Chapter 165
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 165
Chapter Title: 46. Crossroads (1)
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"Bah, what're you talking about? You've done what you can, old man. Leave the rest to your successors. Build it up generation by generation until it's complete. That's how all the top martial arts in the jianghu came about, right?"
"Well..."
"Whatever, just do it. If you complete it, it'll be a supreme art that shakes the jianghu to its core. Hell, it might even go down in history as legendary. So even if you're a genius, old man, you think you can swallow the whole achievement in one generation? That's just bandit thinking."
"You really felt that way?"
"Of course."
"Then why don't you give it a try?"
"Me? What do you... Huh? You don't mean for me to inherit your single sword style, do you?"
"Exactly. I heard from Bong Yeon-ja. When you clashed with the Zhao Family Manor's warriors and maids, you shattered a sword in one strike using a technique eerily similar to my single sword style."
"Uh... it just kinda worked out that time? No, don't look at me like that with those suspicious eyes. It was pure luck. I tried it again later out of curiosity, and I couldn't even come close."
"That's just because I'll teach you step by step."
"...Why?"
The Shandong Old Man jumped straight into an explanation at Flying Tiger's question as to why him. It didn't seem like a spur-of-the-moment idea.
"You handle a blade decently, so you know this: the single sword style I'm pursuing is hardest at the first step. It's like sensing qi to truly begin internal energy cultivation—most third-rate warriors in the jianghu slave away their whole lives without crossing that wall."
"Hm."
"But you took that tough first step after just a handful of encounters. And not even taught—you figured it out alone. Honestly, hard to believe."
"Hold on. Before the misunderstanding deepens, there's actually a story behind it."
There was a reason Flying Tiger could mimic—even if by chance—the Shandong Old Man's unique sword strikes.
The old man's swordplay he'd witnessed was far more intense than any ordinary experience. Especially the two times when Flying Tiger unleashed his Fragmenting Front, and the old man parried them one by one.
Once was when Flying Tiger was staking his life, pushing his focus to the absolute limit. A state of hyper-concentration he could never replicate. Every one of the old man's multifaceted swings from all angles burned vividly into his mind.
The other time was when the Shandong Old Man abandoned killing intent and swung in a trance-like state. Freshly beaten by Jin Ga-yong, his body was wrecked; he couldn't use internal energy, and his movements were sluggish. That's why the old man's strikes traced the ideal arcs without excess power or blinding speed.
Facing him, Flying Tiger got the perfect observer's view. And those strikes that lingered in his mind were reconfirmed in a calmer moment.
Thus, the old man's swordplay seeped into Flying Tiger. Of course, that didn't explain everything, but it was the biggest factor.
"Whoa~ You're a true knight!"
"So I just understand your swordplay deeper than most. Doesn't mean I can replicate it. I told you—it was pure fluke, just once."
"What if... under those conditions, other martial arts get imprinted in your head too?"
"Nah, doubt it. Can't recreate those conditions to test, but I'm no genius like that."
The Shandong Old Man pondered briefly, then clapped in delight.
"Perfect! You say you're not, but it proves your talent is extraordinary. And it sounds like fate tying you to my single sword style."
"Fate?"
"Yeah, isn't all this fate? You can't do it again? Doesn't matter. Your body already remembers it, even if you can't express it yet."
Flying Tiger smacked his lips, eyeing the solemn, earnest old man. Tempting? No denying it.
But...
"Nah."
"What?"
"Hard to explain, but I'm busy."
"Damn it. Learn after you're done being busy."
"Hm."
"What, is it gonna take long?"
Flying Tiger grinned, and the Shandong Old Man realized this "busy" involved risking his neck.
"I'll wait anyway. You're not marching to certain death, right? No, I'll tag along and teach you in spare moments. You've been squeezing in training these past days no matter what."
"Old man, why not use this chance to take a smart, loyal disciple? Someone to wait on you, chat with you."
"Screw that. You think those grow on trees? I'll handle finding one. And you don't need to call me master formally. Just help me perfect the sword style."
"Why give away so much?"
"Why do you think?"
"..."
The Shandong Old Man and Flying Tiger stared blankly at each other.
Reasons were probably layered.
Maybe surviving had made him desperate. Or he truly sensed fate in Flying Tiger. It could even be a side effect of "Human Conquest." They'd gone through "assimilation" and "resonance," linking their emotions briefly; the goodwill lingered.
And Flying Tiger felt it too. Quick on the uptake, he guessed why the old man trailed off.
'But above all that, he must've been lonely. Life weighing heavy... Yeah, fate it is. Not sure if it'll help, but.'
"Fine, let's do it."
"Thanks."
Flying Tiger made it sound like a grand favor, and the old man realized mid-response he should be the thankful one. But it didn't end there.
"One thing to know upfront: I've got another martial art to complete, so I can't obsess over your swordplay alone. Got it?"
"Yeah, sure, wha—wait, what? You were just gushing about how great my sword style is, and now you wanna juggle another? What is it? Don't tell me that pathetic Eight-Directional Storm of yours? Equating that trash with my art...?"
"Sixty-Four Storm Flowers."
"Ahem, Storm Flowers? From the I Ching, huh. Unleash Eight-Directional Storm eight times like scattering petals, making it unpredictable hell for foes?"
Flying Tiger was impressed inwardly. Storm Flowers was simple, sure. But he'd grasped its essence from the name alone.
"Honestly, not bad, I'll admit. In a world overflowing with flashy tricksters, that's mid-to-upper tier. But why swing sixty-four times when one proper strike ends it? All that flailing's just wasted effort."
"Hmph. I've got arguments, but anyway—the Storm Flowers I mean isn't that crappy one you dissed."
"Not? Then what?"
"Know Superior Five Golden Steps? Qingcheng Sect's unique movement art."
Flying Tiger emphasized Qingcheng, stung by the old man's trash-talk. Who was he to badmouth Qingcheng too?
The Shandong Old Man tilted his head.
"Not Qingcheng Heart Method or Nine Purity Cyclic Skill, but Superior Five Golden Steps? A movement art? Wait... isn't that their twisted take on Hua Tuo's Five Animals Frolic? Health qigong."
"What? Health qigong?"
"Yeah. Calisthenics for geezers in the back room to stay fit. Now popular with neighborhood ladies for skin beauty too."
"Argh, damn it! You lost it, old man?"
"Heh heh, truth hurts."
"Screw it! Not learning!"
The already offended and the newly offended glared like they might slug each other. Then someone knocked. They whipped their heads and barked in unison.
"Who is it?"
"Um... the Zhao Family Manor's second young master is here for Flying Tiger warrior."
Jin Ga-yong waited leisurely with tea in the parlor. Flying Tiger stormed in fuming. The more he thought, the madder: 'Health calisthenics for has-beens? Hmph. Then instead of learning that beggar's swordplay, I should teach him Superior Five Golden Steps. He's the real relic.'
At Flying Tiger's brash entrance, Jin Ga-yong set down his cup and asked.
"Something fun happen? You look lively."
"Huh? Why think that?"
Flying Tiger sat, denying it, and sipped tea. Jin Ga-yong waited for him to calm.
Finally, Flying Tiger asked.
"Zhao Family Manor's decision made?"
"First, tell me: did the Shandong Old Man swear not to draw his sword on the Zhao Family Manor?"
"If he does, what then? If he refuses?"
"Make him swear right in front of me now. Refuses? I'll take his life myself."
'Faster and firmer than expected. Figured a master like him had value... Do they lack time too? Ask for one more day?'
Flying Tiger shook his head. Negative. They'd already been plenty accommodating.
"Sorry, Manor Lord Jin. The old coot was delirious till this morning. Delayed explaining, so he hasn't decided yet."
"Asking for more time?"
"No, can't. But given the circumstances, two requests."
"..."
"Give me time for one cup of tea. I'll talk to him last time and get his decision."
"And the second?"
"He's too weak to even sit up. If he agrees to swear, could you hear it in person?"
"You mean kowtow for mercy."
"Not at all. Just circumstances. Show that mercy, and he's no lost cause—he'll help the Zhao Family Manor somehow later."
"Fine. But if he digs in and refuses?"
"Then I'll cut his head myself, wrap it pretty in cloth, and bring it here."
"You?"
"Yes. No need to bloody your hands after all this courtesy. My atonement for failing."
"Granted."
"Thank you."
Jin Ga-yong stared at Flying Tiger, a faint smile playing on his lips.
What was that random smile? Flying Tiger puzzled inwardly but dashed to the old man's room.
Left alone, Jin Ga-yong picked up his cold tea, amused.
'Pretty wrap as a gift? Heh, his antics are kinda cute.'