WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈
Chapter 27: Zhongnan Sect (2)
──────
The Zhongnan Sect disciples were only briefly startled by the incredibly swift sword. Then, gritting their teeth, they moved to draw their swords.
“Stop!”
The thickets trembled all at once at the jade-like voice. Immense qi could be felt.
Step.
With an overwhelming presence, she descended like a heavenly fairy.
A lightness technique of such a realm existed here as well.
Yeon-shin stared at the woman standing between them as though mediating.
‘Strong.’
Her exceptionally beautiful appearance did not catch his eye.
Her slender body was wrapped in an imposing air that made it seem anything but frail.
Simply watching her stand there revealed extraordinary skill.
“What a sight. Your conduct can hardly be called that of Zhongnan disciples. Let us return and speak there.”
Those assigned to keep watch lowered their heads at her quiet words.
It was the manner of a superior pointing out their conduct.
Only then, as though realizing their disgrace, their faces reddened.
“We apologize, Eldest Senior Sister.”
“We are ashamed to face you.”
The woman nodded at their apologies before turning to Yeon-shin and Won-chang.
“Truly.”
Her lips moved slightly.
The blades of grass brushing against the hem of her flowing robe split apart.
The aura radiating from her entire body had taken on a sharp edge. She seemed no less formidable than a Blue Uniform of Desolate Fortress.
“What a disgrace before the honored guests of Desolate Fortress.”
“……”
Won-chang appeared completely overwhelmed.
Seeing Won-chang standing there blankly was hard to believe, so Yeon-shin spoke.
“I am Jeong Yeon-shin. I belong to Demon Wings. Young Hero Hyeon Won-chang here belongs to Demon Wings as well.”
“I am Weiji Myo-hwa of the Zhongnan Sect.”
Her gentle words carried pressure. Yeon-shin clearly felt it.
It was not that she had deliberately infused them with force. It came naturally from the dignity that surrounded her.
Only then could he truly feel the strength of the Nine Sects.
“Weiji Myo-hwa…? Ha, the Cloud Sword Dragon of the Zhongnan Sect!”
Won-chang’s exclamation made Yeon-shin realize who she was.
It was said that she had slain the leader of a group from the unorthodox sects that had run rampant in Guanzhong.
She was already a master whose name was resounding throughout the world.
Cloud Sword Dragon Weiji Myo-hwa.
Rumors claimed that she was a genius who had descended by heaven’s mistake.
Yu Hyeon of the Mount Hua Sect was sixteen this year, the same age as Yeon-shin. Yeon-shin thought that if Yu Hyeon underwent about five years of brutal closed-door training, he might become like her.
‘She was born and raised in Zhongnan, then became the Eldest Senior Sister at such a young age.’
It was not the sort of thought Yeon-shin, who was surely at least four years younger than her, would normally have.
He had a constitution fated to make him die young. He had made a habit of excluding his own age from consideration.
“It is an honor to meet Lady Weiji, whose name has become illustrious as the Sword Dragon.”
Won-chang gave a clasped-fist salute.
Weiji Myo-hwa reprimanded her junior fellow disciples right in front of them.
It was only natural to feel favorably toward her. Yeon-shin felt the same.
It was as though he had met a true martial artist of the Nine Sects, of the kind he had only heard about. Following Won-chang, he clasped his hands.
“I was rude to make a move on Zhongnan’s main mountain. I am ashamed before Great Hero Weiji.”
He called her Great Hero rather than female hero or lady.
Though not a man, she had earned the epithet of Dragon.
She was a senior who traveled the martial world as a chivalrous warrior with a single sword in hand.
Her experience and accomplishments far exceeded Yeon-shin’s, so the words came naturally.
Myo-hwa’s eyes softened.
Yeon-shin could understand, at least somewhat, why Won-chang had made that foolish sound upon seeing her beauty.
“Young Hero Jeong gripped his sword hilt first, but my junior fellow disciple made the first move. Everyone saw it. Rather, I should apologize on Zhongnan’s behalf.”
Warmth filled her expression as she looked at Yeon-shin, and it felt remarkably natural for her to say she represented the prestigious Zhongnan Sect.
Among the masters Yeon-shin had met in the martial world, she left the strongest impression after Cheon Ju, Mount Hua’s Sword Absolute, who was said to rival Ma Jin.
In bearing alone, she seemed the finest of them all.
“We have kept our honored guests standing for too long. I will guide you to our sect. We can hear your purpose once we arrive.”
“Thank you.”
After offering another greeting and raising his head, Yeon-shin caught sight of a familiar face.
It was his second brother, Jeong Joong-san, wearing a stunned expression.
* * *
“Hye-ah is receiving instruction from the Sword Immortal of Zhongnan?”
“She has not formally become a disciple, but I hear she is receiving instruction almost equivalent to it.”
He could not help but be surprised by Joong-san’s words as they climbed the mountain together.
The Sword Immortal of Zhongnan was said to be a swordsman who surpassed even Ye Yil-sin, a Great Elder and a member of the elven race.
The Sword Immortal rarely descended into the secular world, but their fame reached throughout the land.
It meant that his niece, Hye-ah, had had her talent recognized.
As relief came over him, Joong-san glanced at Yeon-shin with a complicated expression.
“More importantly… you have become strong enough to defy all prediction. To think you are now a formal martial artist of Desolate Fortress.”
“Stronger? I still have a long way to go.”
Yeon-shin held back even around his brother.
The Lord of Desolate Fortress alone knowing of his lifespan was enough.
For several reasons, he did not want the number of people who knew to increase.
“Young Hero Jeong’s drive for improvement is remarkable. That must be why you have already gained the white attire of Desolate Fortress and a Blue Uniform long robe.”
Weiji Myo-hwa seemed to have taken quite a liking to Yeon-shin.
Joong-san’s expression changed each time she spoke. Even as a fellow disciple of the Zhongnan Sect, he seemed to be seeing a side of her that was rare.
‘It is not drive for improvement. It is desperation.’
As Yeon-shin thought it difficult to respond courteously to words that did not resonate with him, their temporary group reached the Zhongnan Sect’s mountain gate.
“Welcome to our sect.”
Behind the slightly smiling Myo-hwa stretched a picturesque array of ancient buildings.
They were more modest than Desolate Fortress, but the headquarters of one of the Nine Sects, where the power of tradition had been passed down intact, felt different.
The halls nestled among the overwhelming mountain terrain were extraordinary at a glance.
“The sect leader and Great Elder have gone to fight the Tyrant Sword Sect Master. Since guests have come from Desolate Fortress, you should meet the highest elder remaining in our sect.”
As Yeon-shin recalled the sword of the absolute master who had destroyed Jeong Family Manor, he and Won-chang arrived at a place called Sunsimgak after climbing several steep mountain peaks.
There, they encountered an old man and a young girl walking out of the nearby Training Hall like a grandfather and granddaughter.
The girl’s eyes widened.
“Uncle!”
Perhaps because she had lost her parents overnight, Hye-ah rushed to him with an eagerness that was almost poignant. Yeon-shin lifted her into his arms.
“Hye-ah. Have you been well?”
“Uncle…”
As he reunited with the tearful Hye-ah, Won-chang sniffled beside him.
Before long, Yeon-shin set down the child who did not want to part from him and faced the old man watching him with an unusual gaze.
“Elder Jong, they are from Desolate Fortress.”
Myo-hwa spoke in a tone as though addressing her own grandfather.
When Yeon-shin and Won-chang introduced themselves with clasped-fist salutes, the old man, standing with his hands behind his back, slowly opened his mouth.
“I am Jong Yeo-il.”
“The Sword Immortal of Zhongnan!”
Won-chang, who had worn an incredulous expression, cried out almost like a scream.
The way he immediately covered his own mouth was rather endearing, and no one present blamed him.
“Greetings, Sword Immortal.”
Yeon-shin calmly offered another clasped-fist salute.
He had seen the Lord of Desolate Fortress from one step away.
The Lord’s fame filled him with awe, but it did not strike him with the same shock that it did Won-chang.
They exchanged a few words.
Officially, they had climbed Zhongnan Mountain to look into the welfare of the common people caught up in the conflict between great sects. Privately, Yeon-shin had come to confirm the safety of his blood relatives.
After quietly studying Yeon-shin, the Sword Immortal of Zhongnan, Jong Yeo-il, suddenly asked,
“How old are you?”
“…I am sixteen this year.”
“Hmm…! Would you like to look at that?”
Despite Yeon-shin’s reluctance, the Sword Immortal raised a hand and pointed to one side.
It was somewhere that had already caught Yeon-shin’s attention.
Countless strokes had been carved into the rugged face of a cliff shrouded in pale mist.
“Elder Jong?”
Myo-hwa called with an expression of complete incomprehension.
“What are you saying to someone outside the sect? Restoring the Nine Yang Unified Art is Zhongnan’s long-cherished wish.”
“The Sword Master was not a member of our sect. The former patriarch befriended the Sword Master and invited the Sword Master to Zhongnan as a guest. In later years, the Sword Master merely inscribed their martial arts upon Zhongnan Mountain. It cannot be called our sect’s ultimate martial art.”
“Even so…”
Myo-hwa drew her fine brows together as though unable to accept it. The Sword Immortal smiled.
“I do not have much longer to live. If I can see my benefactor’s sword again, what would I not do? They say you alone have the talent to restore the Nine Yang Unified Art, Myo-hwa, but I cannot leave my final lingering regret in your hands alone.”
The tone was exceedingly firm. Anyone could sense how powerful the one obsession the Sword Immortal had not let go of at the end of life was.
“I cannot understand. Even I have no idea, so what did you see in a young hero you have only just met…?”
“Look.”
Following the Sword Immortal’s gesture, Myo-hwa turned her gaze and her eyes widened.
Yeon-shin had gone to the very end of the peak, craning his neck out as he stared at the opposite cliff.
Behind him, Won-chang fidgeted anxiously, as though ready to pull him back the instant he fell.
He was lost in a trance. Anyone could see it.
‘Sword marks.’
Yeon-shin thought as he studied the cliff. The many trails carved into it bore a keen edge.
They looked like traces left by a sword that had surged forward with overwhelming force, as though even the erosion of time had failed to overcome them.
Could they be wounds left by an immortal of the sword?
The sword marks running far across the cliff did not feel like the work of human skill.
They made no sense unless one could tread upon empty air.
“They were inscribed by the Sword Master who passed away fifty-nine years ago.”
The Sword Immortal of Zhongnan had approached at some point. Won-chang flinched in surprise.
“Sword Master Gu Yang-cheon!”
“Do you know the Sword Master?”
Yeon-shin asked without taking his eyes off the cliff.
“The Tyrant Sword Sect was founded by a disciple expelled by the Sword Master! In other words, the origin of every sword art in the Tyrant Sword Sect is that great senior, the Sword Master!”
“The Sword Master crossed blades with your Lord, yet took me by the hand as a child and climbed Zhongnan Mountain. Aside from the Lord of Desolate Fortress, a divine demon unlike any other, there was scarcely anyone in the world who could stand against the Sword Master.”
It meant that the Sword Master had been an overwhelmingly powerful absolute master.
The Sword Immortal spoke of a lingering regret.
At life’s end stood an old swordsman, letting everything from their life scatter away meaninglessly.
Only the benefactor’s sword remained.
Yeon-shin was not offended that the Sword Immortal had called the Lord of Desolate Fortress a demon.
“Did the Sword Master bring you into the Zhongnan Sect?”
Yeon-shin asked. The Sword Immortal readily nodded.
“Yes. The Sword Master carried me, a starving orphan wasting away from hunger, on their back up to the main mountain. Then the Sword Master suddenly presented me to the former patriarch and told them to raise me.”
“You called the Sword Master your benefactor. Why could you not learn their sword?”
“…My fate did not extend that far. Life is like that. My talent was lacking as well.”
The Sword Immortal gave Yeon-shin, who had asked so frankly, a strange look before pointing at the cliff.
“Countless swordsmen of our sect have clung to it. But it is not a sword path one can take merely through broad knowledge or high martial skill. The so-called masters of our sect who claim expertise in swordsmanship gathered and concluded that only a flash of inspiration could claim the Sword Master’s sword path.”
Yeon-shin followed the pointed finger with his eyes and lightly furrowed his brow.
He wanted to see more clearly.
Within the mist on the cliff was a phrase, written in bold, flowing strokes.
“One worthy of it shall obtain it.”
“It lies entirely in the realm of talent. Zhongnan’s hopes are focused on Myo-hwa. Even if she does not show it, I know it must weigh heavily on her.”
Only then did Yeon-shin take his eyes from the cliff and turn his head.
Myo-hwa wore a peculiar expression. Though called Zhongnan’s unprecedented genius, she did not deny it.
But that was all. Her eyes met Yeon-shin’s for a moment, and she still seemed unable to understand.
Regardless of her disposition, she could not understand the situation itself.
Yeon-shin thought that the Sword Immortal of Zhongnan might be a master greater even than his maternal grandfather, Ma Yeon-jeok.
Until now, the Lord of Desolate Fortress had been the only person to see through his true nature.
‘With a master like this, why can they not defeat the Tyrant Sword Sect decisively in a single stroke?’
Whether Ma Yeon-jeok’s martial skill had dulled since his prime, or the Sword Immortal’s martial arts exceeded the appraisal of the world, he did not know.
For now, he was simply grateful to have gained another opportunity to grow stronger.
Hye-ah came trotting over and looked up at him. As Yeon-shin patted her head, the Sword Immortal asked,
“What did you see?”
Without a word, Yeon-shin drew his snow-white Desolate Sword.
Footnotes:
Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried
