Chapter 68
Chapter 68
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 68
Chapter Title: Establishing One's Ground (2)
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“You’re that child! Our boy will enter the Heaven-Earth Pavilion in a couple years too! Teach him well!”
“What a rare martial prodigy. Don’t look down on your slower brothers just because you’re ahead. Read lots of books and stay humble.”
“Come here. Yes, good eyes. That’s right! Share what you see with your friends, and teach your elder and younger brothers too. Always look around you. They’re all your family. Don’t forget you’re not alone.”
Cheonwi lived surrounded by attention and praise.
He loved the big house.
No father, no mother, yet he never felt like an orphan.
His heart’s roots sank firmly into the Peng Clan soil.
And the boy, once faster than anyone, began to blend in with the others.
The Grand Matriarch never changed.
Her feelings toward him were always the same.
Whenever she saw Cheonwi, she smiled kindly, reassuring him not to worry, that it was okay, that things would work out.
She turned her attention more to the other boys.
Some showed their talents more slowly. As they built their inner power, the gap narrowed. Cheonwi grew impatient. He was still just a child, lacking the ability to control the shifting situation.
Before long, the Heaven-Earth Pavilion’s genius boy had become ordinary.
Of course, some recognized his unique talent. The Four Heroes, or masters of their caliber, valued Cheonwi’s abilities highly.
But their minds were as steadfast as their martial prowess, and none had faced frustration at such a young age like him. They carried the dignity that commanded respect anywhere in the world, yet lacked the delicate experience to fully understand what Cheonwi endured.
“How do you do this?”
“Wow! It works like that?!”
“Amazing! Again! Show us again!”
Cheonwi always had peers around him.
One by one, the children drifted away.
“Yeah, that’s clever, but you can block it like this.”
“Sorry. That won’t work.”
“That trick doesn’t fool anyone anymore! This is better!”
Children could be cruel at times.
Their innocent honesty could wound deeply.
“Who’s he kidding. It’s nothing special.”
“Let’s trip him later.”
Oho and Danmun never left Cheonwi. They weren’t Four Heroes, nor had they mastered the Heaven-Earth Void Art, but from their own youthful days, they’d known there was something special about him.
Even as the stem swayed, the roots grew ever stronger.
Deep in the earth were Oho and Danmun.
The Grand Matriarch, the unchanging elder sisters and aunts of the Heaven-Earth Pavilion, the masters who saw his worth—they were all his foundation.
The child became a youth.
The slow ones grew faster than him.
Cheonwi’s genius faded from memory.
Oho and Danmun took center stage instead. Cheonwi didn’t mind. He shared everything he saw to help them shine at the top.
Trials came regardless.
As Cheonwi’s training stalled, some instructors whispered of laziness. Irresponsibility, insufficient practice.
It could look that way.
The Grand Matriarch smiled, offering worried advice instead of cheers. Once hailed as an outstanding female knight for her martial skill, she lacked the Four Heroes’ insight into cultivation. As the Heaven-Earth Pavilion’s seat leader, she’d always trusted the instructors, and the Four Heroes never stepped in to insist on Cheonwi’s exceptional nature to her.
Watching attitudes shift with cultivation progress, Cheonwi finally grasped life’s injustices clearly.
It was inevitable in a martial house.
Knowing and accepting were different.
At around ten years old, maturity was beyond him.
Cheonwi couldn’t bear the deprivation and frustration well. He’d never imagined the laggard’s feelings as a child, but experiencing them hit harder than anyone’s.
Loss bred anger.
He hated the clan’s rules.
When he hated them most, he broke them on purpose.
Oho scolded such Cheonwi, while Danmun sometimes egged him on gleefully.
The true target of his pent-up rage wasn’t the Peng Clan’s forty-eight gate rules, but the world’s unfair absurdities. But Cheonwi was still too young to realize that. Those few teenage years passed in utter chaos, unaware.
Yet warm people remained warm.
Many raged at his misdeeds, but plenty worried for his wandering and cheered his redemption. Oho and Danmun were always by his side.
No matter how the Peng Clan treated him, he was still one of them.
Raised in the Peng Clan, those who disliked him and those who liked him were all family. Even ill words from others, if true, he accepted.
He hated and cherished the Peng Clan.
His childish tantrums were long past.
In the jianghu where skill defined life, the clan’s treatment was natural and right. He’d received far more than given. Not loved so intimately as to vow repayment, but undeniably a Peng Clan son.
Thus, he could die for it.
Nothing was impossible for the Peng Clan.
Cheonwi remembered those moments of death that way.
That time too.
Dying before everyone.
Cheonwi could vividly recall that night anytime.
* * *
Darkness thickened.
In the deep night, Cheonwi grew swifter, stealthier.
Not martial arts. The night seemed to bless him.
Even the city that never sleeps ends.
The Tiger Hour was tiger time, they said. Even late-night taverns doused their lights.
He felt like a nocturnal beast.
Deeper peace drew him cityward.
Many jianghu folk moved under night’s cover, but Cheonwi felt no hindrance.
On a moonless night, dawn birds filled the sky. Ground insects chorused back.
Cheonwi crossed the midst soundlessly.
His form was shadow itself. White-clad, yet he appeared black.
Past the draper’s, to the sundries shop.
Strange.
He slipped through the open window into the pitch-dark interior.
Blue stillness greeted him. Faint light traced the frame. Cheonwi’s eyes saw all clearly. His pupils now absorbed much light without inner power.
‘Gone.’
As sensed from outside, no arm-case in sight.
His arm wasn’t here.
He knew the instant he scanned the shop.
Focusing on the arm stirred a tingling at the stump.
Cheonwi turned his head.
His gaze swept outside. Pulled, his body leaked from the shop.
Yes.
His movement wasn’t a man exiting a door, but black liquid seeping through a crack. The door stayed shut, untouched. Cheonwi rode the wall shadow. His silhouette stretched terrifyingly fast.
Sssak! Sssak!
Free of the town, into wooded outskirts.
Insect chirps sharpened.
A modest house appeared.
No plaque, just a name-board on the pillar. Cheonwi didn’t read it. No need; he didn’t know it anyway.
Name unknown, but occupant clear.
The scent: fear, joy, submission. The sundries shop’s smell. The owner’s home.
Merchant’s house, high walls. Meaningless to Cheonwi.
Over to the inner courtyard.
Timbers scattered everywhere. They supplied and sold furniture, but crafted some too.
Sawdust particles floated in the night air.
His vision entered superhuman realms. Other senses too. He heard servants sleeping inside: eleven. Heartbeats thrummed his ears. He felt the pulsing red liquid, its flow vividly.
Two scents especially sweet.
Women. Young.
Cheonwi inhaled deeply, calming his heart.
He could control it. For now.
Problem: much blood lost. Risk of losing control.
Deep breaths repeated.
First clear intake to the head, second to the heart.
Body next.
No standard breathing.
Ignored lower and middle dantian to任督 two meridians. Opened fine vessels first, pushing blood qi to fingertips and toes.
“Huuuuuu.”
Blood hunger eased.
Sweet blood scent ignorable.
‘I was taught.’
He’d felt it before.
Cheonwi realized this craving control was learned, not instinct.
Sensed the barrier in his mind again.
Memories beyond taught him.
Through learning, he lived as man, not monster.
Strange emotion surged.
Unforeseen, Cheonwi couldn’t name it at first.
‘Thank you.’
It rose from his chest depths.
He faced his heart squarely. That was the feeling.
To the terrifying her, inexplicable gratitude.
He stood so briefly, then lifted head and stepped.
Inside the building: what he sought.
Heartbeat sounded. Prior scent emanated.
Bedchamber.
Door locked, but easy.
Without inner power, his grip crumpled the thick bolt like paper. Only now aware of his monstrous strength. Far stronger.
Inside, the shopkeeper lay on the bed. Alone. Arm-case easy to spot. No, trivial. His hand rested atop the lid, treasured like a jewel box.
Cheonwi sat before the case.
Extended left hand, brushed the shopkeeper’s aside.
The man startled awake, sat up. Blinked at the dark figure.
No surprise.
No fear. Eyes glazed.
“You’ve come.”
The shopkeeper adjusted on the bed.
Voice calm. As if awaited. He continued.