Chapter 162. The Essence of Intrigue (2)
The woman was beautiful. Though she was on the cusp of thirty, her cool, clear eyes held the purity of a young girl. Her slender frame, draped in elegant robes that accentuated her graceful figure, made her utterly captivating. She was a woman in whom a blazing fire and an icy blizzard blended in astonishing harmony.
The world revered her as the Phoenix of Sichuan, the Dark Heaven Divine Maiden.
"So, did you meet him yesterday?"
Her voice carried a cold, resolute edge. Like father, like daughter—perhaps she had inherited her temperament from her father's distinctive nature.
Dang Sang-a smiled at Dang Gwan's curt words.
"Yes."
"What did you think?"
"Hard to pin down in a single word."
Dang Gwan nodded. Hard to define? He couldn't easily grasp the meaning. In the first place, he didn't place much weight on her words. What mattered wasn't how she saw him, but whether the marriage would go through.
"They'll give their answer soon enough. Wait patiently."
"Yes."
"If they refuse the marriage, then perhaps another..."
"Father."
"Speak."
Dang Sang-a smiled—a transparent smile devoid of true feeling.
"I want to be alone."
Dang Gwan's eyes deepened. He stared silently at his daughter for a moment before rising from his seat.
"Even without martial prowess, there may be a path to happiness."
With that, Dang Gwan left the room. The moment the door closed, Dang Sang-a stretched languidly.
"Ahhh! God, I'm exhausted."
Propping her chin on her hand, she gazed out the window.
"Hmm, nice weather today."
Her eyes sparkled. She had spent nearly her entire life in Sichuan. Henan Province, and Daebyeol Mountain Range in particular, were places she was seeing for the first time. Perhaps that was why—even after months in the alliance stronghold—her heart still raced as if it were her first day. The striking seasonal vistas of Daebyeol Mountain only fueled her excitement further.
"What should I do for fun today?"
Even in a situation where her father's pressure might force her into marriage at any moment, she never lost her sense of joy. To her, what mattered was savoring the present. Time once passed never returned, so every day had to be lived vibrantly—that was Dang Sang-a's philosophy. Only then could she live without regrets. Even if forced into an unwanted life, cherished memories would sustain her.
Hm?
As she admired the scenery in high spirits, her eyes caught someone far off in the distance.
That person...?
A strange expression crossed Dang Sang-a's face.
Why there at this hour? The founding ceremony must be in full swing.
It was none other than Mo Yong Woo—the leader of the Tang Ma Army within the Tang Ma Myeol Sa Army's vanguard forces, and the star of today's noon ceremony at Mu Seong Hall. And... perhaps her future husband.
Interesting.
She had only shared a brief cup of tea and conversation with Mo Yong Woo. That was far too little to truly know someone. She could guess at his disposition, but it was nowhere near enough to grasp his entirety. Of course, Dang Sang-a had no intention of digging deeper into Mo Yong Woo specifically. It wasn't about him; she simply had no interest in anyone. As a daughter of the Dang family, she had long accepted the harsh fate imposed on the women of her clan. It didn't matter who the man was. As long as he was whole of limb and had a decent personality.
...Hmm.
Still, unexpected words or actions from that man could pique her curiosity. Pure, innocent curiosity, one might say. And right now, she felt it toward Mo Yong Woo.
Her eyes, honed to perfection through extreme training as a master of hidden weapons, pierced through every subtle shift in his expression.
He looks incredibly troubled. Surely not because of me.
Mo Yong Woo seemed like a good man. But like her, he appeared indifferent to his prospective partner. So it probably wasn't about her...
Well, I've got nothing better to do.
A hunch struck her. It might be fun—or at least, she sensed she was about to witness something intriguing.
Bzzz!
The instant a red aura began to emanate from Dang Sang-a's body—
Swish.
Her form shot out the window like an arrow.
* * *
"Phew, what a hassle."
He draped a high-quality outer robe over his pristine white garment. The fabric was so soft it felt almost unnatural.
It was the sort of attire many would praise as luxurious, but to Yeon Hojeong, it was just cumbersome.
"Clothes make the man, huh."
"Looks good?"
"You wear stuff like this all the time?"
Yeon Hojeong glanced at Mok Bi.
"You're not half bad yourself."
Yeon Hojeong was impressive in his own right, but Mok Bi in her archer's robes exuded a stunning beauty. No makeup, which only amplified her pure allure. Her neatly combed-back hair and toned physique, forged by archery and lightness skills, could captivate any man's gaze.
Yet Mok Bi's face was full of dissatisfaction.
"What is this?"
"What? You look gorgeous."
"Hard to move in. It'll slow down Dragon Flight Instant Step."
Yeon Hojeong clicked his tongue.
"Bear with it a little. Change after the ceremony."
"Sigh."
Mok Bi kept sighing repeatedly. Yeon Hojeong suddenly turned his head, struck by a thought.
"Hey!"
"Y-Yes? Oh, yes!"
"Aren't you changing?"
Ok Cheong scratched his head sheepishly.
"A true Taoist pursues poverty with contentment and joy in the Way, does he not?"
"Save that for normal days. It's the founding ceremony, so at least... Hey! No, seriously—why have you been hanging around here since yesterday?"
Indeed. After Seung Hyeon Jin-in departed, Ok Cheong had shown up. Without a word, he had lounged about Pa Gun Pavilion, stealing glances at Yeon Hojeong. That was it. No attempts at conversation or sparring requests. Just... there.
Ok Cheong cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Just felt like the qi around Pa Gun Pavilion was particularly fine."
"Do they teach nonsense like that at Wudang?"
"That's a bit harsh."
"Shut it! Go change and head to Mu Seong Hall! Less than half a shichen left."
"I'll go like this."
Yeon Hojeong silently raised his fist. Ok Cheong's expression turned fawning instantly.
"You're right—gotta maintain some dignity for the occasion. See you there."
Whoosh!
Ok Cheong vanished at terrifying speed. His internal injuries must have fully healed; his lightness skill was faster than ever.
Yeon Hojeong sighed.
"No normal people around me. None."
He glanced at Mok Bi. She was staring right at him. That enigmatic look said plainly, And you're normal?
"Turn your head before I gouge out those eyes, punk."
"Good lord."
"What? Spit it out!"
"Forget it? Geez, now that you're strong, you bully me."
"Anyone listening would think I never bullied you before."
"No comeback to that."
Yeon Hojeong chuckled. Then—
"Huh?"
He turned toward the main gate of Pa Gun Pavilion.
What the...?
A familiar aura was approaching at high speed. Another genius whose martial realm had surged steeply in his absence. Growing too rapidly, he couldn't fully contain his energy, making his presence all the sharper.
Moments later.
"May I enter?"
Yeon Hojeong opened the gate himself. There stood Mo Yong Woo.
"What brings you?"
"Let's talk."
Yeon Hojeong eyed him steadily, then turned.
"My room."
The three ascended to Yeon Hojeong's second-floor room. Mo Yong Woo cut straight to it.
"The founding ceremony's canceled."
"What?"
Yeon Hojeong—and even Mok Bi—were stunned.
"Canceled? What do you mean?"
"More precisely..."
Mo Yong Woo hesitated to continue. Yeon Hojeong's eyes narrowed.
"They told the Myeol Sa Army not to come?"
"...Yes."
"Hmm."
That single answer revealed how the board had shifted. Leaning back in his chair, Yeon Hojeong smirked.
"Moyong Gun's up to his tricks again."
Mo Yong Woo sighed softly.
"I told him it wasn't necessary, but he opposed it to the end."
The reason? None other than Yeon Hojeong. The one who had clashed fiercely with Yeon Wi at the inner castle's drill grounds—and surpassed Mujongjibyeok right before everyone's eyes. That alone would shock not just the Martial Alliance, but the entire world. Yeon Hojeong might think he was still far off, but reaching transcendent mastery just past his early twenties was exceedingly rare. A monstrous talent that eclipsed even the era's famed young prodigies, the One Dragon and Three Phoenixes.
"He figured I'd steal the spotlight at the ceremony."
"Exactly."
Yeon Hojeong smiled wryly, as if it were inevitable.
"Petty, sure—but necessary. I get where Moyong Gun's coming from."
"My apologies."
"No need. It's fine."
He seemed genuinely unbothered. No trace of resentment on his face. Seeing that eased Mo Yong Woo's mind. Smiling faintly, he teased playfully.
"Why spar in front of everyone, then? There's a saying in the jianghu: hide thirty percent of your skill."
"Hm?"
"Doesn't that make your brother even warier of you?"
Yeon Hojeong snorted.
"Bullshit. He's been itching to devour me from the start. We're already at each other's throats—what difference does a little more wariness make?"
"True, but still..."
"Remember this: in covert struggles, no need to hide more than necessary. Obsess over it, and you'll burn out eventually. Then a counterstrike hits—and that's fatal."
"Is that so?"
"If you've got cards to conceal, have some to flaunt boldly too. Me? I have no intention of hiding my full strength from enemies. Never have, never will."
What mattered was the enemy's character and the unfolding situation. Even as a transcendent master, Yeon Hojeong couldn't handle a faction alone. In a power struggle, it gained him nothing tangible. Unless he reached the realm of Heavenly Profound Thirteen Seats, it wouldn't sway the grand game decisively. Had tensions escalated, he would have yielded first, even if it disappointed his father.
Mo Yong Woo smiled.
"You're remarkable in so many ways."
"News to you?"
"Hahaha!"
He had come with grave news, yet talking with Yeon Hojeong lifted the weight from his shoulders. Casually, he probed.
"Anyway, truly astonishing. I thought myself quite talented, but compared to your little brother, I'm like blood on a duck's foot..."
Yeon Hojeong spoke up.
"Little brother? Wait, you have one?"
Another odd remark. Mo Yong Woo, about to protest the joke and affirm their bond, suddenly sharpened his gaze. Yeon Hojeong's hand on the chair arm pointed at the ceiling.
Hummm.
Geon Gon true energy surged sharply, honing his senses to razor sharpness.
A person?
Someone was there. An astonishing master.
"...Younger than me, so little brother. Right?"
"Wrong. I have zero interest in befriending Moyong clan folk."
"Haha, that's harsh."
Mo Yong Woo shook his head.
"Anyway."
"Speak."
"You raise cats?"
Yeon Hojeong grinned.
"I thought you were the cat."
"Spot on."
Mo Yong Woo beamed.
"Let's check whose cat it is."
"Mok Bi."
In an instant, Mok Bi's palm struck the ceiling.
Boom!
The ceiling shattered, revealing a figure tumbling down in dismay. It was Dang Sang-a.