Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time

Chapter 292: Lotus (11)
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"......."

A moment of silence passed.

The expressions of the noble families who had come to visit the residence of the vagabond swordsman, Geom Un-bi, shifted in various ways.

Some raised their eyebrows in disbelief, as if doubting their own ears. Others nodded slightly, as if acknowledging the level of martial prowess that could warrant such arrogance.

There were even high-level warriors who openly displayed their displeasure in place of their clan leader. They saw a clear divide between the vagabond and the noble clans.

For generations, they had lived like mountain gods among the common people, revered as the elite of the martial world.

Regardless of their reactions, they were figures naturally accepted in the martial world of Shanxi.

"Surely, he wasn’t speaking to the noble clan leader? Calling him dust?"

"That would be an extreme assumption. But isn’t the real issue his attitude? Answering a noble clan leader’s words with an offhanded remark, as if talking to himself—how insolent. No matter how strong a vagabond is, what can he do alone?"

"Let them talk as they please. I came to offer words of goodwill."

Though there was a gap in martial prowess between different regional sects, noble clans were not ones to act blindly.

They had not come rushing in recklessly, simply because they had witnessed an overwhelming burst of energy.

Among them were many who carefully assessed the situation—observing positions and temperaments, determining who they were dealing with, and deciding the appropriate course of action.

Recruitment, persuasion, friendly duels, forging connections...

Among the crowd, the faces of the Gongya siblings took on an unusual look.

The grand princess, Gongya Jeong, subtly adjusted her sleeves, betraying her unease, while her younger brother, Gongya Su, lowered his sharp gaze, his eyes brimming with admiration.

"Sword Master Geom has made enemies. What should we do about this...?"

"But just now—was that really Sword Master’s energy? How is that even possible? It’s beyond absurd. He’s strong, sure, but I never imagined he was that strong."

"Sword Master?"

"He’s far, far superior to me. And besides, the way he speaks, the way he looks—he’s got an air of nobility about him. At a glance, he seems like he was raised with wealth, but there’s also this raw, unrefined edge to him... Are all vagabonds like that? I never thought I’d see someone acting that way in front of a noble clan leader!"

"Be quiet. That kind of talk won’t help Sword Master Geom."

Gongya Jeong calmly chastised her younger brother.

Concern lingered in her gaze. The man had bestowed upon her a martial technique—she was determined to repay that grace with worthy achievements.

Her own progress was her problem, but she had not anticipated trouble arising on Geom Un-bi’s side.

‘It makes sense. After hearing Gui Il-tae’s insults, how could he have any goodwill left...?’

Many had seen it during the banquet.

The son of the noble clan leader had spoken of Geom Un-bi’s origins to his face.

Lowly.

He had declared that since Geom Un-bi was merely a guest, he should do his best to serve the grand princess.

Most of the people present now had also been in attendance at that banquet.

Considering that, the noble clan leader’s current air of haughty composure could easily be perceived as oppressive arrogance.

At that moment—

"Only the leaders will stay."

Jeong Yeon-shin spoke abruptly.

A great undertaking was at hand, requiring the cooperation of three individuals clad in black.

A more thorough, more decisive preparation was necessary.

The land beneath his feet no longer felt like the Gongya Clan’s estate—it was starting to resemble the domain of Zhuge Hyeon.

To bring down the supreme master of sorcery and martial arts, ordinary preparations would not suffice.

The leaders of the Shanxi noble clans exchanged glances behind them.

They had just experienced the overwhelming energy of the master of Hyeoncheon Sect, Geom Un-bi. None of them wished to see any needless sacrifices among their subordinates.

The younger warriors, including the Gongya siblings, as well as several attendants, began withdrawing one by one.

Then, Jeong Yeon-shin spoke again.

"Follow me."

His tone was nearly a command. And yet, it fit him perfectly.

At the same time, the massive frame of the Shanxi noble clan leader trembled violently. He was visibly furious, unable to contain his wrath.

"You arrogant wretch! This insolence has gone too far! Do you even realize to whom you are speaking?! No matter how powerful a vagabond’s martial prowess may be, such disrespect cannot be tolerated!"

His voice boomed, as if tearing through the night air.

The power buried deep beneath his steel-plated core was unmistakable—a display of internal energy befitting the head of an esteemed noble family.

Jeong Yeon-shin did not answer.

Hwaak!

Without a word, he extended his hand, and a fierce wind brushed past the threshold.

A moment later, a jet-black robe was pulled into the air as if of its own accord.

The sound of silk rustling filled the air as the floating sleeve of the robe revealed a series of faintly inscribed characters—荒 (Wilderness).

"Do I still look like a vagabond to you?"

Jeong Yeon-shin, gripping the black robe, asked quietly.

At that moment, from behind the Shanxi noble clans, two more figures in pitch-black robes emerged, their garments billowing violently.

***

The black-robed elders had arrived, having sensed their junior’s burst of energy.

The Vice Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, the Lord of Ma Gwang-ik, and the Blood Commanding Lord.

The three masters of Wonpyeong’s Sword Arena had gathered in a foreign land.

To the noble families of the distant Ho Province, it was a terrifying sight.

Indeed, they remained silent, gauging the expressions of the three figures before them.

"Leave them be."

As soon as Jeong Yeon-shin, Jin Myeong-jo, and the others settled around the low table in the side chamber, a voice broke the silence.

At the same time, an invisible barrier of tightly woven qi formed around them like an imperceptible curtain.

Ak Su-rim continued speaking.

"It’s over."

"...Excuse me?"

"Zhuge Clan’s patriarch knows. No—rather, it’s more accurate to say he’s been prepared from the beginning. Blood Commanding Lord found a formation anchor near the tournament grounds."

"I see."

"You’re surprisingly calm about this. Seomye, are you angry? You seem different than usual."

"It’s a personal matter. Let’s focus on the mission."

"Mm... alright."

Ak Su-rim shrugged once.

Jin Myeong-jo, who had been sitting close beside her, subtly trembled upon hearing his junior’s words.

That small motion brought Jeong Yeon-shin a measure of reassurance.

Master Shin-Hyeol Guk-ma truly treats his juniors’ concerns as his own.

"Kwon Mugong and Zhuge Clan’s patriarch are nearly invincible when working together. There are martial artists who experience a massive surge in strength the moment they join forces. They are exactly that type. It’s horrifying."

"Then we just need to separate them."

Jeong Yeon-shin replied calmly to Ak Su-rim’s assessment.

That was the only solution.

The formations manipulated by a grandmaster of sorcery were said to rival divine techniques.

Zhuge Clan’s patriarch aimed to use the tournament to distinguish the worthy from the unworthy.

He had undoubtedly prepared contingencies to eliminate any unforeseen factors.

There was no reason to engage him within his carefully constructed battlefield.

"Our Seomye, so confident? That’s right! To face them properly, we need to deal with Kwon Mugong first."

"Then..."

"I’ll handle Zhuge. Blood Commanding Lord’s sensory range is enormous—one way or another, we’ll buy time. Who knows, by the time you arrive..."

She trailed off playfully, winking with one eye.

"My spear might already be lodged in that bastard’s skull."

"Understood."

"But seriously, what happened? Tell your grandmother everything."

"Yes, Grandmother."

As the night deepened, a quiet conversation unfolded.

A discussion that would soon turn the Shanxi martial world upside down.

***

The Sun Stood at Its Zenith.

The transparent sunlight filled the crisp winter air.

“From this moment, this place is a cradle of martial prowess!”

A rough voice, infused with jin-gi, spread far and wide.

The declaration, which exaggerated the significance of this competition among young martial artists, might have sounded grandiose. Yet, given the densely packed crowd surrounding the biwu stage, it carried weight.

At the center of the stage—

“The renowned figures of Shanxi have declared this a fair match! Countless young masters have thrown their challenge plaques to broaden their horizons. Witness today’s dazzling duels and spread the tale across the world!”

A middle-aged man in white scholar’s robes took the lead in officiating. A thunderous cheer erupted, filling the surroundings.

Waaaahhhhh!

On the vast hills of Hengping Mountain in Shanxi’s Lao’an Prefecture—

The biwu stage had been hastily constructed, with even the location and schedule abruptly changed. Yet, hundreds had gathered.

Most of them wore the garb of those who could weather a famine without concern. Silk garments, palanquins, carriages, and fine steeds were in abundance.

For the wealthy, the movements of the martial noble clans were of utmost interest.

The rivalries and power struggles among the strong directly impacted commerce, land ownership, and control over shops.

“The first to open the tournament’s gates is...”

The man in scholar’s robes trailed off. At the same time, the canopies encircling the biwu stage shook violently.

The young warriors from noble families, eager to prove their prowess and elevate their reputations, released their qi, causing the air to tremble.

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As gusts swept through the mountain gaps, merging with the surging energies, the entire setup shuddered.

It was at that moment, just as many in the crowd gasped in admiration—

Hwaaak! Boom!

The center of the biwu stage caved in. Jagged cracks split outward, golden streaks flashing across their edges.

The ripple of energy shattered the youthful auras scattered around, reducing them to fragments.

A lone figure had landed abruptly.

The moment they straightened their posture, gasps of shock rang out.

“Master Eon has arrived...!”

“Kwon Mugong is here!”

“Kwon Mugong Master Eon...? Could it really be—”

“The First Fist of the Eon Family! The First Fist of the Eon Family is here!”

The murmuring crowd erupted into a fervent uproar, far louder than the announcement of the tournament’s opening.

Even those standing closest to the biwu stage, who had been shouting moments before, now clutched their ears from the overwhelming noise.

And then—

Eon Hwayeon spoke.

“I’ve come to avenge my defeat.”

Her voice cut through the commotion with ease, carrying a level of qi far beyond the norm.

As a heavy silence settled over the surroundings, she spoke again.

“There are no traps. The Reincarnated Dragon is not coming. The Murim Alliance had to divert their efforts elsewhere to prevent them from encroaching upon Shanxi.

I am the only one here.

And I swear upon the martial arts I have cultivated all my life.”

“Um... Master Eon...?”

The officiator hesitantly approached her.

At that moment, a figure seated beneath one of the canopies shot forward with astonishing body lightness technique, seizing the officiator by the collar and pulling him back.

Whoosh.

A burst of wind followed in their wake.

Beneath her neck, Eon Hwayeon’s jet-black bob swayed.

“Lord Gongya.”

“Master Eon.”

“I owe Shanxi a debt. I received much aid in this foreign land.”

“I, too, was honored to broaden my perspective.”

“I advise you to avoid entanglement with the Gui Family. And it would be wise not to forge deep ties with The Reincarnated Dragon, either.

A sect that stretches its hands outward for aid will eventually lose its soul.

I only realized this too late.”

“......”

“For a middling sect like the Gongya Clan, it is best to bow where necessary and walk alone where needed.

Struggle too hard to imitate those who dominate the jianghu, and you’ll only tear yourself apart.

Like that one, for example.”

Eon Hwayeon subtly tilted her head forward.

Step.

A black-clad figure ascended the biwu stage with effortless grace, walking forward with a refined gait.

Tall—on the boundary between boyhood and youth—his presence carried an indescribable stillness.

He was the opponent she had come to face.

“The Sect Master of Hyeoncheon. A vagabond who, despite his youth, has already reached the realm of grandmaster.”

“Master Eon has... lost to him before?”

“I saw them exchange blows once. It looked evenly matched at first glance, but...”

The murmurs among the crowd deepened.

Yet, the two masters paid them no mind, standing face-to-face.

Gongya Clan’s patriarch, after briefly observing Jeong Yeon-shin, the Sect Master of Hyeoncheon, withdrew alongside the officiator.

“Zhuge Patriarch isn’t coming?”

Jeong Yeon-shin asked.

Eon Hwayeon nodded.

“Yes. Because I didn’t mention you.

Right now, The Reincarnated Dragon has set down preparations at every step of his movements.

No matter who comes from Iphwang Fortress, he has already made arrangements to crush them.

He no longer adheres to a strict schedule because he has ascended beyond such trivial constraints.

You must never forget this.”

“...The Gui Family’s servants fled. Won’t he suspect me?”

“They were eliminated—without a trace.

It was likely the work of The Five Moon Killing Sect, but this isn’t the time to discuss that. I have no idea what happened there.”

The Five Moon Killing Sect—an infamous assassination faction—was always mentioned when speaking of tournament victors.

After a brief silence, Jeong Yeon-shin spoke again.

“What’s your purpose?”

“I want to be done with it.”

“The Reincarnated Dragon* has lost his dignity.

The man I admired was once a scholar, drowning in sorrow after losing his wife.

Not an absolute master who abandoned his life to a grand cause and fell into ruin.”

Her voice drifted across the winter air, sweeping over the biwu stage.

Regret.

A bitter qi clung to her words, like a blade scraping against dry skin.

It’s genuine.

Even without reaching into his upper dantian, he could feel it.

Now, it was not her he needed to worry about—it was the surrounding audience.

Many among them were noble families who looked down on vagabonds.

They commanded dozens of disciples, wielding them like an array of flying swords—Shanxi's mongrels.

There were many unfamiliar presences.

Parasites of the jianghu.

They hadn’t visited the Gongya Estate first; they had come straight here.

Insignificant specks of dust.

From the elevated vantage of the Coiling Dragon’s Fan, he could feel their qi.

Were they truly martial artists, or simply opportunists, viewing honor as nothing more than a commodity in a famine-stricken economy?

Beneath the canopies, various energies stirred, impatient to ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) intervene on Eon Hwayeon’s behalf.

These dust specks, having consumed their fair share of medicinal herbs, would surely be irritating if they got under his skin.

It was a gathering where few lacked connections to the Zhuge Patriarch.

He had initially been concerned about restrictions in his movements.

But now—he needed to claim his identity.

To ensure no one dared to interfere.

Swish.

Jeong Yeon-shin slid his left hand beneath his sleeveless robe, placing it upon his right forearm.

He felt a soft texture—an extra layer of cloth wrapped around his arm.

Rip!

He tore it away in one swift motion.

The fabric unraveled in his grip, rapidly disintegrating under the force of his qi.

At the same time, the restless energies around him began to still—one by one.

Only a few, at first.

But the majority rose to their feet instead.

“What?! What’s happening?”

“The Wild Huang insignia?!”

“That... that’s—!”

“Jeong Yeon-shin of Ma Gwang-ik.”

Fragments of silk shimmered, scattering into the air.

As white light fractured into glimmering dust, Jeong Yeon-shin’s lips parted.

“I accept Kwon Mugong’s challenge.”

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