The Youngest Son of the Nanyang Jin Family

Chapter 204 —

When a horse moves, it always leaves behind tracks.

The deeper the hoofprints, the heavier the rider. If one knows how to follow those tracks properly, then even if the person disappears from sight, it’s still possible to find them.

From the moment I left the inn until now, I have been following one trail.

It definitely belongs to Moyong Jungcheon.

In a crowded place, he couldn’t erase his traces. And since he is a master like the Sword Emperor, it seemed he didn’t even consider the possibility that someone might be following him.

Even if he knew, he probably wouldn’t believe anyone could tail him without being noticed.

But if I only chased after his tracks from a distance, then not even Moyong Jungcheon would be able to detect me.

The only problem was the annoying fly sticking by my side.

“Where are you going? Huh?”

That was Cheon Yul, complaining as he kept following me without shutting his mouth, while I focused on the tracks ahead.

Perhaps he was frustrated since I hadn’t told him our destination.

I frowned and said,
“You don’t need to follow me. You should just return to Shanxi.”

“Then let’s fight first!”

I ignored his nonsense again and sped up.

Since Moyong Jungcheon was riding a horse, I couldn’t afford to waste time. The distance would widen quickly if I slowed down.

So I unfolded my light footwork as fast as possible, chasing after the traces. Unless Moyong Jungcheon stopped to rest, it wouldn’t be easy to catch up, but at least I could stay on his trail before it disappeared.

“I really don’t understand what you’re trying to do,” Cheon Yul grumbled again.

I glanced at him without thinking.

Startled by my sharp gaze, Cheon Yul quickly turned his head away and pretended to look elsewhere.

“Stay quiet.”

“O-okay…”

Hearing his subdued voice, I turned my eyes back.

The hoofprints were getting farther apart. That meant Moyong Jungcheon had started moving even faster.

I didn’t stop. I kept running forward.

Time became meaningless.

I had left when the sun was high above my head. Now the sun had set, and then risen again.

“Huff… huff… huff…!”

That was Cheon Yul’s ragged breathing behind me.

When I turned, his face was pale blue as if he would collapse any second.

“Are you alright?” I asked.

“Haah… why… are you… perfectly fine?”

“Because I’m used to it.”

“Used to this madness?”

Cheon Yul gave a hollow laugh.

We had been running the entire day without eating or drinking.

A normal person would have fainted long ago. Even a martial artist should have collapsed in exhaustion like Cheon Yul.

But I showed no such signs, and that clearly frustrated him.

I smiled faintly.
“Don’t neglect basic training. It’s very important.”

“…Damn it. Where did a freak like you crawl out from?”

Though he looked ready to drop dead, he clenched his teeth even harder. I could feel his determination not to fall behind me.

Seeing that, I increased my pace even more.

“You bastard!” he shouted angrily, but I didn’t stop.

I focused on the horse tracks—the depth of the hoofprints, the feel of the soil. By examining these carefully, I could roughly guess Moyong Jungcheon’s distance.

So I continued like that.

Only after two more days did I finally stop.

Even I was drenched in sweat and breathing heavily.

At last, I drank some water and ate.

As for Cheon Yul—he stumbled in much later, looking completely ruined. His face was ghostly pale, his hair and clothes soaked in sweat as if he had been caught in the rain. He was so skinny now that his cheeks were sunken, like a skull.

I tossed him a water flask.

He gulped it down, then shoved jerky into his mouth as if he hadn’t eaten in years.

“Haah… now I feel alive.”

“Stay a little farther. You stink.”

“You think you’re any better? You smell just the same.”

He lay down flat with a relieved expression, snoring almost immediately. Exhaustion had defeated even his stubbornness.

I shook my head with a small laugh and turned my gaze.

Where were we?

We had run northeast from Zhengzhou for three days straight. Likely somewhere around Bohyāng.

Far indeed.

Seeing how carefully Moyong Jungcheon hid his identity and moved in secret, I could already guess his destination.

The Shin-gyo’s hidden stronghold.

If I considered the timing of Hyemyung descending the mountain, it made sense. Moyong Jungcheon must be seeking help from the new branch leader.

After all, he had been humiliated in front of many people. He was even more prideful than Moyong Hyuk. Of course he would be plotting revenge against Hyemyung.

And if both Hoyun and Hyemyung were killed, the outrage of the orthodox sects would reach its peak. Then, Moyong Jungcheon could stand at the center, calming them down, and gain overwhelming support.

Moreover, if I could locate the stronghold, I might even discover who the new branch leader was.

“More important than the branch stronghold… is the branch leader.”

If I didn’t know who the new branch leader was, I’d be forced to treat every stranger as a potential enemy. That would be far too dangerous.

So even if risky, seeing the branch leader first was the best choice.

I stood and checked the tracks again.

The horse’s hoofprints were closer together now. That meant Moyong Jungcheon was slowing down—he must be near his destination. Thanks to my speed, the gap between us had narrowed greatly.

Not far now.

Would it be a stronghold? Or the hidden safehouse?

Who would be waiting there?

I didn’t know. But one thing was certain:

Whatever Moyong Jungcheon wanted, it would not go the way he planned.

Meanwhile, Moyong Jungcheon, still on horseback, arrived at a stop deep in the mountains.

The terrain was steep, the forests thick, and everything looked the same. Anyone without guidance would wander until they collapsed.

Corpses and bones scattered along the way told the story—travelers who had entered without knowing the path, only to be killed by beasts, poisonous plants, or venomous insects.

But Moyong Jungcheon rode on confidently, following a hidden route, until at last a large estate appeared before him.

It wasn’t grand or flashy, but plain and somber. This was the Shin-gyo’s hidden safehouse in Henan.

He entered.

And when he saw the scene inside, his lips curved into a deep smile.

“Welcome, Sword Emperor.”

“I thought my neck would stretch from waiting.”

“Hahaha, apologies. I was delayed by urgent matters.”

The man before him was one of Shin-gyo’s Protectors.

Awook.

Though he did not belong to the Twelve Branches, the weight of his presence revealed his extraordinary strength.

Moyong Jungcheon wasn’t surprised—he already knew the power of these people, and he had worked tirelessly to join their ranks.

Now, his chance had come.

Awook lifted a small wooden box. At that moment, everyone in the room bowed deeply.

They were the members of the Snake Branch (Sagak).

Their posture showed loyalty to their soon-to-be branch leader.

“If you accept this, you will become the new Branch Leader of the Snake Branch, Moyong Jungcheon. May you use the power granted by the God in His name.”

Clack—

Awook opened the box.

Inside was a shining curved jade bead.

The moment he saw it, Moyong Jungcheon’s face filled with joy.

How long he had longed for this?

Generations of his clan had tried and failed to obtain such power—strength beyond humans, reaching the level of immortals.

Now it was finally within his grasp.

With trembling hands, he reached for the jade.

His heart pounded wildly, drowning out all other sights and sounds. He was consumed by ecstasy.

The others, too, were entranced. Their eyes burned with greed, drawn to the jade’s mysterious light.

Just as Moyong Jungcheon’s hand was about to touch it—

BOOM!