Chapter 52
Chapter 52
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Translator: penny
Chapter Title: Vacation. And Interviews (1)
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Vacation day had dawned.
The students split into two groups: one lined up at the grand training grounds, the other at the Bronze Hall gate.
Chu Un-hwi had been summoned to the gate.
With an unusually high number of students wanting to leave for vacation, it was Hall Master Chung-hyun's order to provide support.
Dong-dong-dong-dong.
As the deep drumbeats echoed from the tower above the gate, the gate guards waved blue flags vigorously.
“Divine Martial Academy. Bronze Hall.”
Dong-dong-dong-dong.
“Open the gates!”
Dong-dong-dong-dong.
The drumbeats quickened, and the gatekeepers removed the heavy bars from the iron gates before swinging them open.
“Come on, put your backs into it!”
“What are you doing? More strength!”
“Heave! Heave!”
The massive iron gates, thirty feet high, began to inch open under the straining efforts of the gate guards pushing the pulleys from both sides.
Dong-dong-dong-dong.
And finally, as the colossal gates started to slide back.
Through the widening gap, a vast crowd waiting outside came into view.
When the gates were fully open.
“Waaaaah!”
A tremendous cheer erupted from beyond the gates in unison.
At the same time, the students stomped their feet and shouted.
“Wow. Dad came himself.”
“Mom. I missed you.”
“Vacation's really here now.”
The younger students couldn't hide their excitement at the sight of their families beyond the gates.
Bronze Hall forbade outings after entry, except in exceptional cases.
The prospect of their first outing in half a year—and seeing family— was enough to thrill the young trainees.
Looking around, Hall Master Chung-hyun, who had been leading the students, bellowed.
“Are you going to show your families sloppy appearances?”
At his shout, the young students yelled “No!” in unison, straightening their backs and trying to look mature.
The older ones pretended nonchalance, murmuring “Here we go again.”
Instructors dashed about among them, shouting.
“Have all outbound students filled out their exit logs?”
“Those who haven't can't come back. Double-check!”
“Don't forget your return date. Latecomers repeat the year!”
Amid the bustling threats, Hall Master Chung-hyun ascended the platform and cleared his throat.
“Ahem. Taking this brief intermission, allow me, as Bronze Hall Master Chung-hyun—who oversees the academy's foundational training—to say a few words to you all and to the esteemed guests who have brought your precious children...”
Groans of “Ughhh” burst from the students forcibly standing at attention at the sudden speech.
“Hey now, you brats. Tch!”
Hall Master Chung-hyun scowled fiercely.
But even among the welcoming crowd, boos of “Booo” “Let the kids out already” “Aww, our babies” arose, so he sheepishly stepped down.
Chu Un-hwi, who had been kicking students into line on one side, tilted his head.
“Ugh. Embarrassing. What the heck is that?”
Instructor Jo-hyeon answered.
“He does this every time. Probably dragging it out hoping to impress any famous masters among the parents.”
“As long as he doesn't leave a bad impression.”
“You think he'd do it if he knew?”
Hall Master Chung-hyun droned on for nearly half an hour, gnashing his teeth, utterly absorbed in his own speech, eyes even welling with tears.
“Sniff. I, Chung, hope these humble efforts of your Hall Master and the students lead to peace in the jianghu and prosperity for the realm...”
His speech only ended when the two instructors finally intervened.
What followed was a grand reunion.
“Dad!”
“Mom!”
“Hahaha. You're looking healthy!”
Students poured out of Bronze Hall, embracing their families and sharing long-missed warmth.
Vacation had begun.
After the dismissal ceremony.
To celebrate vacation, the five instructors gathered.
They had started meeting up occasionally since the drinking party bindae-tteok incident.
The eldest, Instructor Yang, raised his glass and offered a toast.
“You've all worked hard. Cheers!”
“““Cheers!”””
As glasses clinked and they sipped, the exhausted Instructor Jo-hyeon groaned.
“Ughhh. Finally some rest.”
“Ahh, lucky you. Mine's booked solid with interviews starting tomorrow.”
Seeing Yeo Mae-hong's pale face, Instructor Yang chuckled heartily.
“Well, you've got it rough, Instructor Yeo. So many students under you.”
Yeo Mae-hong nodded, stabbing vegetables with her chopsticks.
“Their enthusiasm was great, but I'm regretting it a bit. Worried I took on more than I can handle, shortchanging time with each one.”
“Chin up. I've never seen anyone as diligent as you. You're doing great.”
The new instructor Yeo-mak interjected. This meddlesome newbie seemed quite competitive toward Yeo Mae-hong, despite being from the same cohort and praised for it.
“Why take on thirty students, though?”
“Truth is, because of a promise.”
“A promise?”
“One I can't keep anymore.”
“A promise?”
Eyes misty, Yeo Mae-hong added.
“With Instructor Eun Hae-wol, who passed recently. We promised to meet again as instructors someday.”
“Ah. Instructor Eun...”
“I wanted to stand where she did...”
The mood turned somber quickly.
“Hoh. Hoh. Sorry, I brought everyone down.”
“No, it's fine.”
At Yeo Mae-hong's apology, Jo-hyeon smoothly changed the subject as if waiting.
“Speaking of, this cohort had so many incidents.”
Instructor Yang jumped in.
“True. I've been at Bronze Hall ages, but never a term this eventful.”
Yeo-mak chimed in apologetically.
“Never dreamed I'd meet Chief Supervisor White-Clothed Judge Seon In-hyeok and Great Hero Flame Light Blade Demon Ma Gil-sang in my lifetime.”
“Now even jianghu's saint, Great Hero Dokgo Yul...”
The conversation lightened everyone's faces.
This term had so many peculiarities, enough to overshadow the sorrow.
As they shared stories of the past half-year, the chatter warmed up.
“Now that we've caught our breath, time for some senior advice.”
“Right. Instructor Mak, seeing anyone lately?”
“I heard from a friend—the Bottom Traders Guild lately...”
In a quiet corner of depopulated Bronze Hall, their talk deepened.
“Yawwwn.”
Arriving late to the office and opening the door, a familiar face greeted him.
“Huh? Instructor Chu?”
“Yeah. You're already here?”
On vacation?
At his puzzled look, Yeo Mae-hong beamed.
“Instructor Yang—er, Nine-Hundred-Iron-Fist—gave me a great tip yesterday.”
“Like what?”
Nothing memorable came to mind.
Peeking closer, she was scribbling densely on a student roster.
The chaotic scrawl made his eyes spin just looking.
“What's this?”
“Strengths, weaknesses, future guidance plans for each student.”
Wow, what a hassle.
“Parents want their kids to grow—that's universal. Least we can do is show sincerity to those who traveled far.”
Spot on.
So straightforward, he nodded automatically.
'Not that I'll do it.'
Then something amusing caught his eye.
“What's this? 'Diligent Deer'? Cute round doodles too.”
“Hehe. Jotting down associations from picturing the students. Drawing their traits like this helps remember and builds rapport, he said. Families will love it.”
“That's pretty fun.”
Images of bipedal squirrels and fox-in-sheepskin flashed in his mind.
Nod. Nod.
Energized, he sketched one, but Yeo Mae-hong peeked and tilted her head.
“Some kinda nasty monster?”
“Squirrel. It's a squirrel.”
“Hmm... This one's a trident-wielding demon?”
Doesn't look like a fan-wielding fox, huh.
Thud.
Heart cooled, he slammed the roster shut like wind.
Yeo Mae-hong apologized.
“Sorry. I have no eye for art?”
“Don't apologize.”
Makes humans feel more pathetic.
“Yeah. You've got a knack for everything, Instructor Chu. You'll draw great in no time.”
“Not drawing ever.”
“Really?”
Flexing biceps and hopping cutely won't make him draw. Just draws eyes elsewhere.
Too late.
The fresh spring sprout that bloomed blue-green through winter was trampled.
Gone from the world.
“Just show up. My presence is trust incarnate—legs sprouting from reliability, walking around.”
“Confidence is good, but great families have complex etiquette. Moyong Family first, right? They're serious about inviting you—learn thanks for the invite and dining manners at least.”
“No need.”
“What do you say announcing your arrival?”
“Hmm... Come hither?”
“......”
“......”
“...Please.”
“No problem.”
That evening.
He headed to the Moyong Family manor for the invitation.
Not entirely unfamiliar territory.
Not far from the path to Infinite Pavilion before.
“This it?”
Squinting.
Glaring at the overly fancy script, a red-tiled mansion came into view.
Walls plastered clean white, standout was the ornate black-and-gold main gate.
“Moyong Family. Yep.”
Peering at the ridiculously grand gate for a mere manor, it slid open smoothly.
Beyond stood the Moyong Patriarch—fuming in the office before—and Moyong So-hye in splendid formal robes.
“You've arrived?”
“Hehe. You came?”
An unexpected companion too.
“Hoho. Long time no see, Instructor Chu.”
A bewitching woman before a screen of maids.
Slender yet bouncy in wide-sleeved pink robes, she felt familiar.
“Oh? Don't you recognize me?”
She grabbed a lock of cascading hair and pinned it aside.
Then Chu Un-hwi recognized her.
“Ah. Instructor Moyong Seon-ya.”
“Hoho. Didn't think changing clothes would make me unrecognizable.”
“You look like a whole different person.”
“Should I be flattered by the effort paying off, or hurt?”
Smiling behind her hand, Moyong Seon-ya differed greatly from the tavern glutton.
The atmosphere shift was as vast as between Sima Yul proclaiming righteous downfall and jianghu saint Dokgo Yul.
Admiring the transformation, a grumpy voice cut in.
“Sorry to interrupt you young folks, but does this old man not rate a greeting?”
“Thank you for the invitation, Great Hero Moyong.”
“Not bad. Not perfect, but you've learned properly.”
Surprisingly positive response from the Moyong Patriarch.
'Anger cooled?'
Maybe thanks to Yeo Mae-hong's crash course.
As he relaxed, the Patriarch turned and mildly scolded Moyong So-hye.
“Girl. He's mannerly enough. Easier to dress a horse in robes and make it bow than expect courtesy from you toward an instructor, you said.”
What? Dress a horse?
Chu Un-hwi's voice chilled.
“Our Shura Blood Hand's grown a lot. Even badmouthed the instructor.”
“Wh-who's Shura Blood Hand?!”
“Who else? Jianghu's fiend, Bronze Hall's bloody fist. Heroine Shura Blood Hand Moyong So-hye.”
“Jeez.”
The Patriarch smiled at the foot-stomping Moyong So-hye and gestured inside.
“Come in, Instructor Chu Un-hwi.”
Why the change in this guy?
Baffling shift from the fire-breathing ranter.