Episode 59. One Fist Splits Mountain
Thinking about it, Blood Flower is currently in an extremely precarious, life-or-death situation.
Failing to assassinate Yong Jo-woon has tarnished his reputation as a Special-Grade Assassin of the Sea Mist Sect.
According to what Jong Bi told me, in the Red Blood Mountain, if an assassin fails a mission, they undergo a harsh investigation, and if the failure is due to their own mistake rather than some unavoidable external factor, they’re punished without mercy.
The Sea Mist Sect probably isn’t much different.
On top of that, he’s currently being held captive. Yong Jo-woon is watching his every move.
To Yong Jo-woon, Blood Flower is a bargaining chip—something he can use to negotiate with either the Sky-Gazing Pavilion or the Clear Water Sect.
If the Sky-Gazing Pavilion finds out Blood Flower has been captured, they might kill him to erase all traces.
In short, Blood Flower has been driven into a corner.
In his situation… he’d be analyzing every word spoken, every footstep, every breath.
If he couldn’t even do that… he never would have become a Special-Grade Assassin in the first place.
Won Seung let out a sigh and decided to be honest.
"Yeah. I’ve learned martial arts too. But honestly, I don’t know how good I really am. That’s why I keep it hidden—afraid I’ll get myself killed if I act recklessly."
"......"
Won Seung brought over some paper and a brush, then began sketching the face of the middle-aged man again.
He showed it to Blood Flower.
"I almost died today when I ran into this guy."
"?"
Blood Flower showed interest.
"I barely managed to escape… Are there always this many masters around? Everyone I meet these days is a master. Are masters supposed to be this common?"
"Of course not."
Blood Flower let out a dry laugh.
Oh, he’s finally talking.
Won Seung seized the chance and continued.
"All the Hundred Great Experts in the Central Plains are Peak Masters, right?"
"Do you even know who’s on that list?"
Blood Flower looked at him with a hint of exasperation.
"Of course not. Who could memorize all that?"
"Exactly. There’s no need to. The list of the Hundred Great Experts changes depending on the region and who’s compiling the Murim Directory."
"Huh?"
"The higher a master’s level, the more they hide their true strength. The real masters don’t care about fame like being on the Hundred Great Experts list. It’s usually the lesser sects that try to use that reputation for their own gain."
"Why does it differ by region?"
"Obviously because everyone thinks their own region is the best. If you ask people from Sichuan, they’ll probably say half the Hundred Great Experts are from there."
"Unbelievable. So it’s that unreliable?"
"It also depends on who publishes the Murim Directory. The one from the Zhuge Clan focuses on whether someone has reached the True Realm, but the one by Manbulja is based on actual combat achievements. Plus, the Orthodox Faction’s directories favor their own masters, while the Black Path lists lean toward their side."
"I see."
Why didn’t the Red Blood Mountain folks ever teach me this stuff?
This kind of practical knowledge is way more useful than sewing or embroidery.
When Poison Master met Won Seung, he’d already been away from Murim for a long time, so he couldn’t share these little details about the world.
Blood Flower’s words sank deep into Won Seung’s mind.
As Won Seung listened intently, Blood Flower, bored from being cooped up alone, even started sharing the real state of masters in Murim.
"The stronger a master is, the less they reveal their skills. So when you actually fight them, a lot turn out to be overrated. It’s the unknown masters who are truly dangerous."
"So Hwa Cheon-gang or Cheon Il-hae could be overrated too?"
"Nine times out of ten… that’s probably the case."
Blood Flower nodded. Won Seung’s ears perked up.
"Why do you say that?"
"They’re the ones using the Hundred Great Experts title to manage the Xiang River. Guys like that are usually all talk."
"I’ve met both, and their presence was no joke, though."
Blood Flower looked at Won Seung thoughtfully.
"What? Again?"
"Of course, by your standards, they’re masters. But when I say ‘overrated,’ I mean whether they’re truly Peak Masters or not."
"Oh…"
Blood Flower glanced at the sketch of the middle-aged man again and asked Won Seung,
"Do you remember the technique he used?"
Won Seung rolled his eyes, trying to recall the man’s moves.
"He dashed at me like a flying tiger, ran up the wall, and leapt over me… He looked like he was about to punch me, but then grabbed my wrist with his other hand."
As Won Seung explained, Blood Flower nodded as if he’d figured something out.
"So he used fist techniques instead of weapons. I’m guessing… it was One Fist Splits Mountain."
"One Fist Splits Mountain?"
"You know about the Five Peaks Martial Arts Tournament that happens every ten years?"
"I’ve heard of it."
"Eight years ago, at the tournament on Mount Tai, the Fist King’s disciple was crippled, which caused quite a stir. I saw it from a distance myself. That guy broke the Fist King’s disciple’s fist and earned the nickname One Fist Splits Mountain."
"Hmm… Eight years ago?"
That would have been when I was eight.
Back then, I was rolling around in the mountains, living through days of despair…
The memories hit Won Seung all at once as he looked over Blood Flower.
Judging by his face, Blood Flower looks like he’s in his early twenties—mid-twenties at most.
Won Seung always wondered about this. When did he become a Special-Grade Assassin?
If he started making a name for himself that early, he must have started assassinating in his early teens… but that can’t be right.
Anyway, eight years ago, Blood Flower must have been in assassin training. Maybe the Sea Mist Sect’s training included attending martial arts tournaments.
No wonder they say the Sea Mist Sect is a cut above Red Blood Mountain—their training is on another level.
I’m curious, but now’s not the time to ask.
He’s only just started opening up. If I ask the wrong question, he might clam up again.
"The nickname One Fist Splits Mountain comes from breaking the Fist King’s Bong Mountain Fist. The Fist King was furious and went into hiding. I haven’t heard of him appearing in Murim since… Looks like he’s been hiding out in Xiangyang."
"The Fist King’s pretty petty, huh? Trying to get revenge over an injury in a martial arts duel. What kind of ‘king’ does that?"
Won Seung grumbled, thinking of the Sword King, who was similarly entangled with the Thousand Poison Sect.
"One Fist Splits Mountain’s fist techniques are incredibly fast and varied—some even call it a supreme art. You’re lucky to have survived. Maybe you’re more skilled than you look?"
"I only survived thanks to poison. If we’d actually fought, I’d have died in three seconds."
As Won Seung rubbed his still-sore neck, Blood Flower gave him a meaningful look.
"There’s no need to downplay yourself. I know you’ve opened your Conception and Governing Vessels."
"What?! Who told you about me? Was it Teacher Song?"
"No. Observation."
"What? Observation?"
Won Seung frowned deeply.
So Blood Flower figured all that out just by watching. That’s a Special-Grade Assassin for you.
"In my opinion, Teacher Song is quite skilled. At his age and level, he’ll be called first-class before long. But you’re even better. Plus, your Solar Acupoint is flat. That means… either you’ve achieved Half-Step Ghostly Return with a single cycle of internal energy, or you’ve opened your Conception and Governing Vessels, causing your Solar Acupoint to settle."
"No way. At my age…"
"In the great sects or powerful families, prodigies like that appear from time to time. They pick out talented late bloomers, feed them all sorts of spiritual medicine, and help them open their Conception and Governing Vessels early. It’s not that rare."
"But I’m not from a great sect or powerful family…"
"You’re just pretending not to be."
Looks like Blood Flower hasn’t figured out my true identity yet.
Won Seung asked, feigning surprise,
"Is it that easy to guess?"
"Try lying under a bed for a few days yourself."
"Ah!"
He must have been grinding his teeth, wondering how to kill the one who put him in this state. That’s why he watched me so closely…
With a pale face, Won Seung asked,
"I saved your life… You’re not planning to kill me to erase all traces, are you?"
"Then tell me who you really are."
"......"
"…You’re from the Tang Clan, aren’t you?"
Ah, so that’s where his reasoning led. Good.
Won Seung shook his head firmly.
"Let’s take our time getting to know each other. All I know is that you’re Blood Flower from the Sea Mist Sect. Let’s wait until we build enough trust to share more."
"Hmph! As if that day will ever come."
Blood Flower snorted.
Won Seung stood up.
Now that he knew the identity of the middle-aged man, he needed to prepare. That guy could be watching him even now.
As Won Seung crossed the yard, he glanced at the tree where Yong Jo-woon had once hidden. The foliage was so thick now, it’d be hard to spot anyone hiding there.
‘I’ll have to trim those branches.’
Won Seung muttered to himself and headed back inside.
*
In fact, just before Won Seung looked at the tree, Cheon Seok-san—One Fist Splits Mountain—had been hiding there.
He wanted nothing more than to kill the brat who’d tricked him, but with Yong Jo-woon inside, he couldn’t.
He waited in the branches for Won Seung to come out, but then noticed Songmyeong heading somewhere.
Cheon Seok-san considered grabbing Songmyeong to strike a deal, so he followed him. But Songmyeong headed for the Sky-Gazing Pavilion.
"?"
Cheon Seok-san tilted his head, then hid at a distance to wait.
About half an hour later, Songmyeong left through the main gate and headed down the road toward the Hundred Flowers Pavilion.
After watching Songmyeong’s back, Cheon Seok-san walked toward the Sky-Gazing Pavilion.
*
On the promised tenth day, Jong Bi arrived to collect signatures for the Three-way Martial Arts Duel Agreement.
Cheon Il-hae clicked his tongue.
"So it’s come to this. You lost."
The bet was that within ten days, Hwa Cheon-gang would accept Yong Jo-woon’s challenge to a martial arts duel. If he did, Cheon Il-hae would receive a painting worth two hundred thousand nyang; if not, he himself would propose a three-way duel. Gu Ja-ang had been sure he’d win… but he lost.
Won Seung didn’t even show up in person—he just sent a servant to collect the signatures.
‘Arrogant brat…’
Gu Ja-ang’s beard trembled with anger. Cheon Il-hae stoked the fire.
"Getting outsmarted by a youngster. Looks like you’re past your prime."
"I have no excuse. I never expected him to team up with Yong Jo-woon."
Gu Ja-ang tried to hide his discomfort and lowered his head.
"What if you lose this bet too? If Hwa Cheon-gang accepts the three-way duel… you’ll have to hand over your share of the North County Service Association."
Gu Ja-ang still believed Hwa Cheon-gang wouldn’t accept the three-way duel.
But now wasn’t the time to insist. If he kept claiming Hwa Cheon-gang wouldn’t accept, and then he actually did… he’d be humiliated again.
"That brat must be up to something. I’ll take care of it."
"Take care of what? Isn’t he from Seongwang House?"
Cheon Il-hae snapped.
He was still regretting the two hundred thousand nyang he’d spent in a moment of excitement that day.
Won Seung’s bravado played a part, but Gu Ja-ang’s coaxing was the real reason.
A bribe of twenty or thirty thousand nyang would have been enough to win over the magistrate…
Thanks to the painting, they did meet the magistrate. But all he did was make some polite remarks about managing the Xiang River.
When Yong Jo-woon and the Clear Water Sect were mentioned, the magistrate drew a line, saying Murim matters should be settled within Murim.
Cheon Il-hae knew well that officials preferred not to get involved in Murim affairs. So he had nothing more to say.
After one blunder after another, his gaze toward Gu Ja-ang grew colder.
‘Did you really spend two hundred thousand nyang just for that conversation?’