WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: HidingTurtle

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◈ Raised by a Ruthless Swordsman ◈

Chapter 9: Mount Wudang

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“If you don’t want to see something ugly, you’d better step aside.”

I considered those absurd words as I studied the man.

Would that really be the end of it if I stepped aside? His hand kept clenching and releasing the hilt of his sabre. A hand that restless did not look like it would settle down just because I gave way.

It was none of my business what they did to the waiter. Still, I had not yet heard anything about the protection convoy. If that kid got hurt here, I would not know who else to ask.

That would be troublesome. I decided to think of it that way.

“I have business here first.”

I said only that, without much feeling. I had merely stated a fact, but judging by the twitch of his brow, the man did not see it that way.

“You little bastard.”

The two behind him added threats of their own. With every exchange, the air inside the inn grew heavier. I saw the man standing at the rear tighten his grip on his sabre hilt.

My hand, too, slowly moved toward my waist. I had been told not to draw my sword carelessly, so I had no intention of drawing first.

Still, if they drew even an inch, I needed to be just as prepared.

Then, at that moment when everything hung by a thread,

“That’s enough. It’s too noisy to eat.”

The low voice did not belong to one of the men. Only then did I turn toward it. The men facing me and I all looked in the same direction.

It came from the people seated at one of the tables I had noticed when I came downstairs. The Black Snake Gang man at the front twisted his face into a scowl.

“And who are you lot? Just sit there and eat quietly. How dare you interfere? Are you that eager to die?”

The one seated in the middle answered by slowly turning and raising their head. The brim of the bamboo hat pulled low lifted with the motion.

A firmly set jaw and steady eyes emerged from the shadow. I had thought the voice belonged to a man with an androgynous voice, but the person was a woman.

The cape covering her shoulders slid down, revealing a neat blue-green robe that fell to the tops of her feet. It was unblemished by fading, and a round emblem sat at her chest.

It seemed there were women in the martial world who wore swords.

The man in front gave a hollow laugh.

“A woman? Hah. Where does some bitch get off interfering? You want to see something ugly too...”

As he spat out the words and took a step forward, one of his underlings hurriedly tapped him on the back. When he glanced back, the man’s face had gone pale.

“B-Boss. That is... Wudang. Wudang. Damn it, can’t you see the robe?”

“...Wudang?”

The lead man froze where he stood. The hand resting on his sabre hilt slowly loosened.

The woman gave a faint snort at the sight.

“We’ll pretend we didn’t see you today. That’s enough. Leave.”

The lead man’s face shifted between red and pale. He bit his lip, apparently humiliated, but that was all. The hand that had left his sabre hilt did not rise again.

Wudang. I had never heard the name before. What could it be, for those empty-headed men to go so pale?

“We’ll leave it at this today. Let’s go.”

The four Black Snake Gang men shoved one another out through the door. Nothing remained of the force with which they had burst in. The door slammed open and shut, and the inn became quiet as though it had all been a lie.

Only then did the waiter collapse to the floor, breathing hard.

Before the woman looked away, our eyes met briefly. Her gaze seemed to pass over the sword at my waist, but there was nothing more to it. She looked away first.

The man seated beside her quietly scolded his junior martial sister, though loudly enough for me to hear.

“Junior Martial Sister. Didn’t we tell you not to reveal our identity if possible? What do you intend to tell Martial Uncle?”

His words were reproachful, but there was no anger in them. Perhaps because she knew him, the woman did not seem cowed.

“If someone is about to be cut down before my eyes and I pretend not to see, what kind of cultivation is that?”

Her answer did not yield an inch. Only then did the man across from her smile faintly.

“...Yes. You’re right. Well done.”

He sounded older than the others. He was likely the one leading them.

They seemed to continue talking among themselves afterward, but I did not bother to listen. They had nothing to do with me, and I had no reason to keep watching them.

The waiter steadied their breathing and staggered to their feet. After wiping the hand that had touched the dirt floor on their clothes, they gave me an awkward nod.

“...You nearly got dragged into something ugly because of us, sir. I’m ashamed.”

I had not done it for the waiter, so I had no reason to accept thanks. I only nodded once.

Still, the name Wudang kept nagging at me. I considered asking, but the people from Wudang were sitting too close.

I decided I would casually ask about it later when I heard about the escort agency.

“Just make sure you find out about the escort agency.”

“Leave it to me!”

A small smile appeared on the waiter’s pale face. I nodded once more, adjusted my sword, and left the inn.

Outside, the sunset had already begun to fade. There were still quite a few people moving through the streets.

I went a long way east along the main road. Before I reached the second corner the waiter had mentioned, there was a shop at the entrance to an alley with clothes hanging in long rows.

Garments hung all along poles, visible even from a distance. Unfaded clothes in lovely colors swayed neatly in the evening breeze.

The door stood wide open, and a cloth banner at the end of a pole fluttered in the wind. Two large characters on it read: Ready-Made Garments.

The inside was tidier than the outside. Clothes of all sizes hung in rows along each pole, while an older proprietor sat to one side with fabric spread over their knees, measuring and marking something.

There was a smell I had never encountered before. It was neither the grassy scent of the mountains nor the smell of oil from the inn, but something dry and crisp. If I had to say, I did not dislike it.

Perhaps sensing my presence, the proprietor looked up.

“Welcome.”

There was a smile on their lips, but it was not a smile meant for people. Their eyes were calculating what I might buy.

“I would like to buy a set of clothes.”

Their eyes passed over the dark stains on my sleeves and lapels.

“We’ve just received several sets suitable for a male customer. Come have a look.”

The proprietor led me farther inside. Several outfits hung before one of the poles, black, gray, and some dyed in various colors.

They selected several and held them out for me. Every one had a roomy fit and broad sleeves, loose enough that the fabric would not tug at me even if I swung my arms widely.

“Looks like you do work with your hands. These will suit you. The body needs to be loose so your arms can move freely, while the cuffs should be narrow so they don’t get in your way.”

They kept praising me with every word as they showed me one outfit after another. From their speech alone, they seemed like an ordinary merchant full of empty flattery, but the clothes they chose were not bad.

My hand went to one of them.

It was a dark gray outer garment made of rough-lined cloth. It was roomy, and the sleeves restrained my arms less. Even when I pictured drawing and sheathing my sword, the fabric did not seem like it would catch.

It was not thin, either. It seemed sturdy enough to last a season. It had no patterns or additions, and its plainness was better because it did not stand out.

“I’ll take this. How much is it?”

“Just two hundred cash. It’s strong cloth, so it’ll last a long time.”

The proprietor counted on their fingers as they named the price. I had no way of knowing whether it was high or low. Still, the smile spreading across their lips as they quoted it was exactly like the look in their eyes when they had sized me up upon my arrival.

Since I did not know the price, I had no way to haggle. But not knowing the price did not mean I failed to understand what they thought of me. I made as if to hang the clothes back on the pole.

“Oh, sir. There’s no need to leave in such a hurry. If you insist...”

The proprietor lowered the price.

“One hundred and fifty cash. Below that, there really is no profit in it for me.”

I studied the proprietor’s face. Despite their exaggerated manner, their expression still held some ease. Perhaps I could have pressed the price lower.

But even if I haggled more, I would not know what a fair price was. Compared to what I had paid at the inn, it did not seem excessively expensive for a set of clothes.

I nodded and loosened my money pouch. I paid with the silver ingot that had been returned to me after a corner had been cut off at the inn.

With the clothes tucked beneath my arm, I left the shop. The sun had nearly set, and lamps began to light up one by one along the darkening street.

* * *

When I returned to the inn, it was once again full of people and noise. Leaving that behind, I went straight upstairs to my room.

I shut the door, took off my ragged clothes, and shoved them aside. I was about to wash my face with the water the waiter had brought up when I stopped at the sight reflected in the basin.

In the mountains, I had let my hair and beard grow as they pleased. There had been no reason to trim them, and Hyeonam, the only other person I had seen there, also wore loose hair and a long beard.

That was what I had always seen, so I never thought it strange.

But while passing through the city gate and walking the streets today, everyone I passed had been neat and clean.

The reason the soldiers had glared at me and people had kept looking at me was not only my clothes.

The reflection in the basin made that clear. Tangled hair covered my shoulders, and my wild beard hid my jaw. I thought the beggars I had seen at the fish market as a child had looked exactly like this.

Splashing water on myself would not make me look presentable.

I drew my sword, bared its blade, and used it because I had nothing else that would serve. Feeling along my jaw and neck, I slowly scraped away my overgrown beard.

The blade scraped my skin roughly, making several places sting, but I did not care. Only after a long while did I wash my face and the back of my neck. The water quickly turned cloudy.

I gathered my hair behind my head and tied it with a cord.

Only then did I put on the new clothes. The rough cloth felt scratchy against my skin, but it left my shoulders and arms free. I twisted my body this way and that, and nothing felt uncomfortable.

I buckled my sword back on and left the room.

When I came downstairs, the inn was even fuller than before. Fortunately, a seat had opened at a table in the corner, so I went over and sat down.

The waiter, passing by to take orders, stopped short upon seeing me. They stared blankly for some time, then their eyes widened as though they had finally recognized me.

“Sir, is that really you from earlier? I almost didn’t recognize you. You look much better than before.”

The tone did not sound like empty flattery. Feeling awkward, I gave a needless cough.

“More importantly, I have no idea what to eat, so choose something for me.”

The waiter’s eyes moved for a moment before they lowered their voice.

“Most people who come here order stir-fried bamboo shoots and fish soup, but you can get those anywhere. I’d recommend something different for you, sir.”

They lowered their voice even further and told me that the chef here had originally learned their craft in Jiangnan. Dongpo-style braised pork, whole braised grass carp, stir-fried winter bamboo shoots, nothing that passed through the chef’s hands was ordinary.

They added that one dish would be enough for someone eating alone, and that grass carp was especially good now because it was in season.

Some of the names were ones I had seen on the paper pasted to the wall, but just as before, I could not imagine what they would taste like. Still, the mention of fish drew me for some reason.

In the mountains, I often caught and roasted rabbits and deer, but fish were hard to come by.

There had been many times when I traveled mountain ridges without even a stream of water. Before that, in my childhood when the smell of the sea had soaked into my clothes, fish had been common enough to sicken me of them. I could not even count how long it had been since I last tasted one.

“Then I’ll have this grass carp.”

The waiter withdrew with a satisfied expression. Not long afterward, the food arrived.

A long fish was served whole on a platter. Dark braising sauce had soaked into every diagonal cut along its back, and the sauce poured over it gleamed richly.

Steam rose from it, carrying a sweet, savory fragrance rather than any fishy smell.

I picked off a piece of flesh and put it in my mouth. It was firm, yet separated along its grain the instant it touched my tongue. The seasoning was salty at first, then settled into a light sweetness.

The waiter had been right to recommend it so strongly. I did not stop moving my chopsticks.

By the time I had cleared about half the meal, I suddenly noticed my surroundings. The once crowded room had become sparse, with empty tables visible here and there.

The waiter also seemed less busy, slowly stacking dishes to one side.

Had they found time to look into what I had asked? As I quietly watched, the waiter noticed my gaze and looked up at me.

Our eyes met for a moment. Then, as though realizing something, they nodded lightly and glanced around the room.

Still holding a dishcloth, they began to make their way toward me.

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