Wi Cheonsang.
.
Hidden Dragon Society member Baekdam of Mount Hua Sect kicked the door open and entered.
Blood-soaked cloth wrapped around his face.
His left hand, severed and gone.
Mount Hua Sect uniform reduced to rags.
And the one remaining eye, blazing with fury.
.
Wi Cheonsang shouted.
The feigned surprise on Wi Cheonsang’s face slowly faded.
Baekdam did not open his mouth.
But his remaining eye spoke for him.
.
Wi Cheonsang snapped the wine cup on the table and smiled.
It was no smile to wear upon seeing a comrade with limbs hacked off.
.
“Found out, huh?”
Wi Cheonsang whispered.
At those words, a sword slid from Baekdam’s scabbard.
The workers of Sangpyeong Merchant Group, who had shared joys and sorrows, drew their blades with cold eyes.
.
To think it had rotted this much, and only now was it dawning—utter despair.
“Brother Cheonsang. I trusted you.”
“...”
“More than anyone, you should know...! How faithfully I followed you!! How much I boasted of your efforts...! How deeply I respected you, the pillar upholding our Murim Alliance...”
“...Haha. Well.”
“...But now I see, you were Baek Sahyeon’s lackey all along.”
.
Even when they had cornered the Demonic Cult’s Seven Heavens, Baek Sahyeon, he kept coming back endlessly.
No matter how they blocked all supply routes to starve him out, Baek Sahyeon would emerge stronger.
Pills and elixirs steadily emerging from Baek Sahyeon’s robes during battle.
And the moment they thought they had finally caught him, falling into a trap in reverse—right up to that last fight.
In the process, all of Baekdam’s senior brothers met their ends.
Baekdam was the sole survivor.
.
“If our lord had killed you too, I might have lived this time as well.”
Wi Cheonsang said calmly.
“Well, no regrets from me.”
“...Why... why the hell did you do this madness...? I can’t understand it.”
.
“Does a man need a reason to follow heaven?”
Was that the reason his senior brothers had met their deaths?
“You bastard!!”
Baekdam finally shed bloody tears and charged with his one arm.
Wi Cheonsang didn’t even flail in panic.
The brotherly figure who had tilted wine cups with him whispered with hollow eyes.
The face of a fanatic, long hidden away.
“All Demons Return to the Sect, Seven Heavens Descent.”
****
.
Jegal Yong.
.
“...Yong-ah.”
Jegal Family Clan Leader Jegal Gyu soothed his second son.
Behind Jegal Gyu stood the bloodied Sword Sovereign.
Further back, Wudang Sect’s Sect Leader and numerous disciples held their breath in silence.
Hidden Dragon Society members who had gathered at Wudang Mountain in Hubei Province to defend Wudang were still locked in fierce battles scattered across the area.
Yet in this particular spot, beneath the plaque inscribed with “Wudang Sect,” a silence prevailed as if all fighting had halted.
.
The Blood Soul Stone in Jegal Yong’s hand.
Once in the Demonic Cult’s possession, but reclaimed through Mokryong’s prowess.
To retrieve it, however, Yeongcheon had led Demonic Cult forces in a sudden assault on Wudang Mountain.
Yeongcheon stood opposite the Sword Sovereign.
The two exchanged long gazes, like blades clashing through dozens of layers.
.
“...Jegal Yong.”
As Yeongcheon whispered, Jegal Yong flinched excessively.
His hands trembled uncontrollably.
While everyone else squeezed out courage to continue fighting.
The strategist who always preached “righteousness” and pressured comrades with sharp words more than anyone—now, before the stench of blood and fear, he was frozen stiff.
“Hand over the Blood Soul Stone. If you do... I’ll spare your life.”
“Urk!!”
“As long as you don’t crawl out again, I won’t touch the Jegal Family either. You’ll have a chance to live like rats in some corner of the Central Plains.”
Jegal Yong’s eyes turned toward Wudang Sect—more precisely, toward his father.
.
“F-Father, you...”
“The Jegal Clan Leader dies here. You can go back and become the new Clan Leader. Didn’t your older brother already become a corpse by my hand?”
At the threat, he thought surely his attitude would change... but Jegal Yong remained rigid.
.
The man who preached courage, loyalty, and justice... was weighing his father’s life against his own death.
.
“Yong-ah. You can’t.”
Jegal Gyu said firmly.
Namgung Yeon, who was with them, tried to persuade Jegal Yong as well.
“Jegal Yong, what’s wrong all of a sudden? Come over here quick.”
“...”
“...T-Trust me. We can win this battle.”
“...”
“Huh? Everyone can make it back alive. Don’t hand over the Blood Soul Stone. You know how much effort my master put into taking it? You know thousands of innocent commoners died making that stone?”
“...”
“...The justice you always preached. Uphold it here. We’ve gained so much insight from your-”
In that instant, Jegal Yong tossed the Blood Soul Stone to Yeongcheon.
Namgung Yeon felt her blood run cold.
.
The coward, blinking rapidly and bowing his head... couldn’t even look at Namgung Yeon, his father, the Sword Sovereign, or the countless Wudang disciples he had betrayed with his own hand, as he whispered.
“Th-This is the right choice, Father.”
Jegal Gyu could say nothing.
“Th-The Demonic Cult can’t be beaten. Y-Yeongcheon aside... M-Moon Lord has come too. Cheongwol is here on this battlefield. R-Rather than all die here... a rational choice, at least I—no, the Jegal Family must survive. With brother dead, our house can’t be wiped out too... so...”
.
As Yeongcheon absorbed the Blood Soul Stone’s energy, he whispered.
“Shut up and get lost. No more business with you.”
“...”
Jegal Yong fled in haste at those words.
.
Jegal Family’s Clan Leader let out a hollow laugh.
“Sword Sovereign, leave this to me and go. It’s my sin for raising my son wrong.”
The Sword Sovereign replied.
“The same sin weighs on me. Forgot Yeongcheon was my disciple?”
Wudang Sect’s Sect Leader was the same.
“I’ll stay with you too, Elder.”
.
The Sword Sovereign’s transmission rang in Namgung Yeon’s mind.
‘I won’t say it twice. Flee.’
With the Blood Soul Stone gone, no hope remained here.
Throwing a fit wouldn’t change that.
‘Without you, we can’t win the war. So go.’
She nodded, suppressing tears.
.
Yeongcheon said.
“Master. Shall we finally have a talk with your disciple-”
“-Scatter!!”
At the Sword Sovereign’s signal, Wudang disciples began dispersing in all directions.
.
Namgung Yeon fled in accordance with the signal.
Yeongcheon bellowed at the Demonic Cultists as he watched the scattering Wudang brothers.
“Crush the Wudang scum!! Kill every last one of those worm-like bastards!!”
****
.
Upon arriving in Chengdu, Cheongwol sought out the Tang Clan of Sichuan.
.
The Tang Clan retainers were busy raising their voices in awe of Cheongwol’s beauty.
‘How has she become even more beautiful...’
‘This might sound weird, but... she seems more womanly than before.’
‘Huh? I was thinking the same.’
.
‘More womanly.’
Words she once would have rejected as a sign of weakness.
.
Yet now, strangely, they sounded sweet even to Cheongwol.
Truth be told, she had learned a bit of makeup from junior sister Myeonghui.
Wasn’t this the result?
...Though Han Seojin seemed oblivious.
.
Memories surfaced of Han Seojin, who had toyed with her.
“...”
...Maybe becoming more womanly wasn’t so bad.
.
Cheongwol wandered the Tang Clan grounds until she found her target.
.
“Wol-ah...?”
Dang Soran, sipping tea in a small pavilion, widened her eyes at the sight of Cheongwol.
“Wh-What brings you here?”
“...”
Normally, rage would surge the moment she saw this thief of a woman.
Even now, the thought of her energy lingering in Han Seojin’s dantian made her blood boil.
.
“...Hoo.”
But it was fine now.
Weren’t they strangers?
She’d just think of it as one last prank from the willful Dang Soran’s low-class games.
.
Steeling herself, she said.
“Congratulations on the marriage, truly.”
“...”
“You seem to have wonderful partners. I’m glad for you.”
Dang Soran averted her gaze, pasting an awkward smile on her lips.
There was nothing to say beyond perfunctory thanks.
“...Thanks.”
“Have you made your decision, senior? It’s such big news around Chengdu, I couldn’t help but get curious.”
“Haven’t even seen their faces yet, Wol-ah. They’ll probably all arrive tomorrow... and the day after, I’ll meet them?”
“So you’ll choose one among them.”
“...”
“Then from now on, senior, no more shameful acts. Be prim and proper.”
“...Shameful acts?”
Cheongwol smiled meaningfully and clasped her wrists together.
As if bound by someone’s hands.
.
At that simple gesture, Dang Soran’s heart seemed to sink.
She felt as if a man loomed behind Cheongwol.
.
Ever since Han Seojin left for Mount Emei, Dang Soran had wondered how close he and Cheongwol had become.
It felt like she’d gotten a vague answer.
And that answer was far more uncomfortable, far more stimulating to the heart than imagined.
.
Somehow maintaining composure, she continued.
“...Shouldn’t we all refrain from shameful acts? Especially you, Wol-ah—you’re a nun.”
“What wouldn’t one do to subdue a heart demon.”
“...Then for my heart demon too, from now on-”
“-Senior can just ask your future husband to do it, no?”
Dang Soran’s fingertips trembled.
Her fist slowly, quietly clenched.
.
“...Has Young Master Seojin come too?”
Finally, the hidden truth seeped out.
Like admitting defeat, Dang Soran uttered his name first.
“Why do you ask about the Young Master?”
But Cheongwol didn’t take up the fight.
.
“Oh, right.”
Instead, she extended her hand.
.
“Give me back the hairpin. The Young Master said it’s mine.”
Dang Soran knew exactly what she meant.
The hairpin Han Seojin had personally chosen, meant for Cheongwol.
The one item he wished pinned in Cheongwol’s hair.
.
A symbol of intimate man-woman ties.
.
Was it because Dang Soran too sought a betrothed?
She felt she couldn’t let go of that hairpin anymore.
Like it was tied to her lifeline.
.
“...What hairpin?”
So Dang Soran resorted to evasion.
“Senior, your new husbands will buy you plenty of hairpins soon. Wi Cheon... Young Master? Anyway, they’ll fulfill whatever your targets desire.”
“-So, what hairpin?”
“...”
Dang Soran slipped her hand into her sleeve, grasping the sole hairpin she had cherished there.
.
Her hand shook.
She absolutely couldn’t give this up.
She could buy dozens more from Changhwa Merchant Group.
...But the hairpin Han Seojin bought was this one alone.
She hadn’t known such a greed-inducing item existed in the world.
.
Cheongwol shrugged indifferently.
“Anyway, senior. Congratulations again. Sincerely.”
Then she turned and left.
.
A conversation leaving only unease.
Cheongwol’s arrival—didn’t that mean Han Seojin had come too?
Her companion of the last fifty days.
Seeing a man’s member? Han Seojin’s was the first.
Washing in a lake? Thanks to Han Seojin, the first time.
.
Sleeping on the ground.
Eating bug-ridden food.
Exchanging idle jokes all day.
Enduring cold pressed together.
Hearing a friend’s snores.
Sleeping stuck together.
.
...All firsts with Han Seojin.
.
Thoughts she’d held back exploded at Cheongwol’s sight.
Where on earth was Han Seojin?
Had he come to Chengdu?
.
Young Master. What do you think of this betrothal?
Don’t you feel bad about it?
I... feel extremely bad...
.
The thought now struck her—if he said he hated it... Dang Soran would even throw a fit with her father one last time.
She could tell him to call the whole thing off.
Reason unclear, but still.
She trusted she could live by his standards, stake her all on his word.
Not her judgment, but Han Seojin’s—she’d entrust her body to it.
.
“Wol-ah. Young Master Seojin-”
As Cheongwol walked away, she turned back as if recalling something.
“-Oh, right.”
“...?”
With a bright smile Cheongwol had never shown before, she said.
.
“The Young Master said it’s something to congratulate too.”
...Those words seemed to shatter something deep inside Dang Soran.