Chapter 39
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 39
Chapter Title: Don't You Know the Meaning of Equivalent Exchange?
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After heading out for morning training for the first time in ages, all I could do was yawn nonstop.
Normally, this would've been the time I'd be sprawled out on the plum tree in the Jade Maiden's Garden, sleeping in some more.
Maybe because training wasn't mandatory during the conference, there weren't many people out practicing from the crack of dawn.
It was basically a gathering of the hardcore grinders.
"Still, Senior Brother, you put up a pretty good fight. The skill gap wasn't that big, right?"
Bihwan offered me some awkward consolation as I relentlessly pounded the training straw dummy with a serious glare.
I didn't need any "you fought well even in defeat" pep talks. What I wanted was awe and praise directed at my victorious self!
"What's got you out here so early? Don't tell me it's because of that one thing?"
Uijin tossed that out the moment he sauntered into the training ground reserved for the External Peak disciples and spotted me.
They said a wordless rumor travels a thousand miles, and at this rate, it felt like the entirety of Mount Hua knew about my crushing defeat.
Hell, it might even spread all the way to that North Sea Ice Palace way over there.
I turned away wordlessly and vented my frustration on the straw dummy when laughter erupted behind me from Uijin.
Clap. He clapped his hands to grab our attention, then offered some advice.
"Today's the last day of the conference, so the sect gates are gonna be packed with people leaving. Try to avoid heading that way if you can."
So, does that mean Namgung Seheon is leaving today too?
I had to get my hair tie back before he split. Maybe I should eat and then camp out in front of the gates?
"Master, so what was the conference even about?"
Uijin answered Bihwan's question.
"Oh, they're deciding on the location for the Murim Alliance's main headquarters. That's what they've been bickering over for two whole years now."
"The Murim Alliance exists, but not its headquarters?"
"Apparently, they fought over relocating it back in the day, got into all sorts of political bullshit, and ended up scrapping not just the main branch but all the sub-branches too. Lately, though, the Demonic Cult's been making some suspicious moves..."
He cut himself off mid-explanation and shook his head curtly.
"Never mind. You kids don't need to worry about that stuff."
Of course, no wuxia tale is complete without the Demonic Cult, right?
A peaceful murim just doesn't exist.
No way this is a story where the Demonic Cult guy is the protagonist, is it? They're fighting over politics inside the righteous Murim Alliance—that's got me uneasy.
A hypocritical Murim Alliance that only chases personal gain is a surefire losing route in a Demonic Cult protagonist novel!
As Uijin led us toward the dining hall, I walked beside him and voiced my doubts.
"Why not just pick the best spot? Why fight over it for two years?"
"All sorts of interests and power dynamics are tangled up in it."
"Adults fight over the dumbest things."
"Tell me about it. If even kids get it, why can't the grown-ups?"
Uijin gave a wry smile and ruffled my hair.
"Don't grow up to be one of those rotten adults. Even if it means taking a loss, become someone who puts the many—and the powerless—first."
That doesn't jive with the current novel trends, Uncle.
These days, it's all about the protagonist prioritizing their own gains for that satisfying revenge arc.
The moment the MC takes a hit, readers are out with "this is turning into corny drama, I'm done."
* * *
Namgung Seheon spotted me waiting by the sect gates and came rushing over with a smile bright as sunshine.
Where'd that arrogant prick go who smirked and asked who the strongest guy here was?
"Huh? Don't tell me you're here to see me off?"
I snorted and snatched his wrist, ignoring the hopeful look on his face.
"Yeah, right. Hand over my hair tie."
I lifted his arm, and sure enough, his sleeve slid down to reveal my hair tie wrapped around his wrist.
Why the hell was this guy treating someone else's hair tie like a bracelet?
He flailed desperately to block my hand from unwrapping it.
"You're trying to take away this precious hair tie we've shared for four whole years?"
"What're you on about?"
"This hair tie's spent more time with me than with you at this point. I can't get used to a bare wrist without it anymore."
I was so flabbergasted I lost my words for a second.
How was this hair tie thief brazening it out like this?
Was it not that he stole my hair tie, but that I was trying to steal his?
I'd bet Uiseong's emergency fund stash that his first love wasn't me—it was that damn hair tie.
Nothing else explained this nonsense.
"Equivalent exchange!"
He reached out, undid my hair just like four years ago, and swiftly pocketed the tie.
Then he unwrapped a red flower-ornamented hair tie from his own wrist and handed it to me.
Caught off guard, I ended up losing my hair tie again and staring blankly at the flower-adorned one now in my hand.
The worn-out, frayed state of it made my head spin. Endless mercy, endless mercy.
It was even snapped in places. Now I got why he'd kept it wrapped around his wrist.
This was straight-up "Hey fatty, here's my old house—gimme your new one" levels.
Don't you know what equivalent exchange means?
Oblivious or not to my deadpan stare, he flashed a mischievous grin, backed away hurriedly, and waved.
"If you wanna get it back, come visit the Namgung Family next time!"
"Yeah, yeah, I'll swing by, so clean your neck and wait for me."
With that farewell, he used his father and sister as shields and headed out the gates. I flipped him off behind his back—my way of wishing him a safe trip down the mountain.
Grumbling, I tried to smooth down my hair, now awkwardly floating thanks to the loose tie. It was curly enough without this!
Then someone's hand gathered my hair and tied it up neatly with practiced skill.
"There."
I turned at the familiar, smug voice and caught sight of the long, translucent veil draping down Myeongri's back? No, Paeng Haran's.
He pulled back the veil to show his bare face and waved in greeting.
His straight white hair had clear tie marks where it'd fallen loose.
"The hair tie you just used on me—isn't that yours?"
"My hair doesn't stick up much, so I'm good."
At my half-hearted question, Paeng Haran ran his hand through his hair casually.
I smacked my lips watching it smooth out perfectly without a trace. Envy, straight hair.
"What's your name?"
"Huh? Didn't you hear it from my brothers yesterday?"
He'd blurted it out so suddenly I blinked in confusion, and he grinned back.
"I wanna hear it straight from you."
Fair enough. Uiseong had told him, and his brother passed it along. But did it matter whose mouth it came from?
Still, I gave him my name readily.
"Biyeon. That's me."
Right then, a muscular arm wedged itself between me and Paeng Haran.
"Aren't you two a bit too close? C'mon, let's keep some distance."
"Huh? Isn't that the little kid from yesterday? When'd you two get so chummy?"
It was Paeng Haran's two overprotective brothers.
Seeing all three brothers together really highlighted the mysteries of genetics. How were these guys even related?
Paeng Haran's eldest brother leaned toward me, hand extended with a grin.
"Haha, so you're our baby bro's close! Friend!?"
The overemphasis on "friend" made me desperately want to bolt from the spot.
What was this, some romance-fantasy child-rearing story where the male leads ward off rivals from the pint-sized heroine?
Even Brother No. 2 chimed in from the side.
"As our Haran's close! Friend!, we look forward to your company!"
Fuck, enough with the emphasis already. I'm gonna develop friend PTSD at this rate.
It was bad enough I didn't isekai into the child-rearing romance-fantasy I wanted—now I'm stuck side-character No. 1 treatment, and I didn't sign up for this.
I wobbled as they grabbed my hand and shook it vigorously, forcing a fish-eyed grin, when Paeng Haran latched onto their arms and yanked them back.
"Brothers, cut it out!"
"Can't even greet your little bro's friend properly?"
Brother No. 1 dropped his hand right away, as if scared of hurting his dongsaeng, and mumbled an excuse timidly. My eyes chilled at the sight.
Paeng Haran, clearly harboring a ton of pent-up frustration, unleashed on them.
"Is this how you greet someone? You're scaring off what few friends I have!"
"That's on them for being weaklings. You gotta toughen up anyone hanging around a frail kid like you!"
"So you give them shit every time and force them into training like that?"
He was panting hard by the end, and Brother No. 1 immediately smacked Brother No. 2.
He rubbed Paeng Haran's back to help him catch his breath, then stepped back two paces with a "go say hi to your friend."
Two paces.
This family was anything but normal.
From a third-party view, these romance-fantasy brothers were straight-up lunatics. Top culprits in ruining their dongsaeng's social life.
"See you next time."
"When?"
My goodbye got a question instead of a reply.
How the hell should I know when? Either you come to Mount Hua, or we meet at the next gathering of later-generation disciples.
"I'm on borrowed time, y'know? Promising some far-off future is tough for me."
Once that Nine Yin Severed Meridian curse lifts, all this'll be prime black-history material for blanket-kicking later. How's he gonna live it down?
I still couldn't roam freely from Mount Hua, so no firm promises. As I hesitated, Paeng Haran asked again.
"How about the next Murim Alliance conference?"
"Not like I can go just 'cause I want to."
I scratched my head. After all, I was just a third-generation disciple—the lowest rung in the sect.
None of the other nine sects had brought any third-gen kids this time. Why would Mount Hua take me?
Back when I was a non-formal disciple as a kid, sure, but now? No special privileges.
Paeng Haran beamed at my answer.
"No worries. If I want it, it'll happen. See you then."
Enviable, that. Living selfishly with zero consequences, getting whatever he wants.
Plus, his "fatal" illness had high mortality in-world but was just a nylon terminal affliction—bound to get cured by some fateful encounter thanks to that Nine Yin Severed Meridian.
Oh Primordial Heavenly Lord, why'd he get isekai'd into the child-rearing romance-fantasy instead of me?