Chapter 29
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 29
Chapter Title: The Vast Ocean
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Around the time the dim dawn light tinged the sliding paper door's lattice a faint blue.
I rose from my seat and straightened my clothes.
The sound of fastening my sword to my waist broke the silence, and a rustling came from the spot beside me.
"......Yi Yi?"
Senior Disciple's voice was thick with sleep, hazy and dazed.
Her slender shoulders trembled faintly as she tried to half-rise.
I hurried over and gently but firmly pressed her shoulders down, laying her back in place.
"Senior Disciple, sleep more. The sun hasn't risen yet—it's still early."
"Leaving already? Let me at least see you off......"
"No need. Rest well. I'll come back and pay my respects then."
Senior Disciple couldn't fight her heavy eyelids and slowly closed her eyes again.
I gazed down at her face until I heard her steady breathing, then slipped out of the room like a stealthy stray cat.
As I stepped out into the courtyard of Purple Cloud Pavilion, the chill dawn air seeped deep into my lungs.
It was a cold snap that sharpened my senses in an instant.
Diligent young Wudang Taoists were sweeping the grounds.
One familiar face spotted me and widened his eyes in surprise.
"Young Hero Yi Yi? Where are you off to in such a hurry this early?"
I forced a leisurely smile.
"Ah, just going for a walk. Figured I'd train a bit too."
"As expected of the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament champion. Safe travels."
Leaving their awed gazes behind, I broke into a run the moment I passed through the mountain gate.
The faster my heart pounded and my breath came, the cooler my mind grew.
My footsteps raced toward the abandoned house where the Flying Fan Sect was holed up, without a shred of hesitation.
Only one thought drove me: reclaim what was stolen and prove myself.
Today, I would finally step out from Senior Disciple's shadow and stand on my own.
In front of the abandoned house known as the Flying Fan Sect's lair.
I hid in the damp grass, reeking of mold.
Voices of low-ranking warriors drifted over the wall on the breeze.
Fear and contempt mingled in their tones.
"Did that bastard really get neutered?"
"Pretty much... He got hit by Poison Spider...."
"Fucking creepy. If mine was even a bit bigger than his, it'd have been me getting ripped off."
"Poor Taemuk. His huge dick was his only pride, and now he's a eunuch overnight. Tsk tsk."
A chill ran down my spine.
Poison Spider sounded like a madman.
I debated whether to strike while their guard was down or gather more intel.
"But what was with that freakout last night? Why'd he suddenly lose it?"
"All 'cause of that Mount Hua Sect bastard."
My body froze at those words.
Mount Hua Sect bastard?
Was he talking about me?
I held my breath and strained to listen.
"What're you on about? You said yesterday he was still sniffing around our tails."
"Last night at the inn, in the crowd, Poison Spider grabbed that guy's junk for a feel. Liked what she got, and it set her right off into heat...."
My mind went blank white.
The inn? In the crowd?
Fragments of memory flashed by.
The chaos of being swept through the throng.
That unpleasant, bizarre sensation of someone boldly groping my crotch revived vividly.
I'd dismissed it as a pickpocket or drunk's mistake.
But Poison Spider from the Flying Fan Sect had been there, scoped me out—and if she'd stolen the summoning token, it had to be her.
Rage, shame, and an indescribable horror coiled around my entire body.
Veins bulged on my clenched fists, ready to burst.
Thump, thump, thump.
My heart hammered against my ribs so loud it rang in my ears.
Four ruffians stood before me.
I recalled the unorthodox scum I'd faced at the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament.
Their stances were utterly sloppy.
Shoulders slumped, centers of gravity all over the place.
Compared to the brilliant talents of the righteous sects I'd met after, they were no better than scarecrows.
'Unorthodox arts are always weak in fundamentals, relying on tricks. At their level, one sword stroke should....'
I had confidence.
The sword path in my mind was flawless.
I wouldn't even need the flashy variations of Plum Blossom Swordsmanship—even basic Six Harmonies Sword could sever their necks.
But my hands shook.
Sweat slicked my grip on the hilt.
'Killing.'
In training, I'd slashed thousands of times at straw dummies. Sparring partners were my fellow sect brothers.
At the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament, Wudang elders had kept things in check.
Never once had I sliced living flesh, shattered bone, and stained my hands with hot blood.
Mount Hua didn't strictly forbid killing, but the weight of taking a life crushed my shoulders.
'Should I report to the authorities?'
No—had I forgotten what happened in Chang'an?
Officials cared more for their own safety and pockets than justice.
Besides, this was the jianghu, ruled by martial law.
To reclaim what was taken, blood might be inevitable.
Then, a vivid memory flashed in my mind.
Senior Disciple's icy gaze as she beheaded the Chang'an bandit chief without flinching.
Casually flicking the blood from her blade.
Her voice echoed in my ears like a hallucination.
I bit my lip hard.
Every time weakness reared its head, her shadow whipped me forward.
I wanted her recognition. To stand proudly at her side.
Shring—
The faint scrape of steel, and the blade slid from its sheath.
Their chatter cut off at the chilling metallic ring.
I swallowed my trembling breath and regripped my sword.
No more hesitation.
"Who's there?"
One of them barked sharply into the darkness.
I pushed through the brush and revealed myself.
The Flying Fan Sect thugs froze for a moment, then snickered, glancing at each other.
"Isn't that the guy? Mount Hua's Dragon-Phoenix kid."
"What? Alone? No way. Anyone behind him?"
They peeked behind me but sensed no one, then started mocking openly.
"Jutae got knocked out in one move in the prelims—looks like they thought he was easy pickings at that level."
"Winner's arrogance?"
Their blatant scorn stung my ears.
I suppressed my boiling rage and leveled my sword.
"I'm here for something they took. Step aside... and I'll spare your lives."
They burst out laughing, clutching their bellies.
That jeer was my signal.
I kicked off the ground and closed the distance in a flash.
With Plum Blossom Steps' subtlety, I could take them before they reacted.
But—
Pop—!
The lead thug pulled a gourd from his robes and scattered its contents into the air.
Red powder bloomed like mist, shrouding my vision.
"Cough!"
A vicious spiciness stabbed my nose and throat.
Blinding pain seared my eyes; snot and spit drooled uncontrollably from nose and mouth.
I knew it was an unorthodox dirty trick, but my untrained body was helpless.
Whoosh!
They didn't miss the opening—their swords lunged in.
I instinctively twisted my head, dodging the first strike.
My Mount Hua-honed body reacted sharply even with sight blocked.
But that was just the beginning.
Clang, clang! Thud!
"Ngh!"
Dodge one, two came at me; block two, three sought gaps.
This wasn't a righteous duel.
Stabbing eyes, targeting legs, spraying more powder—a messy, vile barrage.
My breathing faltered.
My chest burned like fire.
Grip tightened on my sword, but my stance crumbled.
'This... impossible.'
Me, the Dragon-Phoenix champion, pushed back by these grunts?
Each time their blade tips tore cloth or grazed flesh, harsh reality shredded my pride.
Only then did I realize.
This wasn't the rule-bound arena—it was the wild, where lives hung by a thread and we tore at each other like beasts.
I gritted my teeth.
Vision still locked in red fog.
Basic swordplay couldn't pierce this encirclement—despair washed over me.
Only one option left: Mount Hua's unfinished secret technique.
'Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Technique!'
Imperfect form, ragged breath.
Forcing up my qi sent scorching pain from my dantian, like my body was cooking from within.
No choice.
A chill aura exploded from my blade tip.
Dozens of plum blossoms bloomed in the air.
No—half-formed red buds that never fully opened.
"Argh!"
"W-what the...!"
Screams erupted as they tumbled back from all sides.
Imperfect as it was, the power overwhelmed Flying Fan Sect grunts.
Flesh sprayed, blood soaked the ground.
But not lethal.
My blinded eyes missed vitals; the sword qi fizzled short.
"Cough! Hack!"
The backlash spewed a mouthful of blood from me.
Qi reversal twisted my meridians, agony squeezing my organs.
But I couldn't stop.
Had to move before they regrouped.
Staggering, I dashed deeper into the house.
No time to gauge lurking threats or more foes in the dark.
At the edge of my blurry sight, an old water jar.
All I needed now was that cold splash.
'Eyes first... wash my eyes.'
Swallowing pain, I plunged into the black maw of the ruin.
I scooped and splashed water over my face.
The icy chill soothed my burning eyes and nose; vision cleared bit by bit.
Stinging pain lingered, but I could make out shapes now.
Panting roughly, I raised my head.
And my breath caught.
Deep in the ruin, amid moldy decay unfit for it, a woman lay atop lavish silk brocade bedding.
Stark naked. Her pale, smooth skin gleamed starkly even in shadow.
Those vile ruffians outside...
A victim trapped in their den, abused?
Why else would a woman lie like that in such a dank hole?
"Mm...... who're you?"
A lazy, sticky voice as she stirred and sat up.
Her curves bared fully—I flinched and whipped my head away.
"Ah, s-sorry! I didn't mean—I was just fleeing the thugs outside. Not here to harm you, miss!"
My face burned unbearably.
Flustered, unsure where to look, I stammered.
"I-I'm Yi Yi of Mount Hua Sect. If they've got you captive, I'll... I'll definitely rescue you. Rest easy!"
A low chuckle came from behind me.