Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 409: Beijing (1)

Yeon-shin straightened his posture.

His thoughts were somewhat hazy, but for a seasoned warrior like Ma Gwang-ik, who had fought countless battles, this level of drunkenness was nothing.

It was nothing compared to when he had once stolen and consumed the Scarlet Blossom from Tae Yeom-ryong.

Nothing could disturb his mind at this moment, no matter who spoke beside him.

“The name Hwanmyeong Ojeol is shaking the martial world, and among them, the youngest warrior stands at the forefront. Yeonhwa Nata, Seomye. They must be referring to you.”

The voice came from his left. To his right sat Ak Su-rim, who glanced at him briefly before closing her mouth.

“I’ve heard that your talent is truly extraordinary. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen Master of Yulha praise someone’s swordsmanship so highly.”

A young Daoist absentmindedly tapped his cup with his pale index finger, as if ignoring Jeong Yeon-shin’s presence.

A sword with a pine-tree engraving was loosely strapped to his waist—without a doubt, a disciple of the Wudang Sect.

No other sect in the martial world could wear a Songmun Gogeom and parade as a Daoist.

Across from him, Singeom Squad Leader Yong Hui-myeong smirked.

“Even the renowned Tai Chi cannot outlast time, it seems.”

“What did you say?”

“You’ve mellowed out quite a bit, keeping up appearances and all.”

“Hah. No matter how skilled you are, you have no right to speak of our sect’s teachings.”

The young Daoist scoffed.

“Don’t judge Wudang by looking at me. I am merely a martial artist who incorporates Daoist profundity into my swordplay. The ones who disguise their murderous sword sects with the guise of Daoism—those people are elsewhere.”

“You never let a single word go unanswered. Are you referring to the so-called Daoist disciples who claim enlightenment without practicing martial arts?”

“Precisely. The true Wudang are the hermits cultivating atop Tianzhu Peak, detached from the world, flowing in harmony like the Tai Chi. Their exalted spirit is beyond the erosion of time.”

His youthful voice carried an old, weary tone.

A man capable of slipping unnoticed into Pavilion of the Divine Sword, a place with extreme security, yet here he was, boasting about disciples who had never trained in martial arts.

Jeong Yeon-shin tilted his head slightly.

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Across from them, Yong Hui-myeong chuckled.

“Well... I stand corrected. You remain as sharp as ever.”

“I merely state the truth. That includes what I said to this young one here. If it is true that he single-handedly took down Lord of the Dark Night and Namgung Mu-jin, then I made the right choice in coming here personally.”

The young Daoist idly traced his fingertip along the rim of his cup. In an instant, the water droplets clinging to the surface of the cup slid into the wine on their own.

There was no discernible Qi movement.

Yeon-shin’s unfocused gaze lingered with curiosity.

“Personally...?”

“I came to discuss the Huashan Agreement’s duel negotiations. Was it not you who summoned me?”

At that moment, their gazes locked.

“With just a few words, you moved an entire orthodox sect and disrupted the Heavenly Web’s military deployment. With a few shifts of your throat, you sent ripples across the world of warriors. In these turbulent times, you have demonstrated the wisdom of Four Ounces Moving a Thousand Pounds. Are you prepared to take responsibility?”

“Responsibility...?”

“You triggered the Huashan Agreement, so you must bear the consequences. Your feat of consecutively eliminating Namgung’s First Sword and Lord of the Dark Night is truly astonishing. But such a great achievement will not come without a price. You used the orthodox sects for your own ends, and the cost will not be light.”

“A great achievement?”

Yeon-shin slowly repeated the words.

Perhaps because he had tasted the purple-tinted martial world for a while, he no longer saw his own actions as anything remarkable.

Aside from the decrepit, predictable elders of the Murim Alliance, there were hardly any peerless masters in the world who were easy to deal with.

Even when fighting Ten Battle Gate’s Lord, Yeon-shin had been pushed into a corner several times.

As for the Lord of the Dark Night and Namgung Mu-jin, whom he had taken down—

It had taken dozens of days to hold Singeom Squad Leader hostage, exhausting all possible techniques before finally finishing them off.

No one could have been in perfect condition.

In fact, Lord of the Dark Night had even managed to continuously fire Ten Ri One Kill arrows from twenty li away.

Yeon-shin thought to himself.

That all he had done was put his spoon in a meal his superior had spent years preparing.

“Was that... a question?”

For the first time, the young Daoist’s previously tranquil expression wavered slightly.

“A descendant of the Ma family... showing humility?”

“It was indeed a remarkable achievement. Even ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) if fortune played a role, there is only one Black Sword in my ranks capable of single-handedly defeating two supreme masters in succession.”

Although—soon, he wouldn’t be a subordinate anymore—Yong Hui-myeong left that part unspoken as he turned to the Daoist.

“Still, what exactly do you mean when you say the price won’t be light?”

“...That Ipwang Fortress won’t take this lightly. They will carefully select their disciples to send forth, and among the sect leaders, there will be deep discussions about who is worthy to face Seomye. I had already heard whispers of his name even in Wudang, but now, even seasoned grandmasters may have to start avoiding Ma Gwang-ik.”

“That much is true.”

“In selecting disciples for the duel, we have decided to follow the conventions of the martial world. White-ranked warriors will be represented by second-generation disciples. Blue-ranked warriors by first-generation disciples. High-ranking positions will be matched against elder disciples of sect leaders and clan lords. As for purple-rank...”

The young Daoist paused mid-sentence.

Because at that moment, Jeong Yeon-shin ran his fingers over his jet-black sleeve and spoke.

“For Black Rank, Ma Gwang-ik himself will step forward.”

“...?”

"A Man from Xinya, Hanam Province, Jeong Yeon-shin of the Black Robes..."

His words trailed off, thoughts drifting between consciousness and unconsciousness.

While his mind was noisy with contemplation, the surrounding air remained eerily still.

The young Daoist, at some point, had fallen into silence, his face now somewhat blank. The expression suited his youthful features.

Jeong Yeon-shin cast a sidelong glance at his direct superior, seated across from him.

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“I will take responsibility. Ipwang Fortress will not fall.”

“That’s a bit...”

A troubled look flickered across Yong Hui-myeong’s face. But in the next instant, Yeon-shin’s gaze sharpened.

“Squad Leader.”

“Speak.”

“In the duel against the Baekcheong Black and White Masters, we only need to win two out of four matches, correct?”

“That’s right. I’m quite grateful to you for saving my life, but...”

“If Ipwang Fortress were to lose, a Purple-Ranked warrior’s fate would be determined at least once by the will of the orthodox sects. This is not some casual martial contest. This is state business.

I don’t know who made such a ludicrous agreement, but they should be ashamed of themselves.

And for having used that agreement myself, I, too, should reflect deeply.”

Yeon-shin spoke freely, momentarily forgetting the initiator of the Huashan Agreement due to the haze of alcohol.

But his tone remained steady, and his posture upright—an instinct ingrained into adulthood, where one’s eyes must always remain fixed on the next step of advancement.

“......”

The late afternoon sun filtered through the pavilion, casting transparent light across the young Daoist’s nape.

Somewhere along the way, the sun had begun to sink, scattering its rays across the river, the wine cups, and the thin film of condensation on the table.

As Yeon-shin glanced around, he caught sight of the expressions on the veteran captains’ faces—each bearing a strange look.

Hahoe Wi-jin, beneath his unwrinkled forehead, wore an unmistakable sense of amusement.

Ak Su-rim looked as though she was holding back a laugh.

Yong Hui-myeong let out a dry chuckle.

“I have no words for that. You even brought up the former grandmaster...”

“Commander Yong.”

The young Daoist called out to him in a quieter tone. There was a subtle shift in his manner of speech.

And then—

“Uh... um...”

A hesitant voice came from the steps leading up to the pavilion.

A man dressed in a yellow robe was holding a tray, scanning the scene nervously.

He was a server from the guesthouse behind the pavilion.

“This is Five Harmony Mountain Herb Dish.”

After placing the dish on the table, the server quickly retreated, as if fleeing.

“Oh! It’s here! Our Seomye’s favorite!”

Ak Su-rim slid the mountain greens toward Yeon-shin’s seat.

And as if waiting for that moment, the senior Black-Ranked captains, who had remained silent until now, began to gather around the table.

The captains of the Singeom Squad were not the kind to mind the presence of other warriors, and in any case, the young Daoist was an uninvited guest.

“Five Harmony Mountain Herb Dish... A rare delicacy among noble families. I didn’t expect to see it in a village like this, but I suppose it makes sense, being near Wuchang.”

The Lord of Infinite Extremes sat down, the sound of his prosthetic leg clinking against the floor.

Beside him, Lord of Annihilation, Shin Hwang, poured himself a drink with his thin, gnarled hand, his presence like an ancient tree.

“A true dish of the martial world.”

Shin Hwang spoke in a low voice.

“The closer the leaves are trimmed, the more intense the fragrance that seeps into the herbs. A fine test of a chef’s skill.”

The Five Harmony Herb, rare and difficult to find, resembled tightly clustered flower buds.

Yeon-shin stared at it quietly. Beneath the Five Harmony Herb was a stir-fried vegetable dish known as Airy Sprout Greens. Together, they formed the Five Harmony Mountain Herb Dish.

It was a dish often served at the Jeong Household’s formal gatherings, meant to symbolize familial unity. His father, Jeong Ban-ak, along with his eldest and second eldest brothers and their wives, would each pluck a leaf and share the dish.

Yong Hui-myeong glanced at Yeon-shin before speaking.

“I’ll take one.”

“So will I.”

Ak Su-rim reached out her hand.

The Lord of Infinite Extremes, Heavenly Dragon Captain Wei Ji-geuk, Lawful Order Captain Yun So-yu, and Lady of Yeouicheon, Bukgung Ah remained still, watching with varied expressions.

Above them all, Hahoe Wi-jin cast a large shadow over the table as he plucked a single leaf from the herb.

Yong Hui-myeong, Jeong Yeon-shin, Ak Su-rim, and Hahoe Wi-jin.

And then, slipping into the space between them, was a slender figure.

A woman with jet-black hair and deep blue-green eyes—Lord of Seonmok Ridge, Cheon So-so.

“The main topic hasn’t been settled yet.”

The young Daoist slowly rose from his seat.

“The Pang Clan played a significant role in forming the Heavenly Web. Your Singeom Squad will undoubtedly seek to punish them... But spilling more blood across the martial world—is that truly wise?

Do you not recall how the extermination of the Hwangbo Clan came back to haunt you?

In Hanzhong, the Martial Alliance was established solely to oppose Ipwang Fortress, and factions that had never cooperated before began attacking you.”

It did not seem out of place for a Wudang Sect Daoist to speak of karma.

Perhaps because, in the end, he, too, was a warrior of the martial world.

Yong Hui-myeong, holding the top of the Five Harmony Herb, finally spoke.

“Speak plainly.”

“I intend to greatly expand the Huashan Agreement.

Invitations will be sent to the Eight Great Families, and the elite warriors of each sect will compete in a grand tournament to determine the strongest in the world.

That is when you should draw your swords.

If you turn the entire world against you and face extermination one by one, then the Nine Great Sects will not remain unscathed either.”

“The strongest in the world...?”

“We do not have the leisure to waste time indulging in festivities with the martial world.”

“You may enter at any time.”

The young Daoist continued in a calm voice.

“The Nine Great Sects will inevitably rise to the top.”