The White-Haired Ghost Returns (2)
I studied the White-Haired Ghost carefully.
Her killing intent had vanished, yet her wariness toward me remained unchanged. She reminded me of a feline predator—one that had stopped charging but still kept its distance, ready to bolt at any moment.
Well, even if she tried to run, I would still be faster.
“I’d like to have a conversation with you. Will you indulge me?”
When I sheathed my sword and spoke, the White-Haired Ghost’s eyes narrowed slightly.
Disappointment? What I sensed was clearly disappointment.
Because of that, I could now be certain of one thing about this woman.
“It seems I still wasn’t enough, huh? So instead of words, you’d rather speak with swords first?”
The moment I drew my blade again, her eyes softened once more.
She really was easy to read. But why wouldn’t she speak?
“Fine. I’ll play along. Though I do have one request.”
This time, what surfaced in her gaze was curiosity. Even with only her eyes visible above the mask, her emotions were crystal clear.
“I want to see plum blossoms, not blood blossoms. Your sword reeks far too strongly of blood. Aren’t you supposed to be avenging Mount Hua? Since when did the Plum Blossom Sword Art become the Blood Blossom Sword Art?”
Her eyes looked as if she’d been slapped across the face. The shock was unmistakable.
That was why I smiled and continued.
“So show me. Not the version some bastard like me mimics, but the real Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Art.”
Only after I leveled my sword at her did clarity finally return to the White-Haired Ghost’s eyes.
Now those were much nicer eyes. I liked them.
“Then I’ll yield the first move. Come at me.”
The White-Haired Ghost raised the sword engraved with plum blossoms and assumed her stance.
Then she charged, her blade sweeping forward.
With her ferocious killing intent gone, the stench of blood had noticeably faded.
And once the obsession with rage and vengeance left her mind, the inherent splendor of the Plum Blossom Sword Art bloomed even brighter.
Sword tips that unfurled like flower buds. A dazzling array of beautiful sword paths.
Watching the techniques she displayed now compared to before, I matched my own swordwork to hers.
There were twenty-four forms in total, and some were still a bit confusing, so I focused on the ones I had clearly grasped and met her blade with them.
The more we exchanged blows, the clearer her sword became. Plum blossoms unfurled.
My eyes grew increasingly delighted. And as I watched her sword, I too began to bloom plum blossoms with growing familiarity.
Late spring. Vivid plum blossoms blooming on an unnamed mountain.
At some point, the White-Haired Ghost must have found her mask stifling, because she removed it.
Then, with a bright, joyful smile, she swung her sword with fierce vigor.
Hadn’t So-hye said it? That the White-Haired Ghost was so beautiful it gave her goosebumps?
It was true. The woman who had taken off her mask and was now smiling, lost in her swordplay, was truly breathtaking.
Suddenly, I imagined her standing on a peak of Mount Hua, swinging her sword alongside her martial siblings.
What a loss. An absolute loss for the Wulin.
Those who had destroyed Mount Hua had truly done something that should never have been done. How could they?
Regardless, exchanging swords with such a woman was pure joy.
Her tied hair had come loose, and her white locks danced in the moonlight—a mystical, pale beauty. The corners of her lips curved upward. Sword energy whipped through the air.
Plum blossoms blooming at the tip of her blade. Swirling petals. A warm spring breeze. And the path of her sword.
Yes. This was the sword.
There was no need for proper conversation. A sword could convey so much more.
The emotions she had carried. The sorrow. The resentment. The rage. The regret. The longing.
Condolences for the dead. The yearning to see them again. The sparring she had wanted to do.
While exchanging swords with the White-Haired Ghost, I came to understand it clearly.
This was what the woman had truly wanted.
I didn’t know how she had ended up shouldering the burden of vengeance.
Maybe she had chosen it herself. Or maybe it had simply happened.
But what this woman truly desired was this.
To swing her sword against someone without a single thought, using the sword of Mount Hua.
To wield her blade freely, without worry, alongside someone who used the same art.
That was why I moved my sword with even greater precision.
No matter how closely I copied the forms, I could never perfectly recreate the Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Art.
That was simply how the sword was. Martial learning was never shallow.
It was a heavy, profound study that yielded results equal to the time and repetition invested.
So what I could do was catch up to that level of proficiency as quickly as possible.
To the standard the White-Haired Ghost desired. Enough to satisfy her.
Sword met sword. Plum blossoms bloomed and fell.
In the space where the woman and I swung our blades, dozens of springs had already come and gone.
Fortunately, it seemed my sword was not lacking.
A smile still bloomed on the woman’s face.
And after we had clashed for quite some time, tears began to flow from her eyes.
Tears of joy. The ecstasy of someone who had finally achieved what she longed for.
Then, in the middle of thrusting her sword, her eyes suddenly rolled upward.
Like a puppet whose strings had been cut, she lost her balance and collapsed.
I immediately sheathed my blade and caught her falling body.
I checked her pulse and examined her condition. Fortunately, it wasn’t anything serious.
She had simply exhausted every last bit of her internal energy until her dantian was completely empty, causing her to collapse from exhaustion.
Had it really been that good? So good that she couldn’t even think of stopping midway?
Did she wish this moment could last forever?
Regardless, the woman’s body was incredibly light. Even though I held her with both arms, I could barely feel her weight.
Such a delicate woman.
Just how many burdens had she been carrying?
How had she endured that weight?
After retrieving her sword as well, I pondered for a moment.
Taking her inside here didn’t feel right. But carrying her all the way back to Chang'an seemed a bit far.
That’s right. Let’s head to Mount Hua instead. It wasn’t that far from here.
Since her weight wasn’t much of a burden, running while carrying her shouldn’t be too difficult.
I dashed along the mountain path, leaping over peaks, crossing ridges, and passing through valleys.
And so I arrived at Mount Hua—the mountain that still proudly displayed its majestic presence.
It was a peak worthy of being counted among the Five Great Mountains of the Central Plains. Though none of those who once resided here remained, the mountain still stood in the same place, watching over everyone.
The spot where a plum blossom branch had once been planted. The Golden Heaven Palace.
I brought her there and gently laid her down on the ground.
The plum tree whose leaves had all withered. The woman lying before it.
They seemed to share a similar fate, yet it didn’t feel particularly sad.
Inside this woman’s heart, plum blossoms had bloomed once more. So there was no need to worry.
I quietly sat in the lotus position, half-closed my eyes, and began to meditate.
It seemed Mount Hua Sect had chosen their location well. The terrain here was truly excellent.
The rising energy. There was something about Mount Hua’s aura that uplifted people.
Normally I might not have noticed it so clearly, but after exchanging swords with this woman for so long, the energy felt distinctly tangible.
I sat there, savoring the surrounding energy.
I wasn’t sure if “savor” was the right word, but to me it felt like a gourmet meal.
This was the first time the energy of a specific location had felt so distinctly different.
Perhaps I had grown a little as well. It was possible.
Meeting this woman from Mount Hua might very well be a fated opportunity for me too.
“Mmm…”
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed. By my senses, it was deep into the night.
The woman stirred and let out a soft sound. I ended my meditation at the noise.
She slowly opened her eyes. Realizing she was lying down, she hurriedly sat up.
Then she noticed she was in a familiar place and felt both relief and confusion.
And then her gaze turned to me.
“You’re awake.”
Her glass-like eyes stared straight at me.
They had called her the Moonlit Beauty, hadn’t they?
That title must have been created with the woman before me in mind.
The moon floating beside the half-destroyed Golden Heaven Palace. The woman bathed in its light.
Her beauty was truly breathtaking.
If I hadn’t already been tempered by the likes of Seolha, Yeon-ha, and So-hye, I probably would have been making a rather foolish expression.
Having shed the sticky, dark aura of a vengeful ghost, the woman looked at me with an utterly pure face.
What could those glass-like eyes be thinking as they gazed at me?
It wasn’t that she couldn’t speak. She had clearly called out technique names earlier.
But looking at her now, she gave off a slightly airheaded impression.
Ah. Was that going too far?
The woman continued to stare at me blankly for a while before quietly examining her own physical condition.
Then, without saying a word, she began to assume the lotus position.
And so she started circulating her energy.
Watching her, I was left somewhat dumbfounded.
What? No words at all, just straight into energy circulation?
The theory that the White-Haired Ghost was a bit simple suddenly gained some weight.
Yet strangely, I didn’t feel offended by it.
Energy circulation was not something one did carelessly.
It was a time of complete vulnerability.
The fact that she would do so right in front of me meant she trusted me that much.
So I closed my eyes again and resumed my meditation.
After all, it would probably take quite a while for her to finish circulating her energy.
It seemed she had decided that restoring her completely depleted internal energy took priority over talking with me.
The woman opened her eyes again right as the sun began to rise.
Having fully recovered her internal energy, she quietly rose from her seat, and I watched her in a relaxed manner.
And then the woman simply stared at me in silence, her hand resting on her sword.
“Shouldn’t you say something? Is it really okay to just keep staring like that?”
But the woman remained silent. She simply looked at me, then glanced once at my Dark Shadow Sword.
“You want to exchange swords again?”
At that, she gave a small nod, and I couldn’t help but laugh at how absurd it was.
What an odd woman. Now I understood why she had circulated her energy.
She simply wanted to swing her sword again. And for that, she needed to restore her internal energy first.
“Alright.”
I stood up. Well, keeping her company wasn’t difficult. I could at least do that much.
The woman stepped out of the Golden Heaven Palace and headed toward a familiar spot.
The training ground. A place that once would have had neatly arranged stone slabs.
Now, however, weeds had overgrown between the cracks, and the whole area was in complete disarray.
But none of that mattered. The woman leveled her sword and formed a sword seal with her other hand.
She looked like a woman begging to be held.
With that thought, I let out a small chuckle and assumed my own stance.
And so, the White-Haired Ghost and I spent nearly two full days repeatedly exchanging swords and then circulating our energy.