Chapter 67
Chapter 67
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Vine
Chapter: 67
Chapter Title: Strange Person (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
‘So he escaped after all.’
Then again, it was unlikely for someone like the Demonic Doctor to move without any backing.
Knowing that, I sought the help of the Beggars' Sect instead of pursuing him myself, but...
Tsk.
Ouyang Jue tapped the bird's beak twice, expressing his disappointment.
The bird chirped and flew back to where it came from. The Beggars' Sect's signature knot tied to its leg was almost cute.
He then turned his head to look at Jo Hun.
“Hiyah!”
Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead, yet he constantly corrected his faltering stance and swung again.
A whoosh, a swish, a sharp stop!
A hundred times in total. Only after perfecting it could he move on to the next form.
It was an incredibly harsh training regimen for a ten-year-old boy. Countless children would declare they'd do it with gusto, only to give up in no time.
Yet, Jo Hun was steadfastly carrying on.
He wanted to tell him it was okay to take small breaks, but that would be disrespectful to a practitioner.
Meanwhile, Jo Hun's sword was tracing a different line.
“Plum Blossom Falling Flash!”
A sword technique that strikes at the enemy's blind spot by dropping the blade in an instant.
But when the small-statured Jo Hun executed it, the form lacked presence. It looked more like a technique for splitting a rabbit's head.
Normally, he should strictly refrain from interfering, but repeating an incorrect posture could damage his bones and muscles.
Just as Jo Hun, grunting with effort, repeated the move for the second time, Ouyang Jue spoke.
“Don't just stick to what you were taught. Imagine an enemy in front of you.”
“...Ah, ah! Yes, Senior Brother!”
Jo Hun seemed to close his eyes for a moment, and then his posture immediately changed.
Shing!
The change was so instantaneous that Ouyang Jue wondered if he might have misunderstood the advice.
But then.
Watching Jo Hun perform the Plum Blossom Falling Flash, Ouyang Jue let out a small gasp of admiration.
‘The seeds of the Path of Zen Scripture are already showing. To achieve the correct posture with just a single piece of advice.’
But that wasn't all. Around the twenty-second repetition of the Plum Blossom Falling Flash, Jo Hun's movements changed.
From the Plum Blossom Opens its Path, Plum Blossom Breathes Fire, Plum Blossom Butterfly Dance, to the Plum Blossom Blooms in Anger he had just performed.
He moved forward, skillfully executing the forms he had learned so far.
As if to say the practice was over, he pressed his imaginary foe to secure victory.
Jo Hun displayed proper breath control and even a flexibility that suggested he could switch to a defensive stance at any moment.
Of course, it would all be useless against overwhelming strength or exquisite skill that could shatter it.
Ouyang Jue watched Jo Hun, who was absorbed in his training with his eyes closed, and chuckled.
“No need to disturb him.”
Ouyang Jue's steps led him toward the spacious training ground.
There, many disciples, both ordained and secular, were practicing their martial arts.
“Haap!”
“...Keuk!”
Some tried to find their weaknesses through simple sparring. It even led to them getting tangled up with each other at times.
A fervor for training not normally seen.
It was clear they had realized there was a path not only in the Dao but also in martial arts. Ouyang Jue smiled warmly at them.
‘Fortunately, it seems the incident with Cheol Geum-san hasn't spread widely.’
Whether they became masters or languished as first-rate warriors before putting down their swords, for now, it was proof that Mount Hua was reviving.
Even the children of officials, who had no interest in martial arts, had joined as secular disciples. It was clear that the Mount Hua Sect's reputation had grown significantly from this incident.
“Ouyang, Junior Brother, you're here?”
At the sudden voice, Ouyang Jue turned his head with a faint smile.
It was not a genuine smile, but one reserved for someone who was merely his senior brother in rank.
“Yes, have you been well?”
“Well? Thanks to you, Junior Brother, Mount Hua's honor is soaring to the heavens! As your senior brother, what could be better than this!”
Cheok Jun-hwan, a first-generation disciple under Gwak Un-pae, stroked his bushy beard and laughed heartily.
“Even the Senior-most Brother, who is sick in bed, would be greatly pleased to see you.”
“...”
“Ah, my mistake. I've brought up an unpleasant topic. My apologies.”
“Not at all. I, too, am indebted to the Senior-most Brother.”
He said as much, but wasn't this man just Gwak Un-pae minus the seriousness and tact?
Ouyang Jue clicked his tongue inwardly.
But he didn't let his smile fade. Ouyang Jue naturally handed over the hemp cloth draped around his neck.
“You seem to be sweating a lot. Why don't you rest for a bit?”
“Thanks. I was just about to take a break.”
Cheok Jun-hwan wiped his forehead with the cloth Ouyang Jue gave him and plopped down on a nearby rock.
Then, as if he had just remembered something, he asked Ouyang Jue.
“I heard you've been practicing a certain martial art since returning from Wudang... Any progress with that?”
Has word spread that I was practicing recreating the Sword's Cry from time to time after clashing with the True Sword Master?
Ouyang Jue nodded lightly.
“I heard that the origin of the Sword's Cry that Elder Gwak performs is from Wudang, so I thought I might learn a little through this opportunity.”
“Ah, so you're trying to interpret our master's sword arts on your own. If that's the case, even this inadequate senior brother can offer some help.”
Cheok Jun-hwan grinned and stood up.
Immediately after, Cheok Jun-hwan's body trembled as his internal energy condensed at the tip of his sword.
Ssssss...
Layers of internal energy built upon it.
Then, in an instant, a wide, disc-shaped sword qi formed.
Cheok Jun-hwan's face had already turned pale.
The sword qi maintained its hazy white color before quickly dissipating.
“This is as far as I can go. I hear the basic requirement for the Sword's Cry is to be able to move this and give it form.”
Hearing this, Ouyang Jue's expression became subtle.
‘It's hard to act impressed by something I already know.’
But he couldn't just look serious after the other person had shown him something with all sincerity.
Ouyang Jue feigned great admiration and tried to imitate it.
“Keuh, this is incredibly difficult.”
“Right? Haha, it's no ordinary feat. To create and fire sword qi before the opponent even notices.”
‘So he still doesn't know the core principle.’
Ouyang Jue suppressed the urge to correct him.
Creating and firing sword qi quickly is important, but the most crucial secret is unity with the Great Void.
To hide one's body in the sunlight pouring from the sky, to conceal one's sound within the wind—that is the Sword's Cry.
That was Gwak Un-pae's signature technique, with which he had supposedly cut down six warriors the moment he drew his sword.
But what could he do? The man before him had only scratched the surface.
Ouyang Jue accepted this and, after some appropriate conversation, saw him off.
As soon as he had dealt with one person, a familiar voice called out.
“Jue!”
Liu Zhangming waved his hands back and forth with a cheerful voice.
This was not good. Whenever Liu Zhangming was this fussy, something bizarre was bound to happen.
Like the time he was tricked by a medicine peddler when they went to expose the corruption of the Golden Ring Merchant Guild.
Ouyang Jue had to swallow his anxiety.
“What is it?”
“Well, a boy has come, saying he wants to become your disciple!”
“...?”
‘What's the big deal about that?’
As Ouyang Jue stared at him with a blank expression, Liu Zhangming looked away awkwardly.
“Ahem, hem. I thought you'd be pleased, but you seem rather unenthusiastic... Did you already know?”
“No, well. I figured someone like that might show up eventually.”
“Then shouldn't you be more welcoming?”
To that, Ouyang Jue answered honestly.
“You and I may be orphans the Sect Leader personally took in at a young age, but that boy is not. If we accept everyone who wants to be a disciple, the hierarchy of Mount Hua will become a mess.”
“Mm, that's true, but...”
Liu Zhangming stopped mid-sentence and glanced to the side.
A boy with a grimy face stood there vacantly.
His eyes were so lifeless it was hard to even tell he was standing there.
‘From his shoulders to the thickness of his hand bones, he's a natural-born martial artist.’
Just as Ouyang Jue felt a flicker of curiosity, the boy spoke.
“U-um...”
Every word was laden with heaviness. It was difficult even to listen.
And his posture.
He held his hands together neatly, appearing polite, but in reality, it seemed he knew nothing but how to bow and scrape.
His clasped hands were trembling.
To ease his fear, Ouyang Jue offered a gentle smile.
“What is your name?”
“Cheong Pung.”
“Cheong Pung.”
Ouyang Jue looked at the items wrapped in Cheong Pung's cloth and smiled bitterly.
A skein of silk thread on the verge of breaking, a cheap earthenware jar with a crack in its mouth, and half-spoiled beef jerky.
It was no different from the tradition handed down since the ancient sage Confucius.
There was no major issue with accepting him as a disciple. But Ouyang Jue shook his head.
“I'm sorry, but I cannot do that.”
“Why... why not?”
“A sect has rules and procedures that must be followed. No one would readily accept a disciple who just shows up out of the blue asking to be taken in.”
At those words, Cheong Pung fought the urge to collapse where he stood, his face falling into a gloomy expression.
Tears welled in his eyes, as if he might burst into tears at any moment.
But the Daoists watching did not try to stop Ouyang Jue.
Because every word Ouyang Jue said was right, some Daoists might mutter to themselves, but none could object.
Then, Ouyang Jue tapped his shoulder.
Cheong Pung's eyes widened at the warm energy that flowed into him through his tiny pores.
“So, why don't you first enter the Mount Hua Sect through your own will?”
Ouyang Jue pointed to those diligently practicing their sword arts in the training ground.
“Everyone here will be your senior brother. They are a family who will share your hardships and your darkness. They are also masters who will help you, at the very least, to live righteously as a person.”
“...”
“What do you think? Are you moved?”
Cheong Pung silently shed a tear.
At some point, Ik Hyeon brought a blanket and draped it over Cheong Pung's shoulders.
A short while later, with Ouyang Jue's help, Cheong Pung was able to enter the Mount Hua Sect as an introductory disciple.
However, no Daoist was willing to take Cheong Pung as a disciple. They had already accepted many introductory disciples and had no room for another.
Noticing Cheong Pung's unease, Liu Zhangming patted his head.
‘My junior brother seemed to want me to take the boy into my fold, seeing his excellent martial physique, but...’
Saying he was often away on business and would find it difficult to take in Cheong Pung, Ouyang Jue strongly urged Liu Zhangming to accept him.
But ultimately, it was Cheong Pung's choice.
Even if there was no one to serve as his master, it wouldn't be right to practically drag him into discipleship.
‘If there's still no one after a little time has passed, I can just take him in myself.’
Liu Zhangming gently squeezed Cheong Pung's shoulder.
“My junior brother, Jo Hun, and I will personally teach you the basic martial arts of the Mount Hua Sect.”
“Thank you! Thank you!”
At those words, Cheong Pung beamed and bowed his head deeply.
***
“Ugh, hic.”
A young man, who looked to be just around thirty, staggered down the main street.
His hair was soaked with sweat, and his clothes reeked of cheap liquor.
His appearance was so shabby that people actively avoided him. His clothes were practically rags.
“I hear even the Beggars' Sect doesn't go around looking that pathetic.”
“Shh, he'll hear you!”
“So what!”
Ignoring the glares from passersby, the man made his way to the marketplace.
His gaze was fixed on the steaming dumplings.
Then, whenever a crowd formed, he would deftly snatch one.
And then, a big bite.
Nom, gobble gobble.
After devouring the large dumpling without a trace, the man sucked his fingers and headed for a tavern.
Not to buy food, of course. It was to catch up on the latest rumors.
Just as the man was about to enter the tavern.
“Hey, I told you not to come here!”
“So what? The tavern isn't going to wear out just because I step inside, is it?”
The man nonchalantly pushed the waiter aside and plopped himself down in a seat.
His skill was so exquisite it could hardly be described in ten words, but no one recognized it.
Instead, the waiter who had tried to stop him was getting his head smacked by a middle-aged man who appeared to be the tavern owner.
‘How dull.’
The man, despite loathing this peace, listened to his surroundings.
Then, he overheard a story about a certain Daoist.
The Daoist in the rumors was not only incredibly brave but also strong and kind.
Hearing that he had reached the peak level before even coming of age, his interest was naturally piqued.
The man let out a loud belch and stood up.
“Ouyang Jue...”
...he muttered the Daoist's name.