Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 286: Lotus (5)

Saaaak—

Geom Un-bi’s sword sliced through the night air.

The sheer momentum swept over the gathered onlookers, grazing their skin as if peeling away invisible layers. When the blade curved downward, the moonlight itself seemed to ripple with it.

It was an unprecedented display of swordsmanship. The interplay between footwork and sword path was entirely new.

His entire body moved in harmony with the luminous arc of his blade, an endless flow of uninterrupted motion.

‘What kind of...?’

The sword wind carried a sharpness tempered by restraint—an elegance akin to a noble family’s refined legacy. It was impossible to gauge the limits of his sword power.

They say that a master’s technique reveals the sum of their life. Inspiration is always intertwined with one’s experiences.

A skilled swordsman’s every strike embodies their habits and temperament. If an aristocratic martial artist had cultivated their art through structured discipline, their essence would be even more distinct.

Gongya Jeong was no exception. She felt an overwhelming sense of solitude.

She wanted to see more.

‘No, this isn’t the proper etiquette of the martial world...!’

Just as she squeezed her eyes shut—

Sarak.

The sword, which had been effortlessly carving through moonlight, came to an abrupt halt. The veins beneath Geom Un-bi’s forearm pulsed slightly, his sleeve brushing empty air.

A few of the servants accompanying her father audibly swallowed. The mesmerizing dance of the blade ceased.

“I overstepped. This is not my home.”

The master of the sword spoke.

Sreung.

Gongya Jeong could only stare blankly as he gracefully sheathed his weapon.

In this moment, the lingering sense of loss weighed heavier than the moonlight itself.

Even though she had tried to avert her eyes, she struggled to suppress her regret.

It was an emotion she hadn’t experienced in a long time. Not a fleeting attraction between a man and a woman—

The heir of a noble family had been utterly shaken by a wanderer’s swordplay.

And in this pivotal moment, burdened by her responsibilities, she didn’t even know how to process it.

— "I invited him on behalf of our esteemed young lady. He graciously accepted, despite having no particular ties to our house. I guarantee it will be a fateful encounter.”

The words of Scholar Go echoed in Gongya Jeong’s mind.

“...It seems our house has been blind in more ways than one. We did not even think to look beneath our own lamp... Have the years made me so complacent? In my youth, I sought to see everything with my own eyes.”

The deep voice belonged to none other than her father, the head of the Gongya family.

Standing opposite Geom Un-bi, he exuded the presence of a mountain.

The crimson robe draped over his large frame caught the moonlight, his piercing black eyes gleaming beneath thick brows.

“I had no idea there was such a swordsman among my daughter’s peers. I must apologize for witnessing your practice uninvited. I was utterly entranced.”

It was a simple yet dignified apology. His manner carried the gravitas of one accustomed to high status.

Jeong Yeon-shin shook his head, retracting the subtle aura that had seeped out.

The middle-aged man before him was strong—strong enough to perceive the nature of his Gwangryun-gi. He had to be careful.

Even if the Gongya family was only considered a great house within Shanxi, as its patriarch, his martial prowess could not be underestimated. He would not be easily overwhelmed by an Iphwang Fortress swordsman.

“The fault is mine for practicing wherever I pleased. I should have been more mindful as a guest.”

As he spoke, he casually adjusted the sash securing his sword.

The corners of the Gongya patriarch’s lips curved slightly.

“The fault lies with our house for failing to recognize a distinguished swordsman. I would like to extend proper hospitality. May I ask the name of that sword technique?”

“I was merely moving as I felt. It has no set form or name yet.”

Jeong Yeon-shin answered vaguely.

It was still incomplete—he had yet to refine its structure.

He had taken the disciplined essence of Jeong Family Sword but had yet to fully shape his fifth sword technique.

He sought to perfect Geomroe Seomreung-shik, enhancing it into a more complete form.

Ultimately, he would have to face one of the strongest martial artists in the world—the master of the Zhegal Clan. He could not rely solely on quick-strike techniques suited for short duels.

Without the ability to sustain a defensive aura, he needed a more stable approach.

A technique to complement short-strike swordplay...

He wanted to imbue Geomroe Seomreung-shik with the sophistication of a noble lineage’s swordsmanship.

To artificially instill the completeness that only time could grant.

If he could refine it before facing the Zhegal master, it would be ideal—but whether that would happen remained uncertain.

No technique that fully incorporated the principles of Neungbeop Gwangryun-gi could be developed easily. Each stroke had to encapsulate supreme insight.

They say that even as a teacher, one continues to learn.

The Gongya family was a noble household. There was something more to gain here.

Just as he had unexpectedly refined his Jeong Family Sword technique in this place.

At that moment—

“No form or name...?”

The Gongya patriarch repeated his words with a curious expression.

He studied the young swordsman for a moment before smoothing out his sleeve and speaking again.

Suppressing the competitive spirit that naturally arose among swordsmen.

Their age and status were too far apart.

“The night grows late. I must apologize for failing to properly welcome you as our guest.”

“The meal was exceptional.”

Jeong Yeon-shin spoke honestly.

A slight smile appeared on the patriarch’s solemn face.

“You are welcome to stay as long as you like. Even if you visit unannounced, you will always be received warmly. Make yourself at home.”

Jeong Yeon-shin responded with a respectful bow.

Gongya Jeong stood by the veranda, watching him in silence.

The noble heir, the lady of a great martial family.

The last traces of her intoxication had faded, leaving only the pale glow of moonlight on her face.

***

At the break of dawn, Jeong Yeon-shin received an unexpected visit from Gongya Jeong.

From the rear courtyard, Scholar Go peeked out, his face bright with a knowing smile, waving his fist lightly—reminding Jeong Yeon-shin of Heon Won-chang in a more refined manner.

"I wish to receive guidance from Lord Geom."

The noblewoman bowed with impeccable decorum. A single strand of her hair cascaded over her shoulder, swaying gently with her movement.

Her hands were clasped together in the traditional Gongsu-rye—not the martial world's salute, but a civilian gesture of respect. It was a display of humility.

Jeong Yeon-shin had encountered such a gesture before.

The Tang siblings of the Sichuan Tang Clan had once greeted him the same way—after witnessing the principles of Mancheonhwa-yu, they had bowed in gratitude, swearing to treat him as an honored benefactor.

They had been among the most promising talents he had met.

‘I wonder how they’re doing.’

He hoped that the noblewoman standing before him would, at the very least, match the heels of those siblings.

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Slowly, Jeong Yeon-shin parted his lips.

"Your father seems highly skilled. Why seek me instead?"

"To broaden my knowledge. Your swordsmanship was astonishing. If my previous words or actions offended you, I ask for your understanding."

Her tone had softened, adopting a more respectful form of address.

There was no need to be petty.

In a famine-ridden martial world, one’s martial ability dictated their status.

Even the strictest social hierarchies crumbled before hunger.

He gave a quiet nod.

"I was treated to fine food. As a guest, I suppose I should earn my keep."

Despite his words, he had skipped breakfast.

This was a significant moment.

Side by side, he and Gongya Jeong made their way to the open courtyard.

The area was already quiet—there was no need to head to the larger training grounds.

Jeong Yeon-shin curbed any impatience and spoke calmly.

"Draw your sword."

"Yes."

With practiced ease, Gongya Jeong unsheathed her blade.

At the same moment, Jeong Yeon-shin’s gaze trailed her movements—from the muscles in her arms down to her stance.

He was assessing the composition of her body, the shape of her energy flow.

Then, without moving his lips, he transmitted his voice directly into her mind.

She listened in silence.

A faint smile flickered across her lips beneath the morning sunlight.

"This... how could this be a secret art...?"

"A secret art?"

Jeong Yeon-shin tilted his head slightly, urging her to continue.

What he had just conveyed was no secret technique.

It was merely the correct way to use her body—a method reverse-engineered after analyzing her natural movements and refining them for efficiency.

‘With limbs that long, she can expand her sword’s reach significantly. Though her left-hand muscles are weaker than her right, she’s already accustomed to that imbalance. If she fully utilizes her finely toned muscles and wrist pressure points...’

The masters of Jeong Family Internal Arts emphasized the natural optimization of the body.

For Jeong Yeon-shin, born into a third-rate martial household, improving his skills meant maximizing every physical advantage he could find.

He had no patience for those who wasted their natural talents.

"Try it."

He folded his arms and gestured with his chin. His posture had become effortlessly authoritative.

Gongya Jeong showed no signs of displeasure.

Fixing her gaze on the tip of her sword, she took a steady breath.

Then, with a short kiahap, she swung her blade horizontally.

Her crimson sleeve billowed as the force of the strike swept outward.

Saaak!

Jeong Yeon-shin remained silent for a moment.

The gust from her sword sent a swirl of dust across the courtyard. A calm stillness followed.

By the time the ochre dust had fully settled, he spoke again.

"There seems to be a misunderstanding. Allow me to correct it."

His tone was indifferent.

This was a great martial family. Rather than blaming Gongya Jeong’s inadequacy, he would re-evaluate his own teachings.

Even a stray rock on the roadside will roll in whatever direction it is kicked. There was no need to assume failure prematurely.

Once more, he transmitted instructions directly into her mind.

She listened silently.

Then, she lifted her sword and tried again.

Saaaak—

A perfect white arc sliced through the air, causing the atmosphere to tremble slightly.

It was a technique that would appear impressive to any observer.

From the precise alignment of her footwork to the energy coalescing in her sword wind, the motion left behind a faint, near-invisible distortion in the air.

Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyelashes quivered slightly.

"If you loosen your right shoulder blade a little more while releasing the stored energy in your wrist’s Naegwan-hyeol, the cutting power will increase. Considerably."

"That was actually a concept I had been pondering for a while... Hearing you say it now confirms my suspicions. I have already taken the first step toward mastery. If I dedicate the next ten years to training, I will achieve full proficiency."

Sreung.

Gongya Jeong smoothly sheathed her sword and clasped her hands together in gratitude.

Her bearing was steadfast, her presence unshaken.

She had spoken of ten years as though it were nothing. Yet, the words did not feel hollow.

She was like a marble sculpture—slowly carving herself over time, refining every inch until she reached completion.

Jeong Yeon-shin could not comprehend such patience.

"......"

The famed Ma Gwang-ik-ju was momentarily speechless. The realization hit him hard.

It took effort to part his lips again.

"You... you’ll do well."

Gongya Jeong walked a completely different path.

A distant cliff’s edge appeared in his mind.

She was a stone, enduring the long years, letting the wind and time carve her form.

And Jeong Yeon-shin?

He was merely a mayfly, incapable of comprehending the patience of a mountain.

***

Dark circles had formed under his eyes. At least, that’s how it felt.

Jeong Yeon-shin squinted against the morning light. The sunlight seeping through the changhoji seemed to mock him, licking at his skin with a subtle warmth.

He greeted Gongya Jeong with indifference when she arrived for the morning courtesy call.

"Lord Geom, if there was any discomfort in your lodging, please let me know immediately. Our household employs many skilled attendants. Adjusting a bedding arrangement is a trivial matter."

"It was my first time experiencing such a crushing sense of defeat..."

"Then you must have engaged in mental training while lying in bed. This unworthy Gongya should take that as a lesson. To begin the year’s first month in the presence of such a swordsman is surely an auspicious omen."

Her neatly tied black hair caught his attention.

It was clean, with a smooth sheen—proof of meticulous effort.

She must have woken early to wash and dry it. It was the habit of a dedicated martial artist.

Her Qi Circulation Training likely began at dawn—a textbook discipline, an admirable approach.

‘Mental training...’

Jeong Yeon-shin swallowed his skepticism. Surely, she wasn’t mocking him.

"What brings you here?"

"I mentioned before that the preliminary rounds for the Bi-mu Tournament were approaching. The noble factions of Shanxi have begun gathering at our estate for this reason. A grand banquet will be held here to mark the occasion. As I mentioned earlier, making connections with these individuals could be of great benefit to you, Lord Geom. Many among them hold great influence."

"The preliminary rounds..."

Jeong Yeon-shin pondered for a moment before nodding.

"I’ll attend the banquet."

"A wise choice. However..."

The faint smile on Gongya Jeong’s lips faded slightly.

"Our family is facing considerable opposition. Among those attending, there are even butchers who founded martial sects after escaping from Green Forest banditry. Now, they are recognized as members of the noble martial society of Shanxi. You may find that some will act discourteously toward you, Lord Geom."

"Are all the tournament participants attending?"

"Yes."

"From what I’ve heard, many of these sects lean toward the Sa-Pa faction..."

"You could say that. Shanxi has long been a land where the military holds great sway. Due to the intense pressure exerted on noble martial houses, it has been difficult for sects to survive while adhering strictly to orthodox principles. Even our family has endured countless hardships because of this. Many among the Green Forest sects were former generals who fled due to political schemes. Countless wandering warriors who have made a living by the sword reject the Great Ming Laws outright. In a way, most of them could be considered Sa-Pa."

"Then there’s nothing to worry about."

"Of course, I am sure your swordsmanship far surpasses theirs, but I was more concerned about... the martial order—"

"So-Ga-Ju."

"Yes?"

"Gongya So-Ga-Ju will one day be spoken of as an Unrivaled Warrior. I can see it."

"That is far too grand a statement..."

Gongya Jeong offered a faint smile.

Jeong Yeon-shin did not return it.

A warrior without an opponent—such a person would truly be invincible.

The weight of last night’s turmoil still lingered in his mind. It was enough to make him wonder whether his grandfather had lived with this feeling his entire life.

‘I should be more considerate of him.’

His thoughts drifted to the Sunhyeolpo tucked away in his satchel—the blood-red cloak, the symbol of nobility within the Bloodflame Cult.

To complete his mission, he had to rise above his Black-Robed seniors with an overwhelming undefeated record.

For the Ma Gwang-ik-ju of this era, failure was not an option.