Chapter 83
Chapter 83
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 83
Chapter Title: Art and Love (3)
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Jang Ok-gi got busted for running an illegal rabbit racetrack.
He wrapped up his house arrest and community service, then landed a job.
And he threw himself into work day and night, vowing all the while.
‘I’m going to marry my job!’
That oath lasted all of three years before it shattered.
Jang Ok-gi ended up in an arranged marriage.
His parents pushed so hard he had no choice.
His bride hailed from the Goldsmith Sect—a Triple Spirit Root Holder of the Geum family.
She was about two years younger than Jang Ok-gi.
She’d visited the Scripture Pavilion on sect business during her studies abroad and fallen head over heels for him at first sight.
Truth be told, Jang Ok-gi was fairly handsome.
As long as he kept his mouth shut.
The Geum girl, unaware of his past escapades, saw only his diligent devotion to work and made her move.
She bombarded her parents back at the Goldsmith Sect with over a hundred letters, and voilà—mission accomplished.
It just so happened the two sects were pushing for a merger at the time.
The pair tied the knot in a joint wedding ceremony.
For the record, Jang Ok-gi still hadn’t laid eyes on his bride.
At twenty-three, the fresh groom Jang Ok-gi steeled himself.
A bride I’ve never even seen...
Talk about a marriage against my will.
Still, a husband’s got to do his duty.
Time flew, and before he knew it, they’d been married twelve years.
Kids: son, daughter, daughter, daughter, son, son, daughter.
Jang Ok-gi was now father to seven.
His wife was just too beautiful to resist.
Grateful for his parents’ insistence on the marriage, he threw himself into mastering bedroom arts.
He’d always been weak to pretty faces, ever since he was a boy.
Jang Ok-gi’s eldest daughter, Jang Seonhwa, was born of love.
Her hobbies: reading and tending to her pet rabbit.
Lately, she’d taken an interest in puppetry.
Jang Seonhwa turned ten this year.
Old enough to attend the village school, like all the other kids her age.
Her teacher was Ho Hye-mun.
She was the girl Seoran had run into.
Jang Seonhwa the avid fan had unwittingly saved her favorite novel from serialization hiatus.
And so Seoran set off on her journey, and summer arrived.
On her usual way to school, Jang Seonhwa heard Ho Hye-mun say,
“Oh, Seonhwa. Your spirit root sprouted overnight.”
Jang Seonhwa was thrilled.
“Really? Does that mean I can become a puppet master too?”
“Of course. Train hard, achieve Foundation Establishment, and you’ll be crafting real puppets in no time.”
Jang Seonhwa pulled a rabbit puppet from her bosom and gazed at it.
A toy made by mortal hands—nothing more, for now.
But starting today, she would become a cultivator.
Jang Seonhwa asked excitedly,
“Teacher, what’s my spirit root aptitude like?”
Ho Hye-mun, checking her meridians, replied,
“It’s a Single Spirit Root.”
The Black Bamboo Sect lost its mind again, and the leadership convened once more.
“Single Spirit Root! Another Single Spirit Root!”
“Where does heaven’s fortune flow? Straight to us!”
“Farewell! We’re off—to the immortal realm!”
A festival with zero decorum.
Every now and then, they needed to let loose like this.
Once they’d had their fun, the leaders sobered up.
“It’s been about twenty years since Liu Susa joined, right?”
“Already? Time flies.”
“Finding Single Spirit Root Holders every twenty years...”
Someone raised an objection.
“Shouldn’t that make it our first in three hundred years?”
“Why the discrepancy?”
“Liu Susa’s from Yu Nation, isn’t he?”
“Oh, right.”
A common mix-up among Black Bamboo Sect members.
Seoran wasn’t from Yang Nation.
*****
Southwest region of Yang Nation.
This area was famous for its duck cuisine.
So delicious even royalty made the trip.
Seoran fidgeted idly with her chopsticks in anticipation.
Naturally, she was waiting for the roast duck.
“The duck’s taking forever...”
She’d been looking forward to it for twenty years—and now it was finally here.
Seoran, a Foundation Establishment cultivator back then, had since reached Core Formation.
The cooking seemed to drag on eternally.
Seoran took a deep breath to steady herself.
“Phew...”
She pulled a book from her bundle.
A tome on Primordial Spirit rituals that Yeomujin had given her years ago.
So well-thumbed it was falling apart.
She opened to the first page with a calm mind.
‘Become human before you become immortal.’
The familiar opening line.
Not an original quip from the author—just a famous adage passed down in the cultivation world.
As Seoran read, the food arrived.
The serving staff paused for a moment.
The four puppet sisters’ outfits looked suspicious.
Each wore a wide-brimmed hat and thick veils.
All to conceal their nature as puppets.
For reference, Seoran was dressed like a wealthy young lady.
At a glance, they resembled a noblewoman and her escorts.
She’d figured a solo visit might get her turned away, so this ruse was necessary.
The staff cleared out, and the meal began.
Roast duck, smoked duck cold platter, duck soup, and more.
Seoran savored it like a true gourmet.
“Delicious, so delicious!”
The duck dwindled bit by bit.
Then a stray thought crossed her mind.
Sure, it’s tasty...
But worth a royal visit?
Honestly, I’m not sold.
Just then, voices drifted from the next room.
“It just doesn’t taste like the old days.”
“Been like this ever since the head chef changed, years ago.”
“The previous chef was a real master.”
“Yeah, royalty came all the way for it.”
“What’s that retired chef up to these days?”
“He’s past sixty—what do you think?”
“Fair. Probably just watching his grandkids play.”
“Heard his health’s failing—not long for this world.”
Eavesdropping on the conversation, Seoran felt the weight of time.
Twenty years was a blink to a high-realm cultivator.
But not to mortals.
Two full decades—enough for mountains to change.
A famed chef had risen and faded into retirement.
Now just an old man awaiting death.
Seoran sensed time’s ruthlessness.
And a presence she’d long ignored came to mind.
Her blood kin from the past—family parted long ago.
It had been over twenty years since she’d been taken as a slave girl.
Her parents must be in their sixties now.
Old enough that they could drop dead tomorrow.
Sudden melancholy washed over her.
Seoran had always found family alien.
Same in her past life, same in this one.
Even after dying and reincarnating, nothing changed.
Even reborn as a girl, she’d tried.
Failed every time.
Family never felt familiar.
Maybe it was a remnant of her past life.
Seoran often wondered if exchanging love wasn’t some skill she’d never learned.
Something she simply couldn’t do.
The half-eaten dishes grew cold.
Seoran finished brooding and rose.
She couldn’t keep ignoring it forever.
To avoid regrets later, a visit home seemed necessary.
Seoran headed for Yu Nation.
*****
A village in central Yu Nation.
Utterly changed from Seoran’s memories.
No trace of her family anywhere.
Veiled in disguise, she inquired around.
Learned they’d left the hometown.
The Liu family had relocated to a nearby city.
In the city, Seoran sought them out.
Finding the place was easy.
They lived in one of the grandest mansions around.
Her tenant-farming family had blossomed into a proper clan.
Likely thanks to the wealth from Black Bamboo Sect.
Seoran stood quietly before the estate.
Deep in thought.
They look plenty well-fed and prosperous.
Do I really need to go inside?
I can’t even show my face because of sect laws.
She leaned toward leaving.
Then the gates swung open, and someone emerged.
A pretty girl who could’ve been Seoran’s twin.
Dressed in fine silk, trailed by a string of servants.
Curious, Seoran asked a nearby beggar,
“Is that girl from the Liu family too?”
The beggar bowed politely to the veiled noblewoman.
“Yes, indeed. The Liu patriarch’s most treasured great-granddaughter. They say she looks just like his youngest daughter—the one taken as a slave girl long ago. He dotes on her endlessly.”
Seoran asked the beggar a few more questions.
The girl’s grandfather was Seoran’s eldest brother.
On the family tree, that made her a direct descendant.
Uncannily similar, though.
Seoran pressed,
“Looks like the kidnapped youngest?”
“Folks say she’s the spitting image of the portrait.”
“A portrait?”
Seoran was puzzled.
She had no memory of one being painted.
A poor tenant family—where would the money come from?
The beggar explained.
“There’s a famous tale. After settling in the city, the Lius summoned every painter around first thing. Threw around a fortune in gold and silver.”
“And then?”
“With all the city’s artists gathered, they made an odd request: paint a portrait of a youngest daughter who never existed. Based purely on family descriptions of her looks.”
“And?”
“With that much money poured out? Impossible to fail. They say money moves ghosts. In the end, they got a portrait to their satisfaction.”
Seoran silently handed over a fistful of coins.
A silver ingot would’ve drawn unwanted attention.
The beggar thanked her profusely.
Seoran waited for nightfall.
Then, cloaked in concealment arts, she infiltrated the estate.
After searching, she found the portrait.
It hung in the old couple’s bedroom.
Seoran gazed at it quietly.
A smiling fourteen-year-old Seoran stared back.
Not so different from her thirty-five-year-old self now.
Glancing around, she spotted something odd.
Right in front of the portrait, the floor was worn smooth in one spot.
Like the shape of human footprints.
Seoran stood on the worn patch.
Looking up, the portrait faced her directly.
It was obvious.
This was the best spot to view it from.
The old couple must have stood here, missing their daughter.
Right where Seoran stood, for untold years.
What thoughts had run through their minds as they gazed at the painted girl?
Seoran wept silently before her own portrait.
She couldn’t pinpoint why.
People cry when they’re happy, and when they’re sad.
But one thing was crystal clear.
The thing she’d never learned as a child in her past life.
The thing she’d craved her whole life but never found.
The thing even death and rebirth hadn’t revealed.
Seoran had finally learned love.
Wiping her tears, she looked at the sleeping old couple.
Faces etched with wrinkles, but unmistakable.
These were the parents who’d borne her and loved her.
Seoran cast a recovery spell, praying for their long, healthy lives.
Useless on cultivators, but different for mortals.
Their frail bodies regained a measure of vitality.
She kissed each forehead once.
A parting she’d never given before.
Her first gesture of affection to family.
Soon, only the old couple remained in the bedroom.