Chapter 302
Most undertakers avoided jobs from the Magistrate's Office.
Because the payment for handling corpses assigned by the Magistrate's Office was a mere five coins per body.
No matter how well you prepared the deceased, no one would appreciate it, and it was better to spend that time on other work.
So when jobs came from the Magistrate's Office, they wouldn't bother with proper encoffining—just haul the bodies in a cart and bury them in some random wild mountain.
But Bu Jan-yang, the undertaker at Peaceful Burial House in Hwangju Prefecture, was different.
Even when handling unclaimed deceased, he meticulously prepared them, and if there wasn't enough money for burial clothes, he would cover the cost himself.
He never buried the dead just anywhere, always searching for a sunny, well-lit spot to lay them to rest.
Because of this, making ends meet was always a struggle, but Peaceful Burial House was happy.
Because the two beloved grandfather and grandson always worked with joy.
"Grandfather..."
Bu Eun-seol's eyes, gazing up at the signboard inscribed with "Peaceful Burial House", grew bloodshot.
After escaping Wicked Incense, he had immediately headed to Hwangju Prefecture to find Peaceful Burial House.
Before tracing the footsteps of the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade Bu Jan-yang, he had wanted to first follow the traces of his grandfather, Bu Jan-yang.
"Our home... has become an abandoned house."
Peaceful Burial House had always been located on the outskirts of a sparsely populated village.
But after the two undertakers suddenly vanished, it had turned into a desolate, eerie ruin.
Creak.
When he stepped inside, all the furnishings were gone, and filth was smeared everywhere.
Thieves had taken anything of value, and it seemed vagrants with nowhere else to go had stayed here for a while.
Bu Eun-seol's gaze settled on a half-shattered wooden table in one corner of the room.
At night, an oil lamp would be lit on that table.
And his grandfather, with his dimming eyes, would either read a book or mend the worn clothes of his beloved grandson.
Swish.
Bu Eun-seol brushed his hand over the dust-covered table.
Touching the table that bore the marks of Bu Jan-yang's hands, he could almost feel a lingering warmth.
After quietly surveying the house for a while, Bu Eun-seol stepped back outside.
'I'll compare the traces of the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade and Grandfather as I search.'
Bu Eun-seol, staring at the distant sky, clenched his fists.
The grandfather he had thought was just an ordinary undertaker had been a Murim master who had cultivated the highest level of Shaolin's internal energy.
He couldn't storm Shaolin right now and demand who his grandfather really was, so he would carefully retrace the pasts of both men.
'Grandfather never wanted me to become a martial artist.'
Bu Jan-yang had taught Bu Eun-seol the Life Nourishing Secret from the Tendon Transformation Sutra under the pretext of the Corpse Game, tempering his willpower to its utmost limit.
He had also dissected corpses, imparting knowledge of martial arts and various other fields.
But it was never because he wanted Bu Eun-seol to become a martial artist.
In truth, Bu Jan-yang had not taught him a single martial form and had always warned him that the life of a martial artist never ended well.
'He only wanted me to live long and avoid hardship in this cruel world.'
Bu Eun-seol could feel it.
Teaching him the Tendon Transformation Sutra was so he wouldn't fall ill and could live a long life.
Training his willpower was due to the grueling life of an undertaker, forced to witness the pitifully mangled corpses of the dead.
Making him well-versed in the human body through analyzing causes of death was simply to pass on the knowledge needed to restore the deceased to their living appearance as much as possible.
'But the opposite happened, Grandfather.'
Everything Bu Jan-yang had taught him was meant to keep him healthy, long-lived, and the finest undertaker in the Bu Estate...
Yet paradoxically, it had laid the foundation for Bu Eun-seol to become the greatest martial artist.
Thud, thud.
Leaving behind the abandoned Peaceful Burial House, Bu Eun-seol climbed a small hill on a nearby knoll.
That was where he had buried Bu Jan-yang.
At the time, Bu Eun-seol had been young and weak. So among the places where he could haul the iron coffin on a cart,
he had chosen the sunniest spot, untouched by human footsteps, and made a grave.
"...!"
Bu Eun-seol's face turned pale as he arrived at the gravesite.
Back then, he had piled stones into a cairn over the spot where Bu Jan-yang was buried.
But the cairn had collapsed, and the grave had been dug up, hadn't it?
Whoosh!
Bu Eun-seol used his internal energy to overturn the earth of the burial site in an instant.
But there was nothing.
Back then, he had spent three days digging deep into the ground, so deep that even wild animals couldn't have unearthed it.
Even if animals had dug up the grave, they couldn't have carried away an iron coffin.
Someone had taken the iron coffin—and his grandfather's remains—whole.
"Uuuugh."
A surge of true qi spiraled out from Bu Eun-seol's entire body, and his eyes burned crimson.
"What crime did Grandfather commit...?"
Rumble.
Though not a single breeze stirred, the trees in the forest trembled.
"To even disturb his eternal rest——!"
His anguished cry echoed through the forest—
BOOM! CRACKLE—
At the same time, a surge of Blazing Flame True Qi erupted outward in all directions.
In an instant, more than half the trees in the forest collapsed, and the ground was gouged open with pitch-black pits.
Hiss...
The scorching heat turned the rocks crimson, while the trees burned into charcoal.
His Spirit and Mind had returned to normal, but that searing rage had not manifested as the Willful True Binding—instead, it had taken the form of Extreme Yang Blazing Flame True Qi.
"You committed an act you shouldneverhave dared."
Bu Eun-seol's teeth clenched, his pupils staining blood-red.
At first, he had intended to end his revenge by simply executing the murderer who had slaughtered his grandfather so brutally.
But his thoughts had changed.
"Not just the one who killed Grandfather—every single person connected to him... I'll drag them all down to hell. Not a single one will escape."
Whoosh—
Wreathed in the blazing flames of his True Qi, Bu Eun-seol looked like a demon engulfed in fire.
They had made a mistake.
They could have done anything else—but they should never have disturbed Bu Jan-yang's eternal rest.
Even if the seas dried up and the stones rotted away...
As long as they lived, the flames burning in Bu Eun-seol's heart would never be extinguished.
By dawn, Bu Eun-seol sought out a guest inn.
He would not return to this village—not until his revenge was complete.
Not until he recovered his grandfather's remains.
And so, before leaving, he wanted to revisit the inn he had often visited with his grandfather—to trace the memories one last time.
'This place has changed too.'
As the village prospered, the inn had grown larger, and the young waiters from back then had now reached middle age.
"Welcome."
A waiter with a large mole on his face and a sour expression bowed obsequiously upon seeing Bu Eun-seol, guiding him to a seat.
"Right this way, sir."
Leading him to a window seat with a good view, the waiter inwardly rubbed his hands together.
'This'll be a windfall.'
Murim warriors, who lived by the edge of their blades, always ate well and spared no expense.
And they were generous—quick to reward waiters who treated them kindly.
But the waiter's expectations were shattered.
"Two bowls of noodles."
Despite looking like the descendant of nobility, he wasn't even ordering a proper meal—just two measly bowls of noodles?
'What kind of nonsense is this?'
After being led to such a good seat, he wasn't even ordering a single side dish?
Fine clothes and appearance aside—was he just a beggar?
"Understood."
The waiter replied curtly and turned away in irritation.
"Get out of here!"
Just then, a commotion erupted outside.
Looking out the window, Bu Eun-seol saw children who appeared to be vagrants sitting near the inn, begging.
And the chief steward, upon spotting them, was driving them away.
"Tch! Business is bad enough as it is—don't bring me bad luck!"
Bu Eun-seol's expression darkened.
That same steward had once chased Bu Jan-yang and him away, claiming they "smelled."
'Why do people never change?'
Shaking his head, Bu Eun-seol looked down out the window and called out loudly:
"You there—steward."
"Huh?"
"Send those children up here."
"What?"
"And you come up too."
The steward blinked in confusion, baffled by the request.
But when he caught the overwhelming authority in Bu Eun-seol's gaze, he had no choice but to usher the children inside.
"If it's a private dining room, a little smell won't bother the other guests."
"Huh?"
"Send the children there, and bring out every dish this inn can serve."
As the steward's eyes widened, Bu Eun-seol pulled out a banknote and placed it on the table.
"Keep bringing food until the children are satisfied. Without stopping."
"O-of course!"
Snatching up the banknote, the steward beamed and quickly herded the children into the private room.
"Your noodles are ready."
Just then, the waiter returned, setting two bowls of noodles on the table.
Bu Eun-seol placed one bowl in front of himself and the other across from him.
—You brat. You come to an inn and just order noodles?
Through the steam rising from the bowl, he could almost see Bu Jan-yang's gentle smile.
That warm gaze, that voice—his grandfather's absence ached in his chest.
"You could've just given them money, you know?"
A clear, melodious voice suddenly reached his ears.
"Then those kids could've eaten for months."
Turning his head, he saw a beauty in white garments, her glossy black hair tied up in a round bun, staring straight at him.
It was Jongri Sa-yu, the granddaughter of the Needle King.
"It's been a while."
She flashed a bright smile, revealing pearly white teeth.
After the Underground Castle incident, she had been tracking Bu Eun-seol's movements—though he had vanished without a trace.
But the Thousand Swords Society was still lying low, and even the location of their headquarters remained unknown.
Despite all her efforts, she had been unable to track him down.
Yet here they were, meeting by fate's whims in this very guest inn?
She was so overjoyed she could have danced.
"It's been a while."
When Bu Eun-seol acknowledged her, she bloomed into a smile like a flower unfurling.
"Have you been well?"
Bu Eun-seol responded with nothing more than an indifferent nod.
"Well enough."
His demeanor was so aloof it bordered on cold, but Jongri Sa-yu didn't take it to heart.
She had long since learned that Bu Eun-seol's personality was naturally detached.
"By the way—"
She swiftly took the seat across from him, eyes sparkling.
"If you really want to help them, wouldn't giving them money be better than buying them expensive meals?"
Jongri Sa-yu was sharp.
She had already discerned that Bu Eun-seol wasn't in the mood for conversation, so she steered the topic toward something he couldn't ignore.
"Rather than stuffing themselves for a single day, wouldn't thin porridge that lasts them a whole year be better?"
"If you give street children large sums, they'll just be robbed," Bu Eun-seol replied flatly.
"And you can't support them forever. So letting them eat their fill of good food... is the greatest kindness you can offer them."
Having survived on begging since childhood, Bu Eun-seol understood the lives of street urchins better than anyone.
"I see."
She nodded, watching his distant expression with quiet fascination.
Truthfully, whether he bought them meals or gave them money didn't matter.
What she wanted was to keep talking to him.
'Cold in speech and expression, but warm at heart.'
Her eyes gleamed even brighter.
Seeing how freely he spent money on those children, she could tell that beneath his indifferent exterior, Bu Eun-seol was a deeply kind person.
And that only made her like him more.
'Come to think of it, he risked his life fighting Gu Ju-hon for me.'
Though Gu Ju-hon had blocked their escape, making the fight inevitable, she romanticized it—believing Bu Eun-seol had stepped forward to save her.
"But what brings you here?"
"There's only one reason to visit an inn."
Only then did Jongri Sa-yu notice Bu Eun-seol's long-cold bowl of noodles.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I interrupted your meal."
"Don't mind it."
He brought the cold noodles to his lips.
He had never wasted food in his life, and it made no difference to him whether it was hot or cold.
But Jongri Sa-yu, looking apologetic, called for the waiter.
"Excuse me! Two bowls of shredded-chicken noodles, stir-fried vegetables, a cold dish, fried shrimp, and one beef-and-matsutake dish, please!"
Then she winked at Bu Eun-seol.
"As an apology, I'll treat you to a proper meal."
"Unnecessary."
"No refusals! This meeting is fate. Besides, I've got plenty of money."
She sat across from him with an innocent smile.
"Enough to feed a man I like for a lifetime... Hoho, anyway, my family's wealth goes beyond what's publicly known."
It was likely true.
The Needle King Clan operated covert teams to hunt down those producing Human Blossoms—their resources were no joke.
Realizing her beauty alone wasn't enough, she subtly flaunted her background.
"By the way, are you still chasing that enemy of yours?"
She nibbled at the lavish spread of dishes as she spoke.
"Though I suppose it's about time the Thousand Swords Society resumed its activities in the martial world."
By now, Jongri Sa-yu had grown comfortable chatting even when Bu Eun-seol didn't respond.
She was a wandering physician, not just healing the sick but also hunting down those who created Human Blossoms—a true heroine among heroines.
Having finally found Bu Eun-seol, she wasn't about to let this chance slip by.
"..."
But Bu Eun-seol remained silent, quietly eating his noodles as if he hadn't heard a word.
"Ah, come to think of it, there was a plague in Hwangju Prefecture in the past. If I recall—"
Suddenly, Bu Eun-seol's indifferent eyes sharpened.
He and his grandfather had worked here for ten years as morticians.
Since when had there been a plague?
"When was there a plague in Hwangju Prefecture?"
When he finally spoke, she beamed and shook her head.
"Not recently. About forty years ago, I think?"
"Forty years?"
"I didn't experience it myself—I heard it from my grandfather."
Glancing around, she leaned in and whispered.
"Grandfather came here to treat the sick during the outbreak. And, well... he mentioned fighting some terrifying swordsman with seven fingers..."
Thud.
Before he realized it, Bu Eun-seol had shot to his feet.
Forty years ago.
Not only had there been a plague in Hwangju Prefecture—
The Seven Fingers Demonic Blade Bu Jan-yang had been here?