ALL NOVEL Ch 7
Nangong Chengchan stroked his long beard and smiled faintly.
“Finally, you’ve come to find your true path. I suppose the family head has been busy with state affairs.”
Normally, Nangong Su rarely showed his emotions, but now he couldn’t hide the trembling fingertips and the troubled look in his eyes.
“…”
His eyes were constantly shifting, restless.
Three days ago, his uncle had unexpectedly appeared and handed him a record of the sword discussion, a detailed analysis of over fifty pages. He had been too tired from his state duties and had forgotten about it, but today he finally managed to read it all.
**The Three Talents Sword.**
An ordinary and common third-rate sword technique.
However, the Three Talents Sword in the record was an entirely different form of swordsmanship.
The sword technique itself was not much different, but the way the movements were executed and the transformation of offense and defense were on a completely different level.
**Hwa-San Joint Branch.**
**Sa-Ryang-Fei-Cheong-Gun.**
The twisting, blocking, shifting, striking down, swinging up, and thrusting motions of the Three Talents Sword seemed to function like a disciplined and sophisticated martial principle. How could this be?
It was easy for anyone to talk.
When a sword practitioner masters the fundamentals, only then can they truly achieve mastery.
Every martial artist knows the importance of mastering the basics.
But would they continue to focus on the basics throughout their lives? That’s impossible.
The martial arts of a prestigious family are not so simple.
Every day, one must clear their mind and refine their internal energy.
They must sharpen their vision and sensitivity to sounds, testing and refining their senses in preparation for battle.
They must constantly seek the optimal fighting style through meditation, and confirm this through actual combat.
They must constantly observe their own body, refining their vital energy, and if any muscle or tendon is underdeveloped, they must work to improve it.
They must research the moment to unleash their energy, eliminate unnecessary movements in their form, and correct any bad habits.
In this way, martial arts of prestigious families are a continuous process of self-cultivation.
**The Emperor’s Sword Style.**
**The Skybound Infinite Sword.**
Day by day, with every movement, one diligently refines their form. Even after a lifetime of dedication, they have not yet perfected their swordsmanship.
Is there truly such a thing as perfect martial arts?
That would be a level too vast for one lifetime to handle.
But at least, the Three Talents Sword in this record was the only perfect martial art he had ever seen.
An unfamiliar feeling he had never experienced in his entire life.
Nangong Su, the first among the Seven Lords of Jianghu, a master of the **Chang Tian Sword**, was stunned by the perfection of the Three Talents Sword.
Throughout his life, he had never encountered such a perfect martial art.
The absolute nature of the word *perfection* was not simple.
“…Hua-San?”
His tightly clenched lips betrayed his surprise.
Nangong Su thought of the **Zixia Sword Saint** of Hua-San, the top martial artist of his era.
They were both at the peak of martial arts, but they could never truly touch the same level.
If not him, who else could use the Three Talents Sword in such a perfect manner?
“It’s not him, Master.”
Nangong Su’s eyes filled with suspicion.
“Then who?”
Nangong Chengchan smiled warmly.
“You will understand in time, Master. For now, I hope you can learn something from this.”
As he finished speaking, he began to raise his energy. A bluish aura of the sky began to fill his eyes.
For a moment, Nangong Su looked surprised, but then he felt immense joy, as if it were his own achievement.
“Congratulations, Uncle.”
What they didn’t know was that the sword record they were looking at was not just a sword technique but a trace of the ancestors, a divine legacy.
—
If the Nangong family did not exist in Anhui, the **Hua-Si Sword Sect** would have been powerful enough to take its place.
Their unique sword technique, **Peach Blossom Eleven Sword**, was often compared to the famous **Twenty-Four Fist Plum Blossom Sword** of Hua-San, such was its formidable strength.
Their origins came from the legendary **Peach Blossom Island**.
With their fame alone, they could establish a powerful presence in the martial world.
Unfortunately, after the sudden death of Hua Yi-Gang, the grandmaster of the Hua-Si Sword Sect, from a mysterious illness, the sect began to decline.
His son, Hua Seong-Myeong, was far too insufficient to lead the family.
He lacked not only martial talent but also basic decency.
Despite the sect’s influence, his reputation in **Hefei** was as bad as it could get.
He was notorious for leaving debts at inns and brothels, exploiting commoners, and even harassing women.
The people of Hefei referred to him derisively as **Hua-Si Dog Son**.
His father, Hua Yi-Gang, was a heroic figure, loved by all, but his son was a disgrace, a scoundrel who couldn’t even match one-tenth of his father’s virtues.
“Hah! The heroes of the **Zhuge Family** are all here?”
The disciples of the **Zhuge Family**, who had been trying to avoid the gaze of Hua Seong-Myeong, froze in place, their faces contorting in disgust.
Without the shadow of the Hua-Si Sword Sect, they would have never given him the time of day.
But since he had come over to greet them, they couldn’t ignore him either.
Zhuge Un, the disciple of the Zhuge family, put on a displeased expression and stood up from his seat.
“Hua, my good fellow. How have you been?”
“Well, if it isn’t the small Zhuge (Xiao Zhuge), Zhuge Un! My old friend!”
The exaggerated expressions and gestures were obvious to everyone around. It seemed as though he was ostentatiously showing off his connections with prominent disciples of the Zhuge family, a blatant display of his status.
At that moment, the curtain of the tavern was pulled aside, and a group of young men entered.
They were dressed in blue silk hero robes, with magnificent waistbands of fine silk. Their swords, adorned with dark blue jade hilts, caught the light as they moved.
These were the prized younger disciples of the Great Nangong Family, known for their martial prowess.
At the front of the group stood a young man whose presence radiated strength. His sharp gaze was enough to intimidate anyone who looked into his eyes.
He appeared to be just past twenty years of age, but astonishingly, there was a large dragon design embroidered on his chest, made of blue silk.
The emblem of the Azure Dragon on his attire meant he was a Chang Tian Sword Master.
Within the Nangong family, there was only one young disciple who had risen to this position at the age of twenty.
“Young Sword Master!”
He was Nangong Zhangho, the eldest son of Nangong Su, the head of the Nangong family. Already widely famous in Anhui as the “Young Sword Master,” his name was known throughout the region.
The Nangong family and everyone in Hefei had no doubt that he would soon take the position of family head and lead the future of the family.
He was Anhui’s number one martial prodigy.
The disciples of the Zhuge family, sitting upstairs, were visibly tense as they watched him.
The man standing before them was their most formidable rival at the upcoming Sow Dragon Tournament.
Once again, Hua Seong-Myeong had made an unnecessary appearance. But surprisingly, he wasn’t interested in Nangong Zhangho.
“Young Master!”
Hua Seong-Myeong, with quick steps, ran downstairs, calling out to someone.
Nangong Soso, who had been watching this scene with indifference, suddenly furrowed her brow in irritation as she noticed his approach.
“How do you keep getting more handsome every time I see you?”
Hua Seong-Myeong flashed a friendly smile and greeted her warmly, but Nangong Soso only responded coldly.
“It’s been a while.”
Nangong Zhangho, who had been observing Hua Seong-Myeong’s behavior with indifferent eyes, finally spoke in a cold voice.
“Still as frivolous as ever.”
“Haha! Zhangho, my friend!” Hua Seong-Myeong chuckled as he looked back and forth between the Nangong and Zhuge disciples.
“To see the Young Sword Master and the Small Zhuge in the same place! Truly, this must be the Sow Dragon Tournament.”
Nangong Zhangho, visibly displeased, shut his eyes tightly.
If not for his family’s orders, he would never have agreed to travel with such people.
He could tolerate Hua Seong-Myeong to some extent, but he absolutely could not stand the Zhuge family’s Shu Gui (a term for scribes or scholars) members. They were the type to use their brushes to smear the reputation of his father.
When he thought about the Gangho Fengyunlu (The Epic of Heroes), he felt a strong urge to draw his sword and strike.
Nangong Zhangho took his seat on the first floor, and one by one, the younger disciples of the Nangong family followed suit.
After sitting down, Nangong Zhangho spoke again, his voice distant, though his gaze did not shift toward the Zhuge family disciples upstairs.
“Let’s settle this quickly and move on.”
Nangong Soso, still uneasy about the strange and heavy atmosphere among the men, decided that food would lift her spirits. She turned her gaze toward the kitchen, where the staff were busy moving about, and her eyes widened.
“Zhuo Hui?”
She saw him arguing with the tavern owner.
“Ugh! What do you want from me now?” the tavern owner growled.
“What’s this? What do I want from you? Why should I tell you my plans?” Zhuo Hui snapped back.
At first, the tavern owner had been kind, responding to questions with a pleasant attitude, even though Zhuo Hui had ordered expensive dishes. However, things had taken a turn when Zhuo Hui started asking increasingly suspicious questions—about the best-selling dishes, where the ingredients came from, how often the tavern restocked, how they recruited talented chefs, and how much the staff made.
At that point, the tavern owner began to grow wary, realizing that Zhuo Hui was trying to gather business information for his own purposes.
Zhuo Hui, frustrated by the lack of cooperation, was becoming more desperate. He was conducting market research for his family’s new venture in the tavern business. Although his father had already established Zhao Ga Cheung, an established mercantile group, venturing into the tavern industry without any prior knowledge or experience was a daunting challenge.
Then, just as things were reaching a boiling point, someone burst through the curtain of the tavern in a hurry.
“…Huff! Huff! My agenda!”
Zhuo Hui turned his head sharply.
“Zheng Zai, brother?”
It was Zhang Guanbi, the third son of the Hua Long Guild, a prominent figure in the local business world.
The brief moment of relief on Zhuo Hui’s face quickly turned to confusion as Zhang Guanbi pulled out a letter, his face twisted with anger.
“What’s this? My agenda!”
The letter in his hand was stamped with the seal of Anhui Cheung, a powerful mercantile faction.
Zhuo Hui immediately understood why Zhang Guanbi was so angry.
As expected, the efficiency of this general manager’s actions was extraordinary.
“Do you know how much I’ve searched for the agenda?!”
Zhang Guanbi exclaimed, as soon as he received the letter, he rushed straight to the **Iron Forge**. But that damn general manager hadn’t even informed him of Zhuo Hui’s whereabouts.
In the end, after getting his father’s permission and mobilizing the entire guild’s network, he managed to track Zhuo Hui down.
He finally learned that a young man matching Zhuo Hui’s description had been causing a stir in every tavern in Hefei. And today, he had finally found him.
“Without a single word, suddenly cutting off our dealings? Is this really your true intention?”
Zhang Guanbi emphasized the word ‘agenda’ as if it was the most important thing.
“Well… it just happened,” Zhuo Hui replied nonchalantly.
“It just happened?”
Zhang Guanbi froze, his face full of disbelief.
Then, with a burst of anger, he shouted, “Even if we’re rival guilds, this kind of thing doesn’t happen! How can you just unilaterally cut off dealings with a guild you’ve been transacting with for over a month, making 1,500 liang of profit every month? And to top it off, you and I are sworn brothers, aren’t we?”
However, Zhuo Hui’s eyes remained calm and transparent, like the surface of water.
“I also respect and like you, brother. But business and personal matters must be separated.”
“Sworn brothers!”
“You act as if I didn’t give you any chances. How many opportunities have I given you? I’ve mentioned it to you every time we met, haven’t I?”
“That… that’s…”
Zhang Guanbi had no retort, for it was true. Every time they met, Zhuo Hui had subtly mentioned the interest of other guilds and tried to adjust the prices.
“Through our dealings, you’ve been earning 120 liang of gold every month. You know better than anyone, as a businessman, how much 120 liang of gold is worth, don’t you?”
At that moment, Zhang Guanbi was struck with a chill.
Zhuo Hui knew exactly how much profit he was making through the **Anhui Iron Forge**, as it was the only place from which he could generate such a significant amount from a single transaction.
“Sworn brothers? Nice words, but which brother would continuously give his older brother 120 liang of gold every month? That’s not brotherhood; it’s more like a tribute, a tribute from bandits and rogues, don’t you think?”
Zhang Guanbi still felt wronged.
He looked around cautiously and lowered his voice.
“Don’t you understand? I’ve been providing you with a steady supply of ingots for… huh?”
Suddenly, his vision was filled with the shape of a sword-shaped token.
At the center of the token, the characters **Chang Tian** (Azure Heaven) were embossed.
Zhuo Hui was holding the **Chang Tian Sword Token**.
Only then did Zhang Guanbi realize what was going on.
‘Ah…’
The Chang Tian Sword Token was something that even his own **Hua Long Guild**, which competed for the number one position in Anhui, didn’t have.
If someone had the Chang Tian Sword Token, it meant they had access to an abundance of iron ore in Anhui.
Zhang Guanbi then understood.
With that token, it was impossible to be tied to a “business” relationship with Zhuo Hui ever again.
The Chang Tian Sword Token signified that everything was possible in Anhui.
The person who was most shocked by the sight of the Chang Tian Sword Token was the tavern owner.
“Ah! Young Master! I didn’t recognize you, and I was rude!”
“Hmm?”
Zhuo Hui’s face stiffened as he looked awkwardly at the owner.
“You there, who are you? How do you possess the family’s sword token?”
At that moment, a tall and imposing young man appeared beside Zhuo Hui.
It was **Nangong Zhangho**, the Young Sword Master of the Nangong family.
“Wow…”
Zhuo Hui marveled inwardly.
Is this what a true hero looks like?
He was not tall or muscular in the traditional sense, but his presence exuded an aura that could not be described with mere physical features.
This was the aura of a true martial artist.
Zhuo Hui couldn’t help but admire him.
Nangong Zhangho’s first impression was that powerful.
Zhuo Hui, being respectful, introduced himself formally.
“I am Zhuo Hui, from… no, from the Anhui Iron Forge.”
“Anhui Iron Forge?”
Nangong Zhangho furrowed his brow, looking as if he were pondering, unsure if he had heard of it before.
The “Iron Forge” meant a blacksmith’s shop.
Someone working with metal would have the Chang Tian Sword Token? Is this some sort of fraud?
Just two years ago, there had been a man who caused a great deal of trouble in Hefei by using a counterfeit Chang Tian Sword Token.
“Show me the sword token!”
At that moment, Nangong Soso rushed over and grabbed her brother’s arm.
“Brother! This Chang Tian Sword Token was definitely issued by our family. Zhuo Hui here is one of the most famous figures in our family.”
Nangong Zhangho looked at Zhuo Hui with a puzzled expression.
“Famous?”
Nangong Soso nodded frantically.
“You’ve just come out of seclusion, so it’s understandable that you don’t know. Once you meet the elders… or the master, you’ll understand.”
Nangong Zhangho did not take his eyes off Zhuo Hui, still skeptical.
“Did our family offer a great sword?”
Nangong Soso burst out laughing at her brother’s imagination.
“Haha! Not at all. He’s actually a master martial artist.”
“A martial artist?”
Nangong Zhangho’s gaze changed immediately.
A burning intensity.
He immediately focused his energy, scanning Zhuo Hui carefully.
But there was nothing—no sign of internal energy or any aura of martial skill.
If he had cultivated martial arts, there should have been some trace of it, but there was nothing.
Yet, Nangong Soso was not someone who would speak falsely.
Nangong Zhangho, still unsure whether his judgment was wrong, continued to observe Zhuo Hui, but there was no trace of martial prowess.
His sword techniques were clean, without any roughness, and his gaze was unrefined.
The most significant difference between a martial artist and an ordinary person was the gaze.
A martial artist first learns how to “see.”
Zhuo Hui had never trained in external martial arts.
In fact, Zhuo Hui had already become an internal energy accelerator.
Zhuo Hui’s entire body felt like it had been completely drained of energy, so much so that he seemed like a person with no internal power. This level of control could only be achieved by someone who had reached the same realm as Zhuo Hui, and even then, it would be impossible to notice unless you were highly skilled.
Eventually, Nangong Zhangho became certain.
“Are you kidding me right now? This person is definitely not a martial artist.”
“But, brother, that’s…,” Nangong Soso tried to protest but couldn’t find the words.
She had never seen Zhuo Hui display his true martial prowess before.
“…But didn’t he defeat Grandpa in their sparring match?”
“Grandpa?”
The way Nangong Soso referred to “Grandpa” so familiarly could only apply to one person: **Chang Tian Sword Immortal**.
Apart from their father, he was the most powerful swordsman in the Nangong family.
He had beaten such an elder in a sparring match?
Nangong Zhangho couldn’t understand.
A sparring match was a form of practical combat. How could someone without any sword skills even participate in such a match?
It was astonishing that the elder even agreed to spar with an ordinary person, let alone lose.
“He lost after dozens of sparring matches, but not a single one did he win,” Nangong Soso continued.
“What?”
“And Grandpa even made him his unnamed disciple. Even though he’s an unnamed disciple, there’s still a generational hierarchy. It’s a bit much to keep treating him so disrespectfully.”
“His… disciple?”
Nangong Zhangho’s face turned from confusion to complete disbelief.
But then, he quickly composed himself.
“A person who hasn’t mastered even a single move of martial arts is called a disciple of the family elder? This is impossible until I see it with my own eyes!”
“Feel free to go to the family and check for yourself.”
“Enough!”
Nangong Soso puffed out her cheeks in annoyance.
At this point, Zhuo Hui, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke up.
“As for the authenticity of the sword token, I believe Nangong Soso has already confirmed it. So I will be taking my leave now…”
Zhuo Hui was eager to leave. He had an instinctual feeling that getting involved with Nangong Zhangho wasn’t going to lead to anything good. Also, staying with Zhang Guanbi from the **Hua Long Guild** was uncomfortable for him.
Zhang Guanbi, who had been subtly observing the situation, seized the moment and politely bowed to Nangong Zhangho.
“I believe we met from afar once before. It is an honor to meet you, Master of the Young Swordsman. I am from the **Hua Long Guild**…”
However, Nangong Zhangho didn’t even glance at Zhang Guanbi.
“Stop!”
His command carried a pressure infused with internal energy.
The intense force made Zhuo Hui frown and glance back.
“What is it now…?”
“The **Chang Tian Sword Token** represents the full prestige of the family. You are the owner of a sword token I know nothing about. This is no trivial matter.”
“As I said, Nangong Soso has already verified the authenticity of the sword token,” Zhuo Hui replied calmly.
Nangong Zhangho’s gaze became even sharper.
“I am here as the representative of the family head’s decree! You must prove it to me!”
The other members of the **Nangong family** were all looking at each other in surprise.
It was rare for Nangong Zhangho to display his authority as the Young Swordsman.
In reality, questioning the authenticity of the sword token was just an excuse.
The real issue was his profound disbelief that an ordinary person could defeat the family’s greatest swordsman in a sparring match. His pride simply wouldn’t allow it.
**”Interesting…”** The voice of the sword god echoed softly in Zhuo Hui’s mind.
**”This person is not lacking in skills. The realm he has achieved at such a young age is not something easily attained.”**
Zhuo Hui’s expression subtly changed.
It was rare for the sword god to show such admiration for someone.
**”There’s something satisfying about it.”**
“Pardon?”
Did he hear that correctly?
**”In your world, don’t you think it’s time for some… ‘real education’?”**
“E-education?”
“No! Senior, please don’t do it here! Not with so many people watching, or things will definitely get troublesome…”
**”Enough. Deal with him as he desires.”**
Here’s the translation of the text:
—
Sigh… Now I don’t even know anymore.
Jo Hwi sighed softly and answered reluctantly.
“Ha… What do you want?”
Namgung Jangho’s demand was simple.
“A duel!”
Jo Hwi sighed again, as if he expected this, and was about to respond when suddenly, the voice of the Sword Saint Elder echoed in his mind again.
– Deliver my words exactly as they are. Don’t add anything extra.
Jo Hwi listened to the Elder’s voice carefully and finally spoke.
“The sword of Namgung is a heavy sword (Heavy sword) and a still sword (Silent Sword). Why does the Lord of the Small Sword focus on speed (Quick) and art (Art)?”
“What? What do you mean?”
Namgung Jangho’s eyes were wide with surprise. Jo Hwi studied his gaze intently.
“Lord of the Small Sword, you are surely training in the art of the point (點). Don’t continue sharpening your eyes in the darkness. It’s natural for a swordsman to cultivate his eye technique, but relying too much on vision is harmful.”
“What… what do you know about this?”
Jo Hwi continued, undeterred.
“The point’s technique requires a natural sense of the moment when the force erupts. There’s a reason why masters of finger techniques are rare in the martial world. It’s not just talent—point techniques do not suit the sword of Namgung.”
Is he talking about my talent?
And what about Namgung’s sword?
Normally cold and rational, Namgung Jangho was now losing his composure.
“Stop talking nonsense…!”
“Are you denying it? How obsessed are you with drawing your sword that your arm has become like that?”
Namgung Jangho’s face turned a shade of green, as Jo Hwi had hit a nerve.
“What’s wrong with my arm?”
“Isn’t your right arm longer? And the shoulder near the Yunmen (Cloud Gate) point is abnormally developed. This is a typical feature of a swordsman obsessed with drawing his sword.”
People around them started noticing the length of his right arm.
Indeed, his right arm was slightly longer, and the pattern near his right shoulder was slightly raised.
“The spirit of the stone, unbroken by the years, revealing its form amidst the wind.”
Jo Hwi suddenly recited something with a calm voice.
“Bu Byun Am Jeol (Immutable Rock Festival)…?”
Namgung Jangho stiffened in surprise.
“Overlooking the world and embracing the myriad things, punishing the chaotic world on the path of the mighty dragon.”
As Jo Hwi continued speaking, Namgung Jangho’s eyes slowly became unfocused, like he was in a trance.
“Dragon flies and answers the way (Long Fei responded.)…”
Jo Hwi’s voice continued to rise.
“Fierce yet pure, pressing the world while embracing all mountains with the essence of the heavens!”
“Imperial King Sky (Emperor Cang Tian)…!”
Suddenly, Jo Hwi scolded with sternness.
“The path of a king is a pure one, not a corrupt one! It is the sky that embraces the world, yet remains merciful and blue!”
Namgung Jangho froze, realizing the mistake he had been making.
For three years, he had dedicated himself to catching up with someone else’s speed. Yet, all this time, the fear had been hiding within him—fear of the very speed he couldn’t achieve.
“…Did you say your name is Jo Hwi?”
The expressions of Namgung Jangho and the others in the clan turned to shock.
His heavy voice was unmistakably one of deep respect.
Jo Hwi, who had been preparing for a hit, now stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do.
“Yes, that’s right.”
Namgung Jangho smiled softly.
“You scold me just like my father would.”
“Ah… well…”
Namgung Jangho, now speaking with great humility, continued.
“This Namgung Jangho is not someone who lacks insight. I no longer doubt your skills.”
Jo Hwi realized that despite Namgung Jangho’s apparent humbleness, there was a depth to his perception that was extraordinary. Namgung had seen right through his mistakes—his obsession with speed, his narrow-mindedness—and the person who could do that was no ordinary man.
It was likely that this person was at a level that could even surpass the mighty Hwasan So-ryong. This was a person who could easily be considered a disciple of the great elder.
“Though I should show the courtesy of a senior, given my position as the head of the Namgung family, I ask that you understand that I can only offer you this token of respect.”
His tone was perfectly respectful, and from his posture, it was clear that his training had been extremely strict.
“Ah! As expected, the proper way of the righteous school!” Jo Hwi thought, genuinely impressed.
The difference between a martial sect rooted in tradition and one that wasn’t was now becoming clear to him.
It was hard to admit mistakes, but Namgung Jangho had done so without hesitation, maintaining dignity even as he bowed.
Jo Hwi was truly moved by this.
“That’s… I didn’t expect that! It’s truly impressive!” Jo Hwi thought.
“Ha ha! Don’t worry about it! The Elder made me do this, so don’t let it bother you.”
Jo Hwi wasn’t unfamiliar with the strict codes of the martial world, but compared to his experience in a modern society, it all felt a bit alien.
The reaction from the others watching, especially from the third son of the Hwayong Gang, was one of astonishment. Namgung Jangho, the head of the small sword family, had once dismissed him, but now it seemed he was starting to admire Jo Hwi.
If that was the case, then the strategy had to change.
“Greetings! I am Jo Hwi’s ‘brother,’ Sang Gwan Bi!”
Sang Gwan Bi, realizing that their relationship was no longer transactional, now sought to use his connection with Jo Hwi for other purposes.
Namgung Jangho briefly turned his attention to Sang Gwan Bi’s mention of his ‘brother’ but quickly dismissed it with a smile.
“Ha ha! The third son of the Hwayong Gang, too!” he said, showing some humor.
Sang Gwan Bi quickly changed his approach.
“Well, let’s share some tea, shall we?”
“Sure, I’d prefer some wine.”
“Fine!”
As Jo Hwi moved with confidence, Sang Gwan Bi grabbed his sleeve, eager to get back to business.
“Wait! Then let me take care of this!”
Sang Gwan Bi handed Jo Hwi a ledger from the Hwayong Gang.
Jo Hwi’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the figures.
“Brother, please, just estimate it. Don’t they get any payment for their work?”
“Heh. Isn’t the markup at least ten times faster, if not twenty?”
Jo Hwi, accustomed to calculating quickly, took the ledger and noted the details in his mind.
“I’ve checked. If the eighty-two items in the ledger are correct, the total purchase price comes to 4,870 silver coins.”
“4,870 silver coins?”
“Yes.”
—
This passage is a complex dialogue involving martial arts, inner conflict, respect, and intellectual rivalry between two skilled martial artists, with underlying themes of humility, growth, and the dynamics of power.
“Th-thank you, Iji.”
Jo Hwi’s eyes narrowed again.
“There’s quite a lot of cloth purchased this month, isn’t there? Looks like you’ve opened a new business channel? Or is there a new demand somewhere?”
Sang Gwan-bi’s face quickly became wary.
“Ah! It’s just that I’m buying in advance while the prices are low these days!”
“Hey, hey. This is why you’re a merchant to the core, huh? You’re full of greed without putting a single coin of your own down. How can I work with you, hyung?”
“Haha! Then, see you next time!”
Sang Gwan-bi quickly disappeared.
Jo Hwi stared at his retreating back with a horrified expression.
— “What, no way!”
From the second floor of the tavern, a young man suddenly stood up with a shocked face.
It was Zegegal Won, the young man who had been straining his ears to listen to the events unfolding downstairs.
Nam Gung Jang-ho, with a nonchalant face, led Jo Hwi to his seat.
“Let’s go to your seat now.”
“Ah, yes.”
As Jo Hwi glanced at the second floor and sat down, there was a loud crashing sound from the tavern stairs.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Zegegal Won was rushing down like a madman. In no time, he reached Jo Hwi with lightning speed.
“How is that possible? Why? How?”
He asked with a face full of confusion.
Sigh… What’s this kid doing again…?
Just as Jo Hwi was about to respond:
“Eighty-two items, each with different weights! And the total weight was over sixty thousand jin and over thirty thousand pieces! How could you possibly do such mental calculations? Are you a god of arithmetic?”
Zegegal Won’s face was filled with astonishment and disbelief.
Most of the techniques the Zegegal family prides itself on, such as Qimen Zhenfa (Mysterious Gate Technique), Yili (Theory of Changes), Tianmen (Heavenly Gates), and Tumo Mechanical Arts (mechanisms of civil engineering), are all based on arithmetic.
Therefore, Zegegal disciples learn arithmetic first before diving into other subjects.
This shows just how important arithmetic is to the Zegegal family.
There is no other group in the entire world that delves into numbers and arithmetic as deeply as the Zegegal family does.
Zegegal Won, who had been playing with arithmetic sticks since he was a baby, was regarded as a genius, even within the Zegegal family, which is known as a haven for prodigies. He was even revered as a reincarnation of Kongming (Zhuge Liang).
Yet even someone like him couldn’t comprehend Jo Hwi’s speed with arithmetic.
“What kind of arithmetic did you use? Grid calculation method? Abacus? No, there’s no way, you didn’t use any tools! It must have been a type of written arithmetic, right? Keichik calculation method? Or perhaps Yiksukol method?”
“What the hell, damn it! That’s not it!”
Jo Hwi, with a bitter expression, avoided Zegegal Won’s intense gaze.
He understood Zegegal Won’s passion for learning, but honestly, how could he explain it? How could he describe modern mathematics?
The biggest gap between modern mathematics and the arithmetic methods of this world is the concept of zero (0).
In the history of mathematics, the discovery of zero is regarded with the same level of importance as the discovery of fire.
In this world, zero is expressed as ‘Wu’ (nothingness) or ‘Kong’ (emptiness), not as a mathematical concept but a philosophical one.
Because of this, numbers in this world are not seen as combinations of symbols like modern numbers, but as objects in and of themselves.
The people here have not yet recognized zero (0) or negative numbers (-) as actual numbers.
This mathematical discovery will take at least another thousand years to become widespread.
This difference causes enormous inefficiencies.
Since numbers are viewed as objects, they are recorded in different columns. Also, before performing mental calculations, there have to be footnotes explaining the addition and multiplication of each column.
Without these footnotes, the calculation methods are incomprehensible to others, which means that verification is impossible.
This leads to incredibly inefficient calculations compared to modern mathematics.
On the other hand, modern arithmetic is incredibly simple. Even with fractions or decimals, the calculations are straightforward. Even when dealing with more complex items, someone familiar with basic polynomial division or factoring can handle it without resorting to equations.
Even if there are many items to calculate and the equations become slightly more varied, it is still at a level that anyone who can handle polynomials or factorization can manage. There’s no need to go as far as solving equations.
Looking at Jeongalun, who was treating this simple thing as if it were some great superpower, Jo Hwi was at a loss for words.
Is the shock of the difference in civilizations really that profound?
The method of calculating the area? Reverse side deception?
Of course, Jo Hwi also knew.
A calculation method that is grand in name but extremely inefficient in practice.
When I looked at this ledger of the total officer, which was covered in countless Chinese characters, I couldn’t help but burst into laughter.
Jowoo decided to give it a try.
“Do you know what happens when you multiply five by zero?”
A Modern Person Who Fell into the Martial Arts World 2
BUKDU NEO ORIENTAL FANTASY STORY
Cheongruyeon New Martial Arts Long Novel
Author: Cheongruyeon
Publisher: Gwak Dong-hyun / Publisher: Joheun Sesang Co., Ltd.
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ISBN: 979-11-391-0706-7
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