ch 20

 

Chapter 20

“The situation is turning sour.”

Zhuge Bu, the Heavenly Stratagem Scholar, paced back and forth inside his office, his face etched with anxiety. Baek Woo-gyeong, who had been calmly reading the letter his uncle had tossed him, asked quietly:

“So, you’re saying that over a dozen clans have already sent letters like this?”

“That’s right. Even some of those who signed the joint petition themselves! They say they’ll ‘watch the situation,’ but how is that any different from taking a step back? If the Demonic Cult enters the Central Plains, their first thought should be to stop them. What’s this nonsense about waiting? To profit while others fight?”

He was right. There had been speculation that a grand alliance between the Orthodox and Unorthodox factions might be possible, but the moment the Demonic Cult made its swift declaration, the once-fervent atmosphere died down in an instant. It was to be expected from men who swayed with every rumor in the Jianghu, but Zhuge Bu was so incensed that his nearly perfected plan had been derailed in this manner that he didn't know what to do.

Hearing Zhuge Bu's response, Baek Woo-gyeong smiled calmly. He set down the letter and spoke to his maternal uncle.

“The ones pulling out are the Unorthodox factions and those in the grey area, anyway. How can we expect the same sense of duty from them as we do from our own Orthodox Faction?”

“But they represent a significant force. If used properly, they could have been a useful shield.”

“Yes, that’s true. But they were always considered a variable. We didn't fundamentally include their strength in our primary calculations, did we? Things had just been going too well until now. Not every human plan can fall into place so perfectly.”

Baek Woo-gyeong spoke with composure.

`That side of him… he’s so much like his mother.`

Zhuge Bu looked at Baek Woo-gyeong, thinking of his poor sister who had passed away not long ago. His sister, who possessed a disposition so brilliant it felt wasted on a woman, had passed down all her strengths to the nephew before him. Not only her unshakeable confidence in the face of any task, but also her meticulous nature and dignified bearing.

To be honest, the father who had died before the boy was even born had given him nothing but a surname and a face. The child had grown up under the care of the Zhuge Clan and was no different from a son to him.

Seeing his proud nephew’s steady demeanor, Zhuge Bu’s hasty heart began to calm, as if he were slowly regaining his senses. The young man was perfectly composed, while he, the elder, had been pacing around like an anxious puppy. A wave of embarrassment washed over him as he belatedly realized this. He stopped his unseemly wandering and returned to his seat behind the desk.

“Hah… It seems I’ve shown you an unseemly side of myself.”

Zhuge Bu said, his face flush with embarrassment. His nephew smiled gently at the apology.

“Not at all, Uncle.”

“Honestly, this is the most critical juncture. But with one or two things constantly deviating from our plans, I suppose I grew impatient.”

“What is it that worries you so? While there are some who wish to defect, their numbers are not as large as you might think. Getting them to sign the petition so quickly is proving effective. Gathering our forces is proceeding smoothly, and the response from the major clans has been enthusiastic. Wouldn't you say that while the small branches may differ, the main trunk of the plan is proceeding as expected?”

“Hah…”

“What is it?”

“Actually, it’s something else. A suspicious air is stirring within the Righteous Path Alliance itself.”

“Within the Righteous Path Alliance?”

As if hearing it for the first time, Baek Woo-gyeong raised an eyebrow and looked at Zhuge Bu. Spurred on by his nephew’s curious gaze, Zhuge Bu began to speak.

“You must have heard the nasty rumors about the Tang Clan. Those rumors are now being accepted as fact, and the Tang Clan’s prestige has plummeted.”

“Yes, I am aware of that.”

“Not long ago, Tang Jeok-hyeong, the eldest of the Tang Clan’s Five Venoms, returned and turned the family upside down while investigating the matter. That clumsy fool Tang Chu-yang left evidence lying around, so they couldn’t even properly refute the claims and had to take all the blame. The commotion leaked outside, proving the scandal, and now they’re stuck. Thanks to that, the Tang Clan cannot be counted as part of our forces for the foreseeable future.”

Even if the Tang Clan’s internal strife subsided faster than expected, it was useless now that the rumors had spread. The Righteous Path Alliance could not act alongside a clan suspected of joining hands with the Wusheng Cult, and the Tang Clan themselves, aware of how quickly their situation could change, would not dare to contribute their forces recklessly.

Excluding the Zhuge Clan, the Tang Clan was the most crucial force among the Five Great Clans. Not only had they been proactive on their own, but their poisons and hidden weapons were also exceptionally useful tools. Zhuge Bu had planned on receiving no small amount of their help in the future, so to have them drop out of his plans before he could even properly use them was a regrettable loss.

“If this had been a problem limited to the Tang Clan, it wouldn't weigh on my mind so heavily. It’s a shame, but it can’t be helped, and as you said, plans always have unexpected variables. But what troubles me is that this scandal has become a pretext for suspicion to spread to other clans.”

Baek Woo-gyeong listened with a thoughtful expression. Zhuge Bu, sighing as if a weight was on his chest, continued his story slowly, without rushing.

“Rumors are now circulating throughout the Jianghu that it’s not just the Tang Clan, but that many other clans within the Righteous Path Alliance have joined hands with the Wusheng Cult. It has even reached a point where people are speculating that we are trying to focus the world’s attention on the Demonic Cult because we ourselves are cooperating with the Wusheng Cult. I’ve heard the rumor is so widespread that even our own Righteous Path Alliance warriors secretly know of it.

Of course, with no concrete evidence, few people believe it with any conviction, but for the Righteous Path Alliance, simply being under such suspicion is quite damaging. If the Orthodox Faction loses its justification, who will follow us? Moreover, our collaborators are subtly being swayed by the rumors. With the Tang Clan’s precedent before them, they seem worried that they too might suffer the same fate.”

“A belated worry. Weren't they the ones who swore to endure any humiliation for the greater good when they first stepped forward? Of course, we must maintain the utmost secrecy since we are using means that cannot be called honorable, but it was impossible to completely prevent an unfortunate incident like the Tang Clan’s. I thought everyone knew and agreed to this. Did they start this endeavor without that much resolve?”

“It can’t be helped, Woo-gyeong. No matter how much resolve one has, the human heart wavers when faced with reality.

Everyone did not jump into this with the same unwavering conviction as you. Even the clans that most faithfully executed the plan must have calculated their gains and losses at least once or twice. They moved because they calculated that the benefits would outweigh the losses, but now that the damage is greater than expected, they’re starting to think about their initial investment.”

“Then we must push forward with even more tenacity. We have only reached the halfway point of the initial plan. Rice must be harvested when it is ripe, and fruit tastes best after it is picked. Acting rashly before things have matured will render all our efforts thus far meaningless. You know as well as I do, Uncle, that their attitude could ruin our great cause.”

“Yes. You’re right. Now is not the time for us to waver.”

“So please, Uncle, lend me your aid. If you step forward and placate them, things will be patched up for a while. If there is one thing that must be prioritized in the current situation, it is consolidating the power of the Orthodox Faction. The reason we are pushed back by the Demonic Cult is not because we are less capable or less powerful than them. It is because we are divided into too many factions, making it difficult to unite our strength. This is the most opportune moment to strike the Demonic Cult. If we miss this golden opportunity, the Orthodox Faction will have to submit to them forever, just as we have done until now.”

Baek Woo-gyeong’s eyes flashed as he spoke with a strong tone. What he said was perfectly aligned with Zhuge Bu’s own thoughts. Having led the plan this far, it was too late to turn back. He had not shied away from any means to achieve this one great goal. Among them were things that a human being should not do.

The Righteous Path Alliance had gained this golden opportunity because they had endured all those sacrifices to realize the plan. The cause was one thing, but thinking of his nephew, who had dedicated his entire life to this endeavor, he could not refuse his request.

“If we do that, it will be fine for a while. But only for a while. If the situation does not change after that, the desertion of our forces will accelerate. It’s obvious that even our allies will start to play it safe as time passes. How do you intend to resolve this situation?”

“There is only one way to block a thrusting spear: with a shield. It seems everyone has forgotten this fact, their minds consumed by the issue at hand. All we need to do is show the world who is the spear and who is the shield.”

“How?”

“First, we must show them what happens when you’re hit by the spear.”

Baek Woo-gyeong took a booklet from his robes and handed it to Zhuge Bu. It looked like an ordinary book, but its cover, made of oiled paper, was blank.

Zhuge Bu took the booklet with a curious look and examined its contents. Inside, familiar clan names were listed in dense rows. At first, he thought it was a copy of the joint petition, but a closer look revealed it was not.

Some of the clans on the list had joined the petition, and some had not. In fact, proportionally, there were more clans on the list that had not joined the petition than those that had.

“What is this?”

“These are the clans that will serve as an example. To show that the spear is dangerous, someone has to be struck by it, wouldn’t you agree?”

A chill ran down Zhuge Bu’s spine. Only after hearing Baek Woo-gyeong’s words did he understand the true nature of this booklet. This was none other than a kill list. A bloody sacrifice to be made as an example, to sway the public opinion of the Jianghu, which was in disarray following the Demonic Cult’s arrival.

His nephew, who had been instilled with a desire for revenge against the Demonic Cult by his sister from a young age, had staked everything on bringing down his mortal enemy. His nature, which spared no sacrifice for the greater good, was the product of the thorough education he had received from his sister, Zhuge Hui-ryeon.

But even knowing all this, there were times when he felt a shiver. Even while guessing the reason for his nephew’s actions, he was sometimes overwhelmed by that resolute determination.

A man of such caliber that, had he been born in a time of chaos, he would have become a ruthless warrior capable of founding a nation. That was how Zhuge Bu assessed his nephew.

`No, perhaps this boy is already a ruthless hero. Hiding a fiery heart within a quiet exterior, manipulating the myriad events of the Jianghu from the unseen shadows—how could he not be called a ruthless hero? It’s a good thing the world doesn’t know his true nature. If they did, they would fear not only Cheonma, but this boy as well.`

Blood is blood, after all. A tiger’s blood doesn't just disappear.

Zhuge Bu, who had inadvertently thought of Cheonma and Baek Woo-gyeong at the same time, belatedly realized what he had just thought and hastily erased it from his mind.

That Woo-gyeong was Cheonma's flesh and blood was a secret among secrets. Even the boy himself was unaware of the fact, so he absolutely had to avoid making a mistake by carelessly thinking about it.

`Woo-gyeong must be, and always be, of the Zhuge bloodline. Born of the deceased Sword Hero, and raised by the Zhuge Clan—a scion of the Orthodox Faction.`

Zhuge Bu steeled his heart, quickly erasing the thought that had surfaced unconsciously.

“Of course, I do not intend to deal with all of them. This is a list I’ve compiled considering various circumstances. Please refine it, Uncle, by removing what you must and adding what you see fit.”

Baek Woo-gyeong requested politely, bowing his head. He was asking Zhuge Bu to complete the kill list he had created.

“I know this is a difficult request. But everything is for the greater good, so please, Uncle, I ask you to endure it.”

Baek Woo-gyeong’s attitude was resolute and dignified. In his firm gaze, one could feel the strong determination that only a true warrior, who feels no shame in his actions, could possess.

As if pushed by his nephew’s will, Zhuge Bu accepted the kill list. Not returning the booklet but placing it on the desk was tantamount to giving his consent. Seeing this, Baek Woo-gyeong bowed his head once more. He did not voice his thanks, but Zhuge Bu was not so foolish as to misunderstand what that respectful gesture meant.

“So, what do you plan to do from now on?”

“For the time being, I will focus on my training. It would not look good for me, a man with no official position in the Righteous Path Alliance, to be too forward.”

“Yes, I suppose so. I understand. I will call for you again once this booklet is complete. Take care of your health, and train hard.”

“Yes, Uncle. I will keep that in mind.”

Having finished his business, Baek Woo-gyeong rose from his seat. After a graceful bow, he withdrew from the office, leaving Zhuge Bu alone in the room. He looked down at the booklet with a thoughtful expression, then slowly turned his head to look at a letter that had come from his family.

Not long ago, a letter had arrived from his clan asking for his decision on a particularly troublesome matter related to the family business. He had put it aside due to a mountain of other work, but now that he had a moment of respite, the first thing that came to mind was family affairs.

According to his younger brother, who was acting as the head of the family in his stead, the Zhuge Clan was suffering from a considerable headache due to a tedious territorial dispute. The ones vexing the Zhuge Clan, the leader of the Five Great Clans, were the Cheonsim Manor, a deeply rooted local power in Xiangyang.

As the Zhuge Clan’s influence had recently risen like the morning sun, they had attempted to expand their territory beyond Xiangfan and into Xiangyang, but they were repeatedly thwarted by the Cheonsim Manor, which had reigned as the hegemon of Xiangyang for many years.

Cheonsim Manor, which held Xiangyang’s economy in its grasp, was unwilling to yield its foundation to an outside force like the Zhuge Clan, and with local sentiment leaning in their favor, the Zhuge Clan’s business ventures had always met with failure.

However, the Zhuge Clan could not easily give up on Xiangyang. The most important of the official roads crossing Hebei Province passed through Xiangyang to reach Xiangfan. For the Zhuge Clan, which sought to hold the entire economy of Xiangfan in one hand, it was impossible to achieve their goal without establishing a foothold in Xiangyang.

The future of the clan was at stake, so they had invested immense wealth and time, yet everything remained at a standstill. Cheonsim Manor could not be swayed by wealth, nor did they show any weakness when shown goodwill. They had even proposed a marriage alliance, but were rejected on the grounds that the daughter’s health was frail. With their stance being so unyielding, the Zhuge Clan was at a loss. As they were both clans of the Orthodox Faction, even using force as a last resort was impossible.

`...Come to think of it, there are not many Righteous clans on this list. If the Righteous forces are so obviously preserved, it won’t be long before someone notices something is amiss.`

After stroking his chin in thought for a moment, Zhuge Bu finally made a decision and picked up a brush. On the blank space his nephew had left, the name of Cheonsim Manor was added. After a little more consideration, he added a few more names for the benefit of not only the Zhuge Clan but also other allies.

The names of those who were like thorns under the fingernail, though not highly prominent, were newly added to the sinister list: Bangrim Escort Agency, which was in fierce competition with the Huashan Sect’s affiliated escort services, and Jangrak Fortress, which had relentlessly clung to a mistake the son of the Diancang Sect’s leader had made while drunk, thereby shaming them.

Some names were erased, and some were added. The kill list, which considered not only the balance of the entire Jianghu but also meticulously accounted for the interests of each major clan, became more perfect as time passed. It was at that moment that the list Baek Woo-gyeong had presented became a kill list in the truest sense. But Zhuge Bu, preoccupied with the new names, did not notice this fact at all.

***

**Sting, sting.**

Suddenly, the top of his head stung. As if a small ant was biting his scalp, a very small area would prickle sharply and then subside. Annoyed by the sensation on his head, Munpyeong groggily opened his eyes.

`Who’s touching my head while I’m sleeping?`

Annoyed in his sleep, he raised a hand to swat at the top of his head. He had intended to shoo away a bug if one was there, but unexpectedly, his hand was caught. Waking up in a daze, Munpyeong rubbed his sleepy eyes and looked up.

“Why don’t you sleep more? You went to bed late last night, too.”

Cheonma spoke nonchalantly after waking a person from a sweet sleep. His words contradicted his actions, but he didn't seem to be speaking idly, as he even gave a paternal pat on the chest, urging him to sleep more.

Only when his eyes met the upside-down face of Cheonma did Munpyeong realize that he was using his lap as a pillow. To be precise, it wasn’t that he had used his lap, but that his head had been forcibly placed there. He had no memory of resting his head on his lap himself, so this was an assault suffered during sleep, not an act of his own will.

“What are you doing now?”

Even as he stared blankly up at Cheonma, the top of his head stung. Cheonma, who had one hand on Munpyeong’s forehead and was rummaging through his hair with the other, answered his question calmly.

“Plucking white hairs.”

“…White hairs?”

“Yes. White hairs.”

`Am I still half-asleep? I think I’m hearing things…`

For a moment, Munpyeong consoled himself that he had misheard, but only after Cheonma confirmed it again did he realize it wasn't a hallucination. Just in case, he glanced to the side, and my goodness, on the silk cloth spread by his head was a small pile of plucked hairs.

`He was really plucking my white hairs while I was sleeping?`

Flabbergasted, Munpyeong looked up at Cheonma with an incredulous gaze.

“Why are you suddenly plucking the hair of a sleeping person? What’s wrong with having a few strands of white hair?”

“They keep catching my eye and bothering me. You can’t tell at a glance, but if you look closely, there are quite a few. Is something troubling you these days? There are a lot more than before.”

Of course, something had been troubling Munpyeong lately. It was the nagging Cheonma did every time he saw his face. Your hair is graying early, your skin is rough, the whites of your eyes are yellow, and what's with those wrinkles around your eyes? Lately, Cheonma had been nitpicking Munpyeong’s appearance every time their eyes met.

`So what? What am I supposed to do about it? It’s natural for people to age.`

At first, he had laughed it off as nothing, but as the criticisms were repeated, it started to subtly bother him. Thanks to that, he had even started looking into a bronze mirror, something he never did, to search for signs of aging, just to see if there was any mark on his face that deserved to be mentioned so often.

“Stop plucking them. They say gray hairs grow back more if you pluck them.”

“That only applies to premature graying. At your age, you can hardly call it premature, can you?”

The old man, with hair as glossy as ebony at the age of eighty, mercilessly poked at another’s sore spot.

`Ah, seriously. This is so annoying!`

Munpyeong frowned and tried to sit up. But Cheonma’s hand firmly held his head down, giving him no way to escape.

“My Lord!”

“Hold still. I’m almost done.”

“I’m fine, I tell you! Why do you keep doing this? It makes sense for me to pluck your white hairs, but for you to pluck mine? Does that even make any sense?”

Technically, he was right. In the natural order of things, there was no need for a man past eighty to worry about the hair of a young man who had just passed thirty. An eighty-year-old man’s hair would have turned as white as scallion roots, but a thirty-year-old man still had a lot of time before that happened.

But Cheonma, having transcended the normal laws of nature through age reversal, had entirely different concerns than ordinary old men.

He would continue to live in a youthful form for decades to come. His body had reached a state where it always maintained its optimal condition, so he wouldn't age even if he didn't pay special attention to it.

Munpyeong, on the other hand, was in a different situation. He was young now, but he would soon age, and unless he reached the same state as Cheonma, he would die earlier. It wasn’t a joke; it was truly more likely that Munpyeong would go first.

Realizing this fact while looking down at the sleeping Munpyeong, Cheonma’s heart grew so anxious that he couldn't sleep at all.

“You’re right. By age and logic, you should be plucking my hair, but here I am, plucking yours. It’s a ridiculous state of affairs.”

Cheonma remained unfazed by Munpyeong’s resentful protests. Only after he had plucked every last white hair he could find did he finally let Munpyeong go. Munpyeong watched, aghast, as he wrapped the hairs in a piece of silk, burned them to ash with the True Fire of Samadhi, and then used his internal energy to blow even the ashes away, as if he had some grudge against the hairs.

Munpyeong shot up and sat down, smoothing his disheveled hair and sitting knee-to-knee with Cheonma. Cheonma flicked the ash from his fingertips and faced him.

“Why have you been like this lately?”

Munpyeong got straight to the point. He had tried to endure it, thinking it was better to let things slide, but Cheonma’s actions were going too far. If he were just teasing him, he could at least understand, but looking at his current behavior, it seemed less like he was trying to torment Munpyeong and more like he was genuinely consumed by worry.

“It’s not enough that you scold me every time our eyes meet, now you’re plucking a sleeping man’s hair? Don’t you think you’re going too far? Thanks to you, now even I’m getting self-conscious. Why do I have to worry about aging at my age?”

“Right? It’s bothering you, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is! You sing a song about me aging every time you see my face, and you expect me not to be bothered by it?”

“Good that it’s bothering you. I’m saying it on purpose to bother you. If it didn't bother you, it would be a waste of breath for me to tease you.”

It was the last straw for Munpyeong, and he finally let out his frustration, but Cheonma dismissed his heartfelt feelings and even showed a pleased smile. Realizing his response was utterly sincere, Munpyeong felt a surge of anger.

`Ah, he’s so detestable. There are times I really want to just punch this person.`

Munpyeong clenched his fists, voicing in his mind what he couldn’t say out loud. Of course, he was angry, not insane, so he didn’t entertain any audacious thoughts of actually swinging his clenched fists at Cheonma. He was just clenching his fists to control his emotions. Since ancient times, clenching one's fists has been a very useful method for controlling one's feelings.

“If you don't like what I'm saying, then you should make an effort too. I'm not asking for a complete metamorphosis. At the very least, you should reach the state of Pure Blue Flame.”

To Munpyeong, who had only just reached the peak of mastery, Cheonma was demanding a far too lofty goal.

The Pure Blue Flame. The term originated from the alchemical practices of ancient Daoist masters, meaning ‘the moment the flame in the furnace turns pure blue.’ Daoists seeking immortality through alchemy considered their elixir successful when the furnace flame turned pure blue. Martial artists borrowed this term to describe the stage when one’s martial arts reached a state of pure maturity.

However, the term was also currently used to mean slowing the aging process and maintaining youth for a long time. Since this effect usually began to appear at the transcendent level or higher, the transcendent stage was also referred to as the state of Pure Blue Flame.

“It’s just as remote for me to become a transcendent master now as it was before. Didn’t you say so yourself, my Lord? That my reaching the peak was entirely due to the internal elixir, and that from now on I must focus more on enlightenment. But enlightenment isn’t something you can gain just by being pushed. I will try, but I can't make a promise without a deadline.”

If it were up to him, Munpyeong would want to become a transcendent master too. And not just transcendent; he wanted to reach the stage of the transcendence, the stage of profundity, and even the stage of life and death, a realm no one had ever reached. But that wasn’t something that could be achieved just by wanting it. Effort was important, but so were aptitude and luck.

“Still, there was a shortcut before. But from now on, it’s all up to you. Whether you grow old and die without even becoming a transcendent master, or you become one and live a hundred years with me, it’s all up to you.”

`Wait, why does the calculation work out like that? Since when did reaching the transcendent level mean I had to live a hundred years with him?`

Munpyeong had only thought about advancing his cultivation level; he had never considered how he would have to live afterward.

He looked at Cheonma with a bewildered expression. He hadn't known that becoming a transcendent master came with such a side option. And before that, what? There was a shortcut?

“What do you mean there was a shortcut? Can you use a shortcut to reach the transcendent level?”

He had heard stories of people gaining a fortuitous encounter and rapidly advancing their cultivation, but he had never heard of reaching the transcendent level through a shortcut. In martial arts, a "shortcut" usually meant demonic or unorthodox arts, but the Demonic Cult's arts, despite the name, were so pure that there was as little room for shortcuts as in the arts of the great orthodox sects of the Central Plains.

“Just like how you reached the peak this time, if we had pushed through with a large amount of internal energy all at once, it would have been possible for you to become a half-transcendent master.”

“And how in the world would you get that much internal energy?”

If the internal elixir of an enlightened master could only get him to the peak, where would the internal energy to instantly become a transcendent master come from?

Munpyeong asked with a skeptical attitude, as Cheonma was claiming something that seemed impossible. But Cheonma, as always, had a clear answer to the question.

“Just do the Art of Plucking Yang to Supplement Yang consistently for about ten years. If we had done it just twice a day, morning and evening, ten years would have been enough.”

Cheonma seemed to have a deep sense of pride in that technique. Every time he opened his mouth, he brought up that damned Plucking Yang to Supplement Yang.

Munpyeong’s face reddened in a conditioned reflex, but he couldn’t hide his confusion. It wasn't as if they weren’t having sex these days; in fact, the frequency had increased compared to before. It was an embarrassing thing to admit, but it had become a daily event, happening every single night.

So why couldn’t they use the shortcut anymore? It wasn’t that he wanted to use the shortcut, but he couldn’t understand the situation, so Munpyeong found himself tilting his head. Judging by his genuinely regretful demeanor, it didn't seem like he was now regretting giving away his internal energy. What could be the reason?

`Come to think of it, I haven’t heard him mention the art of Plucking Yang to Supplement Yang recently. Even when we have sex, we just tangle our bodies; we’ve never done it for the purpose of training.`

Munpyeong finally realized that it had been a long time since he had last circulated the energy of the Plucking Yang to Supplement Yang technique. The sex was always relentlessly driven, and his partner embraced him so naturally that he was swept up in his momentum and had relations in a daze, failing to notice. At first, he had his own excuses for yielding, but after getting used to it, he didn’t even realize the excuse was gone.

“That shortcut, why can’t we use it anymore? Is there a problem with my internal energy?”

The martial arts internal energies Munpyeong currently possessed were a hodgepodge. There was the military martial art he had learned on the battlefield, the basic martial arts of the Demonic Cult, and on top of that, he had learned Cheonma’s Plucking Yang to Supplement Yang technique. After that, he had accepted the Divine Art of Heavenly Thunder.

Fortunately, the martial arts he had learned before were of a much lower level than the Divine Art of Heavenly Thunder, and the Plucking Yang to Supplement Yang technique was based on Daoist breathing methods, so it was more like a pure internal energy without any specific attribute. That was why there had been no problem when the Divine Art of Heavenly Thunder entered his body, but from Cheonma’s words, it seemed there was something more complex to it than Munpyeong’s simple calculation.

“It’s not that there’s a problem, it’s because of the Divine Art of Heavenly Thunder. The energy you originally had was not only motley but also small in quantity, so it could mix without issue with the pure internal energy that had no specific attribute. The Divine Art of Heavenly Thunder, on the other hand, is different. It is a supreme art that has been refined by our sect for nearly a thousand years. It has the same roots as my internal energy but has branched off in a different direction, making it too powerful and different to mix. Unless I want to turn you into a cripple, we can’t use the same method anymore. That’s why I said it’s up to you now.”

“…”

The words "motley" and whatnot could have been offensive, but Munpyeong just stared at Cheonma in silence. Knowing that Munpyeong sometimes showed reactions he couldn’t understand, Cheonma studied his expression, wondering what was wrong with him now.

He didn't think he had done anything wrong, but the man who had been complaining half-jokingly now had a hardening expression. Munpyeong, with a serious attitude, clasped his hands on his knees and asked in a low voice:

“But why did you give me the Divine Art of Heavenly Thunder? Knowing all that.”

“Didn’t I tell you? I didn't need it, so I threw it away on you.”

The Divine Art of Heavenly Thunder was rejected even by the body of a first-rate master like Munpyeong. So it would be a pearl before swine to give it to his disciples who had inherited his own martial arts, and he couldn’t just bestow the symbol of the past Heavenly Demons on anyone else.

“Yes. You threw away the ancient Heavenly Demon’s ultimate art on me. Thanks to you, I became a peak master and no longer have to rely on you. Unlike the Plucking Yang to Supplement Yang, where I grew by unilaterally depending on your grace, I now have a foundation to strive on my own. Thanks to you, you’ve lost the opportunity to hold my weakness over me.”

As he said this, Munpyeong looked straight at Cheonma. His dark pupils stared at him intently, as if trying to discern his true feelings.

“Why did you do all this for me? …Why are you so good to me?”

When he had heard that the technique Cheonma had given him was the art of Plucking Yang to Supplement Yang, he had just accepted it. To demand his body in exchange for transferring internal energy—where could one find such a shameless temptation? It was a rare favor, but a favor that didn't end as just a favor was typical of Cheonma.

Like most things in the Jianghu, everything he received from Cheonma came with a price. So even though they were in a one-sided relationship of giving and receiving, a transactional relationship was established. Yes, a transactional relationship. Until he received internal energy through the Plucking Yang to Supplement Yang, Cheonma was strictly a party to a transaction for Munpyeong.

At first, Cheonma had violated him without any conditions. To him, Munpyeong was truly nothing, and he took him simply because he could. When he was in the Demonic Cult, Cheonma played with Munpyeong like a toy. The reason Munpyeong struggled with him in those days was the natural reaction of a human whose dignity was being ignored.

But Cheonma gradually changed. When he came out into the Jianghu. And when he reappeared before Munpyeong in the guise of Yun Seung-hyo. In the form of another person, he took care of and cherished Munpyeong.

Munpyeong, who didn’t know his identity, fell head over heels for him. He thought it was his first love and believed he would be his one and only. That’s why the shock he received when his true colors were revealed was immense.

Munpyeong, who knew Cheonma’s cold and detached nature from his time in the Demonic Cult, had thought he had been playing with him all along. A foolish human who couldn’t even recognize someone after sleeping with them—he must have approached him to mock him for that.

But as time passed, that suspicion faded. After his true identity was revealed, there was no particular torment, and signs that Cheonma truly cared for him appeared here and there.

He took really good care of Munpyeong. He was meticulous about even the smallest things, and if Munpyeong needed something, Cheonma knew it before he did.

`Even this time. That transaction was useful but uncomfortable for me, but for him, that situation would have been extremely pleasant. At least, if all he wanted was my body, there probably wasn't a more ideal state.`

Cheonma had willingly thrown away the opportunity to use it as a weakness to wield him as he pleased. Munpyeong felt that this was the greatest consideration he had shown him among all the things he had done. Since there was no desired price, where else could one find a favor with a purer meaning?

And sure enough, Cheonma gave an answer that was almost identical to what Munpyeong had expected.

“I did it because I knew what you wanted. Knowing your place too well isn't always a good thing. You were so aware of your shortcomings that you were on the verge of dying from your inferiority complex. Even if you became a transcendent master through the Plucking Yang to Supplement Yang, would you have been able to take pride in it with that lofty self-esteem of yours?”

Cheonma pointed out Munpyeong’s self-deprecating attitude and smirked.

“Seeing that pathetic sight, I thought it would be better to just push and nag you to train more. That way, you wouldn't be so timid and downtrodden every time you do something.”

Even when saying something nice, not saying it kindly was Cheonma’s nature. But Munpyeong was more than accustomed to that personality.

Being favored by Cheonma was similar to being a puppy favored by a violent, young boy. You knew he liked you, but receiving that affection physically was quite painful and difficult.

“Did I look that pathetic to you?”

“Of course. I’ve never seen anyone so pathetic.”

Munpyeong would never know that Cheonma had barely managed to stop himself from saying he looked like a ‘drowned rat.’

“You’ve shown a pathetic person an undeserved consideration.”

“Because you’re pathetic, I have to make you not pathetic. Do you think I’d be satisfied with just anyone? If someone isn't on my level, I'll just make them my level. Let's start with becoming a transcendent master. There's a lot more to achieve after that, but that's the most urgent, so we need to solve that first.”

...Cheonma never let a person be moved for long. The way he always ruined the mood just as one’s heart was about to sway, it seemed to be his hobby. A person as perceptive as Cheonma couldn't possibly be doing it unknowingly.

Munpyeong’s future became daunting at Cheonma’s words that he would continue to harass him. He was suddenly reminded of a complaint Gwak Jin-mu, Cheonma’s second disciple, used to make back in the Demonic Cult. At the time, he had grumbled that a martial arts master should just teach martial arts, but he was being told to learn Western mathematics and astronomy, and to master latin, and all sorts of other things.

`If I stay by this person’s side much longer, am I going to end up like that?`

Munpyeong, who had come to know Cheonma’s nature well enough, couldn't help but worry. He would gladly learn if he were taught martial arts, but if he were to be taught the Four Books and Five Classics or poetry, calligraphy, and painting, which gave him a headache just thinking about them, he would surely want to run away.

`And wait. One more thing. Why has every sentence he’s said lately been predicated on a lifetime? A person who has never even asked if I want to live with him, and it's so matter-of-fact? What's this about a hundred years together, and what's this about ‘starting with’ the transcendent level? If there's a start, that means there's a next step, right?`

As his thoughts reached this point, Munpyeong became curious about the life plan that existed in Cheonma’s mind. He wanted to know just how far this unilateral plan, made without even asking, extended. But Munpyeong couldn’t bring himself to ask such a question, fearing the coercion he might receive.

What if he asked and it became something ‘he had agreed to’? He had no confidence in winning a verbal argument with Cheonma, and if he got caught up like that, he might really get roped in.

**Crash! Thud!**

Just as Munpyeong, wanting to avoid creating trouble with his mouth, was about to hurriedly change the subject, a timely commotion erupted outside, providing a perfect excuse.

Seeing his chance, Munpyeong quickly got off the bed and started getting dressed. He even feigned curiosity by pretending to look outside, but his intentions were obvious.

“It sounds like there’s some trouble outside. I’ll go take a look.”

As he spoke hurriedly, Cheonma coolly assessed his appearance. He could have just stayed in bed a little longer since he had nothing else to do, but the quick-moving man was already fully dressed.

“Trouble is just a fight. Why are you in such a hurry? Why don't you at least finish getting dressed?”

“It might not be unusual late at night, but a commotion like this in the morning is rare, isn’t it? I’ll go see what’s happening and let you know…”

But Munpyeong couldn't finish what he was about to say. A terrible scream from outside the door cut him off.

“Arrrggghhh!”

Bright red blood splattered across the white paper of the door. The stark sound of life and death being decided just a single door away was raw and immediate.

A lifeless body slumped to the floor. The head, completely severed from the torso, rolled out into the hallway and then dropped to the floor below. A brutal sword fight, a clash between first-rate masters rare in a rural town like this, was happening right outside their room.

“Die, you dog of the Demonic Cult! It was you! You’re the ones who reported our clan as a branch of the Wusheng Cult!”

Someone cried out in a grief-stricken voice. The speaker, who sounded like a young man, had cried so much that his voice was completely hoarse.

“You son of a bitch, who are you taking your anger out on after getting slapped somewhere else?! What did we report?!”

The response came from a middle-aged man with a raspy voice. He had a foul mouth, peppering his sentences with profanities.

“I know that the leader of your Nakseong Gang secretly visited the Demonic Cult’s forces last night! Our Samsan Sect was annihilated the day after you returned, so it must have been your doing that led to the false report!”

“What the fuck! If it was really the Demonic Cult that annihilated your Samsan Sect, then maybe you really were lackeys of the Wusheng Cult. If you’re angry, be angry at the Demonic Cult that destroyed you, why the hell are you bothering us?!”

“You call a righteous sect like ours lackeys of the Wusheng Cult? I see. I thought you were the only ones in this small Bunyang Village who would slander our Samsan Sect, and it turns out to be true!”

“Did you shove a dick in your ear, you fucking bastard? Ah, fuck it. Just kill that son of a bitch!”

Amid the fierce clash of swords, vulgar curses unbefitting of masters and desperate shrieks rang out. The young man, who seemed to have launched a sudden morning raid, appeared to have completely lost his sanity over the annihilation of his sect.

The unorthodox master, who denied the young man’s accusation, grew increasingly irritated by the sudden attack and pushed forward with sheer numbers.

The young man, who must have been a highly promising master in his sect, fought quite well even as he was being overwhelmed. The sounds of limbs flying, groans, and screams were all grand. Before they had even had breakfast, the paper door was soaked in blood, and it shuddered every time a person fell.

Munpyeong, who hadn’t expected such a chaotic battle when the commotion first started, watched the brawl unfolding outside the door with an expression of disbelief. If that door had been opened, the fight would have spilled into their room.

“…Shouldn’t we go out there?”

After observing the situation outside for a moment, Munpyeong turned to Cheonma and asked with a wry expression.

The simple door, made of a wooden frame with only paper pasted over it, was holding up without a problem even under the weight of several people because Cheonma had spread a thin barrier of energy over it. Having blocked the door to prevent anyone from entering, as well as to keep Munpyeong from leaving, Cheonma looked at him as if he had just said something ridiculous and asked:

“To do what?”

“What do you mean, to do what? To go out and stop the fight. If there’s a misunderstanding, we should clear it up, and save the innocent people who got caught in the middle.”

“There are no innocent people caught in the middle outside. They all sensed a fight was about to break out and fled long ago. Do you not know how the common people manage to survive so tenaciously despite countless wars?”

Cheonma, endlessly indifferent to the affairs of martial artists, was essentially saying to let them fight and kill each other since no commoners were involved.

But the Demonic Cult is involved. There might be a truly innocent person. Munpyeong, not as cold-hearted as Cheonma, looked outside with a lingering expression.

The young man’s breathing was becoming increasingly labored. No matter how great a master he was, fighting against dozens of enemies at once was a losing battle. His arm movements slowed, and he was hit more frequently. Worried about the young man’s condition, Munpyeong looked back at Cheonma again.

“Isn’t it too noisy? Should I just go out and quiet things down?”

“There’s no need for that. If it’s noisy, I’ll make it quiet.”

Cheonma added a little more energy to the barrier, blocking even the sound from entering the room. The room became astonishingly quiet. The brutal brawl happening outside now looked like a shadow play projected on the paper door, having no effect on Munpyeong, who stood just a step away.

“Just because your cultivation has risen a little, do you think you’re omnipotent? Even I cannot resolve all the grudges in the Jianghu. Let those who formed the grudges resolve them themselves. Now, come back to bed. It doesn't look like the fight will end anytime soon, so it wouldn't be a bad idea to get some more sleep.”

Cheonma spoke with a cynical attitude and beckoned Munpyeong back. His words were the very definition of reason and the most basic common sense for someone living in the Jianghu. Only after hearing them did Munpyeong realize that the one who had been about to act rashly wasn't Cheonma, but himself.

`That’s right. Why have I been like this lately? I’m sticking my nose into everything.`

The incident with the Three Venoms of the Tang Clan was understandable since a personal grudge was involved, but in a case like today’s, there was no reason for him to intervene.

He wasn't a righteous hero obsessed with chivalry, nor was he a busybody who loved to meddle in other people's affairs, so why was he trying to get involved in someone else’s grudge? And without even knowing who was truly at fault.

Munpyeong, who had often turned a blind eye to injustice in the past, felt his face grow hot with shame. The saying "forget the trap after catching the fish" was a perfect fit. He could understand why Cheonma would click his tongue at his arrogance.

Having no other choice, Munpyeong went back to the bed. When he returned and sat down, Cheonma pulled his head down to make him a lap pillow. Startled, Munpyeong looked up and asked Cheonma:

“What, are you going to pluck my white hairs again?”

That man with his unusually good eyesight, if he plucks every single one he sees, what am I supposed to do? Worried that his hair would be reduced by half, Munpyeong frowned, and Cheonma, finding it amusing, smiled and stroked his forehead.

“No, I’m just giving you a lap pillow.”

“You don’t have to go this far. Can’t I just lie down normally?”

`No, you can’t. If I let you, you’ll just prick up your ears and pay attention to what's happening outside.`

Cheonma, concerned that Munpyeong might develop a bad habit, decided to nip it in the bud and started doing things that would bother him. He began to fiddle with the ear of the man lying still, directly bringing up the topic Munpyeong had been trying so hard to avoid.

“By the way, about what we were talking about earlier. Starting with becoming a transcendent master. I have a few other plans for you besides that. Would you like to hear them?”

**Arrrggghhh.** At Cheonma’s nonchalant question, Munpyeong let out a silent scream.

`No, please, anything but that!`

But Cheonma, whose life’s joy was to torment Munpyeong, began to list, unprompted, all the things he wanted to teach him.

“Once your martial arts are sufficient, I plan to teach you latin first. Just as Chinese characters are the most powerful script in the Central Plains and its surroundings, latin is the most influential script in the West. If you don’t learn it, you’re likely to face difficulties later, so we should start with that.”

The first thing to torment Munpyeong was this unheard-of script called latin.

`Ugh. Isn’t that the subject that even Gwak Jin-mu, who was considered a genius, had to clutch his head over?`

Cheonma was setting the bar too high from the very beginning, giving Munpyeong a headache.

“…Why would I face difficulties if I don’t learn it? It’s not like I’ll ever use it in the Central Plains anyway.”

Unable to bring himself to say he didn’t want to study, Munpyeong tried to back out with the best excuse he could find. Cheonma’s face turned serious, as if to say, "What kind of ridiculous excuse is that?"

“You may not use it in the Central Plains, but you’ll have to use it when you go to the West.”

“Why would I have to go to the West?”

“Are you saying you plan to live your whole life confined to this tiny Central Plains? There’s a much wider world out there, so why be content as a frog in a well? Since you were born a human, you should see everything you can see and enjoy everything you can enjoy.”

Cheonma’s words made Munpyeong’s head spin. Cheonma’s progressive and open-minded attitude, even at his age, was truly something to be emulated, but Munpyeong, who had no intention of actually following his example, realized with bone-deep clarity that his future was going to be exhausting.

Unable to get up, he lay there and listened to Cheonma’s vast, almost grandiose life plan. It seemed that even if they lived to be 300, it wouldn’t be enough time to do everything on that list. Of course, Cheonma would last until then without a problem, but he had no talent for living that long.

While Cheonma was gleefully tormenting Munpyeong, the noise from outside gradually subsided. The dead were dead, the living remained, and the leavers left. For some, it was a crossroads of life and death, but for others, it was just a bothersome incident that happened in the morning. It felt cruel, but such was the way of the Jianghu.

At this point, Munpyeong did not yet understand the meaning of the scene they had witnessed.

A few days later, they would witness similar scenes in various places. Such incidents were happening not only in Bunyang Village but all over the Central Plains. The incident involving the Nakseong Gang and the Samsan Sect was merely a small part of a much larger phenomenon.

Like a flame catching on a pile of straw, the madness of slaughter spread throughout the Central Plains. Overnight, perfectly fine clans would be reduced to ashes. One day it was a Righteous sect, another day an Unorthodox sect. And sometimes, it was a clan from the grey area between them.

Countless clans were being senselessly annihilated, but no one knew who was behind the bloody calamity. The Demonic Cult denied having a hand in any of it, but few believed them. With each clan’s annihilation, the Demonic Cult was suspected even before the Wusheng Cult.

But the Demonic Cult was not the only one under suspicion. When a Righteous sect was annihilated, both the Wusheng Cult and the Demonic Cult were considered suspects, and when an Unorthodox sect was destroyed, even the name of the Righteous Path Alliance was cautiously mentioned.

If even one person had survived, they might have gotten a testimony, but unfortunately, there were no survivors. So people called this bloody calamity the "Hundred Ghosts' Nightly Tribulation." Despite the slaughter being committed everywhere, it was as if ghosts had done it, as no evidence could be found.

At first, it was just a series of indiscriminate attacks by an unknown group, but as time went on, the nature of the calamity changed. Less than a fortnight after the chain of clan annihilations began, a clan called the Nine Streams Manor was caught trying to attack a rival clan while disguised as another force, only to have their identity exposed and be annihilated themselves in a ridiculous turn of events.

When the truth of this incident became known, the repercussions were enormous. Thanks to the actions of the Nine Streams Manor, it was proven that, as some wise men had predicted from the beginning, there were indeed people who were using this hellish chaos for their own private purposes.

Given the scale of the Hundred Ghosts' Nightly Tribulation so far, the Nine Streams Manor could not have been the first to attempt such a thing. If all the tribulations had been caused by a single organization, the Jianghu would have been unified by them long ago, not have managed to survive until now. The Nine Streams Manor was not the first to try such a thing, but merely the first to fail.

What could have ended as a small spark had grown into a blaze that would burn the world, largely due to the active efforts of those who sought to use the chaos for their own gain.

With what had previously been mere speculation now proven to be fact, the already chaotic situation in the world spiraled toward catastrophe. The primary targets of vigilance for the clans of the Central Plains were no longer the Demonic Cult or the Wusheng Cult, but their neighbors. Countless grudges, from large-scale territorial disputes to minor personal duels, which were inevitable for those living as martial artists, now gleamed like daggers aimed at their backs.

For various reasons, brutal and bloody battles erupted between clans. Even matters that had once been reconciled became seeds of new conflict. The Jianghu of today was no different from a living hell. And all of it was Gwak Hyo's handiwork.

As the days passed, Cheonma’s mood visibly darkened. Munpyeong could not tell what he was thinking. The old man with the face of a youth stared silently at the world with his deep, dark eyes. Neither distant nor close, those eyes looked down upon the world as if observing it.

Whenever Cheonma had that look, Munpyeong wondered what he was thinking. When his thoughtful eyes looked at the warriors engaged in a sword fight, or beyond the broken walls of a small or medium-sized clan that had been burned to ashes by the hands of enemies. Munpyeong would feel a tingling at his fingertips and a heavy question would rise in a corner of his mind.

Cheonma’s decision to choose Munpyeong over Gwak Hyo at that critical moment had changed the fate of the world. If Cheonma had disregarded Munpyeong’s life at that time and captured Gwak Hyo, the world today might not have fallen into such misery.

For him, it was a matter of saving his one and only life, but from another perspective, it was no different from thousands of other lives being lost because of him. Even Munpyeong, for whom his own life was paramount, could not put himself first in a matter like this. Who could claim that their own life was more important than the well-being of the world? Even an emperor would not be so arrogant.

“What are you thinking about?”

Cheonma spoke to him casually, as if in passing. He had been staring down from the terrace for a long time without a word. Snapped out of his thoughts by the question, Munpyeong looked into the distance with a vacant expression and a faint smile.

“I was just wondering where Cao Cao’s tomb might be.”

The terrace they were standing on was the famous Geumbong Terrace, one of the three terraces built by Cao Cao. Cheonma, who happened to be passing through Linzhang County, had suggested they take a look at the famous city of Ye on their way, and Munpyeong, tired of the blood and slaughter he saw everywhere he turned, had agreed.

The Dongjak Terrace, the most famous and beautiful of Ye’s three terraces, had long since collapsed and become an earthen mound. Along with it, the Oknong Terrace on the left had also vanished, but the Geumbong Terrace on the right, though its former splendor was gone, still stood.

Below them, the waters of the Zhang River flowed majestically. As if still holding the memory of the brilliant capital of Ye from a thousand years ago, the waves of the Zhang River, breaking in the sunlight, were filled with a sparkling golden light.

“Come to think of it, today happens to be the 15th. Have you come up to the terrace on the anniversary of his death to play some music?”

“What do you mean by that?”

Munpyeong tilted his head at Cheonma’s sudden question. He didn’t know why he should be playing music, nor whose death anniversary the middle of the month was.

Realizing that Munpyeong hadn’t understood his joke, Cheonma smiled quietly and began to recite a poem.

“The palaces and towers of Dongjak Terrace have turned to ash and dust,

Only the tomb of Emperor Wu of Wei remains by the banks of the Zhang River.”

Munpyeong blinked at the lines, which seemed to echo what he had just said. Cheonma smiled again and recited the rest of the poem in a clear voice.

“Looking west now, a fitting sentiment remains,

How much more so for the people who sang and danced in those days.”

The poem he recited spoke of looking upon the ruins of a faded glory and the sense of the vast gap between generations in a world that had moved on. However, as Cheonma recited the poem, he did not convey any of that nostalgic sentiment. The hint of ridicule in his tone made it feel as if he were mocking the past.

After his short recitation, Cheonma explained what he had meant. Munpyeong, who enjoyed listening to stories, listened intently.

“Among the last words of Emperor Wu of Wei, there is this passage: ‘Let the concubines, palace ladies, and female entertainers I kept bring me meat and rice every morning, and on the 15th of every month, let them ascend the Dongjak Terrace and play music while looking west towards my tomb.’ To be honest, it’s a rather petty final wish for a man who shook the world, a hero of his time. But, ironically, it’s also what made those words famous.”

Cheonma said it was famous, but Munpyeong had never heard of it. All he knew about Cao Cao was from the stories of storytellers he had heard here and there throughout his life.

“That’s an interesting story. I didn’t know there was such a tale.”

“More pathetic than interesting. It perfectly reveals how vast human greed can be.”

Cheonma looked across the west bank of the Zhang River with a cynical expression. In the direction where Cao Cao’s tomb was said to be, a wide plain and low hills stretched out here and there. It wasn't exactly a breathtaking view, but the open vista was rewarding enough to have made the climb up the terrace worthwhile.

“Isn’t it because of such greed that a mere commoner was able to found a nation? Do you not have such greed, my Lord?”

“Such greed, you say. What kind of greed? The greed to found a nation?”

“No. The greed to have one’s name live on forever even after the body is dead. They say a tiger leaves its skin when it dies, and a person leaves their name. In a way, perhaps the only way for a human to achieve immortality is to leave their name to posterity.”

As he said, it was an unsightly thing to desire the same treatment in death as in life. But he could clearly understand Emperor Wu’s desire not to be forgotten even in death.

Emperor Wu’s last words shared a common root with the fiercely competitive desire for fame among martial artists. How many people, as human beings, had never had such a desire, even if they couldn't express it like Emperor Wu?

“You have an unexpected ambition, Munpyeong. Don’t tell me you also have such a desire? You want a name that is remembered forever? You want to be remembered for a thousand generations, like Emperor Wu or Emperor Zhaolie?”

“Of course not. How could a commoner like me even dream of such a thing? The one who could achieve such a thing is not me, but you, my Lord.”

Munpyeong gave a bitter smile at Cheonma’s teasing question. It was a lie to say that as a martial artist holding a sword, he had no desire to leave his name behind. But Munpyeong, who knew his own limitations well, was all too aware that such a desire was an absurd dream with no possibility of realization.

The person who could actually achieve such a thing was not Munpyeong, but Cheonma. He was the great patriarch of the demonic path, renowned throughout the world. Just as Bodhidharma was a thousand years ago, and Zhang Sanfeng was two hundred years ago, he too would be established as an immortal being, remembered in the Jianghu for generations to come.

“Hmm, I wonder about that.”

Cheonma muttered to himself, his gaze still fixed on the distance. Munpyeong, not knowing his deep thoughts, cast a curious glance at him. Meeting Munpyeong’s gaze, Cheonma turned to him with his usual cool smile.

“I am the patriarch of the demonic path of the world, and the greatest enemy of the righteous path. And I once came close to unifying the entire Central Plains. For that name to be remembered for a thousand generations means that the history of the Nine Great Sects all bowing down to me would also be preserved. Do you really think they would just let that happen?”

The things Cheonma was referring to were all in the past. They were events that had already happened, and nothing could be done to change them now, so he didn't understand what he meant by "letting it happen."

“But even so, what can they do? They are not gods; they can’t turn back time, can they?”

If you don't know, just ask. It's better to be a fool for a moment by asking than to live as a fool for a lifetime because you didn't have the courage to ask. Thanks to Cheonma’s brainwashing-like teachings, Munpyeong had become uninhibited in asking questions. He was not ashamed of his lack of understanding and posed his question to Cheonma.

“They can’t, so they resort to things like this. The people of the Orthodox Faction are truly willing to sacrifice trivial things for the greater good. Of course. That's right. Compared to leaving the name of a mere Heavenly Demon as a legend, what are a few thousand lives?”

“…You believe the Hundred Ghosts' Nightly Tribulation is the work of the Orthodox Faction, my Lord.”

“Of course. Who else could it be?”

“I thought it was Gwak Hyo. As you mentioned before, he is at the center of all the conspiracies happening in the Jianghu today.”

After a moment’s hesitation at Cheonma’s question, Munpyeong cautiously voiced the name he didn’t want to bring up. Cheonma nodded at his words.

There was no way Cheonma didn’t know that Munpyeong had been carrying that name in his heart. His behavior of constantly watching his expression, his darkening complexion whenever they passed by a scene of a tragedy—the evidence that Munpyeong was troubled by this incident was everywhere. Munpyeong probably blamed himself for what was happening.

`You stubborn fool.`

Cheonma inwardly clicked his tongue at Munpyeong, who was stubbornly holding onto his guilt even after he had been told in no uncertain terms that it had nothing to do with him.

Neither the ones who directly carried out the Hundred Ghosts' Nightly Tribulation, nor Cheonma himself, who was practically the cause of it, felt any responsibility for the matter, yet here was some unrelated fool blaming himself.

`Are you telling me I should have abandoned you at that time?`

If it were up to him, Cheonma wanted to sit him down and ask him sternly, but now he knew Munpyeong’s personality well enough not to act on it. If by some chance Munpyeong answered in the affirmative, or even if he just saw him hesitate without being able to answer, he knew all too well how he would react.

“Of course, the idea was borrowed from Gwak Hyo. But the ones who carried it out themselves are the various Righteous sects of the Righteous Path Alliance.”

“How can you be so certain? The Wusheng Cult might still have some strength left. No matter how much Gwak Hyo is hiding behind the mask of Young Master Baek, in the Righteous Path Alliance, he is merely a guest retainer.”

“You say that knowing that this ‘mere guest retainer’ moved the Tang Clan, opened the Black Demon Prison, and created living corpses with the power of the Orthodox Faction, right? Besides, they made a mistake in the raids, leaving clear evidence of their identity.”

“What evidence did they leave? As far as I know, the identity of those who led the Hundred Ghosts' Nightly Tribulation has not yet been revealed.”

“The fact that their identity has not yet been revealed. That itself is the evidence that it was the Orthodox Faction. Usually, such a bloody calamity is carried out to imprint their ferocity as terror. But the ones who first committed the Hundred Ghosts' Nightly Tribulation hid themselves so perfectly. They persistently left not a single survivor to tell the tale, and gathered all the dead bodies and burned them cleanly, down to the bones.

The enemies were so meticulous for a reason. If they weren’t afraid of the wounds on the corpses, why would they burn them? And if they weren’t afraid of a witness’s testimony, why were there no survivors?”

This conclusion could actually be easily inferred using a simple process of elimination. The way the Hundred Ghosts' Nightly Tribulation was carried out was too wasteful for Po Yeong-ui, who knew the true nature of the Demonic Cult's power, to have planned.

The Demonic Cult had become an object of fear for the entire Central Plains after it turned to a path of absolute domination. They had overwhelming power, and the decisiveness to wield that power without hesitation wherever necessary.

If this had truly been the work of the Demonic Cult, the Hundred Ghosts' Nightly Tribulation, considering their reputation, should have been carried out more ostentatiously and grandly. Rather than wasting their strength on hitting minor clans that were of little help to the overall Jianghu situation, they would have concentrated their power to bring down one of the Nine Great Sects and used the enormous repercussions to gain a strategic advantage. At least, that was what Cheonma had personally taught Po Yeong-ui.

On the other hand, their meticulous methods made it impossible to suspect the Wusheng Cult, a ragtag group of misfits, as the masterminds behind the Hundred Ghosts' Nightly Tribulation.

The Wusheng Cult was originally composed of highly individualistic villains, and after consuming Blood Tear Pills and other demonic elixirs, their instincts had become even more rampant, making them capable of following basic orders but incapable of executing tasks perfectly. This was evident from the incident at Dongting Lake and what the Violating Ghost had tried to do to Munpyeong.

They must have known this themselves, which is why they sent their own masters to Mount Dabie instead of the villains of the Wusheng Cult. Cheonma, who had faced each of their forces, knew well that a hastily assembled group like the Wusheng Cult lacked the ability to carry out such a task.

That left only the Righteous Path Alliance. Only they could gain the benefit of uniting other forces under their banner by striking at comparable powers, and only they could be so meticulous.

“It seems the Righteous Path Alliance learned a great deal from the Tang Clan incident. To have carried out so many bloody calamities without leaving any mistakes other than being too perfect.”

As he said this, Cheonma’s cool smile faded, and he cast his gaze behind Munpyeong. His already calm voice dropped another notch. He spoke to someone in a quiet, whispering tone.

“Do you understand? Sometimes, being too perfect can also be a mistake. And you are not even complete yet. I don’t know what you’re relying on to think you can deceive my eyes. Are you testing me, or are you testing yourself?”

Munpyeong, who had been completely unaware of anyone nearby, jumped in surprise and turned around. Even with his perception, which had become twice as sharp since reaching the peak stage, he hadn't noticed anyone else’s presence, so he was genuinely startled by Cheonma’s attitude of speaking to someone behind him.

Sure enough, as soon as Cheonma’s words fell, a human figure rose from the shadows. It was clearly a type of martial art, but the sight was like a magic trick.

A dark shadow stretched out and a dark form rose, its opaque shape gradually transforming into that of a person. Dressed in simple black clothes with arm guards for mobility, he looked no different from the other Shadow Demons, except for the fact that he was not wearing a mask.

Munpyeong had no trouble recognizing the pale face, which stood out even more because of the all-black attire. The person who had approached as stealthily as an assassin was someone familiar to Munpyeong.

“Forgive me, Master. I was curious if it was really you, so I took the liberty of confirming. It could have been Gwak Hyo in your form again, after all.”

Munpyeong didn’t know, but the Shadow Demon Corps’ Hidden Form Stealth Technique was a unique martial art that incorporated a slight element of sorcery, unlike other stealth techniques. It was so exquisite that unless one was a user of Cheonma’s own ultimate art, even a great master could not detect their presence, making it very useful for both guarding and assassination.

Cheonma offered a cold smile at his disciple’s excuse. It was a smile of a different temperature from the one he had just shown Munpyeong, so frosty it seemed it could freeze the person before him into ice.

“And so you revealed your killing intent? And not at me, but at him?”

Cheonma had sensed Gwak Jin-mu’s presence from the moment he had caught up to them. He had not only seen him immediately conceal his form upon spotting him, but had also clearly confirmed that he was secretly following them like a spy.

Curious about his suspicious disciple’s intentions, Cheonma had led him to a secluded place. But even when all other eyes were gone, he did not reveal himself. Instead, he concealed his presence even more stealthily, approached Munpyeong, and even feigned an attempt to harm him.

Cheonma couldn’t understand what this thoughtless disciple was thinking, provoking him like this. As he saw it, the story about Gwak Hyo was purely an excuse.

If Gwak Jin-mu had been foolish enough to think that his master had strayed from the path for no reason and climbed a terrace with a wide-open view all around, Cheonma would not have taken him in. Among the four disciples, all of whom were geniuses among geniuses, the most intelligent was not Po Yeong-ui, but Gwak Jin-mu.

He was not only intelligent but also talented, and his constitution was outstanding among the four. If he had possessed a suitable disposition, it might have been this young man, not Ho Wan-pyeong, who would have inherited the Demonic Cult.

“That was the most accurate way to confirm if my master was truly my master. If it were Gwak Hyo, he truly would not have noticed me, but if it was you, Master, it would mean you knew everything and were just pretending not to. In that situation, I had no choice but to wait until you revealed yourself. It was a painful stratagem I came up with after much thought, so please consider the circumstances and forgive me.”

Gwak Jin-mu bowed his head with a more formal attitude than his usual plain speech. But just because his words were formal didn't mean their content was proper. Cheonma read the intended sarcasm in Gwak Jin-mu’s words loud and clear.

Exasperated, he laughed lowly and looked down at his disciple. This was like the saying, “pamper a child, and he’ll pull his grandfather’s beard.”

`Are you interrogating me now? Are you asking me to explain my actions?`

“Kneel.”

A cold command fell from Cheonma’s lips. At the same time, the floor of the terrace creaked, making an unpleasant sound.

Gwak Jin-mu let out a low groan under the crushing pressure of a thousand pounds from above. It felt as if the surrounding air had turned to iron, as a terrifyingly strong pressure bore down on his spine.

Knowing that the pressure was the internal energy unleashed by Cheonma, Gwak Jin-mu gathered his own internal energy to resist. But even the internal energy of a transcendent master could not withstand Cheonma’s overwhelming power.

Before long, Gwak Jin-mu’s knees began to buckle. His shoulders slumped along with his knees. Cold sweat poured down his body like rain, and his blood vessels dilated, turning his entire face red.

He resisted to the end out of pride, but it was useless. There was no way he could win against an opponent who, while pressing down on his shoulders with the weight of a thousand pounds, had the leisure to lay down a barrier of energy to prevent the weak wooden floor from collapsing under the force.

His knees buckled, one after the other. His stiffly held head dropped, and he braced himself with both arms on the floor to avoid a full prostration, but even that was difficult to bear.

Just as Cheonma intended, Gwak Jin-mu slammed his head on the floor as if performing a kowtow. Only after forcing him to his knees did Cheonma, seemingly satisfied, slowly withdraw the crushing internal energy.

“If you truly want to ask for forgiveness, then kneel properly. Just flapping your lips doesn’t make it an apology. If you want to ask someone for forgiveness, you should at least have the proper form.”

As long as his disciples stayed within the lines, Cheonma was lenient, but when they crossed those lines, he was more merciless than an enemy. His heartlessness, which cared nothing for the other’s pride once he was crossed, did not change much just because the opponent was Gwak Jin-mu.

Gwak Jin-mu, dripping sweat onto the wooden floor, twisted his lips. He understood perfectly well why Cheonma was so angry.

Cheonma was not angry because he had been impertinent to him, as he himself had said. He had not forgiven him because he had shown killing intent towards Munpyeong. As proof, the direction Gwak Jin-mu was forced to bow his head was not towards Cheonma, but towards Munpyeong.

By subtly using the pressure on his head to make him turn his body, Cheonma had decided the direction Gwak Jin-mu would kneel, thereby clearly indicating who truly deserved the apology.

“I am sorry, Master. Please forgive me. Your disciple dared to test his master.”

“Don’t you think you’re asking the wrong person for forgiveness? The one you should truly be asking for forgiveness is not me, but that boy.”

“…I have to ask for forgiveness? From him?”

“Was it my life you were aiming for?”

Gwak Jin-mu, who had been forced to press his head to the floor, lifted his head to look up at Munpyeong.

Unintentionally, Munpyeong, who had one of the Four Grand Devils of the Central Cult kneeling at his feet, turned to Cheonma with a pale face. But Cheonma seemed not to notice Munpyeong’s reaction. He still had an icy, cold face as he urged the other to apologize.

`Why is this person overreacting like this?`

Munpyeong was truly frightened by Cheonma’s sudden behavior. Hearing that his life had been targeted sent a chill down his spine, but since he hadn't even known it was happening and had suffered no harm, it wasn’t something to make such a big deal about.

If Gwak Jin-mu’s excuse was true, his reasons were not incomprehensible, but to treat him like this, as if interrogating an enemy, was going too far.

But this was a matter between a master and a disciple, and Munpyeong, who officially had no position, was not in a place to rashly interfere. He fidgeted anxiously, then belatedly realized he was standing in the direction Gwak Jin-mu was bowing and moved to avoid receiving the bow.

“Seeing you avoid the bow, it seems your best effort has not yet reached his heart. Bow your head again.”

Seeing this, Cheonma made Gwak Jin-mu’s forehead touch the floor again. At that violent gesture, Munpyeong turned completely white.

He didn't know why the person who had seemed to be in a perfectly fine mood just a moment ago had changed so suddenly. This overly grand situation, rather than making Munpyeong feel better, made his knees tremble.

`Should I say I’m okay now? Or is there some other hidden story between them that I don’t know about?`

Munpyeong’s mind, which was in a state of confusion about how to react, felt like it was about to explode.

“Y-you don’t have to go that far. I’m really okay.”

Thinking he was going to kill someone at this rate, Munpyeong hurriedly tried to stop Cheonma. In fact, what was more concerning than the other’s well-being was the intense resentment Gwak Jin-mu would feel towards him because of this incident.

Of course, he had no intention of making things like this and had never wanted this situation, but it seemed unlikely that the humiliated Gwak Jin-mu would graciously understand that fact. It was easier to hate the male concubine who was riding on his master’s coattails than to resent the master himself, who was an absolute master. Just thinking about how Gwak Jin-mu would treat him in the future made Munpyeong’s hair stand on end and his palms sweat.

There was a saying in the Jianghu: "If the Calamity Sword is your enemy, even regret won't be your friend." That man was Gwak Jin-mu, and to have unintentionally inflicted such a terrible humiliation on him meant that he probably wouldn't be able to sleep comfortably from tonight.

“To make such a scene, that man must be truly important to you, Master.”

Gwak Jin-mu did not offer the apology he was supposed to, but muttered in a suppressed, choked voice. His voice sounded muffled as if his head were being pressed down, but there was no sign of anger. Instead, his attitude was so calm as to feel meaningful.

When Cheonma released the pressure on his head, he looked up at him. His face, flushed from resisting Cheonma’s power, was so red it looked like blood would seep out at any moment. Even redder than his face were his eyes. His pupils were blazing, as if they would spew fire at any moment.

“I had suspected it from the incident at Mount Bulyun, but you truly do hold that man dear, Master. To think of him before this disciple, before Gwak Hyo, and even before the great tide of the world.”

The hidden sarcasm had now become overt. Gwak Jin-mu, as if he had made up his mind, cynically mocked Cheonma’s actions. A tense atmosphere began to form between Cheonma and Gwak Jin-mu.

`What is wrong with those two?`

The one he had the best relationship with among the disciples was this second disciple. It looked like a sword fight was about to break out between master and disciple, and Munpyeong’s heart was pounding with anxiety as he watched.

Even to Munpyeong’s eyes, it was clear that Gwak Jin-mu was unilaterally picking a fight. Cheonma, who was petty and held grudges, was not the type to easily forgive. There was no rule that he would make an exception for a disciple. Gwak Jin-mu couldn't be unaware of his master’s personality, so why was he acting this way?

“Do you have something to say to me? If you do, say it clearly so I can understand. What is your complaint that you use it as an excuse to act so insolently? You don’t really want to die by my hand, do you?”

It seemed Munpyeong was not the only one with this question. Even Cheonma couldn't properly fathom the heart of his rebellious disciple.

He appeared easygoing and unpretentious on the outside, but in reality, Jin-mu was meticulous and cautious. He was a man who hid more than he revealed, so for him to act so recklessly, there had to be a reason. Of course, whether there was a reason or not, he had done something deserving of a beating, so he would be beaten very painfully, but depending on the reason, he was willing to adjust the number and intensity of the blows.

“Have you forgotten what kind of man Gwak Hyo is, Master? Have you also forgotten whose life was taken by Gwak Hyo’s hand?”

“I may be old, but I’m not senile yet. How could I forget that?”

“Then why did you do it? If you haven't forgotten, why did you choose that man over Gwak Hyo that day? The person he killed right before your eyes was Son Yeo-yeong. No, Hyeokryeon Yeo-yeong. That woman, who was my mother, was also your daughter.”

Gwak Jin-mu said this with an tone that sounded as if he were grinding his teeth. Munpyeong, who was listening beside him, was truly horrified.

`What, what, what, what did he say? Son Yeo-yeong was Cheonma’s daughter?`

It was as if he had been struck by lightning. His mind went blank. This was an even greater shock than when he had first entertained the theory of Baek Woo-gyeong being an illegitimate child.

He had claimed with his own mouth that he only favored men and had no children, and now he had a daughter? Munpyeong felt as if he had been scammed and turned to look at Cheonma. This damned old man had committed so many deeds in his life that no matter how much you dug, there was no end to his past stories.

“That child… my daughter? Who told you such a thing?”

Compared to Gwak Jin-mu, who was revealing a suppressed and bursting resentment, Cheonma’s expression was endlessly cold. His face, without a trace of emotion, was as impassive as his indifferent attitude. But Gwak Jin-mu, who had anticipated that Cheonma would deny it, did not get rashly excited by his attitude.

“My mother told me herself. She said she heard it from her adoptive grandfather, the one who took her in.”

“…Is that so? The Sixth Devil said such a thing.”

It seemed to be a family trait for a person who was usually tight-lipped to be loose-tongued only with their children. Son Gyu, who seemed like he would never speak, had told Son Yeo-yeong, and Son Yeo-yeong, who had sworn she would never tell anyone, had told her own child everything.

`Son Gyu, my friend. Yeo-yeong is definitely your daughter.`

Gwak Jin-mu’s bold statement brought back memories of a loyal subordinate who had died long ago. The grim face of his subordinate, who had insisted until the very end that Son Yeo-yeong was his daughter, flashed through his mind.

Not being able to confirm his friend’s final moments was still a great regret. He was not a man to go like that. Cheonma sighed deeply inwardly, lamenting the loss of a rare and true friendship in his life.

“You don’t have to feign ignorance like that; I know everything. My adoptive grandfather—that is, the Sixth Devil who took my mother in—confessed everything with great honesty. Thanks to him, my mother had to learn the shocking truth that her own mother was killed by her own father before she even turned fifteen. She also knew that her mother had raped you, her own father, for years, and that she had tried to get her hands on my father, your adopted son, by using her own existence as leverage. As if that weren’t enough, she even knew that you had sworn to kill your daughter if you ever found her.”

A faint trace of moisture appeared in Gwak Jin-mu’s voice as he spoke. His low, trembling tone clearly revealed the emotional turmoil he was experiencing. Feeling Cheonma’s silent gaze on him, Gwak Jin-mu gritted his teeth. Even if his life were to be cut short by Cheonma’s hand after revealing all his inner thoughts, he had to say what he had to say.

His mother had given her life for him. He couldn’t bear the fact that Cheonma was treating the death of the woman who had thrown away everything for him, the man who had abandoned her right after she was born and had done nothing for her, so trivially.

“Knowing all that, how could she not be a melancholic beauty? The constant sorrow in her heart was all because of you. Do you know how much she longed for you her entire life? If she had one wish, it was to call you, her biological father, ‘Father’ just once. But she passed away without ever achieving that wish. By the hands of her own husband, while shielding the father who had ignored her her entire life.”

The shocks didn't come one at a time. The words pouring out of Gwak Jin-mu’s mouth shocked Munpyeong even more than Cheonma.

`What? A child conceived through rape? And the one who committed such an atrocious act was his adoptive mother?`

The truths Gwak Jin-mu was spewing were one blow after another. Listening to his story, Munpyeong vaguely recalled a confession he had heard from Cheonma before.

Yes. He had definitely said something similar before. Cheonma, who had seriously replied that if being taken against one's will was unfair, one should build up strength and take revenge, had readily confessed that he himself had been raped in the past. It wasn't just once or twice, but had continued for years, and he had even added jokingly that it was when he was young and pretty.

But he had not revealed that the perpetrator was his own adoptive mother. Nor had he said that she had blackmailed him using the child as leverage.

`My god. Cheonma’s adoptive mother. Then the perpetrator was none other than Gam Gyo-ryeong, Cheonma’s master’s wife?`

As the scattered pieces of information came together, the whole picture was revealed.

The husband slaughters a child’s family and kidnaps him, and the wife, infatuated with the young boy’s beauty, rapes him and even bears his child to blackmail him. That damned couple, husband and wife, how could they be so disgustingly alike?

They were a couple who had died before Munpyeong was even born, but just thinking about them made his teeth grind. It was understandable that Cheonma couldn't bear it any longer and killed them. Who could tolerate such people?

Thinking about it again, the state of Cheonma’s temperament today was all due to the evil deeds committed by that couple.

“Master, no, Grandfather. I ask you truly. Can you still not forgive her? Even now, after she has given her life for you, is she not your child?”

“She is not my child, Gwak Jin-mu. She never was.”

“…Why? Is she so unforgivable? It was not my mother’s fault that she was born that way. My mother spent her whole life atoning for a sin that was not her own. Can’t you let her rest in peace now? Can’t you grant her one and only wish, even after her death?”

Gwak Jin-mu had expected this, but when it became a reality, he couldn't contain his rising anger. His vision momentarily went white and then cleared. He was so angry that he had momentarily lost consciousness.

`You… you are truly…!`

At Cheonma’s dogmatic attitude, which seemed impervious to any genuine feeling, Jin-mu trembled with rage and bit his lip. He bit it so hard that blood appeared, and his lip looked tattered, as if a piece of flesh would fall off at any moment.

Cheonma watched Gwak Jin-mu with an unreadable expression. A layer of shadow fell over his face like a curtain.

He was not an easy person to read to begin with, but Cheonma now seemed more like an inanimate object than a person. Standing still like stagnant water, he suddenly opened his mouth and muttered to himself.

“It was not the child’s sin to begin with, so I cannot forgive the child. I did not acknowledge her in life, so I cannot call her my child now.”

A ray of light returned to Cheonma’s deep, black eyes. He bent his knees and squatted down to meet Gwak Jin-mu’s gaze, who was prostrate on the floor.

The two, who were actually related by blood, and who, upon hearing the story, seemed to have some resemblance, faced each other so closely that their breaths could touch.

“I am the one who wants to ask, Jin-mu. Do you think I have the right? I made a vow to kill my own child in a moment of passion, and unable to break my own word, I lived my whole life bound by it. Such a man is that child’s father? Nonsense. I absolutely do not think so.”

He asked and answered himself, then smiled coldly. The smile was not only cold but also very self-deprecating. Just as he did when he mocked others, Cheonma was unhesitant even in mocking himself.

“Father is not a title that suits someone like me. Just as Gwak Hyo is not a father to you, I am not a father to that child. If Son Yeo-yeong has a father, it is Son Gyu, not me.”

Every position comes with its own responsibilities and duties. The position of a father was no exception. Cheonma, who was even stricter because of his own experiences, did not acknowledge himself as Son Yeo-yeong’s father.

The person who better deserved the title of Son Yeo-yeong’s father was not him, but Son Gyu. Son Gyu had given Son Yeo-yeong a new life and a name, and he had lived his entire life for that child until the day he died.

Hearing Cheonma’s answer, Gwak Jin-mu was so taken aback by the unexpected sincerity that he couldn't say anything. Cheonma was still denying that he was Son Yeo-yeong’s father, but his reason for denying it was completely different from what Gwak Jin-mu had believed.

The one whose qualification he questioned was not Son Yeo-yeong, but himself. He had directly stated that he could not claim to be her father because he himself did not have the qualification to be one.

Cheonma was a man who was as strict with himself as he was with others. His standards, which applied equally to himself and others, were absolute, and there was no room for flexibility that changed with the situation. If the reason had been something else, it might have been different, but if it was a matter of responsibility and qualification, there was no way his decision would change, no matter how much Jin-mu pleaded.

To see him, who was always so confident and overflowing with an almost arrogant spirit, show a self-deprecating side—Jin-mu, who was witnessing a sight that no one would have ever imagined, looked up at Cheonma with a look of astonishment, almost as if he were in a daze.

“…Then why did you let Gwak Hyo go? Even if you have decided that you cannot be my mother’s father, you still have a debt to her.”

“If there is one thing I learned from your mother’s case, it is that it is too late for regrets after you’ve already lost something. If there is something you must truly protect, you must never let it go. What could be more useless than a late lament?”

Hearing this, Gwak Jin-mu looked at Munpyeong with a puzzled expression. Having been hit with one shocking revelation after another, he was not only confused but also couldn’t understand, and he scanned Munpyeong from head to toe, his feelings unconcealed.

`What is this situation now?`

Munpyeong felt a great sense of pressure under Gwak Jin-mu’s gaze, which was examining him as if he were a cow at a market, and he barely managed to maintain a composed expression.

`Just for that?`

Gwak Jin-mu’s expression was practically saying as much as he glared at Munpyeong. Disbelief filled his face as if he thought this was not right, even by a rough estimate.

Angered, he boldly raised an objection to Cheonma’s words. It seemed he had decided to die once and was now determined to push through to the end, disregarding his life with single-minded purpose.

“Are you asking me to believe that now? That someone like you, Master, has become sincere with a mere fellow like that?”

Gwak Jin-mu openly rebelled, thinking that Cheonma was clearly trying to gloss over his actions.

If he had thought a little more deeply, he would have realized that there was no reason for Cheonma to gloss over his actions, but Gwak Jin-mu, who had never thought of Munpyeong as anything more than Cheonma’s male concubine, ended up digging a grave he didn't need to dig.

“…What did you just say?”

The temperature in Cheonma’s voice, which had become somewhat gentler, suddenly plummeted. It was a change so obvious that even the slow-witted Munpyeong could see it, so there was no way Gwak Jin-mu, who was second to none in intelligence, could have missed it.

Jin-mu looked at Cheonma with a stunned expression, his face having changed instantly at the single phrase he had uttered. Cheonma looked deep into his eyes and questioned him sharply, as if threatening him.

“That sort of? Fellow? To a person I have personally called my own, are you now speaking down to him?”

It was a trivial matter, if you could call it that, but Cheonma’s reaction was overly sensitive. Even when Gwak Hyo had first taunted him and attacked him, he hadn't shown such a sharp edge, but now, with just one phrase, he was glaring as if he would kill him. Gwak Jin-mu, who had been caught off guard, felt his hair stand on end.

The angered Heavenly Demon flicked his robes and stood up from his seated position. The change from a squatting position where he had met his eyes to a stance where he was looking down on him was overwhelmingly intimidating. Looking up at the tall man from a position that was almost like lying on the floor, he felt suffocated just by meeting his gaze.

`I’ve made a mistake.`

Gwak Jin-mu, with his quick intuition, immediately realized that he had stepped on a landmine. Cheonma truly seemed to have taken this ordinary man into his heart.

In terms of his standing in the Jianghu and his position in the cult, Cheonma was a person who should never act carelessly. His personal actions could shake up the hierarchy and even change the entire system of authority, so he had to be extremely cautious even when making small decisions.

Cheonma, who could not be unaware of such principles, had personally used the expression "my person" for Munpyeong. And on top of that, he had even made it clear that his disciple Gwak Jin-mu was a subordinate, which was no different from a threat to treat that man as his own inner-circle partner.

`I can’t believe this…`

Cheonma had had countless male concubines before, but none of them had ever received such treatment. Even those who were far more beautiful and charming than this man were just bed partners to Cheonma, not objects of affection. What special talent did this man possess to be treated so differently?

Gwak Jin-mu, unable to easily adapt to this unprecedented situation, hastily lowered his eyes to hide his disrespectful expression. His quick mind spun desperately to grasp the situation.

`Could it be that I have been under a completely wrong impression all this time? Perhaps the Master did not prioritize the well-being of a mere male concubine over the death of my mother. On the contrary, it could be that this man’s existence was so important to the Master that even Gwak Hyo was invisible to him!`

A belated realization struck him. He had only reversed the order of the sentences, but if that were true, the incident at Mount Bulyun was also perfectly understandable. The current situation could be summed up in one sentence.

`Cheonma is blind with love.`

It was a chillingly creepy definition, but also a perfectly accurate expression. The fact that a man as cold-blooded as Cheonma had made a decision based on emotion rather than objective judgment was proof of how serious his condition was.

Throughout history, there has never been a more blind lover than a king in love. Were the phrases "femme fatale" and "a beauty that could topple a city with a single glance" born for no reason?

A king in love would tear silk to hear a beauty’s laughter and light a beacon in the mountains just to see her smile one more time. Of course, a seasoned man like Cheonma would not become so irresponsible, but the fact that he was cherishing a young concubine he had acquired late in life like a precious treasure was clear enough from his current behavior.

“Your reckless behavior must mean you are confident in taking responsibility for your actions. Tell me. Why should I forgive you?”

Cheonma was not originally a person who cared much for etiquette, but even he could not let today’s incident slide. Gwak Jin-mu’s actions had gone too far.

No matter how informal their relationship was, he was the master and Jin-mu was the disciple. If he had something to ask, he should have approached him respectfully and retreated with courtesy. But what was this, with the stalking, the feigned assassination attempt, and even the disrespect to a superior?

Cheonma let out a murderous aura and pressed Gwak Jin-mu. To him, who had denied being Son Yeo-yeong’s father, Gwak Jin-mu was not a grandson but merely a disciple. And even if he considered Jin-mu a true grandson, Cheonma was not generous enough to tolerate such insolent behavior.

Jin-mu, not wanting to use his mother as an excuse for his own safety, quickly racked his brain instead of making excuses.

It was shameless to expect to get away with offending Cheonma so much, but Jin-mu did not want to be hurt by his master’s hand.

In these chaotic times, every single master was precious, and to lose his fighting ability at the hands of his master, not an enemy, was unthinkable. He still had a debt to repay to Gwak Hyo. For that, he needed his limbs to be intact more than anything else.

“If what you say is true, Master, then it seems I should not be asking you for forgiveness. Was it not my lady, not my master, that I truly offended? I finally understand what you said at first. I really did direct my apology to the wrong person.”

`M-my lady?`

Cold sweat ran down Munpyeong’s back. He prayed and prayed that he was not the one being addressed, but Gwak Jin-mu’s gaze was fixed squarely on him.

Though not a full kowtow, he straightened his posture respectfully and bowed his head, not because of Cheonma’s coercion, but of his own will. Munpyeong wanted to avoid that position again, but in this situation, not accepting the bow would be interpreted as not forgiving him, so he was stuck.

To Munpyeong, who was hesitating and unable to respond, Gwak Jin-mu repeatedly asked for forgiveness. Unlike just a moment ago when he had spoken down to him without hesitation, his tone was now so high as to be almost extremely honorific.

“I have unintentionally committed a great offense against my lady. Though I acted in ignorance, that cannot be an excuse. Though this disciple may be unworthy, I am not a scoundrel, but a momentary mistake almost led me to commit a terrible act of patricide.

Please forgive my insolent behavior, my lady. I will carve this incident into my bones and never make the same mistake again.”

Munpyeong was so embarrassed by Gwak Jin-mu, who kept calling him "my lady" at the end of every sentence. How could he be so brazen as to call him, a man, that, even if he were a woman…?

Munpyeong gestured with his eyes to Cheonma, asking him to do something about this situation. But Cheonma, who seemed to be watching to see what his disciple would do, stood with his arms crossed and didn't move an inch. His frozen face, as if the storm in his heart had not yet subsided, was as cold as an icicle. An ice sculpture would not exude such a chill.

Faced with a dilemma, Munpyeong was truly at a loss. Gwak Jin-mu seemed determined not to get up until he was forgiven, and he kept his head bowed deeply. He was Cheonma’s disciple and grandson, and to Munpyeong, he was a person of a much higher station.

Munpyeong glanced at Cheonma. Cheonma was staring down at the back of Gwak Jin-mu’s head with the attitude of a snake eyeing its prey.

Just by looking at his eyes, he could tell that he was firmly determined. In his calmly gleaming eyes, it was hard to find any soft emotions like forgiveness or mercy. Only a terrifying resolve to show him a great lesson if he was caught on any pretext was shining.

There was no other way to stop Cheonma, who would do what he said he would do. If Munpyeong did not forgive him, Cheonma would find some excuse to inflict a great punishment on the disrespectful Gwak Jin-mu.

Munpyeong, who was dizzy at the reality of having to act as the superior to the Calamity Sword, barely gathered his wits and spoke to Gwak Jin-mu. As he spoke with too much care, the first word he uttered was completely garbled.

“Pa- ahem. The word ‘patricide’ and so on is not appropriate. I am not a person who deserves such extreme courtesy, so please rise from your seat first.”

Embarrassed, Munpyeong cleared his throat to steady his voice and continued to speak haltingly.

“What are you saying? My lady is the one whom our master has personally declared as his own. A master’s every word is like gold. The affirmation of the number one person in the world is in itself a promise. Even a common warrior of the Jianghu would respect that intention, so how could I, a disciple of our master, dare to go against it?”

To Munpyeong, who seemed not to have accurately grasped his own position yet, Gwak Jin-mu asked back in a serious tone.

Cheonma, who could not be unaware that the true intention of the words directed at Munpyeong was flattery towards himself, just snorted coldly.

`Hmph. You sly bastard. Have you finally figured out where your survival lies?`

Cheonma was amused by his disciple’s cunning behavior, even though he had partly driven him to it.

If he was going to be like this anyway, he should have acted on his own accord from the start. Why did he have to be so clueless and defiant, only to end up in this mess? If Gwak Jin-mu hadn't stepped forward, he wouldn't have been made an example of.

In fact, Cheonma had already marked Po Yeong-ui as the one to be made an example of for his subordinates. The grudge-holding Heavenly Demon had still not forgotten that he had humiliated Munpyeong.

“Ah, no. That’s…”

“If what you are saying is an indirect criticism of my failure to fulfill my duties as a subordinate, then I apologize. Your disciple did not understand correctly.”

Gwak Jin-mu, muttering as if he were serious, bowed his head deeply once more.

As Gwak Jin-mu’s forehead touched the floor, Munpyeong’s heart tightened. It felt like the more he spoke, the deeper he fell into a quagmire. Indeed, blood is thicker than water. How could this man’s way of speaking be so similar to Cheonma’s?

Gwak Jin-mu, too, was very skilled at using casually thrown words to trap his opponent. Despite being very familiar with the method, Munpyeong, who had fallen for it completely, sighed deeply and shook his head.

`Well, what can you expect from this family’s bloodline? That stubborn Heavenly Demon’s blood isn't going anywhere.`

Munpyeong glanced at Cheonma. Cheonma was still watching with his arms crossed to see what decision Munpyeong would make, and Gwak Jin-mu was waiting for his decision without raising his head.

With two masters staring at his lips, he felt as if he had become a judge of life and death. It was a tremendous rise in status, if you could call it that, but Munpyeong did not welcome this situation at all.

“Raise your head. It’s not something to apologize for so much, absolutely not…”

Munpyeong, who was about to say it was no big deal and it was okay, flinched at Cheonma’s gaze, which shot down like a flash of lightning.

`Ah, I get it. My mistake.`

Munpyeong, who had reached a point where he could exchange intentions with just a look, felt genuinely intimidated by Cheonma’s gaze, which seemed to ask, "You were threatened with your life, and it's no big deal? Do you really want to experience a big deal?" Cheonma, who was merciless even to his disciples, was unlikely to make an exception for him.

His spine chilled, Munpyeong quickly corrected what he was about to say.

“…Of course, you were clearly in the wrong, but since you are reflecting so deeply, it is difficult to press the matter further. Especially if it was done in ignorance. How can a person live in this world without making a single mistake? As long as you don’t make the same mistake in the future, it will be fine.”

It was a platitude uttered to somehow resolve the situation, but the words "don’t make the same mistake" contained a hint of sincerity.

Gwak Jin-mu, who had been bowing his head, gave a long salute as if he were deeply moved. Munpyeong, feeling embarrassed, returned the salute and accepted his greeting.

Unlike Munpyeong, who was only focused on getting through the situation with a temporary measure, Gwak Jin-mu knew exactly what had just happened. He had treated Munpyeong as a superior, and the other had accepted that treatment and forgiven him. So now, the relationship between the two had officially become that of a superior and a subordinate.

They were not the only ones here; other Shadow Demons were also present, though they had not revealed themselves. The eyes and ears of those who had witnessed everything were the most certain proof of this relationship. Having set such a decisive precedent, it was now a foregone conclusion that Jin-mu would serve Munpyeong as his lady. Gwak Jin-mu only then realized that he had been played by Cheonma.

`Damn. So he was using me as an example. It’s certainly a method worthy of my master.`

Cheonma had used his rash provocation very appropriately. Gwak Jin-mu, realizing this belatedly, let out a bitter smile and stood up.

He was no match for his master. Even he, who prided himself on being as cunning as anyone, found it difficult to guess the intentions of Cheonma, who moved from high above him. What could be said of others?

To Jin-mu, Munpyeong, who seemed unaware of his own destiny, as if he were the only one who didn't know what was obvious to others, seemed pitiful. Seeing Cheonma’s current behavior, it seemed he would never let him go, even in a lifetime.

His actions and attitude didn't suggest a particularly brilliant person, and thinking about how he would be manipulated at will in Cheonma’s hands made even Jin-mu, who had no relationship with him, feel a pang of pity.

“You’ve chosen a good person to cling to. It’s certainly easier to cling to that thoughtless, easygoing man than to me. Since the person concerned has forgiven you, it can’t be helped, but you should take your own words to heart. A mistake can be made once, but not twice.”

Cheonma chimed in, clicking his tongue as if he were displeased. Munpyeong looked at Cheonma with a troubled expression, but Jin-mu saw right through his attitude, knowing it was all an act.

Perhaps Cheonma had forcibly made him kneel from the beginning to create this situation. The smell of a long-held plan wafted from him, deepening Jin-mu’s suspicions.

“By the way, Master, time is of the essence. When do you plan to return to the Cult?”

But even if he was such a person, he was still Cheonma. His presence had an absolute effect on morale, regardless of his actual combat power.

Gwak Jin-mu, who was displeased with the current situation where they had to resort to a painful stratagem because their absolute weapon was absent, felt a strong sense of duty to send Cheonma, whom he had found, back to the Cult.

It wasn't that the Cult lacked enlightened masters, but in Gwak Jin-mu’s opinion, Cheonma was the only one who could face Gwak Hyo. Not only his martial power and strategy, but also his long years of experience and wisdom would be of no small help, and he couldn't just let such a valuable asset go sightseeing at famous landmarks.

“I have no intention of returning right now.”

Cheonma replied casually, as if he didn't know his disciple’s anxious heart. Jin-mu, who had believed that returning was the natural course of action now that he had been found, was genuinely surprised by his answer.

“What? Why?”

“You should look before you leap. If I remain in the Cult, will Wan-pyeong ever be able to find his place? He needs time to establish himself. If I am in the Cult at a time like this, it will only disrupt the center.”

“I understand what you are worried about, Master. I understand completely. But the current situation is not so leisurely as to allow for such luxury. You know how the world is turning, don’t you, Master? We need all the power we can muster to resolve this situation. Please, return to the Demonic Cult, Master.”

Gwak Jin-mu pleaded earnestly, but his entreaty did not easily sway Cheonma. Cheonma, who had had a plan in mind since he left Cheonma’s private library, smiled coldly and shook his head.

“In addition, I have something to confirm. This is an opportunity to see if my own judgment in choosing a successor was right or wrong. With me gone, they will finally be able to show their true abilities. In these chaotic times, their caliber will be revealed even more clearly. How could I pass up such a good opportunity? Do you think you could, Jin-mu?”

It seemed Cheonma was willing to use even this extreme chaos in the world for the sake of his succession plan. With him answering like that, Jin-mu had nothing more to say.

If Cheonma’s will was firm, it was impossible for Gwak Jin-mu to move him. Seeing Cheonma’s calm attitude despite the bad situation, he might have something else in mind.

“Master…”

“The time is ripening. Sometimes, a wound needs to fester to heal cleanly. Once all the things that have been festering burst, the decisive battle will finally begin. Do not move rashly, but watch the situation. The opportunity will surely come soon.”

Fortunately, the way the Demonic Cult had been moving so far did not seem too lacking in Cheonma’s eyes. Their steps were more cautious than when he was around, but they had never suffered a loss, and the way they were steadily gaining practical benefits without showing off hinted at the solid nature of the two.

Because of the Demonic Cult’s solid movements, the means Gwak Hyo was using, though flashy on the outside, lacked substance. As they held their ground firmly and did not waver at any provocation, the enemy’s strategy of dragging the situation into a war of attrition was not working properly.

It was unlikely that even the Righteous Path Alliance wanted the current chaos to get out of control. To bring it under control at an appropriate level, the bloody calamity of the Hundred Ghosts' Nightly Tribulation had to end soon. Though they had achieved their intended unity, their actual strength had decreased, leaving the Righteous Path Alliance with only one option. Cheonma traveling the world without hiding his true identity was also another means of psychologically pressuring Gwak Hyo.

“I won’t be absent at the crucial moment, so there’s no need to worry. Go back. But you must not mention to anyone that you found me here. Not just you, Jin-mu, but all of you as well. You must not speak of me, even if it is to Wan-pyeong. Do you understand?”

Cheonma commanded, his sharp gaze sweeping over the hidden presences of the Shadow Demons. Though he didn't show it, Cheonma’s inner heart was filled with killing intent as he looked at the shadows.

Among them, there must be the one who had left a handprint on Munpyeong’s neck. Though Munpyeong had long forgotten, Cheonma had absolutely not.

Half the reason he had made Gwak Jin-mu an example was because of those Shadow Demons. The first thing that came to Cheonma’s mind when he realized that the Shadow Demons were positioned around Gwak Jin-mu was the dark handprint left on Munpyeong’s neck after he had been treated roughly.

If it were up to him, he would have liked to single out that bastard and teach him a lesson, but he was such a low-ranking subordinate that it was awkward to deal with him directly. Thanks to that, the innocent Gwak Jin-mu had taken the blame, but since the Shadow Demons had been thoroughly warned by this incident, Cheonma’s anger had been half-assuaged.

`Still, I can’t let that go with just this. I’ll have to ask casually later. Who on earth was the scoundrel who did such a thing.`

The Shadow Demons, unaware of the thoughts with which Cheonma was looking at them, released their Hidden Form Stealth Technique and rose to bow deeply. Cheonma, imprinting each of their auras in his mind, waved his hand to dismiss their greeting.

“You may withdraw.”

At his command, the figures of the Shadow Demons melted into the air again. Gwak Jin-mu, who had stepped back, also activated his Hidden Form Stealth Technique.

Miraculously, as he circulated his martial art, his form began to blur from the feet up. He first bowed respectfully to Cheonma, then to Munpyeong, before disappearing into the shadows.

“Master, my lady. Then this disciple will take his leave. I pray that you both remain in good health until we meet again.”

Munpyeong’s jaw dropped at being treated as a couple with Cheonma. Not only was he treated as a couple, but he was also treated as a revered elderly couple at the same time.

Before he could protest, Gwak Jin-mu vanished into thin air. Munpyeong, who had learned the ancient Heavenly Demon’s ultimate art, not Hyeokryeon Sang’s, could not figure out where he had disappeared to.

`Why do things keep becoming established facts? I never said I wanted to live with this person!`

The last words Gwak Jin-mu had left behind weighed on Munpyeong’s mind, and he felt his breath catch as if a stone had been placed on his chest.

He himself was aware that there was an unexpected progress between him and Cheonma, but every time something happened that nailed down their relationship, his heart sank. It was as if he knew he was lost but was continuing to go in the wrong direction.

He had no concrete plans for the future, but the reality that everything was being decided before he could even make a decision frightened him.

This situation, which forced his will, cast a considerable shadow over Munpyeong’s heart. He was helpless against the pressure that was subtly closing in on him from all sides.

He needed more time to understand his own heart, but Cheonma was pushing everything forward so quickly, as if he had no intention of giving him a choice. Because of this, Munpyeong had to feel a sense of pressure, as if he were being chased.

Even if he was clueless, he was not so foolish as to not know what Cheonma’s actions meant. Munpyeong knew clearly that Cheonma was demanding an answer. But he could not readily give him an answer. Because he himself did not know the answer.

`It’s not that I dislike this person. It’s certainly not that, but… This is so frustrating. I don’t know my own heart.`

Cheonma, having sent his disciple away and become idle again, sat nonchalantly on the railing of the terrace. Munpyeong watched him and let out a deep sigh. His mind was in a turmoil, and he had no time to sort it out. Cheonma did not leave him alone for a single moment, as if Munpyeong would disappear if he took his eyes off him for even a second.

“Why are you standing so far away? Come closer. Who said someone would eat you if you came closer?”

Cheonma, feigning ignorance after making him so agitated, beckoned to Munpyeong while looking down at the scenery outside. At his cheerful call, Munpyeong had no choice but to move towards him.

The wind from the Zhang River blew up the terrace and shook the hem of Cheonma’s clothes. His long hair flowed with the wind and touched Munpyeong’s cheek. The ticklish and smooth sensation was not unfamiliar at all. Munpyeong raised his hand to brush away the hair that was tickling his cheek.

Cheonma’s long hair wrapped around Munpyeong’s fingers. His healthy and beautiful hair shone with a silky luster. Munpyeong, who was quietly admiring the hair, looked up at Cheonma. Cheonma, as if he had been watching, reached out and pulled Munpyeong’s waist into his arms.

Munpyeong, who had been pulled between his legs, looked down at Cheonma, who was squeezing his knees to keep him from moving.

“You seem to like it, don’t you?”

Cheonma asked with amusement, having watched Munpyeong not let go of the hair he was holding even after coming closer, but instead reaching out to gather more strands. A smile formed in his beautiful eyes, turning them into pretty crescent moons.

`What kind of old man has such a charming eye-smile?`

At the bewitching smile that seemed to steal a man’s soul, Munpyeong smiled wryly and nodded.

“The texture is really soft. As you said before, it feels completely different from mine.”

“We were born different, so it can’t be helped.”

Cheonma often played with Munpyeong’s hair, but Munpyeong had rarely touched Cheonma’s hair. But Cheonma generously allowed Munpyeong to fiddle with his hair. In return, he sat Munpyeong on his lap and freely caressed his body.

“But why are you so docile today? I thought you disliked being touched outside.”

Cheonma, who had predicted that Munpyeong would put up a considerable fight even as he pulled him into his arms, asked him casually, surprised by his unexpectedly compliant reaction. Munpyeong smiled faintly at his question. He thought it was strange to ask such an obvious thing.

“Because I know there’s no one to see us. The Shadow Demons and the Calamity Sword have also left, so the only people nearby are the two of us, right? In that situation, I thought you wouldn't listen to me even if I said something.”

As he said, Cheonma’s methods had become even more cunning lately. As Munpyeong’s right to speak had grown stronger, Cheonma, unable to achieve his goals simply by browbeating him as before, had now changed his methods and was suppressing his complaints by fundamentally blocking any room for them. As Munpyeong grew stronger, Cheonma was also evolving.

At his words, Cheonma smiled again and cupped the back of Munpyeong’s neck with both hands, pressing his forehead against his own. His delicate nose, as if carved by a chisel, touched Munpyeong’s. His clear skin, where not even a pore could be felt, was softer than cotton.

“You really don’t know anything, do you?”

Cheonma whispered affectionately, rubbing the tip of his nose against Munpyeong’s.

`What is this person trying to say now?`

Munpyeong waited quietly for his words with a curious heart. Cheonma, who had slightly moved his lips to suck on Munpyeong’s lower lip, gently cupped Munpyeong’s cheeks with a gentle attitude.

“What a sad thing to say. I may not listen to other people’s words, but I will definitely listen to yours. Have I ever ignored something you truly wanted?”

Since that had actually happened more than once, Munpyeong quickly stated the facts as they were.

“You rarely listen when I say no. Even when I tell you to stop, you pretend not to know.”

“I told you, ‘truly.’ You often lie with your mouth, so sometimes I don’t listen to those words.”

Munpyeong, who had sometimes screamed for him to stop because he really felt like he was going to die from the pleasure, looked at him with a dumbfounded smile.

“Why? Does it seem like a lie?”

Cheonma gently tapped Munpyeong’s lips with his tongue to open them. As he stuck out his tongue and tapped between his lips, Munpyeong, as if trained, parted his lips and accepted him.

At times like this, Munpyeong was so lovely he wanted to eat him up. The way he opened his mouth inadvertently and then regretted it belatedly was cute, and his gasping breath, even as he flinched as if frightened, was so adorable it made him want to make him cry out.

“It’s true. Even if you don’t believe me, this is the truth. I can grant you anything you want.”

Cheonma whispered sweetly, even though he knew the other wouldn't believe him. He found this artless and simple lover in his arms truly lovely.

If Munpyeong were to truly beg, Cheonma was not confident he could refuse him. What man in the world could refuse the plea of a beloved lover? Especially a lover so young and with such a large age gap.

“However, that request must be made very delicately. It’s hard to know if you’re being sincere just by the words from your mouth, so you’ll have to persuade me in a more honest way. Fortunately, you have countless ways to persuade me. If there’s something you truly want, learn the knack. Just by properly mastering that knack, you can become an omnipotent being.”

Cheonma gave advice that was hard to tell if it was a joke or serious, and pulled Munpyeong deeper into his arms.

Though it sounded beautiful, the meaning was that if there was something he wanted, he should willingly engage in pillow talk. Munpyeong, realizing Cheonma’s intention, let out a hollow laugh.

`Well, I’ll be. Of course. I wondered what he was talking about.`

Cheonma’s lips covered his, which were twisted in disbelief. Munpyeong, who knew nothing, seemed to believe that Cheonma was talking nonsense, but in fact, Cheonma was conveying his true feelings as they were.

He really felt like he could do anything for Munpyeong if he wanted it. He too was steadily walking the path of a king in love becoming foolish.

But fortunately, the beauty who had bewitched Cheonma had no idea of the value of what he could do.

Though he could topple a city with a single smile and ruin a nation with a single wish, Munpyeong, who could only think of trivial wishes like ‘can you let me sleep alone for just one night?’, was a man of simple tastes.