Martial King's Retired Life

Neither youth under the charcoal sky budged or said another word.

If Shaman Monarch Palace’s rule was credited with Mount Wanyu’s reputation, then Moyan Clan, the clan that faithfully bequeathed their mental cultivation and broadswordplay to each generation, was credited with the mountain’s military might.

Mount Wanyu wasn’t exactly a haven for civility when Great Spirit Shaman occupied it decades ago. When various factions tried to obstruct him in a myriad of ways, Moyan Clan cut down the dissidents to usher in peace for Shaman Monarch Palace.

Blade Demon left plenty of room for imagination when he took Moyan Luohou’s second son in as his disciple after their duel, which lasted three days, twenty years ago. If there was anyone who was worthy of being mentioned in the same sentence as Martial Paragon in Nanjiang, it would undisputedly be Moyan Clan’s retired patriarch.

“Who are you? Why are you starting trouble on Mount Ling?” Moyan Changping questioned in fluent Mandarin.

“You own this mountain? You think you can just draw a circle around a block of land and claim it as your own? I was just sunbathing when two minions started having a go at me. Do I look like someone who’ll just take insults lying? I gave them a “Buddha’s Birth”, sending them to see Buddha, visit the man up north, through the four seasons, into the five blessings, onto th-”

“This one gets the gist of it. This mountain is not just any mountain. You cannot trespass without permission.”

“Already trespassed, haven’t I? What are you gonna do about it?”

Moyan Changping tugged up a corner of his lips: “You possess impressive skills. You cannot possibly be some nobody. May this one request your name?”

Hong Jiu assumed an akimbo stance and adopted a smug grin: “Daddy.”

Moyan Changping took the provocation in stride and tried cutting Hong Jiu once again.

Moyan Luohou didn’t choose Moyan Changping as his successor because his eldest son was more gifted than his free-spirited twin brother. Moyan Changping was born his father’s successor, prohibited from learning any other skills outside of Moyan Clan and forced to serve only as a guardian. Moyan Changping didn’t take issue with the path he was forced to take or feel jealous of his brother having the privilege to learn from Blade Demon, nor did he whine when he had replaced his father as Shaman Monarch Palace’s guardian despite having issues with Great Spirit Shaman’s deeds, as he genuinely believed that his father was the greatest broadsword wielder in all the land.

Hong Jiu pressed onto the back of Moyan Changping’s blade, planning to quickly defuse it before it reached his face, but a series of blazing-fast blade movements forced him to pull back, or his hand would’ve been diced instead of the rock chips.

Moyan Changping advanced as Hong Jiu retreated, coming down with a combo from above to cut off Hong Jiu’s options.

He’s bloody fast with his blade.

Hong Jiu didn’t rank Moyan Changping ahead of Sima Huai in speed, but Moyan Changping wasn’t too far behind.

Whilst Hong Jiu evaded the flurry of strikes, he caught sight of a purple flame in Moyan Changping’s eyes.

Moyan Clan was one of the few groups that trained visual techniques. Having mastered level three of his clan’s Blood, White, Purple, Green, Yellow and Blue visual prowess system, not only was he able to see the flow of true qi inside his opponent, but he was also able to let his honed instincts operate without his conscious input. The ability to capitalise on the opponent’s openings without having to cross the brain barrier combined with his style rooted in speed meant that he was an expert at killing in one strike.

“Indeed, there is no point in you telling this one who you are with.” Moyan Changping positioned his blade to behead. “This one has no desire to hear about unknown, narcissist sects.”

Clang!

Moyan Changping orderly retreated, though he was surprised: I couldn’t see his true qi distribution for a split second?

“Keep that beak in line,” Hong Jiu wiped away his smile, “or I’ll snap your toy.”

Moyan Changping leaned forward at the torso for a lunge. Though his speed was still there, he wasn’t as dangerous now that he wasn’t provided with portents of his opponent’s movements.

Subsequent to both of them missing each other by a few inches, the two disengaged. A second post-disengagement, Moyan Changping’s weapon came down from the ether and plunged into a rock.

Moyan Changping’s right shoulder was a bloody mess, rendering him unable to wield his weapon. Scarlet mist spurt from Hong Jiu’s deep cut stretching from his chest to shoulder joint due to Moyan Changping’s uppercut slash.

The rain on standby came down to wash away their blood.

Moyan Changping tore off a corner of his shirt, then passed his broadsword to his left hand, wrapping it to his wrist with the torn bit of material: “You possess impressive skills. You cannot possibly be some nobody. May this one request your name?”

Hong Jiu rubbed the traces of blood on his chest and then guzzled several mouthfuls of alcohol from his leather pouch. “Heh, Night Fortress’ Hong Er.”

Glossary

Hong Er – Just so we’re clear, Hong Jiu isn’t trolling with the “er” suffix intended to express intimacy. It’s the “er” for “second”. Syntax dictates that when using the “er” suffix, it should be written as (Name)’er; that’s one way of telling.