Chapter 422 – Martial Lineage (3)

Footsteps echoed quietly on the earth.

Step.

Jeong Yeon-shin slowly descended to the ground, lowering his eyelids for a moment.

Perhaps because it was a summer forest, the humid heat pressed against his skin, while the sensation beneath his feet felt peculiar—damp and tough.

This was Jeong family land.

More precisely, it was the back mountain, the burial ground for the retainers of a great landlord family.

‘Strange rumors were circulating in Dengfeng County.’

Previously, he had arrived in the city beneath Mount Song with Radiant Demon Wing. It was Dengfeng County, just below Shaolin.

He was about to head straight for the guesthouse where those with business at Shaolin stayed, when he heard that the immortals of the Sun Piercing Diancang Sect had headed for Radiant Demon Wing Leader’s ancestral home.

He couldn’t not come. Last year, he hadn’t been able to visit the family graveyard.

Last year, at this time, he was in Sichuan—the day his maternal grandfather Ma Yeon-jeok attempted mutual destruction with the Blood Flame Cult Leader.

‘And yet…’

He slowly turned his head.

The scenery around him felt unfamiliar.

At this moment, the half-formed stone figures kneeling at the foot of the hill were nothing.

Even the words they had thrown at White Qilin Namgung Hwa-shin were less than a monkey’s breath.

A brick wall surrounded his mother’s grave like a royal tomb.

The muggy wind struck the stone wall with a dull whoosh—then blew toward Jeong Yeon-shin, and from the surface of that wall, he sensed an ominous energy.

‘Blood Flame Cult, Blood Shadow Rakshasa Hand.’

The cleanly cut surface was familiar.

It was the trace of an extremely sharp hand technique, neatly sliced by a powerful strike. There was no need to wonder who it was. There could only be one person.

It must have been one of the Seventh Aposte of the Blood Flame Cult.

‘There’s no energy left now, but what were they doing here…?’

Jeong Yeon-shin’s foundation, long since come of age, was the Jeong Family Dynamic Technique.

The essence of that martial art was his mother. Whatever happened in this graveyard, he would sense it acutely.

Even now, he felt the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

‘What should I do with you?’

He was reflecting anew on the grudges of the martial world when—

“So you’re Jeong family’s Lotus Nezha.”

An old, gravelly voice pierced his ears. It was clearly a low voice, yet it felt like an invisible blade was stirring inside his head.

Only then did Jeong Yeon-shin raise his head.

He saw an old woman, using a sword as a cane, planted in the earth. Standing beside her was the Little Sword Queen of the Sun Piercing Point Spear Sect.

Qu Su-yu, the Little Sword Queen, stared at Jeong Yeon-shin with wide eyes. Unlike when they’d met before, returning to the main family with his grandfather and the Elder Council Head, she was now busy scanning Jeong Yeon-shin’s attire.

“And you are?”

Jeong Yeon-shin asked.

Some disciples of the Sun Piercing Diancang Sect bristled at his tone. Their faces showed annoyance, but none dared to speak out.

It was because the sect leader herself had stepped forward. Such was the discipline of a prestigious orthodox sect.

“My name is Kim Seon-seon.”

The old woman gazed at him.

That was enough.

Even without further introduction, anyone from the orthodox martial world would be awed, while those of the Sima Evil Path would be checking whether their heads were still attached.

The Sword Empress Kim Seon-seon’s mark on the martial world was that great.

A few years ago, she had famously split the mouth of the Yangtze at Red Cliff, facing the combined might of the Three Immortals of Mount Tai.

At that time, all of the southern region was abuzz with the tale. Even Jeong Yeon-shin, then training the Jeong Family Dynamic Technique in rural XinyeCounty, had heard of it.

He slowly made a martial salute.

“I am Jeong Yeon-shin.”

Swish.

The hem of his purple robe shimmered softly as it fell. The old woman, who had been watching in silence, spoke slowly.

“So, Desolate Fortress… has gained a new purple.”

“I am still lacking.”

“…I can’t tell if it’s a blessing that you’re not Black rank, or if we should worry that the coming storm in the martial world will be even bloodier. Desolate Fortress is not a place that shows mercy just because the opponent is an orthodox sect, is it?”

“I have never doubted the righteousness of the orthodox sects. As long as the welfare of the people is prioritized above the prosperity of the secular martial clans, Desolate Fortress will treat the disciples of mountain sects as immortals.”

Jeong Yeon-shin replied calmly.

Perhaps it was because he was now fully dressed in new attire, but every word he spoke carried the weight of one who represented Desolate Fortress.

Maybe it was because Divine Sword Group Leader Yong Hui-myeong had called him “a person of dignity.” He felt a sense of responsibility he’d never had before.

In fact, the Sword Empress before him, despite her blunt words, was scrutinizing Jeong Yeon-shin’s every movement from the start.

Even though she had built her fame over decades as the Sun Piercing Point Spear Sect’s greatest swordswoman.

“…I heard you came to comfort my mother.”

“I won’t say there was no ulterior motive. But I intended to show utmost respect.”

At her words, Jeong Yeon-shin turned to Ma Se-in behind him. As soon as he met the eyes of his distant Ma clan relative, he asked,

“What happened?”

“What about you? I heard you went to Beijing with the Group Leader, but that robe… is it really…?”

“You’re wearing blue. It suits you.”

“Why does it suit you… No, never mind… Please, go ahead.”

Ma Se-in bowed his head slightly to Jeong Yeon-shin.

He seemed to have belatedly realized there were others present. Jeong Yeon-shin, smiling faintly, asked about what had happened, and Ma Se-in answered readily.

He explained that the Diancant Sect, honoring the Radiant Demon Wing Leader’s achievements in Sichuan, had come here, and that Desolate Fortress had followed because they couldn’t just stand by. The South Zhili nobles had come along because they had business with White Qilin Namgung Hwa-shin…

All the while, Namgung Hwa-shin stood quietly.

He wasn’t particularly surprised; after making a brief salute to Jeong Yeon-shin, he silently looked down at the Heaven Sword. Jeong Yeon-shin glanced at Ma Se-in and spoke.

“A memorial is a good thing. Why not just focus on training?”

“How could we stand by? The Little Sword Queen of the Diancang Sect is not someone whose heart’s intentions are easily known, and it wouldn’t be right to let only other sects’ people come to the grave of your mother.”

Ma Se-in, always polite, spoke his mind.

If pressed, he’d even plant his feet and argue. Jeong Yeon-shin was confident he had a slight edge in the Ma family’s “gentleman” competition.

“You’re here on a mission to Henan?”

“We requested that Shaolin share its secret earth-nourishing techniques with Hoguang as well. It hasn’t been easy, so we’re engaged in a martial competition, but we keep losing. The martial artists of Dengfeng County see it as a prelude to the Mount Hua Agreement… I’m ashamed.”

“Losing again and again?”

Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyes narrowed.

He turned immediately and made another martial salute to the Sword Empress.

“I will honor my mother alone. I am grateful for your intention in coming this far.”

“…I must listen to the direct bloodline. Very well.”

Even as the old woman slowly turned away, Jeong Yeon-shin did not relax his muscles. The pressure radiating from her gaunt body was like a bundle of countless needles.

Though her energy was contained, it felt as though countless sword strikes were extending from her. Jeong Yeon-shin’s innate senses saw through the years carved into her body.

‘The realm where body and martial art are unified…’

As Jeong Yeon-shin’s gaze grew heavy, the Sword Empress, leading her disciples away, suddenly stopped.

“It’s uncomfortable to have my back turned like this. It feels as if your drawn sword might pierce this old woman’s rusty back at any moment.”

Crack—

In an instant, the Sword Empress’s back straightened.

It was an unbelievable sight. Her dull hair suddenly regained its luster and flowed black, and the wrinkled skin of her hands smoothed out.

Only the calluses on her palms, as hard as iron, remained unchanged.

“I look forward to the Mount Hua Agreement.”

Even her voice sounded like that of a young woman. If she turned back now, she would show a face not of an old woman.

This was not mere reversal of age. It was not something achieved by martial prowess alone.

They say that when enlightenment, fortune, and the martial art being practiced all align by destiny, the body’s time can turn back. It is truly the realm of luck.

‘But…’

The Sword Empress seemed to have reversed time by martial prowess alone. So it was only temporary.

It was frightening as well. It meant her supreme martial art had begun to overflow even the vessel of her body—a sign of the supernatural chaos of the purple martial world.

“Take care on your way.”

Jeong Yeon-shin said calmly. He could no longer compete as Black rank. As a Purple rank of Desolate Fortress, he could not afford to simply admire his opponent.

“It’s not easy. Not easy at all…”

The Sword Empress shook her head as she descended the hill. The Little Sword Queen and the other disciples of the Diancang Sect silently followed.

Meanwhile, the South Zhili nobles who had been kneeling before Jeong Yeon-shin continued to squirm, as if begging for mercy.

None dared to speak. They had caused a scene at the grave of Desolate Fortress’ Purple rank’s mother.

To utter nonsense before the person himself would be to risk one’s neck. All they could do was plead with their eyes.

Jeong Yeon-shin ignored them.

He simply bowed with Ma Se-in before his mother’s grave, then met the gaze of Namgung Hwa-shin, who stood watch like a bear.

“Would you like to learn?”

He asked, like the boy who once looked up at the Azure Qilin from below. Namgung Hwa-shin would have seen a fragment of his brother’s sword in the Judgement Qilin Sword Technique.

Namgung Hwa-shin, staring at Jeong Yeon-shin, shook his head.

“I don’t know if I’m qualified…”

“That’s not for us to decide here.”

With that, Jeong Yeon-shin naturally led the Desolate Fortress group down the mountain.

And at the old Jeong family estate, he saw strangers.

Bundles of goods piled up like mountains, more than a hundred people bustling about, shouting and moving supplies. The old Jeong family annex was being used as a warehouse.

There, Jeong Yeon-shin heard a rather shocking statement.

“Who are we? As you can see, this is the main base of the Onha Merchant Guild…”

“Merchant guild?”

“Yes, sometimes people with debts to the old Jeong family come looking for us. Our guild master bought this land. I heard the second son sold it…”

***

Read only at nineheavens.org

Translated by Nine Heavens!

https://discord.gg/XC9DTsTQ9Z

***

Recently, a frightening rumor had been circulating in the markets of Dengfeng County, Henan.

It started among the local gentry and soon became an open secret.

The story was that the heads of the Nine Great Sects were gathering in secret at a certain temple on Mount Song, hidden by clouds.

It wasn’t just a rumor to excite martial artists.

In fact, those in the merchant world were especially attentive. At least, Onha Merchant Guild Master Ha Geum-seong thought so.

‘The greatest powers of the martial world…!’

A secret meeting of the Nine Great Sects’ leaders? It would have as much or even more impact than the gathering of the seventeen squad leaders of Desolate Fortress.

It wouldn’t be strange if the Imperial Guards, Eastern Depot eunuchs, or Zhu family masters were mingling among the crowds of Dengfeng County.

Where there is power and danger, there is profit. No one would deny this.

Just to be allowed to do business in Dengfeng County, where martial artists from all over the world were gathering, or to have the safety of their established land guaranteed by the orthodox sects, would double their profits.

Fortunately, Ha Geum-seong was a decent merchant.

Even after amassing enormous stores of grain, he was not stingy about unlocking his warehouses. Villages across Henan, including Xinye County, benefited.

As the number of hungry people dwindled, rumors spread: the Onha Merchant Guild was distributing food.

Naturally, not only dark path ruffians but even fearsome Sima Evil Path martial artists flocked to him, and Shaolin naturally protected his guild.

The process by which the Onha Merchant Guild came to rely on Shaolin was as smooth as water.

His invisible status rose, and he gained powerful martial connections. Now, he could even loiter near the meeting place of the Nine Great Sects’ heads.

That was his limit, however.

“Huh…”

The middle-aged merchant, Ha Geum-seong, stopped himself from kicking a stone in frustration.

He was careful not to draw the attention of the absolute masters whose senses were keen beyond measure.

He had to secure at least the main base of the merchant guild, built on the old Jeong family estate.

He had worked hard to buy the land, which had become dirt cheap after the Tyrant Sword Sect swept through. He had persuaded the second son of the Jeong family, who had been with the ruined Zhongnan Sect.

—You’ll need to hire mercenaries to rescue your kidnapped nephew, won’t you? What can a penniless ex-Zhongnan disciple do?

—…Give me a little more.

‘But now the youngest of that family is making a name for himself in Desolate Fortress.’

Ha Geum-seong was from Xinye County. The tenant farmers he employed had worked Jeong family land. Naturally, he had seen young Jeong Yeon-shin many times.

He had thought nothing of the boy who gazed blankly at swings during the Dragon Boat Festival or flew kites at the Qixi Festival.

“He was such a timid child.”

He muttered absentmindedly.

“He’s coming.”

A somewhat familiar voice.

It came from the annex he had been watching from afar. It was the High Sword of Wudang.

The one who had once looked at Ha Geum-seong as if he were a stone when they met at Shaolin. A true immortal, not one to associate with profit-seeking merchants.

“Your aura is even more profound.”

“Because Radiant Demon Wing Leader is still young.”

From the annex emerged a gaunt old nun in orange monastic robes and a handsome noble Taoist in blue. The abbot of Emei and the Two Walls Sword Lord of Qingcheng.

Ha Geum-seong had never even dared speak to such absolute masters.

“I heard he’s changed completely. Like a rebirth.”

On the roof of the annex.

A woman stood, her white sleeves fluttering.

Though he could only see her back and her long, flowing hair, Ha Geum-seong guessed she was the Mount Hua Sect Leader.

The plum blossom pattern embroidered in purple on her white sleeve gave it away. She wasn’t much different from the boy Taoist who had once spoken curtly to him.

‘Who could be coming…!’

Ha Geum-seong couldn’t bring himself to take another step, only craning his neck.

Fortunately, the mystery was quickly resolved when a Mount Hua Plum Blossom Swordsman dashed toward the path below the annex, followed by the boy Taoist he’d thought of earlier.

“Jeong Yeon-shin! I’ve been waiting forever, seriously!”

A clear voice befitting a disciple of a major sect. Soon, beyond the edge of the path, a long black-haired figure in a robe tinged with sunset appeared.

Ha Geum-seong’s eyes widened, and the boy Taoist’s voice was filled with shock.

“Hey, that robe…!”

Ha Geum-seong stopped listening and returned to the guest hall where he’d been staying.

He sat down, spread out his writing tools, and, in a single stroke, wrote a deed transferring the land to Jeong Yeon-shin of Xinye County, Henan.

It did not take long.