Chapter 182

Even after Tang Sohae left, Yeon Ryang could not tear his gaze from the place where his sister had disappeared.

Taeheo watched the guilt, pride, and worry mingle in his eyes, then patted him on the shoulder.

“See? Didn’t I tell you she was doing well?”

“That looks like doing well to you, old man? Her face used to be so full and bright, but now she’s gotten thin. And she’s wound tight as a bowstring. She must not be sleeping properly...”

“You’re the one who’s gotten thin, you fool. Who are you to worry about anyone else?”

Taeheo scolded him, then regarded Yeon Ryang with a trace of regret.

This is the first demonic practitioner I’ve ever seen with his head screwed on this straight. If only he hadn’t learned demonic arts, I would have taken him in long ago...

The more Taeheo saw of him, the more he seemed like wasted potential.

Had they met earlier, it would have been satisfying to keep Yeon Ryang by his side and teach him everything from the ground up.

Suppressing his regret, Taeheo said,

“This old Daoist will watch over your sister, so stop fretting. You’ll get worked up and burst an energy channel for nothing.”

“Yes. But... is it really all right for you to keep hiding a good-for-nothing like me? I can only be grateful when I’m the one receiving your help, but I’m afraid your sect may find out.”

“That is not your concern.”

“I know perfectly well what the world thinks of the Divine Cult, old man. Once my energy channels recover, I’ll leave immediately.”

Taeheo’s lips curved upward at the implication that Yeon Ryang did not want to burden him any longer than necessary.

He even knows when he’s imposing. Damn it. What a waste. Such a waste.

“As long as no one finds out, there’s no problem. Just don’t go outside. As long as you stay in this old Daoist’s secluded cave, no one will discover you.”

“But—”

“I said it isn’t your problem. Even if the Sect Leader finds out, the worst that’ll happen is that I spend a few years locked in a dungeon before they let me out. Worry about keeping yourself alive instead, you softhearted fool.”

Yeon Ryang stared at Taeheo, who had casually brought up being imprisoned, and looked utterly at a loss.

“Ha... I truly don’t understand how someone like Daoist Jinseong came from under you.”

“Listen to that nasty mouth. What’s wrong with our Jinseong? This old Daoist raised him with the greatest care.”

“I was talking about you, not Daoist Jinseong. I’ve never met anyone who lives as recklessly as you do.”

“This old Daoist has lived long enough. What is there left to hold me back? I simply entrust myself to the flow and let it carry me.”

He had dressed it up elegantly, but all he meant was that he did whatever he pleased.

Yeon Ryang let out a disbelieving laugh and blinked slowly. Then he turned to Taeheo and gave him a formal clasped-hands salute.

“Still... thank you for saving me, old man.”

“Mm.”

Taeheo stroked his beard, smiling with satisfaction at Yeon Ryang.

He had grown rather fond of the Demonic Sect fugitive before him.

*****

Yeon Ryang had been right when he said Jinseong, having so many juniors under him, would know how to teach.

Jinseong was so talented at instruction that I started wondering whether he had been born to teach martial arts.

“Your wrist keeps twisting because of your usual habits, Miss Tang. If you hold a longsword in a reverse grip as though it were a throwing knife, you shorten the sword’s effective path. It also strains the wrist and leaves your body open, making defense difficult. A standard grip would be better.”

“Yes.”

He patiently corrected every tiny movement I made, and within three days I managed to draw and sheathe a sword properly—something even Yeon Ryang had given up on teaching me.

Even I had to admit that my sword-drawing posture looked pretty convincing now.

Ohhh. At this rate, I could probably pretend to be a swordswoman and hide which sect I came from.

I happily swung the wooden sword through the air for a while, until I noticed Songhwa and Songgwang giving me strange looks.

I quietly hid the wooden sword behind my back.

“Daoist Songhwa. Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I was wondering whether you could kill someone with a wooden sword too.”

“...I didn’t throw it. Not today. I didn’t throw it today.”

I pouted at his teasing, and Songhwa grinned.

“I understand, Miss Tang. If someone handed me a throwing knife, I’d probably try to block a live blade with it without knowing any better and get knocked flat.”

“I’ve tried that. It feels like your wrist is going to break. Don’t do it.”

“You tried to block a sword head-on with a throwing knife? How did that happen?”

“That gentleman over there was trying to crush me.”

I shrugged and jerked my chin toward Jinseong.

Songhwa clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“...I already knew this, but your physical strength really is absurd, Miss Tang. We can’t take one of Elder Jinseong’s sword strikes head-on.”

“Am I really that brutish?”

“...”

“A little—mph!”

“Senior Brother. Please be quiet.”

In any case, Jinseong’s intensive lessons had definitely worked.

I was already satisfied just to have stopped letting go of the sword, so I thanked him.

“Thank you for helping me, Daoist Jinseong. I think I can practice by myself from here. Would it be all right if I borrowed a wooden sword sometimes?”

“Of course. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me whenever you like.”

“You’ve already done far more than I could reasonably ask. I can’t keep imposing on you. Really, thank you.”

“It’s all right. You are not imposing.”

Jinseong looked perfectly sincere when he said that, but I still couldn’t bring myself to ask for more.

If the situation were reversed and a guest staying with the Tang Clan started asking questions about concealed-weapon techniques, my furious grandfather would probably seize whoever brought the spy inside by the collar and throw them over the city wall.

I can’t tell whether Wudang is simply less closed-off than we are, or Jinseong is just unusually accommodating.

Maybe he doesn’t care because the Three Powers Sword Art originally came from Wudang? If I think of it as the confidence of a prestigious sword sect, I suppose it makes sense.

Satisfied enough with that explanation, I fiddled with the wooden sword and tried to grow accustomed to its feel.

After that, I practiced alone whenever no one else was around.

I knew no actual sword forms, so all I could do was imitate movements I had seen before. But the more time I spent with a sword in my hand, the easier it became to understand how swordsmen moved.

The greatest gain was how much sharper my sense of distance became.

Once I learned to judge an opponent’s stride and the length of their blade, predicting the sword’s reach and keeping outside it became far easier.

Know yourself and know your enemy, and you need not fear a hundred battles.

The old saying really was right.

If I wanted to fight swordsmen, I needed to understand swords.

Next time, I should try handling a spear too.

With that resolution made, my days fell into a simple rhythm.

Wake up and train.

Eat, then train.

Eat again, then train some more.

My only real pleasure was getting to see Yeon Ryang once every three or four months and chatter with him for a while.

By the time life on Mount Wudang had begun to feel normal, the once-green leaves had turned red and started falling.

*****

Things had seemed unusually busy for the past few days, and now the entire outer compound was bustling.

Lanterns hung everywhere, and the guest quarters were filling with new arrivals. There were so many people around that I barely wanted to venture onto the training ground.

When Madam Ma saw me peering outside in confusion while she prepared my meal, she laughed heartily.

“It’s because the Lower Yuan Festival is almost here. The fifteenth day of the tenth lunar month. It’s the day the Water Official descends to relieve people of misfortune, so pilgrims flock here to make offerings.”

“Already?”

It felt like the Ghost Festival had only just passed, yet the Lower Yuan Festival was already upon us.

At this rate, I’d close my eyes and wake up in the new year.

I ignored the noise outside and spent my time in the guest quarters until night fell.

The moon was nearly full, shining brightly as though announcing that the fifteenth was almost here.

I’m not sleepy anyway. Maybe I should go for a walk.

After debating it for a moment, I threw on an outer robe and stepped outside.

I avoided the crowded areas and wandered along a secluded path at the edge of the outer compound when I heard hushed voices from somewhere nearby.

“Just one sip. One sip. There’s barely any left.”

“Senior Brother, you’ve had the most already. Stop drinking. We only managed to sneak out one bottle.”

“Then why did you only steal one? We only get a chance like this a few times a year...”

“How were we supposed to steal more with Elder Jinseong watching like a hawk? We only got this one because Hyeonmun pretended not to notice.”

“Daoist Songgwang? Daoist Songhwa? What are you doing?”

“Aaagh!”

I poked my head through the bushes.

Songgwang jumped so violently that he screamed and fell flat on his backside.

A bottle of spirits flew into the air.

I caught it and tilted my head at the little group of Daoists huddled together.

There were four third-generation disciples crouched there, and the faint smell of alcohol hung around them.

Apparently, they had been secretly sharing one small bottle among the four of them.

The four hurriedly exchanged glances.

Then Songhwa stood and gave me the most harmless smile he could manage.

“Um, Miss Tang. This is...”

“You don’t have to explain. Here, Daoist Songhwa.”

I waved to show that I didn’t care and held the bottle out to him.

Songhwa’s face immediately brightened.

“Thank you, Miss Tang.”

“Thank you!”

“One bottle doesn’t seem like much for four people. Want me to get you some more?”

“What? Really? Then perhaps five more—”

“Senior Brother, please...”

“I’m joking, Miss Tang. One bottle is plenty.”

“Haha. I’ll get as much as I can. Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Laughing, I turned around.

I went to Madam Ma and got a jar of wine meant for the offering ceremony, along with some snacks, then hurried back.

“Everyone, I’m ba—”

I strode proudly into the spot where the third-generation disciples were gathered.

And the instant I did, the icy atmosphere stopped me dead.

I quickly hid the wine jar behind my back and took a step backward.

“Songhwa. Why is Miss Tang here?”

“W-Well...”

Jinseong’s cold gaze bore down on me.

I felt a hiccup threatening to escape.

Damn it.

My timing could not have been worse.

“Ahaha. Daoist Jinseong. Lovely night, isn’t it? You’re still awake?”

I smiled as casually as I could, but the furrow between Jinseong’s brows showed no sign of disappearing.

He asked stiffly,

“May I see what you are holding?”

“This? It’s nothing.”

“If it is nothing, then I would like to see it. I’m concerned my grand-disciples may have behaved improperly toward a guest.”

Cold sweat trickled down my back at the edge in his voice.

Great.

I’d butted in for no reason, and now Songhwa and the others were going to get absolutely slaughtered.

Songgwang was frantically shaking his head at me, clearly telling me not to show him.

Songrim was already so pale he looked as though his soul had left his body.

If they were already getting chewed out anyway, maybe the best thing I could do was brazen it out.

I took a deep breath, proudly lifted the wine jar, and asked as brightly as possible,

“Would you like to join us?”