The Terminally Ill Young Master of the Baek Clan

Chapter 22: Wishing To Get Closer (3)



Chapter 22: Wishing To Get Closer (3)

Baek Ha-jun charged at Yi-gang first.

Did Yi-gang give up the first move because he’s stronger? Moyong Jin clenched his sweaty palms and widened his eyes in astonishment. He could not even afford the luxury of blinking, for fear of missing a single moment.Updat𝒆d fr𝒐m nov𝒆lb(i)n.c(o)m

What he did not know was that just as Moyong Jin feared Moyong Tak, Ha-jun was also afraid of his older brother.

Considering that the age difference between Yi-gang and Ha-jun was only two years, it was quite astonishing. Unlike Ha-jun, who was hailed as the greatest genius of the Baek Clan, Yi-gang was known to be frail.

However, Yi-gang had been sharp since he was young. Thanks to the experiences from his previous life, he matured early. To Ha-jun’s eyes, Yi-gang seemed much older than just a two-year gap.

That was why he dared not defy his older brother’s command.

The words, “Give it your best.”

Yi-gang tried to block Ha-jun’s sword with a horizontal swipe, but that alone was insufficient.

Ha-jun’s wooden sword swayed as if it were made of rubber. The Heaven’s Shadow Sword Technique directly struck Yi-gang’s ribs.

Snap—!

Even though Yi-gang managed to deflect some of the force, the sound was still quite alarming.

Yi-gang exclaimed and was flung backwards.

“…”

Moyong Jin’s mouth dropped open in shock.

“Brotheeer!”

However, no one could have been more surprised than Ha-jun.

Dropping his wooden sword, Ha-jun rushed over to the fallen Yi-gang.

“Aaaagh! Brotheer!”

No one could have ever imagined that the usually calm Baek Ha-jun could scream like that. Ha-jun grabbed Yi-gang’s shoulder and shook him.

“Ugh, ugh. Let go.”

“Are you okay? I’m sorry!”

“What do you mean sorry? I said let go. Ugh.”

Struggling, Yi-gang managed to get himself up and heaved a dry retch.

As Moyong Jin watched, he felt drained of energy. He had not expected a legendary fight, but this was just too anticlimactic.

Yi-gang’s skills were exactly as they appeared to be. It was not that he was ignorant of swordsmanship, but he was no match for Baek Ha-jun’s sword.

For a moment, thinking of Yi-gang as a martial master felt foolish.

“I must have hit you too hard.”

“It was me who said to give it your best.”

“Did I break your rib?”

Ha-jun’s worry was understandable. Yi-gang cautiously touched his ribs, just to check.

“Hmm, I’m fine.”

“Really?”

“Look, not even a bruise.”

True to Yi-gang’s words, his side was completely intact. Given the impact he had felt on his hand, Ha-jun tilted his head in confusion.

Yi-gang smirked and said,

“Let’s spar again.”

“…Huh?”

“Why? You don’t want to?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to…”

It seemed pointless.

Baek Ha-jun just could not bring himself to say it.

“If you don’t mind, pick up your sword.”

“…”

“Hurry up.”

Since his older brother seemed fortunately fine, Ha-jun had no choice but to pick up his sword again.

Watching them, Moyong Jin simply slumped down in disbelief.

For reasons unknown, Yi-gang, seemingly unharmed, immediately requested another spar.

‘What in the world is he thinking?’

A spar only held meaning if the opponents were of somewhat equal skill. He could somewhat guess what was going through Yi-gang’s mind.

‘Perhaps he’s trying to hone his swordsmanship through sparring since he lacks the basics?’

Certainly, sparring can significantly aid in improving one’s sword skills. However, employing such a method would not yield any substantial results.

You needed an opponent of comparable skill, a robust body that could engage in real combat without getting hurt, and most importantly, an excellent master who could provide advice on the results of the spar.

From Moyong Jin’s perspective, Yi-gang had none of these.

“I’m, I’m going.”

“Like I said before, do it properly.”

If merely getting hit by a wooden sword made one stronger, then there would be no novices in the world.

The sparring resumed once again.

This time, Ha-jun’s movements were slightly slower.

However, as soon as Yi-gang shouted at him to take it seriously, he instantly gave his all.

Clang—

Yi-gang managed to block Baek Ha-jun’s downward swinging wooden sword.

At the surprising turn of events, Moyong Jin’s eyes widened for a brief moment. As expected, Ha-jun’s wooden sword struck Yi-gang’s solar plexus this time. The initial attack seemed to have been a feint.

“Kuhuk!”

“Uaack! Brother!”

Unwearied, Ha-jun let out a scream similar to the one he had given a little while ago.

Moyong Jin’s eyes narrowed in concern. Being hit at the stomach must have been extremely painful.

“Are you okay?”

“Cough, ah, I’m fine.”

Yet, Yi-gang once again managed to stand up. For someone considered frail, his tenacity was indeed commendable.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, Yi-gang made a proposition that surprised Moyong Jin.

“Let’s do it one more time.”

“What?”

Seeing the flustered Ha-jun, Yi-gang pushed his luck further. Unable to watch any longer, Moyong Jin intervened.

“It’s nonsense.”

“Oh.”

Yi-gang turned to look at Moyong Jin, who felt somewhat shrunken and then said,

“There’s such a difference in skill level. It’s pointless to continue sparring.”

“Respect your elder.”

“…What?”

“Didn’t we talk about this last time? You should use honorifics.”

“Par… don me.”

Why did he say “pardon me”? Moyong Jin barely resisted the urge to slap himself.

“Anyway. It’s a needless struggle… sir.”

“Hmm, I see it differently.”

“Ha! What do you know about swordsmanship? At this rate, you’ll never beat him in your life. Ha-jun probably thinks the same… sir.”

Yi-gang glanced stealthily at Ha-jun. Ha-jun turned his head, avoiding eye contact.

Seeing no denial, it seemed he also agreed with Moyong Jin’s opinion.

“Repetitive sparring alone is pointless. There’s no one here to give advice or make corrections… sir.”

Yi-gang’s expression became peculiar at those words.

Instead of explaining further, Yi-gang suddenly extended his hand.

“What’s this… sir.”

“A handshake. I heard you taught Ha-jun about handshakes.”

“Ah!”

In a flash, Moyong Jin’s face brightened up. The previously downtrodden look he had was now nowhere in sight.

“It’s a custom of the Westerners. A way of greeting by holding each other’s hand.”

“Oh right. Shall I show you… sir.”

The Baek Clan brothers might find it difficult now, but it was not the case in the past. Were they not just frogs in a well, having lived only within Xi’an?

Following his elder brother, Moyong Jin had been to Beijing and had established connections with children of other prestigious clans. He took pride in being the capable son of the Moyong Clan, the ruler of Zhejiang.

“Show me this handshake of yours.”

“Alright!”

With his chest puffed out with pride, Moyong Jin eagerly took Yi-gang’s hand.

They held hands, shaking them up and down.

This unfamiliar greeting in the Central Plains boosted Moyong Jin’s confidence.

Look at Yi-gang’s astonished expression. Did he not seem captivated by a culture he’s never witnessed?

“I knew something was off.”

“Huh?”

“I thought Ha-jun learned it wrong, but you were the one who got it wrong from the start.”

“What… are you talking about?”

“The hand is wrong. You should be holding with the opposite hand.”

Moyong Jin was holding Yi-gang’s right hand with his own left hand. Instead of their palms facing each other, Moyong Jin’s hand was enveloping the back of Yi-gang’s hand. Yi-gang corrected it for him.

“How could it be…?”

“Who taught you the handshake? You learned it wrong.”

Upon hearing Yi-gang’s words, a memory struck Moyong Jin.

In truth, the handshake was nit as widespread as to be called a trend. To say it was a big fad in Beijing was an exaggeration.

He had first learned it from the children of traders at the port, who had trade interactions with Western merchants.

“…”

“You should hold hands like this.”

As Yi-gang took his hand the correct way, it finally felt right.

This feeling of the hand fitting perfectly was certainly the sensation he had when he first learned the proper handshake.

“And you don’t shake it all wobbly like that.”

He had been taught that a handshake meant holding and shaking hands. Hence, he had fervently shook Baek Ha-jun and Yi-gang’s hands up and down.

“You just need to shake it gently, once or twice.”

Even for Moyong Jin, it was undeniable.

“…”

Yi-gang’s way of doing the handshake was very refined. Much more so than the young trader from Golden Ruler Merchant Group who taught Moyong Jin.

‘…I’m doomed.’

Moyong Jin’s face turned deep red.

‘Surely, he’ll make fun of me.’

The memory of proudly teaching Ha-jun the handshake technique surfaced. The ruthless Baek Yi-gang would surely mock Moyong Jin. The shame was already overwhelming.

However, Yi-gang said something unexpected.

“Well, what’s so special about this handshake technique? From now on, do it like this.”

“Ah, yes.”

“You should say ‘yes, sir.’”

“…Yes, sir.”

Yi-gang did not mock him. He simply checked to make sure Moyong Jin was doing the handshake correctly and nodded.

Baek Ha-jun, standing beside them, sneakily observed the handshake and also nodded in approval.

“Good. I just happened to know the correct handshake technique, and I taught it to you, right?”

“Right… sir.”

“Then, even if you know more about swordsmanship than I do, you can advise me about the spar.”

As he said that, Yi-gang picked up his wooden sword again.

As Moyong Jin blankly stared at Yi-gang, who was preparing for a spar with Ha-jun with an imposing stance, a belated response slipped out from his lips,

“Yes, sir…”

Hearing Moyong Jin’s murmur, Yi-gang smiled.

「A handshake, huh? You sure know strange customs.」

“It’s just a simple greeting.”

He had been a bit surprised when Ha-jun said he learned the handshake from Moyong Jin. In the Central Plains, handshakes were packaged as a mysterious Western culture.

Of course, to Yi-gang, there was nothing special about a handshake.

“Whew. This time, I’ll take the lead.”

Yi-gang said this to Ha-jun, who was tensely holding his wooden sword. As he took a deep breath, his ribs heaved.

Still, it was bearable. Otherwise, he would still be rolling on the ground.

Yi-gang, of course, had a countermeasure.

「Before fully mastering the secret art of strengthened body, external arts are inferior. Continuously train your body.」

While not visiting Red Jade Training Hall, Yi-gang learned the secret art of strengthened body from the Immortal Divine Sword.

Simply put, it was about making the body robust. It was the second form of the completed Great Yin Flow, and it was much harder to grasp than the secret art of light footwork.

Practicing duels and deliberately getting hit was a part of properly practicing the secret art of the strengthened body.

「Focus even more. The most important thing is the sword that has been passed down to the descendant.」

That was also true. Yi-gang wanted to learn swordsmanship. Although it was a late start for the child of a martial artist, Yi-gang had the best master by his side.

「Do not forget the Way of the Three Talents. The Heaven’s Shadow Sword Technique also originates from those three movements.」

The Immortal Divine Sword whispered softly.

‘The foundation of swordsmanship is the Three Talents.’

Instead of teaching the Heaven’s Shadow Sword Technique, the Immortal Divine Sword began with the Three Talents Sword Technique. Although it was called a sword technique, it was a basic move that was inferior to the low-grade martial arts sold at street stalls.

Vertical cut, horizontal cut, and thrust. That was all. Yi-gang initially dismissed it as trivial.

It was a mistake. Even the horizontal and vertical cuts were not easy to execute with the correct posture.

The distribution of weight, handling of the gaze, harmonious movement of the waist and arms, everything was utterly unfamiliar.

Under the meticulous guidance of the Immortal Divine Sword, Yi-gang polished the basics of swordsmanship from scratch.

However, could he compete with the prodigious Ha-jun with just that level of skill?

“I’m going.”

With that said, Yi-gang took a step forward.

Unlike before, Yi-gang extended his wooden sword forward first.

「When slashing vertically with the sword, do it as if it’s a lightning strike.」

Of the thousands of vertical cuts he had swung so far, it was the most perfect strike.

With the intention of breaking Ha-jun’s forehead, Yi-gang slashed down with his sword.

“Huh!”

The gaze of Ha-jun, holding the wooden sword, changed in an instant. He seemed oblivious to it, but the moment he held the sword, the younger brother’s eyes became sharp.

Clang!

Ha-jun parried Yi-gang’s wooden sword diagonally. With just that move, Yi-gang’s force dispersed.

Then, just like earlier, Ha-jun’s sword whizzed vigorously. Just like in their previous duel, it aimed for Yi-gang’s vital point once again.

「It’s the same attack as before. Use the secret art of light footwork!」

Contrary to Moyong Jin’s thoughts, Yi-gang always received generous advice from the absolute master after every spar.

Thanks to that, while his body was heavy and sluggish, Yi-gang’s spirit was lighter than anyone’s.

Whish—

Instead of striking Yi-gang’s solar plexus, Ha-jun’s sword passed by his armpit. Using the secret art of light footwork, Yi-gang’s body seemed to flutter like a falling leaf.

To the eyes of Ha-jun and Moyong Jin, it must have seemed as if Yi-gang had deftly evaded the wooden sword.

Moyong Jin inadvertently exclaimed in admiration.

“Rou-neng-zhi-gang!”

Softness overcomes hardness.

At that moment, the Immortal Divine Sword also shouted to Yi-gang,

「Good! Hold on to his sword!」

Yi-gang firmly gripped the wooden sword by his side with his left arm.

Had it been a real sword duel, he might have been cut. However, if one properly learned the secret techniques of strengthened body, they could also use these skills against real swords.

Yi-gang, gripping his wooden sword tightly, pulled it while stretching his body forward.

「And headbutt!」

What happened to the Way of the Three Talents and softness overcoming hardness?

As much as the Immortal Divine Sword laughed, Yi-gang laughed too.

Boom!

It was an actual headbutt without any semblance of the elegance expected from a prestigious clan.


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