Chapter – 52
After exchanging brief words with Kang Yu, Tae Cheonghwan entered a nearby inn.
“Bring me a bottle of liquor. The strongest one you have.”
After leaving the inn, Tae Cheonghwan poured alcohol over himself in various places. Then, swallowing the last gulp, he looked at the manor across from him.
It was Han Geum Jeonjang, run by a shaman’s family.
As a battleground that profited from money, it stood prominently even in the center of the city.
“Hsshh.”
Tae Cheonghwan took a deep breath. Spitting out the remaining alcohol, he stepped into the battleground.
“After the draw, strike first at the top-right. Then, for the second strike, channel your energy into the Huiyin and Milieu points, performing the Zhongjian style Heavenly Forest Qi Sword (Tianlin Qijian). At this moment, generate energy from Xiecheok, Danzhong, and Huangzheng to either counter or deliver a strike focused on the Zuojing and Huiyin points.”
Over the martial arts field, the dense branches of the trees cast shadows on the sky.
“The Tianlin Qi Sword’s variations, which allow for upward and downward strikes, are highly practical in real combat. They will be very useful during the tournament.”
“Thank you!”
Cheongmyeong, on the eve of the middle-level competition, bowed politely to the elderly man with snow-white hair.
At that moment…
creak
The gate of the martial arts field, three Chang away, opened slowly.
“Who goes there!”
An enraged Cheongmyeong shouted. Opening the gate during a practice session, ignoring the red flag that signals training, was a grave offense—one that could cost him his head.
But the face that appeared through the gap was familiar.
Cheongmyeong frowned immediately.
“Tae Cheonghwan…?”
Tae Cheonghwan walked toward the center of the field.
“You don’t even treat your seniors properly anymore?”
Cheongmyeong glanced at the old man and frowned, then pressed his hands together.
“Greetings… Sabaek.”
“Sabaek? What kind of nonsense is that!”
The old man standing beside Cheongmyeong barked, scanning Tae Cheonghwan from head to toe.
“Are you still wandering around like this?”
Tae Cheonghwan bowed.
“Greetings, Master Hyun-gang.”
Even seeing Tae Cheonghwan’s respectful bow, Hyun-gang clicked his tongue repeatedly.
“Tch. Pathetic. A Daoist, yet you’ve wasted several years indulging in pleasures. Don’t you feel ashamed in front of your disciples?”
Observing the atmosphere, Cheongmyeong added, crinkling his nose mockingly,
“Drank again, didn’t you?”
Tae Cheonghwan laughed.
“Yes. And it was delicious.”
He shook the bottle in his hand.
“No matter how great a famous liquor is, it can’t compare to a daytime drink like this.”
He held out the bottle.
“Want a sip?”
Hyun-gang’s expression turned cold.
“And what brings you here?”
Tae Cheonghwan lowered his shaking arm.
“I couldn’t miss something as entertaining as the Yongbong Tournament. Also, I wanted to check on the achievements of the juniors.”
Cheongmyeong scoffed at the word “junior.” Tae Cheonghwan scratched the back of his neck.
“And well… I thought I might pay respects to my master while I’m here. Haha.”
“Tch, tch, tch.”
Hyun-gang looked at Tae Cheonghwan as though he were a bug.
“Master Hyeon-je is in Sojeon. Be gone.”
“Yes, sir.”
Tae Cheonghwan saluted Hyun-gang half-heartedly and walked out of the field. Watching his staggering back, Cheongmyeong laughed again.
Tae Cheonghwan—once considered the shaman’s most talented disciple—was now nothing but a drunkard.
Cheongmyeong had seen countless cases of promising futures sacrificed for fleeting pleasures. And now, as expected, he was a man drowned in alcohol.
“Hey, Sabaek!”
“?”
Those reckless years were finally starting to sting. Cheongmyeong called out, a smile on his face.
“It’s been a while since we last saw each other! Shouldn’t you cheer me on?”
Tae Cheonghwan froze and looked at Cheongmyeong. Cheongmyeong’s smiling face held a teasing glint.
“Just think, Sabaek could’ve been here in my place.”
“….”
Tae Cheonghwan’s response was calm, though Cheongmyeong’s tone was clearly loaded.
“Cheering, huh?”
He scratched above his eyebrows.
“Your next opponent is someone named Kang Gu, right?”
“How do you know that?”
Tae Cheonghwan looked at Cheongmyeong and said,
“Yes. Do your best.”
“What?”
“Yes. Do your best. You asked me to cheer for you.”
“….”
Cheongmyeong was caught off guard. As he wondered about Tae Cheonghwan’s motives, the latter grabbed his hand.
“Do your best. I genuinely support you.”
In the eyes of the former delinquent Sabaek, there was sincerity. Tae Cheonghwan had never been sharp by nature, but he was also not usually so warm.
For some reason, Cheongmyeong felt uneasy and pulled his hand away.
“L-Let go!”
Tae Cheonghwan scratched his hand, bowed, and said,
“Then, I’ll take my leave, Master.”
Hyun-gang waved his hand in displeasure—“Get lost”—and Tae Cheonghwan bowed again before leaving the field. Cheongmyeong furrowed his brows as the Sabaek disappeared.
“Why is he acting like that all of a sudden?”
“Why? Well…”
Hyun-gang clicked his tongue.
“He’s just covering his displeasure while acting magnanimous. Shallow fellow, tch tch.”
But contrary to Hyun-gang’s thoughts, Cheongmyeong saw clearly: Tae Cheonghwan truly meant to cheer. He remembered the conversation Tae Cheonghwan had earlier at the inn with Kang Yu:
“-Cheongmyeong? The one listed here as your first opponent in the middle-level match?”
“-Yes. Why?”
“-Ah… hmm.”
“-I want to end tomorrow’s match quickly.”
“-Why, why suddenly?”
“-Just don’t like him.”
After five long days of rest, the Yongbong Tournament middle-level matches began. Unlike the preliminary rounds, which were sporadic, the middle-level matches were conducted one at a time.
A competition area had been prepared in the center of Hwacheongji, surrounded by hot springs. Spaces for spectators were set up, and a platform was built in the best viewing position for distinguished guests.
At that moment, a group of officials in ceremonial robes arrived at the platform. The leading elder looked pleased to see someone. It was Hyun-gang, the master of Cheongmyeong’s teacher, acting as his true mentor. Hyun-gang stood.
“Welcome, Sir Seo Taewi.”
Seo Taewi smiled warmly.
“Long time no see, Master Bujangmun.”
“Long time no see, Sir Taewi.”
Hyun-gang bowed respectfully.
“I did not expect you to open Hwacheongji for the Yongbong Tournament. On behalf of the association, thank you once again.”
“Haha. No need for thanks. The Yongbong Tournament, held under Hwangnim Association, is a joint venture between officials and the association anyway.”
Seo Taewi looked down at the crowd filling the arena.
“This is the first Yongbong Tournament since national affairs stabilized, held together with the Hwangnim Association. Such a display is necessary to calm public sentiment.”
Indeed, the spectators below seemed more awed by the view of Hwacheongji, formerly the famed residence of Yang Guifei, than by the matches themselves.
Satisfied, Seo Taewi changed the topic.
“By the way, I heard that the Shamans are participating in this tournament as well.”
Hyun-gang nodded.
“Yes. They are up first in the middle-level match.”
“The same one you mentioned before?”
“Before?”
“Yes, at the last Hwangnim Association tournament, you boasted that a talent had appeared who could oversee the world.”
“…Eh?”
‘Talent to oversee the world…?’
The last Hwangnim Association tournament had been over ten years ago. Hyun-gang realized who Seo Taewi referred to.
“Oh… that would be…”
“The first participant, is he the one you called that talent?”
Hyun-gang avoided Seo Taewi’s gaze and looked down at the arena. Among the throng of spectators, Tae Cheonghwan mingled with ragged fellows, laughing loudly.
“Was I mistaken?”
Hyun-gang breathed deeply.
“No, Sir Taewi is correct.”
He looked away from the arena.
“The heir of our school will astonish the world today.”
Seo Taewi smiled with satisfaction.
Hyun-gang then approached a corner of the platform, where a neatly combed, elderly white-haired man was leaning back in a chair, almost lying down.
Hyun-gang spoke brusquely.
“These are imperial officials. Aren’t you going to greet them?”
The old man’s gaze never left the arena.
“They’ve just been greeted by the master Bujangmun.”
“Eh.”
Hyun-gang sighed and sat beside him.
“Have you met Cheonghwan?”
“Yes, I have.”
“Will you leave him as he is?”
“If I don’t…”
“No…?”
“If I interfere, do you think he’ll listen? It’s fortunate if he even half-hears what I say.”
Recalling his conversation with Seo Taewi, Hyun-gang could not let it slide.
“What’s he thinking, wandering the Central Plains every day just drinking?”
Hyeonje whispered into Hyun-gang’s ear.
“I don’t know. Maybe he’s wandering for reasons other than drinking.”
“Other than drinking?”
Hyun-gang’s face flushed.
“Are you suggesting that a Daoist is gambling and chasing women around?”
Hyeonje finally turned to look at Hyun-gang, showing a look of contempt.
“Tch, tch. You only see what your eyes allow. If you were there the night before the preliminary round, you would’ve seen for yourself…”
“!”
Hyun-gang’s eyes widened in shock. He recalled that night: he had gone to inspect the brothels and been misunderstood, but it had been blown out of proportion.
“Let’s say that’s the case.”
“Hmm…”
The one angering Hyun-gang was none other than his master, Hyeonje, the greatest swordsman in the Shamans. Though he refused to join the Ten Emperors’ Association, his skill placed him firmly among the top three if he were to contend.
Despite his formidable reputation, Hyeonje had a major flaw: his social skills were completely lacking. Even within the Shamans, he neglected his duties, focusing solely on the sword.
Yet, he was endlessly lenient with his delinquent disciple, Tae Cheonghwan.
And that leniency had grown since Tae Cheonghwan began to slacken seven years ago.
No matter what was said, he assumed the disciple had his reasons. Though he appeared to have given up, Hyun-gang, who had spent decades with Hyeonje, knew the truth: the master’s attitude was one of deep trust and expectation.
This was proven even in the ongoing discussions between Hyun-gang and Hyeonje.
“If Cheongmyeong wins this match, we will strip Cheonghwan of the title of Shamans’ Number One Sword.”
“No.”
Hyun-gang erupted.
“No? How long do we leave the honor of being the Shaman’s top disciple in the hands of a drunkard!? It’s already been decided at the council! I cannot stand by any longer!”
Hyeonje remained calm.
“Yes. Shamans’ Number One Sword. That’s why it cannot be allowed.”
“What nonsense is that every time!”
“And now it begins.”
At that moment, Cheongmyeong and his opponent stepped onto the arena.
Hyun-gang sighed deeply. The council had already made the decision; even the capricious Hyeonje had no choice but to follow it.
“So, what is the name of the one Myeong will face?”
“Now pretending to care?”
Hyun-gang answered politely anyway.
“Someone named Kang Gu, from Heukryong River.”
“Kang Gu?”
“Yes.”
“Kang Gu… that Kang Gu, huh.”
“Do you know him?”
Hyeonje, who had been watching the arena silently, suddenly widened his eyes.
“Disqualify him.”
“What?”
“Disqualify him.”
Even his sarcastic tone had disappeared.
“This will ruin him, that boy.”
“….”
