Chapter 423 – Martial Lineage (4)

There is a saying: “All martial arts under heaven originate from Shaolin.”

Even now, if you trace back the countless branches of martial arts, all the various martial lineages, you eventually reach the rugged slopes of Mount Song. Not even the Sima Evil Path can deny this.

Mount Song, the Central Sacred Mountain.

This is where Shaolin Temple was founded.

It was also the place the youngest of the Jeong family in Henan once dreamed of climbing.

To pray for his mother’s repose. Back then, Jeong Yeon-shin regarded the renowned Shaolin monks as living buddhas.

‘Father went alone.’

Jeong Yeon-shin climbed the path before him, each step leaving faint footprints in the dirt, each filled with memories from his childhood.

His father, Jeong Pan Yue, truly cherished his mother, Ma Yeon-sang.

He had said that the one who brought calamity should not pray for her soul. It was something Jeong Yeon-shin could not help but accept.

And so, this was his first time setting foot on Mount Song.

Saaaa—

The forest exhaled a damp breath.

The summer wind’s moisture made the grass an even deeper green, while the cypress leaves hanging in rows swayed gently in the sunlight.

All around, soft yellow clay cliffs stretched wide.

It was a breathtaking view.

But it didn’t matter.

At this moment, the people within Jeong Yeon-shin’s sight were far clearer than the scenery of Mount Song.

Their presence and aura were distinct. There was not one among them less renowned than Radiant Demon Wing Leader of Desolate Fortress.

“It seems the message reached you? Thank you for coming on time.”

A boy in a white robe, hands behind his back, descended through the air. The pine pattern on his robe fluttered gently like a cloud.

The highest sword of the Great Wudang Sect.

Jeong Yeon-shin’s expression grew distant. Suddenly, his toes tingled—a fierce impulse surged in his heart, as if he needed to kick something to feel at ease.

“Greetings, Taoist.”

Jeong Yeon-shin slowly brought his hands together in a martial salute. There was a new depth of respect in his gesture, for he would soon be standing guard at this man’s sickbed.

“…I was rude last time. I sincerely apologize.”

“You were rude often. You barged into the Divine Sword Group’s banquet without reading the room.”

The Wudang High Sword waved it off with a nonchalant face. Jeong Yeon-shin’s expression brightened a little.

The old man with the broadest heart in the world was here.

‘Almost like the Supreme Lord Laozi…’

He felt great relief inside.

“But more importantly…”

The old Taoist, in the form of a boy, looked Jeong Yeon-shin up and down from his low vantage point. Soon, a satisfied smile appeared on High Sword’s lips.

“Congratulations. It was worth submitting that petition to Beijing. The Emperor has always favored our sect.”

“I heard as much from the Crown Prince. I can only say thank you…”

“Taoist Primordial Peace. We are the ones who should be grateful.”

High Sword dismissed Jeong Yeon-shin’s words with a wave. Whatever he meant, it didn’t matter to Jeong Yeon-shin—at least not now.

“Abbot, Taoist.”

Jeong Yeon-shin offered another salute to those beyond High Sword’s shoulder. It was the proper thing to do.

The undisputed masters of Sichuan, the heads of Emei and Qingcheng, were looking at him.

An elderly nun smiled gently as she had from the first meeting, while the noble Taoist beside her wore a subtle expression.

“You have made another leap atop a hundred-foot pole.”

As always,Venerable Cypress Flame’s smile was warm, but the Qingcheng leader’s face was hard to read.

“Purple…”

The Qingcheng leader muttered, his feelings inscrutable.

Taoist Two Walls Sword Lord. He was a grandmaster credited with reviving Qingcheng after losing its previous head to the Tyrant Sword.

His skill surpassed that of a gentleman; he was called a giant.

And what of Venerable Cypress Flame, the Thunderous Avalokiteshvara?

[TL Note- Thunderous Avalokiteshvara was previously translated as Troubled Path Avalokiteshvara.]

Behind her smile lay the weight of years. She had held Sichuan’s martial world together for decades, facing the scattered offensives of the Golden Wing Sect, Ten Perfections Sect, Pure Demon Alliance, and the Blood Flame Cult.

The name “Avalokiteshvara” in her title reflected her virtue and state of mind.

“Even when we drank together last time, your expression was always so lonely and aloof, even when sober. You don’t seem to resemble the Tyrant Hero, yet you do.”

The boyish Taoist, High Sword, looked up at Jeong Yeon-shin and said.

As Jeong Yeon-shin recalled the faces gathered here, he realized that High Sword’s presence was no less weighty than Venerable Cypress Flame’s.

‘Wudang’s Supreme Master…’

For some reason, this was the man who had served as acting head of Wudang for over a decade while the true leader was in seclusion. He was the incarnation of Wudang’s Taiji martial lineage, famed for his wisdom sword, Ten-Section Brocade, and Cloud-Traveling Palm.

Even standing close, Jeong Yeon-shin could not easily guess the outcome of a match.

“Hey, don’t ignore me!”

A far cry from a gentleman, Mount Hua’s boy Taoist, Yu Hyeon, had sidled up and spoke to Jeong Yeon-shin.

Jeong Yeon-shin did not answer. It is said that a true friend is always dear and precious, yet always a little trivial.

At this moment, reuniting with the Mount Hua Sect Leader, who stood with her hand on Yu Hyeon’s head, was more important.

“Sect Leader.”

Jeong Yeon-shin bowed with a martial salute.

A woman with a worn sword at her waist opened her eyes wide. Was it her unconscious moving her energy? In that instant, a transcendent sword intent flowed from her white socked foot.

The withered grass beneath her foot instantly regained its green.

Brilliant Jade Sword God Lu Xian.

Once, after losing to the Tyrant Sword, she had been carried down the snowy mountains on Jeong Yeon-shin’s back. Now, she looked up at him from a lower height.

Her martial arts may not have changed, but her height certainly had.

“You… are Lightning Genius?”

Lu Xian’s voice rose. Perhaps because she was not of noble blood, her eyes, tinged with a faint purple, searched Jeong Yeon-shin’s face for familiar features.

She could not find the same face as before.

‘No…’

Jeong Yeon-shin thought. It must be because of his limbs. Peerless masters judge not by features but by the harmony of energy.

“You’ve grown well. In such a short time.”

Lu Xian offered unreserved praise. It was as brilliant and free-spirited as the fluttering plum blossoms.

She was the one who had boldly provoked the Tyrant Sword. She would not offer empty words.

Jeong Yeon-shin, quietly savoring a small satisfaction, released his salute and slowly spoke.

“The medicine you sent through Plum Blossom Swordsman Yu Hyeon was invaluable. I should have thanked you in person, but I’m glad we meet again like this.”

“Your own training played the biggest part, but it seems my gift was put to good use. I didn’t expect to see such a spectacle here.”

“…?”

“I had something to take care of before the Mount Hua Agreement. Now that you’re here, Desolate Fortress is complete.”

Lu Xian had once experienced battle on Jeong Yeon-shin’s back, through the web of the snowy mountains.

Even as her lashes rose at his transformation, she showed no surprise at his purple robe.

As Mount Hua’s Sect Leader, she was a strong contender for the Mount Hua Agreement.

Jeong Yeon-shin wondered about the “matter to take care of,” but for a while, he simply studied Lu Xian in silence.

‘She’s unreadable.’

It was the same as when he first met her as a Black rank.

Perfectly sealed. He could sense nothing. Only the image of a pale pink plum blossom briefly came to mind.

As he sharpened his senses further, he glimpsed the sky and earth meeting at sunset in a straight line.

Then, suddenly, their eyes met.

Lu Xian’s gaze softened.

“Your heart’s sword is too deep. How far do you intend to go?”

Jeong Yeon-shin did not answer. He simply lowered his eyelids, enigmatic as a swordsman lost in his own imagery.

“…Am I being too sensitive? Well, follow me.”

Lu Xian tilted her head and turned away, the sound of her trouser hem brushing the ground blurring reality.

Beside her, High Sword’s face flashed a sly smile at Jeong Yeon-shin.

It was clear.

Of all those gathered on this peak, only the youngest Plum Blossom Swordsman, Yu Hyeon, was approachable.

‘Here…’

Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly realized he was standing among those he had admired as a child.

He was among the very highest echelon of the martial world. He would have to contend with those who stood at the summit of the vast, boundless world of martial arts.

Venerable Cypress Flame of Emei and Taoist Two Walls of Qingcheng.

High Sword of Wudang and Lu Xian of Mount Hua.

And the Sword Duchess had met earlier, and somewhere, the Shaolin Abbot.

Except for Taoist Two Walls, they were all people who had ruled the martial world for decades or even over a century.

Their reputations and positions were beyond comparison to any others. When Jeong Yeon-shin was just a nobody in the Jeong family, they were already legendary.

The seventeen-year-old youth suddenly felt a great sense of distance. Me, here…?

‘It should be the Group Leader here, not me.’

He was not concerned about the sects crowding Mount Song for the Mount Hua Agreement.

Even the Peng family, one of the Eight Great Clans, was not on his mind.

“You are truly aloof. Even here, you savor the air of Mount Song?”

Taoist Two Walls watched him quietly. Venerable Cypress Flame’s wrinkled throat bobbed with a soft laugh.

“It’s spirit. That generation of peerless masters has a vigor we lack, blended with their virtue.”

“Venerable is right.”

“Come along slowly. This is a place to discuss the world, so keep your mind in order.”

High Sword added to Jeong Yeon-shin.

Step.

The four peerless masters turned and walked up the path.

Jeong Yeon-shin, staring after their backs in a daze, turned as Yu Hyeon tapped him on the back.

“You okay?”

“What?”

Jeong Yeon-shin replied in a deliberately flat tone. But Yu-hyeon’s eyes were sharper than most noble eye techniques.

“You’re tense. Like a blade forged in the hells.”

“What?”

“That robe… It doesn’t look like a grand general’s uniform. Maybe you feel a sense of responsibility. Or maybe you just haven’t stopped fighting. Every rumor with your name reeks of blood. It’s a miracle you’re in one piece.”

“I suppose it’s been tiring.”

“I’ve never seen our Sect Leader so tense.”

Yu Hyeon whispered. Jeong Yeon-shin shook his head inwardly.

He didn’t know what the leaders were thinking, but he was surely the most nervous person here.

—Your heart’s sword is too deep. How far do you intend to go?

Lu Xian’s words echoed in his body. Only someone who had truly felt Jeong Yeon-shin’s presence could say that.

“You probed her imagery earlier, didn’t you? Why not go all the way? My master is gentle outside, but a tyrant in the sect…”

Yu Hyeon’s head suddenly dropped with a thud. Glancing up, Jeong Yeon-shin saw Lu Xian’s back, shaking her hand. It was a scolding.

He had just casually asked Jeong Yeon-shin to discipline his master. He deserved a smack.

‘Still…’

Even as tension from the looming Mount Hua Agreement gnawed at him, Yu Hyeon’s antics brought a smile to Jeong Yeon-shin’s face.

Yu Hyeon was a good friend. Perhaps the only one he’d ever have…

“Be good to your master.”

Jeong Yeon-shin said, thinking of the Group Leader. A faint arc appeared on his lips.

Apparently, Yu Hyeon’s head hurt from the scolding; he was busy rubbing the back of his head. Only when Jeong Yeon-shin was about to leave did Yu Hyeon speak again.

“I can’t follow. It’s a solemn place.”

“Ma Se-in of Desolate Fortress is our age. If you get lonely, go see him.”

“Oh, Ma Gentleman? Of course I know him. He’s famous in Mount Song. He gets beaten up by the Little Divine Monk all the time.”

“Ma Gentleman…?”

For a moment, Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyes wavered. Yu-hyeon nodded nonchalantly and waved him on.

“Go on. Don’t be surprised when you see the Abbot. Good luck.”

Yu Hyeon was right to hurry him. The elders of Buddhism and Taoism were waiting.

They wouldn’t just discuss martial competition. There were matters to be settled as the heads of great sects.

Jeong Yeon-shin left his friend waving behind and walked toward the temple on a remote peak of Mount Song.

Step.

Sunlight broke at the hem of his trousers.

Purple, orange, and flashes of gold mingled in the light, calming Jeong Yeon-shin’s heart.

‘I will conquer the Mount Hua Agreement.’

The newly promoted Purple rank of Desolate Fortress.

It was the day he entered the gathering of the supreme masters of the Nine Great Sects.