The World’s Greatest Junior Martial Brother - Chapter 28

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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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Thousand-Year Disciple (28)
Seonji Ujikji Gyejaseung (The one who knows the winding path from the straight wins)
The Woomun Family fighters, who had been cleaving through the tea fields like a wave, were forced to halt in their tracks, sensing some kind of aura ahead.
Something is stirring. The endless sea of green sways in silence, yet somewhere ahead, a power beyond imagination is about to lash out.
Like the calm before a storm.
Gulp―.
Just as someone’s dry swallow rang through the field like thunder!
Thrum-thrum-thrum-thrum-thrum―.
Footsteps shaking the earth thundered from every direction, and in the blink of an eye, hundreds of Taoist adepts appeared and surrounded the Woomun Family fighters.
“Qing… cheng.”
Just as Woomun Jeonggi clenched his jaw, a Cheongnyeojang came flying from somewhere like lightning and stabbed into the ground in front of the Woomun Family fighters.
Bang!
A blast that seemed about to tear the earth apart, and a wave of green spreading out like rolling water.
Swoosh-swoosh-swoosh―.
As the Woomun Family fighters flinched at this pressure, both beautiful and terrifying, a white-haired old man floated down through the air, folding the space in half as he landed before them.
Flutter―.
An old Taoist in a robe with the blue peak emblem of Qingcheng clearly embroidered across the chest. Fourth-Generation Disciples bear nine peaks. Third-Generation Disciples bear eighteen. Second-Generation Disciples bear twenty-seven, and First-Generation Disciples bear thirty-six.
But this Taoist’s robe carries thirty-six peaks plus a drifting cloud, which means he stands on the same level as the Sect Leader.
“W-what? Could it be?”
As someone let out a low cry, a massive, towering old Taoist spoke up, his voice as booming as Woomun Jeonggi’s.
“This poor Taoist is Huo Yunzi of Qingcheng.”
A provocation that went beyond mere dispute!
What madman of a Taoist would hurl a Cheongnyeojang without a word of inquiry, and how could he speak casually no matter his age?
But if he is Huo Yunzi, it makes sense.
That was the sort of man he was.
Huo Yunzi was the senior brother of Huo Qing Zhenren, the Sect Leader of Qingcheng, and was said to be the strongest Taoist in Qingcheng. Yet what made him famous was not his profound martial learning, but his hot-tempered nature.
He could not bear to see injustice, and once he decided something was right, he pushed it through to the very end. Because of this fiery temperament, the Sect Leadership, which should have passed to him as the eldest, went instead to his junior, Huo Qing Zhenren.
That is why the nicknames attached to Huo Yunzi were “Seedling-Pulling Taoist” and “Mad Taoist.”
“Seedling-Pulling” comes from the Balmyo Jojang saying, which describes the impatience of pulling up rice seedlings to make them grow faster, while “Mad Taoist” means one whose conduct strays from righteousness and who rages like a madman. From these names, one could easily see how the world regarded Huo Yunzi.
Yet he carried himself with dignity, no matter what the world chattered about him.
Because he believed his path was the right one.
Thunk!
Huo Yunzi, his hand resting on the Cheongnyeojang that had sunk into the ground, opened his round, glaring eyes.
“Why do the people of the Woomun Family come to our Qingcheng Sect in such a crowd, without so much as a warning?”
Hostility. Fury. A killing intent so clear one could almost touch it.
But he could not answer an old Taoist past eighty in the same manner, so Woomun Jeonggi clasped his fists respectfully.
“It has been a long time, Taoist Huo. I’m not sure you’ll remember me, but I am Woomun Jeonggi of the Woomun Family.”
“I asked why the Woomun Family came to Qingcheng!”
Bang!
A manner more rude and arrogant than a common street ruffian’s. Could this truly be a Taoist who pursues the good?
Naturally, Woomun Jeonggi’s brows arched like a bow, and the others of the Woomun Family hardened their faces like stone.
When it comes to a fiery temper, Woomun Jeonggi was no lesser. No, it was precisely because of that fiery temper of his that he had not stepped out of Gwijoo.
Once he left Gwijoo, there was no telling when he might stir up trouble.
“Hoo.”
Woomun Jeonggi drew a breath to steady himself and turned his head.
“My youngest said it once: even three counts of holding your tongue will keep you from murder.”
There was no booming soliloquy. No, this was a blatant aside, meant for the audience.
Naturally, Huo Yunzi’s brows arched like a bow, and the others of the Qingcheng Sect hardened their faces like stone.
“The reason we have come to visit your Gwimun is…”
“Do you come here believing the baseless rumor that Qingcheng attacked that wretched Woomun?”
Woomun Jeonggi swallowed hard.
‘Two.’
“Since we want certainty about everything, we must clarify right and wrong…”
“Has Qingcheng lost its mind, that we would attack a pathetic family like the Woomun? A house that would topple on its own if left alone?”
He had held back at first, so this makes three.
Knowing well that his father’s patience had reached its limit, Woomun Hanung had hoped Huo Yunzi would not provoke him further. But this hasty Taoist, who pulled up seedlings to force on a rice crop that grew too slowly, cruelly trampled Woomun Hanung’s hope.
“How dare a rabble like the Seven Families come into the courtyard of the Nine Sects and cause such a ruckus?”
“I see.”
Woomun Jeonggi’s answer was unexpectedly calm.
But the words that followed were hotter than an active volcano.
“A father who has buried a child in his heart will stop at nothing.”
Woomun Jeonggi let out a low growl, like a tiger.
“Keep that in mind before you flap your lips, old Taoist.”
“How dare this man!”
Chhhak—.
The Qingcheng disciples drew their swords on Woomun Jeonggi in unison. Huo Yunzi was the senior brother of the current Sect Leader, Huo Qing Zhenren, which made him the highest-ranking elder of Qingcheng Sect, save for the Elders themselves.
To call such a man an old Taoist was an insult, and it was only natural that the Qingcheng disciples were seething.
Shuk—.
Huo Yunzi raised a hand to hold back his disciples and stepped toward Woomun Jeonggi.
“I’ll keep this brief. Take your band of fools and get off Qingcheng land, now.”
Woo-dduk—.
Woomun Jeonggi clenched his fists.
“I’ll keep this brief as well. Why did you attack my family’s estate?”
“Gah!”
Bang!
Huo Yunzi stamped his foot and let loose a roar.
“This is your last chance. Take those rabble and leave, or I won’t let you go!”
“If that is your answer…”
Woomun Jeonggi stepped forward slowly and thrust out his fist.
“Then so be it.”
Kwarrung!
He flung both arms wide, and a massive storm surged forth and rushed toward Huo Yunzi.
“Not a chance!”
Kwa-deu-deu-deuk—.
Huo Yunzi, as if he had been waiting for this, lunged forward and interlaced his fingers with Woomun Jeonggi’s hands as they came at him unhindered. A smile spread across his face, so vivid it was cruel.
Tok—!
The crimson killing intent that spilled from Huo Yunzi fell onto the tea field, thick with green, and gradually spread outward. In the end, it dyed the deep-blue Thirty-Six Peaks of Qingcheng entirely red.
“Kukukuku.”
Wearing a grin so monstrous it was impossible to believe he was a Taoist devoted to goodness and purity, Huo Yunzi put his strength into it, and the upper part of his Taoist robe burst apart with a pop.
Bulk-bulk!
How could this be the body of a man in his eighties?
Huo Yunzi had roused every muscle in his body, his biceps and triceps swelling like the Buddhist Guardian Kings. He pressed with brute force, and Woomun Jeonggi, reputed to possess the strongest arms in the Martial World, was forced to give ground.
Kkwa-kwa-kwa-kwa-kwang!
Smoke curled up from their clasped hands as though they had caught fire, and just as Woomun Jeonggi’s knees began to slowly buckle—
“Woooooooh!”
Pak!
This time it was Woomun Jeonggi’s robe that tore apart, revealing his powerful musculature in all its majestic glory.
Kwa-deu-deu-deuk—!
Huo Yunzi’s stance shifted again!
The two were not merely testing strength. Through their clasped hands, each was trying to crush the other into submission with his own brute force and internal energy.
Pure strength and inner power!
Chiiiiik—.
Not only their pressed palms but their entire bodies began to exude a hazy white smoke, and the Qingcheng Taoists and the people of the Woomun Family clenched their jaws.
They were both pushing their physical strength and inner power to the very limit.
It was a clash so extreme that whoever lost might be bedridden for the rest of his life.
Woooooong—.
It was like a massive elephant and a giant bear facing off in a narrow alley, neither yielding an inch.
The outcome could go beyond a total defeat for either, even to the point of costing a life, yet Huo Yunzi and Woomun Jeonggi seemed intoxicated by the raw power of human flesh and paid no heed to anything else.
Kwa-ji-ji-ji-ji-ii—.
Just as both Woomun Jeonggi and Huo Yunzi’s knees buckled once more and their contest rushed toward the disaster that had been foretold, a single leaf drifted down silently between the two of them.
Pak—!
Neither of them had said a word, yet both were thrown apart.
“Kuek!”
“Kueok!”
Woomun Jeonggi and Huo Yunzi were flung backward, spitting out mouthfuls of blood, then sprang up like coiled springs and charged at each other once more.
Shuush—!
Cha Ta. Daeji Seon. It was a fist that read the opponent’s attack trajectory and slipped in precisely between their strikes, a flawless counter.
The problem was this.
It was Dongsi Chata!
Huo Yunzi and Woomun Jeonggi had both reached the summit as masters of fist and leg, so each perfectly grasped the path of the other’s punch and drove in his own attack.
Crack-crack-crack!
The two men’s heads snapped sideways at the same instant, and they flew into the air before slamming into the ground.
“Cough! Hack-hack!”
Shoving against the dirt, Huo Yunzi pushed himself up onto one elbow and hacked up blood as black as soot.
“Grand— Grand Pavilion Lord!”
To an onlooker it might have passed for a friendly sparring bout, but the two of them were fighting for their lives. The black blood Huo Yunzi had spat up was a sign of grave internal injury.
If this fight drags on…
“How about it?”
Woomun Jeonggi wiped the thin thread of blood from his lip with the back of his hand and burst into a triumphant roar of laughter.
“You can’t match me in strength, so why don’t you draw that pathetic sword of yours?”
“Don’t talk nonsense, you whelp.”
Huo Yunzi forced himself to his feet and lifted his chin.
“If Qingcheng were to level a sword at some unarmed worm from a secular sect, the brothers of the four seas would laugh us to scorn.”
Clenching his fist once more, Huo Yunzi shouted.
“Let me show you in person that a Qingcheng fist is more fearsome than a sword.”
“Good.”
Bang! Woomun Jeonggi stamped the ground and squared his shoulders.
“Right here, I’ll beat that old Taoist and his lackeys to death, then march straight to Sangcheong Palace and put that idiot Huo Qing Zhenren beneath my boot.”
“How dare you!”
“Calling the Sect Leader that with your filthy mouth!”
The Qingcheng disciples sheathed their swords and surged forward as one. Having trained alongside Huo Yunzi to convert every Qingcheng sword art into fist technique, they were more at ease brawling bare-handed than with steel.
The Taoists of Qingcheng charged in, two bare fists enough to grind a thousand-geun boulder to powder, and the men of the Woomun Family, bear-steady and tiger-fierce, came roaring out to meet them.
“Victory!”
At Woomun Jeonggi’s cue, Woomun Hanung and the rest of the Woomun Family, who had been rushing forward, stopped dead in their tracks.
Seonji Ujikji Gyejaseung
(He who knows how to take the near path by way of what looks like a long detour wins.)
Charge!
Exchanging resolute glances, the Woomun Family men linked arms and advanced against the enormous number of Qingcheng Sect Taoists.
“Woooaaaah!”
“Fight, clash, and break them!”
The wiry man who had been surveying the field flexed his fingers open and closed, snickering.
Tea bushes stretched green in every direction, so both forces lay as plainly exposed as the palm of the Buddha, and the whole field looked like a game of Sanggi
(Elephant chess: Janggi)
as he watched the decisive clash in the green shade. He let slip a whisper red as blood.
“Your chess pieces devour one another just like that.”
The wiry man whispered with a scheming smile.
“From now on.”

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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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