Chapter v12c10: The Demon of a Century Past

**The Demon of a Century Past**

At the edge of a vast, white sea of clouds, where the horizon met the sky, a dozen peaks pierced through the clouds like black spears. From a vantage point overlooking this breathtaking scene, two figures, one old and one young, cast their fishing lines as if in competition.

Their presence, as if frozen in time, melting into the flow of moments, blending seamlessly with nature, was strangely natural amidst this grand and mystical landscape. It was as if they belonged there, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Neither the old man nor the young boy cared how much time had passed as they fished. Their attention was solely focused on the tips of their fishing rods. But it seemed their efforts were in vain.

The golden sun, submerged in the eastern sea of clouds, slowly ascended, reaching its zenith. Their shadows shortened to their smallest point of the day. Yet, their fishing rods remained silent, like criminals refusing to speak.

But the old man and the young boy hadn’t given up hope.

“…Disciple!”

The old man called out to the boy in a dry voice, his gaze fixed on the tip of his bamboo rod. What was the point of casting a fishing line, an object designed for use in water, into a sea of clouds? Yet, these two figures didn’t seem to consider their actions futile or meaningless. They were genuinely expecting a catch, a reward for their efforts.

“Yes?”

Bi Ryu-yeon replied in a flat, emotionless voice. It was a voice filled with a weariness that seemed out of place for a boy his age.

“Any bites?”

“…Not really!”

“…Is that so?”

“…”

Their emotionless conversation ended in a long silence, punctuated by stillness. The fish weren’t biting today.

“teacher!”

This time, the boy called out to the old man.

“It’s ‘Master’!”

The old man emphasized just one word, as if nothing else mattered.

The east wind, blowing across the clouds, stirred the silver-white sea, creating rapids and occasional whirlpools. The clouds flowed, painting countless forms in the wind.

“Haaaawm! It seems Master’s claim of being a master angler has been proven false today.”

Bi Ryu-yeon said with a bored voice, accompanied by a grand yawn.

“The fish aren’t biting today. That’s all.”

The old man quickly added, seeing his disciple’s lack of enthusiasm.

“Jiang Ziya didn’t become a legendary angler because he caught a lot of fish. His catch was so meager that it would have been mocked by other fishermen. But he caught the entire kingdom! From now on, call me Master Jiang Ziya.”

He tried to defend himself, unable to accept his disciple’s indifference.

“It seems all the Jiang Ziyas in the world have died. To think it would come down to you, Master!”

His disciple’s response was utterly cold. The old man felt a pang of sadness, realizing how heartless his disciple was. And that disrespectful tone…

“Catching fish is not the only way of fishing. The way of the angler lies in casting a line, befriending nature, and fishing for life and time itself.”

The old man’s passionate speech continued.

“That is what romance is all about. Romance! A feeling that young whippersnappers can’t easily grasp. Haven’t you heard the golden rule of fishing, ‘Wait and wait again! And you shall catch’?”

The old man spoke sternly, but his disciple showed no sign of listening.

“That’s a rather grand excuse for an empty hook. To think you would even invent a proverb. Just give up already.”

The old man’s thick white eyebrows twitched at Bi Ryu-yeon’s indifferent response.

“Oh, you impatient brat! Haven’t I told you this is all part of your training?”

“That training theory again?”

His disciple’s reaction was apathetic.

“Of course, you fool! As I’ve said countless times, cloud fishing requires many skills. What are we trying to catch here?”

“Obviously… fish!”

Slap!

Divine punishment!

“Birds, you idiot! What kind of crazy fish would live on top of this mountain?”

“Ouch! That was a sophisticated joke.”

Bi Ryu-yeon grumbled, clutching his forehead.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you? I sense a rebellious spirit growing within you, disciple!”

“Oh, that’s just your imagination. Imagination!”

Bi Ryu-yeon quickly waved his hand dismissively, feeling a pang of guilt. Once again, he experienced the sharpness of his master’s animalistic intuition.

“…And the creatures that reach such heights are no ordinary birds. Only birds of prey, like hawks and eagles, with strong wings capable of soaring above the clouds can do so. And they’re not only fierce and powerful, but also fast.”

The old man’s passionate lecture continued without pause.

“Therefore, to succeed in fishing, you need sharp eyes that can see through the clouds. You need to be able to locate your target. If you think a hawk will just swoop down and snatch a worm dangling from a line cast into the clouds, you’re sorely mistaken. That will never happen. Secondly…”

The old man paused, his throat parched from his fervent speech, and took a swig from his gourd. Bi Ryu-yeon watched, licking his lips, but it seemed his turn wouldn’t come.

“Secondly, you need to be able to manipulate the fishing line with your Qi skillfully. The higher the altitude, the stronger the wind. And the winged fish we’re trying to catch are fast enough to cut through the wind. You need to move the line at a speed that matches theirs and bind them in an instant. It’s an essential skill for mastering the Flying Thunder Saber. And yet, you want to give up on this sacred fishing just because you haven’t caught anything yet?”

It was a powerful speech, filled with the energy of a volcano. But Bi Ryu-yeon’s heart remained unmoved.

‘Can this really be that helpful? It just seems like a personal hobby…’

Doubts and suspicions, sprouting from the seeds of disbelief, grew deeper, but he decided to keep his true feelings to himself. A wise approach was needed in times like this.

“But we’ve been sitting here for half a day already. Are you trying to catch a phoenix with all this wasted time?”

“Well, that’s not a bad plan either.”

The old man tilted his head, replying with a hint of interest.

“It would be expensive if we caught one, right?”

“Very expensive!”

He emphasized his words.

“Hmm…”

The scary thing about his master was that he took jokes seriously. Bi Ryu-yeon felt a mix of emotions as he realized he was becoming more and more like his master.

“What do phoenixes like?”

Suddenly, the conversation became more concrete.

“I vaguely remember hearing somewhere that they have a preference for white horses.”

“Wasn’t that dragons?”

The old man corrected his disciple’s misinformation about bait.

“Was it? Well, I guess so.”

“An old saying goes that to catch a dragon, you need a white horse as bait. So, to catch a phoenix, should we use a white tiger as bait?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never caught one. It’s not even in the fishing manuals. Besides, aren’t white tigers and phoenixes friends, both being part of the Four Guardian Deities? Even with a phoenix’s voracious appetite, would it really eat its friend?”

“Ugh!”

The old man looked momentarily embarrassed. But he quickly recovered.

“So, you’re saying you don’t know?”

“I don’t.”

“Tsk, tsk, to think you don’t even know that. What have you been seeing and learning all this time?”

In cases like this, it was usually stranger to know the answer. Yet, the old man was absurdly scolding his disciple. He was truly a remarkable master.

“Of course, I’ve only seen what Master has shown me and learned what Master has taught me. It would be disrespectful for a disciple to know something that his master doesn’t. You should consider yourself incredibly fortunate to have such an excellent and respectful disciple like me.”

Bi Ryu-yeon wouldn’t back down. What a fine example of a disciple’s attitude! They were truly a heartwarmingly (?) harmonious master-disciple duo.

“Oh, I’ve brought upon myself a calamity of the ages!”

The old man sighed deeply, looking up at the sky. Bi Ryu-yeon ignored him.

A moment later, they were back to normal, as if nothing had happened. The bickering between master and disciple had vanished from their minds. It was strange, but it seemed to be a part of their daily routine. The two figures, master and disciple, old and young, resumed their waiting, their gazes fixed on the tips of their fishing rods.

Who was it that said fishing and life were an endless series of patience…?

“Tea-cher!”

The disciple called out to his master.

“What is it? Dis-ci-ple? You always forget the respectful ‘Master’. That’s not a good habit. It makes this kind and gentle master want to punish you.”

The old man turned to his disciple and reprimanded him. But he didn’t seem to expect him to change his ways. It was a wise judgment. The old man’s eyebrows and beard were as white as snow, and his bright, clear eyes, shining beneath those bushy eyebrows, made it difficult to guess his age. Bi Ryu-yeon often felt that his master was a very different being from the people of this world.

“Tell me some old stories. Like tales of your heroic deeds.”

Bi Ryu-yeon said in a rare, endearing voice. After reading The Art of War, which his master had casually tossed to him at the age of twelve, he realized he had been doing things all wrong. He needed to change his approach.

As the saying went, “Know your enemy and know yourself, and you will not be imperiled in a hundred battles.” Only by knowing both himself and his enemy could he gain an advantage in battle and avoid danger. Of course, it was obvious that his chances of victory would also increase.

If this proverb was true, he was currently at a severe disadvantage. His master knew all his habits and weaknesses, while he knew next to nothing about his master. This wouldn’t do.

From that day on, Bi Ryu-yeon had resolved to learn everything he could about his master, believing it was not too late.

“Why do you want to know? It’s not a good habit to be curious about other people’s past.”

The old man said in a gentle, admonishing voice.

“Just think of it as your disciple’s earnest desire to hear about your great footsteps, Master!”

Suddenly, his conscience pricked him like a needle. But Bi Ryu-yeon gritted his teeth and endured the pain.

“Is that so?”

The old man’s voice rose in delight.

‘I’ve become quite corrupted by worldly desires,’ Bi Ryu-yeon sighed inwardly. But he had to learn to bend when necessary! Strength wasn’t everything. The story of Goujian, the King of Yue, who slept on firewood and tasted gall, wasn’t just a random tale. And there was also the saying, “After bitterness comes sweetness.”

Only by mastering both strength and flexibility could one survive and achieve victory on the battlefield of life. Moreover, it was an eternal truth that victory always came with pain.

“Tell me some stories from the martial world. Secrecy is like poison to a sunny and open master-disciple relationship. It’s not something to be encouraged. So, what kind of existence were you in the past, Master?”

“Hmm, the past…”

The old man suddenly turned his head and looked towards the western sky. The sky was high and blue, and the clouds were drifting westward, carried by the east wind. Bi Ryu-yeon shuddered as he felt his master’s gaze reaching beyond the present, to a distant place. Even though his master was right beside him, clearly visible, it felt like only his shell remained, his spirit sailing to a faraway land. What was his master looking at? Bi Ryu-yeon, not being privy to his thoughts, couldn’t know.

But the old man didn’t dwell on the past for long. He soon returned to the present.

“I’ve forgotten!”

The old man replied with an uncharacteristically serious expression, like a sage. Sometimes, when he wore that serious look, he did resemble a wise man, but Bi Ryu-yeon quickly dismissed it as an optical illusion and ignored it. It was his firm belief that such a thing was impossible.

“What?”

Bi Ryu-yeon asked incredulously.

“I’ve forgotten. I can’t remember. It was so long ago… It’s too distant to even try to recall… I’ve already forgotten who I am.”

For a moment, Bi Ryu-yeon felt his mind go blank. He had never imagined he would hear such an answer. He stumbled but managed to stay on his feet. His hopes for a grand tale of heroic deeds were shattered.

‘Could it be senile dementia?’

Bi Ryu-yeon thought to himself, trying hard to conceal his thoughts. If his master were to read his mind, he knew he would be subjected to a barrage of attacks from Baek Yeom (also known as Baek-a!), who would scold him like a runaway horse.

Every time he saw that beard, Bi Ryu-yeon felt a strong urge to chop it off. The long, flowing silver beard was impressive, but the problem was that it wasn’t just for show; it was also a tool for suppressing his poor, pitiful disciple.

Bi Ryu-yeon squinted, observing his master’s expression. Concealing his presence and reading his master’s mood were his top priorities. However, his master was lost in his forgotten past, paying no attention to his beloved disciple. His eyes seemed to be gazing at a distant, fading image of the past.

“But still, how can you just dismiss it with a simple ‘I’ve forgotten’? Try to remember at least one thing. You can’t have forgotten everything, can you? Think about your disciple, eagerly waiting to hear about your heroic deeds!”

Although Bi Ryu-yeon’s mouth was spewing passionate words, his heartbeat, which he claimed was pounding with excitement, remained coldly steady. However, his curiosity was piqued. The more his master seemed reluctant to tell him, the more curious he became.

“Hmm, the past… the past…”

The old man muttered, as if struggling to recall words he hadn’t used in a long time. He remained silent for a while, lost in thought, as if retrieving a dusty old album from the depths of his memory. Of course, Bi Ryu-yeon already had many doubts about the reliability of his master’s memory and the current state of his record-keeping. After a long silence, Bi Ryu-yeon couldn’t hold back any longer and asked,

“Do you remember anything now?”

The old man shook his head.

“I still can’t remember!”

It seemed his search through his memory had been unsuccessful. Or perhaps he was hiding something… His master’s past was shrouded in layers of secrecy, and he had never been allowed a glimpse inside. He felt a sense of unease at the thought.

Bi Ryu-yeon exclaimed in frustration,

“How is that possible? Are you suffering from amnesia?”

“Is there a law against me having amnesia?”

“Why don’t you say you’ve forgotten how to eat? That would be more believable.”

“Oh! You insolent brat! You’re determined to make your master look like a senile old fool! If I don’t remember, I don’t remember. What more needs to be said? A master is like the heavens, and his words are the will of heaven. Understand?”

Bi Ryu-yeon had no choice but to back down in the face of his master’s domineering attitude. He knew he couldn’t win against him yet. He wasn’t foolish enough to act on his anger and frustration, knowing it would only lead to losses and repercussions.

He shifted his strategy from confrontation to appeasement. His voice softened, changing from the harsh north wind of winter to the gentle breeze of spring.

“Master, you must have lived as a martial artist in the past, right?”

“The martial world? Yes, there was such a thing a long time ago. It probably still exists.”

“It does.”

Bi Ryu-yeon replied shortly and firmly.

“But, Ryu-yeon…”

“Yes?”

The old man’s gaze drifted to the distant past. He spoke in a kind voice,

“Those things are meaningless to me now. I may have lived for too long. The past holds no meaning for me anymore… and it can no longer influence me. Only the present matters to me now.”

“For example, what kind of wine we’ll be drinking tonight?”

The old man smiled at him.

“Exactly. You’ve become quite clever. You can even read your master’s mind now? Have you finally grown up? They say it’s almost impossible for a child to understand their parent’s heart…”

It was a rare compliment.

“It’s not that grand. It’s just basic common sense. I have to be exceptionally smart to encounter something I don’t know. Unfortunately, I’m so smart that I rarely come across anything I don’t know!”

Bi Ryu-yeon nodded, seemingly impressed with himself. His master couldn’t help but be amused by the boy’s shamelessness.

“You arrogant brat! You’re three hundred years too early to be saying that.”

The old man said dismissively.

(TLN: honestly the author was just stalling this chapter)