Chapter 365: Gathering of the Orthodox Faction (6)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 365: Gathering of the Orthodox Faction (6)
The Dishonored Venerable’s face contorted into a crumpled mask of disbelief.
“…What are you suggesting?”
“It is exactly as I said.”
My intention was clear: to retain my current Mind Art while layering the Dishonored Venerable’s teachings atop it.
His response was a deep, disapproving frown.
“Should I take this as a death wish? If so, I can grant that in a much simpler manner.”
The unspoken threat hung in the air—he was offering to beat me to death.
How savage.
“I am not joking,” I replied, my voice level.
“Not joking? Then are you toying with me?”
“That is not it, either. I am completely serious.”
“Ha.”
His reaction was understandable. For a martial artist, housing two different Mind Arts within one body was considered impossible. Not only did the nature of Qi differ between arts, but if two conflicting energies were to collide internally, the result could be permanent disability—or death. The Dishonored Venerable’s own history was a testament to that danger. To master the martial arts he had created, he had been forced to sacrifice everything and begin anew. It was a peril so great that even he, a Venerable, had to abandon his foundations. There was no other way.
And yet, here I was, proposing to learn his art without relinquishing my own. No wonder he found the idea absurd.
“Do you truly understand what you are saying?”
“I do.”
“If that is true, then you should not be so confident—unless this is some elaborate jest.” His voice gained an edge, sharp with anger. He genuinely seemed to believe I was mocking him.
But I was in earnest. Ignoring his rising ire, I pressed forward. “I know there is something you want from me.”
The Dishonored Venerable paused at that. There was a reason he was offering me leniency, a reason he wanted me as his disciple. “There is something I cannot afford to discard,” I added.
“So, you intend to carry both within you? Do you believe that is even possible?” His gaze intensified, boring into me. “You speak as if martial arts are a child’s game.”
While it was technically feasible to study multiple martial arts, perfecting even a single one was a monumental task. My proposal to contain both his art and my own was audacious to the point of recklessness.
Even so, I stood my ground. “I will give up if you deem it impossible. However,” I met his gaze without flinching, “I will not become your disciple if I cannot attempt this. You are free to kill me instead.”
“…”
The Dishonored Venerable’s grim expression did not soften. I couldn’t tell if he was wrestling with his anger or seriously contemplating my murder. I had provoked him, and I was prepared to flee if he decided to strike.
Thankfully, after a long, heavy silence, he spoke again. “…And what will you do if this attempt fails?”
I had him. I nodded inwardly, careful to keep my satisfaction hidden. “If I fail, I will purge everything from my body, as you wish, and start from the bottom.”
The Dishonored Venerable fell into deep thought, but to me, his decision was already made. I had said I would abandon my arts if necessary, but I had no true intention of doing so. I was certain of one thing: I could learn his martial art without sacrificing my own. And fortunately, events were unfolding just as I had anticipated.
* * *
Mi Hyoran, owner of the White Flower Merchant Association merchant association and Lady of the Gu Clan, watched her husband. He sat behind a table piled high with letters, a white fan held loosely in her hand. His fierce eyes were the same as ever, but they carried a deeper weariness than usual. Though concerned by his exhaustion, the letter she held demanded precedence.
“What will you do?” she asked, her voice sharper than she intended. She made no effort to soften it.
Gu Cheolun, Lord of the Gu Clan of Shanxi—the man known as the Tiger Warrior—lifted his head. His red pupils burned with their familiar intensity. “About what?” he replied, as if he didn’t know.
Mi Hyoran’s frown deepened. “…Were you not informed as well?” She slapped the letter onto his desk. The blue stamp of the Murim Alliance was clearly visible. “There is a meeting. Are you truly not attending?”
“…”
Her gaze was cold and sharp. She had considered going alone the moment the letter arrived, but had restrained herself. “The Moyong Clan canceled their meeting with the White Flower Merchant Association association first.” She spoke as if stating a hypothesis, but she was certain. “I believe it is because they received news of the incident before we did.”
Furthermore, she had a specific reason for raising this now. The Moyong Clan was mobilizing for Henan, sacrificing their own interests, while Gu Cheolun remained inert.
He looked down at the letter, his expression unreadable, but Mi Hyoran detected a subtle shift in the atmosphere—a growing heat that signaled his displeasure.
“I know you did not attend the last gathering,” she continued. The Orthodox Faction’s assembly had not been convened for decades, and he had abstained then, too. “And I am aware our clan’s reputation suffered for it.”
While attendance was optional, absence risked being left behind. For Mi Hyoran, however, this was not merely a matter of reputation—crucial as that was for a merchant. She was approaching this as a parent.
“I do not blame you, because I know your reasons.”
“What is your point?” Gu Cheolun’s voice was thick with annoyance.
Yet Mi Hyoran did not retreat. “I have heard you plan to send the Captain of the First Army, our eldest daughter, and the First Elder in your stead.” This information had come from the steward. This delegation would represent the Lord in Henan. While sending two Elders and a blood relative could be seen as a respectful gesture, Mi Hyoran was not appeased.
“How can you… be like this?” Her voice was heavy with exhaustion. “As always, I will not demand you be a good father. I have failed to be a good mother myself.” With that, she turned to leave, profoundly dissatisfied.
“Even so,” she said, pausing at the door, “you cannot continue like this.” While she pitied the man burdened by the weight of Shanxi, her primary concern was for their children. “Even if you will not go, I shall attend as the owner of the White Flower Merchant Association association.” The White Flower Merchant Association might not be the largest merchant association, but their substantial donations to Mount Hua and the Alliance granted her the right. “If you wish, I will bring the children back myself.”
Until this point, Gu Cheolun had shown little reaction. But now, the air in the room grew noticeably warmer. Seizing upon this shift, Mi Hyoran delivered her final point. “I heard that our child was severely injured.”
* * *
Gu Cheolun’s hand, which had been reaching for another letter, froze. His gaze snapped to Mi Hyoran. “I saw no mention of that in the letter.”
“Then you must have read it very thoroughly.”
“…”
In truth, the letter contained no report of their two children being injured. However, Mi Hyoran’s meaning was clear. “Still, that is no reason for you to remain. You know that.” She would not press further. “I will speak no more. Excuse me.”
She closed the door behind her, leaving Gu Cheolun alone. Slowly, he brought a hand up to cover his face. After a moment, his eyes drifted back to the Alliance letter on his desk. He reread it in silence, then called out, “Steward.”
The door opened and the steward, who had been waiting quietly outside, entered and bowed. “My Lord, you called?”
After a moment of silent scrutiny, Gu Cheolun issued his order in a somber tone. “The delegation for Henan is changed. The Lord will attend the meeting personally. Inform the clan.”
“…!” The steward’s shoulders twitched in surprise, but he bowed deeply without questioning the sudden change. “Understood.”
After the steward departed, Gu Cheolun quietly closed his eyes.
Two months passed swiftly.
The journey to Henan had begun.