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Translator: uly
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: The Ten Thousand Rivers Single Source Art
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Yuk Jin-yang's gaze stopped at one spot.
Ten Thousand Rivers Single Source Art. The words, scrawled in red ink, caught his eye.
Unlike the other manuals with multiple copies on the shelves, there was only one volume of the Ten Thousand Rivers Single Source Art. When he pulled it out, the crudely bound book looked like it might crumble at any moment. The cover was smeared with red ink.
"They said manuals with ink smudges mean the originals are lost or damaged, making the true essence hard to discern, so examine them carefully."
Muttering to himself, Yuk Jin-yang carefully opened the first page. He quickly skimmed the preface, written in bold strokes.
—At fifteen (志學): I ventured into the martial world and pacified Huai Xi, finding no equal south of the Yangtze.
—At thirty (而立): After clashing with numerous warlords of the Central Plains and North of the River, I comprehended the profound principles of mutual restraint and generation.
—At forty (不惑): I dueled with experts beyond the western frontier but found no worthy opponent.
—At fifty (知天命): Reflecting on my life, I realized my martial arts were built from myriad connections, like ten thousand rivers converging into one. Thus, I named this enlightenment the Ten Thousand Rivers Single Source Art.
"What staggering confidence."
According to the preface, the Ten Thousand Rivers Single Source Art was the culmination of its creator reinterpreting and synthesizing the martial arts he had encountered in his own way.
As Yuk Jin-yang flipped through the manual, his gaze sharpened.
From surprise to astonishment.
Silence descended. The only sounds were the occasional rustles of turning pages.
Reading intently, Yuk Jin-yang couldn't help but exclaim in admiration at the author's marginal notes scattered throughout.
"To leave the draft untouched by revisions!"
The manual bore all the additions and corrections intact.
It laid bare the trial and error, the hardships endured in creating the art. Even experiences against various masters. All traces of his deliberations. It might look messy at first glance, but its value was immense.
It was truly an accumulation of a lifetime's功—accumulated merit infused with the ancestor's life. The legacy of a master who had dominated an era.
They said the footsteps of great masters often inspired descendants. There were numerous arts derived from retracing the lives of Damo or Zhang Sanfeng.
Yuk Jin-yang himself planned to create a martial art suited to his body if needed. This draft was more than sufficient as inspiration and reference for martial studies.
The joy didn't last long.
The Ten Thousand Rivers Single Source Art was not a complete manual. Key passages were smudged with ink, cleverly obscuring the essentials. Many forms were listed only by name.
It seemed excessive even for precautions against smuggling or to damage the original.
'Perhaps it was intentional by the creator.'
A prestigious family was fertile soil overflowing with nutrients. But it could also lead to complacency, turning one into a flower in a greenhouse. The ancestor who created the Ten Thousand Rivers Single Source Art must have guarded against that, erasing parts of the essentials.
Hoping descendants would gain enlightenment only after long, diligent practice.
'A message to keep advancing and delving deeper.'
That was his last stray thought. Yuk Jin-yang immersed himself in the manual once more.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The night deepened, but Cloud Sea Hall blazed with lights. It was the residence of its leader, Yuk Seo.
"Yuk Ryul has left?"
"Yes, my lord. He received a summons from the Five Harmony Alliance."
Yuk Seo listened to the information from his spy.
Five Harmony Alliance. Mulling the words, Yuk Seo nodded. With turmoil in the court shaking the realm, it was natural for the alliance's limbs to stir.
"Then another master must have been assigned."
"No. Instead of assigning a new teacher, they've permitted entry to Martial Valor Hall."
"What? Is the information reliable?"
"From the gatekeeper of Martial Valor Hall. It's certain."
Yuk Seo's face twisted.
His son, Yuk Ju-jin, had only gained entry to Martial Valor Hall after turning twenty.
Yet the neglected youngest brother's son had obtained the same privilege in just ten days. A profound sense of deprivation and betrayal welled up.
"And it seems the family head intervened. The scribe of the Steward's Office, Hwang Dal-pyeong, has been reassigned."
"Hwang Dal-pyeong. Ah, that promising youth said to have passed the examinations as a boy?"
The name was familiar.
A youth eyed by the Grand Steward, Choe Rim. Said to possess the talent to inherit his post and manage the Zhejiang Yuk Clan's coffers.
He had planned to attach him as a subordinate to his son, but the family head had disrupted those plans out of nowhere.
"Is the grandson of his old age that precious?"
Sighing, Yuk Seo lifted his wine cup. Even the sweet aroma of the So-hong liquor did little to soothe his mood.
"Ju-jin."
He spat the name softly. Yuk Ju-jin, seated to his right, bowed his head. Cold sweat beaded down his back.
"...Yes, Father."
"Do you still frequent the pleasure houses in Hangzhou?"
"How could I? Since that banquet, I've steeled myself and devoted entirely to training."
"Continue that way."
"Haha, of course. I won't cause you worry."
"Generously speaking, a dozen years. Perhaps a third of your remaining life. Until I inherit the family head position."
Yuk Ju-jin's face stiffened. The restrictions were harsher than expected.
Yuk Seo wore a scornful expression.
He knew exactly what his son was thinking. Raising his voice, Yuk Seo said,
"Don't entertain foolish thoughts—listen properly!"
"Yes, I'm listening."
"The outcasts chased from the family suddenly reclaim their share and settle in. Do you think your grandfather is one to change his mind lightly?"
"No."
"It means that brat Yuk Jin-yang has exceptional talent. If given enough time, he'll become unmanageable, so you must strive harder."
"All he's shown so far is clever talk about 'stillness amid motion'—mere verbal flourishes."
"And you were humiliated in the same arena."
Yuk Ju-jin's face flushed red. He didn't open his mouth to argue. He knew excuses here would only harm himself.
But he couldn't fully hide his emotions. His cheeks burned, lips twisted to one side.
Seeing this, Yuk Seo suppressed his anger with effort. Then, in a gentler tone, he called,
"Ju-jin."
"Yes, Father."
"Your grandfather is ruthless. Under the pretext of secret construction, he hasn't given me a proper position to this day, even as I near fifty."
"..."
"I've endured such humiliation. My remaining hope is you. Understand?"
"I'll keep it in mind."
Yuk Seo gazed uneasily at his obediently bowing son. His mind recalled the deeds of his ancestors.
When Yuk Mu-hyeok ascended as family head, he killed all rival siblings who vied for the position. Their entire families too. Even children were not spared.
The clan elders dared not stop Yuk Mu-hyeok.
It was in accordance with the Iron Root Laws of the clan. That was the justification. Also a declaration of confidence to weather any bloodbath.
Of course, the family head was unlikely to personally kill defeated descendants. They were his own flesh and blood, sons and grandsons.
But one could never know their true hearts. There was no guarantee the sons and grandsons wouldn't repeat the ancestors' deeds.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
After gaining entry to Martial Valor Hall, Yuk Jin-yang visited daily. For a full ten days, he minimized sleep and immersed himself solely in martial arts.
Fortunately, the results were good. He had succeeded in partially deciphering the Ten Thousand Rivers Single Source Art. His guess that solutions were hidden within the manual proved correct.
'Moreover, there were many other arts to reference beyond the Ten Thousand Rivers. Especially Moon Stream Subtle Steps—that was unexpected.'
It was no basic footwork to dismiss. Fundamentally footwork, yet encompassing light body techniques. Lesser sect novices might hail it as a peerless divine art.
Closing the Moon Stream Subtle Steps manual, Yuk Jin-yang slowly rose. Though confined since morning, he felt little fatigue. Thanks to the steady practice of the Moon Maiden Divine Art.
Opening the stone door of Martial Valor Hall, cool night air rushed in. Yuk Jin-yang spread his arms and inhaled deeply. His depleted mind and energy somewhat recovered from the stuffy room.
The respite was brief. He headed to the nearby training ground.
Despite the deep night, someone remained on the training ground, torches blazing brightly.
A peer in splendid silk martial robes.
Sensing the presence, the boy stopped training and turned. His youthful face faintly showed the distinctive features of the Yuk bloodline.
The boy stared at Yuk Jin-yang with a strange gaze. Clear contempt shone through. Wondering if he had words, Yuk Jin-yang didn't leave, and the boy spoke first, sneering.
"If you see your senior brother, you should greet him properly. What are you doing, you fool?"
"Who are you to demand that?"
"Looking like a pretty boy from the brothel, and dumb as one. Didn't we meet on Double Ninth Festival? No direct lineage junior ranks below you here."
With hands behind his back, the boy muttered to himself as he slowly circled Yuk Jin-yang. His up-and-down gaze was blatantly appraising.
"I'm Yuk Hong-seo. You wouldn't claim ignorance? Even cast-out houses teach the family genealogy."
The name rang a bell. On Double Ninth, the third son Yuk Gyun who insulted Dang So-so— this was his son.
In his previous life, they never crossed paths. Once Yuk Ju-jin ascended, he purged many. Yuk Hong-seo was among those beheaded.
Uncertain how to handle the overt hostility, Yuk Hong-seo struck first.
"You dared deceive the elders."
"First I've heard of it."
"You learned Moon Maiden Sword Art from your father beforehand but pretended it was new. And now you feign ignorance?"
Absurd words. Yuk Jin-yang chuckled unwittingly. Father and son were spitting images. Pitiful types who couldn't acknowledge others' realms, only envying.
'If we fight openly, will there be trouble?'
From the family head's temperament on Double Ninth, unlikely. Unless he incited grandson infighting.
It might even be an opportunity.
Martial families revered strength. Minor deviations weren't issues if rules weren't broken.
Especially against direct kin. Defeating Yuk Hong-seo here could impress his grandfather strongly.
Weighing pros and cons, Yuk Jin-yang calmly retorted,
"Did your father teach you that?"
"What?"
"For one raised in a prestigious house, your speech is crude."
His tone was even, but the content was not.
Yuk Hong-seo's face blanked momentarily, then twisted. Undeterred, Yuk Jin-yang added,
"We've traded insults, so shall we spar?"
Yuk Jin-yang spread his arms wide. A blatant pose of disdain. To Yuk Hong-seo, more insolent than any taunt.
Finally, the opponent's patience snapped.
"I'll rip out your tongue!"
With a shout, he lunged at precarious range. His light stomps were swift.
The first punch aimed at his jaw rose. The ki's ripple felt light.
'A feint?'
The moment he thought so, Yuk Hong-seo's arm arced downward sharply. A palm strike crashing toward his head.
Clang!
He swung his fist to counter. Ki fragments scattered from the colliding palm and fist.
Yuk Jin-yang recalled the art Yuk Gyun boasted about his son on Double Ninth.
Swirling Stream Chaotic Flowers Art. The standard fist art for most Yuk direct descendants.
"All you can do is block? Just as I thought, all talk!"
Ignoring the provocation, Yuk Jin-yang observed closely. Another charge. This time combo-focused. Flashy feints mixed in rapid strikes.
Despite light words, Yuk Hong-seo had skills befitting a prestigious heir. Not mastering all forms, but with solid foundation.
Blocking and countering at times, Yuk Jin-yang seized the optimal moment.
His arm traced a soft circle. Like a serpent soaring, wrapping clouds and peaks—an preparatory motion gathering power.
He had long seen through the Swirling Stream Chaotic Flowers Art's deceptive strikes confusing eyes and senses. A gap in the flow appeared.
Pure essence to counter variables. The principle of restraint. A firm blow nullifies illusions.
Yuk Jin-yang thrust his palm boldly.
Boom!
The ki wave on his palm swirled like a gale. Shattering the opponent's fluid flow in one go.
The first form of Ten Thousand Rivers Single Source Art: Soaring Serpent Riding the Mist.
"Urk!"
A strangled cry. Yuk Hong-seo, struck in the chest, flew back and hastily used landing arts. Bouncing up, touching ground fluidly—but it looked pathetic, not admirable.
Yuk Jin-yang waited for the dust to settle, then shifted stance.
From Ten Thousand Rivers Single Source Art to Swirling Stream Chaotic Flowers Art's basic form.
Imitation sufficed from moments ago. Not perfect replication of essence, but the goal was provocation.
Yuk Hong-seo's startled face crumpled. As if waiting, Yuk Jin-yang asked,
"Is this the proper stance for Swirling Stream Chaotic Flowers Art? Since we're sparring, I'd appreciate corrections."
Anger flooded Yuk Hong-seo's face.
"You dare!"
"I guess it is."
Yuk Jin-yang murmured calmly, then charged, fist extended. Yuk Hong-seo gritted teeth, swung arm to deflect, but follow-up strikes battered him. In Swirling Stream Chaotic Flowers Art style.
One demonstration sufficed to turn Yuk Hong-seo's furious glare to stunned dismay.