Chapter 176
Chapter 176
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Translator: penny
Chapter Title: Signs of War (3)
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‘What could this mean?’
Sima Baek knew full well how desperately Chu Un-hwi longed to find the bride he sought.
So he had assumed it would be obvious at a glance, but the response he received was utterly unexpected.
“Why? Something wrong?”
“...Indeed there is.”
“It’s not all that strange.”
Flutter.
Chu Un-hwi set down the portrait and filled his cup, downing it with a sigh of regret.
“Ugh—. Truth be told, the bride I knew is pretty hard to recognize.”
“Is she not strikingly beautiful, or possessed of some standout feature?”
“Nah, nothing like that.”
It was just a simple fact.
“Her face was covered in quite a few sword scars.”
“Sword scars... on her face?”
“She said a few of them were ones I left. I don’t remember, though.”
Well, it might’ve been back when he’d gone mad practicing demonic arts.
“......”
Caught off guard by the sudden turn in conversation, Sima Baek had no idea how to respond.
“And she survived death’s door multiple times, which changed her features quite a bit too. Sometimes half her face would melt away from poison.”
She insisted she was fine, but it tore him up seeing her cry in secret.
“...I see.”
“The worst was the last time. The image burned deepest into my memory was her growing cold in my arms.”
Just when and in what world had this happened?
Even as they sat in the warm private chamber of a quiet sect, tilting their cups peacefully, his lord seemed to be trudging alone through a blood-soaked past and future far away.
Yet Sima Baek had no intention of interrupting. He simply strove to empathize deeply with his lord’s outpouring and share in it.
“You must have suffered greatly.”
“I did. I wanted to share my warmth with her as she cooled in my embrace, but there were always those stabbing me in the back.”
So he killed them all.
“I killed them without leaving a single one alive, killed and killed again. In the end, it felt like the whole world was half-submerged in blood.”
When he finally returned to her side, she had grown ice-cold.
“Colder than a winter chill. I don’t know how many times I tried to revive that warmth.”
“...Is that so?”
“When I came to my senses, about a month had passed. Even I was reaching my limit by then.”
No matter who you are, fighting thousands and burning through your qi like crazy will eventually wear you down.
“Honestly, I’d lost all motivation. I was just like, whatever happens, happens.”
That’s when it was, he thought.
“For once, I could gaze at her face closely, in greater detail than ever before.”
“She must not have made it easy for you, then? Your wife.”
“Far from it.”
Chu Un-hwi chuckled, grinning for reasons Sima Baek couldn’t fathom.
“She was quite the prude. Stare at her even a little too long, and she’d get all sulky.”
She wouldn’t even eat with him unless she had at least a touch of makeup on. Can you believe it?
“That’s the conclusion. The version of her etched deepest in my memory was covered in wounds.”
“No wonder you can’t recall her from childhood.”
Finally sharing in his lord’s raw anguish, Sima Baek refilled his cup.
“Then how do you plan to recognize and find your wife?”
“You know what?”
Pour, pour. As Chu Un-hwi refilled Sima Baek’s cup in return, he continued.
“I was certain. The moment I heard her voice, stood beside her, I’d know for sure.”
“...I see.”
“But truthfully, I’m not sure. Or maybe I am.”
Those fierce eyes aimed boldly at the world and her unyielding sense of justice would surely remain unchanged.
“That’s her nature—it doesn’t change easily.”
“Quite right, my lord.”
“And no matter how scarred or worn she gets, some things don’t change.”
Tap, tap.
Chu Un-hwi tapped one side of the portrait and grinned.
“The shape of her eyes is a close match. And that impression that turns cheeky when you wrinkle your nose.”
Above all.
“The instant I saw this portrait, it was like lightning struck my mind.”
This has to be her.
She has to be the one.
“So, meeting her once will give you certainty.”
“Yeah. Exactly.”
Perhaps it was nearly time for him to leave.
Muttering to himself, Chu Un-hwi drained his cup and set it down with a clunk.
“But even if I’m leaving, I need to wrap things up with these greenhorns first.”
“You plan to handle the cleanup yourself?”
“If I hadn’t reached out in the first place, maybe. But having grasped their hands, I’ve no intention of casting them aside heartlessly.”
They were hands extended in a cold, lonely world.
He couldn’t ignore those children clutching desperately at the faint warmth they’d finally grasped, like autumn leaves clinging tight.
“If it is your will, my lord.”
Bow.
Sima Baek folded the portrait and tucked it into his bosom as he rose.
“It might be better to move the young master instead.”
“Handle it however you see fit, Uncle Sima.”
“Understood.”
Sima Baek replied without hesitation.
Dawn was breaking.
Flutter.
Dokgo Yul, the Lone-Eyed Divine Sword, unfurled the tightly rolled paper with a messenger pigeon perched on his shoulder.
Soon, heat flickered in his previously impassive eyes.
“Finally.”
He was to meet his principal wife.
As a faint smile ghosted over Dokgo Yul’s stern features amid his eager anticipation—
Rustle.
A hearty-faced Ma Gil-sang appeared with the faint sound of footsteps.
The Flame Light Blade Demon—or master of the Flame Dragon, as he was called—this peerless expert was dressed surprisingly casually.
“Mm. Up already, eh?”
Scratching idly inside his disheveled nightclothes, he tilted his head at the sight of the pigeon.
“Hm? Messenger pigeon? News from where?”
“From the Myo Jin Sect.”
“Myo Jin Sect? Rings a bell. Ah.”
Finally recalling from memory, Ma Gil-sang slapped his forehead.
“Right. Where your master resides. I completely forgot.”
Seems his mind had grown foggy from all the lounging around.
Ma Gil-sang laughed heartily and slung an arm around Dokgo Yul’s neck without a care.
‘This annoying righteous sect bastard.’
Having just received word of his lord and wanting to savor the afterglow, Dokgo Yul felt a flicker of killing intent toward the uninvited guest but quickly suppressed it.
“What is it? Word from your master?”
“He seems to be doing well.”
“That’s a relief. Without Elder Wang Wu the Poison Bee Sword Wanderer, the damage would’ve been severe.”
And by now, the Soaring Heaven Divine Lord should be at the small hut too.
“The two of them must have grown quite close?”
“They meet now and then to discuss martial arts and pass the time.”
In truth, he’d grumbled about the hassle of keeping that shameless fellow away from his lord’s young bird, but Dokgo Yul glossed over it.
“Enviable. Having someone to discuss scholarship or martial arts with.”
Zhiyin.
The term for a true friend who grasps the depths of your heart just from hearing you play an instrument.
“Haha. No need to be so envious? You’ve got me at your age!”
“Hahaha.”
Suppressing the urge to punch Ma Gil-sang’s face as he tightened his arm around his neck in feigned closeness, Dokgo Yul replied.
“Looks like I’ll need to pay a visit.”
“Where? The small hut?”
“It’s about time to leave this place anyway.”
“True, you’ve rested plenty.”
This was a branch of the Murim Alliance in Shaanxi Province.
They’d received lavish treatment and rest, but for a heavenly warrior like Ma Gil-sang, it wasn’t entirely comfortable.
“You drag me here to rest all of a sudden, and now—”
“After resting, the tension’s all gone. It’s uncomfortable.”
“Well said. A warrior too relaxed is like a slack bowstring—useless.”
Alright then. Shall I come along?
“Together?”
“Elder Wang Wu could be quite helpful.”
Ma Gil-sang was dissatisfied at not having delved deeper into conversation amid his busy schedule.
“A man who spent his life restoring his sect’s arts and then secluded himself would surely benefit me too.”
“Ha. Ha. Ha.”
Why does this pest have to tag along again?
Unhappy as he was, Ma Gil-sang was his direct superior on the surface and the one covering for him, so refusal wasn’t an option.
“Fine. Let’s prepare, then.”
“I have a few things to handle before departure.”
“Things to handle? Leave the trifles to the branch staff, no?”
“I can’t do that.”
What he had to do now was subtly falsify documents to cover his principal wife’s tracks.
‘I can’t entrust such a crucial task to others.’
Thinking this, Dokgo Yul answered with rigid resolve.
“Even the smallest matters mustn’t be handled sloppily—that’s my creed.”
A response befitting the righteous sect incarnate, the Lone-Eyed Divine Sword, measured to perfection.
In the Nangong Family, they desperately tried cunning methods to lure Nangong Yun-ho out.
But with him refusing to leave Elder Wang Wu’s abode, they grew increasingly frustrated.
“Infuriating.”
As days passed without a glimpse of the boy, Nangong Musan threw up his hands.
“Il-jun. Have you sent separate word?”
“It’s... not easy. Especially since that temporary instructor Chu Un-hwi returned—no one’s even seen his face.”
Nangong Il-jun was just as frustrated.
“He’s so sharp, it’s hard to even pretend to bump into him by chance.”
Yesterday, he’d waited over an hour on the walking path he frequented.
He’d confirmed reports from Silver Hall students that he always took dawn strolls to fetch spring water.
“But strangely, they said he skipped it yesterday.”
His instincts were so keen that avoiding him in this tiny sect was no small feat.
“What to do...”
Should they resort to force?
As he pondered extreme measures—
“Looks like I’ll have to step in after all.”
Nangong Chan, who’d been silent, finally spoke up.
“Father, no need for you to move personally.”
“Agreed. If worst comes to worst, we’ll send the Soaring Heaven Thousand White Sword Brigade.”
Despite his sons’ protests, Nangong Chan slowly shook his head.
“My silence and waiting were because I hoped you, Musan, would establish your dignity as family head.”
The Sword Saint’s name carried immense weight.
Yet he’d held back from the forefront so far, worried his involvement might dilute the attention his son deserved.
“But we’re short on time.”
The Murim Alliance would soon send the Blood Dew Stone.
They’d have to depart for Mount Hua then, and with no progress, he could wait no longer.
“Very well. I’ll send word. If you step in, Father, even Elder Wang can’t refuse.”
“It’s not Elder Wang.”
At the Sword Saint’s level, reading an opponent’s skill and aura was child’s play.
And with long life comes insight into things the young overlook.
In his eyes, his sons were poking at the wrong spot.
“Temporary Instructor Chu Un-hwi. It’s him I want to meet.”
“As expected of old ginger—it’s the spicy ones that count?”
That was Chu Un-hwi’s first impression upon receiving the summons.
“Didn’t expect them to call me instead of Uncle Sima.”
He’d seen through the fact that moving Chu Un-hwi would draw out Nangong Yun-ho.
A family leader’s eyes were indeed different.
“Whereas the Nangong Family head...”
He seemed to have the martial prowess and dignity, but he was too green.
He didn’t know how to skillfully manipulate foes, only how to bulldoze ahead.
‘He’ll get craftier with time.’
Now he understood why Nangong Chan took his son everywhere.
Probably to teach him elegance, gentleness, and unflappability?
“Not my concern anyway.”
He was just an instructor in Bronze Hall.
A low-paid wage slave worth ten silver taels at best.
The agreed meeting spot came into view ahead.
The ornate pavilion looked exorbitantly luxurious at a glance—far beyond the dreams of a lowly instructor on thin pay.
Yet no human shadows stirred in the grand hall.
Had they rented out the entire massive inn?
“Not bad at intimidating people.”
Grinning wryly, Chu Un-hwi trudged toward the hall.