The Youngest Son of the Nanyang Jin Family - Chapter 368

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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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The Youngest Son of the Jin Family of Luoyang – Chapter 368

The Ghostwail Gorge, known even in Sichuan as a forbidden place shrouded in mystery, bore a landscape as if the very earth had screamed and split asunder.
The massive canyon overwhelmed those who beheld it from afar, and the stagnant air sinking beneath the cliffs, coupled with the faint mist that clung to everything, made one acutely aware of nature’s grandeur.
Once one’s feet crossed the threshold into the gorge, the landscape transformed into something far more peculiar.
The cliff faces that rose on either side were not rough surfaces worn smooth by wind and rain.
As if countless swords wielded by some unknown hand had scraped across them, the stone had been carved away with seamless precision, devoid of any natural grain.
The walls were so smooth that one might believe them to be the handiwork of a Sword Deity’s single, devastating stroke—and the oppressive aura they emanated upon those who gazed upon them was beyond words.
Yet what truly rendered the Ghostwail Gorge sinister was the sound.
The wind that seeped through the narrow crevices between the canyon walls scraped and coiled around the cliffs, producing an eerie resonance.
A low, sobbing tremor and a lingering echo that stretched like a prolonged sigh.
At times, one could hear something akin to the death wail of one who had hanged themselves, carried upon the currents of wind.
Though it was merely the sound born of wind, the melody that pierced the hearts of those who heard it bore an uncanny resemblance to a human voice.
It felt as though the restless spirits of the dead, unable to depart, had borrowed the form of the wind itself—and this was precisely why the name “Ghostwail Gorge” had come to fit so naturally.
All who had heard that sound even once felt their spines turn cold, and from some point onward, the Ghostwail Gorge had transformed from a place of exploration into a forbidden canyon that people shunned.
Even now, sunlight scarcely reached its deepest recesses, and only the wind, carrying its haunting song, wandered through the gorge.
“Have you perhaps been there before, sir?”
As I rode forward, lost in such contemplation, Yeon-un’s voice drew near, speaking hesitantly.
His eyes sparkled with a mixture of unease and barely contained excitement at the prospect of seeing the Ghostwail Gorge.
“I’ve heard much of it, but I’ve never actually been. In truth, it’s not particularly special.”
“But it’s incredibly famous, isn’t it! People even say there’s a gateway to hell there—or perhaps there isn’t!”
At Yeon-un’s words, I offered a bitter smile.
As he said, many regarded the Ghostwail Gorge as a gateway to hell itself.
The sinister aura it emanated certainly inspired such eerie imaginings.
Yet conversely, many believed it to be the entrance to something hidden by a legendary martial master, and for a long time, countless seekers of fortune had attempted to breach its mysteries.
But what had they found?
Nothing.
Though the place was ancient beyond reckoning, no one had ever obtained anything of significance from within it.
At most, they had merely discovered what lay beyond the Ghostwail Gorge.
“Are we perhaps also going to the Black Plum Forest?”
“It seems… we likely are.”
I observed Dang Cheon-ro, who rode ahead of us.
As we drew closer to the Ghostwail Gorge, his expression grew increasingly grim. Despite his mastery of poisons, the yin energy emanating from that place seemed to unsettle him profoundly.
I shared his sentiment entirely.
I lifted my gaze to the distant Ghostwail Gorge visible before us. The sight of the massive cliffs split asunder on either side was majestic enough to inspire awe merely by looking upon it.
Yet simultaneously, a chilling yin energy could be felt even from this distance.
“Indeed… this is precisely the sort of place where those creatures would dwell.”
I narrowed my brow.
The moment I beheld the Ghostwail Gorge, my thoughts turned to Mount Taeok.
That sensation I had felt within the massive blood aura.
While not entirely identical, the subtle similarities were unmistakable, and I began to understand why Dang Cheon-ro had sought out this place.
Then what could be hidden here?
I furrowed my brow and urged my horse forward at a faster pace.
As the distance between Dang Cheon-ro and myself narrowed, and I drew alongside him, only then did his gaze turn toward me.
“What troubles your mind?”
“I am curious about your reasons for suspecting Guihwagok.”
“Ha, well, it’s nothing much. It came about when the two sect masters and I put our heads together.”
Myeong Jeong, Cheong Do-sang, and Dang Cheon-ro.
These three were the foremost experts representing Sichuan.
Yet being powerful experts alone did not grant such deductions—they must have grasped some clue, however small.
As I stared intently at Dang Cheon-ro, he let out a hollow laugh.
“A person died. It was far from Guihwagok.”
“And what bearing does that have on this place?”
“The rumors spread from certain locations, gradually descending lower, and the last place where the rumors ceased was where the corpse was discovered. And if you trace the path, at its end lies… Guihwagok.”
“So in the end, this is merely speculation.”
At those words, Dang Cheon-ro nodded.
It was simple speculation, but enough to mobilize their forces.
Whether they were Demon Sect disciples or not.
The most suspicious places must always be thoroughly investigated without exception.
“Is something hidden within Guihwagok?”
“It is quiet now, but those who favor fortune opportunities still frequent this place often. Even if something existed, would it not have disappeared by now?”
“Then there are no legends surrounding it?”
“Legends? Ha, it seems you fancy such tales. But I’m afraid I cannot help you—I have never heard of such stories.”
Dang Cheon-ro shook his head.
If the Family Head of the Dang clan, who had protected Sichuan for hundreds of years, affirmed it thus, then surely no tales were entangled with Guihwagok and the Black Hawk Forest.
Yet strangely, upon hearing his affirmation, my brow furrowed deeper.
For some reason, the suspicious scent grew even stronger.
“Oh, we have arrived last.”
At that moment, Dang Cheon-ro clicked his tongue while gazing toward something.
Following his gaze naturally, I could see a large tent erected in what appeared to be a wide clearing, with men and women gathered closely together.
One side was Emei, the other was Qingcheng.
As if a line had been drawn between them, they did not venture into the other’s territory, and subtle signs of mutual vigilance were evident.
Unlike Huashan and Songshan, who gnashed their teeth at one another, a delicate current of tension flowed between them—this much was abundantly clear.
And beyond that, the Dang clan of Sichuan.
As we appeared, all eyes converged upon us.
The gazes of men and women alike poured down with such intensity that it was deeply uncomfortable.
“The Dang clan appears quite popular.”
“The reputation as hegemon of Sichuan was not earned lightly. Moreover…”
Dang Cheon-ro glanced back to confirm Namgung Yeon following behind, then turned his gaze back to me with a composed expression and a faint smile playing at his lips.
“Isn’t this destined to become the greatest family under heaven?”
At his weighty words, Namgung Yeon flinched and looked toward Dang Cheon-ro. Though his expression and gaze appeared calm, the fierce sparks flying between the two men were no illusion.
I subtly shifted my horse to block their line of sight.
“Bloodstains and staring contests aside, perhaps you should look ahead. Someone approaches.”
“Haha, bloodstains… how amusing.”
Dang Cheon-ro laughed and withdrew his gaze.
Soon, his expression transformed completely.
The somewhat bold and lighthearted gleam in his eyes and expression vanished without a trace, replaced by a grave countenance and sharp, piercing eyes as he brought his horse to a halt.
As he dismounted, everyone followed suit and bowed respectfully toward the two approaching figures.
It was then that Dang Cheon-ro’s voice emerged.
“My apologies, honored guests. Matters delayed me somewhat.”
He spoke carefully, as if ashamed, offering placating words, yet they paid no heed and simply nodded before turning their gaze toward me.
As if I were far more intriguing than Dang Cheon-ro himself.
I stepped forward lightly and clasped my fist in salute.
“It is my honor to meet you, Masters. I am Cheon-u of the Jin Family.”
“You are… of the Jin Family of Luoyang?”
“The one who slew the Sword Emperor…?”
At the words of Myeong Jeong and Cheong Do-sang, I saw those watching me widen their eyes in surprise.
It was only natural—the greatest sensation in the current martial world stood before them.
A faint smile played at my lips.
“During my travels through Sichuan, I encountered the Family Head of the Dang clan and have been traveling together. I hope this causes no inconvenience.”
“Hoho— how delightful to meet someone of such renown. In truth, this humble nun has been most curious. Who exactly… could have slain the Sword Emperor?”
Myeong Jeong smiled, yet her eyes did not.
From beginning to end, she scrutinized me thoroughly.
As if unwilling to overlook the smallest detail.
Cheong Do-sang of Qingcheng was no different.
Knowing that the realm I had reached at such a young age defied explanation, suspicion lingered—perhaps I had cultivated dark techniques or demonic arts.
Without such an explanation, it would be difficult to comprehend.
I met their scrutiny calmly and smiled lightly.
“It was fortune that made it possible. Moreover, he appeared to still bear unhealed wounds from the Alliance Leader.”
“Even so, it remains remarkable.”
Cheong Do-sang gave a bitter smile and shook his head.
Both wore expressions as if tasting something bitter, for none but myself knew whether the Sword Emperor’s internal injuries had truly healed.
Yet such rumors circulated, and most believed them to align with truth.
Only by accepting that such a feat required exploiting a fatal opening could their understanding of the situation remain intact.
I glanced subtly toward Dang Cheon-ro.
While he observed the situation with interest, he cast a scornful smile toward Myeong Jeong and Cheong Do-sang, who remained inwardly vigilant.
Their undisguised emotions toward a junior decades their junior seemed quite amusing to him.
Yet this could not continue indefinitely.
Dang Cheon-ro concealed his expression and opened his mouth once more.
“Did you perhaps find something?”
“Nothing. At most, just some beast tracks.”
“I found the same. No matter how thoroughly I searched, I could not discover any traces of Demon Sect disciples. Amitabha.”
Cheong Do-sang and Myeong Jeong spoke in unison, their gazes fixed upon me.
This situation had undoubtedly arisen because of my words.
I nodded at their expectant looks.
“As I mentioned, all I know is what the Demon King said. That Demon Sect disciples are in Sichuan.”
I regarded the three of them.
Dang Cheon-ro still appeared unconcerned, but Myeong Jeong and Cheong Do-sang did not.
They had come to the most suspicious location and searched thoroughly, yet nothing had emerged. Perhaps they believed my words were mere nonsense.
There was an unspoken hope that I would bear all responsibility and resolve this situation.
“Is that Guihua Gorge?”
I walked forward, brushing past the others.
Guihua Gorge, visible in the distance.
As I took in the sight of the massive chasm, I felt a cool breeze flowing toward us.
That wind was better described as eerie than merely cold, and it seemed more accurate to say it cut across my body like a wielded blade rather than blow fiercely.
“Have you examined inside?”
“Not yet. We planned to move once the Family Head of the Dang clan arrives.”
I nodded at Cheong Do-sang’s words and stepped forward.
Thud, thud—
The moment my footsteps echoed, I heard the sounds of those following behind me as well.
Seol Ha-yeon, Namgung Yeon, Chaeseoha, and Yeon-un, among others.
While everyone else remained in place, we continued walking toward the entrance of the gorge.
It was then that Myeong Jeong’s voice reached me.
“Jin Gongja! Are you planning to enter now?”
“Isn’t that why we came—to verify something? We gathered here believing that place to be the most suspicious, so there seems no reason to delay.”
At my words, Myeong Jeong turned to regard the other two.
Cheong Do-sang furrowed his brow with a reluctant sigh, but Dang Cheon-ro wore an amused expression and snapped his fingers toward his soldiers.
The Dang clan’s warriors hurriedly completed their preparations and moved into position.
Whoooosh—
In that instant, a powerful wind erupted from between the gorge walls.
It engulfed us like a sudden gust.
“Ugh!?”
“Huh—why did the wind suddenly pick up?”
People voiced their confusion at this inexplicable phenomenon.
It was as though warning us not to approach.
As I sensed this and gazed intently at the gorge’s entrance.
“….”
A strangely familiar scene came to mind.
The image carved into the Extreme Demon Scripture.
A painting so bizarre it was impossible to tell whether it depicted a landscape or merely ink strokes.
It resembled the hasty scrawl of a three-year-old child upon paper, yet somehow it bore an uncanny resemblance to the vista unfolding before my eyes.
“This only makes me want to go further.”
I laughed, wiping the dust clinging to the corner of my mouth with my thumb.

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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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