention to the wooden box.
To anyone’s eye, it was merely an old, worn wooden box.
But through Mu Heun’s perception—through the Qiyuan Nose—the sight was altogether different.
The box emanated a deep crimson vapor as thick as blood itself.
The fragrance that cleared the mind was so intense that without focus, one might lose all sense and become a fool.
It hadn’t appeared yesterday, yet today—from the very entrance of the Street Market—this scent had drawn Mu Heun forward.
The reason he’d come to the herb shop was to follow this fragrance.
‘…At this level, comparable to century-old Ho-shou Wu, or perhaps even greater…?’
Its red hue confirmed that whatever lay inside was an object, not medicine.
“Master Hwang, have you opened the box by any chance?”
“Oh yes, I was curious enough to try. But there’s nothing special inside, really.”
“Nothing special… Would you permit me to open it?”
“Of course, no trouble at all.”
Mu Heun carefully lifted the lid.
Since Hwang Yaksang had already opened it, there could be no hidden mechanisms within.
Creak—
As Mu Heun opened the box, the intense fragrance and crimson vapor dispersed like mist, revealing what lay inside.
“As you can see, it’s merely an ordinary wooden branch. The only peculiarity is that it’s quite old and rather thick.”
Indeed, just as Hwang Yaksang described it, the box contained an ancient wooden branch roughly two hand-spans in length and as thick as two finger joints.
“I see.”
Yet Mu Heun recognized it at once.
‘A hilt… Judging by the way the balance is designed symmetrically, it’s not a staff. This is the hilt of a sword.’
Having gathered vast knowledge in service to the Murim Alliance, Mu Heun possessed deep insight into weapons and armor.
And viewing it through such discerning eyes—
‘At least two centuries old, or so it seems. And with this level of balance… it must have been the hilt of an extraordinary Treasure Sword.’
Beyond Mu Heun’s own expertise, the blood-deep crimson hue and its fragrance bore this out.
‘Yet a blood-soaked warrior left this here and departed…’
It could mean one of two things.
Either he was fleeing with stolen goods, being pursued.
Or he was keeping it safe from those who sought to steal it.
‘A curious affair.’
There was no record of any Treasure Sword theft occurring around this time in Mu Heun’s memory.
For nearly fifty years since becoming the Military Strategist of the Murim Alliance, Mu Heun had carefully examined every incident that occurred.
And he possessed Perfect Memory.
That it didn’t exist in Mu Heun’s memories meant, at the very least, it wasn’t something that had occurred within a major martial sect worthy of possessing a treasure sword.
‘If it were a martial art passed down through a single lineage….’
There were a few martial arts that nagged at him, but for now there existed something far more pressing.
That was Hwang Yaksang’s safety.
Whether those seeking the box or that martial artist himself—either way, it was clear they would inevitably find this package and come to the herbalist’s shop.
And what they might do to Hwang Yaksang to silence him was painfully obvious.
Mu Heun lifted his head and gazed steadily at Hwang Yaksang’s face.
“Hmm…? Is there something on my face?”
Mu Heun recalled the complaints his servant had made in his previous life.
-Since Old Hwang stopped running the herbalist shop, it’s become so hard to find medicine for this young master.
At the time, he’d simply let it pass.
Besides, back then Mu Heun hadn’t been able to go outside anyway, and it hadn’t been long since Ran had quit under the excuse of overwork.
He’d assumed the same had happened to Hwang Yaksang. So he’d let it go.
‘Did he choose to stop working? Or was he forced to?’
The answer had effectively been determined the moment he saw this box.
Mu Heun nodded slowly and opened his mouth.
“Hwang, you are my life’s benefactor.”
At Mu Heun’s sudden words, Hwang Yaksang started with a gasp.
“W-what are you suddenly saying? How could I possibly….”
“Ever since the moment I was born, haven’t the herbs for my medicinal broths mostly been purchased from this place?”
Hwang Yaksang waved his hands in protest.
“Oh my! Oh my! No, no! I only sold common herbs—the precious medicines came from the Jeol Family, didn’t they?”
“Without those herbs, the broth cannot be made. How could you not be my benefactor?”
As Mu Heun spoke, he laughed with a bitter edge.
‘Yes, I have had so many benefactors. I remembered them all, yet in my past life I failed to repay them.’
Hwang Yaksang, unaware of Mu Heun’s inner thoughts, continued in a flustered tone.
“Ah, well, I simply sold goods for coin. How could I accept such extravagant praise….”
“If you sold me herbs for coin, then I too must repay the debt of kindness.”
Mu Heun’s expression grew serious.
“That martial artist will surely come looking for that box—it’s far too important to him. And even if you don’t know what it is, he may try to silence you.”
At these words, Hwang Yaksang’s face went rigid as though he’d been struck by lightning.
“M-me? Why would he? I only took it in for safekeeping….”
“It’s only a possibility, but that doesn’t mean I can simply ignore it.”
“B-but what about me? My son still has only his studies—he’s not yet independent. If something happens to me….”
Even faced with such danger, his concern for his child came first.
At the heart of a father’s love, Mu Heun found himself smiling without quite meaning to.
Mu Heun drew from his robes the Panguan Brush, the symbol of the Jeol Family.
It was something every member of the Jeol Family was meant to carry at all times.
“I will create an Array Formation for your shop.”
“…Pardon?”
Hwang Yaksang’s mouth fell open at these words.
“A-an Array Formation of the Jeol Family? One that wouldn’t be given for a thousand gold pieces? For me? C-can that really be…? I’m not sure I deserve….”
“There’s no matter of deserving when it comes to setting an Array Formation. And didn’t I just tell you? I said I would repay the debt. I wonder if this is even enough….”
“N-no! That can’t be! This is far too generous!”
“Then it’s settled.”
Mu Heun smiled lightly and focused on composing the Array Formation.
‘I don’t know the opponent’s level. If that’s the case, I need the strongest defense possible… no, mere defense won’t suffice.’
Mu Heun pondered briefly, then drew the Array Formation on the shop floor in one fluid, sweeping motion.
At that elegant brushwork, Hwang Yaksang lost himself, his gaze fixed on the tip of Mu Heun’s Panguan Brush.
Though Hwang Yaksang couldn’t know it, what he was witnessing in this design process held value far beyond a mere Array Formation of the Jeol Family.
The Murim Alliance’s Military Strategist, who had earned the reputation of being the greatest Array Formation designer since the founder Jeol Wuhu himself, and who had even fought in wars against imperial palaces.
An Array Formation drawn with sincerity by Jeol Mu Heun.
After a full hour had passed, Mu Heun exhaled lightly and straightened up.
“Cough! Ah, this should be sufficient.”
“A-are you well…? Would you like some water…?”
Hwang Yaksang regarded Mu Heun with eyes that mingled gratitude and concern as he let out a small cough.
“I’m fine. Thanks to your medicines, I’ve grown quite robust lately.”
“Ah… well, I’m truly relieved!”
Though the greatest reason was the Tianshan Consecutive Force, surely the medicine’s effects were not without merit.
Mu Heun straightened from his bow and drew a small slip of paper from his robe.
Unlike the array formation he had just inscribed, this time Mu Heun brushed the Panguan Brush several times across the paper, then nodded with satisfaction.
“If any problem arises with this array formation, word will reach me through this paper. Then the warriors of my main household can arrive at once.”
Mu Heun nodded and regarded Hwang Yaksang with a gentle expression.
“I wish for your continued prosperity. I should be going now—my servants are waiting outside.”
As Mu Heun gave a light bow, Hwang Yaksang started in alarm and prostrated himself before the young man.
“Goodness! Thank you so much! How can I ever repay such a debt?”
“It is nothing.”
Mu Heun helped Hwang Yaksang to his feet and patted his shoulder lightly.
“If you wish to show your gratitude, continue selling medicinal herbs as diligently as you do now—honestly, without deceiving anyone. The life you have lived as Master Hwang, one of integrity…”
Mu Heun walked slowly out of the shop as he finished speaking.
“…that life itself created the grace you think you have received today.”
Mu Heun stepped outside the apothecary, listening to the moved words of thanks from Hwang Yaksang.
Outside, the servants who had been waiting for Mu Heun stood in a line.
Among them was Yeon, the youngest servant who had taken the place left by Ran’s departure, and she was pouting with displeasure.
“Ugh… my legs hurt from standing so long. I wonder what this young master is doing in there…”
Seonhwa, the eldest among the servants, tried to soothe her.
“Yeon, dear. That is simply the work of a servant. Why must you complain so?”
“But still….”
“Forgive me—have I kept you waiting too long?”
At the sound of Mu Heun’s voice, Yeon and Seonhwa started in surprise, gasping aloud.
“I, I’m so sorry! Young Master! I made such a terrible mistake—”
“Please forgive us, Young Master. The fault lies with my poor instruction. If you must punish someone, let it be me—”
Faced with the frightened reactions of his servants, Mu Heun laughed awkwardly.
“No, no. I was indeed late, was I not? Especially since Yeon has only just turned ten, as far as I know. It is understandable.”
Mu Heun knelt down to meet the eyes of the still-small Yeon.
“Yeon, I want to apologize. Would you like to have a Dangholo as a peace offering?”
“A, a Dangholo? Really? Truly? Oh, how wonderful!”
Yeon’s pout dissolved into a beaming smile at the mere mention of the sweet treat.
She was so delighted she began humming a little tune, and Mu Heun smiled warmly at the sight.
“Seonhwa, Hwaryeong, Moyeon—you three will have one too, yes?”
The other three servants could not bring themselves to refuse, but they hesitated, uncertain of his intentions.
It was Hwaryeong, the second-youngest, who found the courage to speak.
“I, I would like the apple flavor….”
“Hwaryeong!”
Seonhwa tried to give her a warning look, but Mu Heun was quicker.
“Hwaryeong wants apple. And what of the rest of you?”
Faced with Mu Heun’s warm smile, even Seonhwa soon declared her own preferred flavor.
Mu Heun and the four servants, each holding a Dangholo in a different flavor, made their way back to the Jeol Family estate.
Mu Heun watched Yeon eat her sweet treat slowly and carefully, smiled softly, and then his mind drifted back to the wooden branch he had just seen.
‘…Whose weapon was it? Which martial sect did its owner belong to?’
A treasure sword that even Mu Heun had never laid eyes upon before?
It was certainly intriguing.
Yet he had chosen not to take it with him.
It was for Hwang Yaksang’s sake.
Who could say? Perhaps if he simply returned it, it would remain with its owner.
‘Though the likelihood of that is slim.’
He had wished for continued prosperity, and he genuinely hoped nothing ill would befall the apothecary.
Yet Mu Heun was nearly certain that those connected to the weapon would attack the medicinal shop.
Considering how Hwang Yaksang’s pharmacy had suddenly closed its doors in his previous life, the signs were clear.
‘But this time, Master Hwang will not disappear.’
With that resolve, Mu Heun returned to the Jeol Family estate.
***
That evening.
“The Murim Alliance Leader, Namgung Cheon, has arrived!”
A thick, steel-like hand descended upon the gatekeeper’s shoulder.
“Heh-heh-heh! Do you mean to announce it to the entire neighborhood? I’ve only come for a cup of wine with an old friend!”
“Father’s voice is the loudest thing in this house.”
“Ha-ha! By now you should be accustomed to it, should you not? Sister.”
“Honestly, really….”
Two young scions of the Namgung clan, dressed in noble robes of deep blue silk.
The current Murim Alliance Leader who had walked into the Jeol Family residence alongside them, Namgung Cheon, called out in a hearty voice.
“Cheonseong! I’ve arrived!”

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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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