Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 416: The Hem of the Clothes of Seocheon (1)

"Are you Yeonhwa Nata Seomye?" he asked.

"What’s your business?"

Jeong Yeon-shin responded briefly. The boy’s face softened slightly, as he seemed relieved to have spoken.

"I’ve come to deliver my thanks on behalf of my busy parents. My family resides on the outskirts of Beijing, and I only recently heard rumors of Lord Ma Gwang-ik’s arrival. As you know, the land is vast, so the news travels slowly."

The boy’s tone was polite, but there was a sharpness to his words.

He then extended his hand, the one that had been behind his back, toward Jeong Yeon-shin.

There was a hint of awkwardness in his gesture. Clutched in his hand was a golden reed.

"Please accept this."

The boy seemed confident, as though he had never known defeat, but his conduct displayed the proper courtesy expected from one of his status.

However, Jeong Yeon-shin was not easily impressed.

His mind was already clouded with thoughts about the matter regarding the Purple Rank division, and as for Beijing’s nobility, they were no different than the martial artists in the Jianghu in his eyes.

Perhaps it was due to the countless fingers pointed at him in the capital, making him think of Jeong Gajang, his own family. His eyes betrayed the indifference he felt.

"I don’t understand what this means."

"It’s a recent custom. As the sun rises and sets, bad harvests are never-ending, so we give something like a good reed or a stalk of rice, as a wish for a prosperous future..."

Jeong Yeon-shin took the reed from the boy’s hand and examined it closely. Indeed, as the boy had said, there was a faint golden sheen running down its length.

Could it be stored using the mysterious techniques of a noble family? It was the kind of greeting that noble families would exchange.

"Thanks to you, the great trouble of my family was alleviated, though my parents were too disorganized to express their gratitude properly. But I believe it is not right. It is only proper to show my appreciation personally," the boy continued.

"The trouble of your family?"

"My father holds the position of General of the Thousand Prosperities in the capital. My mother serves as the governor of Shanxi. Before the death of Head of the Zhuge Clan, my parents had been deeply troubled. They would often confide their frustrations when they visited our home."

The position of General of the Thousand Prosperities was one of high rank, existing only in Beijing, Nanjing, and Hangzhou.

This was a position tasked with organizing defenses within the city and leading defensive tactics when external invaders or martial artists came.

And the governor of Shanxi was one of the highest-ranking officials, ruling over a vast territory. Given Shanxi’s proximity to Beijing, her influence was undoubtedly significant.

Jeong Yeon-shin ran his ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) fingers over the long reed. Lord Ma Gwang-ik was a master of social strategy.

"The color is quite fine."

It was like handling a rare treasure. And in fact, many referred to Jeong Yeon-shin as a peerless swordsman. The boy’s lips curled, as though he were about to smile broadly in admiration.

"I hope you do not pay attention to the criticisms of ill-natured people. They are all unworthy. Not all people in Beijing are of such crooked minds. Perhaps because I am the child of a local official, I deeply understand the labor and effort you and the Divine Sword Sect have put forth..."

At that moment, Jeong Yeon-shin furrowed his brows slightly, as he felt a faint vibration, a sensation that he knew well.

‘Is it a fight? I don’t sense a strong aura.’

A vibration, as though it had come from metal, reverberated through his senses. A swordsman.

"Good fortune to you. Go home now."

Without waiting for the boy to speak further, Jeong Yeon-shin leaped into the air.

Before the boy could say anything more, Jeong Yeon-shin had already distanced himself, leaving behind only the imprint of his footsteps.

Boom!

He didn’t need to run far.

With a swift leap across rooftops using his swift movement, Jeong Yeon-shin soon found himself at the source of the vibration.

It was the outer city of Beijing.

The air carried the distinct, bitter smell of blood. The scent of those recently dead.

Two bodies, the corpses of eight Imperial Guards from the Golden Guards, a pool of crimson sand, and the damp summer breeze.

"..."

The leader of the Divine Sword Sect, Yong Hui-myeong, had clearly not intended to follow through on his orders. Jeong Yeon-shin decided, right there and then, to postpone entering the palace.

***

An hour later, a huge commotion surged into the Forbidden City.

***

A place filled with golden silence.

A statue of a golden dragon, holding the pearl of heaven, gazes down from the center of the ceiling, overlooking the hall.

The golden body of the dragon curls into countless spirals, symbolizing the grandeur of the Forbidden City, and beneath it, the civil and military officials of the court have gathered.

Their red, yellow, and blue silk robes shimmer with a smooth luster.

From their lips came sharply pointed words.

"I deeply apologize for the delay in my entrance, but there is something that must be addressed. That person... Why would a black-robed warrior from Ipwang Fortress be placed among those discussing national affairs? I am quite confused."

"You would do well to watch your words. A member of the Divine Sword Sect is of a higher status than you, and it would be no exaggeration to say that his rank is beyond yours. I fear you might suffer an unseen calamity should you provoke him. These people treat the lives of the officials as casually as those of martial artists."

"Only for criminals, it seems."

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

A large woman dressed in a red robe spoke sharply, and the hall fell into silence.

Soon, the officials' eyes shifted to Jeong Yeon-shin, who stood at the edge of the carpet dividing the palace. He gave a subtle gesture to the Grand Minister, who had defended him earlier, acknowledging his support.

The Grand Minister did not respond. His head had already turned towards the throne.

"Grand Minister."

The voice was dry and emotionless.

The entire palace seemed to fall into a deep stillness, and the air in Taihe Hall grew heavy and arid, as if the life had been drained from it.

From beneath the golden throne, where no one was seated, a man on a red gilded chair spoke.

"Yes, Your Highness."

The Grand Minister bowed his head.

"It’s all so noisy. Clear the room. Grand Minister, you should leave as well."

The man, reclining slightly on the red throne, spoke.

The dark robe draped over his upper body, paired with a crimson skirt called hongshang, clearly marked him as the Crown Prince of the empire.

His posture was lazy, as though using the back of the golden throne as a bed, and it signified his indifference to the gazes of the surrounding officials. He didn’t even look at Jeong Yeon-shin.

He was the oldest Crown Prince in history.

His father, the emperor, was a hybrid of a noble lineage and a martial genius, reigning for many years without challenge.

His father was so devoted to studying the martial arts of Shaolin that he traveled alone to carry out the 108 Arhat formations. Thus, there had never been a moment when the Crown Prince had been allowed to sit on the golden throne. The Crown Prince had held his position for decades.

"How I loathe them. They spout meaningless words, thinking they are great counsel... They can all go away."

The civil and military officials turned and left at once. None dared to argue with the Crown Prince, even though rumors had spread that the Crown Prince’s death might come before the emperor's.

"They are just the kind of people Master Danju spoke of," Jeong Yeon-shin thought quietly.

The Crown Prince muttered under his breath.

"Has the death of the great general been confirmed...? That would be outside the emperor’s expectations."

His voice carried a sense of weariness beneath the shadow of his deep-set gaze. At a glance, he almost appeared like a wise monk.

Soon, there were only two people remaining in Taihe Hall—the Crown Prince and Jeong Yeon-shin. A brief silence passed before the Crown Prince subtly lifted his head and glanced at Jeong Yeon-shin.

"You are not at all like Ma Yeon-jeok," he said.

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"I am deeply honored."

"...?"

The Crown Prince tilted his head for a moment, then gestured toward Jeong Yeon-shin’s hand.

"What is that reed?"

"It was given to me by a boy in the marketplace before I entered the palace. He said it was to express his gratitude for the favor done for my family..."

"So, you didn’t throw it away and brought it with you. It seems you were quite flustered. How could you have known that Beijing would be in such chaos?"

Muttering these words, the Crown Prince looked down at Jeong Yeon-shin again, his voice slow as he spoke once more.

"You’ve come seeking the Purple Rank, haven’t you?"

"I entered due to the deaths of the officials."

Jeong Yeon-shin spoke in a neutral tone.

Unlike the Crown Prince, with whom he had exchanged a few personal words in the past, Jeong Yeon-shin found no particular fondness for this man.

"Ah, the deaths of the officials. Yes, it is indeed a most... regrettable incident. But what can be done? The current empire is sustained by sacrifices made for the greater good."

"Your words are unclear."

"Enough. You want the Purple Rank, don’t you? Wait here. A test will be prepared for you."

Jeong Yeon-shin felt an odd sensation.

Despite hearing about the deaths of the officials and the brutal martial traces left behind by their deaths, and even receiving the news of the Golden Guards’ disappearance, the Crown Prince remained unusually unfazed.

'What is this?'

Jeong Yeon-shin’s breath hitched slightly. Something felt off.

Had the Crown Prince sensed it?

As he stared vacantly at the golden dragon statue in the air, the Crown Prince’s eyes finally returned to Jeong Yeon-shin.

"Do you know the story of the one reed crossing the river?"

It was the story of the legendary monk, Dharma, crossing the vast Yangtze River on a single reed. He had evaded the soldiers chasing him by using the mysterious martial technique of the Shinmyeo Bodhisattva.

"He did nothing. He did not use any martial arts against the soldiers who sought to kill him, nor against the emperor. He simply avoided the fight."

The Crown Prince tapped the armrest of the chair lightly. The sound of his finger hitting the surface echoed through Taihe Hall.

"When I was younger, I didn’t understand. A man who might have been the best martial artist of his time, or even the greatest of all time, avoiding a fight with mere soldiers? But he was a man who saw the bigger picture. He knew that his abilities were unparalleled, so if he struck out, he would be forced to confront the world. No ruler would allow such a man to exist."

"...Your Highness."

"Sometimes, it is better to avoid. A true master does not wield his martial skills recklessly... True masters, like him, avoid disturbing the empire. Your grandfather was the exception."

The Crown Prince continued.

"I hear that you are a rare master of the martial arts. If that’s true, you will understand how to wait, just as Dharma did. The Purple Rank is not something that can be granted by the royal family alone. The common folk, the scholars of the lowlands, the proud Beijing nobility... ultimately, it is the world that must recognize it. Only then will the Purple Rank be rightfully yours. You must prove that you are worthy to wield the sword, regardless of rank."

"Now, what is happening outside?"

Jeong Yeon-shin asked quietly.

Even as the Grand Minister closed the door behind him and departed, a feeling of complete separation from the outside world lingered.

Even now, no energy waves could be sensed. There was no martial energy from the officials, nor from the Grand Minister’s presence.

Taihe Hall.

This was where the emperor discussed national affairs. More mysterious than the residence of the Grand Minister of the Southern School.

It seemed that some kind of martial formation had been set up.

"Wait a little longer. Trends change in this world, and new rumors often spread from Beijing. If this place does not recognize you, you cannot attain the Purple Rank. And remember, some threats are only truly understood when you experience them firsthand, and the relief once they are gone is all the more profound."

The voice was like a chilling blade. The intent was clear. After pushing Beijing into some danger, Jeong Yeon-shin would be made to save the great city.

"I’ve heard that an evil spirit may be wandering around. Was the death of the officials the work of this spirit? Am I supposed to slay it?"

Jeong Yeon-shin asked while adjusting the empty spot at his waist. The Divine Sword was temporarily entrusted to the Golden Guards.

He could not wear his battle gear in the palace, where the imperial family resided.

The Crown Prince nodded.

"Even if there’s a bit of bloodshed... to break the tense atmosphere brought by the gathering of the Divine Sword Sect and create a justification to grant you the Purple Rank, there is only one way. Do you think I could grant you such an authority, without reason, to someone who had threatened the imperial power, even for an instant? However, it is clear that the current imperial family needs a peerless martial artist like you. It all comes down to great sacrifice for the greater good. When ruling a nation, one must think on a grand scale. Although, I do not rule this land, of course..."

His words were lifeless.

Jeong Yeon-shin had no idea what kind of life the Crown Prince had lived in the Forbidden City, but his voice sounded nothing like that of a living person.

Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t care.

His fingers twitched as they touched the red carpet. At the same time, the Crown Prince’s eyebrows, who had been looking down at him from the golden throne, twitched as well.

"Are you planning to defy me?"

"I plan to save Your Highness's people."

"There is no one in this world whose people I would take under my care. And you have no sword. I’ve heard that your sword techniques reign supreme in the martial world, but what can a renowned swordsman do with empty hands?"

Jeong Yeon-shin, who had been staring silently at the Crown Prince, gently caressed the reed in his hand. His mind raced, constantly questioning whether this was the right decision.

Was this how it should be, with the Purple Rank on the horizon? Was he going to be cast out from Ipwang Fortress?

Time stretched, fragmented into endless moments, as deep thought swirled in his mind. In the end, one face emerged.

‘Grandfather.’

The old Crown Prince had certainly called on his grandfather without hesitation. The infamous Ma Yeon-jeok wielded the Purple Rank. How could a righteous man like Jeong Yeon-shin not follow in his footsteps?

"If I see this as a weapon..."

He made his decision.

"Then this too is a sword."

Within Jeong Yeon-shin’s heart, a dragon, adorned with a fan, stirred. It wound itself around the reed in his hand, curling into a tight spiral.

As the power of Seonryong exploded like a resonating sound within Taihe Hall, the reed shot upward with a loud crash—piercing the ceiling of the hall, shooting toward the sky endlessly.

In the same instant, Jeong Yeon-shin blurred and leaped into the air with the reed. A powerful gust of wind swept violently through the palace’s interior.

CRASH—!

Along with the dust, fragments of wood scattered in all directions. The short murmurs of the officials still reverberated in the hall.

"Again..."