Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 414: Beijing (6)

"This isn't a trick of human skill. It's a version of the 'Four Pounds to Move a Thousand Pounds' technique, often confused with the capable and the strong. A mere motion of the hand can manipulate the weight of a thousand pounds—if someone can handle that kind of power, the force behind even the slightest motion will rival the current of the Yangtze River," he murmured, his voice low.

With a flick of his finger on the crest of his chest—emblazoned with a red and blue dragon—the dust on his body scattered into the air, breaking apart.

"Regardless, the challenge has been issued," the man remarked.

He was the only one among them not hiding his admiration for what had just transpired.

This man was the Great Commander of the Jinyiwei.

Unlike the others, his rounded ears suggested that his noble lineage was not as deeply rooted, and he had stepped forward while others hesitated.

"It seems Lord Commander found these two impressive," another elder official, also in official robes, asked quietly.

For a moment, the air grew thick with tension.

The same official who had introduced himself earlier as the Head of the Imperial Military Department, spoke without raising his voice, his tone flat.

"Perhaps so. I’ve only recently been appointed to this position. I’m sure this is my first encounter with the Divine Sword Sect’s leader."

"I, too, wonder what Lord Commander thinks," a few others chimed in, curious.

"What about..."

The Great Commander did not respond immediately. Instead, his gaze drifted to the two men still locked in their exchange, watching their every movement intently.

Ma Gwang-ik and the leader of the Divine Sword Sect.

Jeong Yeon-shin, still with one hand firmly in Yong Hui-myeong’s grip, blocked the sword with his other hand, the energy of the blade flowing through his palm.

With his heightened senses, he could feel the presence of the Beijing nobles surrounding them, while a sharp, painful sensation shot through his hand.

"Did you intend to kill your superior?" Yong Hui-myeong asked with a disbelieving expression, his gaze over the long blade of his sword.

Jeong Yeon-shin saw his face twist into a look of mockery—one that was laced with playful teasing.

The strike from before, aimed to sever Jeong Yeon-shin's internal energy, had been swift, so fast it felt as though space itself were being cut, not just the air.

Yong Hui-myeong’s expression, however, remained stoic as he suppressed any outward signs of irritation.

Jeong Yeon-shin, having made a vow after his battle with the Wudang master, was determined to never falter again. He had resolved to set his sights on greater things, having come of age and shaped his destiny.

Stay composed, he thought inwardly. This resolve will be unchanging, like the eternal earth.

With this thought, Jeong Yeon-shin slowly lowered his hands and spoke.

"I have lost."

"We’ll call it a draw this time. Your output was truly impressive, and I had to pull out a bit of the Gongwolmu technique," Yong Hui-myeong said with a casual shrug.

"That flash of seven light beams—was that Gongwolmu?" Jeong Yeon-shin asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Yes, I momentarily used the technique of covering the blade with the Long Spine Sword. A well-timed strike, don't you think? I carry what is called the 'dragon bone,' but my shoulders are sore now. The force of that strike was overwhelming..." Yong Hui-myeong replied, gesturing as he twirled his sword, spraying light in every direction before smoothly sheathing it.

As soon as the sword was returned to its scabbard, he took a wide, exaggerated stance and smiled broadly.

"Anyway, you are a swordmaster worthy of our homeland's prestigious colors. I’m certain you would hold your own against the Emperor's three greatest warriors before he lost his powers," he said with a grin.

"You flatter me," Jeong Yeon-shin replied, his lips twitching into a fleeting smile before quickly returning to his neutral expression.

He quickly suppressed the momentary emotion. He reminded himself not to let his feelings sway too much—neither elation nor frustration should dictate his actions.

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Then, at that very moment, the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted the tension.

"Lord Yong seems to have found someone he trusts after all. Hoping to cover the sins committed in the Imperial Palace with a fresh face, are we?" The Grand Palace official approached, her red cloak sweeping the ground as her imposing figure blocked the sun.

Yong Hui-myeong lifted his lips in a sly grin. His face, once cocky toward the Grand Palace official, had regained its composure after the sparring session with Jeong Yeon-shin.

"No need for such words. I’m merely letting things fall into place," he responded casually.

"Indeed, with that level of ability, you could easily turn the attention of the royal family," the official remarked in a voice like that of a king of hell.

Jeong Yeon-shin raised his gaze as he looked at his shredded sleeve, feeling the searing pain in his arm as he processed what had just transpired.

He knew this moment was crucial—more important than even the latest martial exchange with Yong Hui-myeong.

‘The Grand Palace official,’ he thought. A figure who had ruled as the Emperor’s right hand for decades. There was no need for additional titles. She was a figure with significant influence over the appointment of the Divine Sword Sect.

Yong Hui-myeong had once mentioned that she, as the head of various branches and the head of internal affairs, held sway over all important appointments, including that of the Imperial Military.

And now, she approached him, her sharp gaze locking with his.

"I didn’t expect to meet you so soon, but I knew it would happen eventually," she said.

Jeong Yeon-shin raised his head. It had been a long time since anyone had looked down at him so directly. After his transformation, such encounters were rare, but in her presence, he felt the need to lift his eyes.

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Had the transformation been successful, their positions would have been reversed.

For a moment, Jeong Yeon-shin was reminded of the giant Pangu from the Shan Hai Jing.

The Grand Palace official, watching him with an unreadable expression, appeared even more ghostly pale.

Slowly, she spoke.

"...Is your position safe?"

“Quite impressive,” said the Grand Palace official.

“I see,” she replied calmly, turning her feet as her long robes billowed and her body slowly pivoted. Her demeanor was that of a silent, disciplined leader.

“I’ll send word soon,” she added, her voice low as she began walking toward the door, with the surrounding officials straightening their clothes and following her lead.

Apart from them, a few, including the Great Commander of the Jinyiwei, exchanged brief pleasantries with Jeong Yeon-shin before departing.

“Lord Commander, I look forward to seeing you again,” one said.

“...Be well,” Jeong Yeon-shin replied.

After the eunuch, Myeong-yeo, disappeared, Yong Hui-myeong gave Jeong Yeon-shin a hearty pat on the shoulder.

"On the surface, it’s easy to mistake that Grand Palace official for someone power-drunk. But the truth is, she's deeply loyal to the Emperor. Someone who cannot easily bend. Her mind is entirely focused on the Emperor’s authority and the stability of the kingdom.”

“...I see,” Jeong Yeon-shin replied.

“She's a tough one, no doubt. As for me, I’ve learned to deal with such figures. Before you don the robes of the Divine Sword Sect, you’ll need to show humility. If ever you meet her face-to-face, treat her like a high-ranking elder. She may look young, but she's the same age as your grandfather.”

“I understand.”

As Jeong Yeon-shin nodded heavily, Yong Hui-myeong suddenly grinned.

“Well done.”

“Excuse me?”

“You actually added ‘quite’ to the word ‘impressive.’ If you served in the Imperial Court, you'd surely make your mark. I’m quite impressed.”

Jeong Yeon-shin shrugged off the compliment. His gaze was fixed on the twilight outside, lost in thought.

The sun had already set, and he found it hard to even grasp how quickly the day had passed.

The officials capable of voicing opinions on the Divine Sword Sect’s appointment were figures whose inner thoughts were nearly impossible to read.

***

The next day, permission to enter the Imperial Palace was granted.

A letter had arrived, granting him free access to the Imperial Palace if necessary.

It was a formal letter with the seal of the Crown Prince, who had been intermittently governing in the Emperor's stead for decades.

“I won’t be going just yet,” Yong Hui-myeong said.

“There’s no need to throw myself into the midst of the intrigues here in Beijing. Besides, the Emperor is not even here.”

“Then I’ll stay put,” Jeong Yeon-shin responded, seated cross-legged on the floor of the inner hall. He had become the epitome of self-control.

Yong Hui-myeong’s face showed a hint of confusion.

“No, it wouldn’t hurt to get out a bit.”

“Is that so...?”

“The atmosphere here is strange. I feel odd, sinister energies lurking in every corner... It's as if a dangerous spirit might manifest. Perhaps, it's an opportunity to win the favor of the locals, who are obsessed with stability and authority.”

“Spirits?” Jeong Yeon-shin asked, his intuition alert.

“From what I gathered, the Emperor left just before we arrived in Beijing. It seems he wanted to briefly call upon his homeland’s strength to protect the city.”

“No word of that?” Jeong Yeon-shin questioned.

“Well, the Emperor is someone who speaks through his actions and martial prowess, not through words,” Yong Hui-myeong replied, shaking his head.

He continued, “I suppose I’ll go directly to the Emperor. Perhaps it’s for the best. We’re due for a meeting anyway.”

It was easy for him to talk about meeting the Emperor directly, likely due to the influence the Divine Sword Sect's status held. After all, his position symbolized authority within the empire.

“Of course, simply meeting with the Emperor won’t solve everything. The Grand Palace official wasn’t wrong in her assessment. She listens to the concerns of many, including the royal family and ministers. Despite her preoccupation with martial arts, she still holds the kingdom in her hands.”

“Is it about gaining the favor of the officials?” Jeong Yeon-shin asked.

“Yes. When the ideals, public sentiment, military might, and necessity all align, the color that emerges is purple. It's incredibly difficult to attain,” Yong Hui-myeong explained, grinning as he exited.

“Now that you’ve gained the favor of the Grand Palace official, you should take the opportunity to discuss matters with her. You’ve already won the favor of the chief elders, so I’m not too concerned.”

The Divine Sword Sect leader, eager to meet with the Emperor, disappeared as the summer breeze swept through the twilight sky.

Jeong Yeon-shin was left alone.

Even his assistant had left the room. His family’s residence was also in Beijing.

Then, a message arrived from the Grand Palace official. It was an invitation to a banquet, written in elegant brush strokes.

As the night deepened, Jeong Yeon-shin set out.

“The Emperor... Ma Gwang-ik?” he mused.

“I can tell by your appearance. Finally showing yourself, huh?” a voice murmured.

“Times are changing. A scheming traitor walks freely through the streets of Beijing.”

“Are you mad?! Don’t speak so loudly, the masters will hear!”

“Isn’t it true? Isn’t it all for personal gain, not the people’s welfare...”

“Please be quiet!”

As he passed by the murmuring crowds of Beijing, Jeong Yeon-shin walked along the moat surrounding the Imperial Palace.

The air was as clear as it had been in his hometown. The city’s people exuded an unfamiliar hostility, not unlike his own family’s servants.

As the night darkened, everyone began heading home, their clothes gleaming under the moonlight. All of them wore fine silk.

To Jeong Yeon-shin, everything was new—he found amusement in observing the walls and the people’s attire.

Soon, he arrived at his destination.

The hall was filled with orange hues, the glow of countless lanterns pushing back the night air.

“This way, sir,” a servant, looking quite dignified, guided him inside.

Jeong Yeon-shin was soon seated in front of the Grand Palace official, who still wore her red robes and dark crown.

‘Simple,’ Jeong Yeon-shin thought, noting the modest arrangement between them. There was only a white porcelain bottle, two wine cups, and some thin rice cakes.

Was it a lack of hospitality or her way of setting an example in these difficult times?

“Let’s get straight to the point,” she said.

The Grand Palace official spoke, her tone slightly softer compared to the one she had used earlier in the Divine Sword Sect’s hall.

“The northern tribes are breaking down the city walls. Many of the imperial high-level experts have joined the imperial army in advancing north, leaving the chaos of the martial world to be handled by the Divine Sword Sect. You understand, don't you? It may seem as though the imperial family has neglected the welfare of the people.”

“I suspected as much,” Jeong Yeon-shin replied.

“In such turbulent times... the black swords of the Divine Sword Sect have gathered to ensure their own safety. A force powerful enough to threaten Beijing has assembled, but the swords, which should be wielded for the safety of the people, now move according to their own will,” the official continued, her voice low, filling the open-air pavilion beneath the clear night sky.

“From there, doubt and suspicion arise. Given that the Divine Sword Sect’s power is now openly manipulated by an individual, can we really add another layer of purple authority? Is it not too much of a burden for the government? Can we really say that the Divine Sword Sect is acting solely for the greater good?”

“....” Jeong Yeon-shin said nothing, listening carefully.

“This is why the imperial family must be cautious,” she concluded.

A swift movement of her red sleeves brushed against the table as she poured wine into Jeong Yeon-shin’s glass, the liquid flowing smoothly to fill the cup, reflecting the full moon in its surface.

“The wine is like the welfare of the world. The full moon in your glass represents the chaos that has begun to invade the people’s homes,” she continued, her words deliberate.

“The martial world is growing stronger by the day, and the people, suffering from famine, have started to reveal their violent tendencies. Humans have always been limited in their strength, yet the power of the martial world only grows as it faces disaster. Even now, the Divine Sword Sect finds it difficult to manage the chaos alone,” she said, her tone pensive.

“Indeed,” Jeong Yeon-shin agreed calmly.

Across the vast land, hundreds of smaller factions roamed, pillaging in search of power, while the more elusive masters of the martial world wandered freely. The threat of northern invaders added to the unrest.

“The imperial family has attempted to eradicate the martial world several times since its founding, but the more we experience chaos, the stronger and more mysterious martial arts become. It never fades away. You, too, survived despite your family’s tragedy,” the official observed, her voice low.

“...,” Jeong Yeon-shin remained silent.

“The imperial family’s fundamental doubts have shaped the current discussions. Can the Divine Sword Sect, which cannot properly care for the people’s welfare, still hold its former value? Even if they wear the purple robes, the turmoil of the martial world only expands. Just like the full moon in your glass.”

A brief silence followed, the sound of crickets cutting through the stillness of the night.

The official extended her long index finger and gently tapped Jeong Yeon-shin’s glass.

“Now, answer me. Can the Divine Sword Sect suppress this full moon of chaos? What do you think of the martial world that will only grow stronger, where only the strong survive? Can you hold onto your life in the next five or ten years without the gathering of the black swords?”

Her pale eyes, reflecting the light of the moon, fixed upon Jeong Yeon-shin, who sat up straight with his back perfectly aligned.

He remained still, dressed in his black robe with one sleeve torn off, staring down at {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} his glass of wine.

He slowly parted his lips.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” she echoed, her face betraying a faint disappointment.

“I only hope... that I’m still alive in five years.”

Jeong Yeon-shin extended his hand slowly.

“I...”

As his fingers wrapped around the glass, the full moon reflected in the wine began to slowly split in two.

“This country’s martial world,” Jeong Yeon-shin concluded calmly, his voice steady.