Chapter 64
Chapter 64
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 64
Chapter Title: Can You Take Responsibility?
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Bam!
The door to Bok Yeon-hwa's quarters slammed shut with a bang.
"You dog bastards!"
It was the lady of the house herself, Bok Yeon-hwa.
Han Ibi, who had been chatting with So Eun-ri—now largely recovered—sprang to his feet and glanced her way.
"Has the Elder returned?"
Bok Yeon-hwa strode in without a word. Her heavy footsteps thudded like drumbeats, clear signs of her boiling rage.
Han Ibi spoke up.
"What happened?"
She had just come back from the elders' meeting.
Snorting with barely contained fury, Bok Yeon-hwa growled,
"Those bastards suddenly... advanced the Sect Leader Selection Tournament schedule."
"What?"
"What?"
Han Ibi and So Eun-ri blurted out in unison, stunned.
"It's set for ten days from now."
Han Ibi shouted,
"No way! Where's the rule allowing that? Pulling this out of nowhere... Why the hell are they rushing the tournament?"
Grinding her teeth, Bok Yeon-hwa spat,
"Who else but that black-hearted old crone? He kept insisting he needs to pick a successor fast because his health's failing."
The black-hearted old crone was none other than the current Sect Leader, Hong Gu-geum.
Han Ibi burst out indignantly,
"That filthy rat of an old geezer looked like he'd live past a hundred easy! It's a lie. He knows So Junior Sister's recovering."
At that moment, Bok Yeon-hwa turned to So Eun-ri.
"How's your body holding up?"
So Eun-ri replied,
"I'm fine... I'll start preparing for the tournament today."
"No chance."
Han Ibi cut in sharply.
"Ihamjonggeun root makes a fine antidote, no doubt, but to purge all the poison completely, you need at least two more weeks of rest."
So Eun-ri insisted,
"No. I can do it."
"You can't. Elder! Look at her pale face. I admire So Junior Sister's dedication to her duty and willingness to shoulder this burden... But this tournament decides the fate of the Qingcheng Sect."
So Eun-ri shot back curtly,
"You're not even part of the Qingcheng Sect."
Well...
She had a point.
But to Han Ibi, this tournament was a crucial turning point to steer the story back on track.
And all these efforts would pave the way for his 'return.'
No backing down now!
Han Ibi declared,
"Does it matter if it's Qingcheng Sect or not? I just want the Elder I respect—and the Junior Sister I like—to succeed."
At that moment, Han Ibi didn't notice...
The subtle shift in So Eun-ri's expression when he said 'the Junior Sister I like'...
He pressed on.
"This tournament boils down to 'win or lose.' We must focus on 'how to win.' Entering the duel in your condition might seem helpful, but it's sabotage."
So Eun-ri's face hardened.
She wanted to snap back, but couldn't deny his logic, so she held her tongue.
Bok Yeon-hwa let out a long sigh.
"He's right... If you force yourself into the ring, that's exactly what they want..."
So Eun-ri said worriedly,
"Then what do we do? No one can handle Senior Brother Seong Chun-don. Unless we follow this man's idea and substitute Jong Ri-hyeok..."
Bok Yeon-hwa shook her head.
"Jong Ri-hyeok's from a different faction. No grounds to send him in."
Han Ibi jumped in.
"Besides, big bro's vanished off the face of the earth. Probably holed up training somewhere."
Sure enough, Jong Ri-hyeok had gone into hiding at the Five Elements Pavilion once Jong Ri-mae kept showing up.
In truth, he'd gotten his master's permission to train separately away from the Qingcheng Sect.
So Eun-ri bit her lower lip hard.
"Ah... Then what?"
In that instant, Han Ibi's face took on a resolute look.
"There's... a way."
Bok Yeon-hwa frowned.
"A way? What are you talking about?"
Han Ibi said,
"Something worth trying."
"Trying what, exactly?"
Han Ibi flashed a grin and held out his palm instead of answering.
The two women eyed his hand curiously.
Han Ibi lightly swirled his palm outward.
First form. Second form. Third form.
So Eun-ri gasped in shock.
"How do you know that...?"
Indeed.
It was the Qingcheng Sect's signature technique, the Fierce Tiger Palm Technique.
The very martial art he'd hammered into his body during synchronization with Song Myeong-cheon's past.
In stark contrast, Bok Yeon-hwa remained composed.
"Stolen and learned, was it?"
Han Ibi shook his head vigorously.
"Absolutely not. I swear on my parents. Learned it from an acquaintance."
Well, 'learned' was a stretch...
"An acquaintance..."
Song Myeong-cheon's story was a secret between Han Ibi and Bok Yeon-hwa.
So he hinted without spelling it out that Song Myeong-cheon had taught him Qingcheng techniques.
Though it wasn't entirely accurate...
Anyway, Bok Yeon-hwa seemed to accept it readily.
That was when...
Whoosh!
With a sharp whistle, Bok Yeon-hwa shot out her Golden Crow Hand and seized Han Ibi's wrist.
It was so swift and stealthy, no bird or mouse would notice.
'Damn. This old lady's hands are ghost-fast.'
Han Ibi panicked inwardly but feigned calm, adapting a defensive Fierce Tiger Palm stance to evade.
But her hand, seemingly missing its mark, twisted back in and slammed his shoulder.
Han Ibi spun once to dodge again, then dropped into the Fierce Tiger Palm's Ferocious Tiger Crouching in Grass stance.
A predator lying in wait—any further attack would cost her dearly. A silent warning.
"Hmph!"
But who was her opponent?
Bok Yeon-hwa charged straight into the grass where the tiger lurked, fearless.
Han Ibi couldn't just sit there. He unleashed a palm strike with all his might.
Palm met palm with a sharp clap.
Like a single person's applause.
The clashing inner energies sent Han Ibi staggering back three steps.
Bok Yeon-hwa retreated half a step.
Even that seemed to surprise her.
She said,
"Not bad."
Han Ibi replied,
"Now do you see the method I mentioned?"
So Eun-ri cut in impatiently.
"What the hell are you even talking about?"
"Exactly what you see."
"What do I see?"
"Just what you see. I'm asking the Elder to take me as her disciple."
So Eun-ri blinked in astonishment.
"What? That's ridiculous..."
Han Ibi explained,
"If the Elder accepts me, I'll be her direct disciple, second-generation rank. No hierarchy issues. Right?"
So Eun-ri interjected, incredulous.
"Do you think the Qingcheng Sect Leader Tournament is some kids' game?"
Bok Yeon-hwa murmured softly,
"Can you take responsibility?"
A single question.
But Han Ibi instinctively knew it was a question wagering his life.
He glanced at the sky, then let out a deep sigh toward the ground.
"I'll stake my life on it. My skills might fall short, but my intentions are pure. Believe me or not, Elder. But if So Junior Sister competes like this, the outcome's obvious."
Bok Yeon-hwa closed her eyes briefly.
Her face showed no change, but inside, turmoil of doubt and deliberation churned.
She opened her eyes.
Her gaze fixed calmly on Han Ibi.
"No failure allowed."
Han Ibi flinched.
"Pardon?"
"My disciple will never know failure."
Whoa... This old lady...
She was in a bind, and he was offering help, but this...
...Wait. Isn't this indirect acceptance as her disciple?
Couldn't pass up the timing.
"Yes..."
He paused dramatically before adding,
"...Master."
So Eun-ri's eyes widened as she looked back and forth between Bok Yeon-hwa and Han Ibi.
Bok Yeon-hwa said to Han Ibi,
"Follow me. We'll report to the Sect Leader and elders before it's too late."
She whirled and strode out without waiting.
Flustered, Han Ibi hurried after her.
Left in the room was a dumbfounded So Eun-ri.
As expected, all hell broke loose.
"The Qingcheng Sect isn't some ragtag Hawon Gate taking in strays... Is this even sane?"
Elder Nam Cheol-hong couldn't hide his agitation.
The elders whispered that Bok Yeon-hwa must be losing it already.
Yi Sin-song, Hong Gu-geum's right-hand man, pondered the implications and impact on the tournament.
Hong Gu-geum had no desire to accept riffraff like Han Ibi—let alone as a second-generation disciple.
But outright opposition wasn't easy.
The Sect Leader made final calls, but taking a disciple was deeply personal...
To object, you'd need solid grounds.
And those were lacking.
Yi Sin-song had said,
"Elder Bok, times are unstable, and we're busy with the successor selection. Must you do this now?"
Bok Yeon-hwa exploded,
"By your logic, we can't eat or shit until we pick a leader? When do we eat and relieve ourselves if we're so busy?"
Yi Sin-song and crew were speechless, noses pinched in frustration.
They couldn't grasp Bok Yeon-hwa's motives, but elders like Seo Ui-jae and Gi Baek-eom—who'd pinned hopes on her—backed her up.
And so... Han Ibi accidentally became a Qingcheng Sect disciple.
Needless to say, the disciples were in uproar.
Not just So Eun-ri... Now a parachute second-gen dropped in. And infamous as a rare murim playboy to boot?
For once, conservatives and progressives united—all second- and third-gen disciples vowed not to let him squeeze into their ranks.
Early morning at the Cliffside Valley.
The ethereal dawn mist blanketed the pristine Taoist peak of Qingcheng Mountain.
The cusp where night ended and morning began.
Where yin and yang intertwined into one, beginnings and ends blurred away.
The end of all and start of all.
This drama unfolded against the valley's breathtaking vista.
And there...
Stood Han Ibi, newly inducted into the Qingcheng Sect, and his second master, Bok Yeon-hwa.
Han Ibi said,
"Master, I never dreamed you'd summon me here at dawn."
Bok Yeon-hwa shot him a sharp look.
"My disciple must respond instantly, anytime, anywhere, to anything."
"Ah... Yes. Yes. That's why I came running, right...?"
She glanced at him again piercingly.
"Besides the Fierce Tiger Palm Technique, what other martial arts do you know?"
"Well... This foolish disciple also practices the Zhongli Clan's hereditary art, the Pure Swordsmanship."
Lots of miscellaneous stuff too, but... Better not mention it'd just earn scolding.
"Show me."
"...Here...?"
"Or do you plan to jump in the water over there?"
"N-No, of course not. Alright then."
Grumbling inwardly, Han Ibi drew the Mysterious Frost Blade.
Bok Yeon-hwa's expression flickered subtly at the sight.
Han Ibi thought,
'A test, huh. Gauging my skill level. Gotta be careful...'
After settling his stance, he raised the blade and unleashed the Pure Swordsmanship from the first form.
The crisp sound of slicing air echoed through the empty mountainside.
No audience, so he poured inner energy into a solemn, valiant display.
Thus, the forty-eight forms concluded.
Sweat beaded thick on Han Ibi's tense forehead; his breath came ragged.
This should impress, he smirked inwardly, awaiting her reaction.
Bok Yeon-hwa said,
"Done?"
"Yes. Finished."
"Not bad..."
Not bad? It's the Zhongli Clan's famed hereditary art! People would freak!
"...But something's missing. Feels empty..."
"Pardon? Empty? I did all forty-eight forms without skipping..."
Bok Yeon-hwa pondered briefly, then shook her head.
"Anyway, not important now. You're Qingcheng Sect now."
"Yes, of course."
"In eight days, you'll duel in the tournament."
"Yes..."
"Will you use your hereditary arts?"
"...No way. That'd be absurd."
"So, handle everything with Fierce Tiger Palm?"
"Pitting palms against weapons... Only an idiot would unless the skill gap's massive..."
"You know your stuff."
"...Yes."
"That's why I'll teach you Qingcheng Sect martial arts."
Han Ibi hesitated.
"But... in such short time... Possible?"
"You proposed this, not me."
"...True, but..."
"And as I said, my disciples never fail."
'Naturally...'
"The key lies in the 'Child's Initiation Guidance.'"
"Pardon?"
(To be continued)