Chapter 45: Journey towards Mount Hua

In the past, before the Martial Alliance existed, the Orthodox faction was merely a loosely connected assembly of major sects and noble martial families.

The key point is that, however loosely, they were still connected.

They'd show up at each other's weddings and funerals, send letters to see how everyone was doing, you know, the usual neighborly stuff.

It was during this time that the Hidden Dragon Society was formed.

At first, it wasn’t even a gathering of prodigious young talents.

It was simply a social club for the leaders of sects and noble families, where they could build friendships and pool funds for occasions like first birthday celebrations, sixtieth birthdays, weddings, and funerals.

But then, the Demonic Cult invaded.

To survive, the Orthodox faction had to unite their strength.

And as it happened, the members of the Hidden Dragon Society already knew each other well.

Moreover, “My son is your son-in-law, and your son is his son-in-law, and his son is mine.”

Thus, bound by the ties of kinship and camaraderie, they united as one, rallying under the cry of "Are we not family?" The combined might of the Orthodox faction successfully repelled the Demonic Cult’s invasion.

And so, the Martial Alliance was born.

Once the Orthodox faction officially established their alliance, the Association of Hidden Dragons was transformed into a preliminary combat force composed of young martial artists.

But even in a bucket of cold water, there's a top and a bottom.

The esteemed youths of the Nine Great Sects and the Ten Noble Families could not possibly sit at the same table as the lesser Orthodox factions.

Thus, the Hidden Dragon Society was divided into two units:

Celestial Martial Unit and Earthly Valor Unit.

The Celestial Martial Unit consisted of the young elites from the Nine Great Sects and Ten Noble Families, as well as special members recommended by at least ten of their peers.

The Earthly Valor Unit was where all the other young martial artists were gathered.

Because of this, every young member of the Orthodox faction dreamed of joining the Celestial Martial Unit.

To them, its members were the true powerhouses of the Orthodox martial world, soaring like clouds above the rest.

Even without considering social status, every member of the Celestial Martial Unit was an exceptional martial artist, far beyond their years in skill and ability.

They were the true hidden dragons, masters who had already achieved incredible feats.

How could the young warriors of the Orthodox faction not admire them?

In their imaginations, the Celestial Martial Unit was a sacred brotherhood—one where martial artists honed each other's skills with unwavering dedication.

They must have freely exchanged insights, discussed the profound truths of martial arts, and debated deep philosophical concepts.

"Ah! If only I could be there, discussing and exchanging opinions alongside them!"

This was the dream of every young martial artist in the Orthodox faction.

And here, Qing was living that dream.

Engaged in a profound martial arts discussion with members of the Celestial Martial Unit.

—

"Everyone says that the pinnacle of weapons is the Hundred-Day Spear, the Thousand-Day Saber, and the Ten-Thousand-Day Sword. Doesn’t this prove that the sword is the king of all weapons, the greatest of them all? What do you think, Sword Comrade?"

"I agree. What about you, Daoist Changbin?"

The Mount Hua Sect was also known as the Mount Hua Sword Sect.

It meant they were sword-wielders through and through.

"As a humble plum blossom swordsman, I have no choice but to agree as well..."

Qing nodded and declared,

"Then, by an overwhelming majority, the motion that swords are far superior to sabers is passed.."

Peng Daesan frowned.

Qing grinned and moved on to the next topic.

"Now, for the next matter—since the saber only has a blade on one side, isn’t it only half a sword? Shouldn’t we stop calling it a ‘saber’ and instead call it a ‘half-sword’? What do you all think?"

"Ohhh! ‘Half-sword’! I've never heard such an accurate description of the saber in my entire life. This is truly moving. I accept it!"

"But… isn’t it a bit much to refer to another person’s weapon like that…?"

"Daoist Changbin, are you betraying us? We are a Dao faction, aren’t we? Practitioners of the Dao! Are you abandoning the Dao?"

"......Fine. I accept ‘half-sword.’"

"Then, by a three-to-one majority, we hereby declare that from now on, Brother San is not a saber wielder, but a half-sword wielder."

Three swordsmen versus one saber wielder.

Even if Peng Daesan wanted to argue, he was outnumbered.

The tyranny of democracy had struck again.

"Hah. This is too childish. I can’t keep up with this nonsense."

Peng Daesan gritted his teeth in frustration.

Why had he even chosen to travel with Qing?

What kind of whim had led him to this decision? Even he couldn’t explain it.

But one thing was clear.

He regretted it.

He should have just gone on his way. Damn it.

"Well then, today’s snacks will be on the half-sword wielder!"

Peng Daesan growled.

"You expect me to treat you to snacks after hearing all this nonsense? You are the most shameless person in the world. Hah."

"Why not? You’ve just been acknowledged as at least half a swordsman, haven’t you? If I were in your position, I’d be so touched I’d be throwing a feast with roasted pork and beef for the entire village. Truly."

Next to him, Namgung Shinjae nodded vigorously.

Peng Daesan’s voice dropped an octave.

"You’re just running your mouth now."

"Aww, come on. If you don’t want to, that’s fine. Sword Comrade? Aren’t you thirsty? Wouldn’t a nice, refreshing cup of Longjing tea be perfect right now?"

"How could I possibly sit idly if my Sword Brother is thirsty?"

"Then… can we have some bingsoo[^a milk-based Korean shaved ice dessert with sweet toppings that may include chopped fruit, condensed milk, fruit syrup, and red beans.] as well?"

Bingsoo was a frozen treat made from fermented milk—essentially an ancient version of yogurt ice cream.

Aside from the slightly tangy homemade yogurt, its taste and texture were almost identical to the modern-day treat.

When Qing first discovered its existence, she was utterly shocked.

"Ice cream… in this primitive, ancient China?!"

Weren’t these people just primitive folk who stored ice blocks in winter to use later?

How could they have created something like this?

As it turned out, Qing had simply been ignorant.

Medieval China was a world leader in technology.

Even in the hottest summers, they had developed methods to make and enjoy a variety of frozen desserts.

In contrast, the so-called “civilized” Westerners were still scooping up snow and drizzling sweet syrup over it.

In that era, they were the real barbarians.

Of course, the glorious heritage of medieval China had long since been replaced by the chilling joys of the Red People’s Republic.[^It means that the unique and sophisticated culture of medieval China, which included the creation of advanced frozen desserts, was destroyed and replaced by the Communist regime. The "Red People" refers to the Communists, and the "thrilling delights" sarcastically refers to the changes they brought about, which were often brutal and destructive. It's a way of lamenting the loss of a rich cultural heritage and criticizing the actions of the Communist Party.]

"Would just bingsoo be enough? Let’s also have Milbingsu and Sorak![^Bingsu (빙수): Literally means "ice water" but refers to a shaved ice dessert with various toppings.

Milbingsu (밀빙수): "Mil" means "wheat" in Korean, so this likely refers to a type of bingsu that includes wheat-based ingredients, such as cereal flakes or rice cakes.

Sorak (소락): This is likely a type of traditional Korean ice cream made with milk and honey.] Let’s prepare an entire platter of frozen desserts and eat to our hearts’ content!"

Qing raised her sword and shouted,

"As expected of my sword comrade! A truly moving sword technique! Sword!"

"Comrade!"

Namgung Shinjae echoed the cry, raising his sword as well.

Their blades met in midair, crossing at an angle.

Peng Daesan shook his head.

It was one thing for Qing to act like a lunatic—she always did—but the real problem was Brother Namgung indulging her.

In truth, Namgung Shinjae was considered the most outstanding among the Hidden Dragons.

From a young age, he had demonstrated extraordinary perception, an ability to break conventions, and an insight so keen that he could grasp ten truths from seeing just one—an unparalleled genius of the one-seeing-ten principle, the brightest hope of the martial world.

It was even said that he wouldn't become just a Sword King, but the next Martial Emperor.

Had it not been for his peculiar obsession with mastering the martial path through the sword alone, he might have already reached the late peak stage—or even the supreme peak.

"All martial arts ultimately converge into one at their highest point."

That was the fundamental truth of the martial world.

Yet Namgung Shinjae stubbornly fixated on swordsmanship alone.

It was no surprise that his cultivation progress had stagnated.

He was well aware of this fact.

And yet, rather than broadening his horizons, he doubled down on his path, parading around as a sword fanatic.

Serious people attract serious conversations.

Fools, on the other hand, are best left alone.

This was why the his father, the Sword King drowned himself in liquor every night, drinking without a cup, without snacks—just reckless, sorrowful intoxication.

A filial son, truly.

Peng Daesan gritted his teeth.

"What a bunch of clowns."

At that moment, Changbin, who had grown so quiet since Qing’s arrival that he had practically disappeared from the conversation, spoke up hesitantly.

"By the way, Brother Peng, I have to ask because I'm curious. This so-called ‘refreshing Longjing tea’… I have never in my life heard of something so horrific. Does such a thing actually exist?"

"Why don’t you ask the person who said it?"

"Hmm..."

Changbin stroked his chin in contemplation before concluding,

"…That won’t be easy."

Peng Daesan almost lashed out in frustration but held back, reminding himself that Changbin was still his elder. He just sighed deeply.

And so, the debate ended with Qing cheerfully munching on frozen desserts.

As before, as always—she just ate.

Peng Daesan found the sight strangely irritating.

She'd eat anything as long as someone else was paying.

Even the black hunting dogs they raised in noble families wouldn't eat food from an unfamiliar hand.

But Qing?

She didn't care.

She was just happy.

—

Currently, the group had been resting in Shinyang for two days after traveling three days westward from Huangquan.

This was how it went when traveling with these noble brats.

They’d ride a carriage to a city, rest for a day or two depending on their fatigue, then rent another carriage and set off again.

Of course, Peng Daesan—who was somewhat frugal—and Changbin—who was truly frugal—preferred to join an armed escort caravan rather than hiring a private carriage and driver.

But then there was Namgung Shinjae, who would casually rip pages out of his checkbook and fill his travel packs to the brim at every stop.

The Namgung family was the second wealthiest of the Five Great Noble Houses, and the Young Sword King spent money as if he were a god of fortune descended to the mortal world.

Incidentally, the wealthiest of the Five Great Clans was said to be in Sichuan.

—

After two days of rest, it was time to depart.

"This is a crossroads. If we go north, it’ll be the fastest and most comfortable route. If we head west, we’ll avoid cities for a while and take a longer detour."

"Then let’s go north."

"North leads to Luoyang."

Oh, hell no.

Luoyang meant trouble.[^Chapter 6. TLDR: Peng and Qing met and went to Luoyang together on a caravan! "Fought" the daughter of the black shadow association. Met little supreme justice and his older cousin!]

Back then and even now, Qing’s cultivation level had improved significantly, but her overall realm remained the same.

If only she had reached the Transcendent Realm, she would have gone there and caused some mayhem.

Not to mention, she had left some unfinished business there.

Just you wait. Once I reach the Transcendent Realm, I'll wreak havoc on you all.

Keep your necks washed and ready, Black Shadow Society!

...Wait, was it Black Bear Association?

What was it again?[^Black Shadow Association]

Damn this primitive China—why did every sect and every person have such similar-sounding names? It was infuriating.

Of course, Qing's face had changed significantly.

But with Peng Daesan at her side, she would inevitably attract attention.

And if anything happened, she'd have to run—again.

"If we go west...?"

"The next city is near Daebyeol Mountain, so it'll take about a week."

Qing frowned.

A week of traveling through villages or sleeping outdoors.

Then again, in the Central Plains, there wasn’t much difference between the two.

Sleeping arrangements, food—at most, it was the difference between a little extra effort or spending a few coins to avoid that effort.

What choice was there?

Qing turned to the group.

"I’ll have to ask for your patience. Because of me, we’ll be taking a rougher road."

"Disappointing. Do I seem like the kind of man who would turn my back on my sword comrade's hardships?"

"Uh, well, I think I’ll just..."

"What? Are you abandoning your Daoist brothers? Throwing away your sect loyalty? Have you no respect for your elders?"

"I agree..."

Both of them agreed—so decisively, so swiftly.

How fortunate.

At least the wallet wasn't abandoning her.

And so, with their bags packed, they stepped outside.

The streets were oddly crowded, and strangely, the number of women in the crowd was disproportionately high.

By now, this wasn’t even surprising.

Ignoring the commotion, they made their way toward the horse rental station—

—until Qing witnessed something unusual.

"Please, help me find my son..."

"Hey, old hag! Do you even know where you are?!"

"Please... I beg you... My son said he was going to the Great Justice Gate. Please, just let me search for him—please..."

Before a grand stone wall, in front of a side gate, stood an elderly woman with stark white hair, clinging desperately to a spear-wielding martial artist, pleading for her son.