Chapter 96 - The Solitary Sword

A sword sect full of empty swagger, concerned only with looking impressive. That was his master's assessment. Having faced them himself, Jong Jihang could hardly judge them otherwise.

A feeble sword that reeks of women's face powder.

That was his master's assessment of the Mount Hua Sect, whose disciples had emerged after those of Kunlun. This time, however, he thought somewhat differently. They smelled of face powder, but he did not feel that they were merely feeble. For a fleeting moment, he had wanted to see Mount Hua's Plum Blossom Sword brought to mastery.

In fact, that was why he had gotten into an altercation with them earlier.

The woman had given off a rich fragrance of plum blossoms. He had found it mysterious that the fragrance emanated from her even as she stood still, and the few glances he had cast her way had caused the trouble. Of course, the more fundamental problem had been the other party's overreaction.

Jong Jihang briefly reviewed what had happened, then put it out of his mind. Once a swordsman had done what needed doing, there was no reason to dwell on it. His master had always said so, and he agreed. The fight was over, and another would await him. With that, this fight had lost its significance.

SHHHHH...

Jong Jihang stood alone with nothing to do, at the ship's rail, where he had the clearest view of the parting current.

["Cleave the world as you would cleave the current."]

He had never even seen a current, much less the world. Having spent his entire life at Jongnam, Jongnam had been the whole world to him. At least, it had been when he heard those words.

He had answered that he would. He could hardly dispute his master's dying instructions.

Now, facing a truly powerful current from so close, he thought he understood why his master had said that.

Jong Jihang raised his right hand high above his head.

WHOOSH.

His hand descended in a casual knife-edge chop.

Nothing happened. The boat continued majestically onward, cleaving the current.

But what if that current had been the world, and his hand the Great Heavenly Adamant Sword? Jong Jihang wondered. Desperately.

Then, suddenly, the faces of the two men who had looked down at him from the second floor of Clear Waters Pavilion rose into his mind amid the parting waters.

One had been a master. Even a glance had told him the man was so accomplished that the Great Heavenly Adamant Sword had tingled in response.

The other man...

'Hmm.'

He could not remember. He did not know why.

Jong Jihang soon stopped caring. His interest lay with the strong. He had no interest in weaklings who could not even elicit a signal from the Great Heavenly Adamant Sword.

'Could I win?'

He raised his right hand high again and swept it down.

His imaginary opponent drew a sword and blocked his hand.

The imagined duel that began with that exchange continued for a long while, and the other man, whom he could not recall, faded still further into the recesses of his memory.

And so he was utterly forgotten.

He had seemed neither important nor particularly strong. Not yet...

Zhengzhou. The capital of Henan Province.

Henan was called the Central Province, the heart of the Central Plains. And at the heart of that province lay Zhengzhou. In other words, it was the very center of the center. Yet despite that geographical advantage, Zhengzhou had long attracted relatively little attention.

To the west lay Luoyang, and to the east, Kaifeng. Both had flourished since ancient times as crucial transportation hubs. A succession of dynasties had established their capitals in those two cities. As a result, Zhengzhou had largely been regarded as nothing more than the provincial capital caught between them.

Until this organization had settled there.

[Ping Has the Imperial Palace; Zheng Has the Martial Alliance]

Pingzhou had the imperial palace, and Zhengzhou had the Murim Alliance.

The Murim Alliance.

The heavens above Murim. An organization so formidable that it was compared to the imperial palace.

Especially in times like these, its influence could truly be said to blanket the world.

Lately, Zhengzhou, home to that very Alliance, had been abuzz.

Would even Beiping be this crowded when the civil service examinations were held?

Hundreds of young martial artists poured into Zhengzhou every day. With every manner of dress and every peculiar accent filling its streets, one could rightly say that people had gathered from all Nine Provinces.

The All-Under-Heaven Youth Sparring Tournament.

This tournament, hosted by the Murim Alliance, was setting the hearts of young martial artists across the country ablaze.

Just as scholars depended on the civil service examinations to rise in the world and make their names, a sparring tournament like this was a martial artist's best chance to gain renown.

Moreover, scholars had the regular examinations held every three years, but martial artists might see such an opportunity only once in their lives, if at all. There was a world of difference in value between a regularly scheduled examination and an unscheduled one. All the more reason for young martial artists to stake their lives on this chance.

On top of that, ordinary spectators were also flocking to Zhengzhou. A sparring tournament on this scale was a tremendous spectacle. Not only martial artists but poets and men of letters could talk about it over drinks for the rest of their lives.

And if a hero born at this tournament should one day become the greatest martial artist under heaven, would it not be an occasion remembered throughout Murim's history?

Today, too, people were streaming into Zhengzhou along every route from the north, south, east, and west.

Whether novices or masters, chivalrous warriors or villains.

Or...

Something else entirely...

The Murim Alliance. The heart of Murim. A vast estate stretching over three hundred zhang from north to south and more than two hundred zhang from east to west.

It was another provincial capital within Zhengzhou itself.

Follow the government road running north to south through Zhengzhou far enough south, and Mount Clear Dawn came into view. With that mountain at its back, the Murim Alliance looked majestically down over the city.

Countless people were flocking to Zhengzhou, but not everyone could enter the Murim Alliance. Since the sparring tournament had yet to begin, only those who had received official invitations issued by the Alliance could pass through its main entrance, the Martial Harmony Gate.

Nor did passing through that gate mean one could roam freely within. Guests were generally assigned rooms in the Guest Pavilion according to their renown, while their reputation and seniority likewise determined where they were permitted to go. Most guests were restricted to the outer precincts beyond the Guest Pavilion. Only a very few special visitors could enter the inner precincts.

All the palaces, halls, and pavilions central to the Alliance stood within the inner precincts, so that area could in fact be called the true Murim Alliance. Anyone free to come and go there could rightly be considered a genuine luminary of Murim.

Yet, like any large organization, the Murim Alliance also had a place where entry was strictly forbidden, regardless of who one was. Even the sect leaders of the great sects and the patriarchs of the great clans could not approach it without permission.

Heavenly Unity Hall. The residence of the Murim Alliance Leader.

All the authority of orthodox Murim flowed from this place, and martial prowess and talent from throughout the Central Plains flowed into it. Thus, anyone who aspired to stand as the heavens above Murim would have to surpass this place or become its master.

This imposing building was as dangerous and fearsome as its appearance suggested. At a single command from the Murim Alliance Leader, formations of every description would activate, leaving even a master of unrivaled skill unable to escape.

That was why people also called it the Fortress of Iron and Blood. In some respects, it might be even harder to infiltrate than the emperor's own residence.

Now, someone had entered that fortress without interference from either its formations or the warriors guarding Heavenly Unity Hall so tightly.

No one here had met him before, yet none had stopped him from entering. The Murim Alliance Leader, the Taoist Sage of Heaven, had given advance word.

The Murim Alliance Leader's study.

Unlike the ornate exterior of Heavenly Unity Hall, this room held only a table and a bed, and was filled with the fragrance of tea. Perhaps it reflected its owner's unpretentious nature.

Two people now sat facing each other at the square table in its center.

SLURP.

The Taoist Sage of Heaven lightly raised his teacup to his lips. The movement was utterly gentle and unassuming, making his otherworldly air, like that of an immortal, all the more pronounced. One might have expected the tea to touch his beard, whiter than snow, yet not a trace of moisture clung to it.

He slowly lowered his cup to the table and regarded the uninvited guest who was not quite uninvited sitting opposite him.

A young man.

Someone not merely shabby but filthy, yet whose weighty presence quietly filled the room.

Would even the Twenty Great Masters under Heaven possess such bearing? It was difficult to say for certain. Even the Murim Alliance Leader could not meet every master in Murim.

But one thing was certain...

None of the Two Divinities, Three Eccentrics, Five Masters, and Ten Greats could have possessed such presence at the age of the shabby young man seated opposite him.

The Taoist Sage of Heaven raised his cup again, moistened his lips once more, and spoke for the first time.

"May we unite above with the Way of Emptiness. Fellow seeker, your presence threatens to send Heavenly Unity Hall flying."

His voice as he softly recited the Taoist invocation was as gentle as his appearance.

CLINK.

The young man silently lifted his teacup, turned it about in his hands, then set it back where it had been. Was it because he had never tasted tea in his life? Perhaps tea was nothing more to him than water with a slight smell.

"This humble Taoist bears the presumptuous name Hyeoncheon, though he lacks the wit to deserve it."

Having watched him closely, the Taoist Sage of Heaven spoke again. Only then did the young man open his mouth.

"Jong... Jihang... is my name... Probably..."

The young man was Jong Jihang.

Jong Jihang's speech was not merely halting; his manner of address was exceedingly rough as well. And what did he mean, probably? Did he not even know his own name for certain? Was that truly the case?

Either way, who in Murim today could speak to the Taoist Sage of Heaven like that?

Yet the sage merely laughed good-naturedly.

"Hoho. Hearing you say 'probably,' I rather think you must indeed be the Solitary Sword's disciple."

"I believe he was the same, decades ago. He could not remember his own name either, and said just that. 'Probably...'"

Jong Jihang still offered no reply, only looking straight at the Taoist Sage of Heaven. The sage took another sip of tea before continuing.

"But why have you come alone?"