I Became the Owner of the Heavenly Flower Palace-Chapter 53: The Palace Master’s Sword, Wind and Cloud

Learning the Yongcheon Sword Art was enjoyable.

Discovering a field he had known nothing about was deeply interesting in itself, but more than that, the beautiful and captivating movements performed by Gi Seoran and Po Eunryeong were more than enough to seize Jincheon’s attention.

Drinking tea together, asking questions, and listening to their answers — it made him forget the passage of time.

Thus, after spending a satisfying three days, Jincheon departed from Nanzhou.

The kindly, rotund Commissioner offered to see him off, but Jincheon declined. Without any fanfare or ceremony, the party safely left Nanzhou and headed toward Seoan.

Clack, clack.

Jincheon gazed out of the carriage at the passing scenery.

As soon as they left Nanzhou, the atmosphere shifted noticeably.

The road from Jucheon to Nanzhou had been barren to the point of desolation, but beyond Nanzhou, green mountains and forests began to occasionally reveal themselves.

It was a landscape familiar to Jincheon, which naturally lowered his sense of alertness — and made him feel even more bored.

“Maybe I should review the forms of the Yongcheon Sword Art?”

Jincheon slowly closed his eyes.

Then, like replaying a game of Go, he began to trace the forms of the Yongcheon Sword Art in his mind.

It wasn’t difficult to recall the splendid bearing of Gi Seoran and Po Eunryeong.

Their eyes, their serious expressions, and their fluid, unhesitating movements — he remembered them all vividly.

It had been that striking a scene.

But whether Jincheon could actually imitate them was another matter entirely.

Sigh.

As he recalled the Yongcheon Sword Art, Jincheon repeatedly clenched and released his bare hands, a lingering sense of frustration within him.

“No helping it. Unless I try it myself...”

If everything worked just as imagined, who in the world wouldn’t be a master?

Even if one could picture it perfectly in the mind, the body often refused to follow.

No matter how many dozens of times one had watched a sword form, that didn’t guarantee mastery.

“Tonight, I’ll grip a sword myself.”

There would certainly be backlash.

They had stirred up enough of a fuss just over his declaration that he wished to learn swordsmanship — who knew what kind of reaction he’d face if he held a sword?

Still, if Jincheon insisted on it, they wouldn’t be able to oppose him to the end.

Clack, clack.

As the sun began to set, Jincheon’s carriage, along with the grand procession of over seventy escorts, entered a small town.

It was a typical, quiet provincial town, without even a few steps’ worth of a bustling district — unremarkable in every way.

****

Jincheon’s party unpacked in a modest residence.

It wasn’t large enough to accommodate the entire escort, but there was no cause for concern.

“We’ve rented several of the surrounding homes,” said the attendant Ilyo.

Renting not one but several homes was an expensive endeavor.

It was a solution Jincheon, who had no money of his own, would never have imagined — but it wasn’t as though the cost came from his purse.

Dinner, as always, was simple, though the number of dishes exceeded five. It was more than satisfying.

After a full rest accompanied by tea, Jincheon, feeling this was enough, rose from his seat.

“Let’s go out. And summon Gi Cheonhwa and Po Cheonhwa as well.”

The seven attendants bowed their heads and accepted Jincheon’s command.

It was a routine they had long since grown used to.

Jincheon stepped into the backyard of the residence.

It was already quite dark with the sun fully set, but the lanterns lit throughout the yard kept the space brightly illuminated.

Having already been informed, Gi Seoran and Po Eunryeong awaited him. The North Wind Commander Neung Gayeon and the East Wind Commander Ak Mujin were also in position, as though it were the most natural thing.

This was why Jincheon had delayed with tea — to give them time to eat and rest.

If he acted in haste, many people would end up weary.

Swish.

Gi Seoran and Po Eunryeong knelt on one knee and bowed their heads in salute.

Jincheon smiled and returned their gesture.

“Rise. Did you finish your meals well?”

“Yes.”

Gi Seoran and Po Eunryeong rose and answered.

Jincheon nodded, then spoke as casually as possible, as if this were nothing special.

“Tonight, I intend to train with the sword myself.”

There was no reply.

Jincheon glanced around, observing the mood.

The expressions of the seven attendants showed no change, and the North Wind Commander Neung Gayeon stood with her usual elegance.

Rather, the eyes of the East Wind Commander Ak Mujin glinted with a knowing light.

Jincheon quietly let out a breath of relief.

“At least the atmosphere is fine.”

The fact that no one offered a pointed gesture of false devotion was more than enough.

Jincheon turned his gaze back to Gi Seoran and Po Eunryeong.

Gi Seoran looked calm, but Po Eunryeong’s fluster was clear as day.

“I beg your leave to speak,” said Gi Seoran, kneeling again.

“Speak.”

“To begin the Yongcheon Sword Art, you must first learn the incantation.”

Jincheon nodded. He had expected that objection, and his answer was already prepared.

“I have already memorized the incantation.”

Memorizing it had not been difficult.

He had calmly listened to Gi Seoran and Po Eunryeong while drinking tea. It wasn’t particularly long, nor was it especially difficult.

“Maybe it’s because I used to cram books into my head?”

He didn’t understand the meaning of the incantation, but that didn’t matter.

Understanding the meaning was irrelevant — memorization, even without comprehension, was something every scholar had to do as naturally as breathing.

“A mere hundred and forty-four syllables is nothing.”

Since it was passed down orally, it was technically a sequence of sounds rather than characters, but either way, Jincheon found it easy.

Back in his study-intensive days, memorizing three to four hundred characters in a day wasn’t unusual.

“And in that dream, I heard it so often my ears bled...”

In truth, when he recalled the incantation, the sound of it roaring in his ears from that dream still lingered.

The fact that a mere dream had been etched so vividly into memory was strange in itself — though the real problem was that the dream had been a nightmare.

Jincheon hurried to shake off the thought. It would be troublesome if he dreamt of dragons tonight.

“Listen carefully.”

Hem. Clearing his throat, Jincheon clasped his hands behind his back and began to recite the incantation.

His voice, almost songlike in rhythm, resonated softly under the dark night sky.

The seven attendants, including Ilyo, Gi Seoran, Po Eunryeong, and the two Commanders all listened quietly.

The incantation ended quickly.

For something composed of a hundred and forty-four syllables, it was shorter than expected.

“How was it?”

When Jincheon asked, Gi Seoran immediately bowed her head and replied,

“I humbly offer that it was excellent.”

Beside her, Po Eunryeong nodded her head so fiercely it was almost frantic.

Jincheon was pleased.

Turning slightly, he saw Ilyo bow her head demurely in agreement, and even the lips of North Wind Commander Neung Gayeon curled into a smile.

“Was it truly alright?”

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Asked Jincheon, feeling cheerful.

Neung Gayeon responded,

“As expected of the Palace Master. In some ways, perhaps even more so... no, that was a slip of the tongue. Since it originally belonged to the Red Dragon, it is only natural that Your Lordship excels.”

The word slip of the tongue made Jincheon tense for a moment — but the feared outcome did not occur.

It seemed that even a slip of the tongue before the Red Dragon was forgivable, as long as it was praise.

In any case, he had passed the recitation. Jincheon gained confidence.

“Now at last, the sword forms... huh?”

Come to think of it — he didn’t have a sword. He had completely overlooked it.

But Jincheon didn’t panic. He simply turned to Ilyo and asked,

“Do we have a sword I can use?”

“Yes.”

As always, Ilyo’s answer came without hesitation.

At her subtle glance, Wolyo and Hwayo immediately turned and disappeared into the house.

They returned shortly thereafter.

Silver-haired Wolyo carried a long wooden case, followed by the blonde-haired Hwayo.

Swish.

Wolyo knelt and raised the case to offer it to Jincheon.

It was unmistakably the kind of case that would hold a sword.

Click.

With her black hair flowing like ink, Ilyo opened the case.

Just as expected, inside lay a long sword adorned with weathered, ancient embellishments.

“This is your sword, Wind and Cloud.”

Ilyo’s voice took on a solemn tone as she continued.

“There was originally a sword named Crimson Flame, but its whereabouts are now unknown.”

“Did the previous one take it?”

Jincheon asked, wondering if that man might have it. It was North Wind Commander Neung Gayeon who replied.

“The disappearance of Crimson Flame happened centuries ago. Roughly... seven or eight hundred years.”

The sheer vastness of the number made Jincheon momentarily speechless.

It was an intriguing story, but Jincheon wasn’t particularly interested in hearing more. Instead, he turned his gaze toward Wind and Cloud.

“The Palace Master’s sword, huh...”

He wasn’t even officially designated, and perhaps only provisional — was it really alright for someone like him to touch it? But seeing Wolyo holding the case ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) so reverently, he felt too guilty to delay any further.

Jincheon slowly extended his hand toward the sword.

Tap.

The cold sensation of the scabbard met his palm.

Lifting the sword, Jincheon grasped the hilt with his other hand and drew the blade.

Shiiiing.

With a soft, metallic sound, the blade revealed itself.

“Oh.”

A murmur of awe escaped Jincheon.

The straight blade gleamed under the lantern light, displaying its beauty in full clarity.

It was his first time seeing a sword up close like this. The sharpness of the blade brought with it a chilling clarity that made it hard for Jincheon to look away.

Meanwhile, silver-haired Wolyo, still kneeling with the case, quietly stepped back.

Jincheon surveyed his surroundings and gave the sword a few light swings.

Whish. Whiiish.

The blade sliced through the air, making a clean, whistling sound.

A random old saying popped into his mind — “Even a fool, once holding a sword, can’t help but swing it.”

It felt oddly true. Not just the sword — but even the out-of-place role of ‘Palace Master’ had begun to feel familiar in its own way.

“Not bad.”

Jincheon murmured after a few experimental swings.

Truthfully, he didn’t know much about swords, but it sat well in his grip and felt lighter than expected. Swinging it came with no difficulty.

“Now that I’ve held it...”

While he was at it, he figured he might as well try performing the Yongcheon Sword Art.

Slide.

Jincheon took the first stance of the Yongcheon Sword Art. Gi Seoran had referred to this as the “Opening Posture.”

“Well, it won’t look great...”

He had never even held a sword before, let alone learned a sword form.

The idea of performing it — and poorly, at that — in front of masters, true masters, was honestly embarrassing.

But as the sages said: “There is no shame in learning from those below.”

“It’s my first time — what do they expect?”

One must recognize their ignorance to begin learning. Even if clumsy, if he didn’t try, how would he ever become familiar?

Jincheon decided to thicken his skin.

Slide.

Taking a moment to steady himself, Jincheon began to move.

Shuffle, step, swish.

He stepped forward, swung the blade. At times thrusting straight, at others sweeping wide.

He had watched these motions dozens of times — but watching and doing were two entirely different things.

His stance broke midway, and there were moments when he hesitated, unable to recall the next movement.

But he did not give up.

Step by step, breath by breath, strike by strike — Jincheon continued, stacking one movement upon another.

The two Commanders, the seven attendants, Gi Seoran, and Po Eunryeong all watched in complete silence, not even a breath escaping.

Swish.

The blade slipped behind Jincheon’s waist. Holding the final posture for a moment, Jincheon exhaled.

The first sequence of the sword form was complete.

“Magnificent,” said North Wind Commander Neung Gayeon.

Then, realizing her breach of propriety, she dropped to one knee and bowed her head.

“I have spoken out of turn. For this offense...”

“It’s alright.”

Jincheon replied in a gentle voice.

She had praised him — why would that upset him?

“Rise. I doubt it met the eyes of the North Commander, but I thank you for speaking kindly.”

“That’s not true.”

Rising again, Neung Gayeon looked at him with earnest eyes.

“To wield the sword without ever letting it go — that alone is truly commendable.”

For a moment, Jincheon was confused.

She’s praising me... for not dropping the sword? It didn’t feel like much of a compliment.

Unconsciously, Jincheon glanced around at the others.

The eyes of East Wind Commander Ak Mujin gleamed so brightly it was almost unnerving. Gi Seoran, Po Eunryeong, and even the six other attendants all nodded in agreement.

Only Ilyo’s expressionless gaze — unwavering, unflinching — conveyed to Jincheon the undeniable truth he could not ignore.