Chapter 45
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 45
Chapter Title: The Standard of Cuteness is Subjective
-----------------------------------------------------------------
In this vast land of the Central Plains, fortunately, Shaanxi and Hubei were right next to each other. Well, that’s probably why they had regular exchanges.
It was a contradiction that they had no such interactions with Zhongnan, which was in the same Shaanxi Province.
Still, because the land was so expansive, even being adjacent meant the distance was quite considerable.
The several days of forced marching had tired my young body quite a bit, but the scenery of the outside world—properly taking it in from the palanquin—was so fresh that excitement outweighed the fatigue.
I barely remembered Hwayeom County from before, thanks to those damn kidnappers.
Maybe because of the kidnapping attempt two months ago, Uihyeon had no intention of letting go of my hand. Uiseong was the same.
Sandwiched between two six-foot-tall adult men, I was practically being dragged along, so forget scenery—I could only see the back of the person in front.
That’s why when the two of them were called ahead for some business, it was my chance to finally take in the outside world freely.
“This is rebellion.”
Grumbling sullenly at the hand gripping the back of my collar—making sure I couldn’t veer off despite Uihyeon’s earnest warnings and pleas.
“If you just look straight ahead and walk properly, there’d be no rebellion.”
“I was looking straight ahead and walking.”
“Does someone looking straight ahead veer off to the side alone? Get lost here, and you’ll be a lost child in no time.”
I gripped the wrist of the hand pressing down on my head. Glancing back with a slight turn, instead of a face, a chest came into view. I had to crane my neck up to barely see the face.
Bihwan, who’d turned thirteen this year, was a full head taller than me at nine.
With a sigh, Bihwan released his hand and straightened my collar.
“No matter how long it’s been since you’ve been out of the palace, is the scenery that fascinating that you lose your focus like that? Especially after what happened outside.”
“This isn’t Shaanxi—it’s a completely different region. Aren’t you amazed?”
“Not really. I’m originally from Hubei.”
The nonchalant reply contained quite unexpected information, so I blinked.
“Really? Then why didn’t you join Wudang and came to Mount Hua instead?”
At my question, Bihwan subtly averted his gaze, pretending otherwise.
Covering my grinning mouth with my palm, I asked for confirmation.
“You failed the entrance exam, huh?”
“……”
Bihwan’s tightly shut mouth and flushed red face was affirmation enough for anyone to see.
‘I get why he was laying the groundwork for defeat now.’
No way—failing Wudang’s entrance after surviving Mount Hua’s Selection Hell?
Was he a victim of Wudang’s entrance exam corruption, or did he fail Wudang’s, grit his teeth for a year, and then pass Mount Hua’s Selection Hell?
I’d prefer the former. I didn’t want to admit Mount Hua’s Selection Hell was inferior to Wudang’s.
When I stopped laughing and gave him a sullen look, Bihwan asked with a face full of irritation.
“Don’t you dare lose. I’d get more pissed if you did.”
“I’m already tense, so don’t add pressure.”
“If you lose, let’s do a hundred sparring matches. Won’t that fire you up?”
“That’s just good for me.”
“Ugh, then win, damn it.”
A shout that we were almost there cut short our brotherly banter, and I looked up ahead. A massive mountain loomed before us.
It was Wudang Mountain in Jun County, Hubei Province—the Wudang Sect’s headquarters.
“Definitely less steep than Mount Hua.”
I gave a brief impression as we climbed the neatly paved stairs.
Not all mountain paths had stairs as steep and slippery as Mount Hua’s slide.
What we were climbing now was Wudang Mountain’s Tianzhu Peak.
Also called Zixiao Peak, its summit held the Wudang Sect’s main base, Zixiao Palace.
“It’d be nice if Mount Hua had stairs this convenient too.”
“Doubt it. Mount Hua’s a rocky mountain.”
The third-generation disciples chatted idly behind the adults striding up the stairs, diligently climbing.
With Uigang leisurely following behind us, there was no worry of falling behind or taking a wrong path and getting stranded at another sect’s headquarters.
The massive mountain gate, which had looked like a dot in the distance, gradually drew near.
Before Wudang’s mountain gate was a small pond crossed by a bridge.
On a rock in front of the pond were carved the characters for its name.
Sword-Releasing Pool.
Out of respect for Wudang’s founder, Zhang Sanfeng, and courtesy toward the sect, all visitors had to leave their swords and weapons at the Sword-Releasing Pool before crossing the bridge.
I couldn’t fathom why we had to disarm to honor another sect’s founder when it wasn’t even our own sect’s opening ancestor.
And anyway, wouldn’t Wudang disciples be the ones bringing back the swords we left? Seems like it’d erase any respect for their founder while they laboriously haul them.
Well, that’s what I’d think. Of course, there’d be weirdos who’d use the task to reaffirm their reverence for their founder.
Watching the adults casually disarm and set down their swords, I nudged Biwon beside me.
“What if we don’t leave our sword here and take it in?”
“Right? Now I’m curious. Shall we try?”
Biwon’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as he slyly picked up his discarded sword.
“Don’t. That’d cause trouble.”
Startled by the stern voice from behind, Biwon whipped around and dropped the sword.
“Gasp, Mount Hua’s Greatest Sword…!”
“Ah, you scared me. I didn’t know Elder Muyeong came along too.”
At the mention of Mount Hua’s Greatest Sword, I hurriedly turned, spotting Jinyul with arms crossed, looking down at us, and patted my surprised chest.
Jinyul had come down from her training peak after quite a while to attend the Dragon-Tiger Assembly.
Even I hadn’t seen her much since she became an elder and inherited the title of Mount Hua’s Greatest Sword, what with all her escort duties and training.
“But why would it cause trouble?”
“You must observe etiquette between sects. Entering the Sword-Releasing Pool with a sword is no different from trampling Wudang’s pride.”
As Jinyul finished speaking, Biwon timidly apologized after placing the sword where the others were gathered.
“I’m sorry….”
Seeing his dejected posture, Jinyul scratched her head and asked me.
“Did I say it too harshly…? The kid’s spirit is totally crushed.”
“Leave him be. It’s because he got scolded by the Mount Hua’s Greatest Sword he reveres.”
“Oh, right…. I am Mount Hua’s Greatest Sword…. People still calling me that makes me think they’re calling for my master.”
I nodded in agreement at her face, still unaccustomed to it.
“I feel awkward hearing you called Mount Hua’s Greatest Sword too, Elder.”
Honestly, “Elder” felt awkward too. In my memories, I’d always called her Jinyul unnie.
Crossing the Sword-Releasing Pool brought us right to a grand mountain gate with a plaque.
Beyond the wide-open gate, Wudang Sect disciples were gathered, awaiting us.
Spotting a long-haired handsome man smiling slightly at Uiseong and greeting him, I poked Uiseong’s side.
“Oh, your martial uncle’s friend.”
“Not a friend, I said.”
Uiseong recoiled and pressed down hard on my head. Tch, strong denial is affirmation, they say.
While our Sect Leader exchanged greetings with Wudang’s Sect Leader, I felt unusually intense stares directed at me and subtly hid behind the burly Uigang.
What was this burdensome attention?
Bihwan, who’d hidden behind Uigang a step ahead of me, whispered lowly.
“Martial brother, did you do something four years ago? Why’s everyone staring at you?”
“Huh? Nothing much.”
Just some trash talk returned with trash talk, autonomously holding a mini Dragon-Tiger Assembly to beat up a guy who picked a fight with me, and accidentally giving booze to a parachute who couldn’t adapt and was struggling—that’s it.
At my answer, Uiseong gave me a look screaming he had tons to say but wouldn’t.
After the meeting, guided to the reception building, we unpacked and sprawled out immediately. Our swords were neatly placed in the lodging for third-generation disciples.
“My cutie pie! I missed you!”
As I hugged my sword and talked to it, Biryeong came over, grabbed his sword with a clatter, and clicked his tongue.
“Growing up among sword-crazed lunatics turns you into that.”
“Why? I’m fine.”
Cherishingly adjusting my sword in my arms, I countered, and Biryeong suddenly asked.
“Between a cat and a sword, which is cuter?”
“Sword.”
“See? Even you’re crazy, martial brother.”
As I bellowed that I wasn’t crazy, Bihwan deftly plugged my mouth with a candy from the table. Then, inspecting his own sword this way and that, he muttered.
“But… isn’t it kinda cute?”
“…Who? No way, our grand martial brother?”
“Are you nuts? The sword’s cute!”
At Biwon’s disgusted expression and cautious question, Bihwan kicked him and yelled.
Such fierce denial and revulsion—too much in front of people, isn’t it? Our nine-year-old grand martial brother, the youngest by age, could be cute.
“Everyone’s steadily going mad.”
Biryeong coldly assessed the bickering pair and the martial siblings searching their swords for cuteness.
Then—bang—the door flew open, and Uijin entered. Surveying the mess, he tsked and shoved us.
“Instead of fighting among yourselves, go ask the Wudang kids to show you around Zixiao Palace and make friends.”
“Uwaaa, we wanna rest!”
“Yeah! We’re really tired, martial uncle!”
“I didn’t raise you to be so frail. Those two fighting look plenty energetic.”
And that’s exactly why we third-generation disciples from Mount Hua were now facing off against Wudang’s third-generation disciples like we were about to brawl.
Why do adults think kids around the same age can easily become friends just because?
Don’t they know for kids our age, fighting is faster than bonding? And they’d scold us if we actually brawled with Wudang’s third-gen disciples.