A Father's Unyielding Path
Kang Liang stared at the Yeon father and son with a look of pure disbelief.
“I should probably greet you with ‘It’s been a while…’ but after seeing you two, those words won’t come out.”
“I thought you were busy, but did you come back from a battlefield or something?”
Yeon Wi and Yeon Hojeong looked utterly ragged. Their clothes were torn in countless places. To exaggerate only slightly, they appeared worse than beggars from the slums.
The fight must have been ferocious. Their faces were still flushed, and they had yet to catch their breath. Even supreme peak experts—true masters standing at the threshold of the Divine Realm—could not regulate their breathing. It showed how completely they had emptied themselves in the clash.
Yeon Wi smiled.
“It has been a while. No trouble while we were gone?”
“None at all, thanks to you.”
“Hojeong has improved, but you’ve grown tremendously as well. You seem like an entirely different person from before.”
In the righteous White Path, few walked the orthodox martial path as purely as Yeon Wi. Such praise did not come easily.
Kang Liang gave Yeon Hojeong a strange look.
“I’m still taking baby steps compared to you, Brother. So, who won?”
Yeon Hojeong shook his head.
“It wasn’t that kind of spar. I simply realized I still have a long way to go before I can stand beside my father.”
Yeon Wi let out a soft chuckle.
“How shameless. You never allowed me a single proper strike.”
“Aren’t you the same, Father?”
It was not mere flattery.
From his father’s martial display, Yeon Hojeong had read the fierce contemplation and struggle Yeon Wi had endured all this time. The transformation could not be measured by simple terms like “stronger” or “higher realm.” It was truly astounding. The power was one thing, but the sheer scale of change left him stunned. Father was meant to leave his mark on the orthodox sword arts of the Central Plains. Yet now he has stopped pursuing greater depth and chosen the path of greater breadth instead.
No one could say which path was more efficient.
What mattered was that his father had shattered his own frame.
Yeon Wi’s stubbornness was second to none. Yet that same man had discarded the Yeon family’s martial arts multiple times to expand the boundaries of sword theory. For a man of his nature, such a shift must have been agonizing. He must have felt, over and over, that the path he had walked his entire life was being utterly denied.
A swamp of shock from which there was no escape once one fell in.
His father had plunged into that swamp several times and clawed his way out each time. Unlike the restrained swordplay of the Yeon family, he has incorporated domineering techniques. He has even embraced fierce chaotic swords and swift blades reminiscent of the battlefield. It is not mere usage—he has trained to the level of mastery in those areas. The Yeon family arts had always prized moderation and the middle way.
Yet in this duel, his father had shown radicalism and extremity.
Did that mean he had abandoned the family arts? Not at all. He had taken the Yeon family foundation and forged sword techniques more ruthless than those of any jaded wanderer in the Jianghu.
A swordsman once called the living embodiment of the Yeon family arts was now transforming into the embodiment of the sword itself. I am ashamed.
Yeon Hojeong had always taken quiet pride in his creative application of martial arts and his ability to expand his thinking through extreme combat experience. But seeing his father now, he realized how far he still had to go. I thought I had run without limits, yet was I simply leaning on the foundation I built in my past life?
Yeon Hojeong smiled at his father.
“Thanks to you, I can see the road ahead. At the very least, I cannot continue as I am.”
Kang Liang shuddered.
“Just what are you planning to do now? I try to catch up, but you sprint so far ahead that I keep losing all motivation.”
“My path is mine. Your path is yours. We do not train merely to overtake someone else.”
“That’s true, but… it still drains me every time you say something like that, Brother.”
Unlike Kang Liang’s reaction, Yeon Wi nodded with genuine gravity.
“If it helped in any way, I am glad. I, too, have learned much from you.”
“Learned from me? What could you possibly learn from such reckless martial arts?”
“You are a fine martial artist. There is no reason a father cannot learn from his son. I do not know what realizations you gained from me, but watching your martial arts has given me a great deal.”
“Hearing you say that is both embarrassing and relieving.”
“As a father, I could not be happier about my son’s growth. But as a martial artist, I am still in my prime. I must grow even greater and become the wall that stands in your way.”
Yeon Hojeong smiled.
In this regard, his father remained unchanged. Yet the martial arts he displayed had transformed completely. That made it all the more remarkable. Usually when one’s martial arts changed so drastically, their personality followed. Father’s heart cultivation, which still holds firmly to the middle way, can truly be called the best under heaven.
Kang Liang sighed.
“I’ll prepare the bath water. Both of you should wash up.”
“There’s no need. We can handle it ourselves—”
“Just wait. I need to earn my keep somehow, don’t I?”
Kang Liang left without waiting for an answer.
Yeon Wi turned to his son.
“He is nearly there.”
“You mean Liang?”
“Yes. In truth, it would not be strange if he broke through right now.”
Yeon Hojeong smiled.
“That fellow is greedy. It seems he wants to take everything he can before stepping forward.”
“Not clinging to realm, and possessing such composure despite being younger than you. You should learn from that side of him.”
“I will.”
Everything was a lesson. There was no reason to refuse learning simply because someone was weaker or younger.
In the end, life was the journey of completing oneself. On the path one must continue until the final breath, neglecting learning out of pride or ego was unacceptable.
As the two sat on the bench speaking quietly together—
The sunset had already begun to settle.
Gazing at the crimson sky, Moyong Gun thought, It is truly beautiful.
The sun sinking between the mountain peaks scattered its final, blood-red radiance with everything it had left. The scene carried a serene, almost lonely beauty. It was so captivating that one might want to leap into that sea of sunset and swim until exhaustion took them. While today ends like this, my own day is only beginning.
Moyong Gun smiled without turning his head.
“Don’t you agree?”
Yeon Hojeong had arrived at his side at some point. He stood beside him, watching the sunset.
“I don’t know what you’re asking, but it is indeed a fine sight.”
“You saw correctly. I wanted to ask whether that sunset is not beautiful.”
Moyong Gun turned to look at him. His eyes widened slightly.
“Have you grown?”
“My rudeness has always been at the level of the Sacred Heavens Thirteen Seats, hasn’t it?”
“That is not what I meant. You seem a little taller.”
“Do I? I hadn’t noticed.”
Upon closer inspection, he did not appear taller, nor had his frame grown bulkier. Moyong Gun’s gaze deepened. He has become stronger. It was his presence. The denser, richer aura made Yeon Hojeong seem larger than before. I expected him to return having grown, but I never imagined the extent of his progress.
Moyong Gun felt pure admiration for Yeon Hojeong’s current realm.
After Yeon Hojeong left the Martial Alliance, Moyong Gun had thrown himself into bone-grinding training. No—after clashing with the warriors of the Shinwha Sect, he had driven himself with terrifying intensity. He could not accept that the martial arts of those lowly barbarians from the frontier had surpassed his own.
Training that risked his life every single day. Through extreme cultivation, Moyong Gun had grown significantly compared to before.
Yet when measured by scale of growth, he still fell short of Yeon Hojeong.
“Now it is truly difficult to speak of victory or defeat.”
“Between us?”
“Indeed.”
“It wasn’t like that before, was it?”
“It was not.”
He spoke sincerely. Assuming a life-or-death battle with no external variables, he had once been confident of his certain victory.
But now things were different.
The gap between them had narrowed until it was almost imperceptible. They had reached a realm where victory or defeat could be decided in a single instant of choice, beyond mere power or speed. He is truly terrifying.
Moyong Gun’s eyes grew colder as he regarded Yeon Hojeong.
With that talent and effort, he had predicted the young man would become a master worthy of discussing the world within ten years. But seeing him now, even ten years seemed too generous. It looked as though he could reach the pinnacle of the world in five.
Of course, the road ahead would be far more painful than all previous hardships combined.
“Has it already begun?”
“Hm?”
“It looks like icicles might sprout from your eyes. Do you want to devour me that badly?”
Moyong Gun smiled.
“If I could devour a man like you, it would be something worth bragging about to my juniors.”
Yeon Hojeong gave a short laugh.
“Don’t forget. Neither of us is ready to devour the other yet. Don’t focus so much on your opponent that you lose everything when the real storm arrives.”
He was speaking of the Three Sects.
Moyong Gun shook his head.
“I must settle my score with you separately. I dislike noise at the decisive moment. First we deal with the problem before our eyes.”
“A sound approach.”
Though he said so, Yeon Hojeong did not believe him.
From the beginning, this was not a fight where the words “fair and square” had any place. Neither he nor Moyong Gun were men who would stake their lives on a clean battle. It begins again.
One benefit of facing Moyong Gun was how naturally the man made him tense.
Yeon Hojeong smiled.
“Have you eaten?”
“I turned down a discussion with the strategist so I could eat with you.”
“The strategist will be jealous.”
“If the strategist feels jealousy toward you, then he is no ordinary man. If it were me, I doubt I would feel any.”
“You’ve changed a lot, giving such compliments after seeing me again after so long.”
“Enough nonsense. Shall we move? We ought to wash away our feelings with wine.”
Yeon Hojeong laughed coldly.
“Yes. We should wash them away with wine.”
With blood kin, they used the sword. With enemies, they used wine.
Indeed. This was the world they lived in.