Chapter 37: The Old Monk's Grudge
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 37: The Old Monk's Grudge
Jeong Yeon-shin slowly drank the liquor. As he circulated the Jeong Family Dynamic Art while drinking the Thunder Immortal Treasure Wine, something strange occurred.
A new strand of true qi began to slowly fill his middle dantian. He examined his body internally, but there was no change at the Baihui point on the crown of his head.
This is why.
One must always keep fleeting hopes at bay.
This was the reason Jeong Yeon-shin never allowed himself to rely on the kindness of the Lord of the Desolate Fortress.
He hadn't expected much, but he still felt the strength drain from his body.
At times like this, the new gains in his middle dantian were of little comfort. Despite experiencing something good, his mood sank.
The Lord of the Desolate Fortress, wearing that mysterious smile of hers, came into view. For the first time, he found her annoying.
Jeong Yeon-shin looked around the hall and clasped his hands in a formal gesture.
"I thank all the heroes gathered here for witnessing my coming-of-age ceremony."
The boy's humble etiquette, coming after such a fierce display of ambition, was a picturesque sight.
Pleased expressions began to appear on the faces in the crowd, and people started to chime in.
"So he's of the Desolate Ma Clan's bloodline after all."
"Indeed. The spirit of a prestigious clan does not abandon its descendants."
"To stand alone without relying on his family… is that not the bearing of a true master?"
"He will surely establish his own lineage in the future."
Offering his respects once more, Jeong Yeon-shin stepped down from the platform.
He passed his maternal grandfather, Ma Yeon-jeok, whose eyes were trembling, and stopped before Ma Se-in.
Since the man was kneeling on one knee, Yeon-shin had to look down at him.
A look of utter futility was painted across Ma Se-in's face. His thick eyebrows were lowered, creating a dazed expression.
Jeong Yeon-shin could understand that feeling to some extent. Having been the first to cast aside his pride, the man must have completely submitted.
Otherwise, he would never have been able to bring up the matter of succession.
It was a decision that would dictate Ma Se-in's entire life, yet Jeong Yeon-shin had brushed it aside with a single cup of liquor.
He had spoken of the martial world while drinking the Thunder Immortal Treasure Wine he had earned himself. Walking the Jianghu alone.
It meant that being a warrior of the Desolate Fortress who roamed the world alone was enough for him. Anyone in Ma Se-in's position would feel a sense of emptiness.
Jeong Yeon-shin spoke.
"I think you'll make a fine clan head."
"What…?"
He walked past Ma Se-in, who flinched and jerked his head up. Today, one thing had become certain.
His maternal grandfather, Ma Yeon-jeok, was a lesser man than the Sword Immortal of Zhongnan. He had distanced himself from the adopted grandson he'd chosen as his successor, setting his sights on Jeong Yeon-shin instead.
If he had been able to see the state of Yeon-shin's upper dantian, his behavior would have been different.
The Sword Immortal seemed to have noticed my constitution.
Dealing with his troublesome maternal family brought back memories of the Sword Immortal of Zhongnan and Wiji Myo-hwa—those peaceful days of training.
He thought it wouldn't be so bad to spend the rest of his life on a famous mountain filled with immortal qi, like Mount Zhongnan.
I just hope that ‘rest of my life’ is at least thirty years long.
Praying to both Buddha and Yuanshi Tianzun, he left the banquet hall. Ma Jin had already slipped out and was waiting for him.
After confirming no one was around, Jeong Yeon-shin asked bluntly, "Unit Commander, you aren't married?"
"What?"
"Aren't you the eldest son of the Ma Clan's direct line? You seem to be in your prime, yet they're making such a fuss over the succession. None of the explanations make any sense."
"..."
The scar running across Ma Jin's face twitched. For some reason, he looked weary.
Just then, Cheong-myeong poked his head in next to Jeong Yeon-shin with a grin. He, too, had watched the coming-of-age ceremony.
"The Flash Art user ought to know. Here, I'll tell you."
"...Go ahead."
Cheong-myeong waited until Ma Jin, who had turned his back, was a considerable distance away.
Jeong Yeon-shin looked between the two of them with a puzzled expression, but soon dismissed his questions and closed his eyes.
Even a brief moment was too precious to waste. He was observing his middle dantian when Cheong-myeong began to speak.
"Back when the Unit Commander was a White-Ranked Expert, he returned from a mission holding Mi-ryeo's hand."
"Do you mean Senior Baek Mi-ryeo?"
He opened his eyes. Cheong-myeong gave him a casual smile.
"Yeah. She was just a little kid back then. About this tall?"
Cheong-myeong tapped his own waist as he continued.
"He said he brought her from a sect whose teachings are passed down in secret, claiming she would become a major asset to the Desolate Fortress. But that wasn't the problem. The mission was in Xinjiang, which was a battlefield where the remnants of the destroyed Demonic Cult were running rampant."
"The Demonic Cult?" Jeong Yeon-shin asked reflexively. He knew it as the cult that had mutually annihilated itself along with the Kunlun Sect, once considered one of the greatest of the Nine Sects.
They were said to have helped found the Ming Dynasty but later became a religion that deluded the world and deceived the people.
He had heard plenty of stories about the ancient heretical cult. It was said that the supreme ruler of the heterodox sects, known as the Heavenly Demon, would frequently emerge from it to wreak havoc.
"Right. It was a dangerous place in many ways for a White-Ranked warrior. They say the Unit Commander, who was eager for a promotion to the Blue Rank at the time, volunteered. He completed the mission, but while fighting an internal qi expert of Xinjiang…"
Cheong-myeong's voice trailed off. The smile he always wore faded slightly.
Seeing Jeong Yeon-shin urging him to continue with his expression, he sighed and spoke again.
"He was struck by an Internal Heavy Hand Technique. Right in a vital spot. He'd aimed a kick at the man's face, but the bastard dodged and slipped inside his guard."
"What?"
"They said he was a vicious bastard. A few of the seniors who went on that mission with him also became Unit Commanders, but even the Commander of the Azure Sky Unit, who doesn't get along with him, never speaks of that incident."
"..."
"Unit Commander Ma hasn't been able to function as a man since then. That's why the fierce Mi-ryeo treats the Unit Commander as her savior. How could she not?"
"I understand."
In battles between experts, using movement techniques to leap through the air was a common occurrence.
If one had learned the Demonlight Formula, using kicking techniques was inevitable, and raising one's leg for a kick was tantamount to exposing a central vital spot.
The martial world was a harsh place. Injuries leading to permanent disability were not uncommon.
The image of an inexperienced, White-Ranked Ma Jin formed in his mind. Jeong Yeon-shin spoke slowly.
"The Kunlun Sect's Cloud Dragon Eight Forms, and Shaolin's Buddha's Light Qi Stream."
"Hmm?"
"I understand they are movement techniques that allow one to maneuver in midair. I would like to witness them."
Cheong-myeong smiled.
"As it happens, our next mission seems to be in Henan. We'll be cooperating with Shaolin, so if heaven favors us, you might get to see it. The Buddha's Light Qi Stream, that is."
* * *
After the coming-of-age ceremony, a month of rest was granted. To him, it was a meaningless gesture.
Jeong Yeon-shin wished to go on missions without pause.
"It would be good to establish a foothold in Henan beforehand," said Ma Jin from the head seat in his office.
He met Jeong Yeon-shin's steady gaze with a strange, awkward discomfort. Jeong Yeon-shin asked, unbothered, "What exactly is the mission?"
"Annihilation. On this mission, we will sever one of the Blood Flame Cult's arms. If we are lucky, we will locate their main headquarters."
Taking a sip of tea, he continued.
"While you were capturing the Thieving Ghost, I clashed with one of their Apostles. A man with completely black hair. Not a single strand of crimson. A monster who surpasses the Blood Master Sword. We have tracked his movements."
"He went from Shaanxi to Henan?"
"Whatever his scheme is, his trail went cold at Mount Pingding in Henan. That is the territory of the Shaolin Temple."
"Isn't Shaolin located on Mount Song in Zhengzhou? That's quite a distance away."
"It is the greatest sect of the Righteous Faction. It is said that all martial arts under heaven originate from Shaolin. There are few sects in the Central Plains untouched by their influence. The number of its lay sects is beyond count. You can consider the entire Henan Province to be under Shaolin's sphere of influence. As someone from Henan yourself, you must know this firsthand."
Ma Jin averted his eyes as he mentioned Yeon-shin's origins, a pang of sorrow seemingly striking him as his maternal uncle.
While nodding, Jeong Yeon-shin was surprised by something else.
It was the first time he had seen a peak expert of the Desolate Fortress show such deep respect for a martial world sect.
It was an era where one's sense of belonging to an organization became one's very identity.
It was said that few experts of the Desolate Fortress viewed the Jianghu from any perspective other than that of the common people's livelihood. To them, the people of the Jianghu were nothing more than potential rebels with power—ruffians who disrupted public order.
Mount Song Shaolin. It truly is a sect that reaches across the world.
Its power and reputation were mightier than any other in the Jianghu. For the first time in a while, Jeong Yeon-shin felt his heart race.
Mount Song was the birthplace of Central Plains martial arts. What kind of inspiration would Shaolin's techniques offer him?
"But if it's the Blood Flame Cult, isn't that something Shaolin could handle?"
"Their martial monks may cry out to 'crush evil and reveal truth' or 'expel demons and eradicate evil,' but this is the Desolate Fortress. We cannot simply sit idly by. We will take their heads ourselves. There are not only Apostles but also more than a few Blood Master Swords."
"What is the composition of our force?"
"The Demonlight First Team and Second Team will go with me."
The Demonlight First Team. Ma Jin had formed it after completing the Purple Grace Pill mission in Shaanxi.
Jeong Yeon-shin, Heonwon Chang, Cheong-myeong, and Baek Mi-ryeo were grouped together. The Demonlight Wing had been reorganized into teams.
It was said to make it easier for them to coordinate with one another.
"Does our team not need to rest?"
"Everyone is just like you. They either love achieving merits or enjoy traveling the Jianghu."
The former clearly referred to Jeong Yeon-shin and Baek Mi-ryeo, the latter to Heonwon Chang and Cheong-myeong.
"Understood. I will take my leave then."
"Rest well."
Leaving Ma Jin to finalize the arrangements, he stepped out of the office.
As he descended, orange hues washed over the sky. He headed straight to his room without stopping by the training ground.
Jeong Yeon-shin buried himself in his bed immediately.
Boisterous sounds echoed from nearby. It seemed the seniors in the other rooms were having a drinking party.
Further away, he could feel the clashes from the training ground. The singing ring of swords, vigorous shouts, laughter washing away fatigue, the clinking of cups...
The sunlight, blurred through the paper window, brushed past the side of his face. It was the touch of the sunset hanging at the end of the day.
The crown of his head grew hot. It was always like this around this time. Since when had it started?
His upper dantian invited the energies of the natural world to dance within him. And the more they danced, the larger their 'house' grew, regardless of its owner's will.
It was the hour when the boundary between day and night blurred.
The laughter of the seniors enjoying their drinks and songs grew louder. They seem to be having fun.
Suddenly, he imagined shouting at them to stop.
Jeong Yeon-shin closed his eyes. In his pitch-black vision, a blue robe flickered.
In an instant, it felt as if he had been splashed with cold water. His senses snapped back to reality.
No one was watching him now. He curled up in his bed.
Just one more time.
The final mission before his promotion to the Blue Rank lay ahead.
* * *
The wind whipped against his cheeks as he galloped on horseback.
Jeong Yeon-shin glanced around from atop his fine steed.
This is proof of how significant this matter is.
Eight people were riding alongside him. He had never been on a mission with so many before.
A formidable party. In total, there were nine experts of the Desolate Fortress's Demonlight Wing.
"I can't tell if that's an inn or a tavern. We'll rest there."
They entered the marketplace. Ma Jin's voice carried a deep resonance, as if infused with a thread of true qi.
The pedestrians, who had been scurrying along with anxious faces, brightened upon seeing the martial uniforms of the Desolate Fortress.
The Desolate Fortress was by no means a sect that remained confined to Huguang. It was said they won the hearts of the common people far more effectively than any Censor, for they were the ones who broke the blades of the martial artists threatening them.
The party stopped in front of a tavern.
It was quite large but had a flimsy structure, though it was still the best building in the vicinity.
Dismounting from his horse, Heonwon Chang looked around.
"Is this Xinye County? It's different from what I heard."
To traverse Henan from the Desolate Fortress, they had to pass through Xinye County. They had already passed the site where the Jeong Family Manor once stood.
It was completely in ruins. What the Thieving Ghost had said was true. Not a single tree could be seen on the mountain behind it.
He said they burned it all down.
Baek Mi-ryeo glanced at Jeong Yeon-shin's expressionless face.
Stroking her long, pale fingers, she soon spoke.
"With the local lord gone, the Black Way factions are free to run rampant. The back-alley thugs must be managing everything."
It was then.
"...With the Jeong Family Manor gone, this place is practically heaven. The boss was floored. The income from the forest lands those bastards were monopolizing is just..."
"The Blood Flame Cult did us a favor. I was worried I'd have to throw myself in the river if I got kicked out of the gang."
"A faint-hearted bastard like you learning a Blood Art? Don't make me laugh!"
Boisterous voices echoed all the way outside. It was the largest tavern in Xinye County.
The identity of the crowd was obvious.
The casual way they discussed joining the Blood Flame Cult showed they lived with no regard for the future.
Jeong Yeon-shin's brow furrowed.
The income from the forest lands.
He recalled the day he left for the Desolate Fortress.
The manager had said he would take care of it. That money was not meant to fall into the hands of Black Way bastards.
"Let's go in."
While Cheong-myeong was leaving the horses with the waiter, Jeong Yeon-shin took the lead.
Even the experts of the Demonlight Second Team followed his lead, taking their cue from their youngest member. They were good people.
As he parted the swaying beaded curtain and stepped inside, the noise briefly ceased.
Contrary to its outward appearance, the interior was very spacious.
A bald man holding an axe, another performing tricks with a dagger, and several men with their shirts thrown open were the first to catch his eye.
Men of all sorts were grinning foolishly, each with a courtesan in his arms.
They appeared to be warriors of the Black Way, but not a single face was familiar. They all seemed to have come from elsewhere.
Jeong Yeon-shin took a step forward and spoke calmly.
"You lot. Explain what you meant about the Jeong Family Manor's land."
"What?"
One of them smirked. And just as he opened his mouth, likely to call him a greenhorn—
Heonwon Chang, stepping in abruptly, reached under Jeong Yeon-shin's shoulder and flipped the front of his robe forward.
The movement displayed a level of skill surpassing most grappling techniques. By now, even Jeong Yeon-shin knew what it was for.
It was a method experienced seniors used in the Jianghu to bypass unnecessary trouble.
The lips of the man who saw the character for "Desolate" (荒) froze instantly. The crowd began to murmur.
"Go on," Jeong Yeon-shin said, completely unbothered. "Say what you were about to."