That night, Namgung Woon, Namgung Yeon, and Jin Cheon-hee gathered in the tea room.

Tang Ah had gone to bed early. In a duel, it’s not uncommon for the victor to be more exhausted than the loser, and today was a perfect example. She had apparently used up every last bit of her daily energy, falling into a sleep so deep she wouldn’t wake even when called.

Namgung Woon spoke first. “Little Brother Jin, your ability to fight so well against the Tang Clan’s finest new talent, all with just two years of training… that is because of the Zhuge Clan’s secret art, the Profound Primordial Complete Foundation Divine Art, isn’t it?”

At the question, Jin Cheon-hee tilted his head slightly. “You seem to know about my Master’s martial arts?”

“The Nine Great Sects and Eight Great Clans are bound to know a certain amount about each other’s arts. Even if the Zhuge Clan met with disaster in the past, that fact hasn’t changed.”

‘The Namgung Clan is arrogant,’ Jin Cheon-hee thought. It was a line that had come up several times in the novel. Everyone in the Murim knew about the destruction of the Zhuge Clan. It was an old story by now.

‘If Master gets married and has a child, the Zhuge Clan line could continue.’ His life as a man on borrowed time was over. If he met a good person, held a wedding, and had children, the Zhuge Clan could easily be rebuilt. He had the strength, the funds, and the reputation.

The only problem was that his Master’s personality was so unique that he had zero interest in things like romantic love.

‘It’s not just men or women… I don’t think Master is particularly fond of people in general.’

From what Jin Cheon-hee had observed, his Master didn’t seem to like humanity all that much. He diligently collected important Murim information that the pavilion needed, but he didn’t give a damn about interesting rumors or gossip.

‘He doesn’t really like animals, either.’

Even Hwang-gu had sensed it. The dog never pestered his Master for affection. In fact, it was more accurate to say he avoided going near him if at all possible.

Jin Cheon-hee shook his head. ‘He lived as a terminally ill person for so long, not forming attachments must have become a habit. It will get better with time.’

Even though he, as a disciple, was learning the secret arts, it felt like a waste to let the Zhuge line end like this.

Jin Cheon-hee brought his thoughts back to the man in front of him. Namgung Woon. His surgery had been a success. This gathering was a farewell party for him, now that he was returning home.

Of course, it was hardly normal for a physician to throw a farewell party every time a patient was discharged. An event like this usually wouldn’t happen. But Namgung Woon was a patient Jin Cheon-hee himself had, in a way, invited. No, to be precise, Namgung Woon himself had insisted on having a farewell party now that things were settled.

And so, on the tea room table sat tea, refreshments, the wine that had been confiscated from Namgung Woon, and the beef jerky that had also been confiscated from Namgung Woon.

‘He really stashed away a lot.’

Some of the jerky had already gone into Hwang-gu’s stomach, but there was still enough left to serve as a snack. And the only one drinking was Namgung Woon. He poured his own confiscated wine into his cup and spoke.

“Profound Primordial Complete Foundation Divine Art. I heard it has the function of developing one’s martial comprehension. It doesn’t build internal energy, but its effectiveness in combat is supposedly terrifying. They say it allows one to create counters to other martial arts and to reverse the tide of a battle with quick improvisation, correct?”

After the duel with Tang Ah, he had become even more interested in Jin Cheon-hee, constantly sticking to him and asking questions. The Nine Great Sects and Eight Great Clans. The eighteen factions that formed the largest pillar of the Murim’s Righteous Faction. Namgung Woon was explaining that it was no secret they all knew a fair amount about each other’s arts, and that he was curious about the reason for Jin Cheon-hee’s rapid growth.

“O-Oppa…” Namgung Yeon watched her brother with a complicated expression.

“The height and depth of one’s martial arts, the shallowness of one’s training,” Namgung Woon said, his voice slightly thick with drink. “Besides those, ignorance of an opponent’s martial characteristics is also a threat. That’s partly why no one helped the Zhuge Clan when they were destroyed.”

Slosh—

The wine filled his cup like a pale moon.

“They were afraid. Afraid of a family that manufactured ‘genius’.”

“Those are heavy words. Are you sure you should be saying such things?”

At Jin Cheon-hee’s question, Namgung Woon let out a hearty “Hahaha!” He acted just like a carefree, elegant young master, but there was a sharp bone hidden beneath the facade.

‘I can’t let my guard down around him.’

This whole event was proof. He was acting drunk, letting his words slur, but those words were sharp as blades.

“Well… just take it as proof of how much I trust you. A martial artist doesn’t just entrust his life to anyone.”

With Tang Ah, the girl from the Sichuan Tang Clan, absent, he was revealing a small sliver of his true self. It was a sign that he acknowledged Jin Cheon-hee. At the same time, it meant that while he cared for Tang Ah like a younger sister, he was also keenly aware of the competitive dynamics between their families. He was disappointed Tang Ah wasn’t awake, but he clearly had no intention of wasting this rare chance for a private conversation.

In the end, Namgung Woon had to bear the future of the Namgung Clan.

‘What a strange man.’ A cultured gentleman, a sharp strategist, and a brilliant swordsman.

Jin Cheon-hee picked up the bottle of Shaoxing wine and poured some into his own teacup.

“Ah, accepting my cup?”

“I’m pouring for myself.”

“My, you really are a cold one, Little Brother Jin.”

Jin Cheon-hee smiled. “Even with the Profound Primordial Complete Foundation Divine Art, it would be impossible to know your true self, Young Hero Namgung.”

“Is that so? In my eyes, you are a much more difficult person to read.”

“…”

Namgung Woon quietly took a sip of his wine before speaking. “People are like this wine. Their shape depends on what contains them. Put it in a bottle, it takes the shape of a bottle. Pour it in a cup, it takes the shape of a cup.”

He spun the cup on his fingertip. The porcelain, infused with his qi, spun like a top, yet not a single drop of wine spilled.

‘Incredible.’

Jin Cheon-hee was genuinely impressed. It was an ordinary ceramic teacup. To infuse it with qi so delicately that it didn’t shatter required exquisite control. And to spin it like that without spilling meant he was also controlling the liquid inside.

‘Is he on the verge of mastering Void-Grasping Art?’

And he was doing it while supposedly drunk. Even if he was just acting drunk, it meant he had reached a state of Immovable Mind.

‘What if that wasn’t a cup, but a blade?’

He could probably slice a man’s throat without spilling a drop of blood.

Namgung Woon continued, “I am a lazy black sheep. I find the family business and my training to be a bother. Staying up all night drinking with a friend like this… this is what I enjoy most.”

Tak.

He set the cup down. It continued to spin like a top even after he removed his hand.

“But I also know my position, and I know what I must do. So, I put in just enough effort not to be a disgrace. And well, just that much seems to keep the family elders satisfied.”

This was a side of Namgung Woon that had never appeared in the novel. He wasn’t a diligent man. He was a man who wanted to do the bare minimum, just enough to fulfill his duty, and spend the rest of his time playing. Yet, even with just that much, he would grow into a swordsman capable of challenging for the title of Number One Sword Under the Heavens.

“And if I wanted one more thing… it would be to make my little Yeon-ah’s cheeks so fat this year that I can… Ouch! Yeon-ah!”

Namgung Yeon was thwacking her brother’s arm again. Namgung Woon yelped in exaggerated pain.

‘So all of it… it’s all his true self?’

What an incredibly arrogant man. He was born a powerhouse, destined to rule as a powerhouse, all without the life-or-death desperation that plagued others. Like a chicken born to live as a chicken, he was a tiger born to live as a tiger.

He didn’t have Jin Cheon-hee’s blood-vomiting desperation. He didn’t have Tang Ah’s burning fighting spirit. He didn’t need to live suppressing a Star of Heavenly Slaughter like Yeo Ha-ryoon. He didn’t have Zhuge Rin’s Heavenly Punishment or his bizarre, twisted sensibilities.

He simply… drifted forward, becoming stronger with the arts he’d learned only grudgingly.

To Jin Cheon-hee, he was like a hawk. While other birds flapped their wings to death, he simply rode the wind, gliding effortlessly at an unreachable height.

‘It leaves a bitter taste.’

His forty-year-old soul was jealous of him. He had seen people like this in his past life, too. Superhumans who could accomplish in one or two hours what took others ten. Jin Cheon-hee prided himself on having studied obsessively as a surgeon, but it had been so hard to keep up with those natural geniuses.

‘And why are they always so nice, on top of it all?’

If he were a terrible person, Jin Cheon-hee could at least hate him openly. But his strength, born without hardship, seemed to have forged a gentle character as well. Namgung Woon was just like that. He was even a good person. Countless martial artists wanted to form a connection with him, and yet, he never became a pushover, always managing to secure what was necessary for the Namgung Clan. He even adored his younger sister—the one others mocked for her stutter—so much that he would eventually help awaken her as the ‘Iron-Blooded Sword Sovereign’.

The alcohol was making Jin Cheon-hee sentimental. He let his inner thoughts slip out. “Young Hero Namgung, I despise you.”

“Hoh? How strange. I find myself liking you a great deal, Little Brother Jin.”

“I’ve been jealous of you since the moment I met you.”

“Is that so? Odd. I don’t believe I’ve ever put on airs around you. Surely, it’s not because of my silk robes from the Nanjing artisan?”

“The White Qilin Medical Pavilion has money, too.”

“That I know very well. The White Qilin Divine Physician… is there anyone in the world more astute than he?”

“That almost sounds like sarcasm.”

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, Little Brother, but I find the White Qilin Divine Physician… frightening.”

“My Master? Why?”

“Sometimes… I can’t tell if he’s smiling at me, or smiling at the thought of killing me. It may be rude to say, but there are times when he doesn’t feel human. More like something with cold blood.”

That made Phantom Archer, Yeo Ha-ryoon, and now Namgung Woon—all three had expressed a similar opinion. His Master really was prone to being misunderstood. Jin Cheon-hee shook his head.

“You’re all mistaken…”

“…You don’t need to convince me. As a member of the Namgung Clan, I will not be lacking in my duties when dealing with him.”

And they were all just as stubborn.

“I simply… like you,” Namgung Woon said. “You said you couldn’t read my true intentions, so I’m telling you. See?”

Jin Cheon-hee scratched his temple. “Is this part of your role for the Namgung Clan?”

“Forming a bond with the Divine Physician’s disciple is, of course, important. But if that were all, I wouldn’t have spoken ill of your Master, would I? That would have been the easier way to earn your favor.”

He was right. Namgung Woon was taking a risk, showing his true inner thoughts.

“Why are you going this far?”

“I told you. I like you, Little Brother Jin. I like seeing you try so hard, and I like seeing you struggle with your thoughts. I also liked that you held back a move at the very end against Tang Ah.”

“…You knew, Young Hero Namgung.”

“Of course.”

Jin Cheon-hee hadn’t used his true abilities in the duel. Against the Hao Sect ruffians and bounty hunters… sure. But this was a duel he had looked forward to. Yet when it started, he just couldn’t bring himself to break the arms or legs of a child who wasn’t even an adult yet.

Would it have been easier if his opponent had been a grown man? When he met those big, bright, calf-like eyes, he just couldn’t. The middle-aged preaching self in his head kept scolding him, asking what the hell he thought he was doing. It was like a forced moment of post-nut clarity.

‘Damn it…’

So, in the end, he had treated the duel as just a duel, and nothing more.

“I would have lost even if I had fought properly.”

“Hmm. Is there anyone in this world who knows vital points better than a physician? My intuition tells me a slightly different story.” He dismissed the notion lightly. “I want to continue building this friendship with you, Little Brother Jin.”