Chapter v18c6

Bi Ryu-Yeon had no intention of drawing out the process between thought and action. It was too inefficient. So, he immediately sought out Ma Jin-Ga, the Head of Cheonmu Academy. Despite his busy schedule, Ma Jin-Ga granted him an audience. After all, Bi Ryu-Yeon was officially the champion of the recent Hwasan Convention, even though its conclusion had been rather inglorious. Due to time constraints, a private meeting was impossible, but Bi Ryu-Yeon didn’t mind. He was unfazed by the presence of others.

“Why do you wish to decline, Bi Ryu-Yeon?”

Ma Jin-Ga, after hearing his request, briefly clutched his head as if struck by a sudden headache, before regaining his composure and asking.

“It’s a great honor to serve as an examiner for Cheonmu Academy. No one has ever refused this duty before, not in the past hundred years, and certainly not this year.”

His tone implied that it was odd for Bi Ryu-Yeon to decline when everyone else willingly accepted it, almost as if he was suggesting that refusing was an act of sacrilege (and to be fair, it probably was, according to the majority). However, the problem was that Bi Ryu-Yeon vehemently disagreed, and had no intention of changing his mind.

“It simply holds no value in my world. That is all.”

He was implying that it didn’t matter if others saw it as an honor or a privilege. If he didn’t value it, then it was meaningless. There was no reason why everyone had to agree on everything. What was beneficial to him wasn’t necessarily beneficial to others. Why were people so stuck in the same thought patterns? Bi Ryu-Yeon found it incredibly frustrating.

“Is there another reason?”

Ma Jin-Ga inquired.

“I dislike both being someone else’s tool and being arbitrarily tested.”

“A tool? What do you mean? That’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?”

“Is it, really?”

“Of, of course it is.”

Ma Jin-Ga replied, coughing nervously. It seemed he had a guilty conscience.

“Are there any other reasons?”

Ma Jin-Ga asked, hoping to change the subject.

“I dislike seeking meaningless answers. Or rather, collecting them.”

“What do you mean ‘meaningless answers’? This is about selecting talented individuals who will benefit the martial world. It’s a very important task. How can you dismiss it so easily?”

“Because it’s not my question.”

“That’s a rather short answer. I don’t quite understand. Could you elaborate? Just because you’ve reached a conclusion doesn’t mean others will automatically understand your reasoning.”

“I wouldn’t want to bore you. And it’s troublesome.”

“It’s alright to be bored sometimes. Life can’t always be exciting, right? But don’t worry, if you get bored, you can always take a nap and wake up when it’s almost over. But if I am interested in what you have to say, you won’t have time to be bored, will you?”

“But your interest is your own prerogative. You can’t force someone to be interested in something. The chances of success are slim. It’s pointless, unrewarding, and I have no interest in doing it. It’s not profitable either.”

“That’s a valid point. I see your logic.”

“I could try to persuade you, but I don’t want to waste my precious time on that. It’s a futile and troublesome endeavor.”

“Actually, I’m finding this quite interesting. I’m ready to listen, so go ahead. I’m ready to fight boredom. So tell me, what does ‘questioning’ mean to you?”

“Well, this won’t be fun, but…” Bi Ryu-Yeon said before starting his explanation.

“A question is a way of engaging with the world. You can’t get an answer without asking a question. If you want to see something, you have to ask the right questions. The ‘Ascending Martial Arts Competition,’ the entrance exam, is also a form of questioning. It’s a way of selecting those who can answer that specific question.”

“Indeed.”

They couldn’t just accept anyone and everyone. They needed someone who could provide the answers they were seeking. And they were looking for potential.

“And that’s the problem. I disagree with that question.”

“So you’re saying the current method is incapable of selecting the right people?”

“Well, they might find someone suitable. There’s a lot of variables. Even a hidden gem like myself got selected, right? Cheonmu Academy is quite fortunate in that regard.”

He continued shamelessly praising himself, his expression unchanging. And to be accurate, he hadn’t been “selected,” he had forced his way in.

“A-hem! I won’t argue about that.”

Ma Jin-Ga said politely.

“To put it simply, it’s inefficient. Very, very, very! Extremely, extremely, extremely!”

Bi Ryu-Yeon expressed his opinion without hesitation. There was no need to be intimidated.

“There’s no need to be so dramatic…”

“What’s the point of seeking an answer to a question I don’t even care about? What’s the point of seeking meaningless answers? Especially for free!”

“Hmm…”

He had said a lot, but ultimately, his message was clear: he had no interest in doing something he considered pointless. Especially for free. But that put him in a difficult position.

“Then how can we secure your participation?”

Ma Jin-Ga asked.

A faint smile appeared on Bi Ryu-Yeon’s lips. Leading someone to ask the question he wanted was a challenging task, but once they did, it became much easier to steer them towards the desired outcome. What he said next was completely unexpected.

“There’s a saying in Zhuangzi’s ‘Discussion on Making All Things Equal’: ‘The heavens are round, and the earth is square.'”

A circle symbolized infinity, while a square symbolized finiteness. So the deeper meaning was that the heavens were boundless, and the earth was limited. However, this metaphysical discussion was irrelevant to Bi Ryu-Yeon’s current goal. What he sought was something entirely mundane, physical, and materialistic.

“Following the footsteps of the ancient sages, I, too, love heaven and earth.”

“…?”

While the other masters were still confused – proving once again that mere words were insufficient for communication – Ma Jin-Ga, however, understood.

“Very well. How much do you desire?”

“As the saying goes, ‘Heaven is eternal, earth everlasting.’”

It was a saying from Lao Tzu’s Tao Te Ching, which literally meant that heaven was long, and the earth was old. In simpler terms, both heaven and earth were incredibly and infinitely long-lasting.

“Understood. I’ll make the necessary arrangements. So, do we have a deal?”

“Of course. Thank you for your patronage.”

Having achieved his objective, Bi Ryu-Yeon bowed lightly, turned, and left the conference room.

A while later…

The other masters, still baffled and unable to decipher the exchange, finally spoke up, despite their embarrassment.

“Um… Headmaster?”

“Yes? How can I help you?”

“I… I’m not sure I understand the recent exchange. Could you please explain?”

“What? You don’t understand?”

Ma Jin-Ga was surprised.

“Yes, not at all.”

From Ma Jin-Ga’s perspective, it was strange that they didn’t understand something so simple, but it seemed that, from their perspective, understanding it was even more peculiar.

“‘The heavens are round, and the earth is square.’ He wants something that embodies the shape of heaven and earth. Like this.”

Ma Jin-Ga demonstrated, joining his thumb and index finger to form a circle, creating an ancient and meaningful hand gesture. The masters finally understood, enlightened by the explicit symbolism.

“Ah, I see! And then, ‘Heaven is eternal, earth everlasting’…”

Ma Jin-Ga sighed, pitying himself for having to work with such clueless individuals.

‘You should know that much…’

He sighed again and said,

“The more, the better.”

“Ah!”

It seemed they finally understood.

“But why didn’t you tell us about the new rules? That it won’t be following the traditional format?”

“Do you think he would have participated if I had told you? He would have just demanded even more.”

“That’s true.”

“That’s why I only informed the applicants, not the examiners. And besides…”

“Besides?”

“It’s more entertaining this way. It’s no fun if you know everything in advance. I’m curious to see how they’ll react.”

“I see… profound.”

The masters nodded in agreement. Old age brought boredom, and anything that could alleviate that boredom was highly valued.

“I wonder if they realize … that the test has already begun.”

Ma Jin-Ga murmured, looking at the door Bi Ryu-Yeon had exited.

* * *

A Night of Crimson Flames

– The Disaster at Blue Dragon Manor

Whoooosh!

Crimson flames devoured the darkness, spitting out searing heat, as if defying the night sky, where even the moon dared not appear. The darkness surrendered, fading to a dull gray, and the manor complex crumbled under the fiery onslaught, transforming into black ash that danced in the heat. The price of illuminating the darkness was black charcoal, black ash, and death.

“Damn it! How did they find this place?”

A groan of despair escaped Yoo Jae-Ryong, the Master of Blue Dragon Manor. His sword, weathered from numerous battles, was already stained red with the blood of a dozen assailants. But he was outnumbered, overwhelmed. He had two precious lives to protect. The distance between the outer and inner courtyards was barely ten zhang, yet every step was a desperate gamble. Dozens of his men had already lost their lives, buying him time to escape.

It was a struggle to reach the Azure Dragon Hall, the main building.

“That should buy us some time.”

But he knew it wouldn’t be long.

Most of the manor’s defenses had been breached. The only reason he was still standing was because of his duty as a father to his children and as the guardian of “it.” He looked at his children, who he had desperately protected.

His children, trembling with fear, looked at their only protector. The current situation was too much for them to bear. He understood, yet his heart ached, knowing that he had to pass on an even heavier burden.

“Yeong-Ah, Seon-Ah, this is it. Father can’t protect you anymore. I promised your mother, who went to heaven five years ago, that I would protect you no matter what… but it seems I’ve become a liar. I’m sorry. It’s all my fault.”

“Father!”

His son, Yoo Gyeong-Yeong, cried out. He was only thirteen years old.

“Dad!”

His daughter, Seon-Ah, ran to him, burying her face in his chest. She was just a seven-year-old child, too young to truly grasp the situation. He was proud that she wasn’t throwing a tantrum.

He stroked his daughter’s head and looked at his son, who was biting his lower lip, his expression stoic. He spoke in a heavy voice.

“Yeong-Ah!”

“…Yes, Father!”

The boy was trying hard not to cry. It was evident that he was terrified, but he was holding it in. He was young, but he already understood the fate that awaited him. He had always been a precocious child, mature beyond his years. He was a bright boy, and he had always believed that he would one day make a name for himself in the martial world, in the financial world… in the loan shark business… but it seemed he wouldn’t live to see that day. Sounds of clashing weapons and dying screams echoed in the distance, drawing closer. Time was running out.

“There isn’t much time left! Take this!”

He took out two silk pouches from inside his robe.

“This is…”

“Open them.”

Yoo Gyeong-Yeong, obeying his father’s command, immediately opened one of the pouches. Inside, there were dozens of folded pieces of paper. He picked one up and unfolded it. Scrawled on it were complex characters that looked like a snake that had coiled itself a thousand times. It was a script that was indecipherable to ordinary people, unreadable even to the most learned scholars. But the boy could read it at a glance.

The characters were written in ‘Dangjache.’

“Th-this is… !”

Dangjache was a special script used exclusively by pawnshops. It was a highly stylized form of cursive writing, with complex and intricate characters. It was designed to prevent outsiders from understanding the content of the documents, and it was extremely difficult to forge. It was also time-consuming to write, both in terms of learning and writing speed. However, it was essential for anyone involved in the loan shark business, as it was used for all documents, including promissory notes and contracts.

Yoo Gyeong-Yeong, under his father’s strict tutelage, had mastered dozens of different types of 당자체. Each pawnshop and bank used their own unique script, so it was necessary to be familiar with all of them. However, the script in this pouch wasn’t one used by Blue Dragon Manor.

“It’s a collection of promissory notes and silver, prepared for an emergency. You’ll need money to escape. Don’t open it in front of others. As the son of Blue Dragon Manor’s master, I trust you know how to handle money.”

The amounts written on the promissory notes were staggering.

“Once Blue Dragon Manor falls, the promissory notes we issued will be worthless. Use those notes to rebuild our family business someday. You may be young, but you’ve learned a lot by my side.”

Yoo Jae-Ryong had taught his son everything he needed to become a successful loan shark. The industry had a deeply ingrained tradition of apprenticeship, passing down its secrets through strict and secretive methods. It was customary for apprentices to join the business at a young age, undergoing a rigorous training process. Trust and reputation weren’t built overnight. So, employees were typically recruited through family connections, acquaintances, or personal recommendations. Sometimes, connections were more important than actual skills. But it wasn’t something to be criticized, given the nature of the business. And of course, the eldest son was the heir apparent. Yoo Jae-Ryong realized that this was the time to impart his final lesson.

“What is money?”

He asked.

“Money is like a wild horse, Father.”

Yoo Gyeong-Yeong immediately answered, having heard his father say it countless times. His father loved to compare money to horses.

Yoo Jae-Ryong nodded.

“You remember well. But do you understand its meaning? Why I compare money to a horse?”

“Well…”

The boy hesitated. He had heard the phrase countless times, but he hadn’t grasped its true meaning. Not understanding its essence meant that those words were pointless.

“…I don’t fully understand, Father. Please enlighten me.”

“As you said, money is like a wild horse. If you can’t control it, it will harm you. But if you can tame it, it will carry you ten thousand miles and conquer the world. Just like when the Qin Dynasty unified China with horses. This is my final lesson, my last teaching. Remember it, and never forget.”

It was the last piece of wisdom he could offer his son. It was now his son’s responsibility to internalize those words and make them his own.

“I’ll never forget, Father.”

Yoo Gyeong-Yeong replied resolutely.

“Never forget. It is my last legacy to you.”

Then what was in the second pouch?

Curious, Yoo Gyeong-Yeong shook the second pouch, tightly sealed.

There was just one object inside. But as his son reached out to open it, Yoo Jae-Ryong stopped him.

“Stop! Never open it. And don’t even be curious about its contents. It’s best that you don’t know what’s inside. Just remember that it’s something you must protect. Even if you lose everything in the first pouch, never lose the contents of the second.”

Yoo Gyeong-Yeong was startled by his father’s firm tone.

‘What could it be… something so precious that it would make my father, a man who lives and breathes pawnshop business, forsake money?’

“Take it and go to this place.”

“Where? ”

His father uttered a single word.

“Nanchang.”

* * *

“You’re late!”

The Blood-Cloaked Man, standing in the middle of hell, with burning buildings and corpses as a backdrop, expressed his displeasure. The sound of clashing weapons and dying screams filled the air. The mission was taking longer than expected. By now, there should be no one left alive within Blue Dragon Manor. Time was their biggest enemy. Every delay increased the risk of the Emei Sect’s intervention.

The problem was the barrier between the outer and inner courtyards.

Blue Dragon Manor had two walls. It wasn’t always like that. When it first started as a pawnshop, it was as small as any other business. So small that it was often mocked. Even finding a place to sit was a challenge. But as the business prospered, the building expanded. Eventually, they tore down the old wall and built a new one. It contained various facilities, like any other pawnshop.

But the growth didn’t stop there. As the business grew, they needed more people to manage it, and as more people were hired, they needed to expand further. They built dormitories for the guards and resident staff, and building a new one.