Chapter 21
Chapter 21
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: Black and White Sword Ghost (5)
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The village known as Huahyeon Valley was fortunately home to a proper inn. No sooner had Tang Ha-eun settled into a seat on the top floor—reunited with everyone after so long—than she began gulping down alcohol with gusto.
Of course, every gesture brimmed with the refined grace befitting a young lady of a prestigious clan, but the sheer volume she drank made "gulping it down" the only fitting description.
Nangong Serin, the Heavenly Firmament Boundless Sword hanging at her waist, gently cautioned Tang Ha-eun.
"Aren't you drinking a bit too much?"
Tang Ha-eun widened her clear, sober eyes at her.
"I'm from the Tang Clan of Sichuan. Alcohol's just another poison—it doesn't faze me."
"...Miss. Last time, though—"
"Eek."
When her childhood friend Wang Hui, seated beside her, pointed it out, Tang Ha-eun let out a strange squeak and covered her mouth.
She poured another round but didn't drink it—instead, she stared intently at me. Her gloomy, swamp-like eyes seemed to suck in the lamplight. The mood grew strange. Usually, this was when a bombshell dropped and the gathering broke up. Tang Ha-eun parted her reddened lips slightly.
Thud. Her forehead hit the table as it slid down.
"I'm sorry."
I was utterly bewildered.
"What brought this on all of a sudden?"
"Well..."
Everyone stared at Tang Ha-eun in shock, while only Wang Hui sighed deeply, as if she understood. After hemming and hawing, Tang Ha-eun downed the glass she'd poured earlier and continued.
"...I lost it."
Only then did I understand her reaction.
"Ah, you mean that thing?"
"Yes, exactly. Things were so chaotic back then that I couldn't stop my father from taking it, but now that I've thought it over, I can't see any way to pay it back."
"Hmm. So your father took it. Do you know where he went with it?"
"Shaolin Temple..."
"As expected."
My guess had been right, it seemed.
It was awkward for him to hold onto the item, and he didn't know where to return it to me, so he'd left it at Shaolin Temple and hoped they'd handle it.
Not that there wasn't something shameless about it, but I had no intention of seeking revenge.
From his perspective, a royal artifact had suddenly dropped into his hands—he'd want to offload it as quickly as possible, no matter what.
I understood.
At the same time, I subtly tilted my head and whispered to Seo Yul-hye.
-The item she says she lost is the divine armor you have. Don't take it out until I say so.
Seo Yul-hye nodded without question. She'd never once doubted or opposed any of my actions. I was grateful for that.
I glanced at Wang Hui, who had slyly bowed her head alongside us, and pondered. For some reason, mischief bubbled up in me.
As I thought it over, Nangong Serin spoke up with a resolved expression.
"Um..."
If there was something Tang Ha-eun needed to repay, she'd lend her strength too, so please forgive her—that was the gist.
Her pure kindness matched her innocent looks. It made me feel ashamed of myself for scaring her like a kid. I clicked my tongue and lifted the two of them up.
"Actually, it's fine."
I glanced at Seo Yul-hye, who promptly drew the divine armor from her bosom.
Tang Ha-eun's eyes bulged as wide as they could go, her mouth falling open. I could feel her vivid shock.
"Wh-what? Why is this...?"
"I managed to get it back somehow. I was about to tell you earlier, but your reaction was so funny I watched a bit longer."
"No way!"
Tang Ha-eun, who'd been on the verge of bursting into tears, relaxed with relief and playfully poked my shoulder.
"What the heck, seriously. You scared me."
It wasn't intentional, but her breath mingled with mine, making it oddly intimate. Seomireo glanced at Seo Yul-hye. She showed no reaction to something like this.
With the weight off her mind, Tang Ha-eun was now in high spirits again, downing more alcohol.
That's what made her so distinctive.
Every time I saw Tang Ha-eun, she had this dangerous yet strong vibe.
Her actions, her speech patterns. She reminded me of that girl I'd met at a bus stop at 3 a.m., smoking a cigarette while holding a dog's leash.
Having played the game, I knew she wasn't that kind of person, but if I'd met her in Korea, I'd have done everything to avoid getting involved. She gave off that vibe of a risky past. Max out her looks on top of that feel, and you'd get her face.
"...What are you thinking about so intently?"
As I mulled over these creepy thoughts like a pervert, Seo Yul-hye sidled up. It was awkward to admit I was admiring another woman's face, so I brushed it off.
"Just... isn't this atmosphere nice?"
"Ah, yes. It is fun."
"That's why I was watching. To commit it to memory."
Wandering the jianghu, forging bonds with fellow wanderers, sharing a drink with the wind.
That's what I felt.
The sun had set, and lanterns began to light up the village. It was the view from outside the inn. On this chilly winter night, the slight buzz chasing away the cold—whether from the alcohol or the company—was hard to distinguish.
Under the table, Seo Yul-hye quietly took my hand. It felt good, but I pretended nonchalance and scanned the room. Evening rush hour—guests were flooding in.
The most popular dish was something oddly named horo-gae, which apparently required grilling, steaming, and boiling chicken to bring out its full flavor. We ordered one. Influenced by nearby Sichuan, it had a strong spicy aroma, and Tang Ha-eun wielded her chopsticks extra vigorously.
Wang Hui did the same.
Meanwhile, Nangong Serin, who didn't care for spice, picked at the few pale foods and sipped her tea. She deftly fended off Tang Ha-eun, who was half-drunk and pushing alcohol and red-hot dishes on her.
And amid it all, Seomireo made sure to eat plenty of her share.
Suddenly, I thought how nice it would be if this time lasted forever.
Everyone has those moments in life they wish wouldn't end. Moments you want to capture in a photo and keep eternal. This was exactly that.
Under the soft crimson lighting, faces I'd never see again if I returned home were chatting awkwardly yet warmly.
The mood was at its peak, with all sorts of chatter flying, when...
Questions poured in: how we met, what was so great about each other, what dating felt like. Seo Yul-hye laughed it off coolly, but her face flushed red as she sank lower.
Even the kind Nangong Serin grumbled about how her brother's recent letters reeked of arrogance, boasting about gaining absolute power.
Tang Ha-eun scanned the whole group with a curious look and spoke.
"Isn't it weird? We're all here looking for someone."
She pointed at herself.
"For starters, I came looking for that uncle over there."
Next, her finger shifted sideways. She turned to look at Nangong Serin.
"Serin-unnie's looking for some old man too, right?"
"Yeah. I have a message to deliver."
"Exactly."
This time it was Seomireo. Same age as Tang Ha-eun, and their noisy-quiet personalities meshed well—they'd grown close fast.
According to Seo Yul-hye, back at Emei Sect, she'd made weird jokes that left her friendless, but now she seemed to realize her face alone could make friends if she just kept quiet.
"My friend Mireo’s looking for a grandpa too... Huh? You two aren't after the same guy, are you? Another fateful encounter?"
Seomireo shook her head. Nangong Serin did too, simultaneously. Their faces showed it was impossible.
"Probably not. The old man I'm looking for is probably from the Demonic Cult."
"Demonic Cult? You mean... a journey of revenge or something?"
Seomireo smiled bitterly.
"Not quite revenge. Because that old man saved me when I was in danger. Our paths diverged, so it's not like I have to repay the favor, but I at least want to meet him and ask. Why he saved me. And..."
I could guess the rest without hearing it. Why he gave her the sword. She wanted to know the reason.
In my eyes, she was agonizing over whether he wanted to see her, an Emei disciple, fully corrupted or something.
Tang Ha-eun asked casually.
"But how'll you find him? Do you know his face?"
Seomireo shook her head with a grin.
"No. But I know his voice. I can even imitate it for you now."
"...Imitate it?"
Imitate it...
The word intrigued me, so I glanced at Seo Yul-hye. She whispered in my ear.
Surprisingly, Seomireo's specialty was mimicking voices. She imitated others so often—dozens of times a day—that many disliked her for it.
It wasn't the only reason she had no friends, but yeah, it'd be annoying if someone mimicked your voice all day.
Ahem. Seomireo cleared her throat, loosened up, and quietly spoke.
And out came a slightly off but eerily similar old-man version of my voice.
"If you have a sword, you swing it."
Bang! At that moment, Nangong Serin shot up from her seat.
Startled, Tang Ha-eun hurriedly checked on her.
Her face was deathly pale.
"U-unnie? What's wrong? Something happen?"
Nangong Serin panted for a moment, then closed her eyes tightly and apologized.
"...No. I must've misheard. Sorry about that. Out of nowhere like this."
"What the— you scared me."
Thankfully, she sat back down as if it was nothing, but the incident had dampened the mood considerably from before.
Tang Ha-eun fidgeted uncomfortably, then turned to me.
"What about you, uncle? Looking for someone too?"
I scratched my chin and nodded.
"Yes. I'm here searching for someone as well."
Specifically, Yuseon Taoist.
The moment I finished, Tang Ha-eun burst into exaggerated laughter, clapping wildly.
"No way! Amazing! Isn't this crazy? What's going on? Why's everyone flocking to this tiny village? Total backwater—only one legend to its name."
"Legend? What's that?"
The locals of backwater Huahyeon Valley flinched slightly at her words, but Tang Ha-eun pressed on undeterred. She answered Nangong Serin's question.
"The Transformation Pill. You know how much the Mok tribe loves that stuff."