Reincarnated Sword Ghost

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Jeong-un walked straight toward Shin Soryeong, his ki sense sweeping over the martial artists around them.

All of them had impressive ki.

Shin Soryeong’s words were not wrong.

There were several martial artists here that, had they joined the Heavenly Martial Hall, would have boasted at least two stripes.

’Their faces are so pale.’

Jeong-un muttered to himself, not considering his own face at all.

Even the smallest outward appearance had complex reasons in this world.

’Just eating well and living well’ was a grossly insufficient explanation.

That was why most martial arts experts possessed clear and fair skin.

Circulating internal energy in the dantian naturally removed impurities from the body.

It was for a similar reason that martial artists who mastered powerful martial arts aged more slowly.

”......”

Everyone fell silent and stared openly at Jeong-un as he walked over with heavy steps.

It was a peculiar silence.

Those who had been lingering around the pavilion whispered quietly, watching—the kind of thing none of them would have dared.

Among those faces, Jeong-un read a few eyes that were rather strongly wary.

Even though they were all members of the orthodox faction and had no cause for grudges, they still looked at him that way.

He didn’t mind. He planned to gradually learn more about everything.

”Lady Shin, so here you were.”

Jeong-un greeted Shin Soryeong, who stood up to welcome him, with a light martial salute.

A gentle smile curved his lips.

”Ah... no, young hero Cheon. I’m glad you came. I was just thinking of introducing you to the others.”

Shin Soryeong answered with a bright smile, her sharp eyes softly arched into crescent moons.

Around them, eyes grew wide as they witnessed this.

Clearly, such an expression from Shin Soryeong was unfamiliar.

”A young master introduced by the usually reserved Lady Shin... It makes me wonder—who and where are you from?”

A man who had half-laid himself across the pavilion spoke up.

He blatantly looked Jeong-un up and down with a somewhat indolent gaze.

’Scions of prestigious sects are said to study the Four Books and Five Classics and etiquette since childhood, aren’t they?’

Apparently, not all of them did. Or, if they did, perhaps some just didn’t consider it important.

Either way, Jeong-un didn’t care.

Jeong-un made a martial salute and spoke, ”I am Cheon Pung of the Baek Sword Gate.”

His bearing was exceedingly polite yet disciplined.

His handsome features and solemn conduct gave him the air of a distinguished disciple from a renowned sect.

Some were so impressed that they let out small, unconscious sighs.

”Hmm...”

The man with the weary face tilted his head.

”And where did you say you’re from? Baek Sword Gate?”

”......”

Jeong-un didn’t answer.

The man’s words didn’t even seem to be expecting one.

The man straightened up a little, stared at Jeong-un, and spoke again.

”This... is hard to believe.”

”Hard to believe?”

Someone nearby echoed, and the man shrugged, continuing.

”Someone like that, just suddenly dropping in out of nowhere...don’t you think?”

”Young hero Zhuge.”

Shin Soryeong shot the man a stern look—completely different from the face she’d turned to Jeong-un.

”I can personally vouch for young hero Cheon’s identity. Besides, it would be laughable to harbor suspicions about someone who passed through Shaolin’s gates.”

At that, the youth surnamed Zhuge laughed broadly and waved his hand.

”No, no, my apologies. I didn’t mean it that way. To question a person’s identity? How absurd.”

”Then what do you mean?”

Even though Shin Soryeong pressed with a slightly sharper edge to her tone, he didn’t seem to mind—he just looked at Jeong-un and spoke again.

”I meant, where does someone of that caliber suddenly appear from? The martial world is ever mysterious. I’m simply impressed.”

Jeong-un gazed steadily at him.

The man’s white martial garb made his posture seem lazy, but his clear expression in the eyes beneath his thick brows was sharp.

’He’s smiling with his mouth...’

But those eyes were stiff.

The indolent tone hardly felt genuine.

From the way he continued to watch Jeong-un with profound interest, it couldn’t be.

’Zhuge...’

The surname was quite familiar to Jeong-un.

The chief strategist of the Heavenly Martial Hall was none other than Zhuge Cheon-woo.

He’d heard Zhuge Cheon-woo was the younger brother of the current sect leader.

Whatever the internal relationships, the youth before him must be of the same bloodline.

Now that he looked closely, there was a resemblance.

Then, the youth grinned at Jeong-un.

”Yes, I’m Zhuge Myeong.”

”So you are Young Hero Zhuge.”

With that, Jeong-un nonchalantly turned his head.

Whatever the youth’s real intentions, Jeong-un had little interest.

’There’s no way he figured it out.’

Jeong-un doubted that a mere rising star could see through a barrier placed by the Heavenly Martial Hall’s chief strategist himself.

After all, the General Affairs Department had said no one would ever recognize him.

That meant, regardless of martial arts level, literally no one could see through it.

That was the assurance given.

Jeong-un once again offered a polite salute to the gathered young martial artists around the pavilion.

”It is an honor to meet the heroes of the martial world.”

”......”

A faint smile appeared on the faces of the young martial artists watching Jeong-un.

His humility made a good impression.

”So Lady Shin vouches for you... The Baek Sword Gate, you said? I believe I’ve heard the name somewhere.”

”Isn’t your sect’s main gate in Yaizhou, Shaanxi?”

Someone asked, to which Jeong-un replied with a smile and a nod.

”We’re based in Jinan, Shandong. For someone of your travels, it’s not so far from where you mentioned.”

Of course, it was actually quite a distance.

But Jeong-un’s casual tone quickly lightened the atmosphere.

Soon, laughter and lively conversation mingled.

Thus, the topic shifted to various light discussions about the state of the martial world.

Perhaps it was because the group was all of a similar age; some spoke frankly about the shortcomings of their own lineage.

Such things seemed common and not taken too seriously.

Jeong-un quietly observed.

These were the young people with the most prestigious status in all of the martial world.

This, too, was a rare experience. He listened quietly to how they spoke and what they talked about.

Eventually, the commotion at the gates became the topic of conversation—the story of Shin Soryeong bowing to Jeong-un and considering him her benefactor.

So many people had seen it that word had spread across the sect in less than one shijin.

”He gave her insight just with a few words?”

”And just from watching a single duel?”

”Huh...”

”So that’s why Lady Shin...”

They all looked from Jeong-un to Shin Soryeong with similar expressions; it was hard to believe that someone their age could have helped her so.

But Shin Soryeong seemed undisturbed by their looks.

She appeared not to care whether they believed it or not.

In fact, she seemed more concerned that Jeong-un might be offended by it.

Then, a girl spoke to Jeong-un—Gongsun Yeong.

Despite her youthful face, she looked even younger than the other martial artists present.

”Then, young hero Cheon, your knowledge of martial arts must go very deep?”

”......”

The area grew briefly quiet.

Everyone was inwardly curious, but refrained from asking directly lest it seem uncultured.

Gongsun Yeong, however, boldly asked what they all wanted to know.

Jeong-un shook his head and replied.

”Not at all. I still have much to learn. It was sheer coincidence I was able to help Lady Shin as I did.”

”The Shin Clan Manor is famous for tying Shaolin’s fist-and-palm arts mysteries to the sword technique, creating its own celebrated independent martial arts. For an outstanding martial artist there to receive inspiration from a peer’s casual advice—aren’t you saying too much for it to be mere coincidence?”

Gongsun Yeong widened her eyes and pressed further, her tone very clear and precise.

Jeong-un momentarily turned his eyes aside, gazing into the distance.

’How tiresome.’

This wasn’t something he’d fabricated.

All he’d done was say a few words; it was Shin Soryeong who’d gleaned insight from them.

If anything, the questions should be directed at Shin Soryeong herself.

’Still, the reason they ask me is because they can’t really believe it.’

It was as if to question whether he truly had the ability to inspire such insight.

After all, in their eyes, Jeong-un was a disciple from a mid-tier sect.

Strictly speaking, Shin Soryeong was a far lesser martial artist than Jeong-un.

He could sense as much just by reading the ki.

That his few words provided the key to insight was likely due to that disparity.

’But there’s no way to say that.’

Although Jeong-un assumed a false identity, he didn’t feel the need to hide his martial ability.

He reasoned that there was no need to conceal his skill simply because he was hiding his identity.

Still, his modest behavior was intended to win their favor.

People, regardless of status or dignity, could be astonishingly simple, and would share things they wouldn’t otherwise say with those they liked.

These were people of rarefied status and, surely, worthy news would come from them.

That Jeong-un could sit with them, bearing their envious looks, was the very reason he patiently endured their company.

Jeong-un spoke to Gongsun Yeong.

”My lady, you must have, at least once, stood alone in the training hall at night.”

”... Certainly.”

Gongsun Yeong, though puzzled by the out-of-the-blue question, nodded. It was something any martial artist had likely experienced.

Jeong-un continued.

”Though martial artists are said to be sharp-eared, it’s still different from standing in utter silence, alone in a tranquil place. Even the breeze sounds unique in those moments.”

”So?”

Gongsun Yeong, now quite focused on his words, quickly asked.

”As you may have guessed, what I told Lady Shin was nothing special. She simply found herself in an exceptional circumstance at the time. That is why my ordinary words seemed extraordinary—to her, it was like the wind’s sound you once heard.”

”... Wow.”

Gongsun Yeong let out a small gasp, then nodded as if understanding, and didn’t press further.

Nor did anyone else.

’That dodged it well.’

He didn’t want to come across as arrogant or make a bad impression.

These were people raised as virtual royalty in their domains.

With such self-esteem, boasting would only draw suspicion, not favor.

The topic shifted to discussions about young martial artists of similar age.

”Most of the rising stars of the old sects are in the Heavenly Martial Hall these days.”

”I hear the Sword Dragon of Mount Hua hasn’t reached three-stripes yet.”

”What about the Wudang Prodigious Sword?”

”Hmph, his fame doesn’t live up to the rumors. They say he didn’t even win first place in a special test? Rumors can’t be trusted.”

Jeong-un silently observed, wondering what sort of martial world people born into power envisioned.

’Is a fondness for gossip truly a trait unique to martial artists?’

Just as he thought this, a familiar name popped up.

”What do you all think of that Annihilating One-Slash fellow?”

”Wasn’t he the one who took first place in the Heavenly Martial Hall’s special test?”

A hush fell.

Everyone had heard rumors, but little more.

Eventually, someone spoke up.

”To be honest, I don’t really know. Whether it’s winning the special test or surviving alone in the Divine Physician’s cave, it doesn’t mean he’s actually defeated notable people, does it?”

”Didn’t they say he took part in a couple of duels in the Hall?”

A snicker arose nearby.

”Cheon Hui? You mean that rootless vagabond swordsman? That guy’s reputation was overblown. They called him a ’Swift Sword’, but he lost even his breathing to Annihilating One-Slash.”

”There are too many so-called ’experts’ with nothing but a name—especially among our age group. Even the youngest two-stripes—have they actually fought a real expert?”

”That’s why verification is necessary.”

Jeong-un listened to such vivid assessments of himself with interest.

’What a rare opportunity.’

Because they were among themselves, the evaluations were quite unvarnished.

When else would he hear such things?

At that moment, someone abruptly cut in.

It was Peng Mu-gyeol.

He had been sitting with his massive sabre slung across his shoulders, silently watching the others from above.

Suddenly, he spoke.

”Verification isn’t necessary. I’ve faced him myself.”

”You have? You’ve met him before?”

Murong Song asked, surprised at Peng Mu-gyeol’s sudden intervention.

Peng Mu-gyeol nodded.

”We dueled. He was capable. Fairly arrogant, too. He probably considers everyone you mentioned beneath him.”

”So he’s that good?”

”If young hero Peng, says so...”

Everyone nodded.

Peng Mu-gyeol’s temper and martial arts were already well known.

For such a person to say this, it meant there was something to it.

Then someone abruptly asked, ”So who won?”

All eyes fell on Peng Mu-gyeol. Peng Mu-gyeol flinched, averted his gaze, and mumbled,

”We didn’t decide a winner. If I had to say, I was about half a step ahead.”

Unintentionally, Jeong-un snorted.