WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
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◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈
Episode 397: Carpet (6)
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Silence settled around the low tea table. Briefly, gently.
“...”
The two sect leaders possessed profound self-cultivation.
They possessed the clear, refined air distinctive to those who had trained in Buddhist temples and Daoist sanctuaries. It made the lavish inner chamber where the Dark Night Hall’s Grandmaster had stayed feel no more remarkable than a modest guest hall.
Their teacups gave off faint wisps of steam like tiny chimneys, as though showing consideration for the young peerless master who had learned of his grandfather from others.
Baekyak Satae’s compassionate gaze turned to Jeong Yeon-shin.
“Strictly speaking, the Beggars’ Sect Leader was the one who picked the fight first. Though, rather contradictorily, he never joined the Pact of Mount Hua in the end...”
She was speaking of young geniuses.
They had shunned secular great sects like the Eight Great Families and the Thirteen Heavens, roaming the martial world as minor immortals in the truest sense.
The seven prodigies of the Nine Sects and One Gang were lofty. Even then, each possessed enough skill to establish a school of their own.
Exceptionally bright stars could be seen at a glance even from far apart. Their meeting with Ma Yeon-jeok had been inevitable.
Huayin County.
A true Dragon-Phoenix Gathering had taken place at an inn in the village below Mount Hua.
The young beggar who had been the Beggars’ Sect’s Successor Beggar at the time stopped eating and challenged Ma Yeon-jeok to a spar.
Young martial artists touring the martial world often met and clashed, then as now, but this incident had been special.
“The Beggars’ Sect Leader of that era took great pride in Drunken Fist. He was even more so in his youth, when he was called Chwi Gong. He stimulated his upper dantian with liquor and unleashed unpredictable moves. Compared to him, even the Mount Hua Sect’s flamboyant Plum Blossom Sword Art looked neat and orderly. As a spectacle, I would say the peerless Plum Blossom Sword held the edge, but...”
Baekyak Satae spoke with a trace of humor.
Jeong Yeon-shin did not interrupt her. He knew little even of the old stories of his parents, including his mother.
He had rarely had the chance to properly hear tales of his maternal grandfather either.
“At any rate, as soon as Master Ma accepted the challenge, he emptied an entire jar of Xifeng Liquor. He was keeping his word. Not to be outdone, Chwi Gong drank the same amount and turned his jar upside down to show it was empty.”
He would win even if they fought with Drunken Fist.
It was not something the rightful successor of the Beggars’ Sect’s martial lineage could overlook.
The Beggars’ Sect’s masters were famous for refusing to study the variations of their techniques separately.
That was why the distinction between the sect’s supreme masters and its lower-ranked martial artists was so clear.
It was the skill of exquisitely drawing the alcohol’s essence into the upper dantian and wielding it.
It was said that the palm techniques of a thoroughly drunk Beggars’ Sect master could choke even a serpent dragon to death. Hence the Dragon-Subduing Eighteen Palms.
It was also why Chwi Gong could not let Ma Yeon-jeok’s words pass.
“At the time, Chwi Gong envied Desolate Fortress’s intelligence network, which encompassed government offices throughout the realm. Whenever they turned the martial world upside down, he would launch into impassioned speeches laced with resentment. He said well water should never intrude upon river water, and that Desolate Fortress deserved condemnation for selling the unwritten rule of noninterference between government and martial world to the dogs.”
“Rotten well water should be drawn out. Especially if common people live nearby.”
Jeong Yeon-shin, who had listened in silence, spoke in an even voice.
“Mm.”
“That is not wrong.”
Heavy expressions crossed Baekyak Satae’s and the Two-Walls Sword Lord’s faces. They did not dismiss his passing remark.
Jeong Yeon-shin found the reaction strange.
The sect leaders of the Nine Sects were figures of supernatural power, absolute authorities who could sit in the mountains and discuss the whole realm.
Unless it concerned a matter grave enough to profoundly affect the martial world, they should have simply laughed it off.
“Please continue. What happened after the two of them became drunk?”
He urged Baekyak Satae on.
The old nun watched Jeong Yeon-shin for a moment, then crinkled her eyes in a smile.
“They naturally came to blows. Chwi Gong of the Beggars’ Sect and Ma Yeon-jeok, the Hegemonic Path Divine Hero. It was a spar that should have become the talk of the whole martial world. Yet the only real spectators were the seven of us from the Nine Sects, including this nun, along with the innkeeper and server who watched the two argue with worried faces...”
Chwi Gong had already achieved the great feat of joining a combined attack that slew one of the Lords of the Thirteen Heavens.
He yielded the first move to Ma Yeon-jeok. It was the pride martial artists so often displayed.
“Master Ma stopped arguing. He simply stamped down once with True Step. This nun had to unleash Lotus Blooms Without a Trace, our sect’s Body Movement Scripture, at full power.”
“Why...?”
“There was an earthquake.”
Baekyak Satae continued.
After the thunderous roar raced beneath the ground and faded, everyone fell silent.
When Chwi Gong, who had endured the terrible tremor at close range, stared blankly at his opponent, Ma Yeon-jeok, the Hegemonic Path Divine Hero, praised him with a deeply impressed expression.
“Your Body Movement Scripture must surely have been modeled after a bear balancing on a log... This nun remembers it well. It was a truly outrageous provocation.”
Faint amusement touched Baekyak Satae’s lips. The memory of that youthful excitement seemed to have stirred her heart.
Jeong Yeon-shin inwardly shook his head at his young grandfather.
So his maternal grandfather had not been much of a gentleman.
“Of course, Chwi Gong did not back down there. He could not, not before the Nine Sects’ disciples who were like comrades to him. We each shared close ties in our own way, but we were also rivals who competed in martial arts out of pride. We were the only opponents in the world worthy of one another.”
When Chwi Gong raised both arms and charged in, Ma Yeon-jeok did not even draw his sword. From where he stood, he released an invisible force wave. It was the opening stance of the Desolate Ma family’s Haphwa Fist Art.
“Eighteen moves struck the Hegemonic Path Divine Hero. Master Ma did not take a single step back, receiving all eighteen palms of Chwi Gong’s Dragon-Subduing Eighteen Palms where he stood. Only then did Wudang’s Old Sword, the youngest person there, Jeomchang’s Sword Empress, and the senior Shaolin abbot of that era rise from their seats.”
“Why...?”
“Because Master Ma did not use one hand. Even when he caught and pressed down Chwi Gong’s blue palm, the eighteenth ultimate technique, Jaecheon Gwanin, Master Ma still had his left hand clasped behind his back. That was the end of it.”
Stunned beyond words, Chwi Gong was struck in the solar plexus by a single punch and sent skipping away like a stone across water.
Young Ma Yeon-jeok said,
“Not even enough for a flood dragon’s single bite.”
No one there had ever heard phrasing like that. He was mocking the legend behind the Dragon-Subduing Eighteen Palms, which was said to subdue even dragons.
To the Nine Sects’ prodigies, it was plainly over the line. Every one of the witnesses seated as arbiters rose.
“Whether it was fortunate or unfortunate, the Blood Flame Sect Master attacked us then. He had traced our tracks from Sichuan. That supernatural being had always feared that the Nine Sects would restore Buddhist dharma power and Daoist Three Pure Ones Power.”
It had been a time when the conflict between the Thirteen Heavens and the Nine Sects had reached its peak. The Heart Martial Union’s martial forces had appeared as well.
Yet the moment they saw Ma Yeon-jeok, they withdrew their troops and disappeared into the distance. The group only had to deal with the Blood Flame Sect Master.
Even that was not easy. It was close to impossible.
“Only four properly withstood the white-haired blood demon’s attacks. Master Ma, Wudang’s young Old Sword, the teacher of Mount Hua’s now-deceased sect leader, and Shaolin’s abbot of that era... Yet we could not fight long against someone who laughed as regeneration restored every injury we inflicted. It was Master Ma who opened our escape route.”
He did so while saying he could not manage a pack of bears.
By then, Ma Yeon-jeok had already reached a realm beyond humanity.
The Bowol Sword of the future Divine Sword Squad Leader left its sheath in his hand, and a sword wind that shook heaven and earth sent the Blood Flame Sect Master flying far into the sky.
“It is only a temporary measure.”
It had done no more than buy them a moment.
Yet the Nine Sects’ prodigies had surpassed the swift attainments of the Eight Families’ practical martial arts through orthodox arts that came into their own late.
Their talents had been extraordinary.
Through qi control that surpassed even the Tortoise Breath Method, they concealed their auras and employed lightness skills that did not touch even the grass.
Chwi Gong, who had been lying on the ground, was dragged along like baggage by young Ma Yeon-jeok.
Fortune piled atop fortune. After running day and night for days on end, they finally shook off the Blood Flame Sect Master’s pursuit.
It was fate.
“No one showed their competitive spirit again after that. We had also roughly compared our martial arts while fending off the Blood Flame Sect Master, so we made an agreement. The next time, we would compete through our martial lineages.”
They had vaguely sensed the need for it.
Even the world’s greatest masters could suddenly die far from home in the martial world.
If so, why not create room for sects that valued the people’s welfare to engage in joint training and combined attacks?
“Our territories lay endlessly far apart, and the values and feuds we held were all different... Yet the Nine Sects’ sect-leader candidates, who had kept Desolate Fortress at arm’s length because of the countless feuds among lay sects, benefited from the Tyrant Hero’s virtue. We had to channel our competitive spirit in a good direction.”
“When you say compete through martial lineages...?”
“Whenever the Tyrant Hero or his direct descendants requested it, the Nine Sects agreed to select their finest disciples from all seniority levels.”
The secret history of the martial world’s highest ranks reached its end. Baekyak Satae’s eyes, calm as a still lake, reflected Jeong Yeon-shin.
“To be precise, six sects excluding Hengshan, Kongtong, and Zhongnan. The four disciples from the Nine Sects bound by the Pact of Mount Hua must face four experts representing the White, Blue, Black, and Purple Uniform ranks, selected by Desolate Fortress. The side with more victories may demand anything from the defeated side except the closure of its sect. If they demand help with a personal matter, the Nine Sects must provide at least one sect leader... while the Tyrant Hero’s side must provide a Purple Uniform peerless master.”
“Such an agreement would never be allowed at the main fortress.”
When Jeong Yeon-shin slightly shook his head, Baekyak Satae’s lips curved into a smile.
“The Lord of Desolate Fortress permitted it. Perhaps because the Divine Sword Corps is always short-handed. More than that, this nun believes the Tyrant Hero’s persuasion played a great role. He seemed deeply impressed by the Beggars’ Sect Leader’s Body Movement Scripture. He treated young Chwi Gong very favorably, though Chwi Gong was disgusted by it.”
Jeong Yeon-shin recalled his grandfather’s remarks about bears. They said the martial world was full of eccentrics, but as a grandson, he found the eccentricity embarrassing.
“...You said seven people made the Pact of Mount Hua. Why did the Beggars’ Sect Leader not join the agreement?”
“He had no intention of leaving the outcome to later generations. The Desolate Ma family’s hegemonic martial arts are a discipline that borrows time in advance, so he was certain that after many years passed, he would have grown stronger. Despite all his noble spirit, the Tyrant Hero never met us again.”
Jeong Yeon-shin could guess the reason. His grandfather had simply been born with an extremely arrogant nature.
After making the agreement, he must have erased the thought of seeking help from another sect from his mind.
He slowly parted his lips.
“It seems I will need quite some time. I am grateful that you told me of my forebears’ connection, but...”
He could not be of help immediately. News of Sichuan had reached Desolate Fortress through the carrier swallows of several seniors, and what he intended to do now was perfectly clear.
He had subdued the Dark Night Hall’s Young Hall Master and obtained the Gwaehyung Bird. It was time to pursue the Dark Night Hall Master, who had deep enmity with the current Divine Sword Squad Leader.
‘I have taken up the sect leaders’ valuable time.’
Perhaps the Two-Walls Sword Lord sensed that Jeong Yeon-shin intended to leave. The man who had remained silent looked at him.
“Leader of Demon Wings.”
“Please speak.”
“Though I may not look it, I am of the elven race, so I possess rather sharp insight. You looked as though you were searching for someone... a precious person in a dangerous place.”
“...”
“You are too modest. Know this. You are someone who can overturn the entire martial world.”
Jeong Yeon-shin was rarely surprised. The Qingcheng sect leader’s eyes, bluish with the power of his inborn bloodline and eye technique, had seen through two truths he had deeply concealed.
“This land is vast. No matter how fast your lightness skill is, what if something happens to that precious person while you travel?”
“What are you saying...?”
“Invoke the Pact of Mount Hua. The martial world will answer.”
Footnotes:
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