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"If you DARE deceive me with your shit information, don't expect to be able to beg in the world ever again!"

Cheong Myeong's chatter to their favorite (?) beggar can still be heard without any signs of ending.

“How could I possibly sell false information to Mount Hua Divine Dragon!? I still have a brain??”

"Oh Really? I thought you had thrown it away along with your pride to still beg at that age.”

“Dojang-nim. This and that are different things. The beggar sect always prioritizes the truth above anything else.”

“AT LEAST SAY THAT IF WE DON'T WALK FOR 2 DAYS YOU BASTARD! AFTER ALL THIS IS DONE, I WILL MAKE YOUR MONEY BAGS DRY LIKE A DESERT!!"

“How can you say that to a beggar!?”

The bickering between the two people is still endless.

'Yeah, how can he say that to a beggar?' Tang Gunak 

Tang Gunak remained silent while following Cheong Myeong and Hong Dae Kwang who were leading the way, followed by Baek Cheon and his Sajil.

One week had passed since the information from the beggar sect reached the gates of Mount Hua Sect, and two days had passed since their departure from the Tang family residence.

That day, exactly the day after the celebration of the reopening of the Mount Hua Sect gate after more than 1000 days of bongmun (seclusion), Hong Dae Kwang came to Mount Hua bringing news about the activities of the Demonic Sect in the Sichuan area. 

Cheong Myeong, along with the five swords, and the monk were sent (with a heavy heart) by Hyung Jong to investigate the truth of the information regarding magyo activities in the Sichuan area. Because if that were true, then war might be undeniable.They had just finished dealing with the Evil Faction in Xi'an, but they were already running to Sichuan at full speed.

Tang Gunak, the head of the Tang family and Tang Pae volunteered to take part in the investigation, while Tang Zhan insisted on joining because he was still worried about Tang Soso, who was also taking part. Sichuan was a territory under the protection of the Tang family, and Magyo is not an opponent they can ignore. so it was not strange for the family to participate.

Even so…

Tang Gunak just wasn't used to the way the Mount Hua disciples led by Cheong Myeong traveled.

“Is there a problem, Lord Tang?” Baek Cheon, who was walking behind him, noticed the Lord sighing.

“No, it's just... I know Mount Hua Divine Dragon's character is very... unique. But I never imagined it would be like this.”

Now he understood why the appearance of Mount Hua's disciples dan his daughter was always so missereble every time they arrived at the Tang residence.

"But this time he's better than usual, right sahyung?" Jo Geol's words were immediately silenced by Yun Jong.

"Geol-ah, don't put mice in front of snake nests."

“it's jinx.”

Baek Cheon chuckled. “But we have to admit, he's more docile than usually. He also just shouted at Master Hong without beating him, I was moved.”

"Siju also didn't tell us to pull the cart." Hye Yeon added.

"There's nothing to pull, right?"

"We weren't beaten up either."

“He also didn't bring any alcohol.”

“Really, Cheong Myeong sahyung… is he gonna  die? People say a person's personality will change when their death is near." Soso's words made Tang Gun frown.

'What has your journey actually been like so far?'

"But Sajil ....he never let his guard down." Yu Iseol said calmly.

This time, the Tang family head nodded in agreement.

No matter how far they walked, no matter how talkative the brat mouth was, no matter how loud he cursed the people around him, Cheong Myeong never let go of his sword handle. It was as if he would always be ready to wield the dark plum blossomg sword at any enemy that might come at any time.

"WHY ARE YOU ALL TAKING SO LONG!? DRAG YOUR LEGS ALL OVER HERE BEFORE I CUT THEM OFF!" 

"We coming! jeez.."

"I should have brought a sack of mooncakes before we left."

"No. We shouldn't have brought him"

"I should have enroll at Shaolin instead of meeting that devil." 

"It's useless. I went to Shaolin but still met him."

"Ah..."

Their small conversation broke the silence of the dark forest.

An uneasy feeling had been coming over them ever since they entered the mountain.

But no one knew, that their arrival into this forest almost cost them everything they had.

*** 

But this ...

What actually went wrong after all this time?

Why did things turn out like this?

What part of their steps led them to this situation?

Baek Cheon doesn't know. All he knew right now was to draw his plum blossom sword at Magyo who was charging towards them like a mad dog.

Terror.

No other words could describe their current situation.

Approaching a steep gorge, without them realizing it, the small group that was initially only assigned to investigate was actually surrounded by magyo who came to confront them.

From a large cave, demonic qi energy radiated out as if to keep them from entering.

But Cheong Myeong, the person who hates Magyo more than anyone else in the world, rushes in killing all the Magyo his eyes can catch.

They went through 1000 days of horrific training from Cheong Myeong, to the point where they felt they were at the door of hell, but all of that turned out to be nothing compared to the terror that was before them now.

“Samae! Support Cheong Myeong form the Left! Yun Jong! Keep protecting Soso!” Baek Cheon shouted with his hoarse voice.

"um"

"yes sasuk!"

How long have they been fighting? Nobody knows. No one cared about how long or how many bodies were lying on the edge of this steep gorge, all they were thinking about was how to follow Cheong Myeong who were fighting on the front lines and then get out of this place alive.

'This crazy bastard!'

Baek Cheon could only see Cheong Myeong who seemed to have lost his mind since entering the cave. Their youngest's cold and dark eyes ruthlessly cut down everything that stood in his way. Not far from him, Tang Gunak assisted the crazy enemies who were trying to get closer again.

“Cheong myeong-ah!!” Baek Cheon shouted but was completely ignored by that monster. As if he was already in his own world. A terrible world that Baek Cheon doesn't know at all.

“kahahahahah!” The bishop's shrill laugh echoed in the blood-soaked cave.

"TOO LATE! YOU ARE ALL TOO LATE HAHAHAHAH!!”

"ugh.."

"Shit!"

“HEAVENLY DEMON IS BACK! MY LORD! MY MIGHTY GOD!”

A man's body lay on the altar covered by white funeral clothes. However, different from what they faced in the ice palace in the north, the ceremony had finished. The body on the altar had been breathing slowly like a living person in his slumber.

Is that really the heavenly demon that has always existed in legends?

No!

That can't happen!

Even if they were all killed here, they had to stop it!

“AARGGHHH!!”

The sound of Cheong myeong's screams echoed along with the plum blossoms petals  that hit like a storm.

BAAAMMM!!

SARARAARAKKKK!

As if hit by a hail of swords, the bishop's body was torn apart by hundreds of stabs. But that crazy bastard didn't care at all. His happiness in succeeding in reviving his master made him forget the pain caused by his own body.

Cheong Myeong, the only one in front slashed the bishop's body, opening a path for him to get to the body that was slowly rising in front of them.

He had to stop it.

Whatever happens, Cheong Myeong must cut off that head!

Even if it only stalled the time for the true awakening of the heavenly demon, he had to stop it!

But suddenly Tang Gunak stopped.

“I ..that!! impossible!!'

The mumble came from the head of Tang family. 

“Tang Zhishu!”

"What?" Cheong Myeong turned around, not understanding a single thing that Tang Lord saying.

"That body… that body.. there's no mistaking it!”

"What are you talking about!?"

“That body… he is Tang Zhushi, the child of the branch family who disappeared!”

"WHAT!?"

“There was a child from the branch family living in the tang residence and he—”

"THAT IS NOT IMPORTANT!"

“He disappeared two years ago and was declared dead! We thought he was dead!”

And the reality is here. The teenager who they thought been dead for a long time ago, turned out to be kidnapped by the demonic sect and made into an offering right before their eyes.

"How dare..."

HOW DARE YOU DAMN DOGS!

Not only did they try to reseruct the heavenly demon, they used the bodies of the Tang family as a vessel!??

This... 

“Hyung-nim…. my family... please take care of them"

This crazy ..

“Taoist hyung-nim! It's a promise!”

A promise he must keep no matter what happens.

From his one and only friend.

“YOU BASTAAAAARD!!”

Like thunder, Cheong Myeong struck all the magyo and priests who tried to stop him.

The power that threw everyone away was something they had never faced, even when Cheong Myeong faced Jang Ilso.

Anger, hatred, fear, revenge, and even despair, all of this was implied in every slash his sword drew. Nothing can stop it. Nobody can, not when Cheong Myeong's most hidden emotions finally spill out from the depths of her heart.

"Ch-cheong myeong-ah.."

“This brat..”

"Sajil.."

“Sahyung!”

Mount Hua's disciple could only be stunned by the power that broke out from his seal.

Srak!!

Shieeek!

Chaaak!

There were no other sounds apart from the screams of death and the continuously dancing swords. The fragrance of plum blossom that was now mixed with the strong smell of blood.

No one was able to speak until finally only Cheong Myeong with his sword were left standing among the countless corpses.

There was no one left. No, wait…

… there was one person.

A body of a teenager, perhaps in his teens stood right in front of the altar. His long hair and white funeral clothes clung to his slender body.

Tang zhushi.

Or should they call him the devil?

"You're the only one left."

Cheong myeong murmur was heard along with the sound of a sword being dragged against the ground.

“Go back to hell, you damn bastard. I have to take back the bodies of the Tang family.”

"If I behead you like before, you'll die again, right? Well, we can sew it up later for this child funeral anyway."

Shiiinngg!

The dark plum blossom sword stopped right at the teenager's neck, making a very small cut that dripped the fresh blood. 

Cheong Meyong's cold eyes could only stare at the teenager's body in front of him.

'I'm sorry, Tang Bo. But I'll end it quickly.'

That typical teenager's body was smaller than his 21 year old self in this life. The dark cave and the chaos didn't give him time to look carefully before, only then did he realize that the long brown hair of the young man in front of him was the same as his best friend's.

'They're too similar, dammit!'

The emerald green eyes that used to look at him from behind were now standing in front of him.

“Taoist… hyung-nim?”

Even that voice... Cheong Myong can still hear it so clearly. It was as if the real Tang Bo was really in front of him. But all these illusions...

“… hyung nim!!”

“….!?”

His consciousness, which was drowning in a deep lake of darkness, was suddenly pulled out when the teenager in front of him, who without caring about the sword that was ready to cut off his head, ran to hug his him until they both fell on the ground that soaked in blood.

“You.. are still alive...? Hyung-nim… I..”

'What's this?'

Cheong Myeong was unable to process what was happening.

What is really happened?

What is he doing?

Heavenly demon… no. This is not .... him?

There was not the slightest demonic qi energy from the body that was now embracing him.

There is no terrible sound came out of the lips that trembling with crying.

There was no freezing cold gaze from the green eyes that were now crying into his chest.

This voice… this face… this warmth..

Don't tell me …

Is that really you?

The only person who called him 'hyung' with affection in his voice.

The only person who stayed to fight alongside with him and trusted each other's backs.

The only friend he ever had

Is that really ...

A name that had almost never left his lips since returning to this world, but at the same time was the name of someone who had never left him.

Someone who was once a part of his life

His past.

His ...

“Tang –”

“GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

“CHEONG MYEONG!”

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU BASTARD!”

“PROTECT CHEONG MYEONG!”

"KILL!!"

The five swords that had been silent for some time now moved towards him with murderous eyes.

Aware of the murderous intent directed at him, the instinct of the person that was hugging him immediately moved to try to protect himself and Cheong Myeong at the same time.

A technique that Cheong Myeong has seen so often in his past life. The dagger technique that Tang Bo used when he detected enemy approaching when he and Cheong Myeong were in an off-guard position, was in the form of sharp qi energy that ready to be thrown towards the Mount Hua disciple who was running towards the two of them.

No!

Cheong Myeong's hands reflexively pulled the slender body back into his arms. Stopping the qi attack that was almost released but also protecting this teenager from the five swords that were ready to attack.

“!!?”

“Eh?”

“Huh!?”

Everyone stopped when they saw that Cheong Myeong actually protecting the enemy they were targeting.

“No… this..?” Even Tang Gunak who were about to pull the person with white funeral clothes stopped when Cheong Myeong put up a defensive stance. 

"No one move!" Cheong Myeong shouted stopping them all.

“Hyung—”

"You too! You bastard!”

“…”

No, what exactly is going on here!?? Why does Cheong Myeong protect that person?

Isn't he heavenly demon ...

Huh???!

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!???

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The only thing Tang Bo knew was that he was dead.

No, perhaps he should correct that. He WAS dead.

The feeling of dying was still as vivid as if it had happened yesterday. As the sword blow pierced his body, as the blood flowed from his wound, as his body slowly lost its strength, and as his vision... began to fade, replaced by darkness.

"...bo-ya! Tang Bo! Hang in there .... You .... Damn it!"

Between his dying breaths, Tang Bo could no longer hear the voice clearly.

In such a short time, yet it felt so long, Tang Bo seemed to see a reflection of everything that had happened in his life. From his normal childhood as a child of the ruling family, to his teenage years when he began to learn martial arts and the Tang family's poison, to his journey to enjoy life in the murim world, challenging strong people to test himself, to the turning point in his life when he met the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, to their endless battle against Magyo.

There are so many memories...

...and so many regrets.

He regretted being so weak.

He regretted not being able to stand up and fight back.

But compared to all that, his biggest regret was that he couldn't wipe away the tears that fell from the beautiful eyes that always blossomed like spring.

"...hyu...ng..n..im"

‘I am scared, Hyung-nim...’

For the first time in his life, after realising that death was knocking at the door, he was scared of death.

‘You are so careless with your own body, I am afraid that if I am not around, there will be no one to treat you for your injuries'.

‘You always charge forward, and sometimes forgetting your open back, I'm afraid someone will attack you from behind if I'm not there.’

‘You always fight alone, I'm afraid... so afraid... that you will really be alone in this hellish world.

It is so scary, Hyung-nim.

‘I don’t wanna leave’

‘I don't want to die...’

‘I want to live.’

‘I want to live.

I WANT TO LIVE!

But by the time he realised it, he had already sunk into endless darkness.

And at that moment... he knew that he was dead.

In such a silent place, without any light, without any warmth, he was finally alone.

There was no more pain, no more laughter, only his own loneliness in the endless abyss.

No one knew how long he had been there. A day? A month? A year? Ten years? Tang Bo was already dead, so this thing called time no longer mattered to him.

But suddenly, when he was at the point where he no longer felt himself. His consciousness was pulled by a powerful force. Like a fish hooked on a fishing rod, He was pulled out again and again. The pain he hadn’t felt for so long now devoured him until there was nothing left.

The blinding light was now going to swallow him whole.

And when he woke up, he could feel his body lying somewhere flat and rough.

His eyes blinked slowly, trying to adjust to the incoming light.

The first thing he noticed was that this place was so dark, with only the distant torchlight as a source of light, that it didn't take much for his vision to clear.

 Then the second thing... was the familiar smell of blood.

The sound of terrifying laughter followed by human screams echoed from all directions. Tang Bo, more than anyone else, immediately realised where he was.

This was the battlefield.

‘So... the war isn't over yet, huh?’

Tang Bo was dead, he was sure of it. There is no mistaking it.

He had no idea how he got back here or how much time had passed since his 'death'.

How was the war going?

Seeing the Magyo still roaming in front of him, it seemed that the Murim Alliance still had not managed to win the Great War.

What had happened to the front lines since his death?

There were so many things he didn't know.

But for now, there was one thing he had to do, no matter what.

‘Taoist Hyung Nim...’

He had to go back to him right away.

Was he still alive?

No, he had to be alive and well. In this Murim world, there was no one stronger than the Plum Blossom Sword Saint. So that bastard must still be alive out there.

Is he injured?

Is he still out there, fighting for life?

Tang Bo had to see it with his own eyes.

But then he noticed, the sounds of battle that had surrounded him had given way to silence.

Tap... tap... tap...

Shrieeeeng...

The sound of footsteps, followed by the sound of swords being dragged across the blood-stained floor, echoed through the dark cave. A man in a black military uniform slowly approached him. Tang Bo was unable to see the face of the owner of the blood-spattered sword, but he could hear the murmurs that were directed at him.

Finally, the man arrived right in front of him.

This man, he could confirm, was not a Magyo. He was from the Justice Faction. With long black hair pulled back like a young warrior, his well-built body exuded a murderous aura so intense it was almost unbearable. His large, wounded full hands were as steady as if he was used to killing.

Then Tang Bo saw it. With the sword pressed against his neck, he could finally see the face of the young man who was about to cut off his head.

"Taoist... Hyung-nim?"

The man did not flinch.

The Plum Blossom Sword Saint he knew had a large body, with a rough and cold impression, probably caused by the endless war. But the person before him looked slimmer, a little shorter, with a face that gave a slightly smoother impression. They were different, but at the same time, they looked so much the identical. Others might doubt that the man before her was the Sword Saint, but Tang Bo would not.

Because he knew him too well. How many times did he treat this warrior's body during the time they knew each other? He could probably name scar after scar on the Taoist's body. Therefore, the person in front of him with the slimmer body was definitely not the body of the Sword Saint.

But why? Why did his heart kept telling him that this person was his Hyung-nim? Why was he so sure? Was it because his hope that the Taoist was alive was so strong that it blocked out all the signs in front of his eyes?

And then the plum-blossom-coloured eyes met his own. The eyes that have always been as bright as the spring are now like the flowers that bloom on a cold winter's night.

‘Tang bo-ya’

Ah... why was he so stupid?

Why hadn't he realised it any sooner?

In this world, there was only one person who was able to stand up and defeat so many of the Magyo, and even the Bishops.

And it was him.

It was his Taoist hyung-nim.

"….Hyung-nim!"

Without thinking about the sword in his neck, Tang Bo ran with all his might to hug Cheong Myeong. Letting both of them fall to the ground covered in blood.

"You... are still alive...? Hyung-nim... I..."

He didn't care. The tears, which were already impossible to stop, flowed along with his trembling body. Nothing mattered to him anymore. Whether he had died and then come back to life, or whether the death he had seen was just an illusion, or whether it was just a long dream. The fact that Cheong Myeong was still alive in front of him was more than enough.

‘He's alive... He is still alive...’

The body he was holding felt so warm. He could even hear the heart beating fast. Was it his or Cheong Myeong's, or maybe both? Cheong Myeong's body was stiff and his rough hands were shaking.

"… Tang—"

--!!

At that moment, Tang Bo felt a killing intent aimed directly at him.

A group of young men, probably in their mid-twenties, ran towards them with their swords. He could not clearly hear what they were shouting, but he clearly heard...

"KILL!!!"

At that instant, his body and instincts reacted with lightning speed. He didn't have a dagger with him at the moment, but for someone at his level, even a pebble would be a deadly weapon if he used it right.

Tang Bo grabbed whatever he could get from the ground and was ready to blast it with his qi energy.

But something wrong.

‘Why is his body so weak?!’

But he didn't care. Friend or enemy, no one could hurt his Hyung-nim.

And as he was about to unleash his technique...

GREP!

His body was pulled back into the Taoist's arms. The people who were about to attack them stopped instantly, not even having time to hide their shocked faces.

--!!?"

"eh?"

"Huh!?"

Cheong Myeong tightened his embrace, as if trying to hide Tang Bo with his large body.

"No one move!!!" he shouted loudly.

"Hyung—!"

"You too! You bastard!"

"..."

Tang Bo was at a loss for words. He had no idea what was really happening here.

Well.. At least that annoying sentence made him sure. That he was 100% his Taoist Hyung.

***

No one dared to speak out.

Everyone was now focused on Cheong Myeong's defensive posture, like a beast defending its territory.

Baek Cheon was the first one to snap out of this absurd situation.

"Step aside! You stupid sajil!"

"No!"

Then the five swords followed.

"Cheong Myeong, get over here right now!"

"No!"

"This brat... I know you're crazy, but there's a time and a place for that!"

"NO!"

"Sahyung! He's dangerous!"

"Isn't that guy is the one who's in danger? He was captured by Cheong Myeong,"

"Shut up, Jo Geol!" Yoon Jong hit Jo Geol on the head with his scabbard.

Cheong Myeong started to get annoyed, "AARG...! Can you all just shut the fuck up for a second?! I'm trying to think!"

"Thinking is not your speciality!"

"Fuck you, Dong Ryong!"

"This idiot—!"

Tang Bo could only remain silent amidst the bickering of these seemingly insane people. But then...

"Ugh..."

--!!

"H-hyung-nim?"

The strength of Cheong Myeong's arms around his body was suddenly gone, along with the sound of a body falling to the ground.

"H-HYUNG-NIM!"

Blood.

So much blood.

Without a second thought, Tangbo quickly took off that damned drenched black clothes and he finally saw. There was a large open wound on his lower abdomen that was still continuing to bleed.

This guy is still the same!!!

How is he able to keep moving with such a large open wound?

It was a very familiar situation. Tang Bo had even experienced it many times before. But even so, he would never get used to the situation where the life of someone he cared about would be lost if he was even a little bit too late.

Tuk! Tuk!

Tang Bo skilfully pressed several blood pressure points to slow down the bleeding.

"Cheong Myeong!"

"Sajil!"

GRAP!!!

Tang Bo's body was instantly thrown back by an overwhelming force. A tall man in a green robe took over Cheong Myeong's body without a second thought.

" Soso! Hurry up!" he shouted, followed by a young woman.

"Yes, Father!"

Tang Bo was about to get up, but his body was being held down by a person.

"Catch him!"

"Keep him away from Cheong Myoung!"

Every limb he had was held by a person with such quick cooperation, it was as if they were used to what they had to do.

"Let go!" Tang Bo struggled to get back to where Cheong Myeong was. But these five people held him so tightly. "Hyung-nim!"

'What's wrong with these kids? Why are they so strong?'

The black uniform they wore was the same as Cheong Myeong's. Unlike the Mount Hua uniforms he was used to see, the black uniforms were somewhat unfamiliar. But the plum blossom symbols on their chests were still the same.

They were Mount Hua disciples.

But how could they be so strong?

Of course, the Mount Hua disciples Tang Bo knew were strong disciples. They were the ones who deserved the title of Plum Blossom Swordsman, the elite of the Murim world.

But these five were different. Their strength was much stronger than the Mount Hua disciples he knew.

'Especially that white-headbanded guy with lame name called Dong ryong'

He was still so young, but Tang Bo could confirm that his strength was on par with a first grade disciple who was a direct disciple of a respected elder.

Who are these people? How come he never knew there were such people in the Great War?

And how can they call the plum blossom sword saint by his name!?

"Sa-Sasuk, is Cheong Myeong going to be all right?" asked the disciple with a bandit-like appearance who was clutching his left leg.

"He's Cheong Myeong! he'll wake up soon and scream at us as usual, right? Besides, Soso and Lord Tang are here." The young man replied confidently. Yes, his voice sounded convincing, but Tang Bo could feel that Dong Ryong's hands, which were holding his body, were trembling with fear.

Lord Tang?

After taking another look, the green robe was unmistakably the colour of the Sichuan Tang family. But who was this man? Tang Bo didn't know him at all! As insignificant as he was to the Tang family, Tang Bo knew all the executives and even the promising successors. But he had never seen that man in his life before!

"Then what should we do with this guy?"

"Should we kill him?"

"Amithaba..."

"He was resurrected by Magyo, so shall we...?"

"But Sajil... protected him."

"..."

"Ugh..."

The people around him groaned.

"Why does that bastard keep adding new problems? What are we supposed to do with this guy?"

"What if we hurt him, will Cheong Myeong go berserk?"

"Probably."

"Doesn't he always go berserk?"

"The one he's protecting is Magyo. But you know how much he hates Magyo! This situation seems more complicated than we thought. "

"There must be something."

"Kiiikk!" Even the little white Marteen, who had come out of nowhere, joined in.

Little by little, Tang Bo was able to figure out what the current situation was.

These people were Mount Hua's disciples.

The Tang family there is trying to save Cheong Myeong.

And Tang Bo was currently the enemy they were all being wary of.

In the world of murim, there are times when you have to stop trying and go with the flow, there are times when you have to join hands with the enemy, and there will be times .... when you have to beg to be spared.

For him, the dark saint that he is, that time may have come.

Tang Bo suddenly stopped resisting.

"I surrender." He said quietly.

The bickering Disciples turned their heads in disbelief.

"Huh?"

"What?"

"I surrender. I won't resist! I won't run away! I will keep silent and I will give my life to you if it is necessary! You can cut off my head right here and now if you want to!"

"No, this—"

"But I'm begging you. At least give him these clothes!" Tang Bo pointed at Cheong Myeong who was lying not far from him.

"..."

"The bleeding is too close to the artery, there aren't enough bandages here, pressing the acupuncture points won't be enough! The only cloth clean enough here is this damn funeral outfit, so hurry up and use it to stop the bleeding before it's too late!"

Warm tears were dripping from his emerald eyes.

Never had he felt so afraid. Never had he felt so hopeless and miserable, even in death. Pleading to strangers, offering himself as a hostage, these were all things a Tang Bo would never do in his entire life.

But he would do it, if it could save that person's life even a little, he would even sell his soul to the devil if necessary.

"Please. I won't ask for anything else... I beg you... save him..."

Baek Cheon was unable to say anything as he could feel the sincerity and desperation in the voice, which had become hoarse from crying.

The young man sighed softly.

Right, their priority now was to save Cheong Myeong.

"Baek Cheon Dojang." Tang Gunak called as he continued his treatment.

"Yes, Lord Tang."

"Give me a clean cloth."

"Understood. Yoon Jong, cut off his sleeve."

"Yes, Sasuk."

He skilfully carried out Baek Cheon's order. The long white sleeve hanging from Tang Bo's hand was neatly cut off with a sharp plum blossom sword.

"Tie him up."

" Yes!"

Tang Bo did not resist. He let the disciples bind his hands and body together, not even thinking about how pathetic he looked right now.

His emerald green eyes were still blurred with tears, but he didn't take his eyes off the body lying there.

"Taoist Hyung-nim..."

I beg you...

Please stay alive..

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The sound of footsteps could be heard in the corridor leading to the Mount Hua Sect's finance hall. The disciples working there paid their respects to the figure who had arrived in a hurry.

"Is Sahyung— no, is sect leader inside?"

"Yes, Elder-nim. The sect leader has just finished a meeting with the head of the finance hall and is having tea."

"Thanks."

The first grade disciple bowed once more to the Plum Blossom Sword Saint and let Cheong Myeong pass freely. There was supposed to be a procedure for meeting the sect leader, but none of that applied to Cheong Myeong. No one could stop him, especially when it came to Cheong Mun.

"Sahyung! Cheong Mun sahyung!" Cheong Myeong shouted as he opened the doors to the financial hall. The people in the room immediately turned their heads at a sight they were used to seeing.

"Cheong Myeong-ah, how many times do I have to tell you? You should start calling me sect leader ." Cheong Mun sighed tiredly.

"Hehe... sorry. Still not used to it."

It's been about 5 years since Cheong Mun became the leader of Mount Hua. But for Cheong Myeong, it was only 5 years. 5 years is not too long compared to Cheong Myeong, who had been calling Cheong Mun 'Sahyung' for the whole of his life.

"Behave like your age! You're already in your 50s! God, you can make me die early".

"What is sahyung talking about? I'm only 50."

"Forget it! Why are you looking for me to the the finance hall?" asked Cheong Mun, telling the people to leave to give them some privacy. No, it was probably more appropriate for those people to leave rather than have an argument with that troublemaker Cheong Myeong.

With only the two of them left in the room, Cheong Myeong smiled and saluted.

"W-what's wrong?"

Cheong Mun had a bad feeling.

'What is this little shit up to?'

"The 13th disciple of Mount Hua, Cheong Myeong, asked the sect leader for permission to descend from Mount Hua."

"Huh? Wouldn't you normally just fly off and leave without my permission?"

Even as a teenager, Cheong Myeong often ran away from Mount Hua and went to Xi'an to drink. Of course, this was all without the sect's permission. What made this brat suddenly ask for their permission?

"But this time I might be gone for a while, so I thought it would be best to inform Sahyung first."

That's what it looks like. He doesn't ask for permission, he just gives notice.

"Where are you going? For how long?"

"I'm going to Sichuan, maybe... for a month?"

"A month!? What will you be doing for a month?"

"I intend to repair my sword over at that place. Doesn't Sahyung know that handicrafts should be done slowly, without rushing, to get the best results?"

"Everyone knows that repairing a sword doesn't take that long."

"And I heard that there were bandit attacks in the area leading to Yunnan. As a Taoist, I was moved to help people in need."

"..."

If these words had come from another disciple and not from Cheong Myeong, Cheong Mun would have believed them at once. But this is Cheong Myeong. That cheong myeong! The Taoist who acted worse than a bandit.

But what can Cheong Mun do? He could never stop Cheong Myeong if that idiot decided to do something.

"Never mind, when are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"I understand. Don't make any trouble - no, that's impossible. Just don't make too much of a problem, all right? You're taking Mount Hua's name with you."

"I get it. What am I, a kid?"

"Yes, you are, you 50-year-old child! And give my regards to Elder Tang Bo. Bring him some plum blossom wine as well."

"..."

"You two, Elders your age are busy raising disciples and training successors, but you guys are still - Aigoo..." Cheong Mun shook his head.

"Ng? how did you know?"

"What?"

"About me visiting Tang Bo."

"I see, you're still stupid like always. What other reason do you have to go all the way to Sichuan just to repair a sword? There are many blacksmiths in Hua Village, but you chose to go to Sichuan. You're a brat who can't make friends".

There was nothing wrong with it, but Cheong Myeong was annoyed to hear it so directly.

It wasn't that he was bad at socialising, but people naturally avoided him out of fear or awkwardness. Cheong Myeong had never thought that he needed friends so much, so he did not bother. After all, he still has his Sahyung and Sajae. In Tang Bo's case, that person was a freak who clung to him like a leech before Cheong Myeong finally accepted him.

"Sit down and have some tea with me. There are many things you should consider before descending tomorrow."

"Ugh..."

Now Cheong Myeong regretted asking permission, he should have just run away as usual so he wouldn't have to listen to Cheong Mun's nagging anymore.

***

As Cheong Myeong's consciousness began to return, he smelled the familiar scent of flower tea. The aroma of plum blossom. The tea that Cheong Myeong hadn't really liked at first, but which he slowly got used to and which eventually became one of his comforting drinks.

A figure in the dark robes of a sect leader sat beside him. The back that looked so safe and warm. It was like...

"Sa..hyung?"

The figure stopped and turned towards him. Cheong Mun's shadow slowly disappeared and was replaced by Hyun Jong's gentle smile.

"Hoho. to the point that the first person you look for when you wake up is your sahyung, only at times like this do you act like the youngest in our sect."

"Sect leader..."

Cheong Myeong tried to stand up to greet him.

"Never mind, since when do you care about such formalities? Don't move and rest."

Cheong Myeong complied and lay down again.

"Sect leader... this..."

"Tang family residence. You've been unconscious for a week."

A week.

After defeating the Bishop, he was unconscious for a week.

'I'm still very weak.' Cheong Myeong sighed.

"Then how can a sect leader..."

"As soon as we heard what happened, we rushed to Sichuan. Our disciple is fighting for life and death, how could we not come? Fortunately, there are not many casualties, except for your critical condition, of course."

"Sahyung and Sasuk..."

"They are fine. They even refused to leave you for the first 3 days. After we came, we elders took turns to keep you company here. How are you? Is there anything uncomfortable?" asked Hyun Jong gently.

"I will be fine. The wound has also closed, so the sect leader doesn't have to worry too much."

The internal injuries are a bit messed up, but it's something that I'm only going to be able to fix myself.

There was a serious internal injury on his body, and Cheong Myeong, who was the most knowledgeable about qi in this place, had to fix it himself. he will do it later with meditation.

"Lord Tang also said that your recovery speed is very fast, but if there is anything, you must say it quickly. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Huu... says the demonic sect has reached Sichuan. We have a lot to deal with and many problems to solve. But that can be done later, our first priority is Mount Hua disciples' safety and yours."

"Sect leader..."

"Yes, my child."

"About the kid in the incident"

"About the child who became the vessel for the reincarnation of the Heavenly Demon that you protected?"

"No, you don't have to apologise. I wasn't scolding you," Hyun Jong stroked Cheong Myeong's bandaged hand. "I'm sure you have a good reason for that."

"..."

"Cheong Myeong-ah, even though you often make trouble, speak harshly, disrespect elders, greedy, take bandits as slaves, stingy..."

"Sect leader..."

"Ekhem... Even though you're like this, we know you're a smart child. And I know that you love Mount Hua more than anything. That's why we are sure that you know what you're doing and that you won't risk the safety of your friends or even Mount Hua. We believe in you."

'No, sect leader. I don't even know why I did this,' Cheong Myeong closed her eyes, unable to meet Hyung Jong's trusting gaze.

He doesn't know. Cheong Myeong didn't know what made him do it. His heart and instinct took over his decisions. They made him risk his life for a person who seemed to be a mirror of the one he was longing for.

But what if he made the wrong choice? What if it is nothing more than an illusion that the heavenly demon has created for him? What if it's not the Tang Bo he knows?

"What happened to him?"

"This poor child is now under the supervision of the Tang family. But don't worry, I've made sure that nothing will happen to him. The disciple's wish is Mount Hua's will, and your will to protect him is Mount Hua's duty to do what we have to do." Hyun jong tried to calm down. Then he sighed softly.  "We had questions about his identity, but he was silent and never answered. He also never accepted the food we provided and chose to remain silent."

"It's been a week, but what is this guy doing? Is he planning to commit suicide by hunger?"

"We can't understand him. And all that came out of his mouth was the question, 'What happened to the Plum Blossom Sword Saint?'"

...!?

"He never said anything, not even his name, but he always asked about the Plum Blossom Sword Saint of Mt. Hua, as if it was the thread that held his life together".

Cheong Myeong remembered the face that called out his name before he lost consciousness. The face that was so shocked, so anxious, so desperate.

"And... and what was the answer we gave?"

"Plum Blossom Sword Saint... is dead."

...

That's right. That's the reality.

"And he accepted it?"

"He said he would confirm it with his own eyes."

"...."

If it was Tang Bo, no, if it was Cheong Myeong who was captured by people he didn't know and then got the news that Tang Bo was dead, what would Cheong Myeong do?

He would destroy everything in his sight. Just as he did when Tang Bo died in his arms during the war.

But maybe Tang Bo is more of a fool than he thinks he is. He probably believed that Cheong Myeong was still alive and decided to wait. Wait for the right moment. Like a snake that chooses to remain still until its prey comes to it. Like the character of the Tangs that is embedded in his very core.

"This old man has already told you everything he knows. Are you going to tell it from your point of view, Cheong Myeong-ah?"

"I'm sorry, sect leader."

"I understand."

"But I'll explain after I've confirmed one thing." Cheong Myeong tried to get up again, "I have to see him."

"now now... where are you going in that state?"

"But..."

"You should rest. Lord Tang and Soso will not forgive me if I let you leave this room."

Cheong Myeong ignored him and tried to get up, but then.

"Rest here and stay still, Cheong Myeong. This is an order."

Hearing this, Cheong Myeong couldn't do anything.  

"...fine."

His lips said "fine", but his mind kept wandering to think about the condition of that person, which was probably even more chaotic than his heart at the moment. But the sect leader's orders are absolute for him. Even if Hyun Jong ordered him to execute the person in question, Cheong Myeong would do it. For Cheong Myeong, Mount Hua is his everything.

"We can ask that boy to come here instead. I will also inform the other disciples, they will be happy to hear that you are awake."

But Hyun jong is a person with a very soft heart, sometimes to the point of being foolish, and Hyun Jong knows this too. He is aware of his weak heart, but still believes in himself and in mount hua's disciples. That's why Cheong Myeong respects him more than anyone else.

"I understand."

Seeing Cheong Myeong become a little more relaxed, Hyun Jong returned a small smile.

Cheong Myeong is a precious figure for Mount Hua. No, it's not that he loves Cheong Myeong more than the other students, but there are times when Cheong Myeong doesn't seem to be someone who can be read with just one look.

"Cheong Myeong-Ah, before I call this child here, is there anything you want to tell me?" Hyung Jong asked gently.

There were so many layers in him that he never showed anybody. There were so many emotions he kept to himself. There is so much responsibility that he carries on his back, which looks so tiny to Hyung Jong right now. Like a child who needs to be protected from the world, Hyun Jong wants Mount Hua to be able to protect this child who now looks so fragile.

Cheong Myeong was silent for a long time, breathing heavily, his flower-coloured eyes seeming to search for the words he wanted to say. Then the boy answered.

"Sect leader, no matter what happens in the past or the future, I am Mount Hua's disciple. That is enough for me."

***

After a moving session in which the Elders, the Five Swords and even Tang's family came to visit him after he regained consciousness, the room, once warm with words and advice, slowly began to fall silent.

It was all because they were waiting for the person who held the key to everything that had happened in the past few days.

Baek Cheon, sitting with his Sajil and Samae, whispered quietly.

"Hey, don't you think Cheong Myeong looks different than usual?"

"Because he's not looking for alcohol when he wakes up?"

"Not that! Yun Jong, hit him for me!"

TAAK!

"Ouch! Sasuk, did I say something wrong?"

"Shut up Geol-ah, shut up. Can't you read the room?" Yun Jong sighed in annoyance.

"Amithaba..."

Yu isol said quietly, "sajil called 'that person' here."

Baek cheon then continued, "He is the vessel that magyo used for the heavenly demon vessel, but you also felt it when we interrogated him, right? This person is different from the Magyo or even the Bishop we encountered. And there's no demonic energy in him at all. He's so calm, but his eyes look dead.

"He also keeps asking about the Plum Blossom Sword Saint."

"The Sword Saint has been passed away for 100 years, so why is this person still asking for him?"

"He's probably like the people from the Beast Palace and Lord Meng So who even worship the Plum Blossom Sword Saint."

"But they worship him because they know that the Sword Saint died after defeating the Heavenly Demon." said Soso 

"That's right."

"Soso, did he say anything when he was with the Tang family?"

Soso shook her head, "He never said anything, but hmm... how do I put this? His gaze was a little softer when the tang family was taking care of him. He also smiled a little when we gave him the tang family's clothes and robes to change into before coming here."

"Huh? You guys gave him the Tang family clothes?"

"Father ordered us to do so. He said that until his identity and current position were confirmed, he still belonged to the Tang family.

Baek Cheon and the others have heard of Tang Zhishu. He is the son of the branch of the Tang family that went missing about two years ago. They had been searching for him for a long time but with no results. Since Tang Zhishu had a weak body, they concluded that the boy wouldn't be able to survive out there. That's why the child was declared dead about a year ago and the search was officially terminated.

Knock... knock...

The sound of knocking on the door was heard and people turned their attention outside. From the shadows seen through the doorway, three people were standing there.

"Sect leader, we brought him here."

Hyun Jong took his seat. He glanced at Cheong Myeong who was sitting not far from him. Cheong Myeong nodded slowly.

"Bring him in."

Tang Zhan and Tang Pae, who were ordered to pick up "that person", opened the door and entered the room.

Everyone's attention was now focused on the figure that was walking silently. Tang Zhishu, or perhaps Cheon Ma, entered the room with the green robes of the Tang family hanging from his body.

In contrast to his disheveled appearance of the past week, this person looked more delicate after cleaning up. With a body tall enough for a child who should be 17-18 years old, brownish hair that was loose without any binding accessories, and emerald green eyes that looked dark, he looked like a child of a noble family. However, the person did not raise his head and kept his head down.

Grrt...

Hyun Jong noticed Cheong Myeong's hand squeezing tightly on his clothes.

"Lord Tang. Do you have something to say?"

"I will leave it up to you, sect leader."

"I see..." Hyun Jong began to explain what had happened in the past few days, from the rumors of demonic activity around Sichuan, to the investigation by Mount Hua's disciples, to the fight with the Magyo and the Bishop that nearly took their lives.  "...and that's how our disciples found you, the child of the Tang family who became the vessel for the resurrection of the Heavenly Demon."

"..."

The child chose to remain silent.

"At that time, the most appropriate thing to do would have been to cut off your head and stop the resurrection of the Heavenly Demon. But there was one unexpected variable. At that time, one of our disciples decided to protect you."

When Hyun Jong said this, everyone held their breath.

And at that moment, he lifted his face and his emerald green eyes met with Cheong Myeong's.

"Our disciple, he ignored the orders of his sasuk and sahyung and refused to follow the logic of the situation. With his wounded body, he chose to protect you at the risk of his life.

There was a slight tremor in those slender body, and the calm expression on his face was so full of emotion. The teenager clenched his fists as if he was going to stop himself from running towards Cheong Myeong, who was sitting right in front of him.

Everyone held their breath. No one expected to see the expression of sadness, worry, and relief on this figure. Then they turned to Cheong Myeong.

"Then I'll ask." Cheong Myong got up from his seat, walked slowly and stopped right in front of the man. His body was covered in bandages, and his face was covered in wounds, as if to say that he was the one who had the right to ask the questions.

Cheong Myung's voice filled the quiet room, "Are you a heavenly demon, Cheon Ma, or are you a child of the Tang family, Tang Zhushi?"

"..."

"I will believe you even if the words you are spitting out are lies."

In this way, no matter what happens or what the person does in the future, it's all the responsibility that Cheong Myeong will take. If the person in front of them turns out to be a demon, it's all Cheong Myeong's fault for believing in them. It was a very heavy responsibility, but Cheong Myeong was ready to bear it.

"I will believe you, so... answer me."

The time was so long that no one could move in anticipation of the answer.

And then the figure shook his head gently, "No... neither."

The people lost their voices and breath when they heard this. So did Cheong Myeong with his tormented breathing.

"Then... who are you?" Cheong Myeong's voice was trembling as he said it.

Answering this question, the owner of the emerald eyes stepped back. His hands then formed a seal in a gesture of greeting. His body slowly bowed in a graceful motion.

"The elder of the Sichuan Tang family, Tang Bo the Dark Saint, greets the Plum Blossom Sword Saint." Tang Bo then raised his face with a smile and tears running down his cheeks. "It is good to see you healthy, Taoist Hyung-Nim."

No one could react. Not the elder and Mount Hua disciples who heard the name of one of their ancestors mentioned, nor the Tang family who stared at Tang Bo with disbelieving eyes.

Cheong Myeong was the only one who smiled and stepped forward. With his hands full of bandages, he roughly rubbed at the wet, emerald green eyes.

"Since when did you become such a crybaby, you little shit."

.

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Chapter Text

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"The elder of the Sichuan Tang family, Tang Bo the Dark Saint, greets the Plum Blossom Sword Saint."

One thing almost everyone in the room agreed on but didn't say was. 

"He must be crazy".

And when they saw Cheong Myeong smiling and believing him just like that, they thought,

"Okay, this is nothing new, we already have one crazy person here, just add one more, that's it."

The Dark Saint, Tang Bo. 

For the Sichuan Tang family, this name is a legend passed down from generation to generation. A genius born only once in a hundred years, the father of various dagger techniques and medicine or poison arts. He created the Twelfth Soul Hunting Dagger, which became the secret technique of the Tang Core Family's patriarchal pride, allowing them to survive as part of the five great families in the Murim world. 

And this figure had died as a war hero in the great war against Magyo 100 years ago. 

It was supposed to be that way. 

But the young man in front of them claimed to be that legendary figure. Without nerves, hesitation, or lies, every word that came out of his mouth seemed to carry the weight and responsibility of his name. 

Tang Gunak still couldn't believe what he heard. 

Because it was impossible. 

In the boundless world of Murim, there are so many miracles that are beyond logic and sometimes even seem to break the laws of nature. Starting with the extraordinary strength, the incomparable youthfulness, up to the immortality that is still a mystery. But everyone knows that there is a line that cannot be crossed. That is to say, the dead cannot come back. 

Some doctrines, such as Shaolin, believe in reincarnation, but Tang Gunak is neither stupid nor ignorant; he also knows that even a reincarnated person is supposed to have no memories or attachments to his previous life. Because that would be a disturbance of the balance between nature and humankind. 

So what about the case in front of him? 

He clearly remembered the ritual performed by the demon sect back then, how the crazy bishop said things like the return of the heavenly demon to this world, so he was sure that this was not the reincarnation that he and maybe everyone else knew all along.

What then? 

What had really happened?

Tang Gunak turned to Cheong Myeong, who was now grumbling in annoyance as he wiped away Tang Bo's tears, which were still flowing endlessly. The disciple had an annoyed look on his face, and his mouth did not stop muttering harsh curses as well, but everyone couldn't help but notice how he was trying to hide the tenderness in his pink eyes. 

Tang Gunak, trying to find the right moment to interrupt, finally dared to speak. "Cheong Myeong Dojang," he called to Cheong Myeong who was still trying to stop Tang Bo's crying.

"What is it?! Wait! Ck! You're gross, don't wipe your snot on my clothes!" 

The Tang family head pretended not to see as Hyun Young, the elder of Mount Hua, handed over a handkerchief and used it to blow Tang Bo's snot. 

"Mount Hua Divine Dragon, can you explain exactly what happened?"

"That's my intention as well," Cheong Myeong sighed, "but I don't know where to start. Ah damn it! This is all beyond my plans and calculations!"

"Since when can you calculate?" 

"Oi Dongryong, don't think I can't hear your babbling!" he shouted at Baek Cheon who was at the end of the room with the five swords. 

"Haha, you just misheard me, my dear shit Sajil." 

"HUH!? COME AT ME!"

Just before Cheong Myeong was about to charge at Baek Cheon from the other side of the room, Hyun Jong pulled his collar down "Cheong Myeong-ah, how about we all sit down and listen to your explanation?" 

At Hyung Jong's suggestion, everyone finally returned to their seats. Tang Zhan didn't forget to bring an extra chair for Tang Bo to sit at the table. The other disciples sat on the floor and listened to the conversation from the other side of the room. 

Cheong Myeong, who looks different from a few minutes ago, now draws everyone's attention. The carefree body language, careless speech, and disrespectful look are gone. He looked like a different person. Like a lake in the winter, he looked so calm, but no one was able to measure the depth of it. 

"Sect leader, do you remember our conversation six years ago?"

"..."

Hyun Jong decided to remain silent. He still didn't know what words would come out of his youngest disciple's lips next. He just waited. 

"On that day, you promised in the name of Mount Hua that you would not let any obstacles stand in my way, and I also promised that we would walk together, side by side, to make the Mount Hua sect great and glorious."

"Yes, of course I remember." That was his conversation with Cheong Myeong after Mount Hua won the Zhonghua Competition for the first time in a long time. 

Everyone, especially the elders of Mount Hua, gasped, because making a promise on behalf of the sect carries a tremendous weight and responsibility. They didn't expect Hyun Jong to make such a promise to Cheong Myeong, who was only a third-grade disciple who didn't even have a name in the Murim world yet.  

"And on that day, I also promised that I would explain everything to you, but even today, I can't fulfill that promise."

"I'm sure you'll tell me when the time comes." And Hyun Jong thought that the time had come. Suddenly, he felt nervous about the next words that would come out of Cheong Myeong's mouth.

"Sect leader, this disciple is deeply embarrassed that even now I... still can't explain everything."

"..." 

"My sincerest apologies."

Hyun Jong stared in disbelief as Cheong Myeong bowed deeply. As if he was trying to express his deepest and most sincere apologies. 

"But I beg you, even if I can't explain it, I beg you to believe that I never, not in the slightest, had any bad intentions or tried to deceive Mount Hua." 

 "Cheong Myeong-ah!"

Hyun Yeong, who had been trying to control himself, finally couldn't stand it anymore when he saw Cheong Myeong, his favorite baby, who had always raised his head proudly, now lowering his body to ask for forgiveness... and to beg for someone's trust.

"I beg you..."

"Cheong Myeong, raise your head. Hyun Jong ordered. 

Only when the Sect Leader commanded him to raise his head did he begin to listen. 

Hyun Jong's soft yet firm voice broke the silence, "I don't know what exactly happened or what you think of us... but Cheong Myeong-ah, have we ever doubted you?"

"..."

"You said you can't explain everything yet, then just explain what you think needs to be explained, that's enough, we won't ask for more. After all, isn't there a saying that ignorance is a blessing in disguise? I will assume that this path of yours is your means of protecting Mount Hua. Isn't this enough?"

Upon hearing that, Cheon Myoung breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, sect leader."

"In that case, can you get started? What do you want to tell us, Cheong Myeong Ah?"

Cheong Myeong sighed softly. His thick black hair, tied together with a dull green ribbon, moved gently as the wind blew past the window. 

"Compared to that, there is one bastard in this room who needs an explanation from all of us." Cheong Myeong's reply made everyone turn their eyes to Tang Bo who was sitting across from Cheong Myeong. "What the hell is that idiot face?" asked Cheong Myeong in disgust.

" I-I'm just not used to Hyung-nim bowing his head like that. I never saw you do that even to sect leader Chung Mun."

"This and that are different issues."

"It's Hyung-nim's fault for changing so much. So? How long has it been since I died and finally ended up in this body?"

.

.

"uhukk uhuk!!!" someone choked.

"Pffftt!!!" and someone else spit out the tea they were drinking.

Even Yu Iseol, who always had a calm expression on her face, had an incredulous expression on her face. 

Cheong Myeong snickered while everyone else in the room was frozen, unable to process this absurd conversation. "This idiot starts with the hardest question to answer," he muttered.

Dying? yes he did.

Switch bodies? 

What exactly were they talking about!!!? 

But seeing how calm Cheong Myeong looked, they decided to wait for the rest to come out.

"Then let's start from here. What conclusions have you come to so far?"

Tang Bo seemed to think for a moment and then replied, "First, I died in the Great War, I remember that part clearly. Second, a certain amount of time has passed since I died, which I deduct from the fact that the people around Hyung-nim are no longer people I know. Besides, Hyung-nim wouldn't just put someone he didn't trust on his side, so time must have passed long enough for him to trust someone new. And thirdly, this is just my guess, but it seems like the demon cult did something to bring the heavenly demon back to life by possessing this body, but I still don't know why I was the one summoned, that's all.

Cheong Myeong sighed, relieved that she didn't have to waste time explaining, "This bastard is usually dumb, but at least he tries to look smart like this when needed."

"Hyung-nim, I don't have to try, I was born with brains." He replied.

But Tang Gunak had a different reaction, cold sweat running down his temples. "So... that..."

"Cheong Myeong-ah..." Hyun Jong looked at Cheong Myeong with pleading eyes, the teacup trembling in his hand. "What he said was..."

"Everything Tang Bo said is true, well almost"

Braak!!!

Tang Gunak banged on the table. "Almost?! Cheong Myeong Dojang! That 'almost' part is the most important thing!" He said.

Cheong Myeong was surprised at Tang Gunak's reaction which he thought was excessive, "He-hey..."

"'Because it's not just 'some time' that has passed, do you know how big this problem is at the moment?"

"That's why you need to calm down first!"

"How could I...!"

Brak!!

PANG!

This time, everyone was surprised by Tangbo, who threw his teacup right at Tang Gunak's head.

"FATHER!"

"Oh my-!"

The no longer hot tea water slowly dripped down the Tang family patriarch's face, spilling all over the table. Still, no one dared to move as Tang Bo, a person now in the body of a teenager, exuded a murderous aura that froze the room. 

"What the heck... Tang Bo!!" Cheon Myoung was about to speak, but Tang Bo wasn't done yet. 

"The Plum Blossom Sword Saint is in front of you, and you dare to raise your voice?! I don't care who you are, the emperor or whatever. I'm going to kick your ass right here and now."

"Oi this little brat-!"

"I'm sorry Hyung-nim, but please don't interfere. This is a Tang family matter. It's my duty as the elder of the Sichuan Tang family to discipline my family." Tang Bo rose from his seat and stared intently

at the still stunned Tang Gunak. "You, who the hell are you anyway?"

"I...I..."

Cheong Myeong interrupted, "He is the head of the Tang family, you moron! Stop this crap and pay attention to me!"

"Head of the Tang family? But I've never seen you before. Did all the elders and direct descendants die to allow this position to be given to a stranger? Where did you come from? A branch family?"

"Esteemed elder, I..."

 "I've tried to ignore it since Hyung-nim didn't seem to mind, but it seems like you've crossed the line. How dare you raise your voice! Didn't anyone teach you any manners? !!!! And what about the way you called him? Dojang? Since when did you call a Plum Blossom Sword Saint, an honorary elder of Sichuan Tang, such a lowly name? If you want to know what it feels like to die, you can tell me."

"I... that," the face of the head of the Tang family was deathly pale. The blood seemed to have been sucked out of his face. He had never felt so scared. Not during the times when the Tang elders tried to suppress his politics, and not even during his father's harsh upbringing. The fear he felt from Tang Bo's pressure was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Everything felt as if his body was wrapped around a snake that wanted to crush every bone in his body. He is the real thing, there is no way that this kind of aura can be emitted by someone who is not a member of the Tang family. 

On the other hand, Cheong Myeong's head felt like it was going to explode, he hadn't expected Tang Bo to explode so quickly over something so trivial. It's always been like this, Tang Bo rarely cares about how people see him, but it's a different story when it comes to Cheong Myeong. Tang Bo never forgives people who demean or disrespect the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, even worse if it's the Tang family member.

"I-I apologize to our esteemed elder."

"I am not the one you owe an apology to."

"But before that, esteemed elder, there is a misunderstanding here. The man you call the Plum Blossom Sword Saint..." Tang Gunak turned to Cheong Myeong who was also nervous, "He is not the person you know. He's not..."

"You still don't seem to understand what I'm saying."

"Esteemed elder..."

"What? Are you going to spit another lie in front of me? That the Plum Blossom Sword Saint is dead? Try it if you dare you bastard!!"

"Esteemed elder... please listen... I beg you!"

Cheong Myeong could feel the blaming looks directed at him. They all seemed to be saying: "Look what you've done!"

FUCK!!!

SHIT!

HOW DID EVERYTHING TURN OUT LIKE THIS!?? 

Sect leader sahyung, please take this guy back to the afterlife! I don't need this kid!!!

'Haah.. this kid. What can I do? You're the one who brought him in.'

No! It's not my fault!

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Chapter Text

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Tang Bo is someone who loves his family, even though he didn't like how the Tang family focused too much on making poisons instead of refining their martial arts skills with daggers, he was still the one who took care of his family. He loved kids. He was the cool uncle who always invited them over to play and gave them snacks. Everyone loved and respected him. He was friendly, funny and yet strict. But somehow, no one knew since when or why, when it came to Cheong Myeong, Tangbo was so hard on his family.

To him, if someone doesn't respect the people that Tang Bo respects, especially the people he considers his own elder brother, then that person doesn't respect him as an elder in the Tang family.

That's the reason why he made Cheong Myeong an honorary elder in the Tang family, so that everyone, especially his family, could also see the Plum Blossom Sword Saint as a family. 

So what happens if Cheong Myeong is disrespected or, worse, mistreated in the Tang family? This is what happens. 

.

Cheong Myeong slowly moved his chair closer to Hyung Jong and sought protection. 

The chaos continues as Tang Gunak, a figure who has always looked authoritative, now pleads in front of a "teenage boy" who scolds him like a grandfather lecturing his grandson. 

What kind of scene is this?

"Esteemed elder... I beg you to listen..."

Tang Bo ignored him and decided to turn to Cheong Myeong, "Hyung-nim, I apologize for my family's rudeness. " 

"Don't mind it, Tang Bo-ya."

Hearing the way Cheong Myeong mentioned Tang Bo's name, Tang Gunak couldn't help but interrupt. "Cheong Myeong Dojang, you too! I'm begging you, it's time for you to stop your acting. You can't do the same thing as you did to my grand-uncle. If this continues, it will cause confusion for all of us."

Cheong Myeong almost snapped at the words directed at him. He already thought that the reason why the people around him hadn't questioned how he had behaved in front of Tang Bo until now was because they thought that Cheong Myeong was doing something crazy by pretending to be a Plum Blossom Sword Saint like he had done to Tang Jo Pyung, the elder of the Tang family, a few years ago. And he wants to let them speculate like that, no one will get hurt anyway. But how could he explain it to Tang Bo now?

His original plan was to tell Tang Bo that 100 years had passed, and let the idiot believe that he was the living Plum Blossom Sword Saint. And at the same time, he would make these people think that he was deceiving Tang Bo by pretending to be the Sword Saint. Then when the time came, or at least when he was alone with Tang Bo, he would slowly explain everything.

Not like this. 

Not with everyone suspecting each other in the confusion.

'Damn, this is not going to end well'. Cheong Myeong gave up and accepted his fate.

"Acting? What the hell are you talking about?" asked Tang Bo, not understanding Tang Gunak's words.

But as soon as he felt Tang Bo's piercing gaze, Tang Gunak didn't dare to continue his explanation. 

Seeing this, Hyun Jong understood. Perhaps this should be explained by him, the successor of Mount Hua. After a long silence, he said, "Dear Elder of the Tang Family. With deep regret, our Plum Blossom Sword Saint has died in the great war against Magyo."

"So what? Are you saying that this man in front of me is a damn Jiangshi?"

"And that fellow... he is not a Plum Blossom Sword Saint. He is the 23rd diciple of Mount Hua, the third grade diciple, Cheong Myeong."

"23rd diciple..." Tang Bo's voice trembled as he saw Cheong Myeong in front of him looking away, "Stop fucking with me." 

Tang Gunak bowed deeply, "Oh our esteemed elder, the 'some time' you are referring to is not a short time, one hundred... one hundred years have passed since the death of the Plum Blossom Sword Saint. He ended the great Magyo War by beheading the Heavenly Demon."

"A hundred... years?"

"We understand that there is some confusion about the current situation, as this is not the first time that someone from the Tang family has mistaken our disciple for the Plum Blossom Sword Saint. Besides, he has the same name as our noble ancestor. Our Cheong Myeong is still young, he's only in his twenties. Our disciple sometimes does things that cross the line, so it is my responsibility as the leader of the sect to discipline him.

Cheong Myeong clenched her fists as Hyung Jong called out.

"Cheong Myeong-ah, you too should make an apology to the respected elder immediately."

"..."

"Cheong Myeong-ah?"

But the called person did not answer, or rather, he could not answer. 

He should be able to make up lies as easily as he used to. But somehow, this time, he couldn't, he didn't want to. And it was all Tang Bo's fault. 

All this time, he has been hiding his identity because no one needs to know who he really is, but now there is one person who Cheong Myeong wants to be able to recognize his true self. About his past and his present.

By saying 'I am not a Plum Blossom Sword Saint' here, in front of the only person in this world who could recognize him, Cheong Myeong felt as if he was erasing his existence from the world. And for Cheong Myeong, who has always felt lonely even in such a crowded world, it's so terrifying. 

The feeling that everyone you've ever been with is gone, leaving you alone, is horrible. But with the return of Tang Bo, just a bit, just a tiny bit, there is at least one person who knows of his existence. 

That's why Cheong Myeong couldn't say it. Not with his own mouth or words.

So, what was he supposed to do at a time like this? 

"Haha!" Tang Bo's sarcastic laugh startled them all. "You're all saying that this guy isn't the Hyung-nim I know? Then who the hell is he? a bloody impostor?"

"Im-impostor?? Uhmm... Esteemed Elder... how should we explain it... Cheong Myeong Dojang often plays and causes trouble, but..."

"But didn't you all allow him to vouch for my identity? How can an ordinary student, a third-year disciple, be a guarantee that I am not a heavenly demon? After 100 years, has the Murim world fallen so low that a disciple can be the guarantor of the "Heavenly Demon Vessel"?

If this was 100 years ago, Tang Bo's head should have been cut off a week ago. But just because of a sect disciple, everyone here is letting him live? That's absurd. 

It makes no sense at all, unless the Cheong Myeong in front of him has such a huge influence that everyone can believe it. And Tang Bo believes such an abnormality could only be done by his Taoist Hyung-nim, the Plum Blossom Sword Saint. 

"Bu-But...!" A voice cried from across the room. Baek cheon, who had been listening with his sajil without being able to do anything, finally said, "But he is our sajil!"

"Baek cheong dojang." Tang Gunak rebuked him for the unexpected interruption. 

"Forgive my impudence, Lord Tang. But this really doesn't make any sense. The esteemed elder of the Tang family said that Cheong Myeong is a plum blossom sword saint. But this kid came to Mount Hua six years ago, and he has been growing up with us up until now. His head has always been a little crazy, but... it's impossible that he is ..."

"Why is it impossible?"

"...!"

"I woke up in someone else's body after 100 years, so why can't the Plum Blossom Sword Saint live for 100 years? With his level of cultivation, and the amount of qi he possesses that is beyond imagination, even I, a medical expert, would bet that he can easily live beyond 200 years."

"But what about his appearance or physical condition?"

"You're right! This brat came with a child's body and was scrawny from malnutrition." Add Jo Geol. 

"There is rejuvenation! Even at 80, he's still handsome, don't underestimate my Hyung-nim!"

"..."

Speechless at Tang Bo's stubbornness, they now stared at Cheong Myeong with a look of judgment, pity, and resignation that seemed to say, 'Are you sure he's really the dark saint?'

'DON'T LOOK AT ME! I'm beginning to question that too!'

Cheong Myeong wants to scream, because it is Tang Bo who has such a desperate look on his face right now. 

Is he stupid or what? Is he not a medical expert? Has his brain been left behind in the afterlife? 

When you reach a certain level of understanding and a certain amount of qi, rejuvenating will make you look young, but not with a shrinking body! Muscle mass can be reduced, wrinkled skin and even whitened hair can be regenerated, but not height! Rejuvenation does not make you look like a child again! 

As if realizing that what came out of his mouth was nonsens, Tang Bo looked for a response from Cheong Myeong, who was still silent. "Please say something." He pleaded.

But Cheong Myeong didn't answer, he just didn't know what to say. 

'Sorry, I can not cover your stupidity this time.'

"Taoist Hyung-nim," called Tang Bo.

"..."

"Hyung-nim."

"..."

"HYUNG-NIM, YOU IDIOT!"

"Aish! WHAT? WHY?  WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?"

"I SAID SAY SOMETHING!"

"FUCK! YOU DON'T EVEN LISTEN TO ANYONE HERE!"

Tang Bo will only listen to what he wants to hear and believe what he wants to believe. What's the point of Cheong Myeong saying anything now-

"BUT I ALWAYS LISTEN TO YOU!"

"..."

"Everyone says you're deceiving me, but I know you're not. You know yourself that it's useless and a waste of time to do it to me. So you won't do it."
Cheong Myeong finally gave up. 

Forget it! Stopping Tang Bo from talking nonsense now is more important than his feelings. Let him bury his identity forever. These people don't need to know forever anyway. The most important thing right now is to get out of this room and beat the crap out of that bastard and his damn blabering mouth.  

"All right! They are right! I deceived you! Are you satisfied?! Why do you keep insisting that I'm a Plum Blossom Sword Saint! Whoever I am now, the main issue between you and me right now is that you have come back from the dead because of Magyo! If you focus on that for a moment -"

"Then I'll kill you."

"Oi, you-"

"If you're not a Plum Blossom Sword Saint, then none of this matters. I will kill you for trying to deceive me, and then together we will search for my real Hyung-nim in the afterlife."

"Stop this nonsense right now."

"Nonsense? Of course it's nonsense. Because if we die now, we won't find anyone on the other side. Because our sword saint is right here in front of me. Hyung-nim, you can fool the whole world, but not me."

"Do I really have to be him? He's dead, you fool." 

"And like I said, this would be meaningless to me. Why should I be in a world where you don't even be there?"

"'This asshole..."

"Magyo War? The Awakening of the Heavenly Demon? I have nothing to do with it. I don't fucking care."

"...."

"Hyung-nim, I am not a hero like you. I'm not someone who lives to protect ordinary people or a warrior who tries to save the world. I was never a Taoist in the first place."

Tang Bo was right. Unlike him, Tang Bo was not a Taoist. He was just a member of an honorable family in Sichuan. Even though he had the title of Dark Saint, if he wanted to, he could just stay in Sichuan and protect his family's territory like other Tang warriors. He didn't have to go to the front lines with Mount Hua in the Great War and waste his life fighting alongside with him. 

"Then why did you have to fight to the death over there? Why can't you have a peaceful life somewhere without the sacrifice of your life?"

"Why? You still ask why? Because you were there!"

"..."

"Because you always ignorantly and stupidly throw your self into battle. If not me, who will protect your back? Who would have treated you when you were injured? You idiot! How could I let you fight alone in that hell!"

Cheong Myeong was at a loss for words. 

"You still do not want to say anything? Fine, then I'll prove that you're a plum blossom sword saint. Wait there and watch me!"

Tang Bo grabbed the small fruit-cutting knife on the table. His hand skillfully played with the small knife as if it was part of his own hand. "I think this is enough."

"Elder, what are you trying to do?" Tang Gunak had a bad feeling. 

"Now you are going to tell me who the person in front of me is."

"He... he is Cheong Myeong Dojang, the third grade disciple of Mount Hua."

"He is the one who defeated the Bishop and became the guarantor of my identity, and you have put your trust in him. So who is he really to you?"

Tang Gunak was choked up by Tang Bo's words. In the blink of an eye, Tang Bo had apparently managed to see something that cannot be seen. 

"He is... a talent that has never appeared in history. In just the three years I've known him, his ability to control qi, sword techniques, strategy, demeanor, natural strength, talent, and even his ability to read the enemy have never been seen in the entire Murim. I believe he is someone who will bring great changes to the world. Therefore, I treat him as an equal."

"Haha... and everyone still thinks he's just the kid who came to Mount Hua six years ago with nothing. Hyung-nim, are they all stupid or blind?" 

"Oi watch your mouth."

Tang Bo then turned to Mount Hua, "Sect leader of Mount Hua, my Hyung-nim looks very respect you the most, I'm sorry that your impression of me was so bad since we first met. He is an interesting 'disciple', don't you think?"

"I..indeed. Cheong Myeong has been such a wonderful disciple since he first came six years ago. He is like a good luck charm for us, without him, Mount Hua might never have risen and been in the position it is now. He is someone who loves Mount Hua more than anyone else in this world, so dear esteemed elder, please don't pressure him like this."

"Of course, you don't need to worry. From the way you all look at me with such anger, I can see that this 20-year-old student is a savior for all of you." 

No one can argue with Tang Bo's words, even if they sound absurd. How could the whole of Mount Hua be centered around a child who has just turned 20? It sounds ridiculous, but it's the truth.  

"Did you spoil him with a lot of the best alcohol? That Hyung-nim, ever since I showed him the Tang family's secret technique for removing toxins from the body, he's been using it to relieve his hangover whenever he's almost caught by his sahyung. Since then, he's been gulping down alcohol as if his stomach were an endless well. But Mount Hua won't mind, will it? He's your lucky charm."

"How did he know about Cheong Myeong's endless stomach?" asked Jo Geol, not following.

"No, before that, did we ever ask how Cheong Myeong got rid of his hangover? We let it go as if it was normal." Yoon Jong added.

"Damn, I don't know what's right and what's wrong anymore." Baek Cheon muttered. 

"Secret techniques... Soso-ya, do you know anything?" asked Yu Iseol. 

"They haven't even taught me that yet. I thought Cheong Myeong Sahyung learned it from Mount Hua!" said Tang Soso angrily. 

Hye Hyeon's ears, which picked up the word 'hangover relief', reacted quickly. "Can you teach me that technique too?" 

"Not now, monk!" they replied in a loud voice. 

As he continued to play with the small knife in his hand, Tang Bo smiled as he listened to the children's petty bickering. 

'So this is the new Mount Hua. They're not too bad, Hyung-nim,' he thought. But there were things he had to do first.

Tang Bo still doesn't understand why Cheong Myeong is so eager to hide his identity from them. Wouldn't it be easier if everyone knew that he was a plum blossom sword saint? 

These people insist that Cheong Myeong is not the Sword Saint because the body he has cannot logically belong to someone who lived a hundred years ago. But that logic should no longer apply since he is here. He who died in the war came back in the body of a child named Tang Zishu. For him, now that the line between living and dying has become gray, there is no longer anything impossible in the world of Murim. 

Cheong Myeong seems to want to keep his identity hidden. But the problem is that if Tang Bo's identity as the elder of the Tang family is revealed, everything will become unpleasant. Too much difference in their status will make everything confusing and inconvenient, and Tang Bo doesn't want that. 

Imagine Cheong Myeong, a third grade disciple, bowing to him just because he's an elder. No, that would never happen. Even if it was just a pretend or a public performance, if he followed Cheong Myeong's lies here, then he would have to keep following them with never-ending lies. He didn't want that. To live in the shadows, to treat his Hyung-nim as someone else. He couldn't do that. 

That is why Tang Bo insisted on bringing Cheong Myeong to the light so that they could walk side by side as equals. 

'I am sorry, Hyung-nim, but if you want them to accept me as the Dark Saint, then they all have to accept you as the Plum Blossom Sword Saint.'

Tang Bo looked at the people around her one by one. It seemed as if they were silently trying to remember something they might have forgotten or overlooked about the impossibility that Cheong Myeong had created. 

"Then... that time too?"

"How he trained all the disciples in the sect..."

"Making the elixir..."

After Tang Bo had had enough of sowing doubt in the hearts of these people, he opened his mouth. "A third-grade disciple of Mount Hua, with abilities recognized not only by the Lord of the Tang Family, but almost the entire Murim world, a talent unmatched in the central plain, it all sounds too familiar to me."

"Elder, are you saying..."

"Isn't there something else we can prove?" Tang Bo stepped forward.

"Hey, what the hell were you thinking?" snapped Cheong Myeong as soon as he saw the stance of Tang Bo coming towards him. 

"Just one attack, Hyung-nim. You can't possibly not know this technique."

"Stop it, you idiot! Your current body will be able to withstand it!"

Cheong Myeong was right. His current body would not be able to withstand the recoil of the technique he was about to execute. The qi in this body is not enough, and the dantian in his body is still chaotic. If he used this technique, Tang Bo would probably die a second time.

However, Tang Bo didn't care. He would do it anyway. 

Tang Gunak, who also recognized the stance, felt his legs lose strength, "Elder!" he shouted.

"Lord Tang! What should we..."

"Everyone out of the way! It's dangerous!"

Without being told, everyone except Cheong Myeong had retreated to a distance they felt was safe enough. In an instant, their instincts told them to run. The aura that Tang Bo was emitting was too dangerous for them to endure. 

"Cheong Myeong!"

"What are you doing?!"

Everyone was staring at Cheong Myeong who remained in his position. Instead of picking up his sword, his body just stayed where it was. However, that didn't mean that he had let his guard down.

Normally, they would have believed that Cheong Myeong would be fine, but Cheong Myeong's body, which hadn't even fully recovered from the fight with the Magyo, made them worry.

"That attack..." Tang Gunak choked out. 

The soul hunting dagger, twelve forms. 

The secret technique created by Tang Bo. A technique that even he, the head of the Tang family, failed to fully understand. And that secret technique was now being perfectly demonstrated in front of him. 

"Here it comes." Like a madman, Tang Bo smiled and threw the fruit knife into the air.

At the same time, a powerful and deadly wave of energy was directed at Cheong Myeong who remained still. 

"Cheong Myeong!!!"

" Dojang!!!"

"...!"

BOOM!!!

The wall behind where Cheong Myeong was standing was instantly shattered. A huge hole was created, which might make more sense if the wall was destroyed by a falling meteor. The sunlight that was still shining brightly illuminated Cheong Myeong who was still standing firmly without any injuries. 

"Oh my god..." 

"Amithaba..."

"W-what happened?"

"Was that a miss?"

Cheong Myeong didn't even move an inch. 

"uhuk!!! UHUK!!!" 

The long-awaited recoil finally struck Tang Bo's body. Fresh blood flowed from his smiling lips. The teenager's frail body trembled gently, his legs unable to even support his own body. 

"Crazy bastard," Cheong Myeong muttered as he slowly walked over to him. 

"Hahaha.. you too."

"Stay there." Cheong Myeong caught Tang Bo's body that was about to fall. Quickly, ignoring his own body that was not fully healed, he let his own qi flow into Tang Bo's body, helping him to stabilize the flow of qi in his messy middle and lower dantian.

"Hyung-nim, you're not even moving."

"Because it's not necessary. Stop talking."

Neither of them would have noticed the presence of the Tang Gunak near them had the man not made a sound. "E-esteemn elder..." he called softly. His hands and feet couldn't stop trembling at the horrible state of the room and the pitiful state of the Tang Bo. 

Only because of a single attack. But everyone knew that this power could kill them all in an instant if Tang Bo wanted to. And Cheong Myeong easily survived the attack without any injuries. 

"Family Head, you must know the technique that I have shown you."

" Y-yes. I do indeed know it." 

"Even if he is such an extraordinary talent, do you think a third grade disciple can know the secrets of techniques that only you and I know in this world?"

" ... I highly doubt it."

Things would have been different if Cheong Myeong had managed to parry the attack with his full strength. It would have been a different story if Cheong Myeong was now in a half-dying state from successfully withstanding the attack. 

But he saw it. This diciple, he clearly knew the secret of the Twelfth Technique like the back of his hand. The technique that he had not even been able to practice perfectly, Cheong Myeong could see it. Those plum blossom-colored eyes were able to see both the strength and weakness of that amazing technique, and did only the bare minimum to survive it. 

"Between you as the head of the family and me as the one who created it. There is only one person in this world who knows about it. Someone who has seen this technique dozens, maybe hundreds of times.Someone who fought for his life and death beside me.. And you should be able to guess who that is."

Upon hearing this, Tang Gunak and everyone in this room couldn't help but admit it. 

They all had no choice but to accept it. 

Tang Gunak swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. He sighed softly, he had to admit it here, but there was still one thing he wanted to know before everything was turned upside down by the two monstrous individuals in front of him. 

"Before that, oh esteemed elder. May I know the fundamentals of the technique you demonstrated earlier?"

"I see, so you still don't fully understand. Well, I don't blame you, your chance to understand the technique may have never come for you in this era." 

"..."

"This technique is not meant for offense. I made this technique to protect."

"'To protect'?"

"That's right, this technique was not created to attack, but to protect someone in front of you. Only under these conditions can you see the true potential of its power. Isn't that right, Hyung-nim?"

"Shut up, you idiot! How could your body be so broken from just one time use?"

"Haha, you're right, I used it many times in the great war with a power ten times greater than this." Tang Bo grabbed Cheong Myeong's hand, which was still focused on flowing his qi. His Hyung-nim's big hands felt so rough with so many calluses and scars, no different from his old hands. But those hand .. still as warm as he could remember.

Tang Bo smiled, "But you also know that I really hate it when I have to use this technique. Because that means that you are in such a dangerous situation that you won't be able to stop the enemy in front of you. I created this technique for you, but I really hate when I have to use it."

"You are so freaking annoying."

"But Hyung Nim, only this time, for the first time, I'm happy to use it." 

Because of this technique that he had hated so much, this time it became the light that brought the Saint of the Plum Blossom Sword, Cheong Myeong, to the place where the sunlight could be reach him.

'Hyung-nim, I'm glad that you found me, just like I found you back then.'

"Are you the famous Plum Blossom Sword Saint? Let's have a round."

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Chapter Text

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A light drizzle of rain could be heard as it fell on the roofs of the destroyed buildings. The humid wind blew softly along with the clouds that slowly covered the sun that had been shining brightly. The sky that had glowed blue now turned to gray.

Tang Gunak realized that this pavilion was no longer able to protect them from the upcoming rain. He stared at the young Taoist-No, the Saint of the Plum Blossom Sword, who had fallen silent as he was helping Tang Bo to control the chaotic flow of qi in his body. The fact that Tang Bo was still alive after using that dangerous technique with Tang Zhishu's weak body was nothing short of a miracle, and now he felt that he also had a responsibility to bring Tang Bo, the Dark Saint, back to his prime. First, the Tangs must finish what they left unsettled.

"Oh, esteemed elder, since it's going to start raining soon, let me escort you to the main pavilion so that you can have a comfortable rest."

"Indeed. I think that's best." 

"We will prepare a new room for the Plum Blossom Sword Saint as well."

But Cheong Meyong had no response. His beautiful eyes were focused on Tang Bo's now-stable body. The body was weaker than he expected, but it was stronger than it looked. And Tang Bo was also someone who was an expert in self-healing, so he didn't have to be afraid of the bastard's death for the time being.

Cheong Myeong sighed softly, then he raised his head and looked at everyone who waited for him to answer.

Honestly, he wanted to rest. His mind was too tired to think and his heart was too heavy. But when his eyes met Mount Hua's disciples, his heart seemed to fall into his stomach. His legs felt weak as he realized that the lies that he had been burying for so many years had finally come to the surface.

"Before that..."

Damn it, he could not even control her trembling lips.

"Since it's come to this, I have something to tell you all. So, Lord Tang, could you lend us the room?"

Tang Gunak was silent. The Sword Saint's request was not something that he could refuse, but he still thought that the current situation of Cheong Myeong and Tang Bo was far more important. The two of them, as well as the Mount Hua disciples who were his honored guests at the moment, were in no position to continue the conversation.

"Dear Saint of the Plum Blossom Sword, it might not be my place to say this, but can we postpone the conversation for a moment?"

"..."

"I think that we all need a little bit of time before we come back to talk about this important matter in more detail."

Cheong Myeong looked at the people from the corner of his eye.

Tang Gunak is right, this might not be the best time to do this.

Not only Cheong Myeong and Tang Bo are in bad shape, everyone needs time. Time for them to think, time to process, time to catch up with all the information they've just received, and most of all... they need time to accept the reality of the madness that lies ahead.

Proceeding with the conversation now would probably only cause them to make a foolish and rash decision. Therefore, for the time being, he should be patient and wait for a better time.

"I get it, I get it. We'll continue the conversation tomorrow morning."

"Thank you very much for your wisdom. Zhan, Pae, prepare a room in the main pavilion for the Esteemed Elder and the Sword Saint. And for the Mount Hua disciples, escort them to the west pavilion," Lord Tang told his two sons. He also ordered them to bring some necessary medicine to help Tang Bo's condition.

"And take him with you." Cheong Myeong handed Tang Bo to the two young men.

"Hyung-nim?"

"I'm not freaking gonna carry you, so you go first."

"You don't have to say it like that."

"I'll follow you after I calm myself for a bit."

"I understand."

Tang Bo was no longer able to argue when Cheong Myeong said something like that.

As if reading the mood among them all, after saying a few words to tang soso, tang gunak took his two children and tang bo to the main pavilion first.

Now only the Mount Hua disciples were left in the ruined room.

Cheong Myeong could only stand where he was when the sound of Hyun Jong's slow footsteps broke the silence in the room. Then the disciples and the elders began to gather behind their leader.

A feeling of uneasiness entered his heart. He didn't know what to say. All of the secrets that he had kept hidden for so many years were now out in the open, and in a way that he had not expected.

Would they still accept someone who failed to protect his own sect and came back with lies every step he took?

Would they still be willing to forgive him for deceiving everyone if all these secrets had come from his own mouth?

If only... just if only ... he had been honest a little sooner, would these people have been willing to accept him for who he really was?

Cheong Myeong didn't know, he was too afraid to hear the words that were about to come out of Hyun Jong's mouth. But whether he liked it or not, he who stood here would have to face and accept whatever they decided.

'Sect Leader Sahyung, At least they won't kill me, won't they?'

However, hyun jong's soft voice broke the chains of complicated thoughts that had suffocated him.

"This is really a shortcoming on our part, but please allow us to give you our regards."

"Sect leader... I..."

Cheong Myeong choked up as Hyun Jong's soft eyes looked at him. There were all sorts of emotions in those old, sad eyes that he had never been able to imagine. Happiness, astonishment, pride, sadness, to the sweetness that was always there, were all contained in his eyes that were clouded with tears.

Hyun Jong then gave the seal with his hand like a young child who met his fairy tale hero for the first time. The well-built body, which no longer showed any signs of youth, bowed perfectly before him, and then his soft and polite voice was heard,

"I pay my respects to our esteemed ancestor, the Plum Blossom Sword Saint."

"WE PAY OUR RESPECTS TO OUR ESTEEMED ANCESTOR, THE PLUM BLOSSOM SWORD SAINT!" The unified voice of Mount Hua's disciples boomed, sending shivers down the spines of everyone who heard it.

But Cheong Myeong, the one who receives this tribute, doesn't need it.

He didn't need respect, gratitude, or gestures of kindness. This is not what he had in mind when he returned to Mount Hua, even after his death.

He was so overwhelmed by what he was feeling and thinking that he felt unable to look up. Finally, Hyun Jong continued,

"What you have gone through from the past to the present is really tough, but this disciple of yours is just taking it all without knowing anything about your suffering. Not even the peak of Mount Hua can show our gratitude for your struggle and sacrifice."

"Sect leader! Please raise your head. I don't deserve..."

"Even so .."

"...!"

"Even so... I, no, we and all the disciples of Mount Hua are really happy that you decided to come back to us."

Decided to come back.

Ah... why hadn't he ever thought of that?

Coming back from the dead was probably not within his power, he didn't know why it happened.

But back to Mount Hua, that was the path that he had chosen to take.

He recalled what he had gone through during the great war against the Magyo that he had gone through. A hundred years had passed for the people. But for Cheong Myeong, it was not too long. Six years is not a long enough period of time to forget his own mistakes.

He did not expect anything from Mount Hua when he and his Sahyungs and Sajils left it at that time. There was no expectation of a return with power, wealth, or glor.  The only thing they had in mind was to be able to return to Mount Hua.

After all, even if he had to become a person who deceived the entire world, he who was the most selfish and shameless person in the world would still choose to return to Mount Hua.

"With utmost happiness and gratitude, we welcome you home, dear Plum Blossom Sword Saint."

Home.

A word that rarely crossed his mind. A word that now somehow felt so warm that tears fell from her plum blossom eyes.

"Haha..." Cheong Myeong chuckled, trying to look responsible, but he couldn't hide his beautiful eyes that started to fog up with tears.

'These people, the place where we are right now is not even Mount Hua.'

This was Sichuan, and to make matters worse, this was the residence of the Tang family. This place was definitely not the Mount Hua that they were all familiar with.

But somehow, he still felt as if he was back at home.

What exactly did Mount Hua mean to him? Cheong Myeong couldn't describe it with words either. For Cheong Myeong, Mount Hua was everything. It was his whole life, his home, his breath.

Mount Hua is a place he can return to.

Cheong Myeong wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. His body suddenly felt so light.

Why was he so scared? Why did he think of so many things and reasons to make his head explode? It wasn't him at all.

Because both then and now, there was one thing that would never change, one reason that would always allow him to return.

That he is a Mount Hua diciple.

That alone is more than enough.

With the same smile he had on his face when he greeted Sect Leader Hyun Jong on his first day on Mount Hua six years ago, he raised his hands in a sign of respect.

"The thirteenth diciple of mount hua, Cheong Myeong, has returned to the sect and greeted the sect leader of Mount Hua."

***

The night is a time that embraces loneliness and offers peace. Something Cheong Myeong needed as he listened to the drizzling rain.  Alone, he sat by the window and thought about the life that he had lived so far. In the silence of the night, these thoughts bloomed like plum blossoms that slowly flourish in the darkness.

When the sun rises tomorrow, everything will be different. Nothing will be the same anymore. Cheong Myeong still didn't know if this current development was a good thing or a mistake. He was too scared to have any thoughts about it, so his only wish was that the night would last just a bit longer than it already did.

He glanced at the dark fragrance sword at his side. The sword that had shed so much blood in his hands and that he was sure would continue to do so for the rest of his journey. Even though Cheong Myeong never regretted the decision he made when he picked up the sword, there was no denying the fact that the weight and responsibility on his sword was something he had to bear.

There was so much that he had to accomplish, so much that he had to protect, and there was still too much that he had to fight for.

In the past, he had tried to do everything on his own. To carry everyone's hopes and expectations, to protect Mount Hua, to save the world. But he's done with that, and now he's realized that Mount Hua isn't just a place he has to protect. In fact, Mount Hua has been protecting him all along, without him realizing it.

It was Mount Hua that gave him a roof to live under, that protected him from the heat or the cold, that gave him a chance to experience life, and most importantly... that gave him the family he was never supposed to have. How arrogant of him to think he could protect Mount Hua on his own. And so, for the new life that was granted to him, with a new generation of Mount Hua, with his sasuk, his sago, his sahyung, and even the only sajil he had, Cheong Myeong started all over again to protect Mount Hua. together.

But Tang Bo's appearance, no, Tang Bo's return to him, has opened up an infinite number of new variables. What comes with being revealed as a Plum blossom Swordsman is not just an advantage like he thought.

At first, he hid his identity because he thought no one would believe a shabby beggar who came with nothing. Then he hid it to protect Mount Hua, who was not yet ready to face the world. And the lies kept piling up until he felt it was no longer important to reveal them.

Now that Tang Bo is here, he doesn't have to hide his true self anymore. He doesn't have to lie to cover up any of his old actions or habits. He is free to be himself.

But things like freedom always come with a price. Because then the weight on his shoulders, the blood that would flow from every stroke of his sword, would all carry a different weight and a different price.

The dark path he has to walk is still so long, he doesn't even know if he...

"Kiiikk!!"

Along with the screeching sound, Baek Ah appeared right in front of him.

"What the...!"

Cheong Myeong gasped. The white weasel he hadn't seen in a long time suddenly appeared in front of him, her tiny feet comfortably resting on the window frame. The plum blossom eyes blinked twice with a stupid face, making Baek Ah tilt her head slightly, confused by Cheong Myeong's reaction.

"HEY! Where the fuck were you..."

"Kiiiiik!"

Excited, Baek Ah jumps into his arms and wraps her warm fur around Cheong Myeong. Her small body bounced back and forth, going into his robe and coming out the other side.

"Oi! Stop it, you damn beast! You think I'm going to feed you like this?"

"Kiiiiiik!!!"

Baek ah finally stopped and sat on Cheong myeong's head as if that was where she was supposed to be.

Smiling a little, Cheong Myeong picked up Baek Ah with a pinch and brought her to his face.

"Why do you always come when I want to be alone, huh? You can't read the mood," he grumbled with a smile.

"I thought you were dead somewhere, I was just about to look for your corpse so I could take your fur and make a scarf out of it. Ah, is your meat good to eat?"

"Kiiiik!!! Kiiik!!!" Baek ah protested, squirming until she fell into Cheong Myeong's lap.

"Alright, alright. Your meat won't be enough for me anyway."

Satisfied with this answer, Baek ah wrapped her body around Cheong myeong to find a comfortable position.

Cheong Myeong smiled and let her go. Silence fell again. He thought his guests for tonight were done. But it turned out...

"So this meerkat is yours? Since when do you like to keep pets? And a spirit animal at that."

"...!"

Tang Bo nonchalantly stood in front of his open window, blocking out the gentle breeze that carried soft particles of rain.

'Damn it. I almost punched him out of reflex.'

Cheong Myeong did not feel the arrival of the Dark Saint at all. One of the things Cheong Myeong hates about Tang Bo's habit is that he often comes and goes without making a sound.

The Sichuan Tang family is a family that specializes in poisons and medicines, and uses throwing weapons such as needles and daggers in their martial arts. But many may not know that the root of it all is art of assassination. That's why moving silently and avoiding detection is the foundation of their footwork.

"On my way back, I saw this meerkat wandering around. I was curious why there was a spirit beast in the family residence, so I followed after it. I didn't expect it to lead me to you."

"It's a weasel, by the way, and it's not my pet."

"Doesn't look like it to me, though."

Tang Bo reached out his hand to Baek Ah, but somehow the cute spirit animal hissed angrily when Tang Bo touched it.

"Huh? Hey, do you really hate me that much?"

"She hates you, for sure."

"Tsk, I was kind enough to share my Hyung-nim with you," he grumbled in annoyance. Tang Bo turned to Cheong Myeong, "Hyung-nim, tell her something like 'he's my best friend I've been missing so much, so be nice to him' like that."

"..."

"Hyung-nim?

"..."

"What is that face? Are you going to ignore me now as well?"

Cheong Myeong looked away, "said the person who tried to kill me a few hours ago."

"Ugh... you know yourself that it's just a bluff."

"No, you didn't."

If he thought about it again, Tang Bo's words were definitely not just bluff. Tang Bo would definitely kill him if he was a stranger pretending to be a Plum Blossom Sword Saint.

Well, Cheong Myeong understands his feelings a little. Imagine waking up in an unfamiliar place, in a world you no longer recognize, in a time that is completely different. Then there is a brat pretending to be someone so precious to you, trying to deceive you, when that someone might be the only thread that keeps you sanity intact.

Would you then say, "Oh! I see! Well, let's talk about it." If it were Cheong Myeong in Tang Bo's position who met someone pretending to be his Sahyung or Tang Bo or someone from Mount Hua. He would try to kill him on the spot. It would be impossible for him to keep his cool in such a situation. Just like Tang Bo did.

Well, there is a reason why they can be friends.

Cheong Myeong remembered how the emerald eyes were full of panic, confusion, and despair, but at the same time, he had absolute faith that the figure in front of him was the Cheong Myeong that Tang Bo knew.

If Tang Bo truly believed that the Plum Blossom Sword Saint was dead and that there was actually someone else in front of him, and if he was not in Tang Zhishu's body but in his real one instead, then Cheong Myeong would have been dead by now.

But here they were. Living and breathing, staring at each other as the rain outside continued to fall harder and harder.

Too lazy to think about it any further, Cheong Myeong changed the subject. "You done with your talk?"

Tang Bo smiled and gestured for Cheong Myeong to step back a little. He then jumped into Cheong Myeong's room and sat down on the chair next to the window.

"I think that will be enough for the time being. The head of the family seems to need some time before he can come back to answer my questions."

"..."

"But I have to tell you, there's still so much I don't fully understand about the situation of the 100 years I missed, especially the years when you struggled alone without me."

"You haven't heard anything from Lord Tang?"

Tang Bo shook his head, "I only asked about the Tang family and Tang Zhushi. As for the rest of it, I am hoping to hear it directly from you."

Cheong Myeong didn't say anything as he silently stared at the man who was playing with a dagger in his hand. That dagger, it was a special dagger that Tang Bo often used to fight with when they were enjoying their peaceful life. Cheong Myeong remembered that Tang Bo didn't bring it to the war because there was only one dagger and it wasn't suitable for fighting against many enemies. But seeing that it was still in such a good and well-preserved condition, and now in the hands of this brat, there was at least one conclusion that Cheong Myeong knew.

"You stole your own family heirloom?"

"Family heirloom? Ah,this thing? So that's why the head of the family was so grumpy when I asked for it earlier... ahaha! Why are my things displayed like a museum anyway? It is better for me to make use of them, right?"

'This idiot still doesn't realize how big a gap 100 years is for them.' He thought.

"Why are you still here, Hyung-nim? Can't sleep?"

"..."

"I can help you with that, just like we used to do."

"No need."

Cheong Myeong decided to ignore him, took Baek Ah in his hands and climbed down from the windowsill onto the luxurious bed reserved for him. Then he turned around and stared at Tang Bo, who had not moved from where he was sitting.

"What about your body?"

After a moment of silence, Tang Bo replied, "Since there's no point in hiding it from you, I'll tell you. It's not very good right now."

"..."

"As you can see for yourself, there are so many colliding energies in this weak body. These energies are so great, yet they do not move in harmony, causing the body to weaken."

Tang Bo took out the pipe he used to smoke, another item he had successfully robbed from the Tang family heirloom. The smell of burning medicinal herbs then filled the quiet room, but somehow Cheong Myeong's body relaxed as he smelled the familiar scent he had missed.

Yes, Cheong Myeong missed it a lot.

Tang Bo continued, "This child, Zhushi, is the child of a branch of the family that focuses on medicine. His parents are two geniuses who have created many medicines and elixirs in the medicine pavilion, their reputation is very high and well respected by the entire family. They are even allowed to use the Tang surname, which should only be given to direct descendants."

Another puff of smoke rose.

"Unfortunately, Zhushi's body has had a weak constitution since birth. Therefore, his parents and the main family tried to help him to improve by giving him all kinds of elixirs and remedies that cost a lot of money. But unfortunately, Zhushi's ability was not able to absorb the energy that went into his body, and in the end the medicine turned into a poison that made his body even weaker."

Cheong Myeong now understands. Unlike Cho Sam's body, which was as blank as a white canvas, Tang Zhushi's body was a huge pot filled with various energies that could not be mixed like water and oil.

"I can't imagine how much pain Zhushi must have endured to keep that much energy from exploding. I'm even amazed that he could still protect his own dantian. My thought was that maybe his death was a reward for her suffering all these years."

"Then what about you?"

"Me?"

"Do you feel the pain as well?"

Tang Bo's footsteps could be heard approaching him. Cheong Myeong, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, looked up at Tang Bo standing in front of him. The light from the candles beside the bed was the only illumination that reached them.

"Don't worry too much, Hyung-nim. Even though I'm not as good as you, I can still control it so that these energies don't clench. I'm trying to absorb it bit by bit, but it's still difficult. Hmm... it might be different if Hyung-nim helps me."

"Why should I?"

"Don't play hard to get, Hyung-nim, I'm dying here."

"..."

Swoosh

Cheong Myeong remained silent as Tang Bo's hands undid his hair tie, letting his thick black hair fall loosely down his back. Tang Bo then looked at the dull green ribbon in his hand with a smile.

This ugly ribbon was nothing compared to the one Tang Bo had given him a long time ago. Cheong Myeong didn't want to waste time and money buying high-quality ribbons, and he certainly didn't have the face to ask the Tang family for them. Not after he lost Tang Bo in his own arms.

That's why he only took anything that looked green, as long as it could hold his unruly hair. Only then, even if it was not the same, did Cheong Myeong have the feeling that he was still his old self.

Tang Bo placed the ribbon on the table and lit the incense in the room, then he said quietly. "My offer still stands if you want it."

"..."

"You need to rest, Hyung-nim. That way I can calm down and rest as well. You still have a lot to tell us, don't you?"

That's right, he still has so much to do. Maybe sleeping for a little wouldn't be so bad.

"All right. Do what you want."

Tang Bo chuckled softly as he took a needle out of his robe.

By pressing on acupuncture points, there are so many ways to make a person lose consciousness. They range from making the person faint from shock, to forcing them to sleep, to making them unconscious from numbness. But none of these methods feel good. It was also the reason why Cheong Myeong was so cautious with the tang soso. If the sajil had taken out her needle, there would be nothing that Cheong Myeong or even the elephant could do to stop it.

But there is a technique that makes the recipient fall asleep very slowly, a technique that Tang Bo often uses to help him fall asleep comfortably even in the midst of war. It is like falling asleep under a willow tree with the sun shining through the leaves in the wind.

Unfortunately, for someone like Cheong Myeong, it requires 100% of his consent and willingness for the technique to be done. That is to say: He has to hand over his vulnerable body completely to someone else. Understanding his character, not everyone can be entrusted by Cheong Myeong to take care of him when he is in a deep sleep. Perhaps Tang Bo was the only one who could penetrate his defenses among the many people who tried.

Tang Bo approached and pierced the two fengchi points on the back of his neck, then he let some of his qi flow into that place and instantly his body, especially his head, became more relaxed. Cheong Myeong could feel his upper dantian becoming calmer than before, and a pleasant drowsiness slowly crept in. 

Tang Bo helped prepare a place for him to lie down, and the drowsiness left Cheong Myeong no choice but to plop down there. Cheong Myeong could still blink softly as Tang Bo pulled a blanket over him.

"There. You haven't changed at all, Taoist Hyung-nim."

"Hm..."

"And it looks like this little one doesn't want to be separated from you."

Baek ah crawled in and wrapped her body around his neck for warmth.

"I will go back to my room, have a good rest," he whispered softly.

'No, don't go.'

Cheong Myeong's hand unconsciously grabbed the long sleeve of Tang Bo's green robe, stopping him in his tracks, and then he felt a warm, soft hand gently holding his calloused hand.

"Good night, Taoist Hyung-nim. This time too, please ..."

Cheong Myeong could not hear the rest of Tang Bo's whisper. He was a little curious what this guy was saying while smiling like that.

Well... at least they have tomorrow to hear it again.

***

When the morning came, Cheong Myeong woke up to the sound of the birds chirping outside. No, it was probably more appropriate that he woke up to a damn weasel jumping around in his stomach.

"I'm really going to skin you this time," he grumbled as he got up from the bed that had the most gravity in the world.

Although it may not look like it, Cheong Myeong is a morning person. Every day, he wakes up before everyone else to train by himself, so it's not difficult for him to start the day. He always wakes up before the sun rises, so he really couldn't believe that the sun had beaten him up this time.

"Tsk, that idiot really did it." Cheong Myeong didn't know if he should thank Tang Bo for helping him to sleep so well after such a long time or if he should curse him for making him late for the training.

Cheong Myeong then looked for the hair ribbon he used to put on the side of his bed. But somehow he couldn't find it anywhere, so he searched all over the place, thinking it had fallen somewhere, but what he found was a luxury box placed on the table in the middle of the room.

Cheong Myeong picked up the box and opened it slowly.

And there it was, a beautiful ribbon in the Tang family green color, neatly folded.

Cheong Myeong took the ribbon and looked at it in the sunlight coming through the window. The fabric felt soft in his hands, and there was a faint motif of ivy leaves that made it look even more elegant.

It was the same ribbon that he had used a long time ago.

Next to it, there was a piece of paper with a handwriting on it that he recognized very well.

It said, "To the Plum Blossom Sword Saint. I still have a lot of them, so if you lose it again, you have to come to me yourself."

There's only one culprit who would do such a thing for him, isn't there?

.

.

.

Chapter Text

.

.

.

"I have something to tell you all about my situation." Cheong Myeong said as he began the conversation that morning that they had all been waiting for. 

After another day, the opportunity for the continuation of the unfinished agenda was finally at hand. In the main pavilion where the head of the Tang family lived, they all sat together and listened to Cheong Myeong, no, the Plum Blossom Sword Saint. 

Even though they had time for rest, no one could have a good night's sleep. Everyone was thinking about the reality they would face in the next day. It's all so obvious from the big bags under their eyes. 

The Cheong Myeong who was sitting in front of them now was very different from the Cheong Myeong they had known before. The way he spoke, the way he walked, even trivial things like the ribbon that tied up his hair became brighter, the same green as the Tang family color. As if to say that he was not just a petulant teenager who acted as he pleased, or a young warrior who had just spread his wings in the murim world. What was in front of them was the aura of a veteran who had experienced hundreds of life and death battles in his lifetime. 

Tang Bo was the only one in the audience who looked relaxed.  Everyone held their breath as Cheong Myeong continued. 

"I have two things to say. First, it is true that I am the Plum Blossom Sword Saint you know. And second, it is also true that I died in the Magyo War 100 years ago."

"...!"

"'Esteemed ancestor...'"

"In that case, that means..."

"I'll start with how I got here. It all started 6 years ago..." Cheong Myeong then began to tell the story of how he died in the Great War and then woke up in the body of a beggar named Cho Sam. How he traveled back to Mt. Hua and the reason why he hid his identity all this time.

"So that's what happened 6 years ago..."

"Esteemed ancestor."

"We should have known..."

The disciples of Mount Hua gritted their teeth. To hear first hand what Cheong Myeong had gone through for the Mount Hua sect in person was so different from what they had only imagined. 

"Stop it, I'm not explaining this so you can blame yourself. If you were in the same position as me, I think you would have done the same thing".

No, it's not the same. How can it be the same? 

Even if they had the chance to start over 100 times, would any of them be able to do what Cheong Myeong did in just 6 years?

Training an empty body, building a sect, training seniors and even elders to become stronger, raising his sect's name to one glorified by the entire Central Plain. Is there anyone else who is able to do all of this other than Cheong Myeong? It is his determination and love for Mount Hua that has brought them all to this point. 

"About how Hyung-nim suddenly woke up in the body of that beggar, I don't know what to say, but that experience was probably just like the one I had," Tang Bo said. Tang Bo said. Then he explained how he died and his consciousness was suddenly taken away by force and then he woke up in this period of time. 

Hyun Jong's hand shook, "Does that mean what happened to our ancestor six years ago was the work of the demon sect?" he asked, feeling anger in his chest. If Magyo was really playing around with ancestor séances, he could not forgive the insult to Mount Hua's ancestor. 

"We don't know that yet. Unlike Tang Bo, who woke up in the middle of a ceremony, I just woke up in the beggar's camp without any incident. There were no altars or strange chants around me."

"Is there really no clue? Just a little something..."

"Wait, there was an incident." Cheong Myeong murmured as he remembered something. 

"If you don't mind telling us, ...."

"Please tell us what happened."

Glup...

They could only hear the sound of their own salvia. 

"Back then..."

"Back then?"

"There's that damned beggar boy who beat my head to a pulp."

They were all at a loss for words.

"..."

"...uh..."

"Ha?"

Does it matter now?! 

But another crazy person who had just joined them had a different reaction. 

"WHAT!!? WHERE'S THAT DAMN BRAT! HOW DARE HE!!!" Tang Bo shouted angrily.

"Right! I still hold a grudge!"

"WHAT'S HIS NAME! How dare he kick you when you're off guard, when I still can't?"

"I forgot what his name was... Songpal? Dongpal? Dongryong?"

"Why did my name appear there?!" Baek Cheon protested in frustration. 

Yoon Jong raised his hand, "That... if I remember correctly, is Jongpal."

"Ah! That's the name!" Cheong Myeong's face became sour.

The elders, completely unaware of the incident, stared in confusion. "How did you know?" asked Hyun Young. 

"I... that... we and Sasuk met him by chance when we came to Shaolin a few years ago. At that time Cheong Myeo- estemeed ancestor was beating him up and we... took part in it."

Only then did the Five Swords join the conversation. 

"Oh! I remember! The idiot who made Cheong Myeongie so obsessed with the head!"

"Jo Geol! Respect!"

"oops."

Baek Cheong then realised, "Wait, does this mean that the boy hit our ancestor's head and made him... like this?"

They stared at Cheong Myeong who growled like a mad dog. Then they arbitrarily concluded that the one who made the ancestor they respected so much into the most insolent person with a strange obsession with the head was that damned Jongpal. 

"We shouldn't let him go so easily!"

"We should hang him upside down on the cliff."

"Let's go find him after that." Even Yu Iseol was ready to pick up her sword. 

"Children..." Hyun Jong reprimanded them. Hyun Jong's voice sounded different than usual. Looks like they've made a scene again. 

"My apologies, sect leader."

"We got carried away."

"No, just... make sure you bring it to me."

Grtt!

No one dared to say anything when they saw the gentle Hyun Jong squeezing his hand until his veins were exposed.

If Cheong Myeong's anger is like a catastrophe, then Hyun Jong's anger is the end of the world. 

'Oh shit...'

'He fucked up, didn't he?'

'He is dead.'

'Amithaba...'

"ekhem!" Tang Gunak put a stop to the whispers and murmurs in the room. He sighed softly, ‘This is Mount Hua, what can he expect? Settle it peacefully? Impossible.’

"Let's get back to the topic." He said as he looked at Cheong Myeong and Tang Bo. "Do we really not know how to deal with this?"

Cheong Myeong was silent as he tried to remember one clue after another that might help him. 

All this time, he had only thought about it alone, he had no one to talk to about it. This was the first time he tried to get out what had been in his head and haunting his dreams during the night. 

"There's actually one more thing." 

"We're listening."

"Do you remember when we first met Magyo at the Ice Palace in the North?" 

Images of the horror and madness of fighting Magyo to save the heir of the Ice palace years ago came to mind.

"Yes, we remember."

"At that time, I faced the Bishop alone, who also performed a ritual that I believe was similar to what we faced yesterday. I never spoke of it because the words he gave me bothered me." His eyes darkened as he remembered how he had beheaded the corpse that had failed to become a heavenly demon vessel. "We managed to stop the ritual then, but he said that they had done the same ritual before. And he seems to think that the previous failure was me. He recognized me as the Plum Blossom Sword Saint."

"So... that means..."

"It's likely that what happened to Tang Bo and me is the same. And all of this leads me to believe that the Heavenly Demon has also returned to this world." His voice trembled with a dark expression. 

"But if that's the case, why are you in Cho Sam's body and not at the ritual place?"

Tang Bo, who listened silently, finally said, "This is just a guess, I don't know anything about dark rituals or anything like that, but I think there are certain requirements for the summoned spirit to land in certain vessels."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you can tell by the bodies we've possessed, right? The Cho Sam body you're in is so similar to the one you were in 100 years ago. Your eyes, your face, even your hair, everything is so similar that I can recognize you right away." 

"..."

"And this child named Tang Zhushi, what do you think Hyung-nim?"

"It's like an exact copy."

"Right? If the qi energy in his body wasn't so chaotic, I would have thought that I had returned to my original body when I was a teenager."

'So this is how their real appearance looks like?'

'Hey, isn't that unfair? They're legends known for their strength, but they're also handsome.' Jo Geol couldn't accept reality. 

"So I was thinking that there might be some limitations with regard to the conditions of the spirits that they are trying to summon and the suitability of the vessel that they are preparing. For example, the spirits they are trying to summon are those who died 100 years ago on Ten Thousand Peak Mountain, and those who have great qi energy. Someone who possesses a great deal of qi, such as Cheong Myeong and Tang Bo, certainly has a greater chance of leaving behind energy remnants. "In the ritual six years ago, they tried to summon the Heavenly Demon, but it was the Taoist Hyung-nim who was attracted by them. it just so happened that the container they prepared at that time did not match Hyung-nim's energy, and you ended up on Cho Sam's body, which was the most suitable for you."

"And a week ago, they tried to perform the ritual again and it was you who was summoned. And because they used a body from the Tang family, you were able to land on that body."

Tang Bo nodded. "That's what I thought. But if they are still doing the ritual over and over again, doesn't that mean that they still haven't succeeded in summoning the Heavenly Demon?"

Cheong Myeong fell silent again. "No, if I can land in a place they didn't plan on, then the Heavenly Demon could also have been summoned and ended up in a place they didn't know. That's why they thought it was a simple failure and kept doing it."

"Why are you so sure of that?"

"He said it himself that he would return. I heard it so clearly. Even those dreadful words haunt me to this day."

"..."

"...uh..."

Without saying anything, they had to admit that Cheong Myeong was right. The Heavenly Demon might indeed be out there again. Waiting for the right moment to return and bring chaos to the world.

Hyun Jong expressed their current feelings, "I understand. Thank you for your explanation."

"..."

"We need to conduct a thorough investigation into this incident. We also need to discuss it with the Heavenly Comerade Alliance and get more information. Do you think we should announce this incident to the world?" Tang Gunak asked. 

"Lord Tang is right, the return of the Heavenly Demon might force the Central Plains to cooperate in the face of a common threat. This could be an opportunity to build a stronger relationship between them."

Cheong Myeong slowly shook his head. "It is not time yet. If we look at the current state of the central plain, only chaos will follow. We still have the problem with that damned evil sect. With the new problem, the leaders of that damned sect are either competing with each other to take the leading role in fighting this threat, or worse... pushing each other to take responsibility." cheong myeong looked at the silent leaders in the room. "That's why I had us form the Heavenly Comarade Alliance. So that we have a place where we can trust our friends with our backs without worrying about betrayal like Mount Hua did 100 years ago. "

"So all this... you've been expecting it for a long time?"

"You think I've just been drinking alcohol all year?"

"Not really..."

Although Cheong Myeong was offended, he decided to ignore it. 

"In that case, we should focus on what is in front of us for now. We can start by helping the Dark Saint recover. Mount Hua will help the Tang family with everything we can."

"Thank you for your good intentions, sect leader." Since this was indeed his top priority, Tang Gunak humbly accepted the proposal.

Tang Bo broke in, "Before that, family head, I have a question. What kind of elixir have you been feeding Tang Zhushi all this time? How come you didn't notice that his body was contracting due to the colliding elixir energies?"

"I apologize in advance, but I don't understand what you're talking about, elder. All this time, we have been administering potions and elixirs with the child's body condition in mind. Although he does not have a strong body for martial arts, his condition was in good shape until he was kidnapped."

"Hmm... that means this is all the work of the demon sect."

"Wait, I don't understand. Can you explain it?"

"You haven't thoroughly examined the body yet, so I'll just say this: there are at least 5 or 6 elixir energies colliding in this body right now. I think the demon sect forced him to drink it all in order to prepare this body for the heavenly demon. I'm keeping it stable for now, but we need to fix it as soon as possible, you know? Otherwise..." 

"...!"

"...oh my..."

"I-i-it's...! estemeed elder! You should have said that before! How could you...!"

"No-no, don't come to me. It's not as bad as you think. I can still-"

"We're going to the medicine pavilion right now!"

"Hey hey hey, can you calm down? It's not like I'm going to die now."

"Elder!"

"Haha... don't worry. We can fix this and I can get back to the front as soon as possible. I'll protect Hyung-nim's back, you can trust me. I'll bet my life on it."

Tang Bo casually responded to his family's concerns, oblivious to the figure who had remained silent without saying anything. The eyes of the people in the room were focused on the absurd conversation between the head of the Tang family and their elder, who was trying to break the tension. Only Baek Cheon, the disciple sitting in a seat not too far from the Mount Hua elders, noticed Cheong Myeong, who had a strange look on his face. 

Baek Cheon whispered to Yun Jong next to him. "Hey, what's up with Cheong- I mean, esteemed ancestor?" 

Yun Jong was also watching Cheong Myeong. "Hmm? I don't know, but I have a bad feeling about it."

"Something is wrong with him. Yun Jong-ah, did you bring mooncakes?"

"Mooncakes? I think I brought them. Hang on, let me check." Maybe it was because it was his habit to bring mooncakes wherever they went, just in case... you know.

"Sahyung?"

"What's wrong?" 

The Mount Hua disciples who had been paying attention to the elders' conversation turned to Yun Jong who was busy looking for something in his pocket. While they were busy with their business, on the other side of the room, Tang Bo was smiling lightly, trying to divert people's attention away from him. 

"Hyung-nim, which one should we beat up first? Evil sect? Wudang assholes? Or the bald guys from Shaolin?"

"..."

"Oh, I know your favorite, we can go to Zhongnam first."

"..."

"Hyung Nim?"

"..."

"Hello? Are you there?"

Cheong Myeong, who had been silently listening to people talking about trivial things in front of him, finally raised his face to look at Tang Bo. 

The man said with a cold voice.

"Hey. Are you smiling now?"

Everyone immediately fell silent. Everyone, especially the Mount Hua disciples who recognized that tone of voice, were caught up in a sense of panic. Cold sweat broke out from their temples.

"Hyu-hyung-nim?

"I ask, were you just smiling right now.."

It's not even a question anymore.

Braaak

Cheong Myeong stood up from his chair, his face looking so frightening with the veins on his head and the piercing look in his eyes.

"I've been quietly listening to the nonsense coming out of your mouth, but it seems like your brain is really left in the underworld." He said to the shocked Tang Bo, who could only freeze.

"Beating up the evil sect? Go to the front lines? Let me take your brain out of your skull so you can think, you asshole."

With his wide strides, Cheong Myeong was ready to lunge at Tang Bo, but...

"AAHHH!!! GET HIM!"

Baek Cheon ran with his sajils and quickly caught Cheong Myeong with all his strength. 

"WHAT THE FUCK! LET GO!? DON'T LET GO!!?" Cheong Myeong rebelled as his Sahyung held all of his limbs. 

"DOOOOON'T!!!" 

"YUN JONG, WHERE IS THE CAKE?"

"I DIDN'T BRING IT!"

"YOU USELESS SAHYUNG!"

"AMITHABAA!"

Cheong Myeong continued to rebel.

"ARE YOU ALL CRAZY?! LET ME GO OR I'LL THROW YOUR ASS BACK TO MOUNT HUA!"

"NOOOO!"

"HE WILL DIE! CHEONG MYEONG-AH! HE WILL DIE THIS TIME FOR REAL!" Jo geol pleaded as he clung to cheong myeong's thigh. He could not even think of the honorifics the elders had taught him this morning. 

"THAT'S WHAT I WANT TO DO, DAMN IT! I'LL KILL HIM RIGHT HERE!" 

Elder Mount Hua, who understood what they had to do, immediately surrounded Tang Bo, who still didn't understand what was happening. 

"Tang Elder, how about you come back for today?"

"It might not be a good day."

"Really, let us take care of..."

"AAAHH!" 

The five swords were easily knocked out of his body. There stood the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, no, Mount Hua Mad Dog, taking his steps towards Tang Bo. 

Tang Bo didn't understand, he didn't understand the situation in front of him at all. He had never seen Cheong Myeong with such strong emotions directed at him in his entire life.

No... wait a minute. He has seen it before.

Only once, he had seen this kind of Cheong Myeong. 

And that was when Cheong Myeong heard the news of the disappearance of Cheong Jin, his sajil, in the Great War. 

Yes, Tang Bo can remember it very well now. How Cheong Myeong's face was so full of anger, worry, fear... lost. The face that he would never be able to forget was now in front of him. It was given to him. 

No one could stop Cheong Myeong from pulling Tang Bo's collar up to his face.

"Say it again."

"Ta-taoist Hyung-nim"

"You want to go back to frontline? With a trashy body like this? don't fuck with me!"

"No, Hyung-nim, listen to me first."

BAANG

Cheong Myeong threw Tang Bo to the ground. The emerald green irises were glued to the plum blossom who was staring at him with an intense gaze. 

"Actually... why did you have to come back?" 

"..."

"I kept my promise to you to take care of the Tang family, so why did you have to come back?"

"Hyung-nim, you are also aware that it was not my intention."

"No, you wanted it. Just as I have so many regrets when I face death, so do you. Right? We so desperately wanted a second chance and this is where we end up."

"..."

"Rather than you dying at the hands of those disgusting Magyo, it's better that you die here at my hands."

"Ha... Hyung-nim, why am I so sure that I will die at the hands of Magyo?"

"..."

"You killed the Heavenly Demon in the end. The second time won't be hard."

"You didn't see it, Bo-ya. That day, amidst the piled-up corpses and the pungent smell of blood, only he stood there as if it was the way it should be."

"..."

"You weren't there..."

Only he was a witness to the horror of that time, fighting alone until he finally died in darkness. 

"In the end, everyone will leave me alone. They entrust the fate of the world to me, who can't even lift my own sword." 

"Taoist Hyung-nim..."

"I lost everything. I lost my arm, I lost my sahyung, my sajil, I lost my mount hua, I even LOST YOU!"

"...!"

"I lost you... in my own arms. I lost you ... You left me, Tang Bo-ya"

Without realizing it, his tears fell on Tang Bo's panting face.

"Since I returned to this world, I have risked everything. I practiced without rest, I rebuilt Mount Hua, I know the meaning of death, so at least I want them not to die in vain. I can risk everything because I have nothing to lose. But after I've been living here, I've come to love Mount Hua again, much more deeply than before. I want to live. I don't wanna die. I don't want to lose anyone again. I bear everything. I take care of them, train them so that they can stand on their own feet next to me. I have so much to do, so much to endure. "

"And then... you came back. You came back to me like spring. I was so happy... but at the same time I was so afraid. I was afraid that my failure would take you away from me again. I'm so scared that I feel like dying. And you .... said so easily that you would sacrifice yourself for me again?"

"No, I mean-"

"Do you really think I will be able to get back on my feet if I lose you again? No. I won't be able to take it. I can't, bo-ya. "

"Hyung-nim..."

"Why? Why did you promise to die for me? I never want that from you. Not even a little bit." 

For a moment, Cheong Myeong thought it would be better if Tang Bo didn't come back. It would have been easier if that guy hadn't come to him. Tang Bo could just watch him struggle from up there. He can do it, he's already endured it for 6 years, fighting in this world a little bit longer won't be too hard. 

But with Tang Bo's return, the man has become his strength and weakness at the same time. Cheong Myeong does not know what to do if he loses Tang Bo a second time. He wasn't sure if he could pick up his sword again. Cheong Myeong simply didn't know if he could go on with his life. 

‘What should I do, Sect Leader Sahyung?’

'This brat has really become the death of me.'

‘What should I do?’

.

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Chapter Text

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.

Ever since he was a very young boy, Tang Bo had realized that he was not a very ambitious person.

He wasn't much of a student, let alone memorizing so many medicinal plants that his tongue would go numb, so he just learned what he needed to. He also doesn't like to hang out with the children of well-known families his age, they look silly to Tang Bo. Tang Bo prefers to have fun on his own way.

He tends to be indifferent to his surroundings. However, Tang Bo fell in love with martial arts. It was the only thing that made him feel alive. Ever since he was a teenager, he had been practicing the dagger techniques and martial arts of the Tang family. He enjoyed the feeling of his growing strength until he was no longer a match for his peers.

When he became invincible and earned the title of the Dark Saint, the elders wanted to encourage him to become the next head of the family, even though he was not a direct descendant. But as expected, Tang Bo flatly refused the offer. He had no interest in being the head of a family, much less a family with as much influence as the Tang family. Such things were cumbersome. It was not his style at all. He was quite content to be promised the position of the elder in his old age and to take care of his family from the back.

In a short word, Tang Bo just wants to live his life by doing what he wants.

And that's exactly what he did. He goes around looking for strong people to spar with, plays with his cute nephews, or beats up evil sects when he has free time.

Tang Bo was quite happy with his life. He had a good and respected family, enough wealth to have a good time, and most importantly, no one could beat him and look down on him.

He was content, but bored at the same time. Was he going to spend his life like this until he was an old man? It sounded so boring that he began to worry about his future, which looked like a quiet lake with rotten water.

That was until he finally heard the news about the Plum Blossom Sword Saint.

A swordsman around his age, a new generation who had also earned the title of saint from the people of the central plain. Someone who might be able to entertain his boredom.

It didn't take Tang Bo much time or effort to find the Sword Saint. The man was notorious for causing trouble in Xi'an, so Tang Bo took it upon himself to wander around. He watched from a distance as the young man, who looked to be about the same age as him, beat up the disciples of the Zhongnam sect without even drawing his sword.

He was strong. He could tell that easily. But was that strength equal to the incredible rumor that was going around? Tang Bo was still unsure.

He had heard about Mount Hua. One of the 10 major sects that dedicated their lives and martial arts to the Plum Blossom. Tang Bo had heard that their sword was one of the most eye-catching and beautiful sword techniques among all the other sword techniques in the Central Plain. He had also heard that where the sword was drawn, the fragrance of flowers would follow.

But being from a Tang family, he couldn't really understand the Mount Hua technique.

The Tang techniques focus on efficiency, hiding, attacking by surprise, and most importantly, attacking vital points. And to top it all off, they also use poison to make sure that the enemy will be able to get up again. Well, even though the family is now too focused on their obsession with the production of poison, at least that's how the techniques of the Tang family are.

That's why Tang Bo didn't understand the Mount Hua Sword he had heard about. Very flashy sword techniques, full of tricks, with lots of feints and illusions. What's the point of showing all that if they can wipe out the enemy with a single strike? Tang Bo couldn't get it.

And again... why plum blossoms? Aren't flowers just flowers? Something that would fall easily when the wind blew or the rain fell on the ground.

After a few days of just watching from a distance, Tang Bo, who had grown tired of watching the Plum Blossom Sword Saint play, eat, and get drunk, finally took a chance.

"Are you the Plum Blossom Sword Saint? Let's have a round."

That was the short greeting he gave to the Sword Saint. The man who had just finished beating up the thugs who were attempting to blackmail him looked back at Tang Bo. The first thing he thought when he met his eyes was... he has beautiful eyes. How could someone have such bright eyes? It was like...spring.

"Who the fuck are you?" The man finally answered him, looking completely uninterested.

"Just a traveler wandering around. I heard that you're the strongest one here. Let's fight a round with me."

"And if I don't want to?" The man replied casually and took another sip of the alcohol in his hand. Tang Bo was beginning to have doubts as to whether the person in front of him was a real Taoist or just a bandit in a fake costume.

Tang Bo took out a dagger from under his robe. "I have no choice but to insist."

Surprise attacks when the opponent is caught off guard with a concealed weapon are a specialty of the Tang family. Using them is like blood in his veins, it just flows.

Clang!

But the attack was easily blocked by the sword that was now in the hands of the man in front of him.

Tang Bo wasn't surprised at all, he had expected that such a spontaneous attack wouldn't work out. But at least he was excited that the man in front of him was finally willing to draw the sword that had been hanging around his waist.

Cheong Myeong smiled irritably, "That's dangerous... you really just tried to kill me, huh?"

Tang Bo replied with a smirk.

"Alright, I'll deal with you. Let's go, I don't want my Sahyung to give me a long lecture for destroying the building again."

Little did he realize that this was the beginning of the end of his quiet life as a lake in winter.

The 13th dicipline of Mount Hua, Cheong Myeong, the Plum Blossom Sword Daint. But for him, he was Taoist Hyung-nim. That was Tang Bo's name for him after he was badly beaten in their first sparring match.

"Why would I be your brother, you crazy bastard!?"

It was a harsh rejection, but what could Cheong Myeong do? This is Tang Bo, someone who has decided to live as he pleases. Once he decided that Cheong Myeong was his Hyung, there was no stopping him.

Since that day, his world, which was as narrow as a frozen pond, has become an ocean. Sometimes it is so calm, but sometimes it creates huge waves. The Sword Saint is like a full moon that makes the surface of the water, which was once calm, full of ebb dan and flow. Tang Bo wanted to think of Cheong Myeong as his moon, but it seemed too luxurious for such a capricious figure as Cheong Myeong, so Tang Bo decided that the man would be his spring. A spring that not only replaces the winter with its warm light, but also brings an unpredictable amount of rain from time to time. An unexpected figure, an anomaly. That's Cheong Myeong.

Since his meeting with Cheong Myeong, his life has been full of color. Not only has he found a person who can keep up with him and even beat him up a number of times, but he has also found a friend who accompanies him to spend his free time doing crazy things that he could never have imagined before. At least now he no longer has to worry about how to spend his time in his old age.

But just as the ocean is ebbing and flowing, so is his life.

It all started with the movement of the demonic sect, which was getting out of control.

As fate would have it, the evil sect and the orthodox sect will continue to be in conflict with each other. Conflict, turf wars, and rivalry are all things that the Central Plains has become accustomed to when it is confronted with these two factions. But none of that compares to the chaos and desperation that the demonic sect has brought to the world.

War was inevitable. The ten great orthodox sects and the five great families unite to exterminate the demonic sects until none remain.

In terms of political position, the Tang family is almost considered an unorthodox clan. The Tang family is not Taoist. Rather, they are one of the most feared and hated clans in the world of Murim, thanks to their assassinations and the fact that they are the enemies of various factions.

As long as the demonic sect did not touch them, the Tang family might just focus on territorial defense like the other sects.

But Tang Bo is different. He was a member of the Tang family who loved his family more than anyone else.

return kindness twofold, return evil tenfold. That's the motto of the Tang family embedded in his bones.

The Plum Blossom Sword Saint needs his help, and the demonic sect deserves his revenge for touching his family.

So Tang Bo came to the frontline.

The great war was different from the battles or regional conflicts he was used to. The war was long, painful, and desperate. There seemed to be no more light or hope. All he could do was endure, while continuing to look at the back of the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, who kept advancing.

However, after such a long period of relentless struggle, Tang Bo, who was not an ambitious person by nature, had the realization that his time would not be long.

It seemed almost impossible for him to come out of this war alive. Even if he was an invincible dark saint, in the war, a soldier who could only use stones could have killed him if the conditions or situation allowed it.

The only hope left for him is Cheong Myeong.

If it was Cheong Myeong, he would have come out alive. If it's the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, then only he can defeat the Heavenly Demon and end this war. If it is his Taoist Hyung-nim, then there is still hope.

That was the reason why Tang Bo decided to give up his life. He would give anything, even his life, if it would pave the way for Cheong Myeong to escape this bottomless hell. His life now belongs to his Taoist Hyung-nim.

Even after he dies and returns to this world, his faith and determination will not change.

That is how it should be.

That's what he was supposed to say.

But what is this?

What should he do?

"Why? Why did you promise to die for me? I never wanted that from you! Not even a little bit!"

What should he do when the owner of his life is now crying for him... begging him not to give up his life.

Tang Bo reached for the hand that was now clutching his collar.

"If you come back just to die a second time, then I'd better kill you right here and now!"

The back of his hand was now soaked with tears that kept falling from those flowery irises. It reminded him of the spring rain that falls and drops the petals of a blooming flower. 

"Hyu-hyung-nim..."

"At least...at least you are here with the family you love, in the land you are proud of...not in the cold land of war...in the hands of those disgusting bastards..."

Cheong Myeong's soft voice broke his heart. Even at a time like this, this person still thought of the best for him.

"I never wanted this. I never wanted or expected that someone would die for me. No... I don't want to lose anymore..."

Tang Bo has given his life to Cheong Myeong, there's nothing he can do to change that. He will not take back his words.

But...

If Cheong Myeong, the owner of his life, doesn't want him dead... Then...

Then...

"...I will live."

.

.

"I will live... for you, Hyung-nim."

Cheong Myeong, who had been dejected, slowly raised his face. He could not believe what he had just heard.

"I will live. I am going to live just like a cockroach that can't be got rid of. I will survive even if I have to live like garbage."

Tang Bo's hand moved slowly, removing the messy hair that covered Cheong Myeong's beautiful eyes.

"If one day... the situation is no longer avoidable and my life is at stake, then I... I will run away. That's right, I will flee to the ends of the world and live like a mouse in hiding. Maybe even..." His breath caught. His voice barely came out. "I might... sacrifice you if necessary and leave you there to survive."

Tang Bo chuckled as tears fell from his eyes. "Then I will live only to mourn for you. I will mourn for you for the next 100, no, even 200 years. This time, it's your turn to watch me from above. I know you are a bitter person, so please have a good laugh at me for choosing to live my life so stubbornly like a fool".

That's right. That is the punishment he deserves. A life that makes death seem like a gift. A life worse than hell.

"But Hyung-nim... Before all this happens... I beg you."

With a sincere smile, Tang Bo bowed his head.

"Please... let me be by your side once again."

"...."

"Please allow me to be by your side, please let me be the one that you entrust with your back. Please... allow me ... to live as your strength."

That alone is enough.

Tang Bo will not ask for anything more, he will not be greedy, he will live with everything he has.

"The current me... is probably just a burden to you... but.."

His current body was so weak, let alone cultivating his Dantian, Tang Bo would probably have to start all over again.

Still, he couldn't... he couldn't just stand by and let Cheong Myeong fight alone. Even if the world and everything was against him, Tang Bo couldn't leave Cheong Myeong's side as long as he could breathe.

".. But this selfishness of mine... Please let me have it."

This was the last selfishness he could ask for.

With all the courage he had, Tang Bo raised his face.

Cheong Myeong, who was also sitting in front of him, looked at him with a look he couldn't read. He wasn't laughing with his usual smile. Nor was he crying.

Cheong Myeong was just silent, with the obvious traces of tears that were left on his face.

"Taoist Hyung-nim"

"..."

"I swear I will live."

"..."

Cheong Myeong's hands trembled. His breath and voice were choked. He wanted to run away. He didn't know how to take everything the brunette said in front of him.

Because all this time... no one had ever said that to him.

They all just believed that he was the one who was going to be able to survive, but they all never said that they were going to be there to be with him.

And Cheong Myeong also knows that Tang Bo's words this time might just be a beautiful lie that might never come true.

But still, this time... Cheong Myeong wants to believe it.

He wants his struggles, his suffering, all his hard work to be worth it, so that the people he cares about can continue to live even if he is not around. He fought so that the people he cared about could be happy. All this time... in his heart, Cheong Myeong just wanted to believe that everything he had done for Mount Hua... for the world... was not just a vain sacrifice.

'Sahyung... I think I'm getting weak.'

Cheong Myeong wanted to believe... that there was someone who, because of him, was going to keep fighting to live.

"If you can't keep what you promised, I'm fucking going to beat you up."

"...!!"

Cheong Myeong gave a small snort as Tang Bo froze.

"Please say it again..."

"I said, I will..."

Tang Bo squeezed Cheong Myeong tightly with his body, making the sword saint chuckle as he no longer had the strength to free himself.

"This time you have to live... for me."

"I promise."

And Cheong Myeong closed his eyes. It was as if the entire weight that had anchored him had been lifted.

He didn't know what awaited them in the future, nor did he know what to do with the warm feelings stirring in his heart. But for now, Cheong Myeong just wanted to cherish his time.

When he opened his eyes once more, he was finally able to see the mess he had made of himself. His flower-colored eyes wandered, realizing he had become a spectacle.

He had no idea when it was, and he had no idea how. The Mount Hua disciples, even the elders and sect leaders, were crying as they looked at him. He wanted to laugh at Jo Geol's face, which now looked so ridiculous.

"What are you all doing!?"

Tang Bo's voice startled them all. Cheong Myeong had a surprised look at Tang Bo, who had been holding him in his arms.

"This will all be useless if it's just me! All of you! Promise the Plum Blossom Sword Saint that you too will fight to stay alive!"

"...!!!"

The words echoed deep into their souls.

"We... we are..."

"Esteemed ancestor..."

Cheong Myeong snorted softly, "All of you..."

"CHEONG MYEONG!!!"

"MYEONG-AAHH!!!"

"YOU BASTARD!!!"

The five swords, the monk, the elders, and even Baek Ah, who had come out of nowhere, all rushed to hug him and cry in unison.

"Ugh... wait! You guys...!" Cheong Myeong was instantly crushed under the weight of people who didn't realize their weight.

"Myeong-ah... I promise I'll live well. Huaaa!"

"I... I'll live until I have great-grandchildren!"

"Don't worry, Cheong Myeong-ah! We'll be with you! Sob.."

"We will train hard, get stronger and live a long life with you!!!"

"Sajil... not alone."

"We won't complain during training anymore!"

"I will work hard!!!"

"Esteemed ancestor I... I..." Even the sect leader could not hold back his tears.

They cried their hearts out. But amidst all this...

"MY BABY!!! HOW MUCH YOU SACRIFICED!!!" Hyun Yeong's cries overwhelmed them all.

Cheong Myeong had no idea why he was in the middle of all this. He glanced at Tang Bo who was giggling while still hugging him. This bastard is enjoying all of this.

"Hyung-nim. We will all live with you, so don't fight alone anymore."

When Cheong Myeong heard this, he just smiled in resignation.

"Let me, no, let us be by your side."

Cheong Myeong smiled and returned the hug, "Do whatever you want."

***

After a morning that had been filled with chaos, the night that came after seemed so calm with the moonlight that was peeking through the clouds.

Cheong Myeong was sitting on the roof of the pavilion that had been lent to him. His black hair moved gently in the breeze. He looked up at the moon just above his head.

"Sahyung... Cheong Jin."

The two names fell from his lips.

To be honest, Cheong Myeong can no longer remember their faces. His memory is getting fuzzier and fuzzier, and as time goes by, the faces of the people he misses are no longer able to be depicted clearly.

All this time he was afraid... that one day he would not be able to remember them. He was afraid that he would be left all alone in this world.

But at least for now...

"Don't worry... now there's one more person that will remember you here with me."

So it's okay. It will be okay.

"Hyung-nim!!!"

Someone called out to him from down there. Cheong Myeong didn't have to guess who it was. Only one person in this world would call him that.

"I got it!" Tang Bo came waving two bottles of wine in his hand.

Cheong Myeong chuckled softly, "Did you go to Xi'an just to get it? What took you so long?"

 Tang Bo landed smoothly on the roof, "After they thoroughly examined my body, the head of the family went to meet the elders and started the meeting. So I couldn't help but search his office myself for this." He then took out a pair of glasses for the two of them.

Cheong Myeong watched as Tang Bo poured wine into their glasses. It had been a long time since he'd used such expensive glasses, and Cheong Myeong usually drank straight from the bottle.

Cheong Myeong took the glass and inhaled the aroma. There was no mistaking it, this was the Tang family treasure hidden by the Tang Gunak. "What about the results?"

"They will start to helping with my recovery tomorrow. They'll help me gradually absorb the elixir and balance my energy at the same time."

"..."

"But it will take a long time. And it will also depend on how the meeting of the elders goes today. They will decide how to accept me. Whether to keep me alive as Tang Zushi or as Tang Bo returning from the dead, it will all be decided by them."

"It's a meeting that will decide your life, and you're freaking drinking here?"

"This is not my time or my generation. They are the ones with the understanding of the current state of the world. So naturally it's better that I drink with you here".

Cheong Myeong mumbled, "Well, you don't have to think about it."

"Hm?"

The Sword Saint remembered the current situation of the Tang family. After helping the Tang Gunak with a little show by defeating one of their elders, the absolute power was now held by the head of the family. In the end, it would all come down to Tang Gunak's decision.

Well, Tang Bo doesn't need to know anything up to that point.

Cheong Myeong took a sip of his drink. "Khh... I'm alive again."

"Ahaha..."

"They have their eyes on me and won't let me have a drink, those little brats."

"They care about you. I like the current Mount Hua."

"Hmm."

"Even though they look like bandits, they're good kids. I didn't expect Hyung-nim to finally take on disciples though, you didn't torture them did you?"

"'Disciples' huh? They're not my disciples."

"... Is that so?"

"They are the most stubborn Sajil, Sahyungs and Sasuks I have ever met."

...

Tang Bo was left speechless out of disbelief at what he had just heard.

"Hyung-nim... you..."

Cheong Myeong gave a cheeky smile, "Tang Bo Ya. I'll show you..."

"...the new Mount Hua."

.

.

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Chapter Text

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.

.

"Fuck. How do I start this?"

Cheong Myeong frowned.

Last night, he had rashly said that he would introduce the new Mount Hua to Tang Bo. But if they were like this... how the hell was he supposed to do it?

The Plum Blossom Sword Saint looked at the Mount Hua disciples, his Sasuk, and his Sahyung sitting on the floor of the Tang Family's Medicine Pavilion. They were sitting on their knees before him like good disciples waiting for orders from their elders.

Cheong Myeong hated this. Everything reminds him of his shitty days as Elder Mount Hua. It makes him want to go down the mountain and play around instead of taking care of the disciples.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to think about me and just act normal with me?"

".."

"..."

"No answer?!"

The Mount Hua disciples just stared at each other. They signaled for others to answer Baek Cheong Myong before the madman went berserk. Finally, Baek Cheon had no choice but to raise his hand to ask for permission to speak.

"Speak!"

"It's... not that we don't want to... but..."

"But what? Huh? Speak properly!"

Baek Cheon tried to shake off the urge to shout at the Sajil - no, at their ancestor.

'At least say that while acting like the youngest. You bastard!'

How could they when Cheong Myeong, the one who asked to be treated as their sajil again, was now injecting qi into Tang Bo, the Tang family elder, to fix the chaotic qi flow in his fragile body. Okay, if that's all, they shouldn't be surprised, but if Cheong Myeong does it while chatting like he's sitting in a tavern, that's another story.

Only divine masters of qi control can do things like talking while injecting their qi. And this bastard was doing it while chatting?! Once again, they realized that this person sitting in front of them was not just their youngest sajil, but an elder, an ancestor in martial arts comprehension, whose level was far away in a place they could not reach.

Baek Cheon is an exemplary disciple. He became the role model for both the Baek and Cheong lines. He knew and mastered all the manners and respected the hierarchy in the sect. Therefore, even though his brain and heart wanted to obey Cheong Myeong's request or perhaps 'order', his body automatically stiffened when he realized that the one in front of him now was the living legend, the Plum Blossom Sword Saint.

"If that's too difficult, just pretend that I'm... Cho Sam who somehow got the memory of your ancestor. Or... I get possessed sometimes. Or I'm... a monk who became enlightened."

"You don't even believe in Buddha," Hye Yeon said.

"The point is, it's up to you which one you choose, as long as you don't have to act so stiff around me."

To be honest, that did make it sound a little bit easier for them to adjust. Instead of seeing Cheong Myeong as the Plum Blossom Sword Saint himself, they treated him as two different people. But is it that easy?

"Well, I think I can do that."

Jo Geol's innocent words drew all their attention.

"It's not like he became someone else all of a sudden, is it? We've been living with him for about 6 years, and this isn't the first time he's acted like a gramps."

"Well... That's true. But..."

They all stared at Jo Geol in awe.

Among all of them, Jo Geol has a unique relationship with Cheong Myeong. He was the first to 'welcome' the beggar boy into the sect. He was the first to be beaten up by the new boy, and he was the first to realize that Cheong Myeong would bring change to Mount Hua.

"But what are we going to do about the elders, not to mention the the sect leader? They'll kill us if we treat the cheong myeong like that."

Once again, the mood became somber. It wasn't as simple as they made it out to be.

"Pffft..." Tang Bo, who had been listening, finally couldn't contain himself anymore.

"Quit giggling and concentrate, you little shit. This is all your fault!"

Tang Bo pouted and concentrated on controlling his qi again.

After his body was examined by the Tang family physicians, Tang Bo was helped to restore the qi in his body. But out of all the people, it was only Cheong Myeong who was able to help him in the most effective way.

Cheong Myeong connects his qi and separates the clashing energies in Tang Bo's body, and after the energy is separated, Tang Bo carefully absorbs it and flows it into the correct pathways in his body.

It's been an hour since they did this, an incredible amount of concentration to see them doing it so casually, but even Cheong Myeong still has time to argue with his Sahyung.

After a while, Cheong Myeong removed his hand from Tang Bo's bare back.

"That's enough for now, we'll continue in the evening."

"Alright~" Tang Bo replied as he put his clothes back on.

Tang Bo turned to the Mount Hua disciples who were watching the two of them. The man smiled kindly. 

"So, Mount Hua disciples, how about you guys? Have your examinations finished? I haven't paid much attention in the past two days, but I remember you guys being beaten up in that demon sect's cave."

"Ye-Yes, Elder. We recovered well."

"Soso helped us change our bandages. Tang Family's medicine is also very effective and very helpful.

"Who is Soso?"

The questionable figure sitting in the back revealed her face. "This is me... Elder."

"Ah! The daughter of the head of the family, right? You visited me a few times when I was locked up to deliver food and clothes. May I call you A-so?"

"Yes? O-of course, Elder. You can call me anything-"

Slap!

"Ow!"

"Stop it, you idiot! You look like a 17-year-old snot-nosed kid and the owner of your body is a distant cousin who used to call her Noona. She's also my samae, don't try to be so intimate!"

"That's mean! All members of the Tang family are basically my grandchildren now. You know that!?"

"Since when do you care about getting along with your family?"

"Hyung-nim, I may not have been very fond of elders in my day, but I love children. I'm the best granduncle they could find in the entire Central Plains."

Of course, Cheong Myeong knew this. No matter how upset Tang Bo was with his elders, no matter how much he tried to stay out of the Tang family's political life, Tang Bo always liked to spend time with the children in his family, even though he never had a family of his own.

"Still, you should pay attention to your appearance before you act like that."

They all stared at Cheong Myeong with dead expressions.

'Of all of the people in the world, you are the one who has the least right to say such a thing.'

Tang Bo, a person with a true grandson-loving family spirit, could not compromise with Cheong Myeong. After all, it was only a week ago that he reached the 100th anniversary of his death.

"What is wrong with treating grandchildren as grandchildren?

"Just because you are such a gramps, don't bring that habit with you over here. The situation is already too different from back then!"

"You are even older than me, Hyung-nim!  Have you no shame in acting like a child?"

"Who looks more like a child here, you or me?"

"That's not fair!"

"Since when did I become a fair human being, you brat!"

The Mount Hua disciples watched their trivial argument. It was strange to see Cheong Myeong acting so familiar with people outside of their sect. And for some reason, even though Cheong Myeong tried to be aloof and they never stopped arguing, Cheong Myeong seemed to be ... having fun.

It was as if some of the weight he carried had been lifted, allowing them to slowly peeks into Cheong Myeong's heart.

Jo Goel whispered to Yun Jong. "They've been talking non stop about grandchild or being a grandpa, but actualy.. how old are they?"

"Uh.. Since even an elder calls him 'Hyung', how old is Cheong Myeong really?"

Baek Cheon joined in the whispering. "But 'hyung' isn't always used based on age, right? That bandit from the green forest also called Cheong Myeong hyung because he was beaten up so badly."

"That ... not wrong either."

"Who wants to try (voluntarily) to ask?"

No one is willing to put their neck on the line for a sleeping tiger.

"Sasuk, asking someone's age is rude," said Soso, who was listening.

Yu Iseol nodded in agreement.

"It's not like they are unmarried women."

Jo Geol replied, "But unmarried women are not as scary as they are."

Is the issue of age something that sensitive these days? Baek Cheon scowled and did not understand at all.

Tang Bo suddenly turned back to them.

"Anyway, I see that you guys are really getting along with this hyung, in many different ways, of course. diciple these days must be very brave. I've only known two people in Mount Hua who could get along with him for as long as I've known him. He is a difficult person, isn't he?"

"You-"

"But don't worry, if you need something to shut him up, I have everything you need. I know where he hides his alcohol, dont know the cave is still there or not tho. I can also tell you embarrassing things about this Hyung. Which story do you want?"

"Huh! You sold me out just to get close to the kids!? very mature of you!"

"What? Don't tell me he's been keeping his image in front of you all this time."

The Mount Hua disciples all shook their heads violently at the same time.

'Absolutely not!'

Ironically, in their eyes, Cheong Myeong's reputation was only between 0 and 100. Nothing in between.

Tang Bo immediately laughed, "Look at that! At least you haven't changed at all, Hyung-nim!"

The Mount Hua students were stunned as Cheong Myeong cursed Tang Bo while the 'young man' laughed without care. This was the first time... they saw someone who could tease and bully Cheong Myeong while the bastard couldn't do much with a slight blush on his cheeks from embarrassment.

Immediately, the nickname "Dark Saint" in their minds turned into 'holy saint'. He is the real saint. A radiant figure who came to the dark world under the reign of Cheong Myeong.

'Saint...'

'True saint...'

They are already determined to be on the good side of elder Tang Bo for the sake of survival in the future.

Tang Bo noticed the bandages wrapped around Cheong Myeong's upper body that were visible through her clothes.

"Hyung-nim. You didn't change the bandage this morning, did you?"

"The wound is dry already."

"It still needs to be changed! Hurry up and take off your clothes, I'll help you change it. A-so, can you help prepare the supplies?"

"yes! Right away!"

 Soso skillfully prepared supplies and medicine to change Cheong Myeong's bandages. Cheong Myeong, under pressure from the two most fussy Tang family members he knows, could only surrender and began to take off his top.

They all noticed how Tang Bo's hands moved smoothly to remove the bandages wrapped around Cheong Myeong's body while humming a little. It was as if what he was doing was an everyday thing that they were used to. There was no awkwardness when Tang Bo gave Cheong Myeong a little instruction, or the discomfort that Cheong Myeong sometimes showed when someone treated him.

But that fact ... didn't sit well with them.

No matter how many times they saw it, the fact that Cheong Myeong was used to being hurt, and that it was much more than they had imagined, would never feel right to those who saw it.

"You sound like you're enjoying it." Cheong Myeong looked at Tang Bo who was applying ointment to his wound.

"In my last memory, I couldn't call your body a human body because of all the scars. Compared to that, the you sitting in front of me is like a white canvas. Your qi flow is extremely pure, your body has no fatal scars, and your muscle mass is well balanced. You're healthier than all the memories I have of you from the past 10 years."

"..."

Tang Bo wrapped a fresh bandage around Cheong Myeong's shoulder. He silently watched as the faces of the Mount Hua disciples darkened after hearing his words.

As expected, they were still just kids.

"Hyung-nim, if you don't mind, I would like to ask you something."

"... What is it?"

"Yesterday... you said that you lost your arm when you fought the heavenly demon. Which one?"

They all became suffocated as soon as they heard the question from Tang Bo. Their hands clenched into fists, squeezing their clothes until they looked like they were about to tear. 

Is it something normal to ask this question? Is it a common question for people who have returned from the war?

Unexpectedly, Cheong Myeong answered the question honestly.

"... The left one."

Tang Bo's hands paused for a moment before continuing his work.

"How come you ... lost your dominant hand? And you killed the Heavenly Demon with your right hand?"

"Mn."

"If you can even defeat him with your non-dominant hand, maybe that idiot isn't that great."

"Tang Bo." Cheong Myeong's voice stopped Tang Bo, reminding him not to say more before he crossed the line.

"I'm sorry Hyung-nim. I was just trying to lighten the mood, you know?"

"..."

The emerald eyes fell on Cheong Myeong's left arm this time.

"Is that why you are holding the sword with your right hand now?"

The Plum Blossom Sword Saint didn't answer. And for Tang Bo, that meant the same as 'yes'.

"Wait, what was that?"

Baek Cheong's voice broke the silence.

"Left-handed?"

"Cheong Myeong, are you left-handed?" Jo Geol stared in disbelief.

None of them believed it.

"It seems that neither of you are aware." Tang Bo was a little surprised by their reaction. But it was understandable.

"How were we supposed to know?"

Not to mention the left hand, they only found out Cheong Myeong's true identity 2 days ago!

And that changed everything.

Ever since they met Cheong Myeong, he had been using his right hand for self-defense, eating, and even simple things like picking out food stuck between his teeth.

 There is nothing, not even the slightest hint, that Cheong Myeong is actually left-handed.

"To be fair, I can use both hands equally well. Right and left are the same for me."

Tang Bo rolled his eyes and was immediately hit by Cheong Myeong.

"You can because you are forced to, in the end you return to your left hand."

"Hmph!"

Tang Bo didn't miss the curious eyes of the youths in front of him. He smiled mischievously.

"Do you want to hear a little bit about it?" He offered. Telling stories about the greatness of his Taoist Hyung-nim was one of his favorite activities besides martial arts and alcohol.

They nodded loudly in unison.

"Please!"

The story of the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, which they had never heard of and which no one knew about, they were eager to find out. Completely forgetting that the figure turned out to be their Sajil.

"I see. I guess after 100 years, the details of the Plum Blossom Sword Saint's abilities have not been passed down very well. Then I'll be happy to tell you about it. Sit down properly and bring in some snacks!" Tang Bo said excitedly.

"Why are you the one to tell them about it? I, the real person, am here!"

"Whether you downplay your own story or exaggerate it, you're not known for your honesty Hyung-nim. So let your dongsaeng take over."

Aish, Cheong Myeong really wanted to hit this damn bastard.

"Alright! So we can all agree that the Plum Blossom Sword Saint is the best swordsman in the central plain. Right?"

They all looked at Cheong Myeong and were immediately greeted with his trademark grin.

They couldn't really say that Cheong Myeong was the strongest in the Central Plains right now, but the Plum Blossom Sword Saint? Even though they had never seen that figure fight in person, they all believed it in their hearts.

Plum Blossom Sword Saint is the strongest.

"But how do you think he was able to get to that point? Just by being strong? There are some people who are stronger. Techniques? Mount Hua Sword Styles are great techniques, but they're not the best for all situations. Then what about his qi? Let me tell you, even though his qi is beyond logic, he's still a person who wasted his time when he was young."

"Yak!"

"That's a fact. And look, they don't seem surprised."

Cheong Myeong felt a sense of betrayal as the kids just nodded their heads in understanding.

Tang Bo cleared his throat.

"Plum Blossom Sword Saint is a great swordsman, but not many people know that he's left-handed. As you know, I almost always lose when sparring with Taoist Hyung-nim, but when I managed to persuade him to use his left hand against me, I'm proud to say that I 'only' almost died."

Sparring.

Almost died...

Only?

"Is that something to be proud of?" Yun Jong asked cautiously.

"Of course it is. Because if it's someone else, as soon as the Sword Saint uses his left hand, his head will be cut off. So I'm not trying to be arrogant, haha! And I have many stories about it.

Tang Bo finally starts telling Cheong Myeong's story to the Mount Hua disciples, who are listening with great excitement. And Cheong Myeong listened with a feeling of nostalgia as word after word was spoken by Tang Bo.

***

Cheong Myeong couldn't remember what his parents looked like. From what the elders of Mt. Hua had told him, he was found at the gate of Mt. Hua on an autumn day. Under the blue sky, he was laughing and playing with the dry leaves blown by the wind. Maybe that's where his name "Myeong" came from.

Cheong Myeong, who was taken care of by the Mount Hua sect, lived with Cheong Line's disciples and grew up with his sahyung and sajil. Seniority in the sect is calculated according to who joined first, so even though Cheong Myeong has more sajils than sahyung, he is still the youngest.

He was known as a mischievous and troublemaking child, but perhaps because he was raised in a sect, seniority and hierarchy were deeply ingrained in him. As a result, although he was often a headache for the sahyungs who looked after him like a big brother, he was a fairly obedient child in front of the sasuk and people higher up in the hierarchy.

His martial arts talent was evident from a very young age. From the time he could walk and understand instructions, Cheong Myeong was ordered to attend basic martial arts training. Although he often skipped training, his talent shone through over time.

But then Mount Hua ran into trouble.

Cheong Myeong was born left-handed. And Mount Hua at that time was a sect that taught one-handed sword techniques that focused on the right hand.

Not that it was impossible for Cheong Myeong to grow up to be a warrior.  Unfortunately, the Mount Hua of that time did not have enough experience to train a left-handed warrior. Although there was no requirement for all students to become the all-powerful Plum Blossom Warrior, or he could have stayed at Mount Hua and filled many positions that might suit his talents, his martial arts talent was too outstanding and too precious to be buried like that.

For this reason, they finally decided to train Cheong Myeong with his right hands.

It was difficult at first, and young Cheong Myeong was tormented when he had to change all his habits, from holding chopsticks to his reflexes when picking ripe plums from the tree. There were times when he whined and refused to use chopsticks and used his hands to eat. But perhaps because he started so young, it was not difficult to train him.

Following the instructions of the elders, Cheong Myeong began to live with his right hand. He can still use his left hand, and sometimes he is invincible when quarelling with his sajil because his right and left hands are equally strong.

The days passed, the moon rose and fell, the seasons changed, and the years passed like a whisper on the wind. And Cheong Myeong managed to become the new star of the Central Plain.

It was when Cheong Line was still in his early twenties that he was nicknamed the Plum Blossom Sword Saint.

To be honest, even to his own ears, the nickname sounded ridiculous. What kind of saint lived like this? But as long as it made his Cheong Mun Sahyung happy and didn't bother him when he wanted to go drinking, Cheong Myeong was willing to play along. To please the elders so they could brag about him to the other sects.

But like most second grade disciples, he eventually faced a wall that blocked his path.

Although Cheong Myeong remained the strongest, he could see that his progress was slowing down. It was like being at the top of the rugged Mount Hua. He made it to the top, but when he got there, there was nothing but the sky above him and the abyss around him.

Should he stop here? There was nothing left to chase or reach for.

That's when his days became more and more boring. Visiting the city, eating good food from his Sahyung's allowance or stealing it from bandits, drinking until morning.

No one can stop him as long as he doesn't cross the line and Cheong Myeong enjoys his life enough.

Then, one ordinary day, something changed his life. 

It was an ordinary day when Cheong Myeong beat up the bandits waiting on the mountain. After beating up the bandits, Cheong Myeong threw a stone on the surface of a small, calm lake.

"Eight... eleven... fourteen... Ohoo! It bounced 14 times! You know what that means, right? Add 14 slaps."

Bak! Slap! Slap!

The bandits, who had the misfortune to meet a demon more ruthless than the evil sect, slapped each other 14 times, leaving their faces bruised and snot running down their cheeks.

Cheong Myeong laughed out loud as he ate his snack.

Right, what does it matter if he's already on top? He's still the strongest! Hahaha!

Cheong Myeong picked up another stone from the shore of the lake and was ready to throw it.

'This is getting boring, huh... Should I try something new?'

Cheong Myeong moved the stone to his left hand and began to aim.

It had been so long since he had used his left hand that Cheong Myeong was a little confused as to how much power he should use to create more bounce.

But as soon as the stone slipped out of his hand, not a single bounce was created.

However, there was a loud noise followed by what looked like a huge wave from the bottom of the lake.

BOOM!

"Huh?"

The bandits immediately felt as if their souls were about to be drained from their bodies.

"HIIIKKK!!! Forgive us! Dojang, please forgive us, we promise to repent!"

"I have children to feed!"

"Dojang! We'll live well from now on!"

Cheong Myeong was still fixated on the direction of his throw, obviously making the perfect angle for the pebble in his hand to bounce off the water. His calculations had never been wrong.

But what was that? It was like a spear slipping from his hand.

"Is it because I rarely use my left hand that I have too much energy in it?"

No, that's not possible either. Even his qi flow is normal right now.

So what really happened?

"Dojang, forgive us!"

"dojang!!!"

"Dojang!!!!"

"AISH!! YOU'RE MAKING TOO MUCH NOISE! LEAVE QUICKLY AND MAKE SURE I NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN!"

As if escaping from the tiger's clutches, they thanked him and disappeared from sight.

Cheong Myeong's hangover disappeared instantly. Now, his gaze focused on his left hand.

Cheong Myeong can use both hands equally well, whether he's eating or beating someone up. But Cheong Myeong had never thought of using his left hand to hold a sword.

Cheong Myeong took out the sword he was carrying, it had been a few days since he last used it for training. And as the sword moved to his left hand, the weight of the weapon felt foreign, yet it feels right.

Cheong Myeong swung his sword a few times, trying to think of a difference from the way he used his usual Mount Hua sword.

The first thing he noticed was the stance. Using the left hand meant a different stance. The supporting foot, the center of gravity, the flow of power... it would be like standing in front of a mirror.

The swordsman felt goose bumps all over his body.

Is this the answer he was looking for?

It was as if he was teetering on the edge of a cliff with no way out. There was no other way he could find, and the only way up was to pierce the sky above his head.

***

"taoist hyung-nim"

Cheong Myeong's daydream was shattered when Tang Bo tapped his shoulder.

"You're daydreaming."

"Ah, right. Where are the kids?" Cheong Myeong realized that the medicine hall was now empty.

"The sect leader called them."

"Really? Then me too..."

"But Hyung-nim wasn't called. It seems there are things that need to be discussed without you."

Cheong Myeong didn't like hearing that. Why was he excluded like this? But if it was the sect leader's decision, he had no reason to question it.

"Are you done with the storytelling?"

"Tsk! I knew you weren't listening."

"...."

"You should have seen their faces when I told them about our adventures. Their expressions were no different than a five-year-old listening to a tale of legends."

Actually, for many reasons, not many people talk about his skills as a left-handed swordsman.

He was the one who desperately wanted to restart everything he had learned in his life and changed his martial arts to master the sword in his left hand. Using the left hand presented him with several challenges as a swordsman. Lack of coordination and control, the need to relearn footwork and timing as different body angles and positioning are required for left-handed attacks.

There was also a significant learning curve in terms of muscle memory and balance, and the process was mentally and physically demanding. It almost drove him crazy. But it was also thanks to this that he was finally able to break through his barrier and fly up into the sky.

His left hand had always possessed a natural strength and dexterity, sharper and more precise than his right. The angle of his attacks was no longer predictable, his movements always one step ahead of the enemy's defenses. Each strike came with newfound power, faster and more deliberate, slipping past their guards in ways no one could anticipate.

The shift in his dominant hand opened up a whole new range of possibilities, turning combat into a dance in which Cheong Myeong led and his opponent struggled to follow. Unpredictability became his greatest weapon, and in those moments, Cheong Myeong always remained calm, calculating, fully aware that this sudden switch had tilted the odds heavily in his favor.

It was an advantage he rarely showed, one he kept hidden until it was needed. He never used it even in official duels. Because when he used his left hand, it was the moment his opponent's neck was severed. On the other hand, in a war of life and death, no one cared if he used his right or left hand, or even his teeth. The only ones who come back to tell stories are those who alive.

That is... the true Plum Blossom Sword Saint.

The power that Cheong Myeong still doubts whether he can get it back or not.

Cheong Myeong clenched his left fist as Tang Bo spoke softly.

"Hyung-nim..."

"Mn."

"... Does it hurt?"

The man with the flower colored eyes paused for a moment and then asked, "what is?"

"When you lose... your arm. Does it hurt?"

Ah, he should have known that this question would come. Tang Bo was always thinking about unnecessary things.

Cheong Myeong gave a small smile. "No. I think my whole body was so full of adrenaline that I didn't feel the pain at all."

Tang Bo massaged his left arm. He could feel the hard muscles that were hidden under his black clothes. Then the Tang elder asked again,

"Then .... does it still hurt?"

'Does it hurt that you don't want to use your hand anymore?'

Actually, it wasn't just once or twice that they almost lost a limb in the middle of the war. But to be honest, he never thought that it would actually happen to Cheong Myeong when he went away first.

The Sword Saint turned his head to the window behind them, which showed a green scenery and a bright blue sky.

"It doesn't hurt. But..."

The emerald eyes looked at Cheong Myeong, "...but?"

Cheong Myeong closed her eyes, "Sometimes I just... can't feel it. It's like this arm doesn't belong to me. It's like it's a foreign object attached to my body."

"..."

Tang Bo turned his attention back to the hand he was holding.

He had heard of people who felt that their body parts didn't belong to them, or vice versa, people who felt body parts that shouldn't be there. But instead of a physical thing that could be easily treated, it was a psychological disorder for which there was no cure.

Did his Hyung-nim feel the same way? Had he suffered from something he didn't understand either, to the point where he couldn't lift the sword with his left hand?

"I know it sounds strange. You don't have to think about..."

"It's not weird." Tang Bo laughed quietly. "Not weird at all, Hyung-nim."

"..."

Cheong Myeong let Tang Bo squeeze his left hand tightly. Letting him try to give her strength and maybe support. His palm felt warm and soft, unlike his hands, which were rough and full of calluses from training. Cheong Myeong also noticed that Tang Zushi's hands were clean, unlike those of the Tang family members who were blackened by poison. It reminded him of Tang Bo's hands in the peaceful days of the Central Plain before the Great War began.

"Hyung-nim..."

"Hn."

"Don't worry, one day you will be able to lift your sword with this hand again."

"You don't sound confident in your own words."

"I may not believe in my own words, but I believe in you. You always knew that."

And Tang Bo knows that his choice is always right. He believes that Cheong Myeong can defeat the heavenly demon, he also believes that his Hyung-nim will take care of the Tang family.

A figure who can turn the impossible into the possible.

"Your blind trust in me is sometimes annoying, you know?"

Choeng Meyong squeezed Tang Bo's hand in return, smiling faintly and leaning his back against the window where a light breeze was blowing.

Maybe this time he will try to believe in the meaning of his first name a little bit more.

Someone who will jump over the cliff to fly into the bright blue sky.

靑明. Cheong Myeong.

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Chapter Text

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The Tang family that Tang Bo had known was never one he took pride in. Their values—especially in martial arts—had strayed too far from their roots. Instead of honing the art of hidden weapons, they had become obsessed with poison. To Tang Bo, it was a cheap shortcut, not an art.

So, when he heard that he had been thrown into the future, into a world a hundred years after his death, he hadn’t expected much. He didn’t believe the Tang family would have changed. He even doubted that the family could survive as one of the five elite families in the central plain.

Especially when he saw Tang Zhan and Tang Pei’s hands blackened from exposure to poison, and then witnessed their dagger techniques that were … well, far too predictable. There wasn’t anything worth praising.

At least, that’s what he thought at first.

Until that surprising news arrived.

“The council was disbanded?” his brows shot up. “By… hyung-nim?”

“Y-yes. By the Mount Hua Divine— I mean, the Plum Blossom Sword Saint. Three years ago. He challenged the senior elder to a duel... and won,” Tang Gunak answered, unable to hide the bitterness on his face.

Tang Bo paused. Then sighed, like an old man realizing his child had taken all his words far too literally.

‘Hyung-nim… I did ask you to take care of my family. But who would’ve thought you’d tear it down to the roots...’

“But it wasn’t completely disbanded, I mean. It’s just a name now. For now, all the major decisions lie with the family head, especially external affairs. Its no longer decided by the council’s unanimous vote like before.”

Tang Bo nodded slowly. “In that case, I have no reason to worry. If Taoist hyung-nim entrusted you with leading the Tang family... then I will trust you too.”

This wasn’t just formality. Tang Bo knew that Cheong Myeong wouldn’t hand over such responsibility without a good reason. If only his hyung-nim didn't see Tang Gunak as a worthy person. Not only would he have disbanded the council. That madman would have replaced the head of the Tang family if necessary.

Tang Gunak lowered his head slightly and quietly muttered, "Elder, isn't your trust in Sword Saint a bit excessive?"

"Haha, he said the same thing yesterday." Tang Bo chuckled lightly while sipping his tea. "But what can I say? The last face I saw when I died... and the first face I saw when I came back to life... was his."

"... " Tang Gunak was at a loss for words.

From afar, the voices of Mount Hua's disciples echoed in the practice courtyard. The atmosphere is filled with energy, noise, and enthusiasm. Tang Bo gazed at them intently for a moment before shifting his attention back to Tang Gunak, his expression softening and his eyes taking on a more tranquil, measured quality.

"Family Head," he uttered calmly but resolutely, "as a part of the Tang family, I will place my life in your hands on this matter. Lead with what you believe in."

Tang Gunak was stunned. "Elder-nim..."

"I'm not planning on meeting with the council or the other elders either. This is no longer my era. You guys are the ones who can really understand what kind of world you're facing now." Tang Bo raised his cup. "Besides, I've never had any talent for Tang family politics. I probably won't be able to contribute like a typical senior elder, but I'm still committed to giving my best. However, I assure you that I will assist you in protecting and nurturing the Tang family, in accordance with my own .. unique approach."

Tang Gunak bit his lip. "Even so, the burden I must bear..."

"My lord."

Tang Gunak froze.

Tang Bo looked at him with eyes as sharp as ever, but he felt no weight of pressure. Merely an earnestness of sentiment, accompanied by a reassuring esteem.

"The road ahead will not be easy. It's not a path of flowers, and it never will be. What awaits you are sharp thorns. As an elder, my best efforts will be directed toward providing you with my full support. My lord."

Tang Gunak's hand trembled.

Not because of fear.

It was because, for the first time, he felt truly trusted.

This should have been something he was accustomed to. An elder supporting the head of the family should be natural. But for him, the head of the family who had always lived in the shadow of the Tang family council, receiving such heartfelt acknowledgment from Tang Bo, the senior elder and a figure he had never imagined meeting in person, was a shocking turn of events.

This is a blessing. No, it's more than that. This is a miracle.

Tang Gunak stood up from his chair. Then, with a formal yet respectful gesture, he bowed deeply.

"As the head of the Tang family, I, Tang Gunak, ask for your guidance, Elder-nim.

So that one day...

The Tang family could find its own spring, and this would allow them to move forward with confidence and optimism.

***

The summer sky was clear and high above the Tang family's practice yard. Even the normally cold stone floor began to reflect heat, creating a thin mirage in the distance. From behind the shadows of the pagoda, Tang Bo could see the slender silhouette of a young man sitting cross-legged. His body was calm, but an aura of pressure flowed gently around him.

Cheong Myeong opened his eyes. Sweat soaked his temples, even though he was only meditating. His complexion remained somewhat pallid, a testament to the fact that his injury had not yet undergone a complete recovery. However, his impatience proved to be far more excruciating than the pain itself.

And of course, it wouldn't be Cheong Myeong if he could go a day without moving Mount Hua's disciples to the brink of fainting.

"984! 985! 986! Move that arm, you bastard! Do you think your enemy will wait for you to take a swing?"

Cheong Myeong hurled expletives at the Mount Hua disciples, who had been ordered to perform basic practice drills with their swords once again. The reason was, of course, that Cheong Myeong had caught them skipping practice for the past three days.

"982! 983! 984!"

"Yak! Why is the count repeating again?"

"I can start counting from wherever the fuck I want! "982! 981! 980!"

"Fuck!! He's counting backwards! Sasuk its your fault!"

"Aaaarrgghh!"

Under the scorching sun, the Mount Hua disciples were sweating as if they had just emerged from a saltwater bath. Some fell down on all fours, while others were almost in tears. Cheong Myeong stood out amidst that sea of bodies with a grinning smile and narrowed eyes, like a horse that had just kicked.

Showing absolutely no mercy.

"I'll kick that bastard's ass!"

"Someone hurry and kill him!"

Tang Bo, who was watching from the sidelines, stared at the scene in disbelief.

Was Mount Hua's training routine always like this? He remembered visiting Mount Hua on many occasions and watching their students train. But he had never seen training like this, not even with the Tang family. Was it because Cheong Myeong was in charge? Come to think of it, this was the first time he saw Cheong Myeong train his students. But honestly, rather than training them, it looked like he was torturing them.

Now he understood why the Cheong Mun sect leader had never urged Cheong Myeong to take on his own disciples—he was definitely going to kill them.

"Have they always been like this?" Tang Bo asked Tang Zhan, who had accompanied him to watch from the sidelines.

"To be honest, I don't know. But maybe you can imagine what kind of training my noonim went through to end up looking like...that," Tang Zhan said, pointing at Soso, who was sparring against a man who looked like a bandit. If he's not mistaken, his name is Jo Geol.

Well, it seems Tang Bo can imagine a bit.

The women of the Tang lineage were strictly prohibited from acquiring knowledge of the family's sacred arts, and they were neither prepared nor equipped to assume leadership roles or to serve as combatants. The most they could learn was self-defense, poison making, or medicine. But Tang Soso, the daughter of the family patriarch, broke all those stereotypes. She became a swordswoman under Mount Hua. More than that, she became a disciple of his Taoist hyung-nim, the Plum Blossom Sword Saint.

"Hehe..." Tang Bo tried to cover up his snickering with the large sleeves of his robe.

This turned out to be more satisfying than he thought, and he was pleased with the result. He wanted to show it all off to the old-fashioned elders of his era and slap them in the face.

"It's almost noon, A-Zhan. Go tell the servant to bring them drinks."

"Understood. What about you Elder-nim?"

"I'll be the sage who saves them from the demons." Tang Bo said as he walked to the practice arena.

"998! Just one more time! 999! 999! 999!"

"Aaaaargh!"

"You son of a bitch!"

Cheong myeong, who was the center of where the swearing of the Mount Hua disciples was directed, grinned like a madman. Right, this was much better than them respecting him too much and unable to look him in the eye.

He lifted one hand high, preparing to count the last one. "All right, one thou—"

"One thousand!"

Tuk!

A light fumi landed right on top of Cheong Myeong's head. He looked up and was greeted by a grin.

Behind him stood Tang Bo, his body wrapped in a soft, dark green robe like spring dew. His shadow blocked the sun from Cheong Myeong.

"What are you doing?" he asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Me? Being a savior."

Tang Bo swept his gaze over the Mount Hua disciples, who were flopping around like dead fish out of water.

"Go sit in the shade while you wait for the cold drinks to come," he said.

Cheong Myeong pulled his robe, “Oi! Who are you to tell my disciples what to do?”

"Oh, come on. It's not like you're going to have them duel right after training, is it?"

"..."

"…You wouldn't."

Cheong Myeong made a face that said, ‘What's wrong with that?’

"You're kidding." A soft chuckle escaped from Tang Bo, and his expression morphed into a exaggerated display of fear. It turns out he really is a madman!

"Hey! Kids, run away from here while I distract this demon!" Tang Bo gave an order, and the disciples of Mount Hua who were running away immediately thanked him.

"Oi! Get your ass back here! " shouted Cheong Myeong, throwing a wooden sword that almost hit Baek Cheon. The wooden weapon pierced the stone wall like a giant spear.

"Are you trying to kill me? You insolent sajil!"

“Judge for yourself!"

The man with emerald eyes chuckled again and casually placed his chin on Cheong Myeong's head, which was still in a cross-legged position. "Do you hate them or love them? Is this what they call a complicated relationship between a disciple and their master?"

"Shut your mouth."

"Come on, you need to cool down too. I'll get some snacks ready."

He lightly patted his best friend on the shoulder. Tang Bo tried to pull the swordsman's arm, urging him to follow him to the pagoda where Tang Zhan was providing refreshments.

Cheong myeong didn't budge an inch when Tang Bo rubbed his shoulder, but when the word "snack" was mentioned, he jumped to his feet like a Jiangshi detecting fresh Qi. "If you put any more poison in there, I'll beat you up."

"Haha, take it easy. I only do that when we drink together. My poison is special, just for you, hyung-nim."

Cheong myeong found himself at a loss as to whether he should be grateful that his sahyung would not be poisoned or whether he should curse at this psychopath. "this brat.."

They approached the pagoda, where Mount Hua disciples were scattered on the floor like casualties of war. Some leaned against the pillars; others lay on their backs, staring at the ceiling of the pagoda.

"Ugh... Sasuk, The training here is not as tough as at Mount Hua. But why are we more tired than usual?" Jo Geol groaned, his breath coming in short gasps.

"There aren't any boulders on my back, but my body feels like mud," Baek Cheon replied. He closed his eyes and tried to normalize his breathing.

"My muscles are slow to respond," said Iseol, who crossed her legs and began to breathe deeply.

Tang Bo only chuckled softly.

"The air here is more humid and warm. You have become acclimated to the elevated temperatures characteristic of high-altitude environments, prompting your bodies to exert double the effort to regulate temperature and fluid balance."

Cheong Myeong shrugged and put his black robe back on. He checked his sword and commented. "You're used to taking short, quick breaths when training at high mountain altitudes. When descending the mountain, though, the wrong breathing rhythm confuses your body and causes you to over breathe." Cheong Myeong wore a mocking grin. "You can't even breathe properly. It's still 100 years too soon for you to beat me."

The disciples snorted in frustration, but no one dared to speak up. If not for his status as their ancestor, someone might have been desperate enough to pull out a sword.

Tang Bo's attention was drawn to the sword in Cheong Myeong's hand.

"What a beautiful sword, hyung-nim. May I see it?" Tang Bo asked casually. He was like a child asking for a candy apple.

"Hm? Sure."

Time stopped.

The eyes of all the Mount Hua disciples widened. They even straightened their exhausted bodies. All this time, no one had been allowed to touch his sword. The elders were the only ones who had been allowed to do so. Their envious gazes darted toward the two companions, but they didn't care.

Tang Bo gently pulled the blade from the scabbard. The steel surface was touched by light, which then spread outwards like a cold mist in spring. Not glaring, but clear. Cool. Calm.

"Oho~, cold steel, huh?" Tang Bo slashed lightly through the air. The sword moved like mist—without sound, but with a weight of meaning.

The metal shone calmly, not dazzlingly. It was like morning dew falling on the petals of an unblossomed plum tree.

Tang Bo fell silent. For the first time in his life surrounded by poisonous weapons, silver needles, and hard metal concoctions, he felt his hands stiffen. Not from the coldness of the steel, but from the weight of meaning carved into the blade.

"It's more than just a weapon," he whispered gently, almost too quietly to hear.

The sword's elegant lines were etched with precision, as if every curve had been fashioned by the breath of the celestial realm. On the back of the blade was a delicate carving of a plum branch covered in dew. It was visible only when light shone on it from a certain angle—like the scent of a flower that emerges silently when night shivers.

"Only the Tang family can forge with this technique, " said Tang Bo, observing the fine details along the blade's spine.

Cheong Myeong snorted. "Of course you realized it right away. You act like your family exiled you, but you still keep an eye on their work in the end."

Tang Bo chuckled and slowly turned the sword. "By the way, what's its name?"

"ng?"

Tang Bo turned his head. "What's the name of the sword? For a sword like this, it must have a name, right? Don't tell me you just call it 'the sword' or 'favorite sharp thing'".

"Well, the name—" Cheong Myeong opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Wait.

Instantly, he froze. His face got all stiff like someone who just realized they were about to sneeze in the middle of a Formal Ceremony.

Of course he could name the sword. But...

Saying its name in front of him was like reading a love poem aloud to its muse.

That name was once given by him as a form of Mount Hua's friendship with the Tang family. It was also chosen as a way of remembering his friend, who died tragically in a war, a name that was never forgotten by him.

The problem was that friend had come back to life, was sitting casually in front of him and most importantly had a tongue as sharp as a dagger when it came to teasing.

"Its name..." Cheong Myeong tried to find a way out. Unfortunately, his gaze met with Mount Hua's disciples, who began to cover their mouths, their cheeks tightening with laughter.

Tang Bo narrowed his eyes, his voice brimming with a sinister anticipation. "Yes, its name?"

Fuck it! Over my dead body!

Cheong Myeong had apparently chosen pride over everything else.

With a face red as a radish, Cheong Myeong snorted and folded his hands. "Ask the blackmist yourself. I won't say it. Not today. Not in this mortal realm."

The Mount Hua disciples who could connect the dots hid their laughter. Baek Cheon nudged Yoon Jeong's shoulder next to him. Who would have thought that a name that originally sounded so majestic wouldvsound embarrassing when confronted with the subject directly?

Cheong Myeong lifted his chin as if he didn't care. "You already know the smith," he said, trying to get the conversation back on track. His ears were still bloodshot. Tang Bo would find out eventually anyway and at least its not from his own mouth.

"Do I?" Tang Bo squinted, trying to remember. "But if he's alive now, isn't he very old?" Tang Bo tried to remember the names of the Tang family blacksmiths he knew who were middle-aged at the time. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't recall who the blacksmiths were who could make such a beautiful sword.

Tang Bo lowered his sword slowly, letting it rest in his hands. He tried to call out the names of the middle-aged blacksmiths who used to fill the Tang family workshop—men with calloused hands, faces covered in soot, and hoarse voices from inhaling coal smoke. But the faces were like pieces of glass floating in mud. None of them seemed suitable for this masterpiece in his hands.

"He's old, but not that old. He is senile, though."

Tang Bo chuckled, still trying to dig up memories of their family blacksmith. "During the war, many children helped out in the forge. It's hard to guess who became a true master..."

Cheong Myeong just turned his head, a faint smile on his lips. "It's A-Pyung. Your favorite grandchild."

Instantly, the world seemed to fall silent. Tang Zhan and Soso turned to each other, their eyes wide open despite knowing where this was

going from the beginning. Still, hearing their great-uncle's name mentioned by Cheong Myeong in such a gentle tone made it feel ... different.

Tang Bo slowly turned his head. "A-Pyung?"

"Yep."

"A-pyung, you mean... my A-pyung?"

"One and only."

Silence again.

"... Is he still alive?"

"He is. He's thriving for his age."

Tang Bo hurriedly turned to Tang Zhan and Soso as if needing confirmation. They both nodded silently but firmly.

Tang Jopyung. Their granduncle. Despite his senility, he still wandered around the workshop every day, inspecting the craftsmen's work. He would even occasionally bang on the iron, as if his old muscles refused to give up. Since completing Mount Hua's sword order a few years ago, his spirit had been rejuvenated.

Tang Bo looked back down at the sword in his lap.

"My A-Pyung … made this."

Suddenly, the sword felt much heavier. It wasn't just the metal blade. It was time. Struggle. Life. The image of a snotty little boy running between sparks and a hot furnace, wiping his sweat with an oversized sleeve—the same boy who was once in his care and is now creating masterpieces that make even Tang Bo's own hands tremble.

Silence hung between them.

For the first time in a long time, Tang Bo's heart felt warm.

It was still there. It still remained. A part of his past life—a life he thought had been buried on the battlefield—was now finding its way back into his present.

Tears almost fell.

Almost.

Tak!

A flick landed right on his forehead.

"Aww!!! What was that for?"

Cheong Myeong stood up lazily with his arms crossed. "Why are you crying? He's still alive, so just meet him."

Tang Bo was stunned. The words were simple but hit him like a slap in the chest. Yes, of course. They could meet. They had to meet.

"However... is it possible for me to do that?" he whispered gently. "With the way I look now, he won't recognize me."

Cheong Myeong turned his head, his expression hard to read, somewhere between pity and annoyance. "What are you talking about? He recognized me. Why wouldn't he recognize his own grandfather?"

Technically, what Jopyung recognized was the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, but despite a little misunderstanding, it was still him. As for Tang Bo's appearance now, perhaps Jopyung would be a little confused by how much younger he looks than the Tang Bo he had always known, but no matter how you look at it, it's Tang Bo.

"But like I said earlier," Cheong Myeong said, staring off into the distance, "he's senile, so his view of time is distorted. When I met him, he recognizes me as the Plum Blossom Sword Saint who said he stopped by Sichuan to see his elder. "

He sighed softly.

"He might be confused at first. But as long as you come with confidence and be yourself, the hundred-year wait will mean nothing to him."

Cheong Myeong could imagine the old man crying at the thought of Tang Bo making it home from the Great War.

"Take the sword with you," he said, turning around. "It needs repairing, anyway."

Tang Bo didn't have time to answer when Cheong Myeong suddenly grabbed the back of Jo Geol's robe, who had fallen asleep leaning against a pagoda pillar.

"HUEKK!!!"

Jo Geol almost vomited on his collar, but Cheong Myeong didn't care. The Mount Hua disciples immediately got up.

"Let's continue training!" he shouted without turning around. "And you will duel with me,sahyung. khehehe."

"NOO! You mad man!"

Tang Bo still sat where he was, letting the shadows of Cheong Myeong and the Mount Hua disciples drift away as they squealed and groaned over the next exercise. The noise faded, replaced by the sound of the wind gently sweeping between the pagoda pillars.

His hand slowly caressed the blade of the sword in his lap as if touching something other than metal—like time itself. His unfocused gaze was not on the carved plum branch imprinted on the sword's back but on the faint image of a little boy covered in dust and smoke, with big eyes that always burned whenever metal glowed in the furnace.

"A-Pyung, that little boy... now making swords like this?"

Tang Bo lowered his head, his lips twisting into a small, melancholy smile. Behind that smile was a complicated feeling that even he had trouble naming.

He felt pride, of course—how could he not? —and a deep, quiet warmth that could only be described as being moved. But beneath it all, a thin veil of regret lingered, as delicate and elusive as the curl of incense smoke.

Not regret for what was done, but for what was missed. Regret for the moments that slipped by unnoticed and unspoken. For the quiet truth that no one truly knows how much they’ve changed or who they’ve become.

He looked up at the sky and let the afternoon sunlight fall on his face. "A-Pyung, you're really alive," he murmured, as if it were a prayer.

Tang Zhan approached silently and stood beside him. His gaze was full of understanding. "He'll recognize you, Elder-nim," he said softly. "Maybe not with his eyes, but definitely with his heart."

Tang Bo didn't answer. He just nodded slowly and chuckled—not his usual witty laugh, but more like a sigh that finally found its way out after being held in for too long.

He looked back down at the sword in his hand and whispered barely audibly,

"Wait for me, A-Pyung."

For a moment, the world felt calmer.

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Chapter Text

The streets of Chengdu are no longer the same.

Tang Bo walked down the narrow alley toward the Tang family workshop, his steps steady yet weighted, as if he were a swordsman trying to recall a long-forgotten technique from his youth. However, the lines of that technique had faded, washed away like footprints in the rain.

Back then, the air was filled with the smell of fresh poison and iron fumes. During wartime, this narrow street was frequented by dagger makers, poison hunters, and hired couriers carrying death letters. Now, he saw the tea shop on the left, where the children of the branch family laughed while playing with wooden daggers that could not actually hurt anyone.

His eyes narrowed.

"If these children had lived in my time, they would have been returned to their ancestors," he muttered, sounding half bitter and half amused.

He walked further, passing an ancestral temple that stood proudly, defying time as if no war had ever burned the world. Its arched roof towered, clean and polished every morning by generations who had never touched a battlefield. The ceiling soared high—too high, as if to keep the dead spirits away from the hustle and bustle of a now peaceful world.

Inside, the name plaques of the family elders were neatly displayed. The wood carvings were smooth, each name sanctified by slow-burning incense, like silent time passing. But Tang Bo's steps halted when he saw a single board on the left side of the main altar. His name hung majestically there, chiseled in gold ink on ebony, standing in line with the names of the heroes who died in the Great War a hundred years ago.

Tang Bo stared at it for a long time. Silence clung to the nape of his neck like the shadow of war that no peaceful rain could wash away.

What were they thinking when they hung their names there? Was there sorrow?  Or shame for the stubborn elder who chose to die on the front lines?

Did they secretly harbor shame for the stubborn elder who chose to die on the front lines? Or did they simply look down in silence, considering it a mistake that didn't need to be discussed?

Tang Bo didn't know. And that was even more painful than any answer.

Behind him, Tang Pei—whose body was much larger than Tang Bo's—followed him from a distance with hesitant steps. He had been ordered to accompany Tang Bo after Tang Zhan was summoned by the patriarch to report. His face showed his nervousness. Though he didn't say anything, Tang Bo could tell the young man was trying hard to make his breathing less harsh in this place.

"What do you think, A-Pei?" Tang Bo's voice was calm, but his eyes were fixed on the plaque. "Do you like the current Craftsmanship Neighborhood?

The distant clanking of hammers sounded rhythmic, orderly, and clean. There were no panicked screams or pungent scents of burning iron. The atmosphere was too serene. Too peaceful. Too neat.

Tang Pei looked unsure. He chose his words carefully, knowing that one mistake could cause history to repeat itself. He certainly didn't want to become the target of the Elder, who had no hesitation in beating up his father, the current head of the Tang family.

"I... I'm not familiar with what the craftsmen were like in your time," he said quietly. "However, at present, the Tang family's artisanal skills and armament manufacturing are among the finest in the whole Central Plains. Perhaps the most honorable."

Tang Bo nodded slowly but said nothing. He touched the edge of the plaque for a moment before pulling his hand back.

"Is that so?" he finally said, almost in a murmur.

Once in front of the Tang family forge, he stopped. It looked even grander than he remembered. There are more students, more equipment, and more... orderly.

He entered quietly, holding a sword in his right hand. The smell of metal was the same, but it no longer felt hot and wild; now, it felt like a working museum.

"A-pae."

"Yes, Elder-nim.

“What was Taoist hyung-nim doing when he came here?”

"Back then, he and the Mount Hua disciples brought cold steel and asked our family to make swords for all the Mount Hua disciples. At first, Grand Uncle refused to make swords for other sects. He said the Tang family's craftsmanship was only for family use. But after some ... negotiation, he finally agreed. "And the great-uncle, the master swordsmith, crafted the divine sword himself for doja- i mean the sword saint."

"That's not what I asked. What did Taoist Hyung say when he met A-Pyung?"

"Uh...that..."

Tang Pae was there when it happened, of course. Almost all members of the Tang family were mobilized to channel their qi into forging so many swords. Needless to say, the sight of Cheong Myeong—the con artist at the time—would never be forgotten.

"Actually, it was my granduncle who recognized him first—or maybe it was a misrecognition. His memory is a little hazy, after all." Tang Pae recalled how his elders seemed to recognize, then forget, then recognize again the Plum Blossom Sword Saint. "But back then, we didn't really care about it."

"Hmm, then?"

"Like I said, Grand Uncle initially refused to forge a sword for Mount Hua, but Cheong Myeong Dojang took advantage of his senility and pretended to be the sword saint to order him to make a sword."

Tang Bo recalled what Tang Gunak had said a few days ago: that Cheong Myeong often caused trouble and had once pretended to be the Sword Saint to deceive others.

"He... shouted... 'A-pyung!!! Where is A-pyung!!!"

Tang Pae tried to imitate Cheong Myeong's brash tone as best he could.

...

Tang Bo stared dumbfounded.

"Then he said something like, 'This brat! Can't you recognize me anymore?! It's me—"

"—The Plum Blossom Sword Saint!" Tang Bo said simultaneously. He laughed and said, "Right, that's how he is."

Tang Bo stared at the door in front of him. "Should I do the same?" he muttered, imagining himself acting as if he had just visited his grandson two weeks ago.

But, honestly, he doubted he could pull it off.

He imagined opening the door in Cheong Myeong's noisy style, shouting as if no time had passed. Maybe he could call out, "A-Pyung! You brat! Why don't you come get me? Are you showing your grandfather a sign of disrespect?"-with a loud voice, a high pitch, and an easy smile.

But just imagining it made his tongue feel stiff.

Tang Bo lowered his head and grasped the hilt of the sword he carried. His fingers trembled slightly. Not from fear, but from not knowing who he should be when the door opened. An elder? A hero who died and came back to life? Or just an old man who didn't know what to say to his grandson?

He took a breath, and then he let it out.

The clanging of hammers could still be heard in the distance, but not like thunder calling for war. Rather, it sounded like temple bells guiding a peaceful life.

He found himself rooted to the spot.

"Fool," he hissed to himself. "Why are you such a coward now?"

He chuckled bitterly.

Cheong Myeong would break down this door without a second thought. But Tang Bo just stood there like a shadow, unsure of its right to reappear in the light of a changed world.

He took a breath and pushed the large door open.

The workshop inside wasn't much different from the ones he was used to—but that's what made things so odd. The large workbench in the center of the room was still standing strong. It was covered in scratches, patches of old metal, and small hammer marks. In the corner, the large furnace where they used to forge swords now burned with a quieter, more orderly flame. There were no more bursts of heat or cries for cold water or spare metal. Only the sound of coals sizzling softly remained.

The shelves along the walls displayed weapons that looked like works of art.

Tang Bo stopped in the center of the room.

And in the corner, an old man squatted. He was rubbing a dagger with a whetstone.

His shoulders were hunched slightly as if he were carrying the weight of many years, but his hands remained steady and his movements were purposeful. His greying hair at the temples was tied back. It was secured with a worn band of cloth. This left a broad, wrinkled forehead. He wore the Tang family's work robes, with the sleeves rolled up high to reveal aged, sculpted muscles from a hard life as a blacksmith.

The sound of the grindstone scraping against the steel blade was low but steady, splitting the silence with a soothing, almost mantra-like rhythm. His eyes were penetrating yet melancholy as he gazed at the blade as if it were something much more than a weapon. There were memories, stories, and wounds.

The air around him smelled of metal and warm smoke. It smelled clean, like a workshop that had long since made peace with the past. Jopyung seemed like a part of the room—silent and timeless.

His breath caught. The image of the little boy who always followed him around asking for candy instantly shattered.

The Tang family elder, Tang Jopyung, raised his wrinkled face. His gaze was still sharp when he spotted two young men in the Tang family's elegant robes standing at the door of his workshop.

The little boy who used to run around the workshop carrying a hammer twice the size of his head. The whiny boy who used to hide under his robes whenever the sparks got too big. The stubborn boy he scolded almost every day—and who slept every night hugging the hilt of their first homemade wooden sword—was now standing before him.

And now...

An old man, his body frail, his hair all gray. His hands still worked, but more slowly and laboriously. His back was bent.

"Who's there?" His hoarse voice sounded firm amidst his confusion.

"... "

Tang Bo swallowed. For some reason, his chest felt tight.

It wasn't because of Jopyung's age—a hundred years was a long time, he knew that. But because of the harsh reality that time goes on even when you stop.

He tried to smile. "Jopyung..."

Jopyung looked up briefly, then went back to sharpening his dagger as if Tang Bo were just a shadow or a passing guest.

Tang Bo laughed softly and blandly. "Right, yes. Back then, you were only eight. Now you're older than me."

There was amusement behind the bitterness. It's a strange feeling when your grandson turns into a grandfather, while you yourself remain as you were or even younger now. But the amusement quickly vanished, swallowed by the silence.

Tang Bo wanted to call him again. He wanted to say, "It's me, your grandfather." But he was tongue-tied.

What would be the point? What would he say if Jopyung didn't recognize him?

Would he explain everything? About the war? About death? About coming back?

Or should he just let Jopyung live quietly without knowing that someone from his past had come to visit him?

But he was more selfish than he thought.

"A-pyung?" he called softly.

The old man raised his head. For a moment, his eyes seemed blank and misty, like a dew-covered window. Then, a beam of light appeared in his eyes, and his gaze rested on Tang Bo.

"Grandfather .... Elder...?"

His voice was hoarse and brittle, like crumpled dried leaves. It was enough to make Tang Bo hold his breath for a moment.

He tightened his grip on the sword, solidifying his resolve. He prepared to open his mouth to greet her as he had before.

But before he could utter a word, Tang Jopyung scrambled to his feet and dragged himself toward Tang Bo.

"Grandfather!" he cried, his breath catching. "S-sob... Grandfather!

His frail body trembled as he collapsed in front of Tang Bo, his arms wrapping tightly around his legs. He was like a lost child who had finally spotted his parent in the chaos of a battlefield.

Tang Bo froze.

"The other warrior said you...you're not coming back..." Jopyung murmured, his voice trailing off. "But I knew! I knew you'd come back. I waited in front of the workshop every day."

Tang Bo could only stare at the broken old man before him, who was whimpering like a child.

Jopyung’s voice cracked under the weight of confusion; his words were tangled in a storm of past and present.

"Everyone says you're dead, but I know they're lying. They're lying!"

Tang Bo looked down slowly. His hand, once strong and never hesitant, now lifted carefully and touched Jopyung's head, now covered in gray hair and wrinkled skin. Yet, he still felt like the little boy he once was.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting," she whispered.

Jopyung hugged him tighter, shivering. "You're home, you're home... finally..."

Beneath the warmth of that embrace, Tang Bo closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the pain of lost time.

***

A few minutes passed after he and Tang Pae helped Jopyung up and seated him in a more comfortable chair. Tang Pae left to prepare tea and snacks. Tang Bo feigned obliviousness to the fact that Jopyung was observing his features with keen scrutiny.

"Grandfather, You look much .... younger?."

Tang Bo laughed awkwardly. "I gained enlightenment during the war, you know?" Tang Bo tried to avoid Jopyung's gaze, realizing that, even with rejuvenation, he shouldn't look like a seventeen-year-old.

The old man nodded in understanding. "Indeed. I've heard of such things happening to martial artists." His expression softened. "As expected of a Dark Saint. The most important thing is that you returned in good health."

"I heard you have become a master blacksmith."

"What are you talking about? I only forge for my family."

"Don't humble yourself like that, A-Pyung. Only a master could forge such a beautiful sword." Tang Bo stroked the sword he had been carrying.

Jopyung's gaze shifted to the sword's hilt, which featured a plum blossom symbol. His memory was blurry, but he would instantly recognize his own masterpiece.

"Plum Blossom Sword Saint. Is he visiting again?"

"Well, he came because of the Magyo attack in Sichuan. Now he is resting."

"That damn Demonic Sect," Jopyung grumbled, his brows knitting together. "They never stop messing with and inconveniencing our elders. You must be in a lot of trouble, Grandfather."

Tang Bo laughed bitterly. "I have to admit, there are one or two things I'm still grateful for that haven't changed.

'Including the part where, thanks to that whole mess… somehow got dragged back to life.. So, thanks ... I guess?'

Tang Bo leaned in and handed the sword to the swordsmith.

"Hyung-nim asked me to bring it in for repair," he said quietly.

Jopyung's calloused, wounded hand carefully accepted the sword. He unwrapped it and stared at the blade as if he were reunited with a long-lost child.

"The blade needs to be sharpened ... and the grip leather needs to be replaced. What exactly did he do after only a month of wearing it?" Jopyung frowned in surprise. "I will prepare the best materials to repair it."

Tang Bo nodded, holding back a smile. Based on what he had heard from Tang Pae, this sword was made at least three years ago. "I'm sure you already know what you have to do."

Jopyung sighed softly, then nodded deeply.

His old body moved quickly—or at least tried to—as he unpacked box after box in the corner of the room. Dust flew, metal grains rolled, and old papers rustled like a small fire burning.

He looked like an eager, impatient child who wanted to show his parents what he had learned. His wrinkled hands trembled, not because of his age, but because of the passion boiling in his chest. His eyes shone with a rare fervor, like embers that had not been extinguished despite decades of dust.

Tang Bo watched in silence. He could not take his eyes off his grandson's every move. Then he called out softly but heavily, "A-Pyung."

"...A-Pyung."

"Yes, Grandfather?" Jopyung turned his head, still busy unpacking the last box.

Tang Bo held his breath for a moment, then asked, "I was told by Taoist hyung-nim to ask you about the name that was given to this sword. Do you remember?"

He paused. It wasn't because he doubted Jopyung's intelligence; it was because he had seen how fragile the limits of his grandson's memory were. The past and present had blended together. Distinguishing between the two was probably no longer something his beloved grandson could do.

However, Tang Jopyung stopped instantly. He slowly turned his head, and his face tightened. It was as if something had knocked on the door to his mind.

"Name..." he muttered. "Of course I remember it. The Sword Saint Elder will beat me up if I forget." He smiled a small, bitter smile. "If I'm not mistaken..."

He stared ahead, not at anyone, but at the space inside his head.

"...Dark Fragrant Plum Blossom Sword."

Tang Bo blinked.

That name was like a temple bell, striking once and echoing throughout his body.

***

"PUHAHAHAHA!!! What the heck happened to your eyes!?"

Cheong Myeong's laughter exploded. It echoed all the way to the ceiling of the Medicine Pavilion.

That afternoon, he had come back to help Tang Bo stabilize his chaotic qi flow. But as soon as he saw the boy sitting quietly, waiting for him, with eyes swollen as big as two steamed buns, he collapsed emotionally and physically.

Tang Bo just looked down in resignation.

"It's your fault!" he exclaimed in a flat, vengeful tone.

"HAHAHAH!!!" Cheong Myeong had to hold onto the pavilion pillars to keep from falling.

"Stop laughing! This is not funny!"

"You—oh, shit—people must think you keep qi sacs underneath your eyelids!" retorted Cheong Myeong, almost out of breath.

Tang Bo narrowed his eyes as best he could, but his eyelids were already too heavy for him to protest seriously. "Hyung-nim, A-Pyung gave me some new needle sets as a gift. Don't make me try them on you."

The subtle threat was enough to make Cheong Myeong fall silent for three seconds.

One thing he had learned from years of being friends with Tang Bo was that his threats should never be underestimated.

"Damn ...okay, okay. I'm done," he finally said, rubbing the corners of his eyes. "Phew, that was a good laugh. Khehehe..."

He sat down next to Tang Bo, still smiling like someone who had just tasted the best wine of the year.

"So, how's A-Pyung?"

Tang Bo sighed and looked down slightly. "He's healthy. Senile, but healthy. We talked a lot. More exactly, I listened to his rambling stories that jumped around in no particular direction. Sometimes he forgot who I was in the middle of a story he started himself, but other than that, he was fine. Oh—and he said you can pick up your sword tomorrow."

"Hm." Cheong Myeong rested his chin on his palm. An annoying smirk graced his face as usual. "Then why are you crying so much? Aren't you too old for that?"

Unlike his original face, Tang Bo's youthful face now carries traces of Tang Zushi—smooth and almost innocent. However, when combined with Tang Bo's signature expression, the result was strangely captivating.

Cheong Myeong tilted his head slightly, unsure whether he was annoyed or… distracted.

' Tsk, With a face like that, even sworn enemies might forget their grudges—at least for a moment.'

Not knowing what is in Cheong Myeong mind, Tang Bo chuckled softly, remembering his emotional outburst a few hours ago.

"I don't know," he murmured softly, twirling the fumi between his fingers. "It's just that, when I hear the sword's name, everything I've been holding back just floods out.

And when Tang Bo said everything, that was everything.

The fear of time that had changed everything. The happiness that exploded silently because he could still see this world once more. The regret that lingered like a shadow for choosing to leave and the sadness of his absence. More than anything, there was a silent wish he had once dared not speak: a wish to stay.

It all blended together, was contracted, then exploded and spilled out.

About his life, his death.

About the Tang family, A-Pyung, and the lingering past.

About Cheong Myeong —who, after he was gone, left behind someone who never stopped longing for him.

Tang Bo glanced at the man beside him, who was still watching him quietly. His eyes were as sharp as always, but a faint tenderness shone through. The color of his irises was like the plum blossoms that never fade.

"I didn't know you were such a sentimental person as to name your sword after me," he murmured, half teasing.

"Remembering a dead friend is not sentimental." Cheong Myeong looked away.

"Yes, it is."

"People who say they'll mourn me for 200 years if I die are more sentimental," he said, flicking his forehead.

"Aish... Why do you like flicking my head so much?!"

"Because your current body isn't strong enough to withstand my punches?"

"Are you saying that when I recover, you'll beat me up?"

"What, you thought I was just spouting nonsense this whole time?" Cheong Myeong's voice carried a teasing lilt, soft in the stillness.

Tang Bo looked at him briefly before shrugging casually. "Well, I'm looking forward to sparring with you again, hyung-nim."

He smiled briefly before Cheong Myeong added in an equally casual but stinging tone, "But with your current body, training with scarecrows would be more useful than sparring with you."

Tang Bo glared at him.

"Your recovery and development still have a long way to go," Cheong Myeong continued, looking away and holding back a smile. But his eyes dimmed momentarily—because he knew all too well what it was like to be so weak after having been at the top. Even he still had a lot to accomplish. "You know what I mean. Neither of us is strong enough to protect anyone right now. That's why..."

He looked back, his plum blossom irises sharp and determined. "Hurry up and recover. Only then can you fight beside me again."

"Hyung-nim... I—"

Tuk!

It wasn't a flick this time. Just a small object placed gently on top of Tang Bo's head. Tang Bo squinted and raised a hand to grab the item.

It was a hairpin.

It was the color of a young plum blossom and had black engravings that resembled a flower that hadn't yet blossomed.

"You gave me a ribbon yesterday, so… consider this payback." Cheong Myeong said quickly as he stood up. Afternoon light streamed in from the window, creating long shadows on the floor and a faint reddish hue in his ears. Very faint. But it was visible enough to the eyes of a martial artist used to catching details in an instant.

Tang Bo chuckled softly. "It's a quite decent design."

He twirled the hairpin in his hand for a moment before slowly untangling his hair. His soft brown hair fell briefly. Then, with a light, natural motion—as if he'd done it many times before—he tucked the hairpin between his strands.

His fingers paused briefly at the edge. The wood was smooth, lacquered—not something made in a rush.

And the weight... just a little too balanced.

This wasn’t handmade.

So he must be bought it.

Of course he did.

"But I think I liked the old one more."

"But you always said it looked like a twig," Cheong Myeong grumbled, sounding annoyed. He had spent his break traveling around Chengdu just to find that hairpin, and he'd even gotten into an argument with the vendor to ensure he wasn't being ripped off.

Tang Bo replied casually, "True, but you made the old one yourself. I like that one better."

Cheong Myeong furrowed his brow. "It's your own fault for losing it on war”

"Well… technically, the hairpin wasn’t the only thing I lost in that war."

Tang Bo stared at Cheong Myeong with that annoying expression that always made Cheong Myeong want to punch something.

Finally, the Sword Saint gave in.

"...I'll make another one when we get back to Mount Hua."

"Fufu..." A light laugh escaped Tang Bo's lips. "In that case, I'll wear it well for the banquet tonight." He could have teased further, but he'll have to wait until another time.

Cheong Myeong gave a small snort. "Whatever."

But he didn't tell him not to, and he didn't say anything else.

Tang Bo knew that was more than enough.

He adjusted the hairpins in his hair, then lowered his head slightly, letting the strands protect his suddenly exposed face.

He knew that hairpin was not just a replacement. Only someone like Cheong Myeong would insist on choosing the shape of an unblossomed plum blossom branch. Only someone like him would walk all over Chengdu just to look for something seemingly trivial and then argue with a street vendor to avoid being ripped off. Only his Taoist Hyung-nim could hand something over in such a childish—almost petulant—manner, as if he didn't want anyone to know that his heart was also being placed with that small piece of wood.

Tang Bo touched the hairpin lightly.

This wasn't about the hairpin.

It's about the time they can't go back, about what they lost and couldn't save, and about everything they never said when they still had the chance.

And now...

Now, in their own way, they're trying to rebuild that bridge. They're not perfect warriors, but two people who are still standing in a world that has changed so much. Somehow, they're still finding their way home to each other.

"…Thank you," said Tang Bo, barely audible.

"For what?" Cheong Myeong muttered, eyes still refusing to meet his.

Tang Bo chuckled softly. "For staying the same."

He paused, then added with a teasing smile, "Still the same pain in the ass you've always been."

Cheong Myeong finally looked at him, deadpan. "You're one to talk. You still want a hairpin that looks like a twig."

"Because it's ugly and unique, just like its maker. Honestly, if someone else made it, I would’ve thrown it away."

"OI!"

Tang Bo laughed out loud, then sighed and stared at the ceiling. "Still, it's the only thing that can hold my hair back in the middle of a war. And you know, even a twig is still part of the tree. It supports the flower even before it blooms."

Cheong Myeong let out a long breath.

"If you say something like that in front of Mount Hua's disciples, I'll kill you."

"Fufu. Then you will mourn for me for another 200 years?"

"You damn bastard.." he muttered.

But he didn't deny it either.

Cheong Myeong looked at Tang Bo for a moment as if he wanted to say more, but in the end, he just snorted softly.

Then, without warning, he rose to his feet and opened the window wide. The afternoon air came in, and the warm light shone into the room, making the ends of Cheong Myeong's hair appear slightly golden. Just for a moment—then the moment was interrupted.

"Hyung-nim? Where are you going?" asked Tang Bo, raising his eyebrows suspiciously.

Cheong Myeong didn't answer. Instead, he lifted one leg onto the window frame and leaned out as if he were about to run away.

But that's not what he did.

With one quick, deft movement, he grabbed something—or rather, someone—from under the window.

A head appeared outside the window, pulled up like a radish from the field.

"AAARRGH!! IT HURTS! ARE YOU CRAZY!?" Jo Geol, the poor disciple, struggled frantically like a goldfish being lifted from a pond.

Cheong Myeong grabbed his hair in an overly skillful way.

“How long are you going to eavesdrop there? Do you think I'm not aware of you? It's 100 years too soon for you to trick me, sahyung!"

"The sect leader told me to bring you! I swear!" whined Jo Geol, tears welling up in his eyes.

Tang Bo stifled a laugh, but it escaped as a snort.

Jo Geol wanted to curse out all his life choices today. At first, he was just told to deliver a simple errand. But when he was about to knock on the window, he realized that the atmosphere in the room felt somehow ... diffrent? But who would have thought it would turn out like this?

“Sect leader?” asked Cheong Myeong, finally releasing his grip.

Jo Geol immediately fell to the floor, rubbing his head as if he were a baby bird that had fallen out of a nest. "He said he was waiting for 'the esteemed ancestor' at the northern pagoda near the small lake!"

Cheong Myeong froze for a moment.

From what Jo Geol had said, it wasn't Cheong Myeong that the sect leader was waiting for, but the Plum Blossom Swordsaint.

He slowly turned his head toward Tang Bo.

The man just sat quietly, still staring at Jo Geol with a pitying expression that was too dramatic to be believed.

"You play with the kids first. I'll join you when the banquet starts," The sword saint said, handing Jo Geol to Tang Bo.

"I'm sure I won't be bored for a while," said Tang Bo, lightly stroking Jo Geol's throbbing head.

"Elder-nim!" Jo Geol almost cried again, either out of gratitude or from his headache.

Cheong Myeong narrowed his eyes. He still didn’t trust that sly bastard—not even for a second. But what could he do? Tie him up and throw him in a cellar?

…Tempting. But no.

With a dramatic sigh, he leapt out the window toward where Hyun Jeong was waiting.

Still, just before he disappeared, he glanced back over his shoulder.

That sly bastard, smiling sweetly while the kids gathered around him like he was some kind of saint—he is though, a dark one. Cheong Myeong could already picture it: in just a few minutes, they’d be sitting in a neat little circle around him like baby chicks around a fake mother hen.

Just the thought made his stomach twist.

He let out a sharp exhale through his nose.

Hopefully, there'd still be some pride left to pick up by the time he got back.

Preferably before they started offering him snacks and calling that bastard “Elder.”

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Chapter Text

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The afternoon breeze carried the scents of wet soil and lily pads growing in the small Tang family lake. Golden sunlight danced on the water's surface, creating soft sparkles that played among the tranquil ripples. The faint sound of summer insects could be heard in the distance, creating a serene atmosphere.

Cheong Myeong's footsteps sounded light as he climbed the wooden steps to the small pagoda by the lake.The building’s simplicity was matched by its elegance, its aged wooden walls still bearing the Tang family's distinctive carvings, preserved through time. Inside, an elderly man sat cross-legged facing the water-Hyun Jong, the leader of the Mount Hua sect.

As always, his sturdy posture looked divine. His hair was neatly tied up and his gray robes were slightly blowing in the wind. But the most striking thing was not his posture, but the silence he carried. This wasn’t the silence of not knowing what to say, but of someone weighed down by their own thoughts

Cheong Myeong stopped at the doorway of the pagoda and did not immediately enter. He recalled what Jo Geol had said when delivering the message earlier, then took a deep breath and finaly said,

"Thirteenth disciple of Mount Hua, Cheong Myeong, answering your call. Sect leader-nim, have you been waiting long?"

Hyun Jong slowly turned around. A gentle smile was etched on his face, but his eyes held something else, emotion or perhaps sadness that had yet to find a word.

"How could my wait be considered long, esteemed ancestor? I apologize for taking up your precious time."

Cheong Myeong's stomach felt tied in knots.

It wasn't because he hated it. It's just that the relationship they had built over the past six years as master and disciple, suddenly felt distant because of one truth that had finally come to light without his permission.

He stepped inside.

On the wooden table, plum blossom tea steamed warmly in a cup. Sweet snacks, including his favorite red bean-filled mooncake, were neatly arranged.

Hyun Jong invited him to sit down with a graceful gesture. The afternoon sunlight framed the old warrior from behind, casting his figure into silhouette, making him appear taller and more imposing than he truly was.

Cheong Myeong sat down and picked up the teacup. Before he could take a sip, he realized that Hyun Jong was staring at him attentively, as if trying to match the young face in front of him with a figure who had only lived in legends.

It was not the gaze of someone looking at a third-grade diciple, but rather, the gaze of someone looking at a rare creature—a miracle that appeared out of nowhere with a young body and wrinkle-free skin, yet harboring something much older than wrinkles.

He immediately choked.

"Kh-Kuhuk!"

Hyun Jong smiled faintly and offered a small napkin. "I apologize for being so obvious, but I couldn't help myself."

Cheong Myeong wiped his mouth and replied, "Do that long enough, and qi will shoot out of your eyes, Sect Leader-nim." He said and got a small chuckle in return.

"I heard you call me?" he asked. He was trying to divert.

Hyun Jong nodded slowly. He took a small knife from the tray and cut the rice cakes with practiced movements. His hands trembled slightly but remained steady—an old habit he had acquired serving his master, which now felt so foreign to his daily life yet so natural this afternoon.

He offered a piece of cake on a small plate before continuing.

"Yesterday... I listened to the diciples opinions. Regarding the path you wish to pursue with them in the future."

Cheong Myeong remained silent and devoured the rice cake that Hyun Jong handed him.

"I have also heard your suggestion—that we should recognize you as Cho Sam, chosen to bear the presence of our ancestor's spirit."

"Ah, that one."

He did talk about it yesterday because he felt uncomfortable around his Sasuk and Sahyungs, who seemed to have trouble interacting with him. Well, it wasn't totally off the mark, though, 'cause Cheong Myeong did possess Cho Sam's body.

Hyun Jong let out a long breath. This time, it was noticeably heavier.

"I understand it's the best solution for now. I also know how troublesome it is to deal with disciple confusion. But...but..."

Cheong Myeong stood up straight. He was ready for this, even though he knew it was inevitable.

"How could... esteemed ancestor... after what you went through, how could I allow that?"

His voice trembled slightly, not from anger-but from not knowing who to be angry at.

"After all the suffering and struggle you've endured, how could we possibly forget everything, Ancestor?"

Cheong Myeong blinked.

He had prepared himself for this, for tough questions, a serious request, or even a subtle rebuke. But what he didn't expect was to see Hyun Jong lose his composure.

The usually gentle and patient old man—who spoke with long pauses and a thoughtful tone—suddenly began speaking nonstop, his voice rising and falling as if he were pouring his entire chest out at once.

"How could I do such a thing!? After what you went through, after saving this sect twice, maybe even three times! Even after death, you came back to save Mount Hua so many times! Do you think we can just ignore all that? Do you think we can treat you like an ordinary disciple who can be told to wash robes and do morning runs?"

But instead of calming down, Hyun Jong started talking faster, as if the frustration he had held back finally exploded.

He pointed at the table.

"This tea, these snacks, this pagoda—all of this is not enough! It's not enough to honor what you've given! Even mentioning you with honor feels insufficient!

Cheong Myeong could only sit on his trembling legs, his eyes blinking rapidly as if waiting for a storm to pass. One thing he had learned was that the anger of a patient person was the scariest.

But Hyun Jong wasn't done yet.

"How can I be so unconcerned?!" Hyun Jong exclaimed, his voice revealing a tension he rarely displayed. “How can I sit idly by, pretending not to know, when you—you, who saved this sect more than anyone else—are asking us to pretend you don’t exist?”

Cheong Myeong opened his mouth but was unable to interrupt.

"You said you wanted to be an ordinary disciple. But we know you're more than just a disciple. You're not just a legend. You're the reason we still have a roof over our heads and the reason disciples can raise their swords with pride!"

Hyun Jong's breath began to catch.

"If I pretend not to know—if I pretend you're nobody—then that makes me nobody, too! It makes Mount Hua nothings!"

He sat up, but his shoulders slumped, as if the weight of it all had finally settled. His voice grew quieter, more fragile. "... then everything, all of this is meaningless."

"Esteemed Ancestor..."

"If we don't value it... if we can't remember your sacrifice... then who will?"

Cheong Myeong looked at him.

A long silence followed.

Then, quickly, he reached for the teapot and poured hot tea into Hyun Jong's empty cup.

He offered it softly.

"Sect Leader, please drink first," he said, a hint of fear in his voice. "Before you pass out from talking too much."

Hyun Jong sighed but took the cup with trembling hands.

They sat in silence for a while. Only the sounds of evening birds and rustling leaves outside the pagoda could be heard.

Then, finally, Hyun Jong spoke again. This time, it was low. Much more honest.

"My apologies..."

Cheong Myeong turned his head.

"It's not that I want you to be forced to return to being an 'elder' or play the role of our 'ancestor.' its just..."

He gripped the cup tightly.

"I want to know what it feels like. I want to know what it feels like to be led by someone .... someone who was once at the peak of Mount Hua's glory. Just once."

His voice almost trembled.

The voice trembled.

"All this time, I've only been guessing. I've been wondering if what I'm doing is right and if this path is the right one. then I can stop guessing. I can learn. I can ask the questions I’ve carried in silence.

And more than that—I can teach. Not just with words or theory, but with the certainty that what we strive for was real. That there were those who came before us. Who lived it. Who stood in Mount Hua’s golden days."

Cheong Myeong looked down. He didn't answer. His left hand clenched silently under the table.

"I just... All that is wanted is for someone to be looked up to."

He looked down at the tea in his cup, a thin vapor rising slowly in the golden light of dusk.

He did not answer immediately. But inside, something stirred.

He understood.

He understood that inexpressible frustration: The weight of leading a sect that once stood on equal footing with the heavens—and slowly seeing it degenerate into a mockery of itself year after year. he knew what it was like to defend the honor of a name that no one considered important anymore.

A sect that was once respected, then forgotten.

'Mount Hua used to not be like this.'

His mind flashed back a hundred years—to a bustling peak full of young warriors, a training room filled with laughter, and the sound of swinging swords echoing from cliff to cliff.

Now? The sect lived in the shadow of its own glory.

At the center of the ruins stood Hyun Jong, supporting everything alone with a calmness that was never truly calm. He was just someone who had no choice.

Cheong Myeong closed her eyes for a moment, then said softly,

"I understand you..."

Hyun Jong turned his head and blinked for a moment. Perhaps it was because he didn't expect it or because there was something in that tone—not the tone of a disciple but of someone who knew that feeling all too well.

"I understand the desire to have someone to look up to. I know what it's like to feel constantly lost. To be unsure if your steps are leading everyone to a better place or just to a deeper abyss."

Cheong Myeong looked down at the surface of his tea, his gaze blank as if the pale color could reflect the bloody memories in his head.

The days on the battlefield flashed back in his mind, and he couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he were to go back there again.

He was a pawn with no right to refuse, and he kept breaking through the front lines, cutting down the enemy without mercy. He didn't do it for glory, he did it .. because it was what had to be done. The chaos, the blood, the screams...it just never stopped.

Sometimes when his mind clear, he knew that one enemy he killed could save a disciple in the back row. But more often than not, he just fought because he had no other choice.

War took away many things. Including himself.

Until all that was left was his killing instinct and his grudge against the Heavenly Demon—the only thing he could still hold onto.

His hand gripped the cup tighter. Then he turned it slowly, as if trying to calm his mind.

"I know how it feels to wish there was someone—anyone—you could rely on. Someone you could trust completely. Because if there were someone like that, at least you wouldn't feel like it's all just for nothing."

The afternoon light shone on his young face, but it could not hide the tired lines around Cheong Myeong's eyes. His current face was too young to bear such deep wounds, but time was no measure for a soul that had been alone for too long.

He drew in a thin breath.

"So I understand, Sect Leader-nim..."

He finally looked at Hyun Jong—not as a disciple nor as an ancestor, but as someone who knew the loneliness of struggling alone.

"But that person ... is no me."

Then he smiled, but it wasn't the kind of smile that makes things lighter. It was more like he finally admitted the truth he had been denying for a long time. It was a smile that felt like a wound that had not yet dried but was no longer hidden.

"I'm just someone... who also lost his way for too long."

Silence enveloped them.

Cheong Myeong stared at the tea water that had begun to cool in his cup, before finally saying slowly, not like someone who was stuck in the past, but like someone who had decided to live in the present.

"I died with a sword in my hand, carrying a hundred expectations on my back. But none of us survived."

He shrugged slightly and said, "I used to fight alone in the front because I had to. Because if not me, who else gonna do that?" He sighed softly, then continued. "But now, if I come back just to repeat all that, then I'd rather never come back."

Hyun Jong looked at him intently, and the tension in the air was palpable. His voice came out bitterly.

"So you would stand by and watch us stray from the path? Watch us fall into the same ruin as before?"

Cheong Myeong turned to him and smiled.

"Who said I was going to abandon you?"

Hyun Jong was stunned.

"I'm going to stay here. I'll stay with Mount Hua. Always" He lightly tapped his cup against the table, making a soft sound that filled the air. "But don't expect me to be a leading figure or a wise old man sitting in the back giving some life advice. I'm not cut out for white robes and wooden sticks."

He looked at him with bright eyes, full of life, and a little mischievous.

"I don't want to be the light. I only want to stand on the same path with you. Run when you run, fall when you fall, and fight not as your leader, but as your equal."

Nothing more and nothing less. It was a simple wish.

This time, he no longer wanted to be in the front. All Cheong Myeong wanted was to fight and struggle together with his comrades.

Hyun Jong slowly leaned back. His eyes were teary but also contained joy.

"With that way of speaking, how can you not look like the Ancestor?"

Cheong Myeong sneered and sipped his tea, even though it was cold.

"Because an ancestor wouldn't steal booze from a warehouse in the middle of the night or rip off a beggar or even bandits, would they?"

Hyun Jong chuckled. The heavy voice suddenly felt light.

"You're really not just any ordinary disciple, Cheong Myeong."

"That's been obvious for as long as anyone can remember, Sect Leader-nim."

Since long ago... since he was just a tiny baby in caresses. Since the first time his fingers grasped a wooden sword that was too heavy for his body. Since he took a sip of stolen alcohol that made him cough. Cheong Myeong had never been an ordinary disciple.

In his life, which had known only the slopes and winds of Mount Hua, he had served many sect leaders. Each carried their own color, their own way of guiding. Some were as unyielding as a sheer cliff, some as commanding as a towering peak. Others were like the wind that battered those cliffs—harsh in voice, yet always shaped by the rock they guarded. And then there was his sahyung, fierce and explosive, yet controlled, like fire bound within an iron furnace. But this time… this time he stood before a leader whose heart was like the morning dew—gentle, fleeting, yet the purest of them all.

Despite all the differences, though, Cheong Myeong knew there was one thing that never changed. Their love for Mount Hua and their disciple, which they guarded more than their own lives.

He fully understood what Hyun Jong was feeling right now, and he was also sure Hyun Jong understood his feelings.

And that was enough for him. 

The afternoon rolled slowly by. Golden light enveloped the two generations of Mount Hua who now sat at the same table—not as master and disciple or ancestor and successor. But as fellow warriors who chose to stay.

Silence descended again. Only the gentle swish of the wind and the ripples of the nearby lake could be heard. The afternoon light began to fade, turning into the reddening twilight at the edge of the sky.

"I'm sorry, I cannot fulfill your expectations, Sect Leader..." Cheong Myeong stared at the empty teacup before him. Then, slowly, he rose to his feet.

There is no rush. There was no hesitation.

His steps were steady and his body firm, like someone who had gone through a hundred battles and still lived to tell the tale.

"But for your earlier request, just for this one time, the first and last ... I will grant it."

He has never been someone who likes or deserves to act like an elder. Even so, even though he didn't want to act like an ancestor should in front of Hyun Jong, there were things he still needed to say on behalf of his sahyung and sajil, who were watching from up there.

Hyun Jong raised his face. He held his breath. Before he could ask anything, he saw Cheong Myeong standing straight in front of him. He was silent, yet his presence seemed to fill the entire space between them.

The look in his eyes was no longer witty or playful. What was in front of him now was the calmness of an ancestor who had seen destruction and resurrection and had chosen to remain standing.

Hyun Jong's gaze widened as he heard the voice change—not cold or cheeky, but full of authority unheard for a hundred years. For the first time, Hyun Jong felt that he was truly standing before Mount Hua's predecessor, the plum blossom sword saint.

"Thank you... for all that you have done for Mount Hua."

Cheong Myeong lowered his head slightly. His smile was small but genuine. For the first time, he called out in a low, warm voice.

".... We're proud of you. Good job, Hyun Jong-ah."

Hyun Jong's body trembled slightly, and his eyes moistened. He covered his mouth with one hand—perhaps to hold back a sob or to ensure that this was not a dream.

A brief silence fell between them, accompanied by the swish of the wind carrying the lingering scent of the afternoon. Slowly, Cheong Myeong lifted his gaze to the twilight sky, which was beginning to change color—pale blue fading into golden orange with the remnants of daylight hanging between the thin clouds.

Silently, his mind drifted.

The name he was given was... Cheong Myeong.

His Sahyung once told him that his name meant "clear blue." Like the clear sky after rain. Not a blinding light or a forced path. It was just a wide, open sky where all things could breathe, grow, and move forward.

Now, he began to understand. He did not want to be the torch at the front of the line or the guideline elevated on the sacred altar. He just wanted to stand in the same place, looking in the same direction and walking in step with everyone else. Not at the front, not at the top, just... together.

In the distance, lights and lanterns began to be lit. The children's cheerful voices could faintly be heard from the direction of the main building—this evening's banquet seemed to be starting soon.

Cheong Myeong lowered his gaze, then flashed his trademark grin. The wind tugged at his high ponytail, the green ribbon dancing as if to echo his boyish mischief.

"Let's hurry back, Sect leader-nim. If we don't leave soon, those ignorant sahyungs won't leave any food for us," he said with a laugh.

Hyun Jong chuckled. "You're right. I can't keep Lord Tang waiting, so let's go back soon."

From behind, Cheong Myeong followed Hyun Jong. His irises, which were colored like flowers, were still able to gaze at the sky, which was gradually losing its color. However, a ray of blue remained, like a tiny flame that refused to be put out.

‘Sect Leader-sahyung... I'll try to live up to my name. Blue sky, peaceful life—all that boring stuff. But if someday that 'clear sky' flares up and strikes like lightning, just blame the weather. Not me.’

***

As Cheong Myeong and Hyun Jong stepped into the banquet hall, the aroma of food wafted through the air. The sounds of laughter, clinking cups, and clashing chopsticks could already be heard from afar.

This dinner was a little more festive than the last few days, as it was a small celebration after everything that had happened recently. Only the Tang family and Mount Hua guests were present tonight. The Tang family's great hall was filled with the light of red and golden lanterns dangling from every corner. The spicy, fragrant aroma of Sichuan food mixed with the fragrance of wine wafting from the large jugs on the table. The sounds of laughter, chatter, and clinking cups created a festive atmosphere that could only occur when the Murim had temporarily forgotten about swords and spears.

Cheong Myeong stopped in the doorway and stared at the half-empty table.

"You guys started without me!?" His voice was sharp, and his lips curled as if he were about to tear apart the nerve of anyone who dared to eat first.

Some of the disciples who were chewing stiffened immediately. Jo Geol almost choked, and Baek Cheon hurriedly put down his chopsticks as if he were a child caught stealing a treat.

From the end of the table, Tang Bo turned casually with a cup in hand. His face glowed with lamplight—and probably alcohol.

"You're late, hyung-nim," he said, waving a hand without any guilt.

Instead of sitting with the Tang family or the Mount Hua elders, Tang Bo chose to sit with the young disciples. His face had a look of being at home, and maybe even a touch of slyness.

Cheong Myeong glanced at the table of honor where the Mount Hua elder and Tang family sat in a row. The food on the table was untouched, indicating that they were waiting for Hyun Jong, the mount hua sect leader, to sit down first.

However, when Cheong Myeong returned his gaze to Tang Bo, who was cheerfully plucking at the roast chicken and encouraging the students to eat first, he could only sigh.

"Why are you sitting with the kids?" he asked dryly.

"It's more fun here," replied Tang Bo, patting Jo Geol's shoulder. Jo Geol looked half regretful and half resigned. "Come on, hyung-nim. I'll pour you the best drink."

"Only if you don't put poison in it," Cheong Myeong said. Then, with a casual move, he pulled out a chair and sat among Mount Hua's disciples.

That simple gesture, without any additional words, was enough for the elders watching from a distance. They looked at each other, and behind their smiles was an understanding. Cheong Myeong did not want a change in his status. He would continue to live as a third-grade disciple. Nothing more, nothing less. They could only accept that decision.

Once Hyun Jong finally sat down and gestured, the meal began. Laughter, banter, and the sound of chopsticks clashing with plates filled the room. As always, Cheong Myeong ate as if his stomach were bottomless, much to the amazement and horror of onlookers.

In between bites, Tang Bo began to tell stories about their life before the war. His tone was light and humorous, typical of the murim world where every duel, trip, or roadside hangover could be a story worth retelling. Mount Hua's disciples listened with enthusiasm, occasionally bursting into laughter or shaking their heads in disbelief.

Then, Tang Bo poured wine into Cheong Myeong's cup. "It might be a little late to ask this, but ... why is there a Shaolin kid here?"

All eyes fell on Hye Yeon, who was calmly sipping spicy Sichuan soup in the corner.

"Ah, that..." Baek Cheon muttered.

"The situation is a bit complicated," Yoon Jong added.

"Shaolin disowned him, so we took him in," Cheong Myeong said matter-of-factly.

"That's not true!" Hye Yeon protested immediately, his face turning red. "I'm here because of my own decision!"

Giggles broke out around the table.

Tang Bo let out a long sigh and rested his chin in his palms as he looked at Hye Yeon, who innocently returned to the bowl.

"Well, life is truly full of surprises. I still remember when Shaolin monks only ate bland porridge and drank river water. Sitting cross-legged all day with a face full of purity." He pointed at Hye Yeon's chopsticks, which were busy reaching for the meat. "Now, these Shaolin children are fighting over pork and sipping spicy soup."

He took a sip of wine, then shook his head and chuckled. "Haha, I guess I'm too old to keep up with the times. If they keep this up, the Shaolin monks might open a tavern in the market tomorrow."

The table instantly erupted in laughter while Hye Yeon almost choked, his face turning bright red. Because somehow, Tang Bo's words hit the nail on the head, and they could all imagine Hye Yeon doing all that in the future.

Cheong Myeong snorted, "Hmph. If Shaolin opens a tavern, I'll be their first customer."

Tang Bo let out a long, serious sigh. "First customer? I remember when you said the same thing decades ago. The world may change, but it seems like your habits don't."

Tang Bo's statement reminded the students of something that had been on their minds for several days.

"Elder-nim..." Yoo Iseol's soft voice suddenly sounded from the end of the table. "What are the real ages of the two of you?"

Tang Bo nearly sprayed his wine in Jo Geol's face. "Hey! Little girl, it's rude to ask a senior's age!"

“If you’re proudly acting like an old man, you should have known the question would come.” Cheong Myeong joked casually, his mouth still full of food.

Tang Bo let out a long sigh, finally giving up. "As I recall... I'm seventy-six years old."

"Se—"

"SEVENTY SIX?!" the students shouted simultaneously, their faces bulging as if they'd just heard the sky fall.

"He's a freaking grandpa!"

"Goel-ah! You can't say that!" Yoon Jong snapped, half in panic.

"Yeah, but sahyung! He's older than my grandpa!"

Cheong Myeong laughed so hard that he almost fell off his chair.

"Age is just a number!" And stop laughing, hyung-nim! You're no better than me!" Tang Bo replied dramatically, pointing at Cheong Myeong with chopsticks in hand.

The laughter suddenly stopped. The atmosphere froze.

"Wait.. what was that?"

"Cheong Myeong was... older?" Baek Cheon said, his voice wavering.

"Huh? You didn't know?" Tang Bo raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Isn't it obvious? I referred to him as "hyung."

Yoon Jong's face was pale as he replied, "We thought it was because you lost sparring to him a LOT.

Even the giant bandit from the Green Forest ended up calling Cheong Myeong 'hyung-nim'. So, when Tang Bo called thim that, they assumed the same thing.

Tang Bo shrugged. "Well, that was one of the reasons. So... it's not wrong either."

"So... your age difference..."

"I'm five..or six years younger?" replied Tang Bo flatly, a little unsure because he himself had never given it much thought.

"...Then..."

All heads slowly turned to look at Cheong Myeong, who was calmly sipping his wine.

"What are you looking at?!" Cheong Myeong snapped with a glare.

No one dared to make a sound. The disciples' jaws hung open as if birds could make nests in them.

"Eighty-one," someone whispered softly.

"Eighty..."

"EIGHTY FUCKING ONE!??"

‘Ancestor my ass! He's ancient!’

While other warriors had retired at that age to teach children under a plum tree, this old man had fought the Heavenly Demon and ended the war.

It doesn't make sense.

It's crazy.

Inhumane.

The disciples were silent, just staring.

What they saw was no longer the drunken, mischievous third-grade disciple Sajil.

Suddenly, the figure in front of them felt far away, too far away.

This person... fighting a Heavenly Demon at the age of eighty?

The backbone of Mount Hua, a living legend, was eighty-one years old. Add the six years Cheong Myeong lived with them, and then..

They fell silent, imagining the young figure they once only knew as a troublemaker... someday can be old too?

Reflexively, they turned their heads to the elders' table. Hyun Jong, Hyun Yeong, and Hyun Sang sat quietly and authoritatively. Their hair was still bushy and adorned with only a few gray hairs. Their faces were wrinkled yet fresh, like old mountains that still stood firmly.

"Our elders should be at their sixties, right?"

"...Can you imagine that version of Cheong Myeong?" Jo Geol whispered, his voice hoarse.

At that moment, their minds were flooded with images that should not have been there. Old Cheong Myeong was using a stick—not for support himself, but to hit a disciple on the head.

"HEEAADDD!!!"

"...Ugh." Yoon Jong reflexively wiped his face.

Baek Cheon could only swallow. "If he stays like that until old age... we're all screwed."

They looked at each other, horrified by the thought.

"Come to think of it, he does talk like a grandpa a lot."

The image of Cheong Myeong's annoying remarks during practice came back to haunt them.

"Back in my day!"

"When I was your age, I climbed the mountain three times for morning practice!"

"This is the young people these days! No self-awareness!"

Instantly, their goosebumps bristled.

"Now add some white hair and wrinkles..."

"... "

"... a demon?"

"Oh shit, it's too scary." Baek Cheon gulped, his face pale.

"Agreed," said Yoon Jong, looking down quickly.

Tang Bo chuckled, deliberately letting the kids' imaginations run wild. They must have been attempting to envision what Cheong Myeong would resemble at 81, unaware of the fact that the individual should still appear as healthy as a man in his thirties or forties. The cultivation level of an individual can indeed have such a significant impact.

But, to be honest, Tang Bo was curious, too. What would they all look like if they really aged?

Those emerald eyes glanced at the man beside him, who was engrossed in chewing. "You're not going to tell them?

Cheong Myeong raised an eyebrow. "Why should I? Wouldn't it be better if they got used to imagining me old? That way, they won't be so surprised."

Tang Bo doesn’t seem to follow.

Cheong Myeong casually stuffed Tang Bo’s mouth with sticky rice cake. “You guys were the one who told me you’d grow old with me, weren’t you?” he said with a smile that sent chills down Tang Bo’s spine. “So you better get prepared.”

Tang Bo forced the rice cake down, each bite heavier than it should be. For some reason, it felt less like eating and more like signing away his soul to the devil.

‘Thi-this guy will hunt down promises to the ends of the earth like a demon…’

Cheong Myeong leaned back, smug, and poured Tang Bo another drink without asking. For all his grumbling, Tang Bo didn’t push it away. He raised the cup with a half-hearted glare, and Cheong Myeong clinked his own against it—softly, deliberately, as if sealing a pact only the two of them understood.

For a brief moment, the world around them felt warm. The laughter, the food, the simple weight of the cup in their hands… it was enough to make one forget what waited outside the walls.

But that warmth did not reach every table. Not far from them, the voices of the elders carried low and heavy, drawing a stark line against the cheerful noise.

"—We've gotten word they're fleeing westward."

"Didn't our troops crush them yesterday?"

"That's right. Cheong Myeong defeated the bishop, but the rest of the Demon Cult escaped and spread out like headless snakes. They're few in number, but they act individually, and they're hard to eradicate."

The faint whispers reached Cheong Myeong's ears, but he did not turn his head nor stop his mouth from munching. Only the corners of his eyes narrowed slightly, as if he were weighing something.

His ears caught a sound from afar, too faint for anyone else to hear, but certainly not for him. He slowly put down his cup and rose from his seat. The movement confused Mount Hua's disciples. The usual witty gaze on his face vanished, replaced by a cold sharpness like a sword blade.

"Myeong-ah?" Yoon Jong stared in surprise as he watched Myeong tighten his ribbon, his signature move before a fight. "Where are you going—"

BAM!

The hall door opened with a loud bang. A Tang family warrior ran in, breathing heavily and with sweat running down his temples. Everyone was shocked—except for Cheong Myeong, who seemed to have been expecting him.

"Emergency report!" The man's voice trembled, yet remained firm. "There's fighting on the western border! Our warriors are overwhelmed by the remnants of the Demon Cult!"

The glass that had just been raised froze in midair.

Silence hung in the air.

Cheong Myeong picked up the bottle of wine, downed it in one gulp, and let out a loud burp. He then let out a long breath, and his gaze instantly changed. "Alright, looks like it's time for a night walk."

"Cheong Myeong-ah..." Hyun Jong's voice sounded heavy, as if he had guessed where this conversation was headed.

Cheong Myeong bowed briefly to his master. "Sect leader, Please allow me to take my leave."

The elders broke out into an uproar. "No!" Elder Hyun Yong pounded the table. "You just returned from a deadly battle! Your wounds aren't even fully healed yet!"

"The Tang Army was enough to deal with it," Tang Gunak added, his tone full of disapproval.

But Cheong Myeong only smiled faintly. "If it was enough, they wouldn't have sent an emergency report here." His words were light, but each syllable felt like a knife piercing the silence.

Hyun Jong frowned. "But—"

"Sect Leader.." Cheong Myeong cut in gently. "Leave this to me."

Those words made the room silent. No one could argue; even those who had loudly refused were silent.

Finally, Hyun Jong took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. "Are you going to bring the disciples?"

"Yes, I'll take the kids with me," Cheong Myeong replied without hesitation.

"Then..." Hyun Jong's voice trembled, but he straightened his shoulders. "Go and come back safely. Please guide our disciples.

Cheong Myeong looked down deeply. "I will make sure of that."

With that, he turned toward the door. Mount Hua's disciples immediately stood up and followed his lead without hesitation.

Without wasting any time, Mount Hua's small entourage left the Tang family residence and rushed toward the darkness in the west that called out to them.

***

Only the clattering of their footsteps could be heard as they walked along the cold, dusty ground. The wind carried a rancid scent—the smell of fresh blood mixed with wet soil—which grew more piercing the farther they went.

Baek Cheon gripped his sword tightly, his veins tensing. Yoon Jong swallowed, glancing left and right constantly. Jo Geol, usually talkative, walked in silence this time, his shoulders stiffening every time the wind whispered from the forest's darkness.

Cheong Myeong marched steadily forward without a sound. His face was expressionless, his eyes sweeping across the bloodstained ground and the traces of haste that had just dried.

No one spoke. No one dared.

Cheong Myeong looked briefly at the disciple who followed him. Their faces were tense, but their steps did not falter. A faint sense of pride rose in his chest, though he would never admit it out loud.

"They are already much stronger than before. But... Will they be okay after the battle in the cave that day?

When they finally reached the outskirts of the small village mentioned in the report, the sight that greeted them took everyone's breath away.

The houses were half-burnt, leaving behind black charcoal that still puffed out thin smoke. The streets were deserted, but the ground was covered in red patches that hadn't dried yet. Several objects had fallen to the ground—a wooden bucket, a child's toy, and a torn cloth—all bearing silent witness to the suddenness of the attack.

Baek Cheon held his breath, his eyes burning. "Those vile humans."

Yoon Jong gritted her teeth.

Soso looked down, unable to stare for too long.”they are not humans anynmore”

Cheong Myeong stood in the middle of the village street, scanning every corner with a calculating gaze.

"Listen carefully, guys. Sasuk, you will lead from the front and maintain formation. Yoon Jong and Jo Geol Sahyung will follow behind you. Sago, stay by my side. Soso and Baldy, prioritize saving the Tang warrior and check on the villager. Understood?"

"Yes!" the disciples replied in unison.

"Alright—"

"What about me?"

"Tang Bo will follow me from behind—"

Cheong Myeong froze.

His body stiffened automatically, and his breath hitched. In a split second, his eyes widened in shock.

"...?!"

From the gap in the formation, Tang Bo stepped out slowly, as if he had been there from the beginning. An innocent smile hung on his lips, and he held a fumi with an almost extinguished smoke in his hand.

The faces of Mount Hua's disciples were equally frozen.

"Ta... Tang Elder?" Baek Cheon stammered.

"How could...?" Soso gaped. They both turned to Cheong Myeong, who had lost all color in his face.

"Wait, Cheong Myeong also didn't even notice?" Jo Geol whispered, almost in disbelief.

They knew exactly how keen Cheong Myeong's senses were. He was the one who could hear hidden breathing in the middle of a battle and sense the flash of murderous intent from far away. Hell, he could even smell booze from behind a mountain! But now... had he failed to notice?

As for Cheong Myeong himself...

His face hardened. His body leaned forward slightly as if about to attack reflexively. The fine veins on his temples tightened and his teeth clenched.

The look in his eyes was no longer just shock—but anger.

Angry at being missed. Angry at himself.

And panicked... because his perfect formation and plan were now torn apart by an unexpected variable.

Yup, a wild tang bo appears!

Then—

“I also brought your fixed sword from A-Pyung,” Tang bo said casually. “We can’t let you use a borrowed sword to slay the demon cult, can we?”

The weight of the moment cracked in an instant.

“…”

Cheong Myeong blinked, his expression twitching between rage and disbelief.

“…You’ve got to be kidding me.”

.

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Chapter Text

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Cheong Myeong has always been someone who lives with clear boundaries around what he likes and dislikes. In fact, he is extremely particular about them.

For example, he likes meat and alcohol, but he can't stand bland vegetables. Although he likes the feeling of becoming stronger, he doesn't enjoy training. He loves his free time, especially when he can have fun, but he's not comfortable with serious matters or being involved in decision-making. He has a high regard for people who are genuinely strong, but he really doesn't like people who are always looking for his validation or trying to attract his attention in an excessive way.

Simple, wasn’t it? The world would’ve been easier if everyone followed such simple logic.
But life rarely offered such simplicity—especially when it came to people.

Long ago, when a man with emerald eyes and a smile carved by dimples appeared before him, two thoughts instantly struck Cheong Myeong.

The first was, “Another crazy bastard. If I deal with him quickly, I can go back to my drink in peace.”

The man walked towards him calmly, as if he were a carefree young master out for a stroll. There was no pressure, no killing intention. Even the way he looked at him seemed too pure, too innocent, too sincere — and precisely because of that, something felt off.

The second came the moment a hidden weapon flashed toward him like a serpent striking in the dark. His sword flew from its sheath instinctively, steel clashing against metal with sparks. And in that instant, he knew.

This bastard is strong. Very much so.

There was nothing to suggest an attack was imminent, no sign of a sudden movement or expression of aggression. The movements were so natural and simple that it seemed as if the world itself were throwing the blade towards his throat.

And based on those two things, Cheong Myeong realised that he could immediately make a conclusion.

He is dangerous.

Not because he emitted extraordinary qi. Not at all. Nor was it because his body was large and muscular, or because his aura was overwhelming.

Tang Bo was the exact opposite of all that.

He had a slim body. Light footsteps. He wore clean, even luxurious clothes — too neat for someone who clearly lived in a world of blood. There was nothing to suggest that he was an martial arts expert. And that was precisely what made Cheong Myeong's skin crawl.

In the realm of martial arts, one can to a certain extent approximate an individual's strength by observing their stance, respiration, the ambience surrounding them, or the techniques they exhibit. But sometimes you come across someone you can't assess at all. This usually only happens when that person is far above your level.

However, there are always exceptions, and the Tang family from Sichuan are one of them.

The roots of their abilities lie not in open duels but in the dark world, where they use poison, secret weapons and assassination. These are the things that shape Tang warriors with a constitution unlike any martial artist.

During their first duel, Cheong Myeong had to unleash nearly all his strength for the first time in a long while.

He always thought his eyes were fast enough to see his opponent's movements. However, as soon as they clashed, he realised something. What was more dangerous than Tang Bo's hidden weapon was his feet.

Even if he knew they were there, his eyes still refused to follow them. Those movements did not conform to normal human logic. They were unpredictable. Like snakes slithering through the grass, they could slide sideways, bend and suddenly appear behind you without you realising.

For the first time, Cheong Myeong felt discomfort — the sword that had always been his third eye could not fully track his opponent's movements.

The footwork of the Tang family.

It was not the swift, agile movements of a sword dancing in the air. Nor were they the heavy steps of a spear expert stomping the ground.

It was nothingness. There was no sound, no trace of intention and no hint of a shadow. You saw them in front of you — and in the blink of an eye, a dagger was already aimed at your throat.

However, after getting to know Tang Bo quite well, Cheong Myeong realised something. Although the footwork had the same fundamentals, it was very different from that of the other Tang family members.

The new generation of the Tang family preferred to demonstrate their strength through the use of potent poisons. They devoted their time to creating stronger poisons that could kill with just a drop on the tip of a needle. To them, the calmness and subtlety of the older style of footwork felt outdated. It was too simple. It was too obscure to satisfy their egos. Their entire martial arts style was based on footwork that did not look intimidating in a duel of honour. The footwork that had once made the Tang family feared throughout the martial arts world was slowly being replaced.

But Tang Bo was different.

He never abandoned that foundation. Whether out of stubbornness or because he truly understood the essence of his family's style, he continued to tread those steps like a shadow.

Even after being friends for so long, Cheong Myeong had never seen him walk any other way. It was precisely this loyalty that made Tang Bo dangerous — dangerous in a way that the other members of the Tang family could no longer be.

He combined hidden weapons, extraordinary qi energy, footwork and poison.

Tang Bo was the pinnacle of all that, and his performance was nothing short of exceptional.

Over the years of their friendship, countless sword and weapon duels had taken place. Although Cheong Myeong almost always had the upper hand, he never underestimated Tang Bo or let his guard down. He knew that if Tang Bo ever got serious, unleashing his killing intent or releasing his best techniques, then none of their duels would end with just minor injuries and laughter afterwards.

He is the Dark Saint.

All his beliefs about what he liked and disliked were shattered when the green-robed man with emerald eyes stormed into his life without permission.

That was what Cheong Myeong both loved and hated about Tang Bo.

For many years, Tang Bo had managed to deceive him and protect him at the same time, even through the most tumultuous periods of history, including wars and the passage of decades. He could slip through gaps that even the Plum Blossom Sword Saint thought were tightly closed. He could still appear at the most unexpected — or rather, unwanted — moments. Yet, at the same time, he always shielded the fragile sides that remained hidden, appearing precisely when Cheong Myeong needed him most.

All his beliefs about what he liked and disliked were shattered when the green-robed man with emerald eyes stormed into his life without permission.

Like right now, for example.

“…You've got to be kidding me.”

Hearing this, the Mount Hua disciples instantly took five steps back upon sensing the aura emanating from Cheong Myeong. They knew that look all too well—the look before he beat someone half to death. And they had learned one thing. If that’s happened, keep a safe distance. Immediately.

'Oh shit... he's fucked up.'

‘Tang Elder, sorry, but you’re on your own this time.’

'He's dead.'

‘Not his head, sahyung. Please don't hit his head or face. My father will be furious if our elder comes home beaten up.'

Cheong Myeong’s eyes narrowed, his face dark with shock and fury.

"You... YOU BASTARD!"

Tang Bo's eyebrows rose in surprise, and he felt a twinge of disappointment at Cheong Myeong's reaction, which he had expected to be delighted by his presence. "Wh-what? What did I do wrong this time?"

"DON'T PLAY DUMB! Cheong Myeong almost cursed as he swung his sword, the veins in his temples bulging. "SINCE WHEN DID YOU START FOLLOWING US, HUH?!" SINCE WHEN?!"

"Since you left the manor, maybe? Or maybe even longer than that—Hey! You are the one who told the sect leader, ‘I’ll take the kids with me.’ So naturally, I—”"

“Since when did you include yourself when I was talking about the kids!?”

“But you always call me brat this, brat that! So I thought—”

“Shut the fuck up before I cut your tongue out!”

"I came to help you!" he exclaimed, his voice ringing with sincerity.

“When did I ask for it?!” Why are you here!?” Cheong Myeong really looked like he was about to explode. “Argh! This is why I hate the Tang family's footwork!" He was gripping his sword so tightly that it was almost shaking.

And t must be because of his scent! If only Tang Bo had the same scent as he used to, perhaps Cheong Myeong would have noticed him sooner, even if he hid his movements or made his qi undetectable. But Tang Zushi's body now blended in too well with the herbal scent of the other Tang family members, especially Soso's, as she was always with the disciple.

But more than all that... Tang Bo's presence among them felt too natural, as if he had always been by his side, and as if the six years they had been apart meant nothing to him. His footsteps always matched his shadow and never left him. And that caused Cheong Myeong to tremble in shock.

All the Mount Hua disciples held their breath, half in fear and half in awe.

Successfully deceiving Cheong Myeong's hyper-sensitive senses was an achievement they had never witnessed in their six years of knowing this demon. And here, the Dark Saint had succeeded in doing it even though his qi was still in such a chaotic state.

'If he can deceive Cheong Myeong,' thought Baek Cheon, cold sweat running down his temples.

‘then the Tang Elder's abilities are far beyond anything I could have imagined.' Yoon Jong swallowed hard. 'This isn't just about a secret weapon. This man is truly a monster in his own right.'

However, the two elders were too preoccupied with their own argument.

Tang Bo lifted his hands, as if to stop a wild animal from attacking. "Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. Why are you so angry? I'm just joining in. That's all. Isn't this how things normally are?"

"NORMAL MY ASS!!" Cheong Myeong almost screamed. "What sane person would voluntary sneak into my team? If they're not crazy, they're stupid!”

The disciples glanced at each other, silently judging who was stupid and who was crazy.

“Since when do I need your permission to go anywhere?” Tang Bo shot back, emerald eyes narrowing. “You know me. One day I’m in Sichuan, the next I’m in Shaanxi. I show up in Hubei, then suddenly I’m in Xi’an. So what’s the difference now?”

“WHAT DIFFERENCE?!” Cheong Myeong roared, face flushing crimson. His veins pulsed at the temple, and his voice cracked like a whip. “The whole damn world is different now, you bastard!”

Tang Bo glared, his voice rising. "I came here to help you! You should be thankful to me!"

“I NEVER ASKED!”

"You never forbade me either!!!"

Their voices exploded like thunder. The Mount Hua disciples held their breath, their faces pale with disbelief.

Even Baek Cheon whispered, "...Is this how they befriend each other?"

Tang Bo snorted, then started taking out different things from his sleeve robe. He took out supplies, medicine, bottles of poison and even a barrel of wine. He threw them one by one at Cheong Myeong as if they were hidden weapons. "Look at these supplies! You think I came here for a picnic?!"

Cheong Myeong dodged the throws. “What the hell—?! Is your sleeve a warehouse or something? GO FUCKING HOME!"

“UGH!! YOU—"

"WHAT!?" COME AT ME AND I'LL CUT YOUR LEG!"

His hand was almost completely raised with the sword. Tang Bo also tensed up, his fingers moving towards his sleeve — everyone knew what that meant.

“WAIT!”

“THIS IS BAD!” Yoon Jong quickly wrapped his arm around Cheong Myeong’s waist while Jo Geol held his legs.

“Cheong Myeong! Please, calm down! If you two fight here, we’ll be the first ones to die!” Yoon Jong shouted, clinging to him desperately.

“ELDER TANG! PLEASE, DON’T!!” Baek Cheon grabbed Tang Bo’s arm with both hands.

Tang Bo only snorted, lips curling. “If I really wanted to kill him, I wouldn’t pick a crowded place like this. I’m not that stupid.”

Cheong Myeong’s glare sharpened, his face darkening like a storm cloud. “…Oh. So you do want to kill me?”

“That’s not what I meant, you bastard! You always twist my words!”

“YOU SAID IT YOURSELF!” Cheong Myeong barked, thrashing like a mad dog, his sahyungs straining to hold him down.

“Taoist Hyung-nim!”

The words cut through the chaos like a blade. Tang Bo’s voice no longer carried anger—it was heavier, steadier, weighed down by something raw. In it was the anxiety he could no longer hide… and the frustration that had been clawing at his chest all along.

Silence fell. The disciples froze, hearts pounding, unable to move.

Then, Tang Bo sighed deeply and turned to the Mount Hua disciples. “You too, don’t interfere when your elder is speaking!”

“... speak?” Yoon Jong nearly fainted.

“THIS IS CALLED MURDER!” Baek Cheon was nearly in tears from frustration.

“Shut up, Dong Ryong!”
“Shut up!”

The two saints snapped at the same time, voices overlapping.

“Don’t you dare tell my Sasuk what to do!” Cheong Myeong swung his sword furiously, veins standing out on his neck. “You crazy bastard!”

Tang Bo only snorted. “Hah. The pot calling the kettle black.”

“YOU—!”

“If you want to rage, then rage!” Tang Bo’s voice boomed, unflinching. “But do you really think I’ll let you walk into a battlefield half-dead while I wait somewhere safe? Don’t be ridiculous! Who else is going to stop you from throwing your life away?!”

Cheong Myeong’s eyes flared. “What about you?! In your condition, what can you even do? Even the weakest third-grade disciple in Mount Hua would be more useful than you are right now!”

A sharp gleam lit Tang Bo’s emerald eyes. “Says the man who couldn’t even notice me tailing him all the way here. Tell me, Hyung-nim, have you grown dull?”

The words hit like a hammer. Cheong Myeong froze mid-step, lips pulling back in a low, animalistic growl.

“Enough! Both of you!” Baek Cheon stepped between them, his voice strained, sweat dripping down his temple. “If you care about each other, there are better ways to show it!” His shoulders sagged as if the argument had drained him more than a dozen duels.

‘Why does it feel like we have two Cheong Myeongs now?’ he thought bitterly.

Yoo Iseol, silent until now, finally broke in, her voice calm but cutting. “Sajil. The mission.”

The reminder sliced through the air like ice water.

There was a moment of silence.

Cheong Myeong sighed heavily, then nodded once.

"I know." He freed himself from the grip of Yoon Jong and Jo Geol. However, when he turned back to Tang Bo, his eyes conveyed something much deeper than anger or annoyance. There was an untold truth—that his selfishness wanted this man by his side, even though he would never say it out loud.

Tang Bo caught it. He said nothing more. He just bowed his head slightly, hiding his faint smile.

Cheong Myeong let out a sharp snort. “If you think I’ll let you fight in that condition, you’re out of your damn mind.”

Tang Bo’s grin curved bitterly. “Then kick me out. But don’t complain if I suddenly show up on the battlefield. You know I can.”

The Mount Hua disciples swallowed in unison. The tension between the two men pressed down on the air like two immovable mountains about to collide.

“You told me to go home,” Tang Bo continued, emerald eyes narrowing. “But Sichuan is my home, Taoist hyung-nim. This is where I belong.”

Cheong Myeong froze, the words stabbing deeper than he wanted to admit. He sighed heavily, dragging a hand down his face. He knew he’d regret this choice. But if Cheong Myeong was the most shameless bastard under the heavens, then Tang Bo was the most stubborn.

“Damn it! Fine. You can come.”

Tang Bo immediately stood up straight, but before he could speak, Cheong Myeong raised his sword and pointed it at him.

"But only as my shadow behind me. You won't move unless I tell you to. You don't speak unless I ask you to. You don't act recklessly unless I'm unconscious or dead. Understand?!"

Tang Bo stared at him for a long time, as if he wanted to protest. His lips parted, then closed again. A faint smile appeared on his face, this time without a trace of mockery.

“…Understood.”

A moment of silence enveloped them. Only then did Tang Bo step back to fill the weakest part of their formation, making Cheong Myeong his anchor at the same time. His movements were light and natural, as if he had belonged there all along.

"What about your sword?" Tang Bo showed the dark plum blossom sword he had taken from Tang Jo Pyung's workshop before coming here.

"You keep it."

The Mount Hua disciples glanced at each other. Baek Cheon was about to speak, but then closed his mouth again. They all knew it wasn't just an order — it was an admission. It was his own way of compromising with the concerns Tang Bo had expressed earlier. It was a promise that he wouldn't go all out because he was still recovering.

Cheong Myeong clicked his tongue softly, then waved his hand forward. "Enough wasting time. Let's move."

The formation began to move along the rocky road, illuminated by the pale moonlight filtering through the trees. Dry leaves rustled in the wind, but their footsteps remained almost silent.

Cheong Myeong walked at the front, moving casually yet alertly, his eyes scanning the darkness of the forest. Behind him, Tang Bo adjusted his breathing and pace so smoothly that it was hard to believe he had just been forced to retreat. From any angle, it seemed as if a second shadow was silently and invisibly covering Cheong Myeong's back.

Soon, they arrived at a small, dark and quiet village. The abandoned houses appeared to have been burned, and the air was filled with the smell of undried blood. As soon as they set foot inside, faint voices and movement emerged from behind the ruins. The remnants of the Demon Sect emerged, their red eyes glowing in the moonlight.

"The enemies are on the verge of collapse because of the pursuit of the Tang warriors, but that will make them even more desperate. They don't care whether they live or die, all they want is to take as many lives as possible with them."

Without hesitation, the Mount Hua disciples immediately formed a line. Swords raised, breath steady, eyes sharp. Tang Bo was initially prepared to jump in, but his body froze when he realised something.

Cheong Myeong did not lunge forward to attack as he usually would have done. Instead, he took a half-step forward and signalled with a single hand gesture or glance. Strangely, that was enough.

"Let's do this like practice, stay alert" The instructions were short and firm, and the young warriors moved as if they had been trained for decades.

Tang Bo watched closely. The swords of the Mount Hua disciples flashed, not with the absolute perfection of an expert, but with courage and complete confidence. Every time one of them was about to be overwhelmed, Cheong Myeong would see it first, cutting off the enemy's momentum or quickly shifting formations. He maintained the rhythm, controlled the flow and ensured that none of them were left behind.

Even more surprisingly, throughout it all, Cheong Myeong barely swung his sword. He merely channelled pressure — one sharp glance, one light step was enough to make the enemies lose momentum.

Tang Bo was silent. It was only when the situation truly reached its peak, when a group of opponents charged at once, that Cheong Myeong finally drew his sword and joined his disciples. But when that happened, Tang Bo saw something that made his chest tighten. The swords of Mount Hua were no longer just following him, they were moving with him.

The plum blossoms bloomed once more in Sichuan.

They seemed to share a single breath, a single heartbeat. And, for the first time in his life, Tang Bo felt that the position he had always believed was his alone — standing shoulder to shoulder with Cheong Myeong — had been taken by someone else.

His lips curved into a faint smile, but it felt bitter.

'So this is it, huh?'

What he saw before him was not just a group of youngsters storming the remains of the Demon Sect. It was a living formation. Their movements were sometimes clumsy and sometimes rough, but there was a clear rhythm to them — and that rhythm came from one person in their middle. Cheong Myeong.

Tang Bo swallowed hard and an old memory flashed through his mind.

Those nights when it was just the two of them fighting, their backs to each other in the darkness. Cheong Myeong would sweep away thousands of enemies with his glowing sword while Tang Bo rained down on small gaps with hidden weapons. There were no words or signals—just a breath or a glance, and they moved in unison.

Now, that sight was no more. Cheong Myeong was surrounded by other people, and his footsteps were now mixed with many others. The formation had been formed without him, and he stood outside the circle.

Tang Bo clenched his jaw. His fingers reflexively reached for the hilt of his dagger, but he stopped himself immediately. The qi inside his body was still chaotic and unstable. The energy that had once flowed as swiftly as a rushing river was now more like a thick swamp, slow and sluggish. Even attempting a single move made his body tremble.

Frustration burned in his chest.

Once, he was the only one who could match Cheong Myeong. He was the only one who could keep that back free from injury. But now? He wasn't even sure his body could withstand an attack from the weakest Mount Hua disciple.

His smile faded, replaced by a bitter expression that was almost impossible to hide.

"Damn it..." he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. “Even to stand by your side again, my body won’t allow it.”

But his gaze never left Cheong Myeong's back. It was still the same, leading, carrying the burden and lighting the fire that made everyone move. Even though his old role had been taken away and his body had betrayed his determination, he still couldn't look away.

Just as frustration began to consume his thoughts, a shout rang out from the formation.

“Cheong Myeong! Behind y—”

A black shadow darted between the gaps in the Mount Hua formation, moving with the speed of a snake ambushing its prey. The smell of blood mingled with cold breath as it broke through the ranks, heading straight for Cheong Myeong.

Tang Bo's eyes widened. The chaotic qi in his body spun wildly and he felt as if his flesh was being peeled from within. But before his mind could come up with a thought, his body was already in motion.

His right arm swept aside his robe and his fingers plucked a small hidden weapon. The thin metal shot out, its cold light slicing through the air just as the enemy's sword was about to pierce Cheong Myeong's neck.

Clang!

Sparks flew. Tang Bo's secret weapon deflected the blade as if the world itself refused to let Cheong Myeong die. In a follow-up move, Tang Bo spun, crushing the enemy's throat with a long needle that had suddenly appeared in his hand. The enemy fell face down, blood flowing onto the ground.

Silence.

The Mount Hua disciples, who had previously been screaming in panic, now stood frozen to the spot.

"El... elder... just now..." one whispered, his voice choking.

The movement had been too fast, too natural and too deadly for them to comprehend.

Tang Bo took a deep breath, trying to hide the tightness in his chest. His fingers trembled slightly, but his gaze remained cold and indifferent. When he turned his head, his gaze accidentally met that of the disciples — their eyes filled with amazement.

At that moment, Cheong Myeong turned around.

He had been holding his sword aloft since earlier. He wasn't surprised or panicking. There was only a complex face — partially relieved, slightly worried, but behind it all, one thing pierced Tang Bo's heart more than anything else. Trust.

He knew.

That bastard knew.

He had deliberately left that opening, knowing that Tang Bo would close it.

Tang Bo's heart trembled violently.

No matter how often Cheong Myeong hurled insults, sarcasm, and even harsh words about his current weakness—in the end, that man still had his back on him. Just like before.

That role had never been taken away, not even by the disciples of Mount Hua. It had always been left open, reserved for one person, waiting for its owner to return.

And finally, the man’s voice could be heard. Light, but firm.

"My back... I entrust it to you."

With that, the Sword Saint turned and resumed his attack. His sturdy back was no longer alone, yet his heart still screamed, urging Tang Bo to chase after him once more.

Tang Bo bowed his head slightly and swallowed the bitter yet warm sensation flooding his chest.

In this world, there was no greater acknowledgement than that.

Those words pierced deep into Tang Bo's heart.

His bitter smile broke and was replaced by something softer, though his hands still trembled and the qi within his body remained chaotic.

For a moment, he stood motionless, his breath caught in his throat, as if time itself refused to move forward.

Old memories surfaced—Cheong Myeong's back, which he had always followed, the reckless steps that somehow always brought him out alive from hell, and the unconditional trust that once belonged only to the two of them.

A trust that never faded.

A bond that not even time or fate could break.

Tang Bo drew a long breath, then let a faint smile slip across his lips—a smile unseen by anyone, not even Cheong Myeong.

It wasn’t the smile of victory. Nor the smile of arrogance.

It was simply the smile of a man who had found his place again.

At the side of the Plum Blossom Sword Saint.

Where he had always belonged.

From the very beginning.

***

Morning in Sichuan was calmer than the previous night. The air was still damp with dew and the sun was just peeking out from behind the mountains. On one of the terraces, Cheong Myeong was sitting with his back against a wooden pillar. He held a piece of dried meat in one hand and was feeding it to Baek Ah little by little. Baek Ah devoured it with satisfaction.

He remained silent, his gaze fixed intently on the small devine beast, and exhaled profoundly.

"You greedy thing. You're the luckiest, you know?" he muttered softly. Baek Ah glanced up briefly before returning to chewing.

Cheong Myeong's eyes occasionally glanced towards the main hall, where the Tang family were gathered. None of them asked about the outcome of the mission, how many enemies had been killed or how dire the situation had been. All their attention was focused on one thing: Tang Bo.

“Has his qi flared up again?”

“How’s your qi flow?”

“Have you eaten enough?”

Cheong Myeong snorted softly, pouting slightly. All their hard work last night seemed insignificant compared to a small wound on Tang Bo’s body.

“Tch.” He gently tapped Baek Ah’s forehead. "Look at that. We risk our necks, and all they care about is one idiot as if we’re just extras in this story.”

Baek Ah looked up and tilted his head, then went back to chewing, seemingly unconcerned.

Jealousy was childish—he knew that. Still, the tightness in his chest was undeniable. This was Tang Bo’s home, the place that worried for him, the place that belonged to him. For someone like Cheong Myeong, an orphan who had never known that kind of warmth, the difference was glaring. Mount Hua elders cared, yes, but it was the care of teachers for disciples, not the bone-deep affection of family.

He recalled the words that had come out of Tang Bo's mouth the previous night.

'You told me to go home, but Sichuan is my home, Taoist hyung-nim. This is where I belong.'

“…Then, what should I do?” he murmured softly.

Taking Tang Bo with him meant dragging the man into endless danger, and he knew it. But leaving him in Sichuan meant walking again with an empty back, without the shadow that had always been behind him.

He remembered an old promise to protect Tang's family. But now Tang Bo was back. Wouldn't it make more sense to return that promise to its owner, rather than keeping it for ourselves?

This is his home. Not Mount Hua. Not my side. Here.

He sighed deeply.

The problem was that he knew Tang Bo was not the kind of man to sit idly by in Sichuan. Just last night, Tang Bo had made it clear with his gaze and actions that he wanted to be by his side.

Cheong Myeong smiled wryly and bitterly. "You're really confusing, Bo-ya."

Cheong Myeong had always believed that he was someone who had clear boundaries about what he liked and disliked, about what he wanted and didn't want.

But Tang Bo was the one person he could never figure out. He said that Sichuan was where he belonged, yet his body always chased after Cheong Myeong.

He looked up and gazed at the morning sky, which was beginning to brighten.

"If I were sane, I wouldn't keep you by my side."

If Cheong Myeong had used his common sense, he would have left Tang Bo here because this was his home, not those mountains. He should have told Tang Bo to choose Sichuan and the Tang family over the Plum Blossom Sword Saint because that would be best for him.

“But the problem is…” His lips twisted into a bitter smile. “…I’m not sane.”

"It's a good thing you're at least self-aware."

The voice sounded casual, but it penetrated his ears clearly.

Cheong Myeong turned his head and saw Tang Bo standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and a slight smile spreading across his dimpled cheeks. He had been standing there listening for who knew how long.

Baek Ah stopped chewing, turned to look at Tang Bo, and then went back to eating as if he was completely unfazed or simply didn't care.

Meanwhile, Cheong Myeong could only attempt to look displeased, which unfortunately didn't work at all.

“I told you not to walk around using that footwork. It’s annoying.”

"I'm not going to change my habits just because you asked me to."

"If you keep showing up like that, my heart might stop before the enemy even gets the chance to make a move."

Tang Bo raised his eyebrows and smiled crookedly. "If your heart is stopped just because of me, then it means death is already due for you. It has nothing to do with me.”

“Your tongue’s gotten even more poisonous since you came back.”

“No, it’s because I’ve been hanging out with you for too long.”

Cheong Myeong was about to throw a piece of dried meat at Tang Bo, but Baek Ah jumped up quickly and grabbed it first, making Tang Bo chuckle softly.

The atmosphere suddenly fell silent. Only the morning breeze blew, carrying the scent of herbs drying on the nearby porch. Tang Bo slowly lowered himself and sat down beside Cheong Myeong. He stared straight ahead at the front yard, his expression calm as if nothing had disturbed him.

"I heard Mount Hua will be returning soon," he said gently.

Cheong Myeong tensed instantly. He stopped stroking Baek Ah's head with his fingertips. Then, with a long sigh, he forced his voice to remain flat.

“Of course we have to go back. There are still many things I need to do after Bongmun. As soon as we open the sect's gates, we have to go to Xi'an. But then, before we could return, we were dragged to Sichuan. Do you know how chaotic the situation is—ah, forget it." He fell silent, his lips curling bitterly.

Tang Bo remained silent, not interrupting.

“The point is,” Cheong Myeong continued, not daring to look away, “the best thing to do right now is let you recover here. "I'm too busy to focus solely on your recovery."

Tang Bo stayed silent.

"I've kept my promise to take care of the Tang family," Cheong Myeong's voice grew louder, as if to mask the tremor in his heart, "and since you're back, you have to do it yourself."

More silence.

"Besides, that doesn't mean we won't meet or fight together again. It's just that the situation isn't right at the moment. While I take care of things out there, it's safer for you to stay with the Tang family. They will protect you."

Tang Bo didn't respond, only tilting his head slightly, which caused Cheong Myeong to bite his lip in frustration.

"You're the one who said you wanted to return to the Tang family and start contributing, aren't you? There's a lot you can do here. A-Pyung is with you too...”

And then, of course, there's that silence again.

Finally, Tang Bo spoke. His voice was calm, but it made Cheong Myeong feel cornered.

“Are you done?”

Cheong Myeong swallowed hard. The words that had been on the tip of his tongue had suddenly disappeared, leaving only a feeling of emptiness. He knew very well that Tang Bo could read his heart. All his previous words had been excuses, a fragile barrier to hide his fear.

He couldn't bring himself to look back, and could only shift his gaze to the floor of the porch, stroking Baek Ah's soft fur more firmly than before.

Finally, Tang Bo glanced over at him, his gaze calm yet piercing, cutting through all the lies. "You're right. Family comes first. I was born here, and after I went away, I owed them a lot."

He paused for a moment, lowering his voice.

"…But never underestimate the significance of your existence to me, hyung-nim."

Cheong Myeong lowered his head, hiding his expression behind his fringe that covered his drooping eyes. "You're stupid. Staying here is clearly better for you.”

"If I only wanted a comfortable life, maybe yes." Tang Bo laughed briefly and bitterly. “But I know that, in the end, you will leave. I don’t want to wait for news of your death from so far away. I’d rather go with you, and either die or live together. That’s my choice.”

Cheong Myeong fell silent. A warm yet suffocating feeling welled up in his chest.

Tang bo then smiled “You’ve done enough for the Tang family. They can manage a while longer without me. Besides, I’m useless to them right now — I’d only be a burden. If I’m to help them and start to contribute to the family, the first step is to regain my old strength, maybe even surpass it. And in the whole Central Plain, the only one who can push me that far is… the Plum Blossom Sword Saint.”

“…Stubborn.” Cheong Myeong grunted.

Tang Bo’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “You too.”

“Leech,” Cheong Myeong muttered.

“Ow, that hurts.” Tang Bo rubbed his chest theatrically, then let out a short laugh.

Baek Ah glanced up, as if in agreement, and licked the last scrap of dried meat from Cheong Myeong’s finger.

For the first time that morning, Cheong Myeong smiled faintly — a smile that rarely appeared without care.

"Then don't blame me if one day you regret following my path."

Tang Bo stretched, then stood up. "Do you think I haven't regretted it enough since the first time I met you? It’s too late to go back now.”

Cheong Myeong lifted his head and gazed at his friend with a mixture of frustration and relief, finally snorting. “Ungrateful bastard.”

Tang Bo patted Cheong Myeong on the shoulder, briefly playing with his long black hair, then walked into the house with a casual stride. "I leave the family patriach's permission to you."

Cheong Myeong remained leaning against the pillar, closing his eyes and stroking Baek Ah’s head.

“... brat,” he said again, but this time his voice was much softer.

Cheong Myeong has very clear boundaries about what he likes and dislikes. He likes cheap liquor, warm white rice and fights that make his blood boil, but he hates lengthy bureaucracy, people who act like they know everything and, of course, emotional moments that leave him speechless.

But this warm feeling in his heart... he doesn't hate it.

Even after Tang Bo had left the terrace, he could still feel it, leaving him alone with Baek Ah, who was now fast asleep in his lap. The gentle breeze from the yard carried the scent of herbs. For the first time in a long while, Cheong Myeong allowed himself to lean back calmly without wanting to run away or avoid his feelings.

Time crept by slowly. The sun rose, then slowly moved westward. What had started as a quiet day turned busy. the Tang family servants bustled about, the Mount Hua disciples tidied up their equipment for the trip home and the elders prepared for the afternoon meeting.

When the gong sounded three times to signal the start of the meeting, Cheong Myeong returned with his usual lazy expression, as if nothing had happened that morning. He walked into the meeting room and slumped into his chair with an air of indifference.

The meeting room was steeped in solemn air. Elders of Mount Hua sat on one side, the Tang family elders and direct members on the other. The discussion flowed with grim weight—routes back to Shaanxi, logistics for travel, potential dangers along the borders.

Everyone was focused, faces tight with concentration.

And then—

“Oh, right,” Cheong Myeong said, as if remembering something trivial. He leaned back lazily in his seat, one arm resting on the table. “I’ll be bringing Tang Bo with me. So, make sure his accommodations are prepared as well.”

The room froze.

“…”

“…What?” one elder croaked.

“…Pardon?” another blinked rapidly.

The meeting room suddenly fell silent.

Tang Gunak, the head of the Tang family, nearly spat out his tea. The Mount Hua elders turned their heads in unison, their pale faces looked as if they had just heard an ultimatum. Even Baek Cheon, the representative of the disciples, who was usually calm, coughed reflexively. 

Hyun Jong let out a long, exhausted sigh, as if ten years of his life had just vanished. “Why ... why does it always have to be him?”, eyes darting in panic.

It was the familiar nightmare of their daily lives, their youngest, or maybe their ancestor, the most reckless disciple in 100 years of mount hua, dropping a line that could topple the whole sect’s reputation in one breath.

The mount hua elders, however, all snapped their heads toward the head of tang family, faces paling.

"W-what do you mean by bringing Tang Bo?" the head of the Tang family's voice trembled. "He is a member of the Tang family! You can't just—"

Cheong Myeong raised his eyebrows, his expression calm and lazy. "Why can't I? I was the one who discovered him first, and I was also the one who rescued him from the demonic sect. Therefore, it is only right that he belongs to me. He is mine. So It's up to me what I do to him."

“You… what do you mean by that?” Tang gunak asked carefully, his voice trembling. They had seen Cheong Myeong’s sharp tongue before, but now—was he declaring ownership? Treating Tang Bo, their elder like an asset, a servant or worse, a ... slave!?

The young man tilted his head, eyes narrowing just slightly. A mischievous smile, a devil smile, tugged at his lips. “Who knows? What do you think I mean?”

And Cheong Myeong, as if savoring the chaos he had just unleashed, lifted his cup and took a slow sip of wine.

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