Chapter 64: Water Too Clear Has No Fish (12)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 64: Water Too Clear Has No Fish (12)
The Overrated One, No Hee-deok, cursed his own ambiguous talent.
He had been born with an exceptional physique.
It was so remarkable that when he was only ten years old, a Daoist from the Diancang Sect passing through Guangdong Province had stopped in his tracks, exclaiming in admiration.
“What an excellent physique! His limbs are long and straight—a perfect build for our sect’s Sun-Shooting Sword Technique!”
But his potential was only just enough to make the Daoist click his tongue in disappointment a moment later.
“Tsk. But his bones are too slender. Everything else is perfect, but I do not know if he can withstand the strain of our sect’s Sun-Shooting Sword Technique.”
In the end, the Diancang Daoist made a proposal to No Hee-deok’s parents.
“I shall take this child and raise him. However, I cannot promise to make him my disciple. Depending on his achievements, he could become my direct disciple and learn the True Mountain Ultimate Art, or he could simply remain an outer disciple. It all depends on what the boy makes of himself.”
No Hee-deok’s parents didn’t hesitate for a moment, immediately entrusting their son to the Daoist’s care.
For a poor peasant family, having one less mouth to feed made a world of difference. More importantly, the Diancang Sect of Yunnan was a Daoist school renowned throughout the land. Even simple farmers from Guangdong knew its name.
An outer disciple of such a place? He could live a life of influence as a local celebrity. It was a case of a dragon rising from a muddy stream. There was nothing to think about.
Of course, they had heard that the path of martial arts was terrifyingly arduous, but the life of a country farmer wasn't exactly a walk in the park, either. It was a life of being carried off by wolves, torn apart by tigers and bears, or preyed upon by passing Black Path marauders and corrupt officials.
“Hee-deok. Just stay healthy. That’s all that matters.”
“That’s right. Just finish your training in good health. Then, better days will be waiting for you.”
No Hee-deok’s parents cooked him a warm meal, packed him a bundle of new clothes, and saw him off, praying fervently that his future would be different from their own sorrowful fate.
As it turned out, his parents’ prediction was correct. By becoming a disciple of the Diancang Sect, his status soared. A dragon had indeed risen from the stream; the son of a peasant farmer had become a true martial artist capable of commanding a region. It was a tremendous rise in station.
But from No Hee-deok’s perspective, things couldn’t have been more different.
I have to become a True Mountain Disciple…!
The Diancang Daoist brought No Hee-deok to his residence, had the boy attend to his needs, and offered him private lessons. Compared to a typical outer disciple, it was exceptional treatment. Usually, outer disciples lived in mass dormitories, receiving martial arts instruction together according to a rigid schedule.
The treatment No Hee-deok received was, therefore, similar to that of the Diancang Sect’s direct disciples—the True Mountain Disciples.
But he wasn’t truly one of them.
“More than anything, you must learn to control your power with absolute precision. If you can control your strength without a sliver of waste or a hint of wavering, you will be able to master the Sun-Shooting Sword Technique despite your weak constitution. Only then will I take you as my direct disciple and make you a True Mountain Disciple of Diancang.”
An ambiguous talent. He was good enough that he could become a True Mountain Disciple, but not so good that it was guaranteed.
On that razor-thin borderline, No Hee-deok relentlessly honed his skills, day after day.
One day, the Daoist said, “Your skills have improved greatly. If you continue to strive like this, you will be worthy of becoming my direct disciple by next year.”
No Hee-deok was twenty years old at the time. Exactly ten years had passed since he had come to Diancang. Considering that most direct disciples were chosen around the age of fifteen or sixteen, it was incredibly late.
But neither No Hee-deok nor his master had given up on each other over those long years, and at last, the end was in sight. Smiles graced both their lips.
CRACK!
Just then, the Daoist drew his sword and split a massive boulder. The surface of the sundered rock was as smooth as a mirror.
“This is the path you must pursue. If your sword can split a boulder as smoothly as this, you can become one of the finest swordsmen in Diancang, even with your frail constitution.”
It was a distant, lofty realm of skill. But No Hee-deok swore he would reach it, even if it took another ten or twenty years.
Four months later, the Daoist who had brought him there fought a Demonic Cultivator and was killed.
“…”
No Hee-deok was left as a mere outer disciple of the Diancang Sect. It was too late to become the direct disciple of another master. He was twenty-one. Eleven years after ascending the mountain, he came back down.
As he descended, he cursed his own ambiguous talent.
If only he had been a little more talented, he could have become a True Mountain Disciple. Then he, too, might have reached that heavenly realm.
Conversely, if only he had been a little less talented, he might never have looked up at the sky in the first place. He could have learned to be content on the ground.
It was all because of this middle-ground talent. His eyes were fixed on the heavens, but his heavy body was forced to crawl upon the earth. Every single moment felt like hell.
That was why, whenever he saw the martial artists in his homeland of Guangdong, a firestorm of rage would erupt within him. These country martial artists had never once in their lives seen what was "real." They were arrogant despite their mediocre skills. They marveled at common talent and were busy heaping praise on one another.
With skills of that paltry level. With talent of that meager degree.
His insides twisted into knots. When he came to his senses, No Hee-deok would already be approaching them, striking up a conversation with a mocking smile.
“Truly incredible! I am so dull-witted I have yet to master even the basics! I truly envy you.”
No Hee-deok knew that his moniker had become "The Overrated One." He knew what kind of reputation he had among the people of the Jianghu. But he just couldn’t stand it.
They might be country martial artists, but were they not martial artists all the same? Shouldn’t they be pursuing a realm as high as the heavens? Were they content to crawl on the ground, never leaving their well, deluding themselves into thinking they were on the right path?
He just… couldn’t stand the sight of them.
“These fake martial artists…”
He wandered like that for ten years through the Guangdong Murim. And then, for the first time, he met one.
“It still… hasn’t withered.”
Sitting at the desk in his room, No Hee-deok stared intently at a single leaf. It was the leaf that Yeon So-wol, the rising young expert of the Guangdong Murim, had sliced off a few days ago.
The leaf had still not withered. It was as if the plant itself hadn't realized it had been cut. Faced with that quiet, sharp harmony, a shiver ran down No Hee-deok’s spine.
“So it exists. A true master. Even here in Guangdong…”
In his eyes, sorrow and elation swirled in a dizzying mix.
*
The martial assembly in Xinxing County, led by Lee Yu-baek, continued amidst the clamor.
“The criteria for selecting the Squad Leaders was not just skill, but trust above all,” Lee Yu-baek explained. “We formed the groups with people who know each other well enough to keep one another in check. The Mount Cheonro bandits are cunning. They will use any means necessary to learn our plans in advance. To prevent that, we needed squads formed of people who are close-knit and can exert influence on one another.”
“So in the end, you’re saying the Squad Leaders are all just your friends?” a voice shouted. “I get the general idea, but isn’t that a bit harsh on those of us who came all this way with good intentions?”
“I can certainly see why you would think that,” Lee Yu-baek replied. “However, countless lives are at stake. Even if it seems forceful, we had to set the stage in a way that allows us to fight with peace of mind. I ask for your understanding.”
“I understand, but I’m not about to fight under someone else’s command. What do you say to that?”
“I fully understand. Those who do not wish to be part of a squad may act independently as they see fit. As long as you participate in the subjugation, I, Lee Yu-baek, will reward you with all my heart.”
“You want us to act alone when it’s one army against another? How can we fight properly like that? Instead, let us form our own squad.”
Lee Yu-baek’s voice became firm. “That will not be permitted. If everyone starts forming their own separate squads, the very purpose of selecting these thirty official squads will be undermined.”
“Then make us an official squad! I don’t think I’m lacking in any way to be a Squad Leader!”
“That is…”
Lee Yu-baek felt a bitter pang in his gut. He had anticipated this. He had even decided in advance how far he would be willing to compromise if things didn’t go smoothly. But now that the moment had come, he couldn't help the frustration.
The Mount Cheonro bandits were cunning. To deal with them, absolute security was essential. They needed to catch the enemy off guard to have a chance of wiping them out in one fell swoop. One misstep, and the bandits could scatter, rendering the entire subjugation moot—or worse, they could be lured into a trap.
But if the number of Squad Leaders who shared strategic information increased, their security would inevitably become more vulnerable.
Still, it can’t be helped… I haven’t gained enough influence to simply steamroll these complaints.
He had no choice but to concede. Just as Lee Yu-baek was about to force the reluctant words from his mouth, a voice spoke up.
“Senior. Would it be alright if I, a humble junior of the Jianghu, dared to say a word?”
Yeon So-wol, who had been standing quietly behind Lee Yu-baek, suddenly raised his voice. All eyes turned to him. They saw Yeon So-wol, flanked by Lee Yu-baek’s three disciples—Kang Mu-hyeok, Seon Je-hun, and Mo Cheong.
From their expressions, Lee Yu-baek knew his disciples had encouraged Yeon So-wol to step forward. They were trying to leverage the boy's recently elevated fame.
Hmm… This won’t be easy.
Although Yeon So-wol’s fame was high, he was still just a rising star. He might have earned the goodwill of the veterans, but not yet their respect. That was Lee Yu-baek’s assessment. With that level of standing, an interruption like this might even cause a backlash. Worry clouded Lee Yu-baek’s eyes.
“Just because one acts alone doesn’t mean they can’t fight effectively,” Yeon So-wol continued. “On the contrary, in a battle between large groups, wouldn’t those acting alone be able to react with more flexibility and speed? For that reason, I and the three direct disciples of the Pungryu Martial Arts Hall have all resolved to act independently. We will prove that acting alone is not a discarded card, but an opportunity.”
Lee Yu-baek frowned slightly. This is not good.
The gist of the argument was: Acting alone isn’t bad, because we’re going to do it too. It had a fatal flaw. What is he going to do if they just say, ‘And who do you think you are?’
Neither Yeon So-wol nor Kang Mu-hyeok had earned enough respect in the Guangdong Murim to make such a claim. It was a situation that could easily be perceived as a greenhorn junior arrogantly interrupting his seniors.
Just as Lee Yu-baek felt a sense of dread, voices rose from the crowd.
“Young Hero Yeon So-wol is going to act alone?”
“If Young Hero Yeon is acting alone, then I’m on board!”
“That’s right. For those with skill, it will be an opportunity.”
“Exactly! A true man should have that kind of spirit! As expected of Yeon Seon-hong’s son!”
“If you really don’t want to act alone, can’t you just join one of the thirty official squads? Do you really have to form a separate squad with your own friends? That seems a bit petty, doesn’t it?”
The martial artists who had remained silent until now raised their voices in unison, lending their support to Yeon So-wol.
What is this?
These were not the martial artists Lee Yu-baek had won over beforehand. And yet, they were passionately helping Yeon So-wol.
“So-wol…?” Lee Yu-baek turned around, stunned.
At that moment, Yeon So-wol was surveying the faces of the martial artists offering him such fervent support.
Everyone…!
The first to speak up had been Seong An-jin. Just as he had promised Yeon So-wol at the Jipseong River, he gave his full support. And those who followed were all people who had been nearby during the commotion with No Hee-deok. With the same goodwill they had shown then, they now lent their strength to Yeon So-wol’s words.
A faint smile crept onto Yeon So-wol’s lips. To think they’d really help me like this!
He turned to Lee Yu-baek and answered proudly. “I, too… have prepared a play of my own.”
At that answer, a shiver ran down Lee Yu-baek’s spine. So-wol. You… not only in martial arts…
The boy absorbed everything his master taught him and turned it all into results. Lee Yu-baek took a deep breath and gave a firm nod. With the people Lee Yu-baek had recruited and the people who supported Yeon So-wol combined, their numbers now far exceeded the majority. The mood had decisively shifted.
But the voices of discontent did not completely die down. Martial artists were, by nature, a prideful and loud bunch.
“No. At the very least, can’t the Squad Leaders be chosen more fairly? Let’s have a martial contest!”
“That’s right! While I understand the need for trust… it’s still a bit much. Aren’t you just saying you don’t trust us?”
Despite the shift in atmosphere, some were determined to press the issue. There were skilled martial artists present who felt their pride would be wounded if they couldn't even secure a leadership position.
It was at that very moment a man raised his voice.
“Weren’t the ones chosen as Squad Leaders selected because they have the requisite skill? The dull-witted and lacking, like myself, should rightly join as squad members or act separately.”
Thud. Thud.
A man, cradling a sword in his arms, slowly walked forward. The martial artists of Guangdong who recognized him began to whisper.
“The Overrated One!”
“No Hee-deok… I heard he’s an expert on the verge of the Peak Realm!”
Hearing the whispers, No Hee-deok shook his head. “On the verge of the Peak Realm? I am still a long way off. Would you like to see?”
Shing—
Without warning, he drew his sword in the middle of the crowd.
CRRRRACK!
The sword moved at an invisible speed. Thwack! He sheathed it again instantly.
“…”
Everyone was at a loss for words. A straight line of paving stones on the road had been split open, as neat as if they had been chiseled and polished. Even for a swordsman who had reached the latter stages of the First-Rate, not everyone could display such ghostly skill. It was a sublime strike that most people here had never witnessed in their entire lives.
Before them, No Hee-deok lamented.
“You see? My master said the cross-section should be like a mirror. And his sword truly was. But what of mine? It is merely straight, the surface dull and reflecting nothing. With skills as lacking as these, I would not dare take the position of Squad Leader. Wouldn’t you agree?”
He asked this as he met the eyes of one person after another. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
He was looking directly at the ones who had been arguing for leadership positions.
“Ahem…”
“Hmph…”
They all cleared their throats and avoided No Hee-deok’s gaze. At last, all dissent subsided, and the martial assembly was united in purpose.
Great Hero No Hee-deok… helped us?
Yeon So-wol couldn’t quite understand the situation. He had thought No Hee-deok would hold a grudge against him, not show goodwill.
Just then, No Hee-deok’s eyes met Yeon So-wol’s for a moment. He gave a slight, respectful bow. It was filled with deep sincerity.
“So-wol?” Seeing this, a startled Lee Yu-baek turned to look at his disciple.
Yeon So-wol was flustered. “Uh. I… I’m not sure either. Could it be that he… sees me in a favorable light?”
The ways of the Jianghu were sometimes truly difficult to comprehend. Yeon So-wol could only blink in surprise before hurriedly bowing his head back at No Hee-deok.
A faint smile touched No Hee-deok’s lips.