Chapter 695: Righteous-Proper Martial Academy, Opening (6)

White-Cloud Mountain’s gentle ridgelines draw you upward until you can’t help but marvel at its mild, graceful scenery.

Because it’s inland, Henan counts as one of the warmer places even here in the Central Plains, yet the moment you step into the forest on White-Cloud Mountain it turns, as if by a lie, distinctly cooler, and an incomparable freshness comes as a bonus.

If, on top of that, a seasonal wind blows along the valley path, it becomes not merely cool but downright chilly.

The passers ascending to the Righteous-Proper Martial Academy have their spirits greatly lightened as well, and somehow a good premonition swells up until their chests grow grand.

The youngest of the Blue River Six Chivalrous, Matasa, was the same.

“Oooh, I wondered why on earth they were opening the academy in the summer, but Brother Yang, isn’t it awfully cool?”

“It is. I’ve got a good feeling.”

That is to say, at first.

You eat breakfast and get up the mountain bright and early; the pleasant feeling of the hike lasts for two hours—four at most—and for heaven’s sake even though you walk and walk, this endless uphill should show some sign of ending.

After about four hours like that, the sun starts climbing and it gets hot, and the hike goes on without end while ferocious mountain mosquitoes bite you to pieces.

Around noon everyone eats the lunches they brought; the martial personnel who were staying in the academy quarters take a breather while eating the sticky-rice zongzi balls provided by the Alliance, and then?

All the fatigue from walking the whole time piles up at once and you begin to get truly exhausted.

“Matasa, you all right? Give me the load.”

“I don’t tire from something like this.”

“Who’s worried about you? If you fall behind we’ll arrive late, so it frustrates me, that’s all.”

At the tactful words sparing him embarrassment, Matasa sheepishly scrubbed his head.

“Phew, shameless of me, but I’ll impose on you a bit, Brother Yang.”

“I’ll tack it on the tab—pay me back later.”

And with that they climbed again.

To make matters worse, White-Cloud Mountain’s profile—mild below and rugged above—at about this point slowly began to show its true colors.

The gentle trail turned gradually steep, yanking hard at their ankles and abusing their calves.

From the perspective of entering the academy, they couldn’t even rest on the way for fear of being late.

At third-rate level, sweat began to pour like rain; even at second-rate you started to run out of breath, and the tension of “Ah, this wasn’t an easy matter” began to take its seat.

“Phew, it’s rougher than I thought. But—”

Matasa looked to one side.

At the tail end of spring, amid the fully riotous green, there was a woman wrapped head to toe in thick leopard skin, boots, and gloves.

Qing had said it was the Flame Vermilion-Bird Girl, Chang Yohong.

Even while dressed in a dead-of-winter outfit that made you feel hot just to look at, not a single drop of sweat fell; though her footsteps had that peculiar languor, there was no sign of fatigue to be found.

“She must be handling flame. Even aside from that, your martial skill lags behind hers, that’s part of it.”

Of course, those at about first-rate had been in a state of “enjoying from the start” all along, simply reveling in the mountain trek.

To begin with, with the age limit of the Righteous-Proper Martial Academy, if a young martial artist under thirty had already achieved first-rate, their goal in the orthodox martial world would be to make their name, not particularly to study.

So they climbed up and up that endless uphill, on a trail that grew more and more vicious.

At last, even as the sun was about to slip westward, the blasted Righteous-Proper Martial Academy was nowhere to be seen.

Had they perhaps taken the wrong path? The way up had been a single trail with no forks, and they’d been told it was a single trail, so that couldn’t be.

Then why did the academy not show even the tip of its nose?

At the very moment when such uneasy feelings filled to the brim—

as they passed beyond the side of a cliff handsomely thrust up along the valley path, a great front gate revealed itself as if by a lie.

The Righteous-Proper Martial Academy!

“Ahhh...!” “I’ve arrived! Righteous-Proper Martial Academy!” “Ooooh!”

The morale of the passers surged, and great shouts burst out here and there.

In that instant, the day’s suffering and all such unease melted away, and in its place a grand sense of achievement filled the empty spot.

I’ve come here! At last, the Righteous-Proper Martial Academy!

It was a moment when a thrilling emotion surged up.

Thus, as if in welcome, the passers crossed the wide-open main gate, their shoulders spreading sturdy and broad, and with compact faces full of ambition they strode in with dignity.

It had been designed that way from the start.

Qing too, seeing the academy manor perfectly hidden behind the cliff and then revealed all at once, thought, Wow, they built this really well; there’s no site under heaven more auspicious than this.

And as a carpenter herself, she found it an exceedingly impressive piece of architecture.

After being told “Well done,” they ate dinner—few varieties, but laid on in abundance—and the women washed away sweat and tidied their clothing at the bath prepared upstream with a palisade; the men rinsed off simply in the valley spread out below the side gate.

And after taking a short breather while a headcount was conducted, the entrance ceremony was held in the pitch-dark night after the sun had fully set.

They stood in orderly lines in the Grand Drill Yard awaiting, and Director Yu Seonyeop of the Righteous-Proper Martial Academy stepped up onto the front dais.

“You all worked hard to get this far. No—”

After a brief pause, Yu Seonyeop barked in a thunderous voice.

“You worked hard to get this far! As of this moment your status is cadets of the Righteous-Proper Martial Academy, and I, as Director of the Righteous-Proper Martial Academy, shall deal with you as such—so is any further courteous treatment required!?”

“No, sir!” “No!” “No, sir!”

It was the cadets who answered all the more resoundingly.

At that, Yu Seonyeop let out a little “Hmph,” and smiled.

“I am the one responsible for you! And to be under my responsibility! is tantamount to being under the responsibility of the orthodox martial world as a whole! And the reason the Martial Alliance takes responsibility for you is because you are chivalrous people with right chivalrous intent who seek to establish true righteousness in the world’s martial realm! Is that not so!?”

“It is!” “Yes!” “Yep!” “That’s right!!”

Their answers rang out, CLANGOROUS, and WAAAA followed, a cheer whose great roar awakened the mountain night.

Waiting backstage behind the dais for her introduction, Qing too could not help but be impressed and thought, Mm, this is a real mess.

Even their answers weren’t unified, for one.

And who told them to raise a cheer?

Well, given there had been no rehearsal, no series of formalities carried out, it was only natural.

After the cheering subsided a moment later, Yu Seonyeop’s voice rang out again.

—Very well. Before proceeding in my fashion, I want to tell you just three things.

What is it with high personages and “three things.”

Be it a congratulatory address, an opening, whatever—once they mount the dais they always produce three things.

I thought it was only back home; I didn’t realize the history of “three things” was this long.

Well, in the Four Books the Master and Mencius and even that Sima Qian were always listing three; mm, thinking on it, in the West they even say Trinity, so perhaps humanity has some instinctive preference for threes.

—First. Chivalry comes from the heart. The high or low of martial skill, the noble or base of birth, the wealth or poverty of goods are not what matter...

—SSima Qian, in the Assassins’ Biographies, says......

—The Master said to Zilu, “Seeing advantage...”

—Looking at Xiang of the past and Cao of the present...

At that, Peng Choryeo of the rivers and lakes tossed a word.

“He’s still as talkative as ever, Mr. Yu.”

“Ah. Was that okay to say out loud?”

When Qing glanced at Priest Yu Uga and added a reply, the Mount Tai Sect daoist gave a wry smile.

“They say this is precisely why at Alliance functions you must invite the Alliance Leader. If the Leader is absent, Chief Yu has to step up, no?”

To Qing’s ear, it didn’t sound like a joke.

Because “First” still wasn’t over.

After this much on “First,” was he truly intending to go on to “Second” and “Third”? In earnest...?

No wonder Priest Yu Uga had expressly told them not to mount the dais and to wait in back until the introductions.

And then had specifically told them to bring chairs.

Had they mounted the dais, they would have had to stand ramrod straight pretending to listen without budging an inch.

—And the second is loyalty. As the Buddhists say, even brushing sleeves is an affinity; gathered under one banner and studying as schoolmates, you...

Yu Seonyeop’s words stretched on and on.

—The third is diligence. When we say diligence, that is 精進—“jing,” the character for polished rice, that is, rice washed clean of grime, and “jin,” the character for to advance...

—And also 正眞, to advance rightly; and what is “rightly” here...

—And then 挺進—this is the “pull out” 正; the example of “a needle stands out in a sack” that you all well know; to advance ahead of the crowd and stand out in prominence is called diligence...

Three diligences within the third.

Even in Gomoku the “three-three” is forbidden; at this point, even if he is the Director, hasn’t he crossed a line?

“Still, looks like it’s about to end.”

“I doubt it.” “No.”

Two instructors answered at once with the same expression, a bitter smile.

“Eh? There’s still more?”

“Listen.” “Listen.”

—Now then, that’s as far as what I wish to enjoin upon you. Ahem, seems I have spoken too much. But there is nothing bad about engraving it upon your hearts; do not think it an old man’s nagging—consider it seriously at least once. Understood!?

Yes! Yep! Understood!! The answers poured out fervently.

Well, they had endured this long; it was only natural to feel moved.

Except—

—And lastly I wish to enjoin upon you just one thing of my own. Namely self-preservation—guard yourselves yourselves. To begin with, in martial skill...

It was a surprise attack coming in with a WHOOSH.

Moreover, if you are to discuss self-preservation and you open with martial skill, then tonight you truly intend to make a night of it.

Perhaps, maybe, this was a kind of initiation rite.

The cadets must have been tired from climbing the mountain as it was; by holding the event at night, you seize the momentum hard at the outset.

The final remarks were indeed necessary words: while training at the academy, never overdo it; when it’s time to rest, rest fully; even if you have no appetite, force yourself to eat; do not engage in dangerous acts.

No matter how urgent your realm or how thirsty your learning, what use is it if your body breaks down.

In Qing’s opinion, to guard one’s body right now would be to stand up immediately and escape from the yoke of this endless sermon.

Though it had felt like a sermon that would continue forever, what under heaven is eternal?

—Mm. My words have grown too long. What I wished to say ends here.

Once more a cheer—a cheer of freedom, of liberation.

Do you hear the people’s shout?

—Now, then, I shall introduce the instructors who will teach you martial skill.

At that, three people rose from their seats.

Three people mounted the dais.

The cadets swallowed with a GULP and tensed up.

After all, with exhausted bodies and sleepy minds they’d had to listen to a long scolding—standing ramrod straight, no less—how could that not be hardship?

If you even dozed or yawned and got caught, wouldn’t you get a black mark planted on you hard even before the entrance ceremony had finished?

So of course the cadets had to be nervous.

Surely—not surely they wouldn’t mount and each say a word in turn, right?

But that tension lasted only a moment.

The dais suddenly brightened, and the cadets’ eyes went wide.

It wasn’t that it actually brightened; a radiantly bright beauty had stepped onto the dais.

It was the face of the world-famed First Beauty.

And she had been caught by Peng Choryeo—“You’re not going out to the event like that, are you?”—and had her makeup done; she mounted in an aggressive beauty posture with maximum combat power assembled.

Even tired bodies and minds were healed in an instant, and it felt like vitality was circulating.

Someone, before they knew it, let out a WAAAA!, and a fervent welcome rushed at the instructors mounting the dais.

Right then.

“Enough!”

It was Seomun-line Qing—the inner-power tycoon, the inner-power cheat—drawing her inner power up properly into a tremendous volume.

On top of that, Qing’s voice was beautiful; a sweet tone that bored through every interference and hammered into the ear—so at that stern yet beautiful, uncanny cry, they could only feel a jolt of confusion and shut their mouths.

Thus the clamor subsided at once, and then, upon the dais, the peerless beauty—flanked on the left by a massive physical-type woman and on the right by a massive physical-type priest as if they were her guards—finally parted her lips.

In that instant when all focused and fixed their eyes upon her, Qing’s cry rang out.

“This company—no, this instructor—is deeply disappointed!”