Jilin (8)

74. Jilin (8)

The servants of the Baek Clan Estate knew that Gyeong Su-yeon and I had that kind of relationship. So Gyeong Su-yeon left the room with a brief, casual farewell. But the moment she stepped out the door, someone grabbed her arm and pushed up her sleeve.

"Kyaa!"

Gyeong Su-yeon's startled shriek.

"I-I'm sorry, Miss Gyeong. There was something on your clothes, and I was just trying to brush it off..."

Tang Min apologized with a ridiculous excuse and met Gyeong Su-yeon's eyes. Put in a position where she could hardly say anything despite the absurd situation, Gyeong Su-yeon vanished in quick little steps, her face flushed.

"What is the matter, Miss Tang?"

"Ah... well... I came to apologize. I was very rude yesterday, wasn't I?"

Wow. This was refreshing. With Murong Rin being the only direct-line daughter of the Five Great Clans I'd ever dealt with, a straightforward apology like this left me flustered.

"I wanted to see you, Eun-hyeok oppa, but you didn't recognize me, so I felt sulky inside. I'm sorry."

Oh... oppa? Tang Min blushed and smiled at my startled face.

"You are Dan-yeong oppa's older brother, so you're my oppa too."

If you wanted to be technical about it, sure, but she was Dan-yeong's distant relative. To me, she was practically a total stranger.

"When I came to the Baek Clan Estate as a child, you played with me so nicely. Don't you remember, oppa?"

A memory from thirteen years ago. Naturally, I remembered almost nothing. Humans were animals whose childhood memories lasted a lifetime. Even an eighty-year-old might have hazy memories of what happened at seventy, ten years ago, but the alleyways and playgrounds they ran around in as a child, their mother's cooking, a birthday-present toy—those memories didn't easily fade. Coming to the Baek Clan Estate from the Tang Clan would have been a special memory for her, which was why she could remember it to this day. But the problem was, in my case, because I had the memories of my past life, my childhood was not fifteenth-century China but twenty-first-century—no, twentieth-century Republic of Korea. In terms of time, my memories of elementary school from nearly forty years ago were vivid, but I could barely remember the face of my mother in this life.

Had something happened back then? Without warning, Tang Min closed the distance between us.

"I have something to tell you, oppa. Come to Sichuan, oppa. Ah, I don't mean the kind of thing like yesterday, telling you to curry my favor like Beautiful Madness. I just want to protect you."

"You... want to protect me?"

"Oppa. Speak informally. Don't you like having a younger sister like me?"

Tang Min looked up at me with a slightly sulky expression. In the past, even at the cost of my life, I could never have spoken informally to a direct descendant of the Tang Clan, but now I could afford to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠let go of that restraint. Once the rumors about Black Heaven Association spread, even Tang Clan Head wouldn't be able to treat me however he pleased.

"All right. But what do you mean, protect me? And I told you yesterday. I'm a disciple of Yeongsan Sect now. I can't go to Sichuan."

"You said it was a small sect. Bring your master and your martial siblings and come to our Sichuan. Then you'll never have to be tormented by Beautiful Madness again."

Tang Min spoke as if she found the situation regrettable.

"Like I said, Murong Rin and I are friends. I did get tormented a bit, but nothing like that is going to happen from now on, so you don't need to worry so much."

"Oppa. You slept with Beautiful Madness!"

Tang Min's eyes snapped up fiercely as she asked me. Why did she keep doing this? There was no way, but did she like me or something?

"You're a man, so I understand. Beautiful Madness is a beauty, after all. But there's no way that woman sincerely loves you, oppa. She will discard you soon enough. In fact, Young Master Huangfu yesterday, Young Master Zhuge Son of the Zhuge Clan, and even my Il-hyeon oppa were all Beautiful Madness's playthings!"

The Five Great Clans' dense intelligence network, as expected. I wondered how the families were treating the living dildos Murong Rin had used and discarded by now.

"Of course I know all about that. But as you're well aware, Murong Rin's a woman who loves to show off. She's not the type to sleep with just anyone. The men she's sacrificed so far have all come from prestigious families, even if they're from collateral lines. You don't need to worry."

"Ah... r-right? Beautiful Madness isn't the only problem. Keep this to yourself, oppa. Liaoning's martial world is in chaos. Heuk Cheon-gyeon of the Black Heaven Association founded the Heavenly Wolf Sect in Liaoxi, then disappeared. The Black Heaven Association Leader and Geum Sa-hwa followed him, and their whereabouts also became unknown.

"I am certain the Black Heaven Association discovered a clue to the secret manual of a past master sleeping somewhere in Liaoning. A storm of blood will arrive soon. While the Martial Alliance is distracted by the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering, Liaoning will become a battlefield. Bring your master and fellow disciples to Sichuan at once. I'll help you settle in quickly, so don't worry."

Damn that Cheonghwa Hall Master. I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠didn't know what he was thinking, controlling the information, but by suppressing it so stubbornly, rumors like this were being created!

A secret manual of a past-generation master? That was laughable. Those bastards had been slaughtered and lay dead at the hands of the previous generation's masters.

"This is no time to laugh! Oppa, yesterday you said you obtained a fortunate encounter in Liaoning, didn't you? That's definitely what the Black Heaven Association is searching for with fire in their eyes. Your life is under threat from the Black Heaven Association right now, don't you understand?"

Tang Min spoke as if she were frustrated. It seemed the idea that the Black Heaven Association was searching for a secret manual had grown out of the fortunate encounter I'd mentioned yesterday.

She was kind. An incomparably kind and upright child compared to Murong Rin. This was why Murong Hyeok-jung said the Murong Clan was a step below the Nangong and Tang Clans.

"Thanks for worrying about me. But there won't be any particular problem."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You'll find out soon enough, so don't worry."

Revealing it with my own mouth lacked style. Sooner or later, Tang Min, Huangfu Gun, and Song Ok would all have their moment of being stunned by the fact that they'd shared drinks with me yesterday. I stretched and headed for the dining hall. Time to eat breakfast and go back to my beloved Yeongsan Sect.

"Son! You're leaving already?!"

Father was startled when I said I'd leave right after eating.

"I have to get back quickly. I'm the youngest in my sect."

"Still, stay just a little longer. I'm going to have a sparring match with Reverend Hwa-il, so you should come cheer your father on!"

"A sparring match?"

"Yeah. As compensation for officiating the investiture ceremony yesterday, we agreed to spar once. Even if I can't beat a daoist from Mount Hua, if I lose too disgracefully, the Baek Clan Estate's reputation will be in shambles."

The price of the investiture ceremony was a chance to spar with the Estate Lord. It wasn't exactly compensation in my case either, but before I officiated the Murong Clan's expedition ceremony, I had received Son Yeong's treasured sword as a gift. Perhaps a well-connected daoist priest's rituals brought in tidy event revenue, like a popular celebrity. I'd only planned to find the Medicine Immortal's soul and return quickly, but things kept cropping up—Dan-yeong's investiture, my first meeting with the crazy aunt, and strange matters involving Gyeong Su-yeon and Tang Min.

In the end, I decided to watch Father's sparring match at the Hour of the Snake, nine in the morning, before leaving. Father had arranged it for my sake because I had once abandoned martial arts, then found a fortuitous encounter and returned to the path of martial learning.

A clan head's sparring match was no light matter. Even household retainers could not casually observe such a bout; it was held in a thoroughly secured place, such as the clan head's private training ground. My father stood in the center of the training ground, having shed his image as a drunkard, taking on the form of a solid martial artist. The martial arts of the Baek Clan Estate were based on Shaolin. Shaolin, the root of all martial arts under heaven. The characteristic of Shaolin martial arts was that they had no particular characteristic. That might sound like nonsense, but it meant that martial arts existed in every area, and like ours, they were well-balanced skills that could easily be arranged. My father's martial arts, inheriting this principle, were simply skills faithful to fast, strong, and solid fundamentals.

Reverend Hwa-il stood opposite with his sword. Mount Hua's defining traits were its endless transformations and variations, the pinnacle of dynamic swordsmanship in contrast to static Wudang. Father stamped the ground and charged with the White Shadow Hard Sword, while Hwa-il raised his sword and began moving in brilliant flourishes. It was a clash between the Heavy Sword and Illusory Sword. Father advanced majestically as though he could cut through steel, silently batting aside the sword's countless variations and steadily closing the distance. But once the renowned Plum Blossom Sword Art fully unfolded, the Sword Qi gathered on Father's blade was gradually shaved away.

The difference in levels was evident. After putting up a fairly good defense at first, my father was gradually trapped within that net-like web of sword strikes.

"As expected of Father. To maintain that kind of offensive against a martial artist from Mount Hua!"

Beside me, Dan-yeong, still unable to grasp the situation, clenched his fist and spoke.

"No. It'll be over within the next twenty moves. Father's sword hasn't touched Reverend Hwa-il even once. And that Plum Blossom Sword Art—it's been slowly expanding its domain and has now filled the entire training ground. Even his retreat is cut off now."

"N-no way!"

I understood wanting to cheer for Father, but regardless of their relative cultivation, he could not respond to that dazzling sword path. Neither the bandits he'd fought nor the Murong martial arts I had observed used such elaborate variations. Father's straightforward style was disadvantaged against the Plum Blossom Sword Art from the outset. When his sword finally cut through empty air and exposed a large opening, Hwa-il's blade transformed sixty-four times and instantly filled the training ground like scattering plum blossoms. Father calmly cut down countless blossoms, but his knee eventually touched the ground.

"I concede. Mount Hua's sword truly deserves its reputation. I blocked twenty-two of the final variations, but the remaining thirty were beyond me. Fifty-two transformations in a single sword strike... The world truly is vast."

My father spoke cheerfully, cleanly admitting his defeat.

"It was the difference of a single sheet of paper. The force infused in the Estate Lord's sword was also fearsomely strong and fierce. Once you have adapted to the transformations, the outcome will change."

Hwa-il spoke humbly and lightly steadied his breathing.

"You heard that? He said the difference was a single sheet of paper. Reverend Hwa-il acknowledged it too. So, little son, you must train hard in the White Shadow Hard Sword as well!"

"Yes, Estate Lord!"

Baek Dan-yeong answered in a loud voice, his spirit suddenly surging. I was embarrassed for my father and brother, steeped in their delusional sentiment, but I decided to just keep my mouth shut.

Single sheet of paper, my ass. That was Reverend Hwa-il's humility. That strike just now wasn't fifty-two—it was sixty-four. And even after dodging all of those, the next strike had been waiting. That strike had likely contained more than sixty-four transformations.

"This is a fine opportunity. Young Clan Head, take up your sword and come forward. Inadequate though I am, I would like to offer you some instruction."

"You... truly mean it?"

Receiving direct instruction from a master was the equivalent of getting personal training from a national team athlete. Dan-yeong's mouth fell wide open, and he went up to the training ground, unfolding his sword with all his strength. As this was instruction, not a bout, Hwa-il leisurely received his sword, pointing out each flaw and offering advice. It was an invaluable opportunity that would never come again for Dan-yeong. And by the same measure, I felt anew just how unfair this martial world was. It meant the bastards of Mount Hua Sect received that kind of guidance every single day.

"Now, it's the Eldest Young Master's turn."

Huh? Me too?

"I heard you recently gained Extreme Yang Qi through a fortunate encounter. A fortunate encounter is a thing to be grateful for, but a sword forged by Taoist studies will not be inferior to it."

Hwa-il seemed like a good person, but he came across as a bit of an old geezer. He spoke to me as if asking why, having finally become a daoist, I'd mastered Flame Blossom Art instead of Daoist martial arts. Though the Flame Emperor had trained me for a short time, honestly, at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my level, I couldn't even match my father. I wasn't going to win anyway, so just playing along to a reasonable degree was my usual way.

I picked up my sword, walked up to the training ground, and gave him the cupped-fist salute.

"I am Yeongmok of Yeongsan Sect."

"I am Hwa-il of Mount Hua."

I raised my Flame Qi, imbued it into my sword, and approached him with the Flame Blossom Steps. From what I had observed earlier, the range of the Plum Blossom Sword Art was no joke. To compensate for the unfair reach, I charged in like my father had, but sure enough, plum blossoms bloomed before my eyes. Sword qi could be deflected with sword qi. The Solar Sword Art was neither a Swift Sword nor an Illusory Sword, but it was still dazzlingly fast, and as powerful as the Heavy Sword. Its single flaw was its enormous consumption of internal energy, but the efficient internal energy management method the Flame Emperor had imprinted on me allowed me to use half the usual internal energy to unleash twice the power, so I could somehow manage to hold my own. Though I'd only just realized it myself, the difference between a martial artist with half a gapja of internal energy and one with a full gapja wasn't just double the capacity of usable internal energy. A master's internal energy was monstrous, but even its efficiency was different.

I cut down the plum blossoms with my blade of fire. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠One by one, as I cut them down, the blossoms multiplied more and more. When the count exceeded twelve blossoms, it became utterly unmanageable. I could vividly picture each individual blossom with my eyes, but my body couldn't keep up.

But at that moment, when despair seized me, my sword naturally began to trace the Taiji, even without performing the Spirit Possession Art, even without knowing the oral formula. The Taiji made those many plum blossoms vanish one by one, and even returned a few of them back to Hwa-il.

I heard the laughter of the Four Heroes. Those bastards were really going all out to forge me into a master.