The Terminally Ill Young Master of the Baek Clan - Chapter 213: Shadowless Sword Pavilion, Seonwoo Hwi (3)

“Truly, that is a troublesome question.”

Yi-gang stared directly into Myung Won’s eyes as he appeared troubled.

It was as if he was daring to challenge the high-ranking Wudang Sect leader to a staring contest.

It could be seen as rude, but there was a clear determination to hear an answer.

Myung Won’s expression turned complex under that gaze.

“Please tell me.”

“Hmm… If I know anything.”

Did the sincerity come across?

Neung Ji-pyeong’s mouth slightly opened in anticipation. Could this finally reveal the past that tormented him?

However, as difficult as it was to speak, Myung Won continued to hesitate for a long time.

When Yi-gang’s eyes began to sting from staring too hard, he urged Myung Won once again.

“What you know…?”

“Hmm?”

Myung Won briefly twisted his eyebrows. Yi-gang looked puzzled.

“Cough, ah, yes… If I know something, I would tell you.”

“Yes?”

Myung Won wore a deeply troubled expression.

He too was aware of the bad blood between the Shadowless Sword Pavilion and the Wudang Sect.

But…

“I also don’t know much. At that time, I was merely a first-generation disciple and moreover, I was roaming Jianghu under the orders of my sect…”

“Ah…”

Neung Ji-pyeong finally let out a deep sigh. It seemed like he had almost grasped the secret, but it scattered into thin air.

Was it a disappointment he had anticipated?

Myung Won added, “However, the previous sect leader surely knows.”

“Are you speaking of Sage Jang Hyun? That Sage Jang Hyun known as the Immortal of Emptiness?”

Yi-gang’s eyes widened.

If it’s the former sect leader, then he’s a master of the Sword Emperor. Known by the nickname the Immortal of Emptiness, a martial master from the previous generation.

“He should be at the Council of Elders, so I’ll send a message now.”

“Thank you!”

Myung Won told them to wait a moment and went to find Sage Jang Hyun himself.

Yi-gang and Neung Ji-pyeong waited for Myung Won with great anticipation.

Neung Ji-pyeong spoke in a moved voice.

“It’s all thanks to you, Young Master.”

“I merely asked, so please don’t worry about it too much.”

However, Neung Ji-pyeong’s bittersweet joy did not last long.

An aged Taoist, looking utterly confused, was brought to Myung Won.

He was Sage Jang Hyun, the former sect leader.

“… Well, I don’t really know either.”

“Sorry?”

Neung Ji-pyeong’s lips formed a straight line. He tried to calm himself, but he couldn’t suppress his heavy breathing.

“I don’t know much either. Well, I only saw Seonwoo Hwi once.”

“How could even the Sage not know?”

Myung Won also looked flustered. It must have been a big deal if it involved stealing secret scriptures; the sect leader should have known.

“Well, it wasn’t me who caught them, nor was it a matter I handled, so that’s why.”

“Then who might know…”

Jang Hyun frowned with his white eyebrows and then replied, “My master.”

“Could it be… Senior Elder Su Ryong-ja?”

Myung Won’s mouth opened slightly in surprise.

Su Ryong-ja was a master from two generations ago. He was also the master of Jang Hyun and the Sword Emperor.

“Yes, one night when I was working here at Purple Mist Hall, the master came in carrying a young man who had his acupoints struck.”

“So then…”

“That man was called Seonwoo Hwi, known as the ‘Shadowless Thief.’ The master told me he had caught a thief and would take him away.”

Unable to hold back, Neung Ji-pyeong interjected, “Senior, what exactly did Seonwoo Hwi steal?”

“Well…”

Jang Hyun shook his head.

“I don’t know either. The only person who knew about it has now passed away—my master.”

Whether reminiscing about his deceased master, his eyes had grown distant.

Neung Ji-pyeong cried out vehemently, “If you don’t even know what the item was… why did the Shadowless Sword Pavilion end up like this!”

“Huh?”

“Didn’t the Wudang strip the Shadowless Sword Pavilion of its Murim Alliance membership?”

There was a tone of indignation in Neung Ji-pyeong’s voice.

Instead of getting angry at his younger junior’s impetuosity, Jang Hyun wore a look of pity.

“The Wudang doesn’t operate in that manner. That was a misunderstanding.”

“Then… the Sword Pavilion…”

Neung Ji-pyeong’s clenched fist trembled violently.

“Why was the Shadowless Sword Pavilion annihilated!”

“Alas, O Supreme Xianwu…”

No answer could be heard.

A solemn silence lingered for a long time.

Neung Ji-pyeong tightly shut his eyes.

His fingernails scraped the hard wooden floor.

It was purely an expression of emotion, not a martial technique, so his nails broke and blood flowed.

An endless sense of despair.

The intensity of the emotion was startling even to Neung Ji-pyeong himself.

The past he thought had faded and forgotten remained in his subconscious, now resurfaced in the form of bleeding wounds.

Thanks to Yi-gang, that long-standing wound had been reopened.

But the wound could not be healed. Exposed to the blazing sun and the salty air, his inner pain was that intense.

“…I-I was dreaming a vain dream.”

“…”

“Now, any way to know the true story has disappeared.”

The only person who knew the truth was a master from two generations ago.

“If he were alive, he would have long surpassed a hundred years, so even coming late, it was much too late.”

According to the Wudang, he had been dead for a long time.

“Hmm, it’s not completely gone though.”

But Jang Hyun said so.

“Is there anyone else who knows the inside story… Ah, perhaps in the Murim Alliance…?”

“No, asking the Master would resolve it.”

At that moment, Yi-gang was startled.

Could it be that the spirit of Su Ryong-ja was somewhere around here?

If so, Yi-gang could take care of it; he concentrated his eyes and looked around.

However, Jang Hyun explained somewhat awkwardly, “He has left, not passed away. He’s in seclusion.”

“What? He’s still alive?”

“Yes…?”

The loathsome hope returned to Neung Ji-pyeong’s face.

“But the problem is how to summon the Master…”

Upon hearing the method, Yi-gang and Neung Ji-pyeong were dumbfounded.

In the past, Yi-gang’s master, Yu Jeong-shin, had told him something.

“Have you ever heard of the ‘Ten Grandmasters’ or the ‘One Hundred Great Swordsmen’ or anything like that?”

“Yes, I have heard of it.”

The Forest Lord of the Azure Forest was also ranked among the top of those Ten Grandmasters. The Sword Emperor of Wudang and the Divine Monk of Shaolin were the same.

The concept of the ‘Ten Grandmasters’ was fabricated by enthusiasts, but it was surprisingly accurate according to most martial artists, enough that they would nod in agreement.

“It’s all vain. Take it as fun and don’t take it seriously.”

“Is it incorrect?”

“Absolutely flawed.”

But Yu Jeong-shin firmly denied it.

Instead of explaining the reason right away, he threw another question.

“Where do you think the power of a major sect lies?”

Yi-gang pondered for a moment. It was a question that could yield several answers.

The profundity of the main martial arts, the number of sect members, significant financial resources, a web-like network of alliances, and human resources spread out in the form of secular disciples.

All could be the answers, but Yi-gang chose a different one.

“History and tradition.”

Yu Jeong-shin barely managed to keep his mouth from gaping open.

That’s how satisfying Yi-gang’s answer was. However, to maintain the role of a strict master, he forcibly stiffened his expression.

“You are half right.”

“My talent was lacking.”

“Haha, why only half right, you ask? It’s correct, but it’s too general.”

“So then…”

“Based on tradition, the sect members accumulated over many years are the greatest asset of a major sect.”

This could have been summarized more simply.

“What is the dharma name of the abbot of Shaolin?”

“Jeong Gak.”

“And above him? What dharma name does he use?”

“The Mu line name.”

“Now that the abbot of Shaolin has reached the age for Nirvana, the Mu line will soon become a monk of the previous generation. In that case… how many monks named Mu are still alive?”

Yi-gang pondered for a moment.

The number he came up with could barely be counted on both hands, but Yu Jeong-shin said something completely different, “At least fifty are still alive.”

“…!”

If the surviving Mu line masters are at least Supreme Peak masters, could there also be Absolute masters?

How many then?

“Gal Sa-hyeok, ranked at the bottom of the ‘Ten Grandmasters’ and still residing in the realm of Supreme Peak, exemplifies how meaningless the term ‘Ten Grandmasters’ really is.”

“I understand.”

The Sword Emperor, the Divine Monk, and the Forest Lord of the Azure Forest were certainly among the top masters in the martial world.

But below them, differentiating rankings becomes meaningless.

There are countless other masters that cannot be quantified.

Yi-gang suddenly became curious.

“Then… What about the Azure Forest?”

“Hmm?”

“There are also masters in seclusion in the Azure Forest, of the same generation as the Forest Lord, right?”

The generation of the Forest Lord was higher than even the Shaolin or Wudang leaders.

Then, how profound was the strength of the Azure Forest?

Yu Jeong-shin only responded with a faint smile to that question.

That day, Yi-gang did not receive an answer.

The concept of a major sect has never excluded Wudang.

The depth of Wudang’s strength was also greater than known.

The masters from the previous generation, like the Sword Emperor and the Immortal of Emptiness’s master, lived long enough.

“How old is he?”

“About 120 years old.”

“He has lived a long life.”

Yi-gang was also surprised.

The reason the Baek Noble Clan’s Immortal Divine Art was sought after even by the Imperial palace, dominating the martial world, was because it was extraordinary.

Even becoming an Absolute master, living past 100 required inherent health and luck.

It’s said that Taoist sects practicing the orthodox cultivation technique tended to live long, but it was still astonishing.

“He’s still quite vigorous. About a year ago, we had to bring the Master here because of Jang Gyeong’s illness. He should still be in good health.”

“That’s very fortunate!”

The problem was how to summon Su Ryong-ja.

He was said to be in seclusion somewhere in the vast Wudang Mountains.

There were two ways of seclusion: one was living in a humble hut and the other was hiding away completely, and Su Ryong-ja chose the latter.

The 120-year-old elder lived like a complete hermit.

“It’s an unwritten rule to consider a secluded previous generation master as an outsider.”

“That means…”

“Not to call him. That’s the principle. Especially since the Master was very angry when we called him because of Jang Gyeong’s matter.”

The secluded masters truly wouldn’t return unless Wudang faced a threat of annihilation.

While that meant that the venerable old masters would rush back with their beards flying in the air if Wudang was in such danger, it suggested that it’s difficult to call them just to inquire about the past.

But then Myung Won added a comment, “This is a matter involving our Wudang. It was an act directly carried out by the Senior Elder Su Ryong-ja, so it would be his karma.”

“We are not monks to discuss karma, but…”

Seeing Neung Ji-pyeong’s earnest face, Jang Hyun nodded.

“Since it was an act committed by the Master, it seems right. Proceed as the sect leader wishes.”

Permission was granted.

“This is the drum that can be used to summon the venerable elders secluded here in Wudang.”

The place they found was none other than South Rock Palace.

It could be considered the boundary of the Wudang Sect, and below that peak, a vast forested area stretched out.

And on a pavilion overlooking the Wudang Mountain area, there was a large drum.

“Striking this drum five times signals that it’s a situation requiring urgent assembly of the masters.”

Could the sound of the drum, no matter how large, really reach the ears of the secluded masters from this mountain peak?

Even if the masters’ senses transcended those of ordinary people, there were limits.

But Sage Jang Hyun wouldn’t be making a joke about such a matter.

“Would you like to try striking it?”

He looked at Yi-gang with a playful expression on his face.

Myung Won wore a bitter and apologetic expression.

Since he had not received the drumstick, Yi-gang cautiously approached and struck the drum.

Thud—

Yi-gang’s expression hardened.

It wasn’t a deep ‘doong’ nor a hollow ‘tung.’ It was just a dull sound that briefly emerged and dispersed.

Upon closer inspection of the large drum, it was clear that it had lost its function as a drum.

There were large holes bored through its body.

“Is it originally… supposed to be like this?”

“A normal drum cannot carry sound far. This is a divine instrument of Wudang, called the Heavenly Echo Drum, used for a very long time. When struck with a special drumstick, its sound can spread over a hundred li.”

It was clear that the drum was not merely old junk.

There was a strange spiritual energy flowing through it.

“Then, we just need that drumstick to play it.”

“That’s the difficult part.”

Myung Won sighed deeply.

“When Senior Elder Su Ryong-ja visited here, he took the drumstick away in anger.”

“What…?”

“He was trying to destroy the Heavenly Echo Drum, telling us to stop calling so annoyingly… but we barely managed to stop him, though he took the only drumstick with him.”

Yi-gang gaped in astonishment.

Isn’t it just like a Taoist to have such an eccentric personality? To try to destroy a sacred object of the sect and hide the drumstick.

“Then, in the event of a crisis of annihilation…”

“Cough, if Purple Mist Palace burns, then you’ll see it, and he’ll probably rush over… Cough!”

“…”

At the moment Yi-gang lost for words, Zhang Sanfeng burst into hearty laughter.

「Hahahaha! There was another who did the same as me!」

Yi-gang turned to look at him.