Dang Yeong-young
Kaifeng, where the Murim Alliance stood, wasn’t all that far from Xiangyang for Gukseon.
If she pushed her lightfoot technique to the limit, she could make the trip in less than a day.
But now, she had no intention of doing any such thing.
Just thinking about the child walking beside her made Gukseon smile nonstop.
So much so that she found herself wondering whether she had ever enjoyed life this much before.
That was how it was for martial artists.
They lived their lives grinding their teeth and training, forever striving for fame, success, and self-perfection.
And once those things reached a certain point—once they climbed as high as they reasonably could—their goals changed.
It was no longer just about perfecting themselves, but about how to pass that perfection on to the next generation.
The stronger and more accomplished a person was, the more likely they were to think that way.
In particular, Gukseon had brought the Yuyu Mugeuk Sword of Mount Zhongnan to full mastery, and had even reached the point where she could infuse it with her own insight.
And yet, in Zhongnan, no one else had learned the Yuyu Mugeuk Sword, unlike something as common as the Seven Star Step.
It was difficult. It didn’t look very appealing. And, worst of all, it meant they’d have to learn from Gukseon herself.
So it was only natural that Gukseon’s heart would feel less than satisfied.
And it was just as natural that she’d look at the disciples of Zhongnan with some irritation.
That was why Gukseon, in high spirits, spoke to Harin.
Gukseon wasn’t the type to beat around the bush.
Now that they were traveling together, she intended to start teaching at once.
Harin was the sort of prodigy who could hear a verse of a manual and memorize and master it immediately.
“Girl. What do you think is the most important thing about a sword?”
“That it touches the opponent’s body.”
Gukseon was so shocked by the answer that she actually stopped walking.
That was not at all the answer she had been expecting.
She had been thinking about balance between spirit, will, body, and energy; the mindset with which one swung a sword; one’s attitude toward the blade; the insight contained in the sword; or at the very least, the fundamentals.
“I’m sorry, Senior Sister. I’m still not very well versed in swordsmanship.”
As Harin spoke in an apologetic tone, Gukseon felt something flicker in her mind, something just out of reach.
Ah. What was it? It felt like she could almost grasp it.
“No. Your answer isn’t wrong. So there’s no need to apologize.”
Gukseon started walking again.
And as she did, she completely forgot about teaching Harin swordsmanship and silently repeated that answer to herself.
That was right. A sword was a blade. It was an object meant to subdue an opponent.
So the completion of the sword was touching the opponent’s body.
An extremely simple principle. A conclusion of utter simplicity.
All sword methods and techniques were merely the process of achieving that.
Martial arts were the same. Martial arts existed to make a sword easier to wield, and stronger.
But now, that cause and effect had reversed.
Martial arts had become the end rather than the means, and that tendency only grew worse by the day.
When she thought about it that way, that child had truly grasped the core of the matter with astonishing ease.
Without even trying.
After my answer, Gukseon stayed silent for a while.
She’d said I didn’t need to apologize, so I didn’t think I’d done anything wrong.
Still, had I gone a little too far? Had I insulted swordsmanship too crudely?
But to me, that really did seem right.
That’s what weapons are for, after all.
If you’re not carrying them around just to show off, then the more surface area a weapon can put on your opponent, the better.
That would be skill.
Anyway, so we kept walking.
It was something I’d already felt when I was traveling with Moyong Jua and Paeng Jeon-ho, but walking with someone else gave you a surprising sense of stability.
And those two had been plenty strong, so that stability had been pretty high. More than satisfying, really.
But now? Well, I wasn’t worried at all. Who was walking beside me, after all?
Skill, ability, social standing, lineage, background—every one of those things was extraordinary.
So of course I felt at ease. Why would I worry at all? It would’ve been strange if I had.
Of course, the fact that she’d been silent for a while was making me a little uneasy.
We’d been walking for some time when Gukseon suddenly looked back and frowned.
So I turned around too, and there, far in the distance, I saw someone approaching.
Uh... but that looked like someone I knew?
No, wait. Why was she here?
A figure was walking this way as if nothing were out of the ordinary.
It was Dang Yeong-young. There was no mistaking her. She was wearing the Dang Clan’s martial robes, so there was no way she was someone else with a similar face.
When she spotted me and Gukseon, she quickened her pace and soon came right up beside us.
Gukseon simply stared at Dang Yeong-young, and when Dang Yeong-young bowed politely, she gave only the slightest nod in return, showing almost no interest.
It was practically contempt.
That was a complete world apart from how she treated me. Could a person really be so different?
Anyway, my curiosity got the better of me, so I asked Dang Yeong-young right away.
“Miss Dang? Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be at the Jegal Clan Manor?”
“I came out because I had somewhere to go.”
“By yourself, Miss Dang?”
“Yep.”
What? Did that make any sense? There was no way the Dang Clan would just let Dang Yeong-young wander off alone.
“Where are you going?”
“That’s a secret. What about you, Miss Baek? Where are you headed?”
“We’re going to the Murim Alliance in Kaifeng.”
“What a coincidence. I’m going the same way.”
At that, Gukseon turned her head again and said in a low voice, “I have no intention of traveling with you. If you’re going, go on ahead.”
Her voice was sharp as a blade, her tone so cold it sounded like she was speaking to an enemy.
For most people, hearing that would have destroyed any semblance of composure.
Would they have felt their knees go weak? Or gotten a chill running down their spine?
Either way, they’d have no choice but to flinch and likely flee the scene.
“I never asked to travel with you.”
But Dang Yeong-young just muttered that, entirely unfazed.
“What did you say?”
Gukseon’s voice shot up by two octaves. Anyone could hear how furious she was.
Yet Dang Yeong-young remained calm, simply matching my pace as we walked.
If anything, I was probably the most on edge out of the three of us.
No, seriously—why was she so fearless? Wasn’t she scared at all?
Gukseon was practically radiating murderous intent.
Even I, who wasn’t especially sensitive to that sort of thing, could clearly tell.
And yet Dang Yeong-young walked beside me as if it were nothing.
Which made Gukseon the one who was actually thrown off.
Well, that made sense. Up until now, almost no one had ever done anything like this to her.
She couldn’t lay a hand on Dang Yeong-young.
If she did, this wouldn’t end as just a problem between Gukseon and Dang Yeong-young.
It could become a problem between Zhongnan and the Dang Clan.
Besides, Gukseon wouldn’t do something so childish.
That would be the worst possible move. Absolutely not something she could afford to do.
The more Dang Yeong-young got involved in this situation, the more it tilted against Gukseon.
That was probably why Dang Yeong-young was acting so brazenly.
She was probably walking and talking right on the edge of what could be called crossing the line.
And yet, surprisingly, Gukseon closed her mouth and said nothing else after that. She just kept walking.
Not that Dang Yeong-young suddenly got friendly with me or tried to strike up a conversation.
She simply kept following beside me.
What the heck was this? This situation was kind of awful.
“Miss Dang.”
“Hm?”
“There’s something I need to say first.”
“What is it?”
“Apologize to Senior Sister Gukseon.”
As I stopped walking and said that, Gukseon stopped too. Dang Yeong-young stared at me with a dumbfounded expression and asked, “Why?”
“If you don’t know why, then you don’t have to. But in that case, please keep some distance from us. I don’t want to travel with you.”
My words left Dang Yeong-young looking shocked.
As if she hadn’t expected me to say something like that.
But even so, there was no apology. No, there wasn’t a single word.
“Senior Sister. Please go on.”
When I said that, the murderous aura that had been billowing around Gukseon vanished without a trace, and a smile appeared on her face.
“Very well. Let us do that.”
As we started walking again, Dang Yeong-young twitched and began following us once more.
But I stopped and looked back at her, and she froze in place like a statue.
She looked completely at a loss.
Seeing that, I turned forward again and walked on with Gukseon.
After that, Dang Yeong-young kept following at a slightly greater distance, dragging her feet.
I didn’t even need to look back to know it—she must have looked utterly deflated.
I hadn’t meant to make her feel that way, but I still thought it was necessary.
She probably had never been in trouble even once in her life.
The Sichuan Dang Clan. Rulers of Sichuan.
If she had just kept wearing those dark green martial robes, no one would have dared say a harsh word to her.
And if she’d even spoken informally to Moyong Jua, then that said it all.
It was obvious enough what kind of upbringing she’d had.
I could roughly guess the situation. There was a good chance this business about “somewhere she had to go” wasn’t true.
She was probably following me, wasn’t she? Without permission?
The reason I didn’t tell her to go back immediately was because I wasn’t certain.
Besides, however she looked, Dang Yeong-young was still an adult.
So I couldn’t just order a grown adult around as I pleased.
But I could tell her not to come near me. That was something connected to me.
By the time the sun was heading toward the western mountains and the sky was thick with sunset glow, we had arrived in Nanyang and headed for a guesthouse affiliated with the Murim Alliance.
Even then, Dang Yeong-young kept dutifully trailing behind us.
Only when we’d secured our rooms and were heading upstairs did she finally slip into the guesthouse after us.
This was a safe place, so it probably didn’t matter if she was left alone here.
And since she could prove she was the daughter of the Dang Clan, getting a room shouldn’t be difficult either.
“Senior Sister.”
Just before we went into our separate rooms, I called out politely, and Gukseon turned to me with that same smile still on her face.
“If that child properly apologizes to you and shows you the respect you deserve, could you allow her to keep following along?”
“Why are you so concerned about her?”
“Isn’t it amusing? It’d be nice to watch that rude kid soften up and become a little more human.”
When I said that, Gukseon gave me a strange smile and replied, “You’re no ordinary child yourself. Very well. Do as you please.”
“Yes. Then please get some rest.”
“Mm.”
With that, Gukseon went into her room, and I quietly returned to the room assigned to me as well.
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