Chapter 71: Beauty Chouhui (4)
‘Old man.’
Even when I called out to the Demonic Master in my mind, he didn’t respond.
Reluctantly, I muttered to myself.
‘Sir, are you there?’
As my tone softened, a voice echoed inside my head.
‘Why are you calling me, you disrespectful brat? Old man, you say? You know who I am and still dare to call me that? If you were standing in front of me right now, I’d beat you into a rice cake.’
As soon as he appeared, the Demonic Master grumbled.
‘I apologize, Sir Demonic Master. The thing is, I need your help this time.’
‘How?’
‘From now on, I’m going to write poetry with my left hand. I’d like you to use my right hand to block any attacks that try to interfere with my writing.’
‘So you’re saying, you’ll control the left hand and I’ll control the right hand separately?’
‘Exactly.’
‘In all my life, I’ve never done something so ridiculous. Fine, I’ll do it. Do you only want me to defend?’
‘No. You need to counterattack as well, to disrupt her from writing quickly.’
‘Got it. That much is a piece of cake.’
The Demonic Master confidently agreed, but it still made me wary.
According to Nan Myeonggwak, when a soul possesses a body to use martial arts, its strength is weaker than in life.
If the Demonic Master controlled my right hand to fight, he might not be able to exert his full power.
Still, I had no other option.
There was no way I could fend off attacks and write poetry at the same time against someone like Chouhui, who had mastered the art of dual-focus technique.
Chouhui had trained to a level where she could move both hands independently.
That was the reason she had set this as the trial for Omugwan.
I opened my eyes and spoke.
“Shall we begin?”
“Do you even know which poem I was referring to?”
Her face was full of doubt, which made it amusing to watch.
“There may be many poems titled Untitled, but there’s only one most famous Untitled poem.”
Chouhui was so tense that, even with her face covered by a veil, I could tell she swallowed dryly.
“Isn’t it Untitled by the Tang Dynasty poet, Li Shangyin?”
Chouhui looked at me with eyes full of admiration.
Honestly, I wanted to applaud.
It was the first time in recent memory I’d seen someone who studied poetry this deeply, not just martial arts.
And at such a suspiciously young age, too.
“You certainly have a knack for impressing people, Young Master Yong. I’m genuinely impressed. But the question is, can you write that poem while defending against my attacks?”
“Well, we’ll only know once we try, won’t we?”
“Ihwa, bring the wooden swords.”
The maid Ihwa dug through something in the corner and brought out two short wooden daggers.
They were made of wood, about the length of a forearm.
“We’ll attack each other with these to prevent one another from completing the poem.”
“But what if neither of us manages to finish it due to being interrupted by attacks?”
After I pointed that out, Chouhui, thinking it a fair concern, placed an hourglass on the table.
“When all the sand has fallen, the one who’s written the most of the poem will be the winner.”
I grabbed the wooden dagger and took my stance.
With my left hand, I took up a brush and prepared to write Li Shangyin’s *Untitled* on paper.
The two of us began writing at the same time.
Chouhui allowed me to write the first line to confirm whether I truly knew the poem.
Meanwhile, she also began writing her own.
相見時難別亦難
동풍무력백화잔
Meeting is hard, parting is harder.
The east wind is powerless; all the blossoms have withered.
As soon as I started writing the poem properly, Chouhui launched her attack with the wooden dagger.
Tadadak! Tatatatak! Tadatadatak!
Even though her attacks came fast, I blocked them all while continuing to write the poem.
‘What is this? Who is this guy?’
Chouhui couldn’t help but be shocked.
She had trained in the art of dual-focus to write while attacking, but she couldn’t understand how I was able to move both hands independently.
She intensified her attacks.
Fan Yegok and the maid Ihwa, watching from the side, kept their eyes wide open, not wanting to miss a single moment of this bizarre scene.
春蠶到死絲方盡
납촉성회루시건
The spring silkworm spins until it dies,
The candle burns to ash before its tears dry.
I was writing the poem faster.
My handwriting showed not a single sign of disruption, to the point it seemed like I was entirely focused only on the writing.
In the room, the sound of the wooden daggers clashing echoed as rapidly as beans popping in a hot pan.
Suddenly, the wooden impact changed into the sharp ring of metal. Chouhui had infused her wooden dagger with inner energy.
Originally, she hadn’t planned to do so. But now that the situation was turning against her, she had no choice.
‘He’s under the effect of Dream-Soul Medicine and Spirit-Attracting Fragrance, so he shouldn’t have any internal energy. Sorry, but this is where it ends for you.’
Chouhui struck fiercely with her energy-infused wooden dagger. At that moment, I heard the cold snort of the Demonic Master in my head.
‘Hmph! Trying to play tricks, are we?’
He channeled inner energy into my right hand and parried Chouhui’s attacks.
Tiiing! Ting! Tang! Chiing! Ching! Chiiiing!
Chouhui clenched her teeth at the sight of me writing without even flinching in the face of her attacks.
‘This can’t be happening!’
曉鏡但愁雲彬改
야음응각월광한
In the morning mirror, I fear the change in my greying hair,
At night I recite poems and feel the chill of the moonlight.
Now, only one line of *Untitled* remained.
Both of us were writing at about the same pace, so it was impossible to predict the winner.
The technique Chouhui used in her attacks was the Roc Emperor Sword of the Hidden Saint Cult—an ascending martial art barely known in the world.
But Yong Hwarin blocked the Roc Emperor Sword as if he were completely familiar with it.
Perplexed by this, Chouhui continued attacking but sent a questioning look.
‘Who are you? How do you know the Roc Emperor Sword?’
Unless one knew the Roc Emperor Sword, it was impossible to preemptively counter its forms and take the offensive.
‘And on top of that, the Dream-Soul Medicine didn’t work either.’
No matter how skilled, when the Dream-Soul Medicine and the Spirit-Attracting Fragrance were mixed, one’s internal energy should become unusable. Yet this young expert had absorbed both and was still perfectly fine. It was incomprehensible.
蓬山此去無多路
봉산차거무다로
靑鳥殷勤爲探看
청조은근위탐착
Mount Penglai, where my love resides, is not far from here,
O bluebird, please fly there gently and bring back news for me.
Yong Hwarin and Chouhui were writing the final line of the poem.
Chouhui, knowing that Yong Hwarin only had just over one unit of internal energy, brought out one and a half units to strike him.
Normally, if you infused over half a unit of energy into a wooden sword, it would explode. But by channeling energy around the sword rather than directly into it, the sword didn’t break.
Of course, such a method required reaching the level of a master. Generally, it was only possible for those of super-first-rate rank.
Chouhui, still in the flower of youth, had achieved that pure and refined realm.
Meanwhile, Yong Hwarin was writing with his left hand while the Demonic Master blocked Chouhui’s attacks with his right. Because of this division, the Demonic Master couldn’t draw out his full power.
If he forcefully summoned a large amount of energy in such a distracted state, there was a high risk of entering Qi Deviation. He assumed the same risk applied to Chouhui.
So he refrained from drawing out more than one unit of internal energy.
But that was the Demonic Master’s mistake.
That small girl in front of him had used more than a unit of energy to unleash the Roc Emperor Sword.
The Demonic Master was overwhelmed by the energy. But he quickly shifted his technique, thrusting at Chouhui’s brush.
Ddadadadang!
In an instant, three moves were exchanged before the next form was executed.
Suddenly, Chouhui’s hand transformed into over ten separate images as she launched an attack.
The Demonic Master was shocked at the sight of the technique.
‘What is this girl’s identity? How does she know the Nine Nether Secret Phantom Hands?’
Recognizing the technique, the Demonic Master pulled his dagger back and shifted to a defensive stance. However, his retreat was a moment too slow, and the wooden dagger flew from his grip into the air.
Seizing the moment, Chouhui attacked fiercely.
Left with no choice, Yong Hwarin responded with the brush in his left hand.
Tatatatak!
Because he was using the brush to defend, he couldn’t write, and Chouhui caught up in the poem where she had been trailing.
Hwiriririk!
As the wooden dagger fell from the air, Yong Hwarin caught it with his right hand and shouted internally.
‘Sir Demonic Master! Please write the final line! I’ll handle the attack!’
Yong Hwarin switched to the right hand, and the Demonic Master took control of the left. The Demonic Master soon realized he was slightly slower, as he couldn’t fully control Yong Hwarin’s body.
Because of that delay, he was repeatedly pushed back by Chouhui’s attacks.
In battles between masters, even a half breath or a half beat could determine victory or defeat. So Yong Hwarin focused his attention on synchronizing his breathing.
Gripping the wooden dagger, Yong Hwarin launched the Soaring Dragon Emperor Sword and pressured Chouhui.
Starting from the first form, he unleashed a barrage of attacks, gradually pushing her back.
‘Just a bit more.’
At nearly the same time, both Yong Hwarin and Chouhui wrote the final characters “탐착 (探看)”.
Ttak!
Yong Hwarin’s wooden dagger snapped Chouhui’s brush in two, and Chouhui’s dagger likewise cut Yong Hwarin’s brush in half.
As their dazzling and brilliant exchange came to an end, a long silence followed.
The two of them looked at each other’s poems.
After a moment, Chouhui smiled faintly.
“I didn’t finish the last character ‘착 (看)’, but you also failed to write ‘탐착’. That means I wrote one more character. I believe this means I won.”
“I cannot accept that outcome.”
Yong Hwarin shifted his elbow slightly.
Beneath it, the table revealed two characters carved into its surface.
탐착 (探看)
They weren’t on the paper but engraved into the table.
At the moment the brush had been snapped, the Demonic Master had quickly written “탐착” onto the table instead. Though it sounded simple, carving characters into wood with a bamboo brush was no easy feat.
“My poem is complete. Surely you’re not going to argue that it doesn’t count because it wasn’t written on paper, are you? The trial only required that we complete the poem. No other condition was set.”
Chouhui had been just about to raise a protest like that, but was left speechless.
“You’re truly remarkable. I can’t help but yield. I’m in awe.”
Chouhui stood up and offered Yong Hwarin a martial salute.
“There is a reason I needed to win this, so I hope you’ll understand.”
“You may not believe this, but you’re the first person to ever pass the all gates.”
Though he had suspected as much, the confirmation that he was indeed the first to ever pass left Yong Hwarin surprised.