The Time-Limited Elixir of the Ruined Clan - Chapter 119

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

The Decline of a Great Family’s Terminal Years — Chapter 119

“Long ago, masters who saw through the many facets of Martial Arts left records of their insight. If you look at the earliest writings left by Master O, he states that in learning and cultivating Martial Arts, the eyes account for eighty percent. Some versions say seventy percent, but the point is that the eyes are paramount.”
Nam Gung Hwan spoke thus, pressing his index and middle fingers against both his eyes.
“When facing an opponent, you must see through their attacks; when learning from a master, you must understand what they teach. Now then—can a person who cannot see become a Martial Artist?”
The children hesitated. They’d naturally assumed the answer was no, but Nam Gung Hwan’s tone suggested something different.
“Can a person who cannot see become a Martial Artist?”
As the children wavered again, Nam Gung Hwan brought his hand down sharply on the table. Bang!
“Of course they can!”
“But how, if they can’t see……?”
A boy ventured the question carefully. Nam Gung Hwan did not reprimand him but continued.
“‘To see’ does not mean mere eyesight. It means ‘to know’, ‘to perceive’.”
If one can sense an opponent’s presence even without sight, if one can feel the subtle currents of Qi and defend against attacks or strike an opponent, that is enough.
“And beyond all that, no one has the right to arbitrarily judge whether another is or is not a Martial Artist.”
“Sir?”
The children’s eyes widened.
They were all children of renowned families, and even if they were not, they possessed martial pride in abundance.
They were acutely aware that they were different from the ignorant peasants tilling fields, and they could speak of it aloud.
“If you declare with a word that someone is not a Martial Artist, does that make them cease to be one? Or must they prove their status to you? Should they recount how many Martial Treatises they’ve read, which masters taught them, how diligently they’ve trained? Every last detail?”
“But… but……”
“And who gave you the right to make such judgment? Even the Leader of the Martial Alliance, even those called Sword Saint or Fighting King—none of them have that right!”
Nam Gung Hwan’s outburst caused the children to shrink back slightly, and inwardly, he sighed.
It had been decades since he and Dan Mok Cheon Gi broke the back of Blood Coral Valley—or more precisely, dampened their flame for a time.
Recently, the Martial Alliance’s covert intelligence networks had discovered that their embers had never truly gone cold.
These children would soon grow and face Blood Coral Valley again—not only them, but also allied with the Baek Do Meng, the Ma Cheon Gyo, and the Hek Cheon Ryeon.
What had been hardest when his generation fought was the mad charge of Blood Coral Valley’s fanatics; second-hardest was those who endlessly demanded proof of true Martial mastery.
Proof that one was a true Martial Artist who understood both strength and righteousness, proof one would swear never to betray.
But could a single oath dispel all that suspicion? It only made the oaths seem more hollow.
‘Suspicion Breeds Ghosts’

—as they say. And everyone understood why.
He knew why they acted this way and understood it himself. Once, he had even participated in it.
Like oil and water, or perhaps water and fire, when those who had been incompatible for so long gathered in one place and began to blend, how could there be no discord? How could one believe without reservation?
Yet the problem became unmanageable precisely because that discord sprang from the arrogance of thinking oneself qualified to judge another.
‘Even now, suspicious movements are being detected.’
Intelligence had reached him of men appearing in Yangzhou who seemed to be remnants of Blood Coral Valley, and he had quietly reinforced vigilance.
For now, only the leadership within the clan and a few representatives of the families participating in the Gyeong Hang Un Ryeon knew of this.
The promised period of peace was coming to an end, and what remained was blood, discord, and conflict. If only he could end the strife among allies—
If only he could reduce the errors of the previous generation, even slightly.
The children listening to him looked as though they had no idea what he meant.
Among the few who seemed to grasp something, half appeared unconvinced, and the other half……
‘Hm… ah?’
Nam Gung Hwan was taken aback. Dan Mok Ryeon was gazing at him with eyes brimming with emotion, nearly on the verge of tears, her gaze reading ‘Exactly!’
Yet his own grandsons wore expressions of utter confusion.
To have at least one child responding to him kindled a sudden warmth in his chest, and he felt moved to honor that faith in whatever way he could.
‘Well, conducting a lesson with just one scroll today seems incomplete, doesn’t it?’
While Nanjing and Zhejiang were closer to each other than most places, they were hardly neighbors.
When he counted the days until they might meet again after this Gyeong Hang Un Ryeon concluded, it would be at least next year before they could gather; wouldn’t it be better to teach them everything he could manage today?
Suddenly Nam Gung Hwan’s eyes gleamed. The children flinched.
“In any case, your duty is to protect the weak and revive your family. There is more you must learn for that purpose—writings by Master Cho on the Qi Formation and Array Technique, where he discusses the Innate aspect……”
Nam Gung Hwan continued his lecture, ignoring the children’s expressions of resignation, and even Dan Mok Ryeon’s look of mild bewilderment.

* * *

Nam Gung Gyeong Mu, the younger brother of Family Head Nam Gung Gyeong Hae, harbored thoughts similar to his nephew Nam Gung Seo Geon—though he himself did not yet realize it.
In other words, since Dan Mok Hyeon U had fallen into a Demonic Tribulation and his progress was inconsistent, Nam Gung Gyeong Mu felt they were in roughly similar circumstances and found comfort in a shared sense of fellow feeling.
Growing up as a direct heir yet falling short in achievement, becoming a burden to the clan—Nam Gung Gyeong Mu endured the knowledge that he was lacking compared to his nephews.
“Birds? If you’re talking about caring for animals, my Dan Mok Ryeon is the best at it.”
Nam Gung Gyeong Mu regarded Dan Mok Hyeon U with pale, searching eyes.
They were the same age and spent considerable time together, yet Dan Mok Hyeon U spoke of only three things.
Dan Mok Ryeon, Dan Mok Seong, Dan Mok Bi.
Never Sword Technique or other Martial Arts, never the hardships of being blood kin to a great clan, and certainly never how difficult those days had been while Nam Gung Gyeong Mu himself was trapped in a Demonic Tribulation.
The most animated response Nam Gung Gyeong Mu had drawn from him was about the Paradise Bird that he himself kept—

a creature named Jeong To.
“Does that girl… like animals?”
“I’m not sure if she likes them, but animals certainly take to her.”
The two young men had left the suffocating confines of the Nam Gung Clan Residence and were wandering through the streets of Yangzhou. The elders made no move to constrain two youths in their prime.
“I’ve heard that whenever she plays the flute, birds come flocking from all over the neighborhood.”
Dan Mok Hyeon U spoke with pride. Dan Mok Ryeon seemed unaware when she played—too focused on her music—but the moment she began to steady the melody, birds would arrive one by one from distant corners, alighting on the garden walls, tree branches, and eaves.
“That’s impressive…. Ah, would you like to go there?”
“Is that where you want to go?”
“No, I just heard it’s famous. They say you can see Shu Shu Lake from the third floor?”
Looking up at the tall pavilion, Dan Mok Hyeon U nodded readily.
The two of them—one carrying generous allowance money from his nephew and nieces, the other the second son of a great clan who had never known want—entered without hesitation and ordered the finest dishes available.
“If I may suggest, our chef takes particular pride in the Squirrel Fish—

our house specialty.”
“Squirrel Fish?”
“A celebrated Yangzhou delicacy. The fish is plump and fresh; we remove every bone down to the smallest rib, make thin slices without severing the flesh completely, and fry it until it’s crispy. Then we coat it with a sweet, tangy, spicy sauce and serve it piping hot….”
The server was still gesturing elaborately with both hands when Dan Mok Hyeon U decided what to order.
“Bring me a plate of that.”
“Will you have wine with your meal, sir?”
“We must leave early, so just bring tea.”
“Of course.”
Indeed, as Nam Gung Gyeong Mu had said, the view was splendid—the trees framing Shu Shu Lake visible all at once, their buds just beginning to swell with spring.
Before long, the server returned with the fried fish, its coating glistening and crackling audibly, topped with the sweet and spicy glaze.
“So that’s why they call it ‘Squirrel’ Fish! Dan Mok Ryeon, Dan Mok Bi, and Dan Mok Seong would have found it funny if they’d seen it.”

Dan Mok Hyeon U murmured wistfully. The way the fish was scored but left whole—fried skin still attached—really did resemble a squirrel. Nam Gung Gyeong Mu spoke in a placating tone.
“Once you’ve tasted it, if the flavor is good, I’ll ask our clan’s chef to prepare it for you.”
‘Does he care for his nieces so much?’
It was difficult for Nam Gung Gyeong Mu to fathom.
The truth was, he harbored something close to mutual contempt toward his eldest nephew, Nam Gung Seo Geon.
Nam Gung Seo Geon believed Nam Gung Gyeong Mu was a failure, yet knowing they were not so different in circumstance, he dreaded becoming the same. Nam Gung Gyeong Mu read that fear clearly in his nephew’s eyes.
As for Nam Gung Seo Jin, whose talents were far superior—Nam Gung Gyeong Mu could only fret endlessly, wondering whether the boy might regard him, his uncle, with contempt.

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