Book 19 Chapter 1

The Hundred-Year Quest

-line-of-sight

The time has finally come!

'The Swordsmanship Exhibition'. That's what the young man thought as he stood beneath the flagstones that guarded the Jia Zhu residence with a stern handwriting. He pushed open the door and a deep voice greeted him.

"Are you leaving today?"

"Yes, Father!"

The young man replied briefly.

As if the father-daughter duo weren't already close enough, their exchanges were fairly terse.

"Are you ready?"

Regardless of his faith in his son, the man seemed to think it was only natural to check and ponder once more. The son doesn't seem to blame him for that.

"Of course," he said, "my body and mind had been preparing for this long ago, and now that I have set my mind and body to it, my sword will be sharper than ever."

The father looked into his son's eyes. A fierce determination unbefitting his nineteen years burned in them like a flame. It may have burned more intensely during his decade of hardship, but it was a flame that had never been dulled or extinguished. That's why his father, the man he admired, the young man's grandfather, had higher hopes for him than he did. As a great hope for the fulfillment of a hundred years of desire.

'A Hundred Years' Wish…….'

A hundred years and a burden that hasn't been laid down, a wall that hasn't been jumped, a dream that hasn't been realized.

At the thought of it, his heart sinks again. A sensation that would probably haunt him for the rest of his life, like a water ghost, but would never leave. He looked at his son again, his heart even heavier.

"I failed!"

The young man flinched at his father's tone, a mixture of self-help and regret.

It's no wonder she was so upset that her son had to do the homework she couldn't complete.

"I never got over that wall. That was my limit."

Whenever I think of that wall, a part of my heart is always filled with regret.

"But……."

He paused, unable to overcome his emotions.

"But I know you will succeed!"

The river of time, a centuries-old grievance that has defied its course, and this child is the only one who can release it. That's what he thought in his heart, too, and that's why he, nay, his family, had invested so generously in whatever they could.

The best environment, the best teachers, and the most rigorous training to hone a prodigious talent. It was clear that his son was a prodigy, a genius that the world would recognize, and his talent blossomed into its best form when he met the best environment.

He could say it now without hesitation.

This is the masterpiece of politeness! This is the next one to go!

"Don't worry, father, now the strongmen will know that the Gongsong Family's 'Dignified Sword Technique' will never be beneath the Mo Yong Family, and Peony's sword will be broken by my hand!"

A terrifying speculation surged through the young man's entire body.

The current patriarch of the Gongsong Clan, Gongsong Jingyun, shuddered at the sight of the surging energy. As if the terrible memories had flown away in an instant, his heart was turbulent with a wave of anticipation.

Gong Son reached over and clasped his son's hands together.

"You'll make our gonghong taxes soar to the top of the heavens!"

His eyes glowed with heat.

"This father believes in you! Remember, the future of the Gongsong family rests on your two shoulders!"

A spark of determination flickered in the eyes of the polite man.

"Leave it to you, Father, the Martial Realm will hear that the heir to Peony has fallen under the sword of the Zi Zhen at this Ascension Festival!"

And Kang-ho will have no choice but to revise his review of the Gongson tax.

"Take this sword!"

Gongsong Jingyun said, thrusting one of his swords forward.

"This, this sword……?"

His eyes widened as he recognized the sword.

"I don't dare take the element!"

He bowed hastily and declined, for the sword his father had offered was one that only the patriarch of the Gongsong family could possess, and its name was "Extremely Precious." To hand over such a precious weapon to a young man who had only just come up through the ranks was an outrageous act.

But Gongsong Jingyun did not want to bend his will, so his hand was withdrawn.

"What are you waiting for? I am about to entrust you with the future of the Gongsong family, and this sword is the proof! If your grandfather were here, he would agree with me! Go ahead, take the future of the Gongong family, and open it with your own hands! How can you be an ambassador without that kind of determination?"

Gongsong Gongyun exclaimed in a determined voice.

"This is my resolve, so what is yours?"

Finally, the young man knelt down, raised his hands respectfully above his head, and accepted the sword. Then he bowed to the sword and said

"I will… I will make it happen."

Must… Must…….

The young man choked up and couldn't speak.

"Then leave!"

Gongsong Kyungwoon said, turning around. Despite the fact that his voice was already shaking violently, he tried to keep his composure until the end.

"I won't send it!"

He gave his father a big bow and walked out the door. Sometimes silence conveys more than words.

This had happened just a few days before Zhongyang's sailors arrived in Nanchang.

* * *

"Again?"

Mo Yonghui let out a deep sigh. A man who had suddenly appeared in front of him was shouting something at him.

"OXXOXXOX……."

But he couldn't hear what the random man was shouting; he was too tired right now to recognize the words with any kindness. Besides, it was obvious what he was saying. Perhaps he was introducing himself. Next time, he'd try to prove that he was just what the Academy needed. It was so common these days that it had become routine.

'At least hold the sword properly…….'

Whether it was because that was all he could do, or because he was so nervous, the tip of his sword was trembling slightly as he drew it toward Mo Yonghui. This was nothing new, as it had become increasingly common in recent years for people to be unable to keep up with their words. Just a little pathetic.

"Shouldn't you at least look them in the eye?

Subtly off-kilter gaze. It meant his posture was off, and by extension, it meant there were so many loopholes that it was hard to choose where to hit.

'That's the fifth time today…….'

Eek!

Mo Yonghui took a step forward.

"I have a long way to go.

It's kind of pathetic to spend any more time on this.

'We can't keep Mr. Yeomdo Nosa waiting any longer!

It was something that any common sense person would have avoided.

"Ugh!"

This is the fifth time today that I've heard the other person's embarrassment. Why is it that everyone can only react with their mouths, but not with their bodies? With that question in mind, Mo Yonghui stuck his fist in the place where he could most efficiently twist the other person's arm.

Bam!

With a loud crash, like the sound of a large drum breaking, the body of Anya was snapped in half. No, it would be more accurate to say five times, since it was the fifth time. The men before him were all just a bunch of nobodies in his mind. They had all given him their names, and their words, as they challenged him, but none of them had stuck in his mind. He had so much on his mind these days that he couldn't be bothered to remember any of them.

"Good, it was a one-shot deal."

Fortunately, I was able to avoid the wastefulness of firing two shots.

Hmmm!

Immediately after he spoke, Mo Yonghui was stunned. He looked at his opponent's fist, which had just landed nicely in his face, and at the challenger, who had challenged him like a ferocious wolf and was now writhing on the ground like an upturned cockroach.

"Is this what you mean by staining……."

It's been said that people are changed by experiences, and experiences are encounters, and whether you like it or not, it's through encounters that you are exposed to the myriad of possibilities that are scattered throughout the world. So experiencing nothing and not meeting anyone is the worst of the worst, giving up on your future and locking yourself in, but…….

"This is what bad blood looks like……."

Mo Yonghui muttered lamentably. Of all the countless encounters and experiences he'd had in his countless past lives, meeting a human like Bi Ryuyeon seemed to have left a really strong mark.

In the old days, a simple point of blood would have decided the game. I wouldn't have had to draw my sword. But he wouldn't have thrown his fist in the air so vigorously - or even pleasantly. This vigorous-or worse, violent-approach went against his aesthetic, but he did it anyway.

"I guess that means I'm affected too……."

A bitter accusation coats the tip of her tongue. Bi Ryuyeon… a strange man… there's something about him. You can't deny it, but you can't ignore it.

It's rare to find someone who believes so firmly in the ridiculous idea that the world revolves around them. And yet he did, and what's even more remarkable is that he sometimes made people around him wonder if his claims were real. That was a dangerous sign.

He was the eye of the storm, sweeping all around.

"That's why you don't want to move yourself……."

"Did you see the eye of the storm move? The original center doesn't move."

That's what he always said.

'Well, really, it's just a nuisance…….'

You're probably right.

"Well, this might be good sometimes……."

However, it's an immutable truth that you have to be selective with your friends. It was something to think about.

In the end, his sword was not drawn even once today.

"Should we go now? If we're late, Mr. Saltdo will be angry.

Straightening his slightly disheveled clothes, Mo Yonghui thought to himself, he hadn't even finished the basic training to learn the legendary secret technique yet.

"The basics are important. You need a large, rich land to grow many crops, you need a lot of water to float a large ship, and you need solid ground to jump high. If your vessel cannot hold these, I will not hesitate to break it."

They, the salt and the ice sword, could do it. He was about to take a step when his foot stopped dead in its tracks.

"Who's there?"

Mo Yonghui asked, tilting his head back slightly. The darkness responded with silence. He decided to shake the silence once more.

"You're not going to show up yet?"

There was still silence where he looked.

I've been feeling someone's gaze on me lately, but like a ghost, like a shadow, the owner of that gaze never shows up.

"Who?

His gaze was stealthy and insistent, but it didn't seem to be on a woman. He was a handsome man, with a rich family and a promising future, and as an added bonus-although most people would consider this to be of the utmost value-he was also a good-looking man, which had caused him quite a bit of trouble. There were quite a few women who followed him secretly, their eyes lighting up as if they would not miss a beat. To his great embarrassment, he was helpless, for for the first time he was frightened by the frightening persistence of women. It gave him the ability to distinguish between a man's gaze and a woman's gaze. After many close calls, his senses had become specialized in that direction. As a result of his experience, the gaze was unmistakably that of a man, and it was a blade-like gaze with a wide-open hostility. If the owner of this gaze were a woman, it would be terror itself.

'No way…….'

Mo Yonghui reassured himself again.

Eyes filled with the will to dissect everything about him. Only the owner of the gaze knew what awaited at the end of that dissection.

'Considerable adherence…….'

The fact that his senses could catch it, but he couldn't locate it, meant that it was someone who had cultivated quite a bit. Of course, if it was cultivation, Mo Yonghui was also practicing to the point of exhaustion. The constant reinforcement of his cultivation was a rigorous schedule that even he, who had cultivated rigorously and intensely since birth, could hardly endure.

It was Yin Do who was currently instructing him. Laying the foundation somehow seemed to be the goal and role of both of them. What kind of martial art was this, that the martial art of Yin Do and the martial art of Ice Sword were merely laying the groundwork? It was indeed worthy of being called a legend.

I've asked myself many times if I can do it, but the answer is no. I haven't even gotten into the main story yet, and it's hard enough.

She pondered who she thought might be watching her, but nothing came to mind. But it didn't matter.

"We'll see."

With a quick sweep of his arm toward the darkness, Mo Yonghui turned to leave. He still had a lot of homework to do. He still had a lot of training to do today.

At the thought of it, fatigue suddenly overwhelmed him. But he couldn't give up. He was determined not to give up again. He had resolved never to give up again, and he had no intention of drawing the line at his own existence.

Mo Yonghui diligently shifted his feet and began to walk, and then he thought.

"What is he doing right now?

* * *

Is it raining?

I lift my head and look up. The vast expanse of night sky is as clear as a lie, so why is he so drenched? Without hesitation, he turns his gaze to the left: the wall he's leaning against has spiderweb-like cracks that, just a moment ago, were nowhere to be found, stretching out in all directions as if to trap him.

A trail that was nowhere to be found just moments ago. The center of the trail was just an inch from his face.

"It was dangerous……."

A single step to the right and his face would have been cracked like the wall. If he had lost his composure and moved an inch, his presence would have been noticed.

"Phew!"

The young man silently patted his chest. He'd thought he'd blended in perfectly with the darkness after killing his prey, but alas, he'd been partially deceived.

"Indeed! That's the Mo Yonghui of the Seven Deadly Swords!"

It was a big hit. Craftsmanship was an afterthought. This was the twentieth time. That was the number of fights Mo Yonghui had been following and watching. It had only been three days.

But there was one problem.

"That doesn't help me at all!"

The young man grumbled.

Not once, not twice, not twenty times, but all twenty times, the common thread was that they were all in the same room, and it was almost impossible to figure out the nature of his martial arts because it was so esoteric. You'd have to draw a sword and swing it once to get anything out of it.

If I learned anything, it was the simple fact that I needed to pay attention. I needed to be more disciplined.

"Is this what we really need……."

In his current state, he couldn't see himself losing. He couldn't picture himself as a victor. Losing? That could not happen. He must win, for the sake of his family's honor, and for the sake of solving a hundred years of mystery.

He needed to elevate his commitment and add sharpness and life to his sword's brilliance, and there were obvious limitations to practicing alone.

Conveniently, there was only one choice left. Luckily, there was plenty of prey. There were plenty of menstruating women to practice on.

He realized the hard way that if he didn't develop the ability to take out an opponent with a single punch, he wouldn't even be on the same starting line.