I Obtained Guan Yu's Martial Arts - Chapter 73

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Obtained Guan Yu’s Martial Arts — Chapter 73
Life and Death Pursuit (5)
“Wow! Look at this flower. Isn’t it beautiful?”
Cho Seol bounded forward to the trumpet vine, drawing its deep fragrance into her lungs.
“Yes. The scent is lovely too. Beautiful indeed.”
On the road to Shaanxi Province, Cho Seol would stop now and then to admire the natural wonders—flowers, trees, the lay of the land.
She savored everything as though standing at the threshold of her final days.
Once she returned to Shaanxi, she would never see these things again.
“Yes. It is beautiful.”
Understanding the weight behind her wonder, Guan Hui answered calmly.
“Nh… nh…”
Zhang Cheng turned away, biting his fist as tears spilled down his cheeks.
The sight of her savoring these final moments—as if she’d been given a terminal sentence—was achingly beautiful and heartbreaking at once.
He wanted nothing more than to cry out that she would not die, that they would protect her, come what may.
‘But that would be a false hope, so don’t say it,’ he reminded himself.
Days ago, when Zhang Cheng couldn’t help but open his mouth, Huang Xiaoxiao had covered it and warned him.
Do not kindle hope with uncertain promises.
‘She’s right.’
Guan Hui and his company had a plan.
But no one could guarantee it would work completely.
Deng Buying, the Master of Hwa Jong Mun—known as One Sword of Candor—was an old man strict as iron when it came to rules and principle.
There was a chance he would reject every proposal and allow Cho Seol to… remain a sacrifice.
If it came to that, they would resort to force, but…
‘Three masters at their peak…’
Objectively, Guan Hui’s group had little advantage.
So they had to execute the plan flawlessly.
To ensure Cho Seol didn’t meet a meaningless death because of the vermin Cho Ryang.
‘Cho Seol… wait just a little longer. I will save you, I swear it… and I will confess my heart to you!’
Zhang Cheng dropped his fist from his mouth just as his hand clenched tight.
At that same moment, Cho Seol was trying to slip her arm through Guan Hui’s, only to be blocked by Huang Xiaoxiao.
The last four days of travel had been much the same.
Cho Seol would edge toward Guan Hui; Huang Xiaoxiao would cut her off.
Oblivious Zhang Cheng would laugh or weep, noticing nothing.
Thoughtless and foolish, even.
In a way, their youthful days were full of such colorful joy—fitting for their age.
But all things must end.
And their happiness, long or short as it was, drew to its close.
“…”
Cho Seol’s once-vibrant world drrained of all color.
It happened the moment they set foot in Xi’an, the provincial capital of Shaanxi.
Shadow descended heavily across her face.
The darkness seemed to steal even her beauty away.
“We’re… finally here.”
Her shoulders sagged with terrible weight.
Slumped shoulders. Trembling feet.
Gone was the figure of the martial artist known as Crimson Phoenix, exceptional even among the elite.
There remained only a young woman standing on the threshold of her short life’s final act.
“Thank you… for everything. Because of you, these past days were so wonderful.”
Cho Seol forced back her tears and smiled brightly.
It was like the last petal of spring, hanging from a branch.
Knowing it would scatter at the slightest breeze, yet clinging to the bough and shining to the end.
“Then… I should go now.”
She was turning away, her lips pressed tight, when—
“Let’s have a meal together.”
Huang Xiaoxiao caught Cho Seol’s hand.
She didn’t know.
Even Huang Xiaoxiao herself didn’t know why she’d done it.
It simply felt like she had to.
Like she had to hold this hand right now.
“… I’d like that. Truth is, I was hungry. How did you know?”
Cho Seol’s world bloomed back into five brilliant colors.
A violet sky and quiet marketplace streets.
Cho Seol flashed a radiant smile and tugged at Huang Xiaoxiao’s arm.
“I know a wonderful place to eat. Come this way.”
With that, Huang Xiaoxiao and Cho Seol departed first, while Guan Hui gestured to Zhang Cheng with a jerk of his chin.
“We should follow.”
“Sigh…….”
“……?!”
Guan Hui stared in shock as tears suddenly streamed down Zhang Cheng’s face.
What was this about……?
Had he eaten a poisoned mushroom on the way?
“How…… how beautiful, is it not!? The friendship of these two lovely women stirs this humble Zhang Cheng’s heart to its depths.”
“…….”
“I have already lost my heart to Cho Seol. Yet how does Huang Seol also shake my soul? Ah…… A man called Zhang Cheng. Burdened with such conflicts.”
As Zhang Cheng performed his private theater, Guan Hui’s true thoughts escaped his lips unbidden.
“……madman.”
* * *
Guan Hui and his party made their way to the Do Sak Inn, a place Cho Seol frequented.
It was run by a Jianghu martial artist with refined tastes, and was renowned for its Dao Xiao Mian noodles.
“Welcome! Please, sit right here!”
A serving boy, no older than Guan Hui, guided them with crisp efficiency.
The party settled at a four-person table, and the boy handed over a wooden tablet inscribed with the names of dishes.
“Ha! A mere inn, yet with a wooden menu tablet. Just like Beijing.”
The words of admiration tumbled from Zhang Cheng’s mouth.
Most inns relied instead on the servant’s memory and sales pitch rather than the expense of wooden tablets.
“Heh. It speaks to the innkeeper and chef’s skill. They earn good coin because of it.”
This was Xi’an’s finest inn, and the difference was unmistakable.
The space could seat a hundred souls comfortably, and figures in fine silks were scattered throughout the hall.
Of course, there were also quite a few martial artists with swords at their belts.
“Certainly a diverse crowd. I didn’t expect to see Tian Jiao here.”
Zhang Cheng’s gaze fixed on a giant seated not far away.
His chest muscles swelled like steel with each breath, straining against the seams of his robe.
Tian Jiao.
The only son of the Myeong Cheon Gak—a Dark Martial Arts sect based in Shaanxi Province—and one of its vessel masters.
“His Qi foundation is clearly extraordinary, no mere coincidence. I heard he recently broke through a barrier under instruction from some master…….”
Zhang Cheng murmured, his expression a blend of wariness and admiration.
Meanwhile, Guan Hui and his companions were engaged in a petty dispute over seating.
Since Zhang Cheng had claimed the spot beside Guan Hui, the two women contended over the single remaining chair with their quick hands.
“I’ll sit here.”
“No, I should sit. I’ve been here many times, so I should place the order.”
“They can take the order from over there too.”
“But this spot is closer to the serving boy.”
After a fiercely contested struggle, Cho Seol emerged victorious.
“Hehe. My hand was faster.”
Such trivial, meaningless contests naturally favored Cho Seol, who wielded a quick saber.
“Tsk. Zhang, get over there.”
“Eh? Wh-what—stop pushing! Oof!”
Caught off-guard, Zhang Cheng tumbled into the neighboring seat.
Huang Xiaoxiao now claimed the right side, the spot where Zhang Cheng had sat beside Guan Hui.
“Ah…… an awkward arrangement.”
Zhang Cheng, who had missed his chance in the women’s struggle, shook his head with a rueful expression.
‘Yet I already belong to another.’
To think they fought so hard just to sit beside him.
Truly a touching affection.
“I am no reed to be swayed…….”
“……?”
As Zhang Cheng muttered to himself, the party—led by Cho Seol—placed their order for food and wine.
Soon, a lavish spread was laid before Guan Hui’s table.
For the past four days they had subsisted on dried meat and Qi Cultivation Pills while sleeping rough, so Guan Hui had ordered generously.
“Let us eat.”
It was just as they were savoring various Mountain and Sea Delicacies, with Dao Xiao Mian taking pride of place.
“Whoooaa!”
“He won again!? That’s incredible!”
Cheers erupted from the table where Tian Jiao’s group sat.
Turning to look, Guan Hui saw two men seated across from each other at the table, their arms locked together as they exerted all their strength.
“What is that?”
Guan Hui tilted his head, seeing the spectacle for the first time.
“Ah, that’s called Arm Wrestling.”
Zhang Cheng explained after tossing back a cup of wine.
Arm Wrestling.
In the common parlance of the streets, it’s a test of strength between two people. They clasp hands and pit their power against each other—whoever forces their opponent’s hand down to the table wins.
In the Black Path martial world, where any real competition naturally escalates to a life-or-death struggle, it was a kind of simplified bout often used to settle disputes.
“In inns like this, they often wager the cost of drinks on the outcome,” Zhang Cheng added.
Barely had he finished explaining when fresh cheers erupted.
Guo Zhongshan, a man of solid, muscular build, had bent the wrist of yet another challenger.
“Aaaghhhh!”
“Hahahaha! Master Guo has now won four consecutive bouts!”
“When it comes to raw strength, Guo Zhongshan’s your man. Guo Zhongshan, and you’re talking about power!”
“Truly remarkable!”
Guan Hui, watching intently, furrowed the space between his brows.
“That’s rather brutal.”
He’d been told it was a simplified bout to avoid serious injury, yet Guo Zhongshan’s opponent had an arm badly swollen and bruised.
Among the casualties from his fifth victory, some had suffered broken arm bones.
“…Well, I suppose customs vary from place to place, don’t they?”
Zhang Cheng gestured toward his companions, who were staring in that direction.
“Come now. Let’s focus on our meal. There’s no need to get tangled up in this.”
The group nodded and tried to turn their attention back.
But then.
Crash!—
“Kyaaahhh!”
This time the table shattered, and Guo Zhongshan’s opponent screamed in agony.
The bones in his wrist, twisted through the Arm Wrestling hold, had been pulverized to dust.
“This is what happens when you pick a fight without knowing your opponent’s level. Challenge someone without thinking, and you get what you deserve,” Guo Zhongshan said coldly.
Far from apologizing, he wore an arrogant expression, pulling up one corner of his mouth in a sneer.
His smug look made it painfully clear he had done it on purpose, even though he could have won easily.
“His technique is excessive.”
It was at that moment, as Guan Hui clicked his tongue at such a shameful display, that—
“Unhappy about something?”
Guo Zhongshan’s head snapped around, and his eyes met Guan Hui’s.
“When men play together, injuries happen. Why are you whining like a woman about it?”
……
At this blatant provocation, Guan Hui’s eyebrows twitched sharply.
“Well, watching you prance around with two courtesans hanging on your arm, you look like some clueless young lord. I’d say you should restrain yourself a bit.”
Guo Zhongshan fingered his Sword Token and let out a sinister laugh.
The scar along his mouth curved like a serpent, sending a chill through the air.
“If you get beaten down in front of those girls, won’t that be shameful? You’d better keep that little trinket of yours in check. Wouldn’t you say?”
“Krahaha! That’s right, brother!”
“Krehehe! Exactly right, sir!”
The hulking thugs who appeared to be under his command burst into mocking, exaggerated laughter.
Judging by their shameless antics, this clearly wasn’t their first time working this routine.
“So? Want to get heated and try a match? I’m curious whether you can pull off such manly amusement outside of playing with those girls. Your nerve’s probably already shriveled up anyway.”
“Krahaha!”
“Krehehe!”
The group exchanged another round of insults and jeers.
A slight smile crept across Guan Hui’s otherwise impassive face, and
“……No. Don’t. Please don’t do this,” Zhang Cheng shook his head urgently, sensing the danger.
But the arrow had already left the bowstring long ago.
“That wrist.”
Guan Hui tilted his chin arrogantly upward, then jerked it slightly.

“Looks so fragile I could snap it in two.”
* * *
Guo Zhongshan of the Tiantai Sect had harbored that intention from the very start.
From the moment Guan Hui and his companions stepped into the inn, his gaze had fixed on the four of them.
It grated on him—this insufferable young lord with a handsome face, trailing two women of breathtaking beauty as though they were mere ornaments at his side.
Here he was, a martial artist of considerable skill with an impressive background, and yet not a single woman attended to him.
The sight of that courtesan-faced fool flaunting his companions kindled a hot, bitter resentment in his chest.
He wanted to make that pompous bastard pay, by any means necessary.
More than anything, he wanted to see those two women walk away from him, their faces etched with disappointment.
Who knew?
Perhaps they might be drawn to the raw masculine strength that Guo Zhongshan possessed.
“You’re going to regret this. I’ve never lost a Wrist Lock once.”
To Guo Zhongshan’s sneering provocation, Guan Hui replied with perfect calm.
“With that wrist of yours?”
“…This bastard.”
Guo Zhongshan’s already ugly face twisted further—provoked, he’d instead been provoked.
“Fine. I’ll pulverize that wrist of yours, grind it to powder.”
Guo Zhongshan snarled like a beast, baring his canines.
“Now then, shall we begin? The moment this feather touches the table is when we start!”
One of the inn’s patrons released the feather.
The feather drifted lazily through the air before settling onto the table where the two men’s forearms met,
Crash!
With a thunderous boom like thunder itself, splinters from the shattered table erupted in all directions.
“What—what?!”
“H-how is this even possible?!”
The faces of all who witnessed the Wrist Lock contest drained of color in shock.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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