The Reformed Genius of the Sichuan Tang Clan - Chapter 55

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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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Episode 55
Dang Youxuan’s gaze fixed on Dang Shan as he climbed onto the Martial Arena.
Having built considerable renown through his participation in the Yongbong Competition, his mere appearance drew thunderous cheers.
“The Shadowless Viper! Look at that composed face!”
“I wonder how much stronger he’s become this time!”
“Didn’t he face Yun Han in the third round last time?”
“You should have seen that match yourself. In all my years, I’ve never witnessed such beautiful Flying Blade Technique—like petals scattering on the wind!”
Dang Youxuan lifted his brow.
The Myriad Heavens Flower Rain had been lost long ago.
Yet there were many other Flying Blade Techniques that resembled petals dancing through the air.
‘I haven’t even seen it many times myself.’
The Dang Clan’s Hidden Blade was endlessly sharp, but when wielded without murderous intent, nothing surpassed its beauty.
Especially the way it parried an opponent’s strikes while slowly encircling them—rather than piercing a Vital Point in an instant, it was far more dramatic and graceful.
Though the Dang Clan pursued a different direction than this gentle style of blade work, opportunities to witness it were rare outside the Yongbong Competition.
Dang Youxuan let a silent cheer roll around in his mouth, buried beneath the roar of the crowd.
‘Do your best.’
In the midst of ear-splitting shouts, Dang Shan gave a small nod.
As if he had heard Dang Youxuan’s words.
“Look there—it’s Yun Han!”
As Yun Han ascended the Martial Arena, cheers erupted nearly as loudly as they had for Dang Shan.
Dang Youxuan listened carefully to every last one.
You never knew—someone might reveal a weakness.
“Look at that confident stride!”
“They say despite being a Second Disciple, his Martial Prowess already surpasses the First Disciples.”
“A rising talent nurtured by Jongnam.”
“I’ve wagered a silver coin on the White Sword this time. If I were you, I’d hurry and place your bets before it’s too late. Jongnam seems fully prepared for the championship.”
“Damn it! You should have told me sooner!”
“Mmm.”
Yun Han glanced around, his expression growing strange.
For one whose five senses had been honed through countless years of cultivation, the jumble of noise would feel like whispered speech from right beside him.
For Dang Youxuan, who had now achieved Peak State mid-stage Martial Prowess, it felt much the same.
Seeing the shadow fall across Yun Han’s face, Dang Youxuan smiled with bitter amusement.
‘You too are a thorn in their side.’
A jagged stone recognizes another jagged stone.
Most sects welcomed prodigies with superior Martial Prowess, but they rejected geniuses who transcended the natural order.
Why should it be otherwise?
Every sect possessed fixed rules and systems; its members refined their conduct to stay within them.
Those who had grown comfortable in convention beyond necessity would cling to it, and naturally they would squeeze both themselves and others so as not to deviate.
Of course, this process was not necessarily evil.
Since a sect must serve as a solid foundation, it was only natural that its structure favored conservatism while its teaching pursued progress.
Small differences in clothing and lodging, education and treatment according to rank, granting greater opportunities to the more capable—all of these were part of that natural order.
Yet excessive conservatism and restraint bred decline.
The greatest flaw of convention was that those who discovered and exploited the system’s loopholes inevitably arose.
Endure the hardship and it passes. Do the same to the juniors who come under you, and that’s enough.
These were the easiest examples that came to mind.
So long as one was not branded incompetent, a reward would surely come after a certain time, however inconspicuous—like lying beneath a tree with mouth open, waiting for fruit to fall.
But whenever such people appeared, there would inevitably come prodigies who shattered that very expectation.
For the Jongnam Sect, that prodigy was Yun Han.
‘It seems Jongnam has many who are satisfied with the status quo. Poor luck.’
Unfortunately, those who stretched out and lay down never looked kindly upon those who beat the branches with a stick to gather the fruit.
In a situation where all receive the same thing, the only difference is when the fruit was obtained—yet they act as if their share had been stolen.
And they interpret this not as a difference in ability, but as defiance against the system itself.
If it remained mere individual thought, it would be fortunate. The problem was that many thought this way.
The First Disciples would never welcome disciples who threatened their position, and superiors would not wish for the order to be disturbed.
Thus it was plain that Yun Han had been slighted or pressured so as not to perform well.
Yet if the superiors, eager to raise Jongnam’s name through outstanding results, spared no support for him, that would be its own problem.
‘Visible favoritism inevitably breeds jealousy.’
Unless one had dedicated everything to Jongnam, one would not look kindly upon attention concentrated on a single person.
‘And yet people are calling him Jongnam’s rising talent to such an extent?’
The envy and jealousy surrounding him must already be sky-piercing.
Isn’t that how people are by nature?
We’re always drawn to the single opportunity meant for us over ten meant for others.
But if I receive one while others get ten, envy and resentment will breed in me naturally.
Few are the people who can perform at their fullest while bearing the weight of jealousy and spite.
They shrink into themselves, and mistakes that never plagued them before become commonplace.
‘Poor fellow.’
Dang Youxuan felt a kinship with Yun Han, along with a measure of pity.
Though their circumstances differed now, there had been a time when he, too, had endured the countless barbed looks that followed luminous fame.
Being human, it was never quite so simple to carry that weight as an eyesore.
‘Though I never gave it much thought.’
But Yun Han was not Dang Youxuan.
He could not fathom how heavy a burden the young man carried.
‘Tsk. The work of grown children playing their games.’
Dang Youxuan clicked his tongue silently.
‘Come now, boy of Jongnam Sect. You have my encouragement.’
Rarely did Dang Youxuan offer his support to a swordsman of another sect.
Yet he had offered it all the same.
Perhaps it was because someone was rooting for them?
Dang Shan and Yun Han ascended the Martial Arena with eyes visibly different from before.
“I shall learn from you.”
“I shall learn from you.”
The two clasped their fists in salute, then immediately assumed their ready stances.
“Perhaps you won last time, but this time will be different.”
“We shall see.”
Light words were their greeting.
Swish!
Yun Han drew his blade in a sharp arc.
The Jongnam Twelve Directions Sword—Continuous Cloud Flying Slash!
The strokes of his blade poured upon Dang Shan like clouds descending from the heavens.
Dang Shan twisted calmly to evade the vital points, deflecting the weaker strikes with his Hidden Blade.
“Did you forget? That swordsmanship falls apart the moment its rhythm breaks.”
Though he had lost the initiative, Dang Shan was no man to merely defend until the end.
Whirrr-ee-ee-eek!
As the Hidden Blade shot in from the side, Yun Han laid his sword flat to intercept it.
“……!”
But the blade, which had been flying in a straight line, struck the flat of the sword yet did not bounce away—instead it curved, grazing Yun Han’s ribs.
“Ugh!”
Yun Han let out a low groan and clutched at his waist.
Fortunately, only a mark had been left on his sash; no blood seeped through.
‘He showed considerable restraint.’
In true combat, the next strike would have been the end.
All of the Dang Clan’s hidden weapons were coated in poison, after all.
The thought of death made his hair stand on end, a chill running through him.
Yet he stood now on the Martial Arena, and the match was far from over.
Yun Han gestured with his chin toward the Hidden Blade embedded in the ground.
“Your supply of Hidden Blades is already thin—one fewer is a pity. Shall I give you time to retrieve it?”
“That’s something you’ll need more than I. Have you sufficiently recovered your strength?”
Boast for boast.
Dang Shan answered in kind and hurled another Hidden Blade.
The blade, released from his fingertips, traced a precise arc, pressing toward Yun Han from all sides.
Yun Han moved with composure, his footwork fluid as he deflected the crisscrossing blades.
Ting! Ting! Cling!
Each Hidden Blade struck the sword and tumbled slowly away like a withered leaf.
‘No. That’s not the end of it.’
The Hidden Blade was suspended in mid-air, gliding.
Once released from the hand, the Hidden Blade should have been difficult to recover—yet it had returned to his grasp.
It was as if the Hidden Blade possessed the freedom to fly on its own.
‘As though it knew no bounds.’
Any who dwelled in the Central Plains knew well the fundamental limitation of hidden weapon technique: once released, a blade could not be retrieved.
Without the art of Void Grasping, there was no remedy—or so one would think.
Yet limits exist to be overcome.
Wherever they stood, there were always those who collided with them.
Dang Shan chose to redirect the falling Hidden Blade by striking it with another Hidden Blade, altering its trajectory.
To calculate the precise angle at which to deflect a blade already in flight—how difficult that must be.
‘It was never easy for me, either.’
When handling three or more blades, his vision would blur; against an opponent he couldn’t easily defeat, he rarely resorted to it.
That deceptively simple yet brutally difficult method, Dang Shan had made wholly his own.
‘No wonder his blades are always scarred.’
Dang Youxuan recalled the particularly battered Hidden Blades that Dang Shan wielded.
‘It wasn’t merely a matter of rigorous training.’
If blades struck each other endlessly, it would be strange if they didn’t sustain damage.
Dang Youxuan could not tear his gaze from Dang Shan’s movements.
Using the blade to press the opponent backward, then recovering the embedded blade from the ground.
If the force was relatively light, he’d deflect it; if it carried great weight, he’d let it slide past.
Could he replicate those same movements if he were in that position?
No. Only Dang Shan could manifest such technique.
It was not Dang Youxuan alone whose mouth fell open in admiration.
“The Martial Prowess of the Shadowless Viper has risen again! Truly worthy of being called the pride of the Dang Clan!”
“Is this the legendary Myriad Heavens Flower Rain? What a beautiful attack indeed.”
Beautiful? Where exactly?
He wanted to challenge them on it at once.
Could one dismiss as merely beautiful—judged only by its form—the way he meticulously altered angles to pressurize his opponent with attacks that could emerge from anywhere?
Among the panic masquerading as composure, only Dang Youxuan gazed upon Dang Shan with a face alight with joy.
‘You fools. Look closely.’
Myriad Heavens Flower Rain required far more hidden weapons.
Could a mere handful of blades ever mimic countless poisons and weapons raining down like precipitation over time?
Even if one could not achieve the appearance of petals scattering, the flower rain itself could not be reproduced, nor the form of the flowers themselves.
If one sought such a thing, it would be faster to seek out Huashan or the mysterious sects of single-lineage transmission.
‘This is not Myriad Heavens Flower Rain.’
A martial art that dared not compare with Myriad Heavens Flower Rain, that no one else could imitate.
Though others could not perceive it, Dang Youxuan alone—he who had grown weary witnessing all the martial arts of the Dang Clan and had created them—could understand.
‘This is Dang Shan’s Unique Personal Martial Art.’
Sichuan Dang Family’s Reformed Prodigy
Author |
Lee Il-young
Publisher |
Samyang C&C Co., Ltd.
Editor-in-Chief |
Editorial Department
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Samyang C&C Co., Ltd. — Dream Books
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7F Gwangseong Building, 28 Bongeunsa-ro 114-gil, Gangnam-gu, Seoul
UCI |
G720:N+A063-20260615052
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Submissions |
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No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means without written permission from Samyang C&C Co., Ltd. — Dream Books.

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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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