Book 2 Chapter 29

Meet the Extraordinary

The top of one of the pavilions, which is a bit farther away from the hall.

In a room that exudes tranquility and neatness,

Two young men were talking.

One is a blue-robed young man sitting in a chair.

He wore three swords on his back,

In the hands of another young man in white, standing by the window, is a

It held a white crane with royal blue threads.

At first glance, they were both men of unrivaled brilliance. Despite their youth, the prayer emanating from their bodies was like that of a master at the peak of his powers. Turning to the young man in the blue-sampled robes who was sitting on a chair and quietly savoring the tea, the young man in the white-sampled nobleman's style who was staring out the window to see if he could appreciate the scenery lightly waved his folded saber.

"They say it failed!"

Even as he delivered the negative news of failure, there was an undercurrent of joy in his voice.

"Really?"

"Yes, sir. He was taken to the warden's office about half an hour ago, so it's probably safe to say he's done for."

"This angle……. I'm afraid I'm no match for your cleverness. I can't believe you've already gotten that far."

The young man in white smiled and said.

"No big deal. You know full well that the interests of our meeting are broader and sharper than that."

"And you failed, so maybe you're more talented than I thought?"

The three-sworded blue youth, two swords with dark green hilts slung across his back and a red hilt hanging from his waist, changed the subject. First things first. There would be plenty of time to congratulate themselves on their organization's intelligence later.

"Yeah, I'm surprised it didn't work with those two in there. I'm told that nearly all of the Swordmaster's first floor machinery has been reduced to a useless hunk of scrap metal, and it's going to take a lot of hard work on Mr. Kang's part to repair the damage."

"They're two of them. Isn't there anywhere they don't fit? Their specialty is getting into things and messing them up and blowing them out of proportion. They just don't fit on the surface……."

The blue youth's brow furrowed slightly. A momentary flash of disgust flashed across his face.

"Your mouth speaks the truth, and with those two in the mix, it's going to be hard to tie this one up quietly. I've yet to see one of those troublemakers finish a job quietly. But this is a big one!"

Even the words of the young man in white with the most impressive chiseled jawline gave off an unwanted vibe about them. Apparently, the two people referred to as "those two" had never had a good relationship.

"No matter how things turned out, wasn't the failure of the Hocheon River something we had hoped for to some extent?"

The young man from Qing replied.

"Right. We can't let them disgrace themselves. He's humiliated us all, and we can't let him be dealt with by a joint front of the Eight Segas and the Gunsou Defenses."

There was no hesitation in the white youth's voice as he reduced Hoa Zhang, the most powerful man in Namchang, to one of the smallest defenses. It was only natural for him to do so.

"Sure. We shouldn't have to borrow someone else's hand to wipe the ink off our face just because it's messy."

"Of course. It's only when you've embarrassed yourself like this that you really lose face."

The young man in white nodded in agreement. It was only natural for them to repay the insults they and their master had received with their own hands, so there was no room for exaltation. Hao Tiankang would have tried to repay his master's insult in his own way, but he couldn't let a mere disciple of the Minor Sect beat him to the punch. At first glance, it might seem like nothing, but to them, this was a very important matter.

"Oh, he finally got in this year?"

As if he had suddenly remembered something, the young man in blue asked the young man in white. Hearing his question, the young man in white's eyes subtly twitched, and his left hand subconsciously touched the ruler in his right hand.

"I see. Coincidentally, I ended up sharing a room with him."

A flicker of surprise appeared in the young man's eyes, then disappeared.

"Really? There's no risk?"

The young man asked in a slightly anxious voice. He felt unnecessarily uneasy that two completely different stories were coming together in a strange way.

"I can't imagine him being in communion with anyone else. It will never happen. Don't worry too much."

The young man in white said in a calm voice, as if to reassure him. The blue youth's face immediately brightened. His trust in the young man in white was great.

"Too many outsiders have been accepted this time. His presence, in particular, cannot be ignored. It is very likely that his addition will increase the power of the Eight Great Families, but we cannot allow forces outside of the Nine Families to take the lead."

"Don't worry. I'm always keeping a watchful eye. We cannot allow the leadership of the Heavenly Pavilion to fall into the hands of forces other than our nine factions. Nine pillars of the party are enough. We can't afford to have eight unnecessary stragglers interfere."

"I only trust you."

"Don't worry. It's as sure as the tea I brewed. I guarantee it."

"Is that so? If so, I can believe it. It is indeed a great skill. Your tea ceremony never ceases to amaze me."

The young man in blue took another sip of tea and said.

"Whoops, just a little hobby."

The young man in white, who had been staring out the window, turned and sat down in his chair, lifting his teacup to savor the tea before it cooled any further. If the temperature of the tea dropped any lower than this, it would be an insult to the tea. If it was too hot, the heat would numb the tongue's sense of taste and make it difficult to appreciate the flavor; if it was too cold, the cold would steal the flavor and aroma from the tea. He had no desire to insult one of his closest friends. As they sipped their tea in silence, their sleeves were embroidered with the same colorful dragon pattern.

Bi Ryuyeon, whose contributions to the destruction of one of the Kendo dormitories at the Tianmu Academy, the Gonghon Hall, had caused enormous financial damage, and Hyo-ryong and Jang Hong, who had contributed to the destruction with a contemplative attitude that only made him look distant, were able to avoid punishment from the director and were safely assigned rooms by a miraculous act of God, which could only be described as a freak flood in the desert, or an unexpected downpour in the desert. Luckily, the worst thing that could have happened was that I was dismissed immediately upon entering. There were many theories about the incident among the sword-marriage officials, but none of them could quench the burning curiosity of the three men. After a series of twists and turns, Bi Ryuyeon was finally assigned a room, but unfortunately, she would have to live apart from Jang Hong and Hyo Long. They had been assigned the wrong rooms. Ryu-yeon was assigned room 701, while Hyo-ryong and Jang Hong were assigned room 702. Although they were right next to each other, a wall separated them. It was a shame that they had to be separated from their best friends.

The dormitory for first-year gwandos was located on the seventh floor, at the very top of the sword hall. This was true of any dormitory. It was an unspoken custom here that first-year students were assigned the highest rooms. And as you progressed through the years, your assigned room would gradually move downstairs. The lower you live, the higher your grade. The reason for this custom was the difference in inconvenience caused by different lengths of travel.

In other words, if you had a room on the seventh floor, it would be inconvenient to move around. That's why the lower grades use the upper floors. A newcomer would have to bear the inconvenience of other seniors in the spirit of the Tao Te Ching. That was the law of this society. Even if one lacked the spirit of Zhang Yuyou on the inside, he or she still had to present a certain appearance on the outside. Otherwise, there was a risk of being unnecessarily criticized or bullied, so it was necessary to prevent these dangers in advance.

Of course, when you're a martial arts master, you swim about seven stories above the ground, but it's a matter of mood and old-fashioned etiquette, so no one was willing to change. And no one was willing to change. It's about seven stories high, about 10 sheets of paper long, and can be reached in two leaps if you're good at it. The hard-earned skills are not for decoration or display.

If someone was dying to get up and down the stairs to the seventh floor, you should immediately suspect them of fraudulent admission. There was no way that someone who hadn't mastered a single martial art would be allowed to enter the Heavenly Martial Academy. There were also many people who purposely preferred the seventh floor because it had a better view.

How to describe this man is difficult to say: perfection, heavenly talent, exquisite beauty? His appearance is impossibly perfect, his prayer practice restrained, his eyes shaped, his demeanor regal, his milky white robe gorgeous, and the sword at his waist gorgeously sheathed. A person with such a perfect appearance would indeed be called a Heavenly Master. And he was actually already being called a Heavenly Technique. Bi Ryuyeon gazed at the heavily armed man in front of her with ironclad perfection.

It was the kind of courage and prayer that would have made a man like him feel jealous at least once, but Bi Ryuyeon didn't want to waste her energy and time on such useless feelings, so she just shrugged it off and dealt with him.

He considered himself to be a superlative, superlative, superlative, superlative, superlative, superlative, superlative, superlative, superlative, superlative, superlative, superlative, superlative, superlative, superlative, superlative, superlative, superlative, superlative, superlative, superlative, superlative, superlative, superlative, superlative, superlative, superlative, superlative. It is not the case that those who have more are jealous and envious of those who have less, but those who have less are jealous and envious of those who have more.

The man who was objectively and universally judged to be the best in the world, but who had been relegated to a position of insignificance to Ryu-yeon, was the man who would be sharing a room with him for the next year, no matter what he looked like or what he ate. This was their first face-to-face meeting.

"Hi, nice to meet you. I'm Bi Ryuyeon. Take care."

She spoke first, greeting him with a greeting that lacked any semblance of formality. It was a casual greeting, as if they were stilt walkers. Of course, they weren't stilt walkers, and since they were meeting for the first time today, her greeting was a rude gesture that would make the other person feel uncomfortable.

"I am Moyong Hui of Moyong Sega in Hanan. Take care."

The man's name was Mo Yonghui. Despite receiving a poor greeting from Bi Ryuyeon, Mo Yonghui was not offended and greeted him politely with a bow. Looking at him carefully, Bi Ryuyeon said, "I'm sorry.

"How stiff!"

"What do you mean?"

This was her first impression and assessment of her room mate: handsome, but stiff and uninteresting, as if he had been photographed exactly according to a mold. Stiff and uninteresting meant boring, and boredom was a sin to her.

"Don't you think it's hard to be so stiff? Let's relax, it's so awkward with like-minded people?"

"I don't want to use plain language with someone who is new to me."

At Mo Yonghui's blunt reply, Bi Ryuyeon frowned slightly. She felt as if she was poking fun at herself for talking back to someone she had never met before. Of course, since appearing in Kangho, Bi Ryuyeon had been respectful to most people, except for a few people around her. It's strange that she didn't use respect for Mo Yong Hwi this time, but she did. However, there was no sign of respect in her words, even when she washed her eyes and tried to find it, but only ridicule and sneers.

His pretended respect was not respect, but mild mockery. In all but one out of nine cases, this was the case, so the only people he spoke plainly to were those he recognized; he only reserved his sarcastic respect for those he didn't recognize. Of course, his criteria for categorizing his opponents was too crude and personal. She muttered to herself.

'He's hard, harder than diamond, maybe even harder. What a yawningly uninteresting creature.'

Luckily, Mo Yonghui didn't hear him because he was muttering to himself. He had always been the envy of others, but when had he ever been treated so insignificantly? All he had ever received from those around him was envy, admiration, and praise. However, there are no exceptions in this world, and even if the other person was a Kirin child who was the envy and expectation of the late Late Warring States, he would never be bothered by such a sign or halo.

Therefore, Bi Ryuyeon didn't want to treat Mo Yonghui with difficulty or harshness, nor did he need to. Of course, he didn't even know who Mo Yonghui was, who had already made a name for himself at such a young age. If others knew, they would be stunned by his ignorance.

After exchanging the first words of greeting, Mo Yonghui buried his evaluation of each other deep in his heart and silently began to take out his luggage and organize it. As she watched Mo Yonghui take out the things he had brought with him and organize them one by one, Bi Ryuyeon's eyes shone brightly. There was something special about the way he organized his things. And the more she watched him organize his things, the paler her complexion grew. What was he freaking out about now? After another moment of watching Mo Yonghui's behavior, Bi Ryuyeon's impatience came to an end and he opened his mouth to ask. His question was full of questions.

"Do you have to do that, do you want to do that?"

"What do you mean?"

Mo Yonghui silently continued what he was doing, raising his jet-black eyes to look at Bi Ryuyeon. Even in the middle of the conversation, his actions hadn't stopped.

"Do you really have to angle the pipe like that, it's not like you're measuring something, you don't have to arrange the pipe like that with a ruler, isn't that laborious and annoying?"

"This is my habit, so I don't care!"

Mo Yonghui bluntly replied, "His crown jewels and luggage were so admirably measured that one could almost look at the quilt alone and see the perfectly square angles, the corners of which made it look like some fearsome weapon.

Mo Yonghui was not only obsessed with cleaning and organizing, but he also seemed to be suffering from a kind of hoarder's disease. Hoarder's disease (潔癖蒸). A dreaded disease characterized by an unusually clean personality, who cannot find peace of mind if their surroundings are cluttered. It's also known as "endless cleaning disease. There is no cure for this disease, which is characterized by the inability to tolerate even the smallest particle of dust in the air.

He was so meticulously organized that you wouldn't be able to find a single crookedness or misalignment. It was a far cry from the haphazard way she organized everything. But even though she admired each of Mo Yongyu's perfect arrangements, it was purely an admiration for his persistence and courage in wasting time and physical strength. It was nothing more than an admiration for his uniqueness, and Chu Ho had no intention of doing the same. He still firmly believed he was normal.

When she looked at Mo Yonghui, she remembered the phrase "overkill" (過猶不及: too much is not enough). His flaws and perfection were not excessive. Just a moment ago, I was worried that the year would be boring, but seeing his flaws made me realize that it wouldn't have to be. Of course, it will never be pleasant.