Chapter 71
Chapter 71: Third-rate Martial Family Becomes the Best Under Heaven
Faint curls of steam drifted lazily above two porcelain teacups inside the Crouching Dragon Residence, the private sanctum reserved for the head of the Zhuge clan.
Raising his vessel, Zhuge Pae savored a quiet swallow before shattering the surrounding stillness.
“Seon.”
Sitting directly across the low table, Zhuge Seon directed his gaze toward his sire.
“Yes, Father.”
“That youth. He is extraordinary.”
“I share your view entirely. He commands attention, possessing the sort of rare brilliance that makes one yearn to guide and nurture him.”
A faint, content smile touched Zhuge Seon’s lips. Seeing his father look upon someone from the Baek Estate with genuine favor brought him immense relief, and the reason was obvious.
“You are well aware of how bitterly I opposed your decision when you entered a sworn fraternity with the master of an insignificant, third-rate martial clan.”
“…I remember it clearly, Father.”
Deeply moved by Baek Muryang’s unyielding righteousness and personal virtue, Zhuge Seon had disregarded the chasm separating their social standings to become his sworn younger brother. Yet for the designated heir of the illustrious Zhuge clan—a pillar standing tall among the Five Great Houses of the martial world—it was a reckless, unforgivable misstep.
“By binding yourself to him, you discarded the chance to forge a fraternal alliance with a peer of equal renown. Put plainly, you surrendered an avenue to elevate the prestige and wealth of our clan.”
“…I will not deny that our brotherhood lacks any foundation of mutual, practical advantage. Even knowing that, I harbor not a single shred of remorse.”
Zhuge Pae studied his descendant with a penetrating gaze. Unlike his own path, which had required cutting through an army of ambitious siblings in bitter contention, Zhuge Seon was an only child. He had never been forced to spill blood or wage political warfare to secure his standing as young lord. Because of that sheltered upbringing, his edges remained unsharpened and gentle, yet he possessed an expansive magnanimity capable of drawing exceptional souls toward him.
Every forfeiture yields its own compensation.
The clan under his son’s stewardship would inevitably diverge sharply from the one he governed today. That outcome was all but guaranteed. For the present, however, supreme authority rested entirely within Zhuge Pae’s grasp, and guiding the successor as both patriarch and parent remained his solemn obligation.
“Indeed. I find myself entertaining the thought that your venture might finally yield an unexpected windfall. Tell me plainly, Seon. Do you possess the resolve to seize that fortune firmly in your grasp?”
Though phrased like an enigmatic riddle, Zhuge Seon perceived the underlying intent at once.
“Fortune arrives upon its own winds. Should one clutch at it with excessive greed, it scatters between the fingers like dry sand.”
“Such may be true for blind luck, but tangible advantage is a harvest granted solely to hands bold enough to reap it.”
“Has that very harvest not already fallen into our embrace? We have successfully established an intimate tie with one of the Ten Paragons Under Heaven.”
Even an entity as revered as the Zhuge clan among the Five Great Houses had never successfully fostered one of the Ten Paragons Under Heaven. Each of those sovereign masters wielded might equivalent to an entire dominant lineage. Securing an authentic master-disciple bond between a direct scion of the Zhuge bloodline and the Wave-Piercing Sound Empress was a staggering diplomatic triumph.
Nevertheless, Zhuge Pae remained thoroughly unmoved.
“Such was merely the yield of casting a wide, casual net. Had you drawn the mesh tight, the prize would have proven infinitely richer.”
“Father.”
Zhuge Seon held his ground with quiet determination, choosing his words with deliberate care.
“I have no desire to consume the Baek Estate.”
“State your reasoning.”
“Permitting them to stand independently will ultimately yield far greater dividends for our house.”
Intrigue flickered across Zhuge Pae’s features. True to his moniker as the Peerless Dragon, Zhuge Seon possessed a resolute and unyielding spirit, yet he had maintained unwavering filial obedience before his sire. To hear him speak with such steady conviction naturally captured the elder’s fascination.
“Enlighten me.”
“A leader must distinguish between those who should be managed through worldly profit and those who must be treated with moral integrity.”
“The ignorant assume only merchants chase material gain, but reality proves otherwise. Every living soul maneuvers for their personal interests.”
“Even if self-interest guides their steps, that hardly implies cold transaction alone is capable of swaying their hearts.”
Stroking his beard in contemplation, Zhuge Pae partook of his cooling brew. The gesture was an unspoken affirmation.
“Very well. I shall neither meddle nor probe into the matter. Yanghwi represents a diamond in the rough that we dare not misplace. Do you hold absolute confidence?”
“Without question, Father. Just as Liu Bei sought out Kongming thrice with profound reverence, I shall bind the Baek house to our side through sheer sincerity and unassailable honor.”
Thus concluded the dialogue held between father and son within the quiet confines of the Crouching Dragon Residence.
“How in the world did this sword manual end up in this place?”
Greatest Sword Among Wanderers. An esteemed title signifying the undisputed master of the blade among all unaligned martial artists walking the realm.
In his previous lifetime, Yanghwi had seized that very crown only after wandering through the Jianghu for more than two decades. Naturally, that path had been fraught with arrogant challengers attempting to wrest the honor from him.
There is no mistaking it. This was the personal legacy of that wretched bastard, the Heavenly Seam Sword.
An arrogant practitioner resting at the apex realm who had incessantly harassed him, loudly proclaiming that the title rightfully belonged to him. During those turbulent years, Yanghwi had maintained absolute secrecy regarding his own ascension to the apex realm, but the Heavenly Seam Sword had pursued duels with such infuriating persistence that Yanghwi had been forced to thrash him into a bruised heap whenever their paths crossed.
[Seamless Sword Manual (無縫劍訣)]
The manual drew its identity from the classical idiom seamless (天衣無縫), illustrating how divine robes spun by celestial maidens bear not a single stitch or seam. It was the living definition of an art so organic that it remained entirely without flaw.
The text adhered faithfully to that sublime concept. It unraveled the profound principle of weaving sword trajectories together to manifest impenetrable planes of force, mirroring the precise convergence of warp and weft across a loom.
This truly is the foundational text he mastered.
Having scanned every character inscribed across the pages, Yanghwi harbored no remaining doubt. The Heavenly Seam Sword had burst into widespread notoriety approximately five years from the present day. When he considered that Hubei had served as the swordsman’s customary hunting grounds, every piece of the puzzle fell into order. Somehow, that insolent pest had acquired access to the Crane Feather Archives and transformed this precise manual into his core art.
The current depth of martial comprehension recorded here hovers only around the second-rate tier, but its conceptual framework is remarkably pristine and solid.
Placed in the hands of an authentic prodigy, such a foundation could effortlessly blossom into a premier first-rate technique—or ascend toward even loftier heights. The Heavenly Seam Sword, who had conquered the apex realm relying on this exact path in Yanghwi’s bygone era, stood as absolute confirmation.
What an extraordinary, unforeseen windfall.
Presently, the manual stood as a humble second-rate scroll, but Yanghwi possessed an intimate understanding of the devastating perfection it attained once pushed to its absolute limits. He had traded blows with that relentless nuisance far more times than his fingers could enumerate. With the pristine source material spread before him and its ultimate, apex-tier refinement etched vividly within his memories, an apex-level martial scripture had essentially tumbled directly into his hands.
“Bwahaha!”
A blessed man truly could stumble across a pebble and discover an ingot of pure gold beneath his feet. His sole intent had been to pocket a collection of ordinary second-rate scrolls to enrich his clan’s martial foundation. This was nothing short of miraculous fortune.
The Seamless Sword Manual is the quintessential art to bestow upon our core martial vanguard.
The task required him to weave his own apex-level comprehension back into this unrefined second-rate draft, but such an undertaking was practically child’s play for him. By the time his journey from the Zhuge clan carried him back to the gates of the Baek Estate, the raw grain would be thoroughly boiled into a rich feast.
That brings the final tally to one apex-level scripture and twenty distinct second-rate manuals.
He would need to request an emergency assembly of the senior elders the moment his feet crossed the family threshold. He could already envision the stunned stupor that would overtake their faces when he laid out his report. Wearing a broad, satisfied smirk, Yanghwi set about etching every single chosen volume into the depths of his memory.
“Hah! Hah!”
Across the wide expanse of the primary training grounds situated in the core of the Baek Estate.
Dozens of youths, their ages spanning from tender seven-year-olds to vigorous fifteen-year-olds, moved in synchronized harmony, their brows drenched in rolling sweat. Baek Muryang observed their rigorous drills, his gaze softened by a gentle, paternal warmth. These children represented the future pillars who would carry the burdens of the clan in the decades ahead—promising seeds meticulously vetted and welcomed into their midst.
Not long ago, witnessing a spectacle like this would have seemed like an unattainable, absurd fantasy.
Within the span of a single revolving year, their reality had shifted so drastically. The estate was primed to expand with relentless momentum and scale unprecedented summits.
The sole dilemma tormenting me is… we have exhausted everything we can impart to them beyond this threshold.
At this stage, the young disciples were systematically tempering their flesh and meridians through the Six Harmonies Art, the foundational conditioning method native to the Baek lineage. Several months had already slipped by, signaling that the hour had arrived for them to transition toward authentic, combat-ready martial arts. Yet the family cupboards remained utterly devoid of suitable material.
Transmitting the introductory forms of the Hundred and Eight Heaven-Splitting Swords remains a viable path, but…
It was far from an ideal resolution. Every youth possessed unique skeletal structures, differing temperaments, and distinct innate affinities; cramming each of them into a singular, unbending mold was an egregious mistake. A distinguished clan of true standing never suffered such indignities, as their vaults overflowed with diverse auxiliary techniques flanking their sacred ancestral legacies. This painful limitation had been gnawing mercilessly at Baek Muryang’s thoughts for days on end.
“Sigh. If only an avalanche of martial scriptures would tumble down straight from the heavens.”
“Cast aside your worries, Lord of the House. They shall drop squarely into your hands.”
The calm remark originated from Steward Han, standing respectfully upright by his master’s flank.
“Hm? Whatever do you mean by that assertion, Steward Han?”
“The young master will dismantle this predicament the instant his feet cross our gates.”
“And where does this boundless conviction come from?”
Steward Han offered an unshakeable, straightforward response.
“It is merely a deep intuition that events will unfold in precisely that manner.”
“…?”
“Has reality not constantly vindicated that expectation? Every single time he wanders beyond our domain, he inevitably returns bearing treasures of immense prosperity for our clan.”
Steward Han permitted himself a quiet chuckle before elaborating further.
“In the most splendid scenario, he will return trailing mountains of silver, purchase the manuals without batting an eye—and walk away with a handsome surplus to boot.”
Staring at the steward’s inexplicable and absolute devotion, Baek Muryang could only voice a dry retort.
“…Steward Han. Yanghwi departed solely to pursue martial seclusion and personal training, did he not?”
“Did he ever state an intention to amass wealth on any of the occasions he returned laden with gold?”
“……”
The man’s logic is infuriatingly sound.
Nodding in grudging concession, Baek Muryang suddenly snapped back to his senses.
Steward Han has developed a dreadful habit of spinning wild jests of late. Such expectations are entirely nonsensical.
A patriarch who leaned upon idle daydreams instead of actively carving out solutions was wholly unworthy of his station. Baek Muryang remained obligated to devise a realistic strategy to procure martial disciplines for the children. Just as his thoughts plunged into deep contemplation—
“Father! Your son has returned!”
Baek Muryang’s face illuminated with unbridled joy as he stepped forward to embrace his boy, whom he had not laid eyes upon for four grueling months.
“Yanghwi! You have returned safely! Hahaha, it feels like an eternity has passed! Look at your frame; you have grown remarkably sturdy!”
Chuckling while his father’s hand came down upon his shoulder in affectionate claps, Yanghwi gestured toward the perimeter.
“Uncle Zhuge lingers beyond the entrance. You must go out and properly receive him.”
“What? Brother Zhuge? What possible purpose could draw him all the way to our humble grounds?”
Noticing the sheer bewilderment freezing his father’s expression, Yanghwi’s grin broadened playfully.
“The tale is quite extensive. Father, I urge you to summon an assembly of the senior elders without delay.”
“……”
“……”
“……”
Within the main council chamber, where the revered elders of the Baek clan sat flanking Zhuge Seon, a profound, stunned hush settled across the gathering.
“……”
“…Do I comprehend your words correctly, Yanghwi… You are claiming that upon your visit to the Zhuge estate, you were granted entrance into their private archives as an honor, and you proceeded to commit twenty full martial compendiums to memory?”
“And every single one of those arts ranks at the second-rate tier or superior?”
Yanghwi offered an easy, untroubled nod.
“That is correct, Father.”
“……”
“……”
Heavens above.
The rascal truly dragged them back with him.
Baek Muryang fell into speechless awe once more, his eyes shifting involuntarily toward Steward Han, whose smug countenance radiated an unmistakable air of vindication.
Twenty distinct second-rate martial arts.
With this astonishing windfall, all anxieties concerning how to cultivate the diverse talents gathered within the clan evaporated into thin air. The agonizing migraine that had plagued Baek Muryang for endless weeks had dissolved into nothingness in an instant.
“You are… an absolute wonder, my boy.”
“I am unworthy of such generous praise, Father.”
“Even so… this situation presents a rather delicate dilemma.”
Baek Muryang shifted his gaze cautiously toward Zhuge Seon.
“I suspect your noble father unsealed the vaults under the assumption that you would emerge with two or perhaps three scrolls at best… Will this circumstance cause complications, Brother?”
Zhuge Seon’s face remained trapped in a state of sheer, lingering disbelief.
“I have long recognized the child’s astonishing intellect, but haha… I never foresaw that he would thoroughly strip the Crane Feather Archives bare, Brother.”
Observing Baek Muryang’s deeply apologetic countenance, Zhuge Seon casually swept his hand through the air to dismiss the concern.
“Do not burden your heart with unease. Our Crouching Dragon clan never retracts an oath once spoken. Furthermore, Yanghwi merely demonstrated peerless diligence with the gift bestowed upon him.”
“Your gracious understanding brings profound relief to my spirit, Brother.”
Clearing his throat to shift the atmosphere, Baek Muryang posed another inquiry.
“On that note, what particular business prompted your lengthy voyage here?”
“Ah. A minor domestic circumstance required my attention.”
The moment Zhuge Seon unfolded the amusing background behind Zhuge Seolha’s correspondence, Baek Muryang burst into booming, hearty laughter.
“You are utterly helpless when it comes to your precious daughter, Brother.”
“You are blessed with a beloved daughter yourself, so you surely comprehend the sentiment.”
“Indeed I do, without a doubt. Hahaha. Our Yeonyeon is the very picture of grace and charm.”
“My Seolha yields nothing to any maiden under heaven.”
The banter between the two sworn brothers threatened to escalate into a competitive bout of besotted fathers boasting of their daughters’ virtues.
“Father. An additional matter requires our collective deliberation.”
Recognizing that a crucial item remained on the docket, Yanghwi intervened to steer the room back toward serious affairs.
“Share your thoughts, Yanghwi.”
“Prior to setting out for my secluded cultivation, I entrusted Elder Yeo with a specific investigation.”
“An investigation?”
“Allow me to address that inquiry in detail,” Yeo Hyeok stated, rising smoothly from his seat to face Baek Muryang.
“Before all else, I must seek the Lord of the House’s forgiveness for failing to submit an earlier briefing, as tracing the necessary threads demanded considerable time.”
“Harbor no guilt over the delay, Elder. Pray, enlighten us.”
As Yeo Hyeok systematically unveiled the clandestine networks operating behind the Gyojin Gang, the ambient warmth in the hall froze into an oppressive, somber tension.
“The maneuvers demonstrated by the Gyojin Gang were exceedingly unnatural from the beginning.”
“A sound deduction. It was exceptionally prudent to dig beneath the surface. You have labored hard, Elder.”
“Elder, is there truly a shadowy patron orchestrating their actions?”
Yeo Hyeok responded with a heavy, solemn nod.
“Through acquiring and synthesizing varied streams of clandestine intelligence, we have secured irrefutable proof regarding the architect behind them.”
A hidden hand was indeed manipulating the Gyojin Gang from the dark.
“Who stands at the helm?”
Yeo Hyeok’s voice echoed through the silence.
“The entity supporting the Gyojin Gang from the shadows is…”
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