Chapter 53

Namgung Seohee (3)

Cheon Muyang followed Namgung Seohee.

When they had climbed halfway up a nearby hill, Namgung Seohee suddenly headed toward a cliff.

"Huh?"

Before he could say anything, Namgung Seohee leaped straight down the cliff.

"Are you insane—!"

Cheon Muyang hurried forward.

Then laughter drifted up from below the cliff.

"…?"

"Down here. This way."

When he looked down,

there was a protruding ledge beneath the cliff.

"Whew."

Cheon Muyang descended.

It was fairly wide—this seemed to be the clearing Namgung Seohee had mentioned.

"I told you, didn't I?"

"…Not bad."

Except for the fact that a single misstep would send one plummeting down the cliff.

The view of West Lake spread out clearly before them, a breathtaking sight.

"You found a place like this."

"The view of West Lake from here is nice."

What flickered briefly across her eyes was solitude.

Cheon Muyang didn't ask about it.

"..."

"Shall we cross swords, then?"

Cheon Muyang smirked.

"Anytime."

The moment his words ended, Namgung Seohee launched herself forward.

The sharp sound of blade scraping against scabbard rang out.

Kiiing!

Her sword shot straight toward Cheon Muyang in a perfect line.

It wasn't an unmanageable strike.

However, midway through, Namgung Seohee's sword accelerated once more.

"…!"

Kang!

He blocked it.

But Cheon-gwang emerged only halfway from its scabbard.

"Not bad."

"You're still far from it."

Namgung Seohee surged forward again.

Her steps were so light they could be called refreshing.

Yet her eyes burned intensely.

'Good eyes.'

The eyes a swordsman ought to have.

Shiiik!

Her sword bore down once more.

The sword path Namgung Seohee envisioned—and sought to draw with her blade—was irresistibly captivating.

'So they call the Namgung Clan the Sword King Family.'

The Namgung Clan was known as the Sword King Family.

A royal house of the sword—so much so that it was said their direct descendants learned the ways of kingship.

'Truly kingly.'

A king could not lean to any one side.

The Middle Way was the quality of a true ruler.

Shiiik!

Her sword cleaved through the wind—fast, but not recklessly swift; heavy, but not ponderous.

It leaned toward neither extreme.

A sword of the Middle Way.

'She's captured every element a sword can hold.'

It wasn't the fastest sword under heaven, yet it was swift.

It wasn't the heaviest sword under heaven, yet it carried weight.

That was the sword of the Namgung Clan—the Middle Way of the Sword King Family.

Kaaang!

"..."

He blocked it again.

Namgung Seohee's sword stopped—

meaning it was now Cheon Muyang's turn.

Yet the tremor running along Cheon-gwang's blade wrapped around Cheon Muyang's entire body.

'It's not over.'

Her sword had been thrown with the expectation that it would be blocked.

The moment it was stopped, Namgung Seohee's true sword revealed itself.

Whoosh!

In an instant, she released her grip.

Catching the falling sword with the hand that had not been holding it—her left—she swung it upward in one fluid motion.

Paaat!

Cheon Muyang twisted his body urgently.

Still, he couldn't evade it completely.

"..."

Whirr!

Namgung Seohee leapt back, creating distance.

It had been no more than two exchanges, yet she couldn't hide her surprise.

'I couldn't finish him.'

The moment a sword was blocked, a gap naturally formed.

Her second strike had been a finishing move aimed squarely at that opening—

yet it hadn't worked.

"A fine sword."

"..."

"But it feels like you're forcing yourself into clothes that don't quite fit."

Cheon Muyang felt regret.

The sword Namgung Seohee had forged was undoubtedly impressive—

yet it also felt as though she were squeezing herself into something ill-suited to her.

"Is that all your sword amounts to?"

"…!"

"If that's all, I'll be disappointed."

Cheon Muyang smiled.

It seemed Namgung Seohee needed to realize the potential she carried.

'She's standing at a crossroads.'

The sword of the Namgung Clan—

or her own sword.

She was standing between those two paths.

Meaning that depending on her choice, she would have to walk a path no one had ever trodden before.

"Don't stand there hesitating. If you want the easy road, take it. If not—"

Cheon-gwang shot skyward.

It was a stance he had always taken.

But to Namgung Seohee, it felt entirely different.

"…!"

"Walk your own path."

Cheon-gwang crashed down from above.

A fierce, overwhelming sword tore through the air, as if ripping the heavens apart, and rushed toward Namgung Seohee.

'My own path…'

Namgung Seohee hesitated.

The direction pursued by the Namgung Clan's sword simply didn't suit her.

'I want…'

Freedom.

Yet the Namgung Clan's sword was rigid, forcing one to walk only a fixed royal road.

'I'll walk my own path.'

That was why she had run away.

A vow—and a declaration—to walk her own road.

So what was there to hesitate over?

Whirr!

Namgung Seohee moved.

Her sword flowed softly, like rippling water.

Whooong!

Though it clearly met Cheon-gwang, there was no clash of steel—

only the sound of blades gently entwining.

Like a Taoist drawing the Taiji, Cheon-gwang followed the path of Namgung Seohee's sword.

Whooong!

A breeze blew from somewhere.

'The wind.'

Riding that wind, Namgung Seohee's sword surged upward in reverse.

Kaaang!

It was blocked.

Cheon-gwang followed her blade, never losing its flow.

"Kuh!"

Namgung Seohee was thrown backward, blood spilling from her mouth.

Yet her expression looked refreshed.

"Th-this sword…"

Her breathing was ragged,

but her eyes, fixed on Cheon Muyang, burned with a strange longing.

How was that sword?

She clearly wanted to ask.

Cheon Muyang chuckled softly as he looked at her, unable even to finish a sentence.

"It's still immature, but—"

In an instant, her head drooped.

She looked disappointed.

But one should always listen to the end.

"It was a good sword."

Wham!

Her head lifted.

Cheon Muyang extended his hand.

"..."

Namgung Seohee grasped his hand and stood up, an indescribable emotion swelling within her.

'I was acknowledged.'

No one in her family had ever acknowledged her sword.

To gain recognition for her sword, she had entered the Dragon–Phoenix Gathering.

Yet all that had remained for her was the epithet Sword Peak.

'For the first time...'

It was the first time.

The first person who had looked at her sword without prejudice.

"Don't hesitate."

"…Yes."

Unaware of her inner thoughts, Cheon Muyang was already considering inviting her to the Cheon Clan.

'It'll help Wolyeong—and everyone else as well.'

Knowing that the path of the sword had no end, simply showing her sword would already be of help.

'She'll grow even stronger from here.'

The unbroken peak had only just begun to bloom.

He wanted to watch that path.

'You've gained a new opportunity without even realizing it. So now I need to prove that I was right.'

Even if it only ended up benefiting the Namgung Clan, it didn't matter.

They walked the same path of the sword.

"Alright. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

She must have suffered fairly deep internal injuries, yet she looked perfectly fine.

It was likely because she had advanced so much that she seemed like a different person from before the duel.

'That's terrifying.'

Cheon Muyang shrugged and continued.

"Shall we go, then?"

"Yes."

For some reason, she seemed unusually compliant.

As they climbed back up the cliff,

Cheon Muyang gazed at the scenery of West Lake filling his vision.

"The sun's setting."

"Ah..."

West Lake dyed in the colors of dusk was truly peerless under heaven.

"Let's go catch the Yin Demon polluting that West Lake."

"Yes. Let's."

Perhaps it was coincidence.

The sunset's glow made her face look faintly flushed.

***

After returning to Hangzhou, the two decided to make their move after preparing separately until an agreed time.

"Hm..."

Cheon Muyang knew nothing of refined pleasures.

However, he had at least observed them before—so now seemed the time to put that knowledge to use.

'Who would've thought that memory would help?'

The former wastrel Cheon Muyang had been a glutton.

Perhaps because of that, he had a better eye for clothing than expected.

'Something like this, I think.'

Of course, back when he was overweight, the clothes hadn't suited him at all.

"Oh my! Sir, you have an excellent eye! This outfit here—freshly delivered from Hebei, a brand-new piece, guaranteed by the Paeng Family of Hebei!"

"..."

Utter nonsense.

Still, it happened to match Cheon Muyang's tastes.

"How much?"

"Well, that is..."

Judging by the shopkeeper's eyes, he was about to be overcharged.

So Cheon Muyang took out a token symbolizing a Cheon Clan warrior.

"If it's not a reasonable price, an investigation will be conducted under Cheon Clan law."

"Gah!"

Cheon Muyang grinned.

"So let's agree on three taels of silver."

A brief silence followed.

The shopkeeper eyed the token suspiciously, wondering if it might be fake.

"…Very well."

"A reasonable price."

The shopkeeper looked dejected.

Cheon Muyang paid the three taels and changed clothes on the spot.

"Whew… This is terribly uncomfortable."

It felt awkward and constricting.

But what could he do?

Even if he didn't want to, he had to play the part of a refined young noble.

"Tsk. I should hurry and catch him."

Cheon Muyang headed toward West Lake.

Glance.

"Oh my."

Even though the distance wasn't far, Cheon Muyang drew countless gazes.

Most came from young women, though the occasional strange look from men was mixed in as well.

Whoosh!

Each time, he nearly reached for Cheon-gwang—

but he endured, exercising superhuman patience.

'I must endure.'

With an awkward smile, Cheon Muyang quickened his steps toward West Lake.

'This is harder than training.'

Extreme cultivation almost seemed easier.

Fortunately, he arrived at West Lake.

The sun had set, and brilliant moonlight illuminated the tranquil waters.

"As expected."

The moon, West Lake, and a woman—

a place that naturally invited indulgence.

"Oh my, sir!"

"Hahahahaha!"

However, the lively clamor made it hard to focus.

'So noisy.'

Just as he frowned—

at some point, all sound vanished.

"Huh?"

The silence was so deep that even the croak of a frog—normally inaudible—could be heard.

Srrrk.

He could clearly sense someone approaching.

'What is it?'

Cheon Muyang turned his head.

There, walking lightly toward him, was Namgung Seohee.

"..."

A beauty that stole his breath.

Closed moon, shamed flowers—was that the phrase?

As if by coincidence, the moon slipped behind the clouds.

As though it could not rival her beauty.

"Interesting."

Amid the countless people of Hangzhou, she alone shone.

Cheon Muyang steadied his turbulent emotions.

'Where is he? Where are you hiding?'

Instead, he searched for the Yin energy mixed among the gazes directed at her.

Namgung Seohee slowly approached him.

"So you were here."

"Ah. Is it alright to approach like this?"

"Of course. Shouldn't I stay beside the most impressive young master here if we want him to move?"

"That's true."

Cheon Muyang smiled.

Namgung Seohee returned the smile.

"Ah..."

Sighs escaped from those around them.

The two looked like a perfect couple; no one even dared approach Namgung Seohee.

"What a fine night."

That was when—

a refined young noble appeared, walking with an elegant folding fan in hand.

"Isn't it?"

Smiling brightly, he stirred the hearts of countless women.

"Ah, yes. It truly is a wonderful night."

Cheon Muyang smiled as he greeted him.

The Thousand-Faced Yin Demon, wearing a deliberately cheerful smile.