Two days later, Eun Wi-ryong arrived at the villa. Standing before Seo-jun, he clasped his fists and bowed deeply.
“I apologize for my behavior last time.”
“Oh? What’s this? Did you have some sort of epiphany in the meantime?”
Despite his words, Seo-jun noted that Eun Wi-ryong’s expression was still grim. His inner turmoil hadn’t subsided.
As expected, Eun Wi-ryong shook his head. “No, my thoughts remain the same. Only those destined to succeed will ever reach their goals.”
Seo-jun let out a dry chuckle.
“Then why the apology?”
“Because, regardless of my beliefs, rudeness is rudeness.”
Eun Wi-ryong said this while glancing upward at the sun, which hung high in the noon sky. Squinting against the glare, he asked,
“…Do you truly think it’s possible to reach such heights?”
“You won’t know until you try. How could anyone decide whether you’re destined or not?”
“…True enough.”
Eun Wi-ryong sighed deeply and looked around.
“Where’s Namgung So-hyeop?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I owe him an apology as well. I was terribly rude to him, despite us barely knowing each other.”
“Didn’t expect this—turns out you’re a surprisingly polite guy.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Eun Wi-ryong replied flatly.
Seo-jun smirked and pointed off in the distance.
“Myeong went to meet his fiancée.”
“Fiancée…?”
“You know, Hwang Bo-hyeji.”
“…Ah, I see.”
Eun Wi-ryong closed his eyes briefly, exhaling another sigh.
“What? You don’t get along with her?”
“Not at all. We’re completely incompatible.”
“That so?”
“Yes.”
With another bow, Eun Wi-ryong said, “Then, I’ll take my leave.”
“Why not stay a bit longer?”
“No. Best to act while my resolve holds.”
“Fair enough.”
Seo-jun waved him off as Eun Wi-ryong departed.
After Eun Wi-ryong left, Chun-bong approached Seo-jun from where she’d been playing nearby.
“What was that about? What did he say?”
“Nothing much. Hey, aren’t you going to hang out with your new friends?”
“No thanks. Saying hi is good enough.”
Chun-bong had surprisingly made a few friends during the banquet. It wasn’t that she wasn’t sociable; her lack of friends had been more a result of her previous environment than her personality.
“Hey, you’re not ditching your new friends just to keep your big brother company, are you?”
“If you know, you’d better behave.”
“What—!”
Our sweet, devoted Chun-bong…
Seo-jun felt a tear forming at the corner of his eye.
Eun Wi-ryong made his way directly to the Hwang Bo villa, intending to find Namgung Myeong. As it turned out, he didn’t need to knock—he encountered Namgung Myeong and Hwang Bo-hyeji on his way.
“Eun Wi-ryong…”
Hwang Bo-hyeji frowned as she saw him approach.
Ignoring her expression, Eun Wi-ryong bowed to Namgung Myeong.
“I must apologize for my behavior during the banquet. I’m sorry for ruining the event.”
“It’s fine. But…”
“I also need to speak with Lady Hwang Bo. May I?”
Eun Wi-ryong gestured toward Hwang Bo-hyeji, who scowled but didn’t object. Namgung Myeong, however, nodded readily.
“I’ll wait here. Take your time.”
“Namgung So-hyeop… Are you sure?”
“Of course. I’ll take a look around while you two talk.”
“…Thank you.”
Her face reddening slightly, Hwang Bo-hyeji bowed her head before turning her glare on Eun Wi-ryong.
“So, what is it?”
Without answering, Eun Wi-ryong gestured for her to follow. Scowling even more, she reluctantly trailed after him to a secluded spot.
Once there, Eun Wi-ryong broke the silence. “I went too far last time.”
“At least you realize that.”
“However, my opinion hasn’t changed.”
“So you’re just going to keep wasting time?”
“I don’t know. It’s not easy to give up martial arts entirely, given my ties to Jeomchang Sect.”
Hwang Bo-hyeji scoffed.
“Such a privileged thing to say.”
“Perhaps it is.”
“…What is this? You’re acting like you’ve gained some profound insight in just a few days. It’s irritating.”
“Insight? Hardly. Everything is still unclear to me.”
“Obviously.”
Eun Wi-ryong closed his eyes and sighed deeply.
“Forgive me for overstepping, but I’d like to offer you some advice.”
“Go ahead.” Hwang Bo-hyeji gestured for him to continue, her expression challenging.
“Don’t look to your mother for your purpose.”
“…That’s incredibly presumptuous.”
“I told you it would be.”
Hwang Bo-hyeji sighed. “Do you consider yourself unhappy?”
“No, I wouldn’t say that.”
“Well, that’s a relief. Hearing such complaints from a prodigy of the Sixteen Great Houses would have been intolerable.”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
Eun Wi-ryong added, “Just as happiness isn’t found by comparing oneself to others, neither is unhappiness. If I feel troubled, then it’s real for me. Denying that would be absurd, wouldn’t it?”
He stopped short of elaborating further, avoiding invoking lofty concepts like Dao . That felt too pretentious, as if he were parroting his master’s wisdom.
“…You sound like some kind of wandering sage.”
“Unfortunately, I am a sage—of Jeomchang Sect.”
“Shut up.”
Hwang Bo-hyeji glared at him.
“So, is that all you wanted to say?”
“That’s it. I just wanted to get it off my chest.”
“Unbelievable.”
Hwang Bo-hyeji sighed in exasperation, but Eun Wi-ryong felt a small sense of relief.
Nothing had fundamentally changed, but at least he’d avoided letting things get worse.
Brooding alone and taking out his frustrations on others was a foolish habit, and perhaps he’d grown just wise enough to recognize his own foolishness.
Still, as he walked away, one thought lingered in his mind.
“In the end, nothing really changed.”
The dilemma remained as daunting as ever.
During the four-day break, Seo-jun made the most of his time. He shared drinks with Un-baek of Mount Hua, finally finished sightseeing in Hanam, and generally enjoyed a pleasant respite.
And now, the final day of the break had arrived.
Seo-jun sat across from Namgung Su-a, sharing his insights on achieving the transcendent realm.
“Most of the groundwork is done. You’ve found your ‘mental focus,’ so now it’s just a matter of solidifying it. Infuse it into your qi , and once you can materialize it as a visible manifestation, you’ll have achieved your force aura .”
Of course, before that, she’d need to connect her Conception and Governing Vessels through the Life and Death Meridian Breakthrough Technique . Thankfully, that part would be relatively manageable.
The key now was solidifying her foundation before attempting to break through those meridians.
“For now, it’ll be difficult to use the Life and Death Meridian Breakthrough directly. You need to stabilize your current level first.”
“That means it probably won’t happen before the end of the Yongbong Gathering?”
“Probably not. If you’re lucky, it might happen around the finals.”
“I see.”
Namgung Su-a smiled softly, hugging her long sword to her chest.
It was the culmination of her diligent training. The transcendent realm—a level so many martial artists only ever dreamed of—was now within her reach.
Naturally, Chun-bong grew anxious.
Pulling Seo-jun aside, she whispered urgently, “H-hey! Who’s stronger right now, me or Su-a?”
“Well…”
In terms of current progression, Namgung Su-a was slightly ahead.
Although Chun-bong had also identified her mental focus, it was still a bit rough around the edges.
Martial arts progression was, after all, an inherently vague concept. The exact criteria varied depending on the individual and the techniques they practiced.
For instance, while sword aura was often associated with first-rate martial artists, not all techniques utilized sword aura.
Strength comparisons were even more subjective, influenced by factors like compatibility and physical condition on a given day.
“Right now, it seems pretty neck-and-neck.”
“Neck-and-neck? Didn’t I tell you to stop using foreign words!”
“…‘Neck-and-neck’ isn’t a foreign word, Chun-bong.”
“…What.”
Seo-jun patted Chun-bong’s head, marveling at her endearingly pure nature.
Our Chun-bong wasn’t always like this. Has she been neglecting her studies lately?
Still, there was something comforting about her simplicity. As long as Chun-bong was happy, that was enough.
“Stop looking at me like that…!”
She smacked his hand away, muttering in embarrassment.
The Round of 16 at the Yongbong Gathering had begun.
Instead of sitting with the elders of the Sixteen Great Houses, Seo-jun casually joined the younger martial artists in their waiting area.
Was this allowed? Absolutely.
“Who’s going to stop me?”
This minor misuse of authority seemed harmless enough—he wasn’t doing anything inappropriate, after all.
“Relax, everyone. Take it easy.”
Seo-jun waved off the nervous glances from the gathered junior martial artists, leaning back comfortably in his chair.
Watching this, Chun-bong gave him an exasperated look.
“Seriously! Why can’t you let people rest in peace?”
“It’s boring over there. It’s all just old folks.”
“Weren’t you the one who said you preferred being with the elders?”
“But here, I have my Chun-bong!”
“Ugh… My head hurts…”
Seo-jun was well aware that his presence here was as disruptive as a company boss crashing a staff outing.
But, well, bosses were people too.
Couldn’t they move around if they were bored? The juniors were all roughly the same age, after all.
At worst, everyone would feel equally awkward, so no one would be unfairly disadvantaged.
“What are you doing here?”
Clearly, the presiding monk thought otherwise.
Seo-jun was promptly escorted out of the waiting area and back to his original seat, where he sulked with his chin propped on his hand.
“So rigid. Shouldn’t a Buddhist like the Shaolin have a more merciful heart?”
Huh Do-jin of Wudang chuckled.
“The Shaolin are merciful, but they are also strict.”
“Bah…”
Seo-jun clicked his tongue, settling in to watch the upcoming match.
It wasn’t like he had crashed the waiting area without reason.
After all, the opening match of the Round of 16 was…
“Namgung Myeong of the Namgung family!”
His little brother versus Su-a.
“And Namgung Su-a of the Namgung family!”
Whoever had arranged the brackets clearly had a twisted sense of humor.