Became a God-Level M Chapter 223 : Long-Term Contract

Chapter 223: Long-Term Contract

Hubei Province, Mount Wudang.

Dozens of carriages carrying children and martial artists of the Orthodox Faction stopped in front of the Wudang Sect.

Except for the Wudang Sword Immortal, Hyeon-un, and Seomun Jeok, the other Myeongsuk had already headed to the Murim Alliance to handle and prepare for the turmoil triggered by the Demonic Cult's collusion with the Myriad Gold Manor and the death of Ha Cheong-a.

Jin Seong-un stretched as he stepped off the carriage and took in the scenery of Mount Wudang.

The serene atmosphere unique to the mountain deeply pleased him.

Seomun Ak and Seo Yu-gyeom, both Half Peak-level Masters, followed him down, along with Moyong Hyeon, who had decided to join the Seong-un Inn. He descended with a sullen face, like a cow being dragged to the slaughterhouse.

"You've all worked hard."

Jin Seong-un spoke to the Wudang Sword Immortal, Hyeon-un, and Seomun Jeok. The three of them smiled kindly, as if just looking at them was enough to feel full.

"Truly, the ones who worked hard are you all. We did nothing but arrive late."

The Wudang Sword Immortal said that and once again praised the achievents of Jin Seong-un and his group.

In truth, Jin Seong-un had an overwhelming desire to return straight to the Seong-un Inn from the Martial Palace.

However, he had promised the Wudang Sword Immortal and the Head of Martial Studies that he would return once matters were settled, and he was also worried about the children, so he had joined the carriages.

Seung-ryong, Neung Sogae, Tang So-yeon, and Huamyeong, who had all risked their lives in this incident, also stayed with them until the children safely arrived at the Wudang Sect.

In front of the Wudang Sword Lake, the four approached Jin Seong-un and his group.

They were no longer part of the Special Task Force.

Rather than the Special Task Force tied by lineage to the Five Great Clans and Nine Sects, they felt a deeper bond with Jin Seong-un, Seo Yu-gyeom, Seomun Ak, and Moyong Hyeon, who had fought together with their lives on the line.

Seung-ryong, with light reflecting off his bald head, spoke.

"I learned a great deal."

Everyone nodded.

Looking back, everything—from the journey to the Martial Palace, to the battle that ensued upon arrival—had matured them all.

Seung-ryong, instead of a monk's clasped hands, gave a martial artist’s clasped fists and continued.

"As soon as I return to Shaolin, I plan to enter closed-door training. Everything has been an awakening for . The growth of Young Master Seomun, the sharp spirit of Young Master Seo, and Young Master Jin’s…"

Seung-ryong paused for a mont.

What he had seen in Jin Seong-un was not rely strength.

Amazingly, Jin Seong-un embodied the very ideal all Shaolin monks aspired to.

A man who never lost his composure no matter the situation, who calmly subdued the demonic.

That was the Shaolin ideal of the present age.

"The next ti we et, I shall be different."

With those words, Seung-ryong even bowed his head in gratitude. It was undeniable that without Jin Seong-un, Seo Yu-gyeom, and Seomun Ak in the battle, he would have died several tis over.

Neung Sogae, successor of the Beggars’ Union, also gave a clasped fist beside him in gratitude.

Though he wasn't one to actively participate in most matters, he was at least not the kind of man to forget soone who had saved his life.

Thus, the successors of Shaolin and the Beggars’ Union owed their lives to the Seong-un Inn. At least, that’s how the two themselves felt.

Tang So-yeon and Huamyeong, not ones to stand on ceremony with Jin Seong-un, scratched their heads and said,

"I’ll visit once things settle down. I just want to rest up while having so Cheongtang Bamboo Stew again."

"How delicious could it be that you keep talking about that dish? I’m curious beyond restraint now—I'll bring so Plum Blossom Wine and co visit."

Tang So-yeon and Huamyeong each gave their farewells in their own way. Jin Seong-un welcod their words and nodded.

With that, all of the later-generation prodigies left—except Moyong Hyeon. Moyong Hyeon desperately wanted to follow them as well, but…

'Damn it.'

His clever mind was saying this:

No matter what, staying at the Seong-un Inn would be beneficial. Just look at Seomun Ak.

This wasn’t punishnt—it was an opportunity.

Even if he understood that logically, emotionally it was a different story.

"Am I really going to be working at the inn?"

Moyong Hyeon had never once in his life let even a drop of water or speck of dust touch his hands.

Naturally, he felt hesitant about such a radically different life.

To put it bluntly, the thought that he—once called the "Sword Dragon" and contender for the number one among later-generation prodigies—would now be an inn’s employee, was infuriating.

As Moyong Hyeon wrestled between logic and emotion…

Children poured out of the carriages all at once.

There were as many as eight hundred of them, making it feel like a tidal wave crashing in.

Moyong Hyeon stopped thinking and started looking after the children. He could worry later—first, his duty was to safely deliver the children to the Wudang Sect.

And Moyong Hyeon was a man who always fulfilled his duty.

As everyone helped care for the children and crossed halfway up Mount Wudang—

Seomun Ak, lost in thought for so ti, called to the man walking beside him.

"Father."

His tone was quite serious.

Seomun Jeok’s eyes had changed greatly as he looked at his son. It had already been so ti since he had turned over a new leaf, but being recognized as a true hero by the Myeongsuk of the Orthodox Faction after rising to Peak Master Level was another matter entirely.

Just looking at his son’s face made the corners of Seomun Jeok’s mouth twitch with pride.

Seomun Ak continued.

"I will return to the clan soon. Though I’ll miss my friends dearly, I’ve now reached the ranks of a proper ‘master’, and since I’ve made a na for myself, I plan to return and serve the family…"

"Don’t even dream of it."

"Yes."

The relationship between father and son, which had rapidly grown closer lately, beca a bit distant once again. Seomun Ak pouted, and Seomun Jeok pretended not to notice.

The one who had once been the most infamous scoundrel under the heavens had co to his senses, committed righteous acts, reached an astounding level, and was ultimately acknowledged by the Orthodox Faction.

There was only one cause behind all of it.

Seomun Jeok imdiately sent a voice transmission to the instructor in charge of his scoundrel son.

– Seong-un, I’ll be counting on you from now on as well. If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to contact the Seomun Clan. And if this brat shows any signs of reverting to his old ways, feel free to break his arms and legs. At the very least, until I die of old age, this rascal won't be returning to the clan.

Jin Seong-un, who was tending to the children, turned his head and looked at Seomun Jeok.

The two soon exchanged a nod.

And just like that—without Seomun Ak’s input—his contract was extended.

The term would last until Clan Leader Seomun Jeok passed away and the clan needed soone to take the reins.

The world often joked that the Seomun Clan were descendants of turtles, given their reputation as a long-lived family in this generation.

Shortly after arriving at the Wudang Sect, Seomun Jeok also bid farewell to everyone and departed.

Taoists sward out and began tending to the hundreds of children, while another group warmly welcod Jin Seong-un and his companions who had suffered much.

The Wudang Sword Immortal imdiately ordered preparations for a al. The children had barely eaten properly on the way.

The al was ready in no ti.

The Wudang Sect’s dining hall was large enough to accommodate at least a thousand people, so there was no issue.

However, the children rely poked at their food with their chopsticks.

The Wudang Sword Immortal furrowed his brow and said,

"Ah, if you're picky eaters from a young age, you'll never grow up to be proper adults."

The Orthodox Faction was making every effort to find the families of these children. Even so, there were bound to be hundreds who either couldn’t return ho or never had families to begin with.

The Wudang Sect decided to take in all of them.

Since their aptitude had already been verified, those judged to have a good disposition and diligence would be guided into the martial path. The rest would be led toward other suitable paths.

That’s why the Wudang Sword Immortal was already treating the children like young disciples of the sect.

The sterner his voice beca, the more sluggish the children’s chopstick movents grew.

Seo Yu-gyeom, who had been leaning against one side of the dining hall wall with his arms crossed, walked over.

"Co on now, they're not monks yet. How do you expect them to eat that? Even I’ve lost my appetite."

"......"

The Wudang Sword Immortal looked at the food.

Wudang cuisine was fairly well-regarded alongside Shaolin’s.

Of course, that was based on the taste preferences of old Taoists. After decades of eating vegetarian, they could appreciate subtle flavors.

But the children were different. Especially those who had just arrived at Mount Wudang—it was too soon to expect that.

"Want

to show you a little of my skill?"

Seo Yu-gyeom grinned confidently.

Everyone turned to him with renewed interest.

Because of the Martial Palace incident, they had seen him only as a young expert, but now that they thought about it—wasn’t the cuisine at the Seong-un Inn famous across the nation?

In truth, Seo Yu-gyeom’s standing was more established in the culinary world than in Murim.

The Wudang Sword Immortal voiced a concern.

"Wouldn’t it be better to take the children down the mountain instead? Here on Mount Wudang, the rules place many restrictions on food."

"Food goes down best when the heart is at ease. We’ve been trying to get them to eat all along the way, and it hasn’t worked."

Moving hundreds of people in a group naturally drew attention.

These children, still burdened with distrust and wariness toward the world, found that gaze difficult to bear.

Moreover, there were few inns or villages that could accommodate such numbers.

Their expressions had finally relaxed a bit only after arriving at Wudang Sect, which could hold not just hundreds but thousands.

Perhaps the spiritual and serene energy unique to Mount Wudang had soothed their hearts.

Seo Yu-gyeom continued,

"Let’s bring out the best flavor we can while still honoring Wudang’s rules."

Everyone's eyes lit up.

Seo Yu-gyeom confidently rolled up his sleeves and surveyed the kitchen. Since it was responsible for the daily als of Wudang Taoists, it was vastly larger than any inn’s and overflowing with ingredients.

Seo Yu-gyeom already carried within his mind all the culinary secrets of a legendary chef who once captivated a generation—the Food Butcher.

Having served in the imperial kitchen, the chef had mastered a variety of dishes suited to ti and occasion.

Naturally, that included vegetarian fare.

After quickly picking a few recipes in his head, Seo Yu-gyeom turned to the Wudang chefs and said,

"There's no way I can make hundreds of servings on my own, so just watch and follow what I do."

The Wudang chefs nodded.

They, too, were essentially Taoists of the Wudang Sect, but they had chosen cooking as their profession.

Seo Yu-gyeom first presented Tarakjuk (Sweet Rice Porridge). He finely ground pine nuts and walnuts, mixed it with flour, and boiled it down to a smooth, mildly seasoned porridge.

The intent was to quickly soothe the hungry children’s stomachs and prepare them for more stimulating dishes to co without upsetting their digestion.

As Tarakjuk was served, the anticipation died down slightly. It was a dish that the Wudang Sect already prepared from ti to ti.

At the sa ti, Seo Yu-gyeom began his second dish.

He thinly spread and double-fried mashed tofu.

The result was tofu that resembled at in color and texture.

He mixed it with broth made from simred mushrooms, kneaded it into a filling, and used it to make dumplings.

"Yurim Dumplings (油淋饅頭)."

It was a dish the Food Butcher used to serve whenever a guest of Shaolin’s Abbot-level stature visited.

While the chefs marveled in admiration, Seo Yu-gyeom imdiately began preparing the next dish.

Braised Lion’s Head (紅燒獅子頭).

A dish that mimicked Braised Pork Belly (紅燒肉).

He drained water from tofu wrapped in cotton cloth, then mixed it with finely chopped mushrooms and bamboo shoots, shaped it into atballs, and deep-fried them.

Next, he simred the atballs in a mushroom broth with soy sauce, sugar, and star anise until richly flavored.

In no ti, a glistening imitation of Braised Pork Belly was complete.

Following that were more dishes: Kung Pao Monkey Head Mushrooms (宮保猴頭), mimicking chicken using monkey head mushrooms; Yu Xiang Eggplant (魚香茄子), made savory with perilla oil instead of the forbidden Five Spices of Wudang; and even Seo Yu-gyeom’s signature Stir-Fried Bok Choy.

The Wudang chefs felt as if their vision was spinning from the constant stream of new dishes, but their hands didn’t stop moving.

Soon, Seo Yu-gyeom drizzled lted sugar over skewered fruits lined up neatly.

Just as puzzled looks began to flicker across everyone’s faces—

Seo Yu-gyeom activated his inner qi.

The cold air of Ice Qi instantly froze the sugar coating the fruit.

Tanghulu (糖葫蘆).

As the candied fruit sticks reached the children’s tables, the mood reached its peak.

Children chomped eagerly on the Tanghulu with both hands. The intense texture and flavor, a first in their lives, made their eyes glaze with delight.

Watching them closely, Moyong Hyeon was quietly astonished.

In fact, from the Martial Palace up to this place, the children hadn’t smiled even once.

No—more like they had all been staring blankly into space, as if emotionally numb.

He had even feared the Demonic Cult had used so evil arts on them.

But now, the children were laughing while waving frozen fruit.

Their faces sared with syrup, they were even playfully teasing each other.

They looked every bit like children their age.

Moyong Hyeon felt an odd sensation stir within.

Their now-bright expressions only made their previous darkness feel more vivid and painful in contrast.

Having been born and raised in comfort, always surrounded by others like himself, the horror of what had happened in the world struck Moyong Hyeon with deeper shock and weight.

Seo Yu-gyeom quietly approached him.

"That’s the power of food. It’s also why Jin Seong-un and I—and that one scoundrel—love the inn so much."

"......"

"Food is inherently tied to life. If one wishes to live, they must eat. In other words, ever since coming to the inn, I’ve been saving lives—after spending a lifeti taking them."

Moyong Hyeon watched the children’s expressions slowly coming back to life and quietly listened to Seo Yu-gyeom’s words.

"It may sound a bit lofty, but it’s not wrong. That’s what cooking—and the inn—is about."

Moyong Hyeon and Seo Yu-gyeom locked eyes.

Seo Yu-gyeom, unusually serious, spoke.

"Now that you’re here, I hope you beco soone different from before. Like I did. Like that scoundrel did. Moyong Hyeon."

Moyong Hyeon, the most aloof and bristly among the Seong-un Inn companions, was unexpectedly touched by this warm, first gesture of kindness.

And Seo Yu-gyeom continued:

– Otherwise, you’ll die. If you act like you used to even after joining the inn, you’re really going to die. I plan to off you quietly without Jin Seong-un knowing.

Fearing the children might hear his harsh words, he sent them via voice transmission. Thanks to that, the warning rang loud and clear in Moyong Hyeon’s head.

Seo Yu-gyeom gave a sly smile and nodded once.

At that mont, Moyong Hyeon recalled Seo Yu-gyeom slicing through a Peak-level Demonic Cult Master—and a chill ran down his spine.

‘...Father, is this truly the right path?’

Moyong Hyeon found himself seriously rethinking his decision to join Seong-un Inn.

Of course, just like with Seomun Ak, Moyong Hyeon’s long-term contract had already been sealed between Jin Seong-un and the Head of the Moyong Clan.

There was no escape.