Chapter 138
Chapter 138
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 138
Chapter Title: Savoring Maotai
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“This is it.”
Cheonhwi tilted his wine cup and smiled.
The taste of the overflowing liquor was exquisite.
And rightly so. The drink now filling his cup was a rare vintage.
Maotai.
A fine brew renowned for its prominent sauce aroma, smooth texture, and lingering aftertaste.
It's been a while since I last had this.
The corners of his mouth slackened, his smile deepening.
Mountain delicacies paired with precious Maotai.
The combination was more than enough to loosen his lips.
“Delicious.”
Cheonhwi's chopsticks moved faster, and the liquor dwindled rapidly in tandem.
“……”
Across from him, Yang Jogang stared in disbelief before shaking his head.
Maotai was a precious vintage.
Even the Shinchang Yang Clan, with its deep ties to the military, had only a few bottles.
Yet he'd brought it out with great resolve for his benefactor, only for the man to show no surprise—rather, familiarity.
As if he'd drunk it many times before.
Just who is he?
He withdrew his gaze and turned to Paeng Cheolwi.
They resumed their paused conversation.
“What are your plans after recovery? Returning to the Sichuan Tang Clan?”
Paeng Cheolwi glanced at the other later-generation disciples.
“I'm afraid I can't give a firm answer just yet. If it's alright, may we gather everyone's opinions and inform you later?”
Yang Jogang looked at him in surprise.
Most would never dream of venturing back into the jianghu after such an ordeal.
Yet their reactions suggested they wished to return.
“You seem eager to go.”
“That's my personal view.”
“Even after all that?”
“My father told me the jianghu has always been like this.”
Paeng Cheolwi's eyes settled calmly.
“Haha, as expected of the Paeng Clan.”
Yang Jogang laughed heartily.
But the mirth faded quickly as he worked his lips.
“Still, you must struggle to survive at all costs.”
His eyes fixed on Paeng Cheolwi.
“Death leaves nothing behind. Fame earned, martial prowess gained—all vanishes in an instant... Especially for one as promising as you. Surviving alone allows greater achievements later. Why court death?”
A low voice.
Yet the weight of his words slowly pressed down on the room.
Even Cheonhwi paused his drinking briefly.
Strong.
Cheonhwi's eyes sharpened.
An ally to trust, an enemy to eliminate first.
Silence fell.
The later-generation disciples, in particular, internalized Yang Jogang's words with closed eyes.
Moments later, Paeng Cheolwi cupped his fists.
“I will engrave your advice deep in my heart.”
“Good.”
Yang Jogang chuckled softly.
The heavy atmosphere lightened slightly.
“So consider it carefully. Even the Dragon-Phoenix Meet needn't be attended. If you can't go, stay here at our clan.”
“Understood.”
“If you still wish to go to the Tang Clan, just say so. I'll assign escorts.”
Flowers bloomed on the faces of Paeng Cheolwi and the others.
“Thank you.”
“Haha, no need. It's only natural among fellow conference attendees.”
Yang Jogang waved it off.
“Anyway, I've talked too long. Let's eat.”
With that, the meal resumed in a warm, cheerful mood.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ “Yawn.”
Cheonhwi, lying on his bed, yawned at the sunlight filtering through the window.
Fifth day at the Shinchang Yang Clan.
He'd savored this life more than anyone.
Should I stay a bit longer?
He'd planned three or four days, but enchanted by the lifestyle, he delayed his departure, rolling about on the bed.
And deservedly so. As promised, Yang Seoryeong delivered lavish feasts daily, with utmost hospitality.
Not only that.
The clan's retainers catered to his every whim.
From their perspective, he was the savior of Yang Seoryeong.
Just then, the door opened.
“Great hero.”
Yang Seoryeong entered naturally.
Visiting daily, she set the bowl in her hand beside him.
“I brought some candied fruits. Care for some?”
“Candied fruits? Sure.”
Cheonhwi glanced at the bowl, then plucked colorful pieces with his left hand.
They melted smoothly in his mouth.
A hint of salt inside made the finish sweetly savory—perfect.
“These are good.”
“Glad you like them. I'll bring more next time.”
She smiled gently.
“Anything else you need?”
“Not right now.”
“How about liquor? I got a special vintage...”
Yang Seoryeong said perceptively.
Four days of daily visits had revealed a few things.
One: he enjoyed tea but preferred drinking alone.
Even in broad daylight.
And as expected, Cheonhwi's eyes lit up.
“What kind?”
“From the western regions...”
Meanwhile, two passersby watched the scene.
Jeogal Seungho and Moyong Sang.
He's got it made everywhere he goes.
Jeogal Seungho gave a wry smile.
Actually, they'd been in the main hall when Hwangbo Sohyeon arrived, slipping out tactfully.
Paeng Cheolwi and Hwangbo Sohyeon had grown close—practically lovers, save for the title.
I wonder if he's alright.
Jeogal Seungho glanced at Moyong Sang.
The others didn't know, but Jeogal Seungho was aware of Moyong Sang's secret affection for Yang Seoryeong.
He watched her far more than others.
“They seem close.”
Surprisingly, he said it calmly.
Jeogal Seungho stared in astonishment.
“You okay?”
“Pardon?”
“I thought you liked Miss Yang.”
“Haha, so you knew despite my efforts to hide it.”
Moyong Sang scratched his head.
“Don't worry. I gave up early. As if I could squeeze between them.”
Jeogal Seungho's eyes widened at the candid admission.
Moyong Sang wasn't like this before...
A remarkable change.
He'd once strutted on family prestige, but this journey transformed him greatly.
Not just him, though.
He chuckled.
He himself, and all the later-generation disciples, had changed since the start.
“Miss Yang has it rough, though.”
Moyong Sang said, watching them.
She showered attention; he seemed indifferent.
A stark contrast.
Capturing him wouldn't be easy.
Suddenly recalling something, Moyong Sang flinched and asked Jeogal Seungho carefully.
“...Was I like that too?”
“Haha.”
Jeogal Seungho laughed awkwardly.
The affirmative drew an awkward smile from Moyong Sang too.
“Sigh. Figures you'd notice.”
“The others didn't.”
“Small mercies.”
As they laughed,
“Everyone's here?”
“Why'd you slip out suddenly?”
Paeng Cheolwi arrived with Hwangbo Sohyeon.
“Out quicker than expected. Thought you'd stay together...”
Jeogal Seungho trailed off meaningfully, eyeing them alternately.
“Done talking?”
Paeng Cheolwi nodded.
“Miss Hwangbo's leaving too.”
“I'm going as well.”
They smiled at each other.
Jeogal Seungho grinned.
“Why come all this way?”
“Hahaha, just wanted to see the great hero before departing.”
“Paeng... Ah! No, Young Master Paeng wanted to bid the great hero farewell before leaving.”
Jeogal Seungho and Moyong Sang smirked at her slip.
“Hmm, is that so?”
“Haha, nice weather.”
Paeng Cheolwi and Hwangbo Sohyeon's faces flushed crimson.
They fanned their heated cheeks.
Amused, Jeogal Seungho and Moyong Sang grinned.
“Then we'll join you.”
“I should greet the great hero too.”
“Alright.”
Paeng Cheolwi, unable to hide his red ears, walked side by side with Hwangbo Sohyeon.
Watching their backs, Jeogal Seungho smiled softly unwittingly.
Never thought we'd grow this close.
A novel feeling.
Without the Sun-Moon Sect's raid, this bond wouldn't exist.
A relationship forged by coincidences upon coincidences.
Heaven's fortune, in other words...
Fate?
A joy felt after ages.
For once, grateful to my brother.
Soon, they reached the annex.
Upon seeing Cheonhwi, they immediately cupped fists in thanks.
“Thanks to you, great hero, we survived.”
“Thank you.”
“It wasn't free. Pay me back later.”
They widened their eyes at his words, then smiled.
His demand for repayment eased their minds.
“We'll prepare something special for your future visit.”
“I'll tell my clan too.”
Cheonhwi half-listened, munching candied fruits.
Mmm, tasty.
Then Paeng Cheolwi approached cautiously.
“Great hero. If possible, could I receive a lesson?”
Hwangbo Sohyeon and Yang Seoryeong's eyes widened slightly at his earnest plea.
Cheonhwi swallowed his candy.
“A lesson?”
“Yes.”
“Hm, you want a spar?”
Paeng Cheolwi's eyes bulged.
He'd sought mere pointers, not a full spar.
A windfall rolling in.
“I'd be grateful.”
Unable to hide his joy, Cheonhwi pondered briefly.
Paeng Clan martial arts...
Intriguing.
Plus, among these middling lot, Paeng Cheolwi was the most usable.
Seemed fine.
But he wouldn't make it easy.
“My lessons are expensive.”
He dropped casually.
“...Anything you desire?”
“None now...”
Cheonhwi grinned.
“Just grant my request later?”
“Agreed.”
Paeng Cheolwi accepted without hesitation.
Whatever the request, lessons mattered more now.
For my future, I must cross hands with him.
He looked fine outwardly, but inside, he was a mess.
Overwhelmed by Cheonhwi's prowess.
Witnessing it drowned him in defeat and despair.
An unreachable heavenly existence.
Seeing it deepened his sense of loss.
No guarantee a spar would dispel it.
But I have to try.
Twist and turn if needed.
How vast the gap?
Can I catch up?
Paeng Cheolwi's eyes gleamed.
“Please, I beg you.”
Soon, all later-generation disciples gathered in the courtyard.
“Will he be okay?”
Hwangbo Sohyeon fretted, eyeing Paeng Cheolwi.
His external wounds healed, but the opponent was a supreme master.
“It's a spar; he'll go easy.”
“The great hero will hold back.”
Jeogal Seungho and Moyong Sang reassured her calmly.
Meanwhile, Yang Seoryeong murmured.
“...Jealous of Young Master Paeng.”
Enviable indeed.
Sparring a master was a martial artist's serendipity.
“Hoo.”
Paeng Cheolwi inhaled and exhaled deeply, slowly closing then opening his eyes.
A youth gazing down with half-lidded eyes tinged red.
If seen without prior knowledge, one might scorn him.
Black uniform, twin sabers—flashy third-rate at best.
Prejudice is the greatest enemy.
His eyes flashed as he drew his saber.
Longtime companion calming his pounding heart.
“One exchange, please.”
Cheonhwi crooked a finger at him.
“Come.”
A master's concession to an inferior.
Normally pride-wounding, but Paeng Cheolwi knew his place.
What was master from inferior?
A gap far beyond!
“Here I go...”
Paeng Cheolwi unleashed his inner energy.
The subtle energy of the Cosmic Void Divine Art enveloped his saber, manifesting saber qi.
Then his saber swung wide.
An hour into the spar.
Thud!
Cheonhwi recalled the bout while watching the unconscious Paeng Cheolwi and the frantic Hwangbo Sohyeon tending him.
The Ohodanmun Saber hasn't changed.
Three hundred years passed, yet the Ohodanmun Saber remained unaltered.
Is this the level of the Nine Dragons Five Phoenixes?
He glanced at Paeng Cheolwi.
His skill matched Jeokgeom's or slightly below.
But inner energy lagged.
Purely so, two or three levels higher.
A decade's difference.
Should I make more Dark Fragrance Pills?
Mount Hua disciples would foam at the thought.
As Cheonhwi turned,
“Gr... great hero.”
Paeng Cheolwi struggled upright.
He calmed the worried Hwangbo Sohyeon, then cupped fists.
“Thank you for the lesson.”
“Doubt you learned much.”
“Haha, as you say, I was utterly helpless—no chance to learn...
But I gained one thing.”
Strength filled his eyes.
“Someday, I'll reach a level to draw your sword.”
Resolution rang in Paeng Cheolwi's voice.
The moment a new goal emerged for the man who'd wandered aimless since earning 'Blade Dragon'.
Wants to clash with Jeokgeom, huh.
To his liking.
Frank nature, fitting arts.
Pairing with Jeokgeom now would spur mutual growth.
Think on that later.
Paeng Cheolwi bowed.
“Great hero, thank you for everything. We depart tomorrow.”
Cheonhwi waved lazily.
“Safe travels.”
His utter indifference drew a chuckle from Paeng Cheolwi.
Not feigned—genuine disinterest.
Laughing, he cupped fists.
“Visit the Paeng Clan for sure.”
“Naturally.”
Paeng Cheolwi smiled and withdrew.
Hwangbo Sohyeon, behind him, approached shyly.
“I'll await you at my clan.”
Short words, then she retreated.
Moyong Sang cupped fists.
“I'll repay this grace.”
“You better. Planning not to?”
“Haha, never.”
Moyong Sang grinned.
“If you don't come, I'll seek you out to repay it.”
“No need for that.”
Moyong Sang smiled silently and stepped back.
“My turn.”
Jeogal Seungho approached slowly, meeting Cheonhwi's eyes.
“Join us?”
The others gasped.
An unheard proposal.
“Join? You don't even know where I'm headed.”
“True. But I know it's west.”
Jeogal Seungho said steadily.
“Great hero, our destination is the far west of Sichuan: the Tang Clan. Fine to accompany that far, no?”
Cheonhwi eyed him steadily.
His gaze unwavering.
“You heard: Shinchang Yang Clan assigned escorts. Even Sun-Moon Sect won't strike rashly.”
Jeogal Seungho caught his breath.
“If you're heading west anyway, safer and easier together, right?”
Cheonhwi smirked.
Sounded for his benefit, but intentions obvious.
“More like you're safer with me?”
“Exactly.”
Jeogal Seungho admitted readily—no deception.
Fitting the sly fox-like youth; deceit unlikely.
“Still, easier travel. Fine, no?”
Cheonhwi twisted his lips.
“What do you think I'll say?”
Not answering, questioning back—Jeogal Seungho chuckled wryly.
Then languidly,
“'No'.”
Cheonhwi smirked at the mimicry.
These Jeogal guys are funnier than expected.
Overlapping him with Jeogal Seonghyeon briefly, Cheonhwi spoke.
“You know me.”
“Hahaha! Knew it.”
Jeogal Seungho burst into rare hearty laughter.
The others startled.
“Young Master Jeogal?”
“Master Jeogal?”
He stopped abruptly.
Staring straight at Cheonhwi.
“Then, settle it outright?”
“If they come.”
“If not?”
“Ignore now, uproot later.”
“Not now, but later?”
“Priorities first.”
Jeogal Seungho chuckled wryly.
“That confidence to uproot anytime... enviable.”
Astounding.
The foe was Sun-Moon Sect, yet spoken as if disposable.
Unlike me.
Jeogal Seungho smiled bitterly.
Sandwiched between 'Heavenly Dragon' brother and genius sibling, his lacking confidence differed utterly.
Closing and opening eyes, he thought:
People aren't all the same.
Slowly cupping fists.
“Wanted to invite you to my clan, but you wouldn't come anyway.”
Sharp mind.
Cheonhwi laughed; Jeogal Seungho too.
“If fate connects later...”
Like a farewell, he etched Cheonhwi in his eyes.
A peer in age.
Yet incomparable depths.
“Hope we meet again.”
Cheonhwi chuckled.
Fate? Already linked.
Jeogal Seonghyeon and Jeogal retainers at Mount Hua.
“Sure.”
Jeogal Seungho withdrew.
Yang Seoryeong remained.
“Then we'll be off.”
The later-generation disciples prepared to leave.
Yang Seoryeong bid them farewell.
“Safe travels.”
“Take care, Miss Yang.”
“I'll visit later, sister.”
“We won't forget Shinchang Yang Clan's aid.”
“I'll ensure my clan knows your great help.”
Eh? She's not going?
As they departed the annex, only Cheonhwi and Yang Seoryeong remained.
Feeling his gaze while waving, she puzzled, then:
“Ah!”
Realizing,
“I'm not going.”
Yang Seoryeong smiled.
“Father forbade the Dragon-Phoenix Meet after the raid. I no longer wish to anyway.”
She smiled wryly.
Her first proper jianghu excursion.
Turned a nightmare of blood and pain.
Jianghu held no appeal for now.
“More importantly, great hero.”
Yang Seoryeong approached cautiously.
“Could I spar too?”
Cheonhwi eyed her clutching the three-section staff dearly.
A request he'd normally refuse.
But I've lounged comfortably.
Enjoying Shinchang life, Cheonhwi nodded.
“Sure.”
“Really?”
Her face brightened.
A Hail Mary accepted unexpectedly.
“W-wait a sec.”
She hastily tied her hair with a cord, eyes gleaming.
“Ready.”
Cheonhwi met her expectant gaze, rising calmly.
Somewhat curious.
Now called Shinchang Yang Clan in jianghu, unknown in his past life.
Back then, deeper military ties.
Two hundred years since shifting to jianghu from military roots?
Impressive growth.
Two centuries long, but for a clan, recent.
Clans often spanned five centuries.
Yet this upstart claimed Eight Great Clans status.
Proof of superior heritage arts.
And why 'Shinchang' specifically...
A faint smile flickered on Cheonhwi's lips, vanishing instantly.
Not the patriarch, a pity.
His smile twisted.
Since I'm here, might as well see.