Chapter 694 – Whistle

Duke Zhuang dreams a dream like something from Zhuangzi’s tales. Inside his head, events from the distant past unfold dreamlike like the fluttering of butterfly wings. It was a dream filled with the scent of tree bark.

[TL Note- Duke Zhuang was a monarch during Qin Dynasty Era, reigning from 821 BC to 778 BC.]

The shaven-headed noble clan monk, Four Great Vajra Won-jeok, stood in the center of it all. In a very vivid dream from the distant past that still brings torment to the present.

“Zhang Sanfeng…”

The voice echoed through the densely wooded forest. A voice that called out the name of Wudang’s founding patriarch. It was as gentle as leaves rustling.

She was a dark-haired middle-aged beauty.

Her leaf-tip-like eyes were striking. Though she seemed to have a gentle impression at first glance, she also possessed a sharp temperament, which made her mysterious. All the more so because she was the one who led foreign noble clans to the Central Plains and harmonized them with the Han people.

The clan chief.

It was Grand Empress Dowager Wei Yan in her younger days.

At this moment, she was moving her lips with a rarely seen regretful expression.

“We part ways here.”

Her voice was as sharp and resolute as a blade. Even though these words were directed at none other than the Martial God of Mount Wudang.

“Your natural body… you’ve mastered the northern martial learning. You said it would be hard to surpass the frequency of delving into Natural Sword techniques.”

The old Taoist jested.

Wrinkles that seemed to contain all kinds of joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness.

On his dusty gray belt was elegantly inserted a sword hilt with pine tree patterns, yet his face overflowed with abundant emotions like a bouquet woven by a child.

“It was worthless pride.”

Wei Yan shook her head.

“You bestowed many favors so our clan wouldn’t be rejected. Thus we ceased to be foreigners. Go back. We will forever treat you as a benefactor.”

Though only her lips moved, her entire body seemed to surge violently like a gale. Even with Won-jeok’s mind that had undergone a hundred years of Thunder-facing plus cultivated the Bone-Marrow Cleansing Scripture, it was a battle readiness beyond his comprehension.

Zhang Sanfeng laughed.

“The student surpasses the master. There’s no longer any need to teach Central Plains techniques. Please descend the mountain.”

He was as friendly as a Taoist priest you might find at any small village shrine. A temperament that raced through the extremes of worldliness.

Any noble clan member would have felt it immediately. He was so extremely human that he seemed inhuman. Because he would seem human in any situation.

Four Great Vajra Won-jeok, who had held his hundred years of Thunder-facing as great pride, chanted Buddha’s name in the vivid, Taoist dream like Zhuangzi’s butterfly dream.

‘Amitabha.’

He was aware that World Tree had plunged him into dreams. It had been endlessly repeated as if trying to shatter his spirit and break his precepts. Now it was a greatly faded and embellished past, an old story that only noble clans were permitted to reminisce about.

Won-jeok stood beside Wei Yan.

At this time, though he had long been ordained, he wasn’t yet a Shaolin disciple, but Wei Yan had established a small temple nearby and made Won-jeok the clan’s dharma protector. She told him to compete with the clan’s talents for the position of ‘Northern Dark Fist Marquis’ among the four noble ranks of duke, marquis, count, and viscount.

“If the Taoist shows signs of coming here, immediately use advance movement techniques. Both of you.”

Wei Yan spoke. Orders given to Won-jeok and another dharma protector, a beautiful noble clan youth with soft brown hair like the inner bark of trees. The one who would later be called Golden Thunder.

“Even so, chariot formation is a bit much.”

“……”

“The clan chief has changed too. I suppose everyone becomes like that when leading a nation. All about saving face.”

The youth said.

This was a time when stories circulated like established truth that the greatest master of all time had descended from Mount Wudang. Just as when the Muscle-Changing Classic was created, Bodhidharma was considered the greatest of all time, and when the first Heavenly Demon laughed into the world, the Ming Cult martial lineage was regarded as the strongest of all time.

It was an era when one Martial God pacified all under heaven.

Even joint attacks weren’t shameful.

Because far beyond Wei Yan’s shoulder as she blocked Zhang Sanfeng, World Tree existed, having just emerged from its sapling state. Hidden seamlessly in the lush forest of a bountiful year.

“Since I didn’t come to fight.”

Zhang Sanfeng’s mouth moved.

“With one step of Ladder to Heaven, I could pass by you. But I only want to extract one promise. There’s also something I need to do while I’m here.”

“You invaded the clan’s innermost sanctum for just that promise? Taking World Tree hostage?”

To Wei Yan’s emotionless question, Zhang Sanfeng smiled slightly.

“I admit the threat wasn’t gentlemanly.”

Suddenly green mirages swirled coolly in Wei Yan’s grasp. The sight of visible wind currents rising strand by strand from her body.

It was a harbinger of Formless Sword manifestation. Won-jeok knew that sword forged by the ‘Wind King’s’ explosive power had shattered even the sorcery domain of the madman Dark Heaven Emperor into pieces.

‘If he had entered just one inch more, his head would have been severed, but he vanished in an instant.’

That heterogeneous emptiness’s true words were “Going, Sanfeng.” From right after the Ming Dynasty was fully established, literally everything was filled with the name Zhang Sanfeng.

Even here it was the same.

“Though I didn’t choose my clan myself, I sought out and served my master…”

Step.

Suddenly Golden Thunder, who had moved close to the old Taoist, stood facing Wei Yan as if confronting her. He had fluidly changed sides.

“I can’t commit unfilial acts between master and disciple. I spent over ten years chasing after him begging to be accepted as a disciple and seeking teachings. Isn’t that right, Elder Sanfeng?”

“I’ve pondered for that long, but it’s time to acknowledge it.”

Swish.

The wrinkled hand was placed on Golden Thunder’s crown. Did he think he was being patted on the head? The youth’s eyes, which had been grinning, suddenly turned bright gold. Golden radiance began leaking like smoke from his hardened lips as well.

Rumble!

The sound of opening the Governing and Conception Vessels. It thundered from Golden Thunder’s head. An aged voice mixing into that roar was simultaneous.

“I ask forgiveness for only now accepting you as a disciple. The price of serving this old fool as master is quite considerable.”

“……!”

“World Tree will grow large. Wood energy should also flow through your Hundred Meetings acupoint. You must see that tree’s end.”

Golden Thunder didn’t answer. He only trembled like he’d been struck by lightning. It was truly a sudden occurrence. For Won-jeok, it was a scene that brought both shock and doubt every time he saw it.

Zhang Sanfeng, who had roamed freely across the Central Plains and northern lands, had experienced countless betrayals but had never first harmed anyone.

‘…Just once.’

It was the only day he wasn’t human.

The Zhang Sanfeng of this time was a divine existence. With one gesture he could pierce all the blood channels of a young talent, transforming them into a supreme master, acting impulsively and speaking only incomprehensible words.

Like an old man on his deathbed finally facing things he had long postponed.

“My head couldn’t discriminate between heaven and earth’s energies, so my youth was quite dark, but you’re different. You certainly won’t be short-lived. However…”

Zhang Sanfeng said.

“Your youth will be dark in another sense.”

It was an instant.

When even Golden Thunder’s hair turned golden, Wei Yan stood to Zhang Sanfeng’s left. While unleashing low mental transmission like a storm.

[Are you about to die? You strike first.]

Thud…

The hand she had extended was struck by some leather shoe sole and bounced away trembling. Shock waves that exploded from that impact point drew layer upon layer of whitish ripples, and in an instant the ground with a diameter of ninety zhang sank down like a crater.

It was the Radiant Demon Technique. From before Divine Sword Group’s Radiant Demon Wing or even Desolate Fortress was established.

Crash!

The roar that exploded a full breath late.

From within the extremely thick dust cloud that rose like cannon smoke, Wei Yan’s mental transmission seeped out bearing anger.

[Yue Feng…!]

“What’s going on here?”

Through gaps in the dust, ears sharp as broken blades flickered. Evidence of mixed-blood noble clan heritage. The old man who had been Divine Sword Group Leader for the shortest period among all generations stood crookedly.

“Old folks like us, without any dignity.”

His words and even his tone were as humble as chattering old men from the marketplace.

Zhang Sanfeng looked disgusted as if seeing a neighborhood troublemaker.

“Why did you follow me?”

“Well, it’s difficult to separate you from the eyes of our child who’s like a young sprout. Isn’t constantly keeping the greatest of all time in one’s sight like taking spiritual medicine?”

“Excessive greed, excessive greed.”

“If you still say that after raising an extremely clever child from five or six years old, then I’ll listen to the Taoist’s words as golden advice. You who have no children.”

The old man who would become the first Divine Sword Group Leader spoke.

He wore an extremely shabby pink long robe hanging down to his feet. Plain clothing without any inscriptions. This was before the name ‘Desolate’ had been born in the Central Plains.

Wei Yan, who had grasped Golden Thunder’s nape and withdrawn, spoke expressionlessly.

“Yue Feng, child of a half-breed clan. Though your bloodline is lowly, your sword talent was extraordinary, so I entrusted that child to you. Yet you show no gratitude and cause trouble here?”

“Enough nonsense, first step aside. Anyone who adopts and raises a child…”

“Be quiet. I have nine children.”

“You are indeed an empress.”

Soon Won-jeok’s vision became hazy with mist. Because three had made their moves. It wasn’t a speed the young dharma protector’s eye techniques could follow, and even now in this dream it was the same.

[No promise can be made with World Tree at stake. Since even Yue Feng has arrived, matters will become even more complicated. Return now.]

“That would be difficult. I’ve finally unraveled all the principles connecting World Tree and gates.”

[Sanfeng!]

Wei Yan’s body vanished as if distorting.

At the same time, the bluish grassland lay down large in a taiji pattern and rippled gently centered on Zhang Sanfeng.

Perhaps because of this.

Though two transcendents had entered the domain of absolute speed where even small gestures could collapse mountains, there were no proper aftereffects. A fight where no explosive sounds or vibrations could be heard or felt.

In a situation where the entire nearby terrain changing wouldn’t be enough, there was only nothingness everywhere. Neither figure could be seen. Meanwhile, Yue Feng’s purple robe fluttered simultaneously here and there.

“The child is watching! Talk it out, I said!”

Won-jeok, who had been supporting Golden Thunder whose eyes had rolled back, suddenly lowered his head.

Rustle.

Small bare feet brushed against the undergrowth.

A girl who looked about fourteen or fifteen was looking up at him. The deepest green eyes in all the world. At this moment, transparent sunlight was rippling like pearls.

‘Desolate Fortress Lord…!’

Won-jeok knew this was a world of heart demons arising from World Tree. Yet his heart stopped every time he saw the young Desolate Fortress Lord. Because everything about the girl was vivid. Her presence and breath, energy waves, even her conduct.

It wasn’t just her.

It was always like this.

When Won-jeok showed words or actions different from what actually happened, Yue Feng and Wei Yan, even Zhang Sanfeng, showed appropriate reactions. World Tree’s overwhelming spirituality had completely manifested this era’s world.

It was as if Won-jeok’s memories had torn apart the past of all creation.

To dig into what Zhang Sanfeng had done that day, how much he had learned, and what he had intended.

‘Samsara, samsara again…’

Won-jeok was trapped in the endlessly repeating wheel of time. In the shackles of the past where going mad at any time wouldn’t be strange. This was probably why World Tree specifically targeted Won-jeok even though Wei Yan and Golden Thunder were at the main tree.

Because those two were major forces of the World Tree faction.

It was then.

“This.”

The young Desolate Fortress Lord moved her lips.

“Won’t you listen?”

Though the condescending tone of the specially noble bloodline among the clan was awkward like this, Won-jeok silently accepted the nine-fold plate lunch box she handed him. It had already been repeated dozens of times.

What use was the facade of being Shaolin’s Four Great Vajra?

He was dying in heart demons, unable to endure samsara.

It was then.

“Who is that?”

A thin white finger pointed beyond Won-jeok’s shoulder. Something that hadn’t happened before. Won-jeok’s face brightened as he whipped his head around like the wind.

“Dharma power cultivator! How are you here…? I see you’ve undergone appearance transformation! You’ve really grown beyond recognition! No, how on earth did this…!”

Won-jeok, who had closed the distance with Vajra Immovable Divine Method, looked over the dazzling young man before him with an expression of disbelief. Then he gripped both his shoulders powerfully like golden-armed monkeys. He was worried that in this absurdly clear world, only the person before his eyes might scatter like smoke.

Creak.

The purple robe wrinkled. The touch was real.

Won-jeok’s eyes widened. His mouth opened and closed. Then slowly, words that relieved his loneliness flowed out.

“…Come to think of it, your divine art breathing was extraordinary. With that upper energy center spirit, you could well imitate the dream techniques of the dream demon body.”

Hehe, uhaha. Meaningless laughter leaked out. Before it had been because of Jeong Yeon-shin’s dharma power, but now it was because that cooperation and virtue had touched him.

“Right, did the Abbot send you? Unless two energy centers or acupoints are in an uncontrollable state like a wooden person, you must have intentionally manifested only upper energy center abilities to reach this place! What am I, this useless noble clan monk… that you would risk danger to save this monk!”

Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t answer.