The Wuyue Gathering, which could be said to be both long and short, concluded leaving behind a shocking result.
The Huashan Sect's first defeat.
It was the first humiliation the Huashan Sect had ever experienced since the Wuyue Gathering was first held.
However, most of the spectators who attended the Wuyue Gathering only mentioned the martial alias of the young boy who appeared later and displayed outstanding divine prowess, rather than the Huashan Sect's defeat.
"...Plum blossoms bloomed along with the wind, filling the entire sparring grounds, you know?"
"That's right, it was truly a beautiful sight."
As if recalling that moment, the female disciples muttered with hazy eyes, and another female disciple who couldn't attend due to other matters tilted her head and opened her mouth.
"But is that for real?"
At the question heavily tinged with doubt, the two women thumped their chests simultaneously.
"Ah, how frustrating."
"Sigh, you really should have seen it."
Despite the two's scolding out of frustration, the female disciple didn't shrink back and rather looked puzzled.
"But I heard Martial Uncle Cheon-hwi is only fourteen years old. Besides, I heard his health has been poor since before, so he's only been recuperating..."
The two disciples flinched for a moment.
Come to think of it, it was true.
They knew about Cheon-hwi, but until they saw him directly at the Wuyue Gathering, Cheon-hwi was no different from a mythical existence like a dragon or a qilin to them.
They had only heard rumors of him being in the Mid-Jingyang stage, and had almost never seen him in person.
"Was he not sick?"
"Could it be that the Elders hid his illness to raise Martial Uncle Cheon-hwi as our sect's secret weapon?"
"Secret weapon?"
"Our sect's prestige and reputation have been on the decline lately, right? So to regain our former prestige, they must have been raising him in secret. Otherwise, it doesn't make sense, does it?"
Clap!
The two clapped their hands and agreed.
"That could be it."
"Our sect isn't our sect for nothing!"
As such, the distorted rumors about Cheon-hwi gradually spread within the Huashan Sect.
"...."
The Zixia Pavilion, the residence where the Sect Leader stayed, was flowing with a freezing chill.
At the center of the chill was Hyeon-ryeo.
With eyes as cold as a sheet of ice, she alternately glared at the Sect Leader and Hyeon-do sitting opposite and in front of her.
Sip—
"Ahem, ahem."
Meeting her stinging gaze, the Sect Leader avoided her eyes and sipped his tea, while Hyeon-do next to him was sweating profusely.
Just as that awkward atmosphere flowed.
"Senior Brother."
Hyeon-ryeo's mouth slowly opened.
At her call, the Sect Leader and Hyeon-do immediately looked at each other and smiled.
"Hehe, Junior Brother. She's calling you."
"Hahaha, Senior Brother, really. If a Junior Sister calls out 'Senior Brother' so gravely, wouldn't it naturally refer to the Sect Leader of our sect! Namely, Sect Leader Senior Brother."
Seeing their attitude of trying to pass the buck to each other, Hyeon-ryeo raised her eyebrows fiercely and spoke.
"Senior. Brothers."
"Hehehe."
"Cough."
At her sharply chopped tone, the Sect Leader smiled awkwardly, and just as Hyeon-do coughed artificially and turned his gaze away—
"Why didn't you inform me that Cheon-hwi possessed such martial prowess?"
Hearing Hyeon-ryeo's words rushing in, the two made expressions as if they had faced what they wanted to avoid, then tightly closed their eyes.
And just as they thought, Hyeon-ryeo's mouth moved as fast as a swift sword.
"That's not all! Making a child whose body isn't even fully healed suddenly participate in a sparring match! What on earth have you done to the child..."
At her shrill voice that felt like needles piercing their ears, the Sect Leader hastily opened his mouth.
"Junior Sister."
"So... Tell me."
At his call, Hyeon-ryeo stopped speaking, then narrowed her eyes and waited for what he would say next.
"It was all for Cheon-hwi's sake."
"For Cheon-hwi's sake... you say?"
Hyeon-ryeo's voice sharpened even more, but the Sect Leader responded calmly.
"Through this, we announced Cheon-hwi's existence to our sect and the Wuyue Sword Sects. When else would we have an opportunity to elevate his fame like this?"
Actually, it was nonsense.
They had only hastily called Cheon-hwi to resolve the situation that was heading to the worst, and had no such intention at all.
But so what.
No matter how the process went, the result was exactly that.
"But Cheon-hwi hasn't even recovered his body for long yet."
At Hyeon-ryeo's rebuttal, the Sect Leader let out a low voice with a grave expression.
"Does such a statement come out even after seeing Cheon-hwi's martial prowess that day?"
"...."
Hyeon-ryeo closed her mouth.
It was because, just as he said, the martial prowess Cheon-hwi displayed that day was overwhelming.
But that was that.
Her dissatisfaction was unavoidable.
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
The Sect Leader glanced at Hyeon-do.
'You answer this.'
At that gaze, Hyeon-do flinched.
As if his throat was burning, he picked up the cold tea and gulped it down in one breath.
"Weren't you very busy because of the Wuyue Gathering, Junior Sister?"
"I was going to tell you when it ended."
"Is that really true?"
As Hyeon-ryeo looked at the two with a suspicious expression, the Sect Leader and Hyeon-do nodded their heads as if it was nothing.
"Hehehe, isn't that obvious?"
"It's a task Junior Sister personally requested of me, how could I not inform you."
As Hyeon-ryeo tilted her head but gradually accepted it, the two felt relieved.
'What's with these guys?'
Cheon-hwi, the very person they were arguing over, was fiercely contorting his face at the abrupt situation.
Glance—
They, who were keeping a distance of about three zhang, no longer came closer to him, but they were thoroughly scanning his every move.
At their gaze bearing down on him like the scorching midday sun, the space between Cheon-hwi's brows narrowed.
'What are you looking at?'
Cheon-hwi glared at them.
Then they frantically turned their heads. Perhaps because they turned their heads too hastily, some had their noses buried in books, or were holding their books upside down.
He scowled involuntarily.
At that moment, the faces of the female disciples who were hiding behind their books and glancing at him blossomed brightly.
Seeing the change in their expressions, Cheon-hwi made a face of sheer disbelief.
They like it when I scowl? Are they crazy?
In the past, when he scowled, most would be terrified and run away with pale faces, or bow their heads.
But they like it?
Shaking his head from side to side, he walked past them.
"Ah..."
Shaking off their voices sighing in regret, he strode away. He went down the stairs in one breath, and just as the stinging gazes were about to disappear.
"Hwi."
Hyeon-cheong, who had become considerably closer by visiting the Wanjing Pavilion every day, called out to him.
He was looking at him with a face full of considerable bewilderment at the crowd that had flocked to the Wanjing Pavilion.
Soon, his mouth opened.
"It's the first time so many disciples have come to the Wanjing Pavilion. Do you perhaps know what's going on?"
"I don't know."
Seeing Cheon-hwi speak firmly and leave the Wanjing Pavilion, Hyeon-cheong tilted his head.
No matter how he looked at it, the only one deeply connected to the current situation was Cheon-hwi.
The gazes and interests of the disciples who entered the Wanjing Pavilion were entirely directed at Cheon-hwi.
'What on earth is going on?'
Doubt filled Hyeon-cheong's eyes.
Soon, he scanned the disciples looking down from above and closed the book in his hand.
* * *
Quite some time after leaving the Wanjing Pavilion, how long had he been climbing up the narrow mountain path?
"...Sir!"
At the faintly heard voice, one of Cheon-hwi's eyebrows twitched slightly.
It sounds like it's coming from my thatched cottage?
He hurried his steps.
Thud— Thud—
"Please teach me martial arts!"
At that moment, another thunderous shout was heard.
The closer he got to the thatched cottage, the louder and more clearly the shout pierced his ears.
Then the thatched cottage came into view.
And the shadow in front of it, too.
The shadow, which seemed to be the source of the noisy shouting, was kneeling respectfully toward the thatched cottage with both hands clasped together.
At that moment, the shadow raised his head again.
"Martial Uncle!"
Martial Uncle?
He put strength into his eyes.
The back of the shadow's head looked somewhat familiar.
Where have I seen him...
He recalled the foolish guy who was frozen with nervousness when they were barely sparring.
Ah! Jeok-geom, or whatever. It's that guy.
At that time, Jeok-geom shouted again.
"Please teach me martial arts!"
Does he think I'm inside?
Watching Jeok-geom's gaze not leaving the thatched cottage even once, Cheon-hwi approached him.
Soon, standing behind his back, he asked.
"What are you doing?"
"Gasp!"
At the voice suddenly coming from behind, Jeok-geom jumped in surprise and swallowed his breath.
"M-Martial Uncle?"
Greatly flustered, he looked at Cheon-hwi.
Then quickly looked at the thatched cottage.
Looking at Cheon-hwi, then looking at the thatched cottage.
As he jerked his head back and forth a few times like that, his face and ears turned bright red.
He must have really thought I was inside.
As Cheon-hwi looked at the embarrassed Jeok-geom with a pathetic gaze, the moment he stepped past him and into the thatched cottage—
Grab!
He felt a ferocious grip catch his trouser leg.
"Martial Uncle!"
Jeok-geom, who was practically lying on the ground because he hastily reached out his hand, grabbed Cheon-hwi's trouser leg and fired a desperate look.
"Could you bestow even a little teaching upon this lowly martial nephew?"
Meeting Jeok-geom's eyes, Cheon-hwi's closed mouth opened.
"Why would I?"
"...What?"
At the completely unexpected question, Jeok-geom let out a deflated voice.
As Cheon-hwi looked at his figure unable to give any answer, his foot moved.
Swish—
In a fleeting moment shorter than a single breath, deploying the Qixing Steps, Cheon-hwi slipped out of Jeok-geom's tenacious grip on his trouser leg and entered the thatched cottage.
Jeok-geom, who had been staring blankly as if possessed by something, belatedly came to his senses and shouted when Cheon-hwi disappeared into the thatched cottage.
"M-Martial Uncle!"
It was an urgent shout, but Cheon-hwi lightly ignored it and frowned.
Is it because of that sparring match?
While thinking about the concentrated attention and gazes on him today, he nodded.
There was no other answer than that.
"Well, it won't last long."
Thinking that it was just a momentary attention that would naturally fade over time anyway, Cheon-hwi immediately assumed the lotus position.
Soon, about an hour passed.
"I will visit again later."
A low voice was heard.
Following that, he felt the presence of Jeok-geom, who had been waiting outside the thatched cottage, leaving.
He was already busy to death just organizing the martial arts manuals of the Wanjing Pavilion, let alone teaching.
He immediately withdrew his qi circulation.
"Shall I focus a bit now."
Making a refreshed expression at the troublesome thing leaving, he smiled with satisfaction.
"Among the things I saw today..."
Enjoying the peace, he immediately recalled the Sweeping Leaves Leg Technique (Saoye Tuifa) that he had read with quite a bit of interest at the Wanjing Pavilion today.
But was it a trick of fate?
Cheon-hwi's peace did not last long.
Thud— Thud—
Footsteps were heard from far outside, and feeling a sense of foreboding, Cheon-hwi's expression hardened like stone.
At that moment, a voice was heard.
"Martial Uncle."
This time, it was a woman's voice.
"This martial niece is Seol-ran."
Seol-ran, who politely revealed her name, paused for a moment, then spoke with distinct inner energy in her voice.
"If it wouldn't be a nuisance, could you teach martial arts to this martial niece?"
At her request, which was not a single syllable different from Jeok-geom's, Cheon-hwi scratched his head and suddenly lay down spread-eagled.
"Dammit."
Today was just not his day.