Chapter – 07
Peng Yizhong, the third scion of the Hebei Peng family.
He had never, in his entire life, felt a thing called “fear.”
Though he was the son of a concubine, he was still part of the Hebei Peng family. And holding the title of Third Scion, he had never bowed his head to anyone in Hebei except his father.
But now, for the first time in his life, he was feeling fear—deep, desperate fear.
In fact, Peng Yizhong had just regained partial consciousness.
His body wasn’t yet able to move, but sounds reached his ears. And the conversation he overheard was horrifying beyond measure.
The voice of a child, in particular, was so terrifying that it made his blood run cold.
“Let’s bury him alive… throw him into the river… poison him until he dies… make it look like he lost in the martial contest and had no choice but to die.”
And the target of these cruel ideas was, of course, Peng Yizhong himself.
“Focus… once I regain full strength, these fools won’t even be a challenge. I am Peng Yizhong, the Third Scion of the Hebei Peng family!”
Clinging to that thought, he waited for his strength to return.
Suddenly, he felt a soft touch on his forehead, followed by a voice transmitted directly into his mind.
[Hey, Peng Yizhong. I know you’ve woken up. Normally, someone who’s hit like that would awaken around this time. Ah, but don’t jump up yet. The moment you move, a sharp sword will pierce your heart. Answer me with your mind. You’re the Third Scion of the Hebei Peng family—you can do that, right?]
This was transmitted sound (Chuan Yin), a martial technique that allows one to send their voice to a distant target.
A form of sound-based inner energy technique, only a very few masters could perform it even at the highest level.
Of course, Moyo Jin (Moyongjin) didn’t have enough inner strength to actually use it.
But using a trick he had learned from experience, he made Peng Yizhong think he was receiving true transmitted sound.
By focusing his tiny bit of inner energy through his touch on Peng Yizhong’s forehead, he made it seem as though the child was communicating directly.
[Transmitted sound…? Who are you that dares to hurt the Third Scion of the Hebei Peng family? You’ve got some nerve.]
[Oh? Even in this situation, you try to intimidate me? How amusing.]
[Child?]
The voice clearly sounded like a child’s, and the fact that this child called him “child” made Peng Yizhong incredulous.
[Wait… I’ll satisfy your curiosity.]
Moyo Jin smiled brightly, removed his hand from Peng Yizhong’s forehead, and turned to Moyong Hyuk (his father).
“Father.”
“Hm?”
Moyong Hyuk had been seriously considering what to do with Peng Yizhong, but when he looked up, he saw his son’s cheerful face smiling innocently.
“I have a good idea.”
“I already said—he mustn’t be killed in a cruel way. The Hebei Peng family is, after all, our benefactor.”
“Don’t worry. This time, it will be a very peaceful method. So, Father, could you please step aside for a moment?”
“Step aside?”
“Yes. Trust me, Father. I won’t disappoint you.”
Moyong Hyuk hesitated, but Moyo Jin’s insistence was firm. Eventually, he agreed to step outside.
Once Moyong Hyuk left, the warehouse fell silent. Moyo Jin quietly drew his sword.
Shrrrk.
Peng Yizhong flinched at the sound, and Moyo Jin pressed the sword lightly against his neck.
“This is an old sword stuck in the warehouse. It’s heavily rusted. Even a slight cut will tear your skin easily. Only respond with transmitted sound. Move even a little, and this sword will pierce your neck.”
[Alright… what do you want? There must be a reason to corner the Third Scion of the Hebei Peng family like this!]
“Want? I want many things, but first… we need to clarify our titles.”
[Titles? I’m clearly older, and you look only about ten. Are you saying I should use honorifics for you?]
“Not everything is as it appears, child. Do you really think a child of this age could use transmitted sound?”
[Hah. Don’t be ridiculous. You’re a master of Reversing Old to Young (Fan Lao Huan Tong)…]
“Exactly. That’s right. The one you know by that name—that’s me.”
Upon hearing “Fan Lao Huan Tong,” Moyo Jin’s eyes gleamed with delight. Things were going exactly as he had planned.
From the start, he had no intention of killing Peng Yizhong. Killing him would provoke the Hebei Peng family, and both he and his father would have no way out.
So he had already devised a plan: ‘Make Peng Yizhong a slave.’
He estimated a ten-out-of-ten chance of success.
[You claim to be a master of Reversing Old to Young? Yet your inner energy seems weak…]
“Do you not know about Returning to the Root (Fan Pu Gui Zhen)? Even as a child in appearance, I have attained its level.”
[Then at least lie and say you’re an immortal. Reversing Old to Young and Returning to the Root? Are you kidding me? Do you think I’m an idiot!]
“You are an idiot indeed. A fool who didn’t even notice a child sneaking up behind him, got kicked in the groin, and passed out. Now, I suppose you should be called a fool eunuch.”
[You dare to speak so boldly…]
“And immortal… I’m not exactly an immortal, but to you, I am above even immortals.”
Despite the sword at his throat, Peng Yizhong shouted insults through transmitted sound. Fear made him unable to speak aloud, yet he cursed mentally.
Then Moyo Jin spoke the name that made Peng Yizhong’s eyes widen.
[What?]
“I’ve told you before—I don’t like repeating myself. I’ll say it only once more: Tian Di Ri Dao, Peng Mu’e (Heaven-Earth-Sun-Sword, Peng Mu’e). That is my name.”
Tian Di Ri Dao, Peng Mu’e.
A former head of the Hebei Peng family, once called the strongest under heaven. A legendary figure in Hebei Peng family history.
Moyo Jin was lying to Peng Yizhong, claiming to be Peng Mu’e.
But Peng Yizhong’s reaction was explosive.
“How dare you utter that name?”
Enraged, he struggled to free himself, forgetting even the sword at his neck. His aura radiated deadly intent.
This was expected by Moyo Jin. He even knew which words would calm Peng Yizhong’s fury.
“Bei Bai Ji Yuan, Du Huan Jia Yan.”
To Peng Yizhong’s astonishment, the phrase had immense power.
“How… do you know that…?”
Sweating and shocked, Peng Yizhong watched Moyo Jin smile brightly.
“I told you, I am Peng Mu’e, Tian Di Ri Dao, Peng Mu’e.”
He couldn’t believe it. The child in front of him was Peng Mu’e, a near-mythical figure.
But every word Moyo Jin spoke forced him to believe.
“Isn’t this enough proof? My mouth is starting to tingle from speaking so much.”
Bei Bai Ji Yuan, Du Huan Jia Yan—a secret phrase passed down to direct descendants in the Peng family, never to be revealed outside. It was used to recognize long-separated relatives.
Moyo Jin not only knew this phrase, but also its full meaning and implications for the Moyong family.
He even recited the Five Tiger Gate Breaking Sword technique and explained the interconnected war formation only the family head could perform.
Peng Yizhong could only stare dumbfounded as Moyo Jin sheathed his sword and clicked his tongue.
“Tch… kids these days are impossible. Too suspicious. Forget it. I spent all those years working hard for this family, and for what? Eh, let them chant ‘Bei Bai Ji Yuan, Du Huan Jia Yan’ all day outside.”
As Moyo Jin turned to leave, Peng Yizhong prostrated himself, striking his forehead on the ground.
“The humble Third Scion of the Peng family, Peng Yizhong, pays respects to the legendary and greatest in the world, Grandmaster Peng Mu’e!”
He struck so hard that blood ran from his forehead.
Internally cheering, Moyo Jin casually sat before him and patted his head.
“Yes, yes…”
His tone was gentle, but the low voice behind it was terrifying.
“One strike is not enough to calm my fury.”
Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!
Peng Yizhong had to strike his head repeatedly, about twenty times, until the sand beneath was tinged with blood.
“Grandmaster Peng Mu’e, may I ask a question?”
“I clearly told you to use transmitted sound…”
[I apologize. I disobeyed your command due to my inexperience. May I humbly ask a question, Grandmaster?]
“Go ahead.”
[You are the strongest Taoist of your generation, the pride and legend of the Hebei Peng family. But why are you living as the child of the third-rate Moyong family in a humble martial school?]
“Ho… third-rate martial school?”
[I-I apologize again! I made a foolish mistake!]
At Moyo Jin’s angry voice, Peng Yizhong quickly bowed, but Moyo Jin was smiling.
“Haha, it’s alright. I am merciful, so I forgive you—but there is no second forgiveness.”
[Thank you!]
Receiving gratitude from Peng Yizhong, Moyo Jin effortlessly continued his lies.
His story: Peng Mu’e was not dead. He attained a great enlightenment but returned to the body of a child. And the one who took him in was Moyong Hyuk.
[Then why don’t you return to the Hebei Peng family…?]
“Parent-child bonds cannot be severed lightly. Even as a child, I faced mortal danger, yet my father saved me and raised me well. Staying by his side to repay him is the duty of a martial artist and a son.”
[Ah… indeed… Grandmaster, your words are treasures that I will engrave deeply in my heart.]
Peng Yizhong was awed by Moyo Jin’s seamless lies.
And all this was possible because the one who had actually killed Peng Mu’e, the greatest man of his era, was the Kwangma, Cheon Gi-rin.
