Chapter 409

The Jin Gajang has a new sign up.

“Universal Jin Family” (天下振家).

Those four characters fill the frame grandly.

Well, I went ahead and wrote it.

But Qing is still being cautious.

Everyone’s raving about how great his handwriting is, but from Qing’s perspective, it’s just the plain script he’s seen on his hometown soil.

Having never studied calligraphy, he thinks it’s just a superficial imitation without any deep philosophy or imagery behind it.

Sure, he learned martial arts differently from other warriors and has been getting by with that, but the enlightenment he reached at the level of Supreme Martial Artist is really his.

So, he’s kind of puffing himself up, thinking he’s achieved something with all this talk of supreme levels and transcendence.

He relied on his monstrous physical abilities for carpentry, but he diligently learned the tricks of the trade through observation and practice, and the same goes for his work as a physician.

But writing? He’s never put in any effort there, just scribbling down whatever comes to mind while those around him are beating their foreheads in excitement.

It’s truly embarrassing, it’s like they’re applauding for simply breathing well.

However, Jin Gaju is all smiles.

He’s always had a gentle demeanor, but today he looks the happiest Qing has ever seen him.

“Is it okay that it’s not a proper plaque script?”

There are some established characters for writing on signs.

It may not be national law, but it definitely should be done that way, right?

Otherwise, people will point fingers at you for messing up and sullying the first impression of the sign and the community it represents.

“This… is the best handwriting I’ve ever seen for a sign in my life. I guarantee it.”

But to the people of the Central Plain, Qing’s standard hometown script is like a mind-blowing new world.

It’s not hastily written; every stroke carries the weight of time, shaped through a lineage established meticulously.

Even if there are established scripts for signs, verses written by high-ranking figures like a virtuous master or an emperor are said to hold even more value.

Qing’s handwriting has that kind of value.

Honestly, even if Qing’s handwriting were so bad it looked like doodling, it’s still the writing gifted by a princess.

“I wish I could treat the master with the respect he deserves, but the Cheonhwa-geom must be burdensome, right?”

“Yes.”

Jin Gaju smiles knowingly, as if he expected this.

This simple young genius has a knack for underestimating his own abilities, always being shy about how little he thinks he’s accomplished.

He’s devoid of that typical arrogance some young masters carry, born of confidence.

It’s hard not to find that adorable.

How on earth did such a fairy-like disciple come out of the legendary Yoo Gwang-gyeon!

How did the heavens give birth to Yoo Gwang-gyeon and also have him take Cheonhwa-geom as his disciple!

So envy-inducing! I could die from envy!

Ultimately, having children is the greatest blessing among all blessings, and a child and a disciple are indistinguishable.

Since the matriarch didn’t show a hint of old age at the Martial World Tournament, it’s entirely possible that her late-life discipleship luck burst forth due to her kindness.

The children resemble their gentle and dignified father, earning praise for their character.

But the compliments, “Your children seem to have such great characters,” always seem like veiled insults about everything else but their personality.

The gaze of Jin Jagang, looking at Qing, sparkled like a sharp diamond out of a childhood picture book.

Qing, feeling extremely pressured, shyly averted his gaze.

Jin Jagang’s demeanor is not excessive.

The eyes of Jin Gajang’s people are red as they look at the sign.

The tilted sign represents not only Jin Gajang’s broken past but also serves as a memorial to fallen kin.

Thus, gazing at the new four characters gives the Jin family not just a beautiful writing piece, but a vague hope that things will turn around.

Whether they truly liked the writing or wanted to show that Jin Gajang was still alive, they opened the main gate unusually wide.

Considering that a commoner or a worker wouldn’t usually enter the front door of a prestigious family, this was quite a bold move.

“Wow, those characters are beautiful. How much do you think something like this costs?”

“Wake up. Money isn’t everything. It’s all about connections, connections.”

“Who would even want it? I’m just curious what a single character on a scroll would cost. Why didn’t our ancestors leave even one behind?”

“Well, why would the descendant, with that greedy look, leave any behind for the future? Man, it looks like it’s glaring at me fiercely. This is really the best in Guangdong.”

Thus begins Jin Gajang’s real construction.

—-

The restoration of Jin Gajang starts with a wall.

Tearing down the old roof tiles and putting up shiny new ones from the kiln.

Then, sprinkling seawater on the walls to wash off the dust and applying ash to freshen it up; even if the inside stinks, from the outside it’ll look like a freshly built wall.

As if stretching out proudly, Jin Gajang mobilizes a large workforce.

Son Representative Ho has quietly slipped away, and Qing thinks it’s probably because he doesn’t want to help with the restoration.

After all, he was one to always talk about being the boss.

Gyeon Pohee, however, claims she just enjoys being with Qing no matter what they end up doing.

But for Qing, it’s just plain boring.

It’s not a task requiring any technique, nor some fun hands-on work.

Painting walls just brings back bad memories, and stacking tiles is nothing but a monotonous repetition.

And there’s the count of the good works that are steadily creeping up, getting a bit too close for comfort for the charitable deeds of Uncle.

When Qing first saw it, Uncle had just passed a hundred bad deeds, and now he’s nearing five hundred good ones.

But Uncle can be forgiven for being a bit simple; it’s not that his inherent nature is evil.

But when I look at Gyeon Pohee’s count, I can’t help but recall Yeom Hwi-young’s numbers too.

But what about Son Representative Ho?

Can one thousand points of bad deeds simply be exchanged for one thousand points of good ones?

If one thousand evil deeds are stacked and one thousand one hundred good deeds are acquired, can we say that person is a good individual?

Or, conversely, if one thousand good deeds are done and then one thousand one hundred evil deeds are committed, exceeding a hundred points, does that mean it’s okay to torment them like before and deem them a villain?

Can it really be reduced to a mere addition or subtraction where you just throw it all together, like, “Okay, the jeweler lost thirty gold coins”?

I recall the performances of Great Master Mucheondae or Great Master Mucheong scoffing at what a foolish notion this all is.

How did those old men have such confidence to dismiss it as naive folly?

Qing’s hands, stacking tiles, slow down until they come to a complete stop as he stares blankly into the air.

Gyeon Pohee, seeing his trembling hands, asks with concern.

“Uncle? Are you feeling unwell?”

“Uh? No. Just… a bit… feeling off.”

“Feeling off? That’s no good! What should I do? Should I hug you?”

“Uh? Yes.”

Being embraced by Uncle does help calm his feelings a bit.

But, is he just going to keep putting it off?

After finding out Yeom Hwi-young’s identity, Qing had been doing his best to avoid thinking about it.

Thankfully, his mother’s revelation was shocking enough to make him shiver just thinking about it.

Or is it I who’s wrong? Would I have shuddered if Gunyongi or Nam-hyung had said it was mommy? Isn’t this misandry?

No, no, no. I shouldn’t back away.

Qing forced himself to steady his instinct to distance himself.

He has to come to a conclusion somehow.

Even if he wishes not to think about it, there will come a time when he can’t escape the truth anymore.

“I’m thinking of going back early today, Gajujin.”

“Is that alright? You don’t look so well.”

“Just a bit. So I’m planning to rest early.”

“Well, I’d like to offer you the Guest Hall, but it’s not in great shape yet. Try to rest well, and if you continue feeling unwell, it’s okay not to come out. Just focus on recovering your body first.”

Jin Jagang gently encourages him to rest well.

And so, surrounded in Uncle’s arms, he sets off home.

As he cuddles on the soft bed, he tries to piece his thoughts together.

Can I say, if I do lots of good, that it’s okay to do some bad?

If there are about a thousand points of good karma, could it be okay to lose a hundred points for a little boredom by harming some innocent commoners, so that it still leaves me with nine hundred points?

On the flip side, he thinks that’s utterly nonsensical.

The way people live isn’t just a series of choices like choosing fingerprints on a screen happen to be.

A person with high good karma will just keep it high because good people are naturally inclined to uphold a virtuous lifestyle.

The same goes for villains.

Unless they suddenly snap or experience a shock—like a jolt of a reality check.

But is change not possible?

Haven’t people changed?

Uncle, Son Representative Ho, Grandpa, the fugitives from Seolgasa…

Did all those villains I killed, the ones I toyed with for fun and treated like trash, ever have a chance to change?

Am I… am I…

Am I good?

A Flesh Demon, a sadistic killer, just someone who got lucky…

“Uncle? Uncle!?”

“Hmm?”

As Qing snaps back to reality at the voice calling him desperately, he finds himself tightly embraced in Gyeon Pohee’s arms.

“Uncle, are you okay?”

“Ah. You’re back to your senses? Uncle, you were shivering like crazy! You were sweating cold! Are you alright? Are you in pain? Is it another fit? Like when you were with the Divine Sect?”

Gyeon Pohee’s face is filled with concern; she looks ready to burst into tears at any moment.

Qing’s own reflection in her eyes shows the same concern, but he somehow can’t meet her gaze and lowers his head, unable to look.

Oh man, this is exactly what I didn’t want to think about.

But it’s true—thoughts don’t just vanish because you refuse to acknowledge them.

So, no matter how hard he tries to shake it off, those dirty thoughts keep looping back.

Finally, Qing has made a decision.

“Uncle… can I touch your chest?”

It’s embarrassing, but they say escaping can sometimes help.

Honestly, he has no idea.

Should he trust these numbers?

Even if he does, why the heck are they telling him this kid’s a bad kid and this one’s a good guy?

Why not show it separately—good karma and bad karma?

Why must they mess it all together to make it all feel gross and annoying?

Whatever, he’ll just focus on grabbing the chest.

—-

As construction really kicks off on Jin Gajang, there’s another group racing against the clock.

Gwangju Seonbang.

The Salwold Sect is just watching for now, while the Gold Robbery Guild is facing a colossal disaster that’s ongoing.

But neither knows about the other’s situation.

The relations between the three Sapas aren’t good at all.

Not just lukewarm but genuinely unpleasant; being grouped together as the three major sects is altogether repulsive.

There should only be one tiger per mountain peak. (Though tigers might have differing opinions.)

When Jin Gajang is ousted, only one force should take control of Gwangju.

That’s why the leader of Gwangju Seonbang is openly laying low.

He plans to sit back and wait until Jin Gajang backs down, then strike from behind later.

Of course, it’s so obvious that the remaining two forces are boiling with anxiety, secretly making an unspoken agreement that once they kick Jin Gajang out, they’ll turn their attention to him.

But that’s only after they’ve gotten rid of Jin Gajang.

As Jin Gajang stirs and looks ready to rise again, even the Gwangju Seonbang, who planned on just watching, can’t do nothing but sit by.

And naturally, people’s true nature shines through in times of trouble.

Just as kind folks can’t help but stop and lend a hand to those in distress, those with malicious hearts behave in concert, executing the same cruel actions.

So, they simply revert to a method that worked before.

But the situation now is quite different from before.

At least when they last tried, Qing wasn’t in town.

And now, Qing is here.

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