A Guest of Jongnam
In the dead of the night, during the middle of the Hour of the Ox, the rest of the world lay deep in slumber. Slipping past the creaking floorboards of the inn, Ryeong vanished into the dark without a whisper of sound.
I shouldn't need to worry about my safety while traveling alongside the Jongnam Sect, but...
The martial world was vast, crawling with hidden monsters. With her past life's memories as Cheonsal still razor-sharp, she needed to push the Heaven-Killing Art to greater heights as quickly as humanly possible.
Currently, the Heaven-Killing Art stood at the third stage. Having wielded it against the Murim Alliance strike forces, she had managed to drag it up to a respectable level. The true obstacle lay in breaking through to the fourth stage.
As a demonic art forged specifically for slaughter, ascending to the fourth stage demanded that the practitioner witness the freshly spilled blood of another.
Yet for Ryeong, bound by a karmic restriction that forbade her from taking the life of anyone who harbored no murderous intent toward her, that requirement was virtually impossible. And so, the compromise she devised was simple.
Hunting wild beasts.
Tsing!
With a flick of her thumb, a copper coin she had pocketed from the tavern counter sliced through the night air. An oblivious rabbit caught mid-hop went limp, its life snuffed out before it hit the dirt.
Ryeong checked her lightness technique and touched down lightly onto the forest floor. Instinctively, she expanded her senses, sweeping the immediate perimeter for any lingering presence.
Fortunately, the heavenly restriction did not extend to beasts. Nor did she feel the slightest pang of remorse for taking the life of an innocent creature.
Death held little weight in Ryeong's heart. She had been raised steeped in blood and iron since childhood.
Not that I expect to reach the fourth stage in a single night.
She would attempt it today, and if it failed, she would keep trying until it yielded. That was all there was to it.
Smearing the warm blood across both palms, Ryeong sat cross-legged upon the damp moss. Within moments, the icy current of the Heaven-Killing Art circulated through her meridian pathways, pulling her into a trance of absolute focus.
Three hours slipped by before Ryeong released a long, misty breath and opened her eyes. The circulation speed of her inner energy had noticeably quickened, yet the Heaven-Killing Art remained stubbornly locked at the peak of the third stage.
No need to rush.
That ancient ghost at least had some shred of decency, having bestowed a generous supply of Stalactite Dew after tearing her original cultivation away.
Considering that the overwhelming majority of martial artists spent their entire lives unable to breach the threshold of the Peak Realm, she ought to have dropped to her knees and kowtowed in gratitude.
If not for that Stalactite Dew... well, she preferred not to contemplate that misery.
Ryeong knew the martial path intimately. For any warrior, the first insurmountable barrier was condensing internal qi.
The second was breaking into the First-Class Realm. The third was shattering the ceiling to step into the Peak Realm.
Once an expert breached the Peak Realm, their progress rode a rising momentum. Given enough time, most would eventually step into the Transcendent Realm.
From there, only a vanishingly rare few ever crossed into the dreamlike boundary of the Profound Realm. That was the fourth and final wall of mortal martial arts.
Beyond that lay masters of the Mystic Realm, though they were treated less as human beings and more as living gods.
In the contemporary age, aside from the hidden master of the Demon Blood Divine Cult's remnants and the Lord of the Murim Alliance, not a single figure in the Mystic Realm had walked the public stage.
Ryeong had already broken through two of those walls. Reaching the Transcendent Realm was practically a foregone conclusion.
The Profound Realm was a tale for the distant future. For now, she had to be content with standing at the Peak Realm.
"I need to wash this stench off."
Having circulated her qi with blood slathered across her skin, the crust on her palms emanated a sharp, coppery odor. If she failed to scrub it away, the sharp-nosed Taoists would immediately suspect something foul.
Rinsing her hands clean in a nearby brook, Ryeong used her inner energy to evaporate the lingering smell into thin air.
Faint dawn light was just beginning to seep over the canopy. From today onward, she would be journeying toward Shaanxi alongside the Jongnam Sect. She needed to slip back and catch at least a couple hours of rest.
"Are you ready, Miss?"
"Yes. Thanks to your warm hospitality, I spent a very peaceful night. We depart for Jongnam today, correct?"
"Indeed. The distance is not great, so we should arrive at Mount Zhongnan in roughly three days."
At the start of the Hour of the Snake, Hyeon Yang, having arranged the carriages, explained their route to Ryeong.
Though the elder kept his lips sealed regarding why the Jongnam Sect had traveled all the way to Sichuan—claiming it was strictly internal sect business—Ryeong had already pried the truth out of Jin Yeong through subtle intimidation.
To verify whether the sacred relic kept by the Tang Clan is intact, was it?
The only reason Ryeong had ended up trapped in a woman's body was that eccentric old monster dwelling inside the Qingcheng Sect's sacred relic.
Could someone be sealed within the Tang Clan's relic as well? If she had heard of a sacred relic only once, she might have dismissed it, but hearing of another naturally aroused her suspicions.
This is hardly ordinary behavior.
Another sect traveling to inspect the ancestral heirloom of a noble clan? And not just any clan, but the Sichuan Tang Clan—the undisputed overlord of Sichuan and one of the Five Great Clans?
Something is brewing beneath the surface.
There had to be a grave reason requiring absolute secrecy. Perhaps there was something fundamentally dangerous about these 'sacred relics' themselves.
Lost in thought, her gaze drifted across the courtyard—where it collided squarely with Jin Yeong, who was fidgeting in visible torment.
Ryeong offered him a radiant, sweet smile and threw a thread of sound transmission straight into his mind.
[Say a single word, and you're dead.]
[M-Miss?! You can use sound transmission as well?!]
Jin Yeong's eyes widened in sheer panic. Any lingering trace of belief in her original sob story about being helpless prey to mountain bandits evaporated completely.
[Of course I can. I have zero intention of harming you, understand? So the conversation we shared remains our little secret forever. Forever, got it?]
[I-I understand.]
While Ryeong and Jin Yeong exchanged quiet, loaded glances, his martial uncles and senior sisters huddled close, whispering among themselves with knowing grins. To their eyes, the lingering stare between the handsome young swordsman and the breathtaking beauty was profoundly meaningful.
"Our little Jin Yeong is a grown man after all, isn't he?"
"There is no doctrine forbidding a Taoist from finding love. This martial uncle fully supports you."
"M-Martial Uncle! It's not like that at all—!"
"Hohoho, you tease him so," Ryeong cut in, hiding her laughter behind a dainty sleeve while carefully seeding ambiguity. "Young Hero Jin Yeong and I have not reached that sort of relationship yet."
Just as Jin Yeong scrambled to clear his name, Ryeong beat him to the punch. By deliberately dangling the word 'yet', she painted the air in vibrant shades of romance. No matter how cloistered these Taoists were, they possessed sharp instincts when it came to youthful dalliances.
"Jin Yeong, your senior sister stands firmly behind you!"
"Spring has finally bloomed for our Sword Dragon! Hahaha!"
"I told you, that's really not it...!"
Jin Yeong's protests withered into a pathetic mumble as the misunderstanding spiraled out of control. Who on earth could possibly fall for a lunatic like her? It really wasn't like that!
Noticing the dark shadow creeping across his face, Ryeong issued another telepathic prod.
[Smile, won't you?]
A twitch pulled at Jin Yeong's mouth.
Forcing the corners of his lips upward, he cobbled together a trembling, agonized grin. To any sensible person, he looked on the verge of weeping, but his doting martial family paid it no mind.
Still... she really is drop-dead gorgeous.
Looking into Ryeong's smiling eyes, Jin Yeong felt his breath hitch. If not for the searing terror of knowing she was an unhinged vixen, that smile would have bewitched any man alive. She truly was stunning—
SMACK!
"Good heavens! What on earth has gotten into you?"
"I felt... as though I was growing far too blinded by infatuation, Senior Sister."
Jin Yeong slapped both of his cheeks with stinging force. He could not afford to forget. No matter how peerless her outward beauty was, the soul lurking beneath was a venomous schemer.
I must have lost my mind. Bewitched? By her?
He was a proud third-generation disciple of the great Jongnam Sect. One of the Five Dragons and Three Phoenixes, hailed across the land as the Sword Dragon—one of the pinnacle talents of the younger generation.
That was who Jin Yeong was.
Yet his senior sister merely cocked her head, studying him with profound pity.
"Blinded by infatuation? What nonsense. Even as a woman, I find Miss Ryeong breathtakingly lovely. You had better treat her with the utmost care."
"...Yes, Senior Sister."
Resigning himself to defeat, Jin Yeong nodded weakly as the convoy finally pulled out, embarking on the road toward Mount Zhongnan.
And as fate would have it...
Why did it have to end up like this again?!
He found himself trapped alone inside a carriage with Ryeong.
It was entirely the meddling of his martial uncles and aunts. They had insisted they were more than happy to pack themselves like sardines into the other carriages if it meant giving their precious junior brother privacy with his fair maiden.
Jin Yeong had been ready to bolt, but when Ryeong pressed close beside him with merciless physical closeness, heat had surged straight into his face all over again. By the time his wits returned, the two of them had already laid claim to the carriage.
"You look miserable."
"Miss... what is your true purpose in approaching me?"
"Your reactions are delightful. It's been ages since I met someone so fun to tease."
Ryeong giggled into her sleeve, prompting Jin Yeong to snap his neck away, violently severing eye contact.
Not again. His heart had skipped a beat yet again.
Primordial Heavenly Worthy, Lord of the Way... why must you subject your disciple to such trials?
Was this why men claimed that true beauty excused every crime? Even while harboring resentment, looking her directly in the face dealt critical damage to his composure. Knowing that she weaponized her looks made it worse—in fact, because he was fully conscious of it, it drove him mad.
He despised how thoroughly disarmed he became before her smile. Their first encounter had been overwhelmingly terrifying; he could only chalk this up to an irresistible calamity.
Before he could steady his breathing, she slid across the bench to seat herself directly across from him.
"So, why is Jongnam checking the Tang Clan's sacred relic?"
"...I cannot tell you. That is confidential information I am forbidden from disclosing under any circumstances."
"Even if I let you look under here?"
"Miss!"
Ryeong rested a slender hand over her bodice as she asked. Jin Yeong, his face flushing crimson, shot to his feet in scandalized fury.
THUD!
"Aaargh!"
"Hahaha! What an idiot."
The carriage roof was naturally too low, rewarding his outburst with a concussive crack against the wood.
Clutching his throbbing crown, Jin Yeong grimaced. "I truly cannot fathom what your goal is, Miss. But when you refuse to disclose your own identity, expecting me to discuss our sacred relic is simply—"
"I've already erected a qi barrier, so speak as freely as you like."
"Wh-What did you just say?"
Ryeong's casual murmur dropped like an iron weight.
A single sentence, yet goosebumps broke out across every inch of Jin Yeong's skin.
A qi barrier was an advanced art wherein one enveloped the surrounding space with condensed inner energy, completely isolating the sound within from the world outside.
To sustain such a barrier, one had to manipulate qi with pristine fluidity, projecting it beyond the physical vessel while maintaining its cohesive form without dispersion.
Put simply:
It was a feat attainable only by masters who stood firmly within the Peak Realm.
His heart hammered violently against his ribs. The playful banter died instantly, replaced by a suffocating, gelid silence that coiled around the carriage interior.
Jin Yeong stared at Ryeong with a frozen expression. Sometime during the exchange, the teasing smile had melted away, leaving behind a blank, impassive mask.
"Are you still planning on keeping your mouth shut?"
"..."
Jin Yeong's left hand shifted downward inch by inch, creeping toward his scabbard. Though he was right-handed, now was hardly the time to worry about conventional sword forms.
He needed to draw his blade and shatter out of this carriage—
PING!
"Twitch a single finger, and you die."
"Kugh!"
Just as his fingertips grazed the lacquered sheath, Ryeong flicked another copper coin, knocking the hilt violently aside with pinpoint force. No matter how stealthily he moved, he was dealing with Ryeong.
Cheonsal. One of the Four Great Evils of the Unorthodox Factions, branded by the Murim Alliance itself.
A clumsy twitch of the arm was an insultingly transparent trick before her eyes.
"Now then. You're going to talk, aren't you?"
The sweet smile returned to her lips.
Yet this time, not a trace of warmth remained.