The Legend of Red Cloud - Chapter 100

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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 100. The Missing Scroll Painting
A Food Guest.
In everyday speech, it refers to a visitor who lodges at someone’s house and eats their meals; but in the martial sects of Kangho, the term took on a meaning closer to a long-term contract warrior.
Naturally, these were people whose abilities had been proven.
There was no reason for a martial house to spend considerable money housing someone who hadn’t proven themselves.
In that light, the capabilities of Gyeongcheon Chu-gwi, a Food Guest of the Cheonmyeong Namun, were readily apparent.
It was he who now stood at the core of the trackers the Cheonmyeong Namun had deployed to find the daughter of Mun Chang-so.
Yet even Gyeongcheon Chu-gwi, whose Tracking Art was said to astound the heavens, had been unable to uncover any trace of the true culprit.
“Are you telling me you’ve found no trace at all?”
At Nam On’s sharp inquiry, Gyeongcheon Chu-gwi bowed his head in discomfort.
“Forgive me, Patriarch. Too much time has elapsed. There are no traces, and scarcely a single witness remains. Few even remember what transpired on the day of the abduction itself. Under such circumstances, I find it…”
“If information were so abundant, there would be no need for a tracking specialist at all. And I’d have had no reason to summon you.”
At Nam On’s irritated remark, Gyeongcheon Chu-gwi bowed again.
“My apologies.”
“Just bowing your head won’t solve anything! What use is such a worthless courtesy!”
Nam On’s rebuke was savage.
Gyeongcheon Chu-gwi knew his superior was not ordinarily so sharp; he understood well the source of Nam On’s frayed nerves.
The Patriarch of Cheonmyeong Namun had ordered Nam On to recruit the man known as Ryu—the one rumored to have defeated Yucheon Chu-hon—by whatever means necessary.
In recent days, Cheonmyeong Namun had come under intense pressure.
In the southern reaches of Haenam, where Cheonmyeong Namun held dominion, a sect called Jeong Hae Geom-ga had been gathering strength.
Jeong Hae Geom-ga was a sect founded centuries ago by an officer of the Haenam Geom-mun.
It had suffered near-total annihilation in the Haenam Great War, a catastrophic clash that occurred a hundred years prior, and had sealed its gates—yet recently, it had reopened and begun to stir.
Though its power remained inferior to Cheonmyeong Namun, there had come word recently that the Crescent Moon Sword Emperor had visited Jeong Hae Geom-ga.
Connections were a fearsome thing.
Immediately, rumors spread that Jeong Hae Geom-ga had been revived with support from the Haenam Geom-mun.
Upon hearing these rumors, merchants of southern Haenam severed their ties with Cheonmyeong Namun and turned instead toward Jeong Hae Geom-ga.
They could not ignore the deep traditional bonds that had long been rooted between these families.
After all, a century ago, the sons of countless merchant houses in southern Haenam had taken wives from Jeong Hae Geom-ga, and many daughters of these merchant families had married into the sect.
Those bloodlines still ran deep, binding Jeong Hae Geom-ga to the merchant houses of southern Haenam.
As a sect of Haenam that had to heed the Haenam Geom-mun’s gaze, Cheonmyeong Namun could not fault the merchants’ voluntary choice.
The problem was that the loss of profit resulting from this shift was far greater than anticipated.
Cheonmyeong Namun’s revenue structure was deteriorating by the day.
With warnings that such deterioration could prove dangerous, voices within Cheonmyeong Namun had begun to insist that regardless of what the Haenam Geom-mun said, the sect must uproot Jeong Hae Geom-ga before it grew too strong.
The argument that they were sister sects of Haenam, or members of the Baek Ui Ryeon, offered no shield in these chaotic times.
The leadership of Cheonmyeong Namun, well aware of this, had begun to embrace such reasoning.
The problem lay with the will of Haenam Geom-mun.
The Baek Ui Ryeon had begun openly supporting the Cheol Hyeol Maeng in its war against Gunma Rim.
Martial warriors were being recruited in great numbers and sent forth to the battlefields against Gunma Rim.
It was becoming an age in which capable warriors were desperately needed in vast quantities.
Naturally, the Haenam Geom-mun, the central sect of the Baek Ui Ryeon, had no choice but to favor whichever sect held the greater number of useful masters.
In a chaotic era, power was paramount above all else.
Should Cheonmyeong Namun and Jeong Hae Geom-ga come to blows, the Haenam Geom-mun would almost certainly throw its support behind whichever side possessed the more skilled masters.
Thus had Cheonmyeong Namun sought to draw the man called Ryu, rumored to have defeated Yucheon Chu-hon, into its ranks.
With two Peak Masters, even Jeong Hae Geom-ga—founded as it had been by an officer of the Haenam Geom-mun itself—could not hope to turn the tide against Cheonmyeong Namun.
The task entrusted to Nam On was therefore no mere expansion of Cheonmyeong Namun’s martial strength, but something that could well determine the sect’s very fate.
Understanding the weight upon Nam On’s shoulders, Gyeongcheon Chu-gwi spoke carefully.
“There is… I cannot say whether it will be of any help, but…”
“What is it? You’ve found something?”
Nam On’s eyes brightened at once, and Gyeongcheon Chu-gwi continued.
“While investigating the Mun household, we discovered traces of a theft.”
“A theft?”
“Yes. It appears the Mun household itself was unaware of it.”
“What was stolen?”
“A painting, it seems. From what remains, it appears to have been a scroll painting, but the household’s reaction was lukewarm—it did not appear to be something they regarded as particularly valuable…”
“You’re suggesting this might be connected to the culprit?”
Nam On leaned forward intently as he spoke, and Gyeongcheon Chu-gwi replied hesitantly.
“That… I cannot say with certainty.”
“Cannot say with certainty? That means there could be a connection, doesn’t it?”
“It… seems unlikely, though…”
As Nam On’s eyes narrowed coldly at this equivocation, Gyeongcheon Chu-gwi bowed his head once more.
“My apologies. I merely wondered if there might be something you wished to discuss regarding Mun Chang-so’s household…….”
“So you didn’t find the real culprit, but you did find a thief in your own house. Just tell me that much, will you!”
“I beg your pardon.”
Nam On’s frigid voice fell upon Gyeongcheon Chu-gwi, who bowed deeply.
“If you’ve nothing but nonsense to offer, then get out!”
Stung by Nam On’s rebuke, Gyeongcheon Chu-gwi withdrew without another word, his expression cowed.
***
While Cheonmyeong Namun, centered on Nam On, had yielded no substantial results, the Yucheon Cheol-ga, under Yucheon Chu-hon’s direct command, was floundering completely.
Though Yucheon Chu-hon’s daily tirades and the masters of the Yucheon Cheol-ga, including Wi Hae-sam-chu, made constant noise about hunting the culprit, their hands remained empty.
It was to explain this failure that Yucheon Chu-hon came to the guest quarters.
“So you found nothing at all, is that it?”
“Yes, that is… yes, it is so.”
Jeok Sa, who had been staring intently at the nodding Yucheon Chu-hon, posed a question.
“But why come here to report it to me?”
“Report? You wretched… ah, yes. Report. You’re right. It seemed only natural that you should know…….”
Yucheon Chu-hon’s expression twisted as if he might lunge forward at any moment, but his eyes grew dim.
Though Jeok Sa’s eye for such things was hardly keen, it was plain enough even to him that Yucheon Chu-hon was not reading his mood—something else was at work.
“What is it? What is making you so cautious with me?”
“It is…….”
Seeing Yucheon Chu-hon open his mouth as if to speak, then close it again, Jeok Sa guessed his suspicion was correct and asked.
“Are you being threatened by Jeok Sa somehow?”
“Jeok Sa?”
Yucheon Chu-hon’s expression suggested he found this a non sequitur, and Jeok Sa hastened to clarify.
“The person who saved me.”
The moment he spoke those words, Yucheon Chu-hon’s gaze, which had been turning toward Yun Yeo-ok, who sat behind Jeok Sa, trembled violently.
A sharp telepathic message had arrived from Yun Yeo-ok: one more careless glance and she would pluck his eyes out.
“Ah… yes. That is correct.”
Jeok Sa, confirming his suspicion was right, nodded and asked.
“Is this person famous?”
“Probably… not at all.”
If someone of Yucheon Chu-hon’s caliber was trembling with such fear over someone unknown, it could only mean a Recluse Master of earth-shaking ability.
Jeok Sa could not fathom why such a master would aid him, nor why they would conceal their identity.
Understanding at least why Yucheon Chu-hon had adopted this submissive posture, Jeok Sa’s own expression eased somewhat as he asked.
“In any case, finding nothing at all is troublesome.”
“It certainly is. Maddening, even.”
Yucheon Chu-hon, having let his speech drop its formal register, was forced to hastily add a follow-up when Yun Yeo-ok’s telepathic jab arrived: ‘What, do you think you’re speaking to your husband?’
“…Rather, a difficult matter.”
Inwardly, of course, he was grumbling: ‘Husband? That’s rich. We haven’t even held hands.’ But he kept that to himself.
As if reading his thoughts, Yucheon Chu-hon felt Yun Yeo-ok’s sharp gaze prick at him and hastily changed the subject.
“Still, that mongrel hound brought in by Cheonmyeong Namun did seem to catch a scent of something.”
“You found a clue?”
Jeok Sa, whose blood was running dry as the hundred days received from Hyeol Yeong Ma-jon dwindled daily, showed a flash of hope. But Yucheon Chu-hon shook his head.
“Nothing certain. The creature won’t say a word.”
Rising from his seat at Yucheon Chu-hon’s words, Jeok Sa moved toward the door.
He could not simply sit idle waiting for speech that would not come.
He had to find his kidnapped daughter swiftly, undo the betrothal, and return to Hyeol Yeong Ma-jon. The matter was urgent.
If the hundred days elapsed, he could not guarantee the safety of Dong Pil, who was in Gunma Rim’s grasp.
As Jeok Sa left the room searching for any thread of a clue in Yucheon Chu-hon’s words, he collided with Gyeongcheon Chu-gwi just emerging from Nam On’s quarters after being rebuked.
Knowing that the one Yucheon Chu-hon had called “that mongrel” was this man, Jeok Sa called out to him.
“Might you have a moment to speak with me?”
A tracker prizes above all the ability to read people.
In a profession spent pursuing quarry, one never knows when, where, or whom they will encounter.
A moment’s poor judgment can mean not merely failure, but death itself.
Thus, the mark of a skilled tracker is the capacity to size up a stranger in an instant and respond accordingly.
In that regard, Gyeongcheon Chu-gwi recognized at once the man whom even Nam On had never properly met—Jeok Sa.
After all, he had heard of only one master in Kangho who carried three blades at once: Hae Dong-gwi.
“Yes, speak freely, great one.”
“I hear you have found something?”
Recognizing Yucheon Chu-hon following in Jeok Sa’s wake, Gyeongcheon Chu-gwi guessed the source of that information and answered freely.
“Yes. Though what was found bears little connection to the culprit you seek…….”
“It doesn’t matter what it is—even if the possibility is slim, it’s still better than nothing at all.”
Gyeongcheon Chu-gwi’s eyes brightened at Jeok Sa’s words.
For a tracker, someone who spoke like this was the most welcome person in the world.
Someone grateful for even the smallest thing found, someone who treasured it.
And so Gyeongcheon Chu-gwi began to explain in detail what he had discovered.
***
In truth, the item that had disappeared was so trivial that the Mun family would never have noticed the theft if Gyeongcheon Chu-gwi hadn’t pointed it out.
What vanished was a single scroll painting that had been passed down through the Mun family for generations, yet despite the weight of its history, the story it contained was utterly unremarkable.
It was a painting whose artist was unknown, whose provenance was unclear, and whose purpose for preservation had been forgotten.
Neither beautiful nor particularly skillful, it had never been considered valuable at all.
It hung in the ancestral shrine only because it was a family heirloom, treated with the reverence due to those passed down through the generations.
And then it was gone.
According to So Cheong-jin’s account when Jeok Sa inquired, the painting depicted a hermit standing before a mountain waterfall—nothing of particular importance or significance.
Jeok Sa considered this for a moment before turning to Gyeongcheon Chu-gwi.
“Can you find traces of who took it?”
“So much time has passed, it will be difficult……. But a thief always has a reason for stealing. Unless he meant to hang it in his own privy, he’ll try to move it through channels. If I trace that path, I can find him.”
“Will you search for him with me?”
“That shouldn’t be too difficult…….”
“I’m asking for your help.”
At Jeok Sa’s quite formal Clasped Fist Salute, Gyeongcheon Chu-gwi hastily returned the gesture.
“Gyeongcheon Chu-gwi, also known as Go Ho-gyeong, will gladly accept the Great Master’s request and search this out.”
These days in Haenam’s martial world, Jeok Sa too was called the Haedong Ghost.
It had happened naturally—when the previous Haedong Ghost, whom Hyeol Yeong Ma-jon had impersonated and whom Jeok Sa was forced to claim as his father, died, word had spread.
Hae Mil Mun, having caught wind of this, sold the information to various sects demanding details about Jeok Sa—that he was the son of the dead Haedong Ghost.
And with it came an assessment that clung like a shadow: he had defeated Yucheon Chu-hon.
Indeed, a rumor had spread widely that since Nam On arrived at the Mun family, no internal energy had been felt from Jeok Sa.
But the fact that Yucheon Chu-hon had been defeated never changed.
It was something Yucheon Chu-hon himself had acknowledged before the eyes of the Mun family.
For this and many other reasons, everyone—Nam On included—assumed Jeok Sa must possess some hidden technique to compensate for the lack of internal energy.
Otherwise, Yucheon Chu-hon could never have been defeated.
These accumulated reasons led them to believe that Jeok Sa had inherited the epithet Haedong Ghost from his late father—who was in fact very much alive as Hyeol Yeong Ma-jon.
It was Hae Mil Mun who had fueled this misunderstanding.
Because of them, Haenam had lately taken to calling Jeok Sa by that name.
Knowing this, Jeok Sa could only smile wryly at Gyeongcheon Chu-gwi’s use of the title.
He had tried denying it countless times, but it never took root.
As Gyeongcheon Chu-gwi left with that bitter smile lingering behind him, Jeok Sa’s waiting began anew.
With nothing else to do while waiting for Gyeongcheon Chu-gwi, Jeok Sa threw himself relentlessly into Wind Practice.
Should problems with his internal energy arise later, he was determined to have a contingency—and he was investing considerable effort into it.
Yun Yeo-ok, unaware of Jeok Sa’s true intentions, felt troubled watching him devote himself so thoroughly to Wind Practice.
She had mistaken his uninjured state after the clash with Yucheon Chu-hon as a result of that very practice.
Seeing him labor at what seemed futile made her wonder if she should reveal the truth—but doing so would expose her identity.
Yet no matter how she looked at it, Jeok Sa’s nature seemed such that if he knew the truth, he would keep her at arm’s length forever.
So…….
‘I’m sorry.’
Yun Yeo-ok could not speak.

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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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