“So he’s gone… he’s gone.”
Tang Yeom-cho slumped his shoulders in sheer devastation, an involuntary sigh of lament escaping his lips. Raising his head a beat later, Nan Wi-jeong spoke, seemingly trying to comfort his grandfather.
“You must have heard him. And knowing the kind of person he is, he will undoubtedly appear before us once again someday.”
“Yes… the Immortal Healer truly is that kind of person. When you desperately search for him, he is nowhere to be found, as if he never existed at all. Yet, when you truly need him, he suddenly appears, offers his miraculous aid, and vanishes just as swiftly.”
Tang Yeom-cho’s eyes, deeply wrinkled and dotted with rough, unsightly warts, stared blankly at the empty Tang Clan walls for a long time. There was absolutely no way to fill the gaping, hollow void that felt as though it had been violently carved out of his chest.
“However, we were foolish once again. We were granted twenty years, yet we failed to demonstrate any meaningful progress. Do you genuinely believe we will succeed the next time? That is what terrifies me. I am so terrified of making such grand promises, only to inflict disappointment upon him yet again.”
His ambitions remained fierce and towering, but his body had grown far too old. Though his title as a martial artist artificially sustained his life, he had reached an age where it wouldn’t be remotely surprising if his mind suddenly began to fail him.
Tang Yeom-cho sat on the bare dirt path for a long time, pouring out his regrets and lamentations. Nan Wi-jeong, who had only ever known the notoriously difficult and stubbornly rigid Clan Head, was profoundly shaken by this unprecedented display of his grandfather’s vulnerability. He remained silently and faithfully by the old man’s side.
It will be fine. I will assist you. You will succeed. Everyone will reform their mindsets and finally understand. Have we not learned profound lessons, and survived a catastrophe monumental enough to wake us all?
Nan Wi-jeong’s soft, rhythmic murmurs, gently consoling his grandfather, continued for a very long time. This was the exact day the Sichuan Tang Clan finally, truly gained the man known as ‘Nan Wi-jeong’.
***
Why are they always dropping to their knees at the drop of a hat…
He had been so incredibly flustered he simply walked away without even offering a proper response. Having already vaulted over the outer wall, no amount of regret would allow him to turn back now.
No, actually, I should consider this a blessing.
If this was their reaction when he tried to slip away secretly in the dead of night, he couldn’t even imagine the grotesquely lavish, suffocatingly burdensome farewell ceremony they would have orchestrated had he left during the day.
Furthermore, had he actually stayed to respond, it was painfully obvious he would have been trapped for hours, forced to listen to every single one of Tang Yeom-cho’s desperate lamentations.
So honestly, this was the right call.
Desperately rationalizing his actions, Cho Yoon kept his feet moving. He intended to utilize his lightness arts to drastically cut down their travel time until they cleared the forest and entered the city proper. His children were keeping pace remarkably well.
Although they hadn’t yet mastered the ability to completely mask their qi signatures or their footsteps, they had built a solid enough foundation that they didn’t stumble even while sprinting across unpaved, rugged terrain in the pitch-black night. Even after running continuously for nearly a full gak, their breathing remained perfectly steady, showing no signs of exhaustion.
They really are growing remarkably fast.
Running with a deeply satisfied heart, Cho Yoon finally drew to a halt when civilian houses began to appear in the distance. The trailing children arrived one by one, gathering closely around him. Fearing that unwanted ears might be listening, Cho Yoon finally voiced the instructions he hadn’t dared speak within the Tang Clan’s walls.
“There is somewhere we must visit before we officially leave Chengdu. Do any of you have a guess as to where?”
“No, not at all.”
Meeting Cho Yoon’s gaze, Sa-yeong shook her head emphatically. He had only sent the telepathic message to Cheon-oh, and Cheon-oh was the only one who understood the significance of the “crimson birch forest,” so her ignorance was entirely natural.
Deploying a sound-isolation barrier just in case, Cho Yoon led them into the sparsely populated village. His face had frozen over, radiating an icy, absolute hostility that was distinctly different from his usual demeanor.
Had he not been wearing his bamboo hat, the children—who had never witnessed such a terrifying expression on their master’s face—would have undoubtedly been paralyzed with fear.
Retracing the exact path he had walked once before, Cho Yoon delivered his notification in a flat, emotionless voice.
“We are currently on our way to meet the person who left that gash on your arm. He was kind enough to establish a rendezvous point for us.”
“Excuse me?”
Startled out of his wits, Sa-hyeon abruptly halted his steps.
Conversely, Sa-yeong merely frowned slightly, not looking particularly surprised by the revelation.
“B-But… that’s… i-it’s going to be dangerous, Master. T-Those people are…”
“It will be dangerous. Compared to them, the Tang Clan likely falls into the category of ‘cute’.”
Cho Yoon glanced back at Sa-hyeon, who had frozen solid two steps behind them. If Cho Yoon’s deductions were correct—and if the original novel’s descriptions held true—he was essentially marching three young wildcats directly into the den of a thousand-year-old demon fox.
However, he possessed his own unique brand of absolute certainty and confidence. He would not dare harm Cho Yoon or the children. And even if they did attempt something so foolish, Cho Yoon had absolutely zero intention of sitting back and taking it.
Above all else, Cho Yoon was currently operating not as a teacher, but as a deeply infuriated parent.
The precious child he had raised with the utmost care and affection had suddenly come home battered and bleeding, permanently scarred for life. And now, the perpetrator’s faction had the audacity to contact them first, requesting a meeting? He absolutely refused to let this slide.
Had this occurred in the modern world, summoning the school violence committee at the Office of Education wouldn’t have been enough; he would have filed criminal charges immediately.
“Trust me. I do not blindly push you into dangerous situations without a foolproof countermeasure.”
Even if I have to physically rip out every single hair on their heads today, I am going to make them grovel and apologize directly to my kids.
Making that fierce, bloodthirsty vow, Cho Yoon glared daggers at the front gates of the house looming just ahead. Beyond the stone walls, a dense, meticulously cultivated forest of crimson birch trees was clearly visible.
It was the exact same location where Cho Yoon and Cheon-oh had previously treated the courtesans afflicted with plum blossom sores.
As they approached the gates, they creaked open slightly before Cho Yoon could even knock, exactly as they had last time. The figure who emerged was the brown-haired escort warrior they had already encountered once before.
Simultaneously recognizing him as the exact same man who had abducted Baek Ho-cheol during the catastrophic raid on the Sichuan Tang Clan, Sa-hyeon inhaled a sharp, terrified breath.
The moment the warrior ushered Cho Yoon’s group inside and firmly bolted the gates shut, he immediately bowed deeply toward Cho Yoon, offering a rigid, impeccably polite martial salute.
“I offer my greetings, esteemed Great Hero. We have been expecting you.”
“…”
“Please, allow me to guide you inside.”
Even though Cho Yoon didn’t offer a single word in response, and the children were glaring at him with eyes brimming with intense hostility, the warrior remained entirely unfazed, as if he possessed an absolute, unshakeable confidence in his backing. Turning his back to them as if merely fulfilling his assigned duty, he began walking toward the main building.
Trailing behind him, Cho Yoon abruptly spoke up, “Seeing as your complexion has noticeably improved, it appears the medicine worked exceptionally well.”
You completely botched managing your subordinates, leaving my kid’s arm looking like that, and you somehow managed to sleep well? You actually had the nerve to sleep?
However, in stark contrast to his intended searing sarcasm, the words that actually left his mouth sounded incredibly calm and collected. Consequently, the warrior’s reply was equally polite, leaving Cho Yoon feeling slightly awkward and deflated.
“It was exactly as the esteemed Great Hero’s legendary reputation promised. Thanks to your medicine, I was finally able to enjoy a deep, uninterrupted slumber for the first time in ages. I am profoundly grateful.”
The warrior guided Cho Yoon’s group deep into the main building.
Unlike their previous visit, where they had occupied an outer room brightly illuminated by lanterns, this time they were forced to walk down a seemingly endless corridor faintly lit by scattered candles. Perhaps overwhelmed by the suffocating tension, the children remained entirely silent, nervously scanning their surroundings and swallowing dryly.
Silently comforting them with his presence, Cho Yoon expanded his qi senses outward.
Including the warrior, there are only three people present. As for traps… there doesn’t seem to be anything noteworthy. If push comes to shove, I’ll just flatten all of them.
Feeling a bizarre sense of wonder at his own complete lack of hesitation or moral revulsion at the prospect of physically harming another human being, Cho Yoon continued walking. The only footsteps echoing against the wooden floorboards belonged to the three individuals in his immediate vicinity.
The room waiting at the absolute end of the corridor radiated an entirely different echelon of extravagant luxury before they even stepped inside.
The hand-carved, hexagonal wooden lattices adorning the sliding doors were meticulously painted crimson, with a delicate peony sculpted into the center of each one. The paper stretched across the doors featured an elegant, antique landscape painting.
Sliding the magnificent doors open to either side, the warrior stepped back, gesturing for them to enter.
Crossing the threshold, Cho Yoon stepped into the room.
Illuminated brightly by strategically placed gold-leafed candles, the room wasn’t particularly expansive, but every available inch was densely packed with exorbitantly luxurious artifacts.
Ink-wash painting scrolls and exquisite silk heavily embroidered with gold and silver threads cascaded generously down the walls.
An incense burner, meticulously carved into the shape of a half-human, half-serpent entity, steadily exhaled a subtle, intoxicating floral fragrance.
A mother-of-pearl lacquerware cabinet, its profound age paradoxically elevating its immense value, shimmered brilliantly under the candlelight.
Resting atop it were a vanity adorned with a polished silver mirror and a jagged piece of blood-red coral.
It’s excessive. It is aggressively, overwhelmingly luxurious.
And yet, because every single element harmonized so flawlessly, it didn’t feel remotely vulgar or tacky. He felt as though he could already perfectly deduce the distinct personality of the master who had meticulously curated this space.
Looking down at the floor, he spotted four silk cushions adorned with golden tassels, and the sprawling hem of a vibrant crimson silk robe.
His gaze naturally trailed upwards along the elegant fabric, and Cho Yoon finally laid eyes upon the individual seated gracefully on the plush mattress at the far end of the room.
“Welcome, esteemed Great Hero. Please forgive my profound rudeness in receiving you while seated.”
A voice as flawlessly clear and resonant as a perfectly spherical moonstone gently rolling across a silver platter. A smile blooming as effortlessly and naturally as a delicate flower bud bursting open in the dead of night.
His ominous premonitions had, once again, proven catastrophically accurate. Cho Yoon knew this person intimately.
Because the original novel had explicitly featured only two major factions intrinsically tied to ‘brothels’, he had desperately hoped he was wrong, but…
“I am called ‘Hui’, the leader of an utterly insignificant, humble faction.”
A man so breathtakingly beautiful it felt inherently ominous.
The mastermind actively orchestrating every major event concealed behind the truth.
A living blessing possessing an incredibly capricious, volatile will.
The absolute sovereign ruling over all things deemed useless by the world.
The final, indispensable tile required to achieve absolute victory.
The individual sitting gracefully before him, draped in endless layers of cascading silk robes and looking up with a smiling pair of piercing, sapphire-blue eyes, was none other than the Sect Leader of the Hao Sect—Hui.