Chapter 36
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 36
Chapter Title: Nostalgia Filters Have No Answers
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What kind of answer could anyone possibly find in defeat?
Train harder instead of slacking off? Stick to weapons you're comfortable with? Learn to wield a sword with your left hand too?
“Damn it, no matter how much I think about it, I got nothing!”
Biyeon had told me to ask if I didn’t know, then pulled an audition show MC move by saying he’d let me know in a week!
Irritated, he shouted and roughly tousled his bangs with frustrated hands.
As I stormed across the upper hall, panting, gazes flickered toward me briefly before scattering. The conference was still ongoing, and the guests hadn’t left Mount Hua yet.
“Huh?”
Which meant that unwelcome face was still hanging around the upper hall.
Spotting Namgung Seheon gaping stupidly at me, I scowled and turned away.
“Hey! Wait up!”
A voice called from behind, but I ignored it and strode forward.
Running into the guy who’d just handed me my defeat while I was mulling over that loss? It didn’t bring answers—it just sparked annoyance.
“Hey, Horse-Nose!”
The booming shout made me halt in my tracks.
Horse-Nose. A crude slur for Taoists, from how their Daoist robes resembled a horse’s muzzle.
Think of it as the Taoist version of Baldy for monks.
A Taoist calling another Taoist Horse-Nose is self-deprecating humor. But some outsider calling a Taoist Horse-Nose? That’s not a joke—it’s an insult.
“What, Horse-Nose? Wanna get beat like last time?”
I whipped around, charged in one step, and grabbed his collar. Glaring with axe-like eyes and growling, he smirked arrogantly.
“That’s why you should’ve answered when I called.”
“Oh, so that’s why you called me Horse-Nose? Didn’t hear yesterday’s warning about watching your mouth?”
I shook his collar roughly, sniping at him in a heated voice. You nearly wrecked things between Mount Hua Sect and the Namgung Family, you idiot.
Mount Hua let it slide because they’re decent. But spouting “Horse-Nose” in a sect full of Taoists after causing that mess?
“Fine, Taoist punk.”
Damn punk.
I tossed his collar aside like trash and sighed heavily at his still-defiant expression.
“Ugh, if I get tangled up with you and fight again, I’ll really be grounded this time. So get out of my sight already.”
Namgung Seheon stood there, ignoring my jab and not going his way. Come to think of it, his personal navigator from the Zhuge Family—the one for this directionally challenged guy—was nowhere in sight.
“What, you lost?”
My sneer made his face flush red, and he yelled.
“No, I’m not!”
“Oh, really? Then find your own way.”
I dug in my ear with my pinky and turned. Waving my hands dismissively side to side, I sauntered off, feeling footsteps rushing after me.
A hand lightly tugged my robe hem, drawing a smirk.
Just like old times.
“Gonna escort me?”
I grinned teasingly. Should I say I’ll do it if he kneels and shouts “Mount Hua’s sword is the strongest” three times?
“No, it’s not that…! Though I’m not saying don’t escort me…!”
“Spit it out properly.”
Flustered, Namgung Seheon released my robe and bowed his head obediently.
“First off, I wanted to apologize again. I’m sorry for mocking Mount Hua’s sword in front of you. I shouldn’t have said that.”
The sudden apology caught me off guard, and I just blinked. I figured the only apology I’d get from him was the one the adults forced out of him.
Unlike his cocky self moments ago, he looked utterly deflated. Guess he got properly chewed out.
I crossed my arms and glared down at him slantwise. It felt good having someone to look down on for once—especially since I was always craning my neck up at my ever-growing senior brothers who were older than me.
“What the hell were you thinking, saying that crap in front of a Mount Hua disciple like me?”
“I was thrilled to have a real spar after so long, but you looked upset and stared at the ground, so I lashed out in the heat of the moment…”
His voice trailed off weakly as he justified himself, then he snapped his head up.
His cat-like eyes, half-hidden, sparkled brightly.
“No one else could even block ten exchanges of my sword. You’re the first to go over thirty moves with me.”
Ugh. I scratched my cheek under his shining gaze.
I felt the same way, so I couldn’t exactly fail to understand. How many times had I felt emptiness in spars with my senior brothers that always ended too easily?
Sparring with my master or Senior Brother Uiseong wasn’t a real match—it was instruction, and the skill gap was too wide to call it a spar.
A bout with a genius on my level after so long.
That anxious, thrilling exchange banished the boredom and futility. It had been ages.
Admit it or not, that moment clashing swords was—damn it—truly shining and fun.
If only I’d won, it could’ve stayed a fond memory. But I lost my first real fight and got an earful of trash talk against Mount Hua’s sword to boot.
“Fine, got it. Watch your mouth next time. In the martial world, one word can spark grudges and blades flying, yeah?”
“Wow, you sound just like my dad.”
Of course—Senior Brother Uihyeon always says that to me. Martial world parenting 101.
I flashed Namgung Seheon the smarmiest grin I could muster.
“But I’m a petty, narrow-minded guy, so I can’t escort you to the Jade Purity Hall empty-handed. Kneel and shout ‘Mount Hua’s sword is the strongest’ three times, and—”
“I get that you’re petty and narrow-minded enough already, and I didn’t grab you for directions. I’ve got something to ask.”
Cutting me off curtly, Namgung Seheon scratched his head and asked cautiously.
“Any girls here your age at Mount Hua? Oh, I’m eight.”
His question, clearly seeking me, brimmed with anticipation.
I remember your age, buddy. I snorted inwardly and pointed at myself with a finger.
“Me.”
His face fell instantly. He scanned me up and down, shook his head, and asked again.
“Anyone besides you?”
As our chat dragged on, certainty grew. This punk doesn’t recognize me.
He hadn’t even considered I might be that kid from four years ago.
They say you only remember the one who hit you, not the one you hit. He swiped my precious hair ribbon—my number one treasure—and forgot me?
Just seeing the box of collected ribbons makes my blood boil, instantly flashing your face.
“No Core Disciples fit. Don’t think there’s any eight-year-old girls among the Outer Disciples either.”
I knew well—hadn’t I despaired over no other girls my age among 250 disciples?
At my answer, his eyes quivered, then he drooped his head with a bitter look.
“She must’ve left Mount Hua… I wanted to see her again…”
She’s right in front of you! A Mount Hua disciple standing fine right there, you moron!
Don’t exile a perfectly healthy Mount Hua resident with your brain delusion?
“Well, she was too… for the martial world anyway.”
Don’t talk like you’re reminiscing a lost first love. As he rubbed his wryly smiling mouth with his hand, his sleeve slipped down slightly.
A vivid red gleam peeked from inside his wrist.
An antique red flower ornament.
What wrapped around Namgung Seheon’s wrist was unmistakably my hair ribbon—the one I’d been forced to part with four years ago.
“Too this, too that—give me back my hair ribbon, you thief!”
I snatched his wrist forcefully and bellowed through gritted teeth.
He flailed to escape my grip, then shot back with a furious glare.
“Hey! Who’re you calling a thief? When did I ever take your hair ribbon? I wouldn’t take it even if you gave it!”
His shout dripped with injustice, like I was framing an innocent man.
“This! This! My number one treasure you stole four years ago!”
“What?”
I jabbed at the ribbon on his wrist, and his eyes went wide.
Staring bug-eyed at the ribbon then me alternately, Namgung Seheon muttered.
“…You’re that kid from four years ago?”
He rubbed his eyes and stared hard at me, then blurted in a dazed voice.
“She was so pretty and delicate and kind and sweet…?”
The embarrassing praise made me rub my nape awkwardly.
Oh, that’s how you remembered me? No wonder you didn’t recognize me.
I was never delicate, but pretty, kind, and sweet? First time hearing that. My heart fluttered, and I fought to keep my rising lips down.
Mood swing—I’ll let it slide this once…
“You’re nothing like that—no fierce look, no sturdy build, no foul temper? You’re really her? No way!”
…My ass.
Snap! His finger-pointing shout made veins bulge on my forehead.
The thrill flipped to rage-fueled pounding.
My temper’s worse because you gave me my first lifetime defeat, and my fierce look… Hey, don’t knock what I was born with.
Looks like this punk’s got a built-in nostalgia filter on his brain.
Weren’t we the duo who broke that gossip leader’s finger together?
Your nostalgia’s so overdone it’s gone haywire!
“You’re the type who’d invite me home anytime, then not recognize me and chase me off even if I showed up!”
“Ack! It really was you?”
“Yeah, it’s me, you punk!”
I shook his collar hard for a while, then suddenly, his dazed stare at me welled up with tears.