The One-Eyed Gold Ghost
There's a high-ranking unorthodox expert in the martial world called Cheok An Geum Gwi, the One-Eyed Gold Ghost. His cultivation was at the peak realm, I believe? As his nickname suggests, he's one-eyed... and the guy is insanely greedy for money. He's infamous for extorting protection fees from mid-sized merchant caravans every year, and this time, he set his sights on the rapidly expanding Fengyu Merchant Group.
But Fengyu, trusting the Murim Alliance, rejected Cheok An Geum Gwi's demands. Word is, they shelled out a massive sum to request assistance. Well, it didn't matter—the Alliance escorts hadn't even arrived when Cheok An Geum Gwi stormed in first, rendering it pointless. By the time the Alliance showed up, everyone at the merchant group was dead, and Cheok An Geum Gwi had leisurely looted anything of value from their corpses before vanishing.
Fengyu wasn't some small-time operation, and even for an unorthodox sect, brazenly committing mass slaughter like that is rare. All for money? Naturally, rumors spread like wildfire around these parts. The Murim Alliance had completely lost face. The Alliance warriors down in the village are here tracking Cheok An Geum Gwi, or so they say. It's been quite a while since Fengyu's destruction, so he's probably long gone from the area. And yet, they're still stationing warriors here... maybe to show some resolve?
Come to think of it, not just the emblem—the uniform itself was torn and ragged all over. That wouldn't happen to a real robe made from heavenly silkworm silk. She somehow survived Cheok An Geum Gwi, but maybe she lost her mind afterward and overlaid it with fictional memories. The whole Heavenly Demon Divine Cult setup probably stems from resentment toward the Murim Alliance for not arriving in time. Hmm... even after her body recovers, I should play along with her self-proclaimed Heavenly Demon delusion for a bit. The shock from the disconnect between her headcanon and reality might be too much.
While I sorted through my thoughts, the meat porridge finished cooking perfectly. A quick taste—damn good. Plenty of it too, so porridge it is for my lunch today. I heaped a wooden bowl full, set it on the small table, and headed back inside.
Nom nom nom— Hong Yeonhwa was devouring the porridge right in front of me like a total glutton. Cheeks puffed out, bits of rice paste dribbling at the corners of her mouth.
Mmm... well, she's gotta be starving. Looks like she fled into the mountains to escape Cheok An Geum Gwi, so she probably hasn't had a proper meal in ages. I'd fed her thin gruel during her four-day coma, but that wouldn't restore her strength on its own.
Nom nom nom— But shouldn't someone eating this messily look kinda sloppy? Her base material's so top-tier that even chewing with stray hairs dangling looks cute.
"Slow down a bit. Don't get it all over the place."
I reached out with my sleeve to wipe the corners of Hong Yeonhwa's mouth. Bonus: plucked out the hair that had slipped inside. My training clothes needed washing after practice anyway, so a little extra dirt now was fine.
Man, her cheeks are so soft and squishy. Hong Yeonhwa paused her eating, meekly accepting my touch. Once I finished cleaning her up, she grumbled with a flushed face.
"This lady... this lady is not a child-ni-ra."
"I know that."
"Then why do you touch this lady's body so casually, like she's some kid?"
Good question? Why did I do that? My hand just moved on instinct. She just woke up, so it's basically like meeting her for the first time...
Ah.
"Guess it's 'cause I got used to tending to you while you were out cold..."
"Tending?"
"Remember I said you were unconscious for four days?"
"I still can't quite believe it, but yes, I remember."
Strangely, there'd been no sweat or waste, but I couldn't just let her starve. So I'd fed the comatose Hong Yeonhwa thin porridge. And wiped up any spills in the process. I explained all that.
"My body must've moved out of habit without thinking. Sorry."
"W-well, if that's the case, it can't be helped. No need to apologize-ni-ra. Just be more mindful next time."
Hong Yeonhwa's expression softened at the realization I'd been caring for her. Still blushing, she refocused on her meal. This time, she ate quickly but without the mess.
I watched with a mix of satisfaction and vague regret for a good while before starting my own food. That's when Hong Yeonhwa sneakily glanced at her bowl, then mine, and cautiously spoke up.
"...Are you not eating more, by chance?"
I was just about to. Tilting my head, I checked her bowl—it was already empty, she'd scarfed it down so fast. Mine was still more than half full.
"Not enough? Want another bowl?"
"Thank you..."
Blushing as she shyly handed over her empty bowl, Hong Yeonhwa was adorable. Now I finally got what Master meant by always being ready to feed someone.
The moment we finished eating, Hong Yeonhwa insisted on checking her condition. She assumed a cross-legged meditation pose and shooed me out. Her posture was surprisingly solid—guess she really does know some martial arts. But since it didn't show at all before, it's probably not high-level.
Come to think of it, I know she was with Fengyu Merchant Group, but what was her position there? Wearing a uniform suggests warrior, but she seemed too delicately raised for that. Her skills were third-rate at best. Plus, her flustered reaction when I dropped formalities, her clear gratitude for the favor, but also her ingrained air of being accustomed to deference... No way she was just some regular guard. Daughter of the merchant lord, maybe? Not many have seen her, but rumors say the youngest daughter is a knockout beauty. Eh, doesn't matter what her deal is. I've already decided to help Hong Yeonhwa. Bit by bit, build up goodwill until ultimately... heh heh heh.
My lips curled into a grin. Her straight-backed seated pose kept emphasizing those breasts, popping into my head unbidden. But at the same time, a chill settled in one corner of my heart. If she really is Fengyu's barely surviving youngest daughter, the best move is to hand her to the Murim Alliance ASAP.
Not because of Cheok An Geum Gwi, of course. Killing her wouldn't profit him, so no reason to risk coming back here. The real reason I need to take her to the Alliance... is inheritance. Fengyu was a major powerhouse in the region. Even after Cheok An Geum Gwi looted it, they'd still have land left. Unclaimed assets revert to the state, but right now, Hong Yeonhwa might reclaim at least some as heir. Even if not, she could get a refund on the guard fees or equivalent aid. The Alliance will do something to save face.
Big or small, if it's for her sake, I should head to the village right now... but there's a snag. Right now, Hong Yeonhwa sees the Murim Alliance as the root of all evil. One slip-up in front of them, and it'd be a disaster. She'd probably blow up just hearing I was taking her to meet Alliance folks.
...Ah! Screw it! Ultimately, it's her call. I'll ask her directly later what she wants to do. She's a bit off mentally, sure, but this is her decision, not mine.
I scratched my head roughly and grabbed my sword. While she circulates her qi, I'll do my training. No skipping practice just 'cause my head's cluttered.
The yard was spacious for the house size. Master had made it like a training ground. Standing in the center, I took a deep breath and assumed position. Legs shoulder-width, shoulders relaxed naturally. Raised the sword tip to eye level. Stepped forward as I lifted my arm. As my foot hit the ground, shifted my center of gravity, loading my weight into the sword for a vertical downward slash.
Whoosh! A dull whoompf of air being cleaved.
But no stopping here. To keep the motion fluid, I stepped diagonally opposite, twisting my waist for a horizontal cut. The blade swept left to right through empty air. Swinging from this position would ruin my stance and power, so reposition... but instead of pulling back, I lunged forward big. Waist still twisted right, arm hugged tight to my side. Unlike before, not a swing—a thrust launched at one point.
Fwoop! Short whoosh.
Thrusts pack power but leave openings. Quick half-step forward, flick wrist up. Back to starting stance in a flash. Last time advanced while attacking; now retreat while repeating the form. Then sideways, then diagonal. Midway, I infused inner energy, moving multidirectionally, swinging every which way.
How much time passed? My breath grew ragged, sweat poured, body heavy. Even my near-first-rate inner energy was over half depleted. Focus slipping, I paused to catch my breath—then felt eyes from behind.
"......"
Hong Yeonhwa had finished her meditation and emerged, frowning as she stared. Lips flapping soundlessly for a bit, then she spoke with steely resolve.
"The sword... isn't used like that, you know."
...Say what?