Chapter 196
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 196
Chapter Title: Manjusraum's Father-in-Law and Son-in-Law (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The Moyong Family, tracing its origins, wasn't from the Han Chinese who dominated the Central Plains' mainstream but hailed from the Xianbei tribe. Once, they had even run a nation that lorded over the Central Plains region.
A few generations back, there were several close calls where they nearly met total annihilation after cockily proclaiming, "Make the Moyong clan great again!"
Usually, such attempts were quashed not by the government but by the Supreme Under Heaven of the era, who would deliver a stern "Pipe down!" along with shattering the family head's skull.
After that, it was all about enduring hardship and biding their time.
They steadily built up their strength, playing the pivotal role in a strategic triangle linking the Central Plains, the eastern seas, and the northern frontiers.
Now, aside from their distinctive snow-white skin, they were indistinguishable from Han Chinese or Xianbei.
Of course.
Positioned close to the outer fringes from the Central Plains' perspective, the Moyong Family bore the full brunt whenever the northern barbarians stirred.
Thus.
"Moyong Wicheon, reporting back!"
"Moyong Taek, reporting back!"
"Moyong Seol, reporting back!"
Compared to any other family, their discipline was exceptionally strict.
It was only natural, given their role resembled soldiers more than typical martial artists like those of the Shandong Evil Families.
"Hm."
True to form as family head, Moyong Danha acknowledged the greetings with a stern, cold expression, barely nodding.
He quickly took in the faces of his children.
Moyong Wicheon.
Peak Realm. Compared to the time allotted, his muscle mass had given way to a bit more fat—signs of slacking in training.
Moyong Taek.
Peak Realm. Same as always, but slacking in training.
The traces of recent mahjong obsession and neglected cultivation were plainly evident, carving a deep furrow between Moyong Danha's brows.
But that lasted only a moment.
Moyong Seol.
Still dazzlingly beautiful, not a hint of pain even if he poked her in the eye—a single flower in full bloom, the martial world's top beauty, his one and only precious daughter, retaining the grace of a fifteen-year-old girl.
Though it tore his heart every night since she'd left for that distant academy, he only wished for her a life more comfortable than scraping by in this harsh northern wilds against the barbarians. How could such a thing happen to drag her back here? Damn those mongrel Mongols—he'd slaughter them all.
Weaving all those emotions together.
"No change."
Moyong Danha's cold, solemn words struck his children squarely.
The two guilty ones naturally bowed their heads.
But seeing his impeccably kind daughter bow her head too, lest her brothers take more scolding, Moyong Danha felt his chest ache unwittingly.
"Refine yourselves."
With that brief command, he shook off his heartfelt anguish and finally turned to the outsider.
A ruggedly built man offered a courteous bow.
"From the Murim Language Academy, Geum of the Mo Family greets the head of the Moyong Family."
It was a perfectly proper greeting.
Yet Moyong Danha felt an inexplicable discomfort.
As if facing a mortal enemy.
"Geum Sihyeon?"
Unbidden, the gruesome name that had plagued his mind slipped out.
"Haha... yes."
Upon that confession, Moyong Danha's teeth ground silently, ever so quietly.
- There's a man I want to get engaged to.
- …….
- His family isn't martial, but his talents are exceptional. With him... I could devote my future to him.
- …….
- If you don't allow it, I'll leave home.
- ……!
That night when Moyong Seol had come to him.
Moyong Danha shed a thick tear—one he hadn't even wept when his father died—rolling silently down his cheek.
She was the daughter he wanted to keep by his side forever, his most precious child.
Being from a branch family, she didn't need to succeed him as head, which was a small mercy. He'd deliberately kept the family's authority from weighing on her.
How dare some no-account punk with petty tricks ensnare his priceless gem of a daughter? What manner of heaven-defying bastard was this?
Even after Moyong Seol returned to the academy.
He'd suppressed the urge five times a day to race to the Central Plains and beat that heaven-cursed son of a bitch to a pulp.
Of course.
- Daddy... I hate you...!
- ……!!!
When Moyong Seol was seven.
Moyong Danha, who had suffered nightmares for a full decade from the beating he'd taken just for plucking a handful of fur from her beloved puppy, couldn't bring himself to act on it.
But if they ever met.
He vowed to instill proper discipline—did this punk think he was worthy of his jewel-like daughter?
"Draw your sword."
All that sticky, father-of-a-daughter emotion boiled over in those words.
Everyone froze in an instant.
"Pardon?"
Geum Sihyeon let slip a slightly flustered response.
"Scared?"
"No?"
Whether his acquired genes reacted stronger than the ancient instinct for Eastern courtesy.
Geum Sihyeon reflexively spat out the expected retort without thinking.
"Ha!"
Moyong Danha grinned.
"Guts: pass."
"S-So, sparring, three exchanges— Eek."
Before I could finish, the family head's left sword whistled past my face with crisp speed.
No.
He seemed like a madman, sure.
But what kind of lunatic from the orthodox sects proposes a spar like that and lands the first blow before ten seconds are up?
Clang—!
At least he hadn't infused it with qi—that was the silver lining.
A twin-sword mastery leagues beyond Seol noona's suddenly bore down on me.
Stealing a glance amid the scant openings.
I saw the Moyong clan averting their eyes, pretending not to notice.
And Seol noona's face, on the verge of screaming.
Well...
I got the gist of his intent.
The north was barren land, after all.
A clash of swords spoke truer than words.
No qi meant a pure test of technique, sans internal arts.
In that case.
Theory said I couldn't lose.
My swordsmanship came from the world I knew.
From the killer techniques taught by Teacher Teolbu, absorbing countless styles through eyes and hands.
The Moyong twin blades? Seol noona—my former sword master—had drilled counters into me.
Break it down—
"Just this?"
"Kugh—"
No.
Swordsmanship wasn't the point.
Who wielded it was.
Indeed...
A family head's swordplay worthy of the Moyong clan.
No internal energy, yet an oppressive weight emanated from the blade.
A spar in name, but intense killing intent lurked, ready to slay at any gap.
Oddly, most strikes targeted the lower body over the upper—but probably just my imagination.
"I'll carve you up."
"...?"
Imagination...
Right?
About a hundred exchanges into the spar.
- Stoooop!
Moyong Seol couldn't bear it anymore and let out a piercing shriek, ending the bout without a victor.
Of course.
The Moyong warriors escorting the head couldn't hide their awe.
A young later-generation talent holding out a hundred bouts against the family head? Astonishing.
Even the heir-apparent Moyong Wicheon had never exceeded fifty against Moyong Danha.
Truly, an impressive master brought by the young masters and lady—they directed admiring glances their way.
.
.
.
Geum Sihyeon's ordeal didn't end there.
"Drink."
Forced to chug an entire jar of liquor so potent it was practically distilled essence.
"Draw."
Then summoned back for another sword bout in that state.
"Clasp."
Even dragged into an internal energy contest—Moyong Danha probed every limit.
Of course.
"Hm, Father's trying to build Geum Sihyeon's face."
"What's so impressive about that guy to go this far..."
To others.
It looked like giving the newcomer chances to show off masculinity, helping him blend into the insular northern Moyong Family.
Fame turns even shit into applause, after all.
The doting father's twisted paternal love unwittingly bolstered the family head's authority, earning Geum Sihyeon swift acceptance.
.
.
.
In the end.
"Not bad."
"...Thank you."
Moyong Danha had no choice but to acknowledge Geum Sihyeon.
Plenty of shortcomings, sure, but at this level of martial prowess, he'd at least die in place of Moyong Seol.
Though, does this guy not get drunk?
Musing that, he poured yet another round of the strongest brew into Geum Sihyeon's cup.
"Family head?"
"What."
"If I may presume, could I make a suggestion?"
"Speak."
Moyong Danha nodded at Geum Sihyeon's whispered words.
Expecting something like "Ease up on the drinks," perhaps.
"Hm."
But Geum Sihyeon's proposal was intriguing.
Having heard it all.
"Amusing."
Moyong Danha nodded.
That night.
Two mysterious masked figures slipped out of the Moyong Family compound.
At first, light steps like a nighttime stroll.
"Can you keep up?"
"I'll show you my speed limit."
Soon, the moonlit walk devolved into a mad race.
The finish line: vicinity of the Gwangpung Temple outpost, confirmed by scouts.
Thirty minutes later.
Rumble...
Boom—!
A massive explosion rocked the Liaodong plains.
And so.
The father-in-law and son-in-law duo departed on four legs.
Returned on two.
Scaling the Moyong Family walls once more.