I'll Find Them. Those Filthy Vermin.
“Wh... what is the meaning of this!”
The elders, outraged at seeing one of their number slap the Sect Leader without warning, shouted at Soyul — but her curt reply shut their mouths at once.
“Oh? So we should just leave him to fall into Heart Demons? I take it you're all such formidable masters, then? If a Hwagyeong master goes berserk, I suppose you'll be able to protect the disciples, will you?”
Perhaps slapping him was the only method available. Having witnessed, back in the Heavenly Demon Cult, nothing but the practice of delivering a powerful shock to masters fallen into Heart Demons to knock them unconscious, Soyul had done the best she could under the circumstances.
Left speechless, the elders and the Mount Hua disciples carefully carried the Sect Leader — sprawled against the wall, unconscious — to the Medicine Hall.
“Ugh... uuuugh...”
“Sect Leader! Are you awake?”
Cheonghyeon's mind returned to him half a shijin after the medicine was administered.
“Why does my cheek... why does it hurt so much...”
“......”
The Mount Hua disciples exchanged glances, each waiting to see who would be the first to say, You got slapped by that young lady.
Cheonghyeon's body was a hardened one, tempered through complete marrow-cleansing, but with his inner energy offering no protection, he had taken an qi-infused strike completely defenseless — and now his left cheek was swollen like a steamed bun.
When everyone fell silent, one of the elders, Cheongsan, finally stepped forward.
“When the Sect Leader suddenly fell into a Heart Demon, the young lady Kang struck his cheek and knocked him unconscious.”
“Heart Demon...? Ah...”
Only then did his final thoughts before losing consciousness come back to him — along with those inexplicable whispers.
Soyul's remark may have been the trigger, but falling into a Heart Demon over something so small was proof that Cheonghyeon himself had harbored doubts about his own usual conduct and thoughts. There was no room for excuses.
“I am sincerely grateful for the young lady Kang's help. I owe her a great deal.”
The elders and the other disciples could hardly have struck the Sect Leader at full force, even with him fallen into a Heart Demon. They would have hesitated and fumbled, and it might have ended in catastrophe — Soyul had prevented that, and Cheonghyeon thanked her with genuine sincerity.
Of course, even without her, Jauun would have managed to stop it somehow.
“No thanks necessary. I do apologize for laying hands on the Sect Leader's person.”
Not sorry in the least, but with so many eyes watching, she was merely observing decorum. Listening to her words, Cheonghyeon carefully raised himself up.
Strangely enough, his body felt light.
It was as though the turbid qi that had accumulated in his body and mind had drained away.
Having experienced a Heart Demon once and burst everything open, all that cluttered residue seemed to have vanished entirely.
Though his cheek was swollen, his body and heart both felt refreshed, and Cheonghyeon summoned one of the elders.
He remembered what Soyul had said before losing consciousness — that she wished to study the Dao.
“Cheongsu.”
“Yes, Sect Leader.”
Cheongsu Jinin, the Mount Hua elder who had shown none of the flustered panic the other elders had — not when Soyul was introduced, not when she demonstrated the Baekryu Plum Blossom Sword Art, and not even now — answered the call.
“How would it be, starting today, to resume studying the Dao alongside the young lady Kang?”
“Yes. I shall do so.”
Told not to teach, but merely to resume study, Cheongsu showed little reaction. It was the other elders who murmured among themselves.
Cheongsu Jinin.
He was the Hall Master of Mount Hua's Medicine Hall, and concurrently the Pavilion Master of Plum Fragrance Pavilion, which oversaw education.
His martial arts were on the low side compared to the other elders, but his understanding of Mount Hua's Dao and his mastery of medicine had reached heights that brooked no comparison with his peers.
Indeed, whenever the elders gathered to talk, they would joke — half in earnest —
Only someone at Cheongsu's level deserves to be called a Jinin. The rest of us are all just talk, aren't we?
And so they could not understand the Sect Leader's intent in telling such a man to begin studying alongside that girl.
“You may find yourself perceiving many new things.”
Perhaps because of the elders' reactions, Cheonghyeon added that one remark, then smiled gently at Soyul.
“Now, will that do? As for the secret manual, simply write it at your leisure in the time you spend with Cheongsu. There is no hurry.”
There is no hurry.
Act as naturally as water flowing, and it will be accomplished.
It was a thought the Cheonghyeon of moments ago could never have held — but ever since his awakening, each and every action seemed to carry that ease so particular to the Dao.
“Yes. Thank you for your consideration, Sect Leader.”
“Heheh. It's late, so wouldn't it be best to rest for today? Ah — and Jauun, come see me for a moment. Cheongsu, please escort the young lady Kang to her quarters.”
“Yes, Sect Leader.”
“Yes.”
Cho Jauun answered respectfully and followed the Sect Leader away, and Soyul, in turn, naturally trailed after Cheongsu.
And then — someone who had been watching Soyul since the training grounds began stealthily following the two of them.
Of course, both Soyul and Cheongsu sensed the presence trailing them, but neither said a word.
Only the soft crunch of fallen leaves underfoot echoed in all directions, and the two walked the whole way without a single word of conversation.
“This is the place. It is called Seolmae Pavilion. As it is the residence of our sect's female disciples, I believe it best that you stay here as well, young lady Kang.”
“Alright.”
“Then I shall assign someone to guide you. Since it is the female disciples' residence, I cannot enter myself... Myeonghua, come out already.”
At that, the female disciple who had been following at a distance of some thirty paces, hiding as best she could, suddenly poked her head out.
Flashing the hem of her black robe as she peeked out, her first impression was of a girl with not a single demure bone in her body.
Bright, clear eyes, the corners of her mouth tilted slightly upward — and on the face that broke into a grin the instant she was caught was written, plain as day: Hehe, busted?
She could pass for a beauty, but it was not the face of a gentle beauty — it leaned toward the troublesome sort. The kind of face that looked like it could cause trouble a dozen times a day and still smile away, utterly unbothered.
“How did you know, Elder? My stealth was perfect!”
“Hmm. You should train a little harder.”
“Hing...”
She pretended to wilt, hanging her head — but even so, her eyes kept darting sidelong glances at Soyul.
Seeing this, Soyul gave a small shake of her head.
Women were exhausting enough as it was, but a woman like that promised to be even more exhausting.
“I am Myeonghua, a second-generation disciple of our sect. I will be your guide. If you wish to visit tomorrow, just come to my quarters at whatever time suits you. Well then.”
The moment she finished speaking, she spun on her heel. Soyul, who had been about to ask, And where exactly are your quarters?, hesitated at the sight of Myeonghua's beaming smile.
Right, I can just ask her. Whatever.
Seeing this, Myeonghua smiled and struck up a conversation.
Was she simply the cheerful, outgoing type by nature, or was she like this only with her? It was hard to tell.
“Unnie! Shall we eat first?”
“Un...nie?”
Flustered by a form of address she had never once heard in her life, Soyul stammered, and Myeonghua burst out laughing.
“Ei~ One look and I can tell you're older than me. How old are you?”
“Twenty-five.”
“I'm twenty-four! So you are my unnie!”
“Th... no. That form of address is a bit... well.”
“Ah~ it's fine! I'm calling you that because I want to!”
It's not fine, though?
Driven by an instinctive sense of resistance, Soyul tried to refuse — but it seemed the sort of argument that simply wouldn't work on this one.
Then, suddenly, Soyul remembered how, when she'd first met Cho Jauun, she had teased him relentlessly over what to call him.
Hmm. Now that I'm on the receiving end, I feel rather sorry for Jauun...
“Oh, but Unnie — you were so cool earlier.”
“About what?”
“You said you'd give us back our real sword art, and when you demonstrated it, it was really... really like a legendary master come to life. How can you wield a sword so beautifully? Oh, and slapping the Sect Leader was so cool too! A Hwagyeong master, in one strike! How does someone get that strong? Who was it that taught you swordsmanship, Unnie?”
Hearing all this, Soyul finally understood why this female disciple called Myeonghua was so interested in her.
She had arrived only to watch the elders wail and the Sect Leader get slapped right before her eyes — so to her, Soyul must have seemed like some mysterious master who had appeared out of nowhere.
And with her characteristic perceptiveness, Soyul realized she didn't need to answer every question that had tumbled out at once, and replied simply.
“Well. Just train hard, I suppose. You seem plenty strong already, Taoist Myeonghua.”
“Hehe. Do you think I could? Come on, Unnie, let's go eat. The food at a Daoist temple isn't all bland, you know.”
With that, Myeonghua linked arms with her without a shred of hesitation.
The soft sensation against her arm — for the first time in either of her lives — was unmistakably not the texture of a robe, but of something beneath it, and Soyul's whole body went rigid.
She had thought herself dulled to it, being a woman's body now, but another woman's body pressing close was a stimulus beyond anything she'd imagined.
“Huh? What's wrong with you, Unnie? Come on, let's go.”
And so Myeonghua half-dragged the frozen Soyul toward the dining hall, never once letting go of her arm.
After seeing Soyul to her quarters, Cheonghyeon and Cho Jauun — no, Cho Youngbin — sat facing one another.
“Now, tell me.”
At the sight of Cheonghyeon personally brewing and serving the tea, Cho Youngbin grinned.
“How could I possibly accept such an honor?”
“Heheh. Then put it down, won't you? Enough with the act — tell me plainly what happened. Where did you come across that young lady?”
At the question, Cho Youngbin lifted his cup, savored the fragrance, then took a sip.
The delicate aroma filled his mouth.
“Your tea-making is still better than your swordsmanship. Yes.”
“Don't change the subject.”
“We haven't known each other long. A little over a fortnight?”
“Is that so? And yet you seemed remarkably close. You called her a friend, didn't you?”
“Well, what was I to do? She suddenly asks my age — I can hardly say I'm past sixty, can I? So I just said twenty-five or so, and then she insists she's the older one and demands I call her nuna. Being friends is a bargain, at that rate. Heh heh.”
At the sight of Cho Youngbin smiling and raising his cup again, Cheonghyeon smiled back.
“Must have been fun. Running away from home, hiding your martial arts to avoid getting caught, and spilling seed across the countryside with a young lady half your age.”
“Harder than I expected.”
“Hahaha. The joke—”
“It wasn't a joke...”
And so the two, reunited after so long, cast off for this one moment the heavy titles on their shoulders and became nothing but carefree boys, chattering away.
“Ah, but why does that young lady go about dressed like a courtesan?”
At that suddenly remembered question, Cho Jauun's face stiffened in an instant.
Rage was surging up at the nameless dogs who wore the mask of the orthodox faction.
“The young lady Kang is a courtesan who escaped from a pleasure house.”
At those words, Cheonghyeon's brow twitched.
Surely not, he had thought — but a courtesan, after all? Then what in the world was that martial art?
“How can a courtesan be a peak master?”
“There were these dogs strutting around with an orthodox sect's signboard hanging over their door. Apparently they kept her locked up and forced her into the courtesan's trade. Then she met your ancestor, escaped, and — from what I hear — received his martial arts.”
There is a thing called confirmation bias.
People believe what they want to believe, and when some small detail surfaces, they interpret it in the direction of what they already believe.
Cho Youngbin's state right now was exactly that.
Soyul had never said anything like I was a courtesan. The orthodox bastards tormented me. — and yet, based on what he had inferred, that was precisely what he had come to believe.
And what of Cheonghyeon, hearing this story secondhand?
He could hardly imagine that his friend — the True Pine Sword Emperor, a warrior who had reached the realm of Hwagyeong — would spout nonsense.
So this reaction, too, was only natural.
“Hoo. So such murderous bastards exist. And your ancestor? Did he teach her the arts and simply leave?”
“Couldn't ask. The moment the past comes up, she has a fit — I took a beating for it at first, you know. My ribs still ache.”
At that, Cheonghyeon chuckled, laughing in a way not at all befitting a Taoist.
“Well, well. The two of us have each taken a slap from the young lady Kang. I'd best not ask about her past either. It'd be unfair if I were the only one hit twice.”
“Hmm. I'd best be careful not to fall into a Heart Demon myself, then.”
Once more the two faced each other, giggling like children.
“So what will you do now? Stay a few more days? Or will you be leaving?”
“I intend to leave.”
“Hmm. Still, since you've come all this way, wouldn't it be nice to stay a few days?”
At the sight of Cheonghyeon so plainly disappointed that his long-lost friend meant to leave at once, Cho Youngbin burst into a hearty laugh.
“Heheh, we'll be seeing each other again soon enough. There's something I simply must do.”
“And what might that be?”
“I'll find them. The filthy vermin who dared wear the orthodox faction's mask, imprisoned my friend, and trafficked in human lives.”
As Cho Youngbin spat his rage at enemies who did not yet even have faces, a killing intent glinted in his eyes.