Chapter 33 – Natural Enemy (2)

Countless beautiful lakes, including East Lake, sparkled under the evening glow, and in the distance, the Yangtze River meandered, winding its way past Wuhan.

The highest pavilion in Wuhan, Hubei Province.

It was the most elevated and magnificent pavilion in Wuhan, revered by the righteous martial artists, who called it Heavenly Martial Pavilion. Standing atop this grand structure, Zhou Zhonghe, the Alliance Leader of the Murim Alliance and known as the Fist Emperor, gazed out at the Yangtze River flowing under the setting sun.

Hailing from a small martial family in Nanchang, Jiangxi Province, known as the Zhu Family Manor, Zhou Zhonghe was a legendary figure who had polished his family martial arts, which were far from comparable to those of prestigious orthodox sects, and risen to become one of the Three Emperors of the martial world.

Now at sixty, watching the flowing waves of the Yangtze River, he thought.

‘Just as the waves behind push the waves ahead, it seems my time to step down as Alliance Leader has come.’

Neither part of the Nine Great Sects nor the Seven Great Families, he had nevertheless built exceptional martial prowess as a man from a small martial family. Thirty years ago, when the Blood Cult Rebellion threatened to plunge the Central Plains into chaos, he rose decisively, achieving great feats and earning unanimous support to become the Alliance Leader, a position he had held for fifteen years.

But now, it was time for him to step down.

As Zhou Zhonghe gazed at the flowing Yangtze River and resolved to return to his hometown in retirement, he heard the voice of a servant girl interrupting his thoughts.

“Alliance Leader, I’ve brought you tea.”

At her words, Zhou Zhonghe turned his head toward the entrance and replied,

“Alright, come in.”

The young woman who entered was a servant in her early twenties.

She was a newly appointed servant of the Alliance Leader’s Hall within the uppermost floor of the Heavenly Martial Pavilion. One of the previous attendants, who had served the hall for years, had recently resigned to care for her ailing parents, necessitating the recruitment of a new attendant.

-Clink.

“I’ve prepared Xishan White Dew tea.”

“Xishan White Dew?”

Hearing this, Zhou Zhonghe’s eyebrows twitched slightly.

His reaction stemmed from the fact that Xishan White Dew was a famous tea produced in Xishan, Nanchang, Jiangxi Province, his hometown and the location of the now-ruined Zhu Family Manor.

Occasionally, Zhou Zhonghe had reminisced about the tea he had enjoyed in his youth. However, to avoid being perceived as overly particular by his subordinates, he had settled for more commonly consumed teas like Mengding Tea or Fangshan Dew Buds within the alliance. Yet, at this moment of nostalgia, to be presented with Xishan White Dew felt serendipitous.

As he received the teacup in his hand, memories of his youth seemed to rise along with the fragrance of the tea.

It was as though the servant girl who had brought the Xishan White Dew had read his mind.

Zhou Zhonghe quietly observed her face.

She had thick eyebrows, a gentle gaze, and a beauty mark near her lips.

He hadn’t thought much about her appearance before, but now, with memories of the past flooding in alongside the tea’s aroma, he realized that her face reminded him of someone from long ago.

‘Now that I think about it… she truly does resemble her…’

The woman who came to mind was none other than the wife he had lost thirty years ago during the Blood Cult Rebellion.

Even as she lay dying in his arms, she had told him not to think of revenge and had cared for him until her last breath.

「‘My love, please don’t think of revenge… Protect the family instead…’」

-Thump.

The moment he recognized this resemblance, his heart, which had been calm for the past thirty years, seemed to beat anew.

However, with his deep cultivation, he quickly steadied himself and dismissed the distracting thoughts.

‘It must be because I’m getting old….’

Shaking off the useless emotions, Zhou Zhonghe prepared to savor the taste of the Xishan White Dew brought by the servant girl.

At that moment, a voice called out from outside.

“Alliance Leader, it is Military Advisor Zhuge Hu.”

Hearing the unexpected voice of the Murim Alliance’s Military Advisor Zhuge Hu, Zhou Zhonghe turned his gaze to the window.

The sun was already setting, and it was the time when most people would have retired for the day.

Looking outside, he confirmed that the sun was indeed nearly gone.

Facing the door, Zhou Zhonghe spoke,

“What brings you here at such a late hour? Come in.”

As soon as he heard the words, Zhuge Hu, the Military Advisor of the Murim Alliance, rushed into the room in a fluster and quickly cupped his hands in greeting.

“I apologize for disturbing your rest, Alliance Leader. The truth is, we’ve received a report from the Tang Family of Sichuan, and I thought it was urgent enough to inform you right away.”

“If the Military Advisor has come rushing at this hour, it must be an important matter. Speak.”

If Zhuge Hu was visiting at such a time, there was undoubtedly a compelling reason for it.

As Zhou Zhonghe smiled faintly, Zhuge Hu lowered his head apologetically once more and placed a letter on the table before the Alliance Leader. Then, he delivered an unbelievable report.

“This time, the Tang Family recovered the severed head of Tak Wun-yang, the Blood-Hand Rakshasa, as well as the secret manual of the Blood Water Poisonous Claws.”

“Blood Water Poisonous Claws!?”

-Crack!

-Drip, drip…

The moment he heard the words Blood Water Poisonous Claws, the teacup in Zhou Zhonghe’s hand shattered, spilling tea onto the table.

The Blood Water Poisonous Claws was an Evil Cultivation Technique developed by the Blood Cult, a technique that had caused the deaths of countless righteous martial artists thirty years ago during the Blood Cult Rebellion. Hearing that its secret manual had finally been recovered caused Zhou Zhonghe to lose his composure.

In an angry voice, he asked Zhuge Hu,

“Where!? Where exactly did they recover it?”

The Blood Water Poisonous Claws was the very technique that had taken his wife’s life, and the mention of it stirred emotions that Zhou Zhonghe could not suppress.

Thirty years ago, when the martial artists of the Central Plains burned down the Blood Cult’s stronghold, it had already been abandoned. Somehow, Tak Wun-yang had obtained the manual twenty years ago and briefly plunged the martial world into chaos. However, neither his severed head nor the manual had been recovered back then.

“He fell off a cliff after receiving a strike from the Man of Ten Thousand Poisons and ended up drifting to Haenam Island, where he seemed to have gone into hiding.”

“Haenam Island!?”

“Yes. I spoke in detail with the person who came from the Tang Family. I can explain everything to you, it’s quite an intriguing story. There are tales of a young hero and even strange venomous creatures.”

“A young hero and venomous creatures?”

Having initially come to deliver a report, Zhuge Hu now fully settled into a seat as he continued his story. Zhou Zhonghe, intrigued, became thoroughly absorbed in the narrative.

The exciting tale of recovering the Blood Water Poisonous Claws and defeating Tak Wun-yang was far more thrilling than the adventures Zhou Zhonghe himself had experienced thirty years ago.

***

“We seem to have much to discuss, so you may leave for now.”

“Yes, Alliance Leader.”

With a faint smile, the servant girl exited the Alliance Leader’s office and headed to her quarters.

Directly below the Heavenly Martial Pavilion’s residence for the Alliance Leader was her own room.

As it was already the hour when most people had gone to rest, the Heavenly Martial Pavilion was nearly deserted except for the guards patrolling the area. On her way, she passed by a guard who had made advances toward her twice before. But by the time the servant girl arrived at her quarters, her expression was entirely different from the one she had worn in the Alliance Leader’s office.

Gone was her smile, and along with it, any semblance of emotion.

Her cold, expressionless face under the moonlight streaming through the open window took on an eerie and chilling air.

Gazing out the window, the servant girl murmured something incomprehensible.

“Blood Water Poisonous Claws… It must be related to the Cult…”

With a frosty expression, she muttered to herself.

She then sat down, pulled out a piece of paper, and began writing something on it. Curiously, she used no brush, ink, or inkstone.

-Scritch, scritch.

Under the pale moonlight, every stroke of her hand left a crimson line on the paper.

If anyone had witnessed her actions, they would have been shocked.

For she was writing with her own blood, drawn from the tip of her little finger.

After jotting down a few brief sentences on the paper using the blood from her pinky, the servant girl walked to the window, where a cage held an owl. Taking the owl from the cage, she tied the blood-written note to its leg.

-Flap, flap.

Moments later, the owl flew from her hands and disappeared into the darkness of the night sky over Wuhan.

***

It had been five days since Grandfather had left to save the Sichuan Magistrate.

“Focus your energy toward your feet from here…”

The night was darker than usual, with clouds obscuring the moonlight.

Unable to sleep, I had lit a lantern in the training grounds and was practicing movement arts.

It was because watching Father-in-law, Grandfather Man of Ten Thousand Poisons, and Nunim perform Qinggong with such ease, along with other martial artists, had given me the impression that it would be very simple, but it was anything but easy.

If you use too much Internal Energy while performing Qinggong, your speed increases but you can’t sustain it for long. On the other hand, if you use too little, you can sustain it longer, but your speed slows down significantly.

The key, therefore, was to properly allocate and manage your Internal Strength.

If you got too excited chasing an enemy and ran out of energy, you’d end up getting killed on the spot.

And more importantly, it all came down to rhythm and timing.

Unless you had an infinite reservoir of Internal Energy, what truly mattered in Qinggong was efficiency and timing.

You had to push your energy through your toes precisely when your foot landed and lifted off the ground, almost like playing a rhythm game. If you didn’t push the energy in sync with the rhythm, your steps would go awry.

If your steps went off, you’d just end up tripping over your own feet and falling flat on your face.

It felt eerily similar to those rhythm games from my past life.

Honestly, I’d played rhythm games at arcades a few times back in my previous life, so I was able to pick up the sense for it quickly. If I hadn’t had that experience, I probably would have struggled a lot more.

“Come to think of it, were the people who managed to run for days using Qinggong without a single misstep even human?”

Once I started learning Qinggong, I couldn’t help but gain immense respect for Nunim.

To think that she had run continuously for days, barely sleeping, like a marathoner performing Qinggong, essentially, she had hit all the notes in a rhythm game for days without missing a single one.

As I reflected on how incredible Nunim was, I was jogging around the training grounds in the cool night air, about two laps in, when I heard a familiar voice coming from the entrance.

“Soryong?”

“Young Miss Hwa-eun!? Uh, uh…. uh….”

Hearing Nunim’s voice threw me off, and I missed the rhythm and lost the impact moment.

Instead of propelling myself forward, my body shot straight up into the air, and I came crashing down.

-Crash!

“Ahhh, damn…”

The pain reverberated through my entire body as I hit the stone floor.

Thanks to my Internal Energy, which protected my body, I wasn’t seriously injured, but the impact was still significant.

As I rolled over on the ground, groaning, I heard Nunim’s concerned voice.

“Soryong, are you okay?”

I lifted my head at her voice and saw Nunim’s face, gazing at me with a worried expression in the dark.

“Y-yes, I-I’m fine. Ow, ow…”

I quickly got up, dusted myself off, and tried to look fine, then Nunim asked.

What in the world was I doing alone in the middle of the night.

“What are you doing in the training grounds so late at night?”

“Ah, just thought I’d practice some qinggong…. It didn’t seem to be going well during the day.”

Hearing my response, Nunim widened her eyes in surprise.

With the lantern behind her, I couldn’t see her expression clearly, but her slightly embarrassed tone carried through her voice.

“Ah, I see. Practicing even at this late hour…. To keep your promise….”

“Well, yes…”

“…”

The atmosphere grew awkward after my reply.

As we both hesitated, unsure of what to say, Nunim quickly broke the silence by asking about Qinggong.

“Ah, right! What part of Qinggong feels difficult to you?”

‘Nice quick thinking.’

I thought, impressed by Nunim’s quick recovery, and answered immediately.

“Oh, it’s just that keeping my Internal Energy in sync with my steps is really tough. If I miss even once, my steps get tangled up…”

“Ah, so Soryong is trying to step at regular intervals, is that right?”

“Isn’t that the way to do it?”

Thinking that maintaining consistent intervals of impact was key while running, I tried to apply that logic. However, Nunim shook her head and said.

“Since we’re human, it’s natural to make mistakes if you do it like that. For me, I think of a song. I follow the rhythm of the song, sometimes extending the steps, sometimes shortening them. There are moments when you need to take long strides and others when short ones are enough, right?”

‘Ah, I see. It’s just like how, in a rhythm game, you press the buttons according to the chart. You don’t force the chart to match the button timing.’

With Nunim’s advice, something clicked in my mind.

Without hesitation, I tried Qinggong again, this time matching it to a song that came to mind.

-Tap. Ta-tap. Tap. Ta-da-dak.

“Like this?”

After completing a lap around the training grounds, I returned to stand in front of Nunim. She nodded in approval and said.

“Yes, Soryong. You pick things up very quickly. Hmm… but…”

Though my Qinggong seemed flawless, Nunim trailed off with a somewhat dissatisfied expression at the end.

Confused, I tilted my head, prompting Nunim to speak in a voice that suggested she was puzzled by something.

“But what?”

“I mean… what kind of song were you thinking of? It felt, um… a little… playful, or should I say frivolous?”

Frivolous? Nunim thought my Qinggong looked a bit unrefined.

The truth was, I’d been matching my Qinggong to the rhythm of a club dance track that had popped into my head. That was probably why it felt off.

‘Wow, does she have a good sense of rhythm? She’s sharp as a ghost.’

I decided that this time, I’d try aligning my Qinggong with a more classical tune.

Just as I was about to put this idea into practice, I heard a sound nearby.

-Bzzzz, bzzzz.

It was the sound of Golden-Furred King Bees flapping their wings in their nest near the training grounds.

It was unusual since they should have been asleep at this late hour.

“Aaaaargh!”

Then, a piercing scream tore through the cold night air, followed by a commotion as the warning bells began ringing throughout the manor. The voices of guards shouting about an intruder echoed throughout the estate.

-Beep! Beep! Beep!

“Intruder! There’s an intruder near the training grounds!”

Nunim and I glanced at each other before immediately using Qinggong to dash toward the training grounds, where the Golden-Furred King Bees’ nest was located.

It seemed someone had broken into the manor.

‘If they get caught, it won’t end well for them. These thieves must have some serious guts to pull this off.’

***

If you find any errors or have suggestions, please feel free to provide feedback.

Thank you for reading!

[Author – 에르훗]

[Translator – bjgoofy]