The Legend of the Northern Blade

Chapter 218: The World Changes, and People Easily Forget the Past (3)

Reader SettingsChange Font:HelveticaNotoSansLiterataSFProTextSelawikAfter leaving the Fu County Branch, Kwak Moon-Jung headed toward his original destination, the slums north of the Road of Forgotten Souls.

The old man smiled. "As you can see, my time is up. My internal organs are all damaged, so I don't know how many days I have left."

During the three years of the Great War of Darkness, countless people had lost their homes and families. The slums of Fu County had formed naturally as these displaced people gathered together.

Like any other slum, a gloomy atmosphere hung over the area. Flies swarmed through the streets, and the terrible stench of rotting filth assaulted him. Children who had lost their parents sat scattered along the road with vacant expressions.

Kwak Moon-Jung sighed softly at the soulless look in their eyes. He had seen this sight constantly on his way to Fu County. Such children were everywhere in the Central Plains. As the war with the Silent Night dragged on, the powerless suffered most, and no one knew when it would end.

After a moment, Kwak Moon-Jung walked toward the largest-looking shack in the slums. A torn red blanket hung in its window.

He definitely said he would hang a red blanket by the window and wait.

When Kwak Moon-Jung knocked, an elderly voice called from inside. "Who is it?"

"I'm from the White Dragon Merchant Association."

Like any other slum, a gloomy atmosphere hung over the area. Flies swarmed through the streets, and the terrible stench of rotting filth assaulted him. Children who had lost their parents sat scattered along the road with vacant expressions."The White Dragon Merchant Association?"

The door creaked open, and an old man in his early sixties emerged. He glanced around for a moment, then whispered cautiously, "Please come in."

"Thank you." Kwak Moon-Jung bowed and stepped inside. The shack was larger within than it looked from the street.

The old man looked him up and down. "You're younger than I expected. What's your name?"

"I'm Kwak Moon-Jung."

"Master Kwak. In any case, I'm glad you've come."

The old man smiled. His eyes brimmed with a wisdom that belied his slum dwelling. He was skinny, though, and his pale face revealed the severity of his illness.

"Just rest. Don't you have someone to look after now?" The escort pointed at Han Seon-Woo.

While studying Kwak Moon-Jung, the old man suddenly covered his mouth with a handkerchief and broke into a fit of coughing. It went on for a long time, a wracking sound as though his lungs were tearing apart.

Kwak Moon-Jung pressed a hand to the old man's back and infused him with inner qi. The gentle flow soothed the man's lungs, and a bit of color returned to his face.

"Hmm! Is that so?" Nam Myeong dipped a finger into Kwak Moon-Jung's food and brought it to his mouth. He chewed for a moment, then frowned and spat it out. "Ptooy!

"T-Thank you," the old man gasped, lowering his handkerchief.

He also sensed he didn't have much time left. The injuries he had sustained during the war worsened by the day, and he had reached his limit. He had to find someone to entrust his grandson to.

However, Kwak Moon-Jung's expression stayed tense. He had spotted the dark red bloodstains on the cloth.

This was no simple case of coughing up blood. Bits of crushed flesh dotted the stains. The old man's internal injuries were so bad, not even a deity could save him now.

"Well, I'll be heading out.

The old man smiled. "As you can see, my time is up. My internal organs are all damaged, so I don't know how many days I have left."

Kwak Moon-Jung's eyes trembled. The old man spoke of his own death so calmly. Death was a fearful thing for anyone, yet this man seemed to have risen above that fear.

"That's why I had to make a decision before it was too late. It's the reason I asked him to send someone trustworthy." The old man turned toward the inner room, shouting, "Seon-Woo, come in."

"As you can see, my time is up. My internal organs are all damaged, so I don't know how many days I have left."

"Yes, Grandfather."

A boy who looked about ten years old opened the door and stepped out.

"This is my grandson, Han Seon-Woo. Seon-Woo, greet him. This is Kwak Moon-Jung. Master Kwak will take you to that person."

Han Seon-Woo looked at Kwak Moon-Jung. The boy had black eyes as full of wisdom as his grandfather's. They twinkled like stars, as if they held all the wisdom in the world.

After a simple funeral for the old man, Kwak Moon-Jung returned to the White Dragon Merchant Association's quarters with Han Seon-Woo.

Han Seon-Woo bowed his head. "I'm Han Seon-Woo. Please take care of me from now on."

"Uh, I look forward to it, too," Kwak Moon-Jung answered in a daze.

"Although Seon-Woo is young, he has inherited everything from me. My shallow knowledge couldn't possibly fill his vast potential. He might grow arrogant and stray down the wrong path, so please tell that person to guide him correctly."

"Don't worry, Elder."

The old man smiled. "Thank you."

Though he had ended up in this slum, he had once been a very famous scholar. He had lost his son, his daughter-in-law, and his home during the Great War of Darkness before coming here.

Despite their hard life in the slums, he never neglected his grandson Han Seon-Woo's education. Fortunately, the boy was bright and absorbed his grandfather's teachings in no time. He was a true genius, a rare talent.

That was exactly what worried the old man. He feared his grandson's brilliance might breed arrogance, leaving him to look down on the world and make the wrong choices.

"Uh, I look forward to it, too," Kwak Moon-Jung answered in a daze.

He also sensed he didn't have much time left. The injuries he had sustained during the war worsened by the day, and he had reached his limit. He had to find someone to entrust his grandson to.

Few people were learned enough to challenge his grandson's intellect. Fortunately, the old man knew of one such person. Coincidentally, that person had learned of Han Seon-Woo's existence and reached out first.

Somehow, his unspoken wish had come true.

Thus, a heavenly connection was formed, and that person sent someone through the White Dragon Merchant Association to retrieve the boy.

It went on for a long time, a wracking sound as though his lungs were tearing apart.

The old man felt fortunate. Now I can be at ease. He will surely guide my grandson to the right path.

The conversation between the old man, Han Seon-Woo, and Kwak Moon-Jung carried on through the night.

The next morning, the old man passed away. He died with a satisfied smile, as though he had done everything he needed to do in this world.

After a simple funeral for the old man, Kwak Moon-Jung returned to the White Dragon Merchant Association's quarters with Han Seon-Woo.

Back at the inn, Han Seon-Woo cried all night. Despite his intelligence, he was still only ten years old. Being separated from his grandfather was bound to break his heart.

Kwak Moon-Jung watched over the boy the whole time. He knew that during times like these, it was best to simply let him pour out all his sorrow.

Fortunately, Han Seon-Woo recovered the next day.

The members of the White Dragon Merchant Association welcomed the boy warmly, too. They didn't ask why Kwak Moon-Jung had brought him. They simply treated him well because Kwak Moon-Jung had vouched for him. He had earned their trust.