Chapter Text
"Chung Myung-ah!"
It was a muffled voice, barely audible.
The child, who for a moment thought someone might have called his name, lifted his head slightly. It was hard to tell if he’d just imagined it, so he held his breath, trying to listen.
In the eerie darkness of the cave—he no longer remembered how long he’d been trapped there—there was only deadly silence… and the faint rustling of something.
The large boulder sealing the entrance of the Cave of Penitence shifted suddenly, slowly and with difficulty.
Then someone peeked inside, tilting their head from behind the rock.
Moonlight illuminated the figure’s back. His eyes were misty and full of flowing tears, yet somehow, he recognized the person standing there.
He wasn’t sure how, but his body, his senses, his entire being simply knew.
"Sago…"
The boy’s tiny voice trembled with tears. The older girl looked at Chung Myung’s frail appearance in alarm as he tried to wipe the streaming tears from his cheeks. She quickly stepped forward.
"Chung Myung-ah, are you okay?!"
Her voice made it clear how worried she was. Well, who wouldn’t be? Seeing Chung Myung cry was nearly unheard of—this boy was more stubborn than adults, refusing to cry no matter what.
As soon as her hands lifted his small body off the uneven ground, his tiny hands reached for the edge of her robe and clung tightly—not out of fear of falling, but for some other reason he couldn’t explain. The loneliness in that place had been too much. He just needed someone to take him out of there.
Cradling the child in her arms, she brushed the dirt and pebbles from his soiled clothes. Then, she gently patted his back, trying to soothe him.
"It’s okay. Look… I’m here now."
"Sago…"
His voice carried a hint of pain and exhaustion. It was obvious his body ached from lying on that harsh floor for too long. And the special pills meant for him had clearly run out some time ago.
As for water...
Chung Myung felt her body tense for a moment. He tried again to wipe his tears for the thousandth time, failing still, then looked up at her with watery eyes.
She was staring off at the empty water jars—now bone-dry. Then suddenly, before he realized what was happening, she stood up. He instinctively clung tighter, afraid of falling.
The descent from the mountain peak was swift and smooth—she leapt from one rock to the next. It kept Chung Myung, who was on the verge of passing out, from closing his eyes even for a second.
In truth, with every moment that passed, he was slowly regaining awareness of his surroundings. Finally, he was able to stop the tears that had flowed uncontrollably.
His small arms clung tightly around her neck, a strange weight pressing against his heart—as if something bad was about to happen.
~
"What did you just say?"
In a simple yet elegant room, the soft glow of candlelight painted the walls in warm, flickering hues as the wax slowly melted around the flame.
Two men stared at the girl who had burst in after knocking, as if it had been a signal to do as she pleased. One of them was clearly the sect leader, based on his robes. The other, a second grade disciple.
She hadn’t bowed properly—understandable, given the child in her arms. Still, it prompted the second grade disciple to rise from his seat.
"Samae, how dare you—"
"I don’t believe I was speaking to Sahyung."
The girl cut him off without even sparing him a proper glance, then turned her attention back to the silent sect leader, who observed her with analyzing eyes.
"Sect Leader…"
"I heard your request."
He spoke her name with a neutral tone. Upon hearing his teacher mutter in displeasure toward her, Chung Myung flinched without realizing.
The sect leader didn’t notice the connection between the child's reaction and the older disciple’s discontent. But regardless, he cast a sharp look that silenced the disciple immediately.
Turning back to her, he spoke calmly.
"Why don’t you sit down first?"
"How could I refuse the sect leader?"
A smile appeared on her face—one that didn’t reach her eyes. She stepped forward and sat to the right of the sect leader. The older disciple sat directly across from her.
"Now then, tell me…"
The sect leader began slowly.
"Why should Chung Myung’s teacher.. Baek Oh, be changed?"
She averted her gaze from Baek Oh, who sat across, and smiled at the sect leader.
"I believe Sahyung lacks a sense of responsibility."
"How dare you—!"
"Baek Oh."
The sect leader raised a hand toward him, forcing Baek Oh to swallow his anger. Without missing a beat, she continued speaking, her tone sharp and provoking.
"I think Chung Myung needs a different kind of care, and it’s clear Sahyung is incapable of providing it."
She cast a quick glance at Baek Oh’s darkened expression, then turned back to the sect leader as if the man meant nothing to her—and truly, he didn’t scare her.
"Sect Leader, locking a child in the Cave of Penitence just for some peace and quiet, with clearly insufficient supplies—and don’t even get me started on the mix-up between the alcohol and water jars."
At the last part, the sect leader’s gaze visibly shifted. He shot a piercing look at Baek Oh, who returned it with a confused expression. Baek Oh froze when he heard the girl chuckle softly.
"Oh? What’s this? Don’t tell me… Sahyung didn’t know? No, no—there’s no way Sasuk could possibly mistake a water jar for an alcohol jar. So that must mean…"
She tilted her head slightly, her expression now openly hostile.
"…Sahyung intentionally sent his disciple to be locked in that cave, by other disciples probably?"
"Using the word ‘locked’ is an exaggeration!—"
"Right… Sahyung’s been LoKiNg Chung Myung up often lately. I wonder if you just couldn’t handle him? He is a very energetic child, after all, and Sahyung is such a busy man… It must be so easy to be negligent."
"..."
"Still, I have to wonder… why was Baek Oh Sahyung, such a gifted man, appointed as Chung Myung’s instructor to begin with?"
She raised an eyebrow and chuckled bitterly at Baek Oh’s grim face.
"It was because Chung Myung was an exceptional genius, right? He needed someone who could guide him. But oh, dear—turns out no one is perfect! No matter how skilled Sahyung is at martial arts, he’s clearly unfit to be a mentor."
A creaking sound was heard—Baek Oh was starting to truly lose his temper.
Still, he wasn’t a fool. He tried to come up with a retort to shut her down, but nothing came to mind. All he could think of were weak excuses that would only make him look worse.
Worse still, his Samae’s venomous stare made it hard to think clearly. Even if a reasonable excuse existed, his clouded mind couldn’t find it.
"Sect Leader…"
"I’m listening."
"I hold no ill will toward Sahyung, not at all! We’re on perfectly good terms. I would never ask the Sect Leader to punish him or anything like that!"
"No one mentioned punishment… until now."
The Sect Leader looked at her dramatic expression with a blank face. Baek Oh flinched at the words “until now,” but she went on steadily.
"So, since I wouldn’t dream of asking for punishment, and since we want a good role model for the children, I suggest we not put Sahyung in situations where… certain unsavory traits show themselves."
She looked Baek Oh dead in the eye. The Sect Leader hummed thoughtfully at her suggestion, and then she whispered beside him—like a devil tempting a soul—fanning the flames.
"We wouldn’t want to waste the boy’s talent…"
"Ah…"
"And don’t forget the alcohol… what if this moment turns him into an addict in the future?"
The Sect Leader’s eyes lit up suddenly. He turned like lightning toward Baek Oh, who broke eye contact with her and looked at the Sect Leader in panic.
"Wait, Sect Leader! I can explain!"
"Really??"
Baek Oh swallowed his words. In truth, he had no explanation. None.
After a few moments of silence, the Sect Leader spoke firmly, with no trace of regret.
"Baek Oh, you will no longer be Chung Myung’s teacher."
Oddly, Baek Oh’s expression didn’t change much.
Truthfully, all he cared about was the Sect Leader’s opinion of him. Teaching Chung Myung had never meant much—he hadn’t liked the child anyway.
"Understood, Sect Leader."
The old man hummed in approval. Then he looked to the person sitting on his right—specifically, the child nestled in her arms.
"Take the child to bed."
"I will."
"Tomorrow, I’ll discuss his new teacher with the other elders and instructors. You’re both dismissed."
"Understood."
The two disciples replied in unison, casting a brief, sharp glance at each other before bidding the Sect Leader farewell and stepping outside.
As the cold night air brushed his face, Baek Oh stopped. His gaze lingered on the smaller figure who passed him without hesitation.
"You really aren’t very kind, you know."
"Really?"
She replied with sarcastic amusement, her voice a touch louder than his. Baek Oh narrowed his eyes.
"You don’t even like kids. Why go this far?"
"Just because I don’t like someone, it gives me the right to harm them? Interesting."
She looked back at him with a surprised expression. Baek Oh felt a chill in his chest and barked irritably:
"That’s obviously not what I meant!"
"I believe it was only obvious to you, Sahyung."
Baek Oh’s face twitched in annoyance—but she couldn’t have cared less.
"Why are you upset? You hate training the boy, but you don’t want anyone else to train him either?"
"Nonsense!"
Baek Oh turned away and walked off heavily. She scowled at his back.
"As if I care. Let him find a new teacher, it's none of my business!"
She knew, even if Baek Oh denied it deep down—he was burning with jealousy.
The idea that a kid like that was receiving the same hopes and expectations Baek Oh used to have, and the thought that he might grow up to become the symbol of Mount Hua while Baek Oh remained just another ordinary swordsman…
It stirred resentment and envy in his heart.
If Baek Oh didn’t want anyone else to train him, it was probably because if Chung Myung stayed under his control, he could suppress him and prevent him from showing his real skills.
She rolled her eyes, clearly bored. These men were truly exhausting. Unbelievable!
"Oh, you're still awake?"
Her movement stiffened slightly as the child shifted in her arms, trying one last time to stay conscious.
"Sago..."
The gentle patting on his back was annoying—especially since he didn’t want to fall asleep after all the tension he’d been through tonight. But that tender touch slowly forced his eyes shut.
Chung Myung could only mumble something incoherent and drowsy.
No, not incoherent. Priceless.
And the last thing he heard was the fading sound of light footsteps—like a forgotten dream.
—
Chung Myung has no kins, but he does have a family.
It doesn't matter if they share blood or not. They trusted one another enough to watch each other's backs, and that was more than enough.
So Chung Myung was confident that he knew what having siblings felt like. Maybe even what it was like to have a father.
But he wasn't sure he had ever truly experienced what it meant to have a stereotypical mother.
He had someone motherly in his life—Sago was something like a mother or an older sister to him.
But she didn’t resemble anything close to the typical image of a gentle, sweet, and nurturing mother.
Her love was kinda tougher.
Chung Myung chuckled softly and raised his cup of alcohol to the moon above. His eyes stared into the drink with amused scrutiny.
"You were right..."
He brought the cup to his lips, then paused before drinking.
"I've become addictive in this future."
He almost wished there was someone he had to hide his drinking from—just like in the old days—
"SAHYUNG?! I told you not to drink while you're injured!!"
Chung Myung flinched and hugged the alcohol jar as if it were his precious child that might be snatched away.
He immediately took back that foolish wish.
✿
"Chung Myung-ah, don’t skip your lessons! Chung Myung-ah, stop hitting your sahyung! Chung Myung-ah, you’re a Taoist, stop cursing!"
Chung Myung, Chung Myung, Chung Myung!
“Stop telling me what to do! It’s not like I’m not gonna do it because you don't want me to!”
Chung Myung grumbled, annoyed and angry, kicking his legs and pushing against her with his hands. But she held him easily, carrying him over her shoulder like a sack of barley as she climbed the mountain.
“Just because you want something doesn’t mean you should get it. Otherwise, you'd end up as a bratty little Evil Sect member.”
He scowled at her back. Just from her tone, he knew she had that crooked, irritating smile on her face—and comparing him to those cowardly Evil Sect bastards only added fuel to his fury.
“Don’t call me that!”
“Then what should I call you?”
“Oof!”
She laughed, amused by his frustrated reaction, especially since his tiny feet had stopped trying to jab into her ribs. Thankfully, this brat's feet were like iron.
“I didn’t even change my nightwear…”
“I told you to hurry, but you refused. Did you think I’d give you all the time in the world to change?”
“This is literally your fault!!”
Chung Myung pointed his tiny hands at the black night sky poking through the dense trees that framed the mountain path, and yelled in protest.
“Even the old sect leader is asleep at this hour! Who in their right mind wakes up at the tiger hour?!”
“You, genius. And soon, you’ll wake up on your own without me needing to wake you up.”
“As if that’s possible!”
Chung Myung scoffed and rolled his eyes—not that she could see it, so it was pretty much pointless.
When they reached the top of a certain cliff—not the summit—she finally set the boy down.
Chung Myung quickly glanced around, then turned to her.
She gave him a suspicious smile, but he didn’t back down. He held onto what was left of his pride, which had been crushed since she carried him like that, and demanded an answer confidently.
“Why are we here?!”
“Hmm, tough question… tough question~”
“SHUT UP, SAGO!!”
She smirked and knelt on one knee to get closer to the child’s eye level. As she moved, Chung Myung finally noticed the rope in her hand.
She wrapped the rope around his waist, and he raised his arms slightly, watching the process with childish curiosity.
“Do you know why we came out so early?”
?
Chung Myung looked up at the woman crouched before him, still tying the rope. He had thought about it a little on the way up and when he first woke up, but this was the first time he actually tried to figure it out instead of just cursing this crazy woman.
He remembered the times when Baek Oh was his instructor, and looked at the rope.. getting a feeling of deja vu.
“Am I being punished?”
He asked with a casual tone, though it carried a hint of anticipation he couldn’t hide. She smiled, stood up, and offered him her hand.
“Oh? So you do realize fighting during training is wrong?”
“That’s just what you people say!!”
Chung Myung hissed like a cat whose wound was being touched, and she rolled her eyes before grabbing his hand and leading him to the cliff’s edge.
He couldn’t resist, of course, so he stood there reluctantly. But he’d be lying if he said the fresh, cool air wasn’t incredibly pleasant—especially from this spot.
The sky was still dark, but a pale blue was beginning to seep in from the horizon, even though the sun’s first rays had yet to pierce the clouds.
“You’re not being punished, Chung Myung-ah.”
He looked up at her beside him, and she met his gaze with a soft smile, gently squeezing his hand.
“I know how you think. Doing something boring and easy seems like a waste of time. The other kids might be annoying too, hard to get along with.”
She let go of his hand and ruffled his shoulder-length hair, messing it up even more. Chung Myung grumbled, but there was no real anger.
“Don’t worry, I won’t make you go through useless training. That way… you won’t get in trouble, right?”
Chung Myung was just about to say something, deeply moved by her sincerity—
Until he felt nothing under his feet.
“Huh...?”
The boy froze, sweat beading on his face, when he saw her holding the rope tied around him. As she extended her arm, he looked down.
He was literally dangling over the edge.
“S-Sago, let’s talk about this calmly—”
“Chung Mun-ah said your performance in class is falling faster than Mount Hua's slopes.”
“Oh, Chung Mun sahyung, what a kind man. I wonder when I’ll speak with him again…”
Chung Myung clenched his tiny teeth, but she clicked her tongue in disapproval.
“Why are you upset? Weren’t you complaining about wasting time? Now we can do everything at once so you can enjoy the rest of the day. Two birds with one stone!”
“How is this even possible?!”
She simply smiled at his screaming.
“You climb this cliff, while I hold the rope. I’ll ask questions. Every time you get one wrong, you start over.”
"As if I—AAAAAHHHH!!!"
Chung Myung screamed as he plummeted. The poor birds minding their own business scattered in panic. Even though his fall stopped midair, Chung Myung felt like his soul was leaving his body—or maybe he was aging prematurely.
“That wretched woman… I swear, your end will come at my hands…”
“Haaah? What are you muttering? I can’t hear you!!”
He gritted his teeth furiously, face red like he was about to explode. All he got in return was a little, delighted laugh.
“Oh right… I forgot to mention.”
Chung Myung looked up quickly, suddenly feeling uneasy.
“I don’t want to ruin my beautiful hands. Holding this rope too long gives me calluses. Oh, and it’s tiring.”
“What's the point of beautiful hands if your have an appetite-killing face?! And your hands are already ugly anyway! What kind of martial artist gets tired just from holding a rope—GAHHHH!”
Chung Myung’s pride and will both wavered as the rope slipped lower. He pressed his trembling feet against the cliffside, gripping the rocks with all his might while biting his lips.
Maybe… he’d gone too far this time.
“Lesson one, chapter one! What gives value to a person’s life?”
“...”
“Think it through. If you don’t have an answer by the time you reach the top, I’ll drop you.”
“You devilish goblin–! AAHH!!”
It’s safe to say that Chung Myung climbed that cliff several times that day.
The upside? He was so exhausted he fell into deep sleep just as the other students were starting their training. So that problem was solved.
Second, he never forgot that lesson again.
—
“Ughh…”
“I’m dying…”
“Which demon came up with such training?!”
“Nyahahaha!”
Chung Myung ignored the sickly looks thrown his way and laughed as the Namgung disciples climbed up the mountain toward them. His eyes were blazing with mischief.
“What? Are those bastards badmouthing Sago? Then I won’t feel guilty pushing them back down again!”
“Wait, did you felt guilty before?”
“What are you saying, Jo Gul? You must’ve misheard.”
“Did he say Sago?”
Everyone turned to Yu Iseol, who stood quietly. Anyone who didn’t know her wouldn’t have noticed the slight confusion she felt in that moment.
“Who insulted Sago?!”
Tang Soso ran to the edge of the cliff, her hands full of needles, but Jo Gul the hero saved the remaining Namgung disciples from extinction at the hands of one of their supposed healer.
Meanwhile, Chung Myung kicked another guy who had just arrived and kept laughing.
His laughter drowned out the protests and groans of the Namgung children.
✿
There are obvious differences between a city and a village.
The former is far more crowded, its area more vast, and it is certainly more prosperous.
Huayin was still classified as a village—it barely met the required area criteria—but it was without a doubt one of the most thriving and developed villages anyone could find in Shanxi, perhaps in all of the Central Plains.
Surely, even a child would immediately know that the main reason for Huayin’s prosperity was the presence of the Mount Hua Sect, firmly rooted atop Mount Hua overlooking the village.
Thus, in Huayin Village, Mount Hua stood as a kind of supreme ruler, an ideal utopia. Its disciples were respected and revered. It was rare to see any trouble in this region, especially any that involved Mount Hua’s disciples.
But this ideal image did not hold up in places outside their sphere of influence.
“You wretched brat.”
Chung Myung, his youthful face resembling a devilish child, glared at the Southern Edge disciple who was holding him up by the collar like a wild animal.
That was putting it kindly, to be honest...
Almost to prove the point, Chung Myung slammed the sole of his foot into the disciple’s face, causing the boy’s shoulders to shudder as blood dripped from his nose.
“You damned punk.”
“Trash from the Southern Edge Sect!”
Chung Myung fought the intruder—technically, he was the one who barged in on the disciple’s turf—but he was still a child, and bullying a little kid wasn’t exactly noble behavior.
“What’s wrong? Did you run away from Mount Hua?”
Chung Myung glared at the older man smiling at him with feigned surprise. Somehow, that look made him feel uneasy, like something was about to happen.
“Were they mistreating you? Or did they kick you out? No... judging by your clothes, it’s probably the former.”
“Shut your mouth!”
There was no proper way to describe the vile and repugnant behavior of the older man standing before him, though Chung Myung didn’t fully grasp it at the time.
Though both sects belonged to the same alliance, Mount Hua and the Southern Edge Sect were long-time rivals. The Southern Edge always tried to climb over Mount Hua, and Mount Hua did the same in return. They clashed covertly, as though their animosity were a shameful sin not meant to be exposed.
For a child like Chung Myung, he didn’t think too deeply about it. His hostility toward the Southern Edge was merely inherited from his elders; he had never dug into the reasons himself.
So, had he been given the chance to express his true feelings in that moment, it would have been troublesome. With his still-limited worldview, the jealousy shown by the other disciples seemed like pure hatred.
Luckily, Chung Myung was far too arrogant to say something so pitiful.
“Put him down.”
Fortunately, he wasn’t alone.
The Southern Edge disciple looked past Chung Myung, but the latter didn’t need to turn around to know who had spoken.
The young man let go of his collar, and Chung Myung landed gracefully—too gracefully for his young age. He quickly stepped back as his feet hit the ground.
With all the innocence in the world, he clung to the hem of her robe and hid slightly behind her.
What he didn’t expect was the comforting, yet protective pat on the head.
“If you’ve got something to say, you’d better speak to his instructor. You don’t want rumors spreading that Southern Edge disciples are bullying children and acting like thugs in back alleys, do you?”
A sly smile crossed her face. He knew she never wore such an expressive look during formal debates, which meant she must have been truly furious.
A vein throbbed on the opposing disciple’s forehead, but he only clicked his tongue in annoyance, unable to express his frustration openly. As he turned slightly as if to leave with his companions, he spat out over his shoulder,
“An instructor? Hah… I didn’t know Mount Hua let children run around unsupervised, much less roam the streets freely.”
“At least my disciple isn’t a cowardly little chick. With your kind of personality, I bet you didn’t even leave your sect walls until late.”
The disciple stiffened mid-step. Silence followed, then hushed, trembling murmurs from the other disciples. Chung Myung’s brows twitched at the bitter glare the young man shot at them. If looks could kill, she’d be a corpse by now.
“Watch your mouth, Mount Hua disciple.”
“My mouth? What’s wrong with it?”
For a moment, Chung Myung thought the man’s expression was discomforting, but when he saw his elder’s smile—his Sago’s look—he realized what was truly disturbing.
That sinister smile that didn’t reach her eyes. It came from real rage.
“Remind me again… what did you say to him?”
“…”
“Did they abandon you? Isn’t that what you said...?”
Chung Myung felt the light, familiar weight on his head vanish. Her hand had left him, and her feet moved forward.
“Do I need to give your sect a reason to abandon you? If I do it now, who would blame me—your elders? Your masters?”
Her right hand hung loosely at her side. She hadn’t touched her sword, hadn’t even hinted at it. Yet the air was thick with malice and the will to harm.
The disciple gathered his courage, shouted in frustration, and turned away with heavy steps—unable even to wipe the sweat pouring down his face.
“Interfering pests…”
That was the last thing he muttered before rushing off with his group, disappearing into the crowd.
Chung Myung was too dazed to realize she was approaching again—until she pinched his cheek and tugged.
“Ah! Ow!!”
“You little rascal!”
Her gaze was one of pure irritation. One hand on her hip, she scolded him in a sharp tone.
“I take my eyes off you for just a second to deliver documents, and you disappear and get into trouble with the Southern Edge?! Unbelievable!”
Chung Myung rubbed his now-reddened cheek. His eyes wavered between stubbornness and a faint tinge of embarrassment and guilt.
“I just wanted to explore a bit, what’s wrong with that?!”
“Oh... I don’t know, maybe the fact that you don’t know this place???”
She massaged the bridge of her nose as he muttered something under his breath, clinging to his defiance. She knew this wouldn’t be easy.
Every time she left the sect for routine duties, Chung Myung caused troubles. Of course, it’s not like he was perfectly behaved when she was around either—but he caused several times more issues in her absence.
The disciples couldn’t take it anymore. They pleaded with the elders and the sect leader to make her take him along on her simple missions. Normally, the elders would reject the idea outright—it violated the rules and could cause chaos.
But the fact that the disciples themselves requested it eliminated any risk of rebellion or resentment among them.
She knelt before him once they had moved away from the crowd, never letting go of his hand. Her other hand covered it gently. The look she gave him was making him shift sheepishly, it felt oddly tender.
“What is it...?”
“Chung Myung-ah, remember this well—everything that bastard said is nonsense.”
Chung Myung blinked and looked away. He didn’t want to think too deeply about it, but she clearly wasn’t letting it slide.
“Your Sasuks and Sagoes might be jerks and jealous pains, but your Sahyungs aren’t like that.”
Chung Myung’s mouth fell open slightly. He didn’t know what he wanted to say, but he thought hard before finally voicing what was on his mind.
“They get annoyed when I’m around.”
“No, don’t think of it like that.”
Her hands rested on his shoulders. She didn’t even force him to look at her. Yet something about her drew his attention, as if his small soul yearned to hear something...
Anything that could heal his lonely little heart.
“Think of it like this…”
What met him was a warm smile, devoid of any weariness or burden. Somehow, Chung Myung’s chest felt lighter again, free of the overwhelming emotions far too heavy for a child his age.
“Your Sahyungs...”
He blinked as she tapped his left temple gently with her index finger.
“...aren’t very bright. Not like you.”
Chung Myung took a deep breath, trying to hold himself together and keep the corners of his lips from quivering.
“Your Sahyungs need a lot of hard work to keep up with you. So you should see the effort they’re willing to make just to be with you, even if they can't end up as strong as you.”
“But how then…”
Chung Myung didn’t know how to put it into words.
How are they gonna stand by each other's side if he has no equal?
He didn’t want to disbelieve her—he really didn’t—but the matter felt complicated and incomplete, no matter how he looked at it. How could they want to be with him, yet ask the elders to send him away on missions with her?
“Tsk tsk… how do you not get it?”
Chung Myung looked at her in surprise and overwhelming curiosity, desperate to hear the answer to his question.
“They want to close the gap between them and you. And since they’re not smart enough to advance as fast as you, they want to slow you down so they can catch up.”
Chung Myung thought about it for a moment, sweat pouring down his forehead from how seriously he was thinking it. She smiled proudly, stood up, and grabbed his hand again.
“Let’s go. We’re heading back.”
Chung Myung walked forward. He didn’t have any other choice at the moment anyway—his mind was too busy locked in a fierce battle with his thoughts.
—
“You lied…”
Well, it wasn’t exactly a lie. What she said was true—it just wasn’t the answer to his question.
Chung Myung had always been too much for them to handle. He didn’t realize it until he was older. And even if he had understood it as a child, he wouldn’t have accepted it as graciously as he did now.
To them, ordinary people who needed a break from time to time, having him away with her for a while felt like a well-earned vacation. A chance too good to pass up.
And needing time doesn't equal hatered. However, his younger self wouldn't have been able to understand this.
But she wasn’t wrong at all.
“I’ll kill you!!!”
Jo Gul screamed like a rabid dog as he charged at Chung Myung like an arrow, swinging his sword and cutting through the air—but regardless of his efforts, he was sent flying into the stars.
Many had looked up to him and supported him with all their hearts. Even if it felt like they were trying to annoy him sometimes, they really just wanted to be with him. The truth was… they just weren’t as smart.
And so…
“They don’t need to be as strong as me to stand beside me.”
Chung Myung had known that for some time now. But knowing it and living by it were different things. He often failed to put it into practice. He couldn’t bring himself to fully rely on others—even if he trusted them with a dagger at his throat.
That’s why, even if what she said earlier was true, there was nothing wrong with pushing them to their limits like he was doing now.
“Come meet your doom! Nyahahahahahahahaha!!”
Next was Yoon Jong, flying up toward the sun. The price of strength was steep—no doubt about it.
✿
In a dark room, despite the sun sitting high in the sky… or rather—
It wasn’t that the room was literally dark. It was the ominous aura filling the space that made it feel eerie and frightening.
In any case…
'How can a child emit such an aura?'
The woman sitting at the end of the table looked at the person in front of her. Though her tone was teasing, her eyes stared at him with a mix of amazement and admiration.
But Chung Myung couldn’t appreciate it—not in this situation.
In a fit of anger, he threw the inkstone with all his might, hoping to smash it. But she caught it easily, not spilling a single drop of ink.
“History!??? To hell with history!!! Why do I have to study about dead people??!!! Let them rot in peace in their graves!! What’s it got to do with me?!!”
“Chung Myung-ah… Chung Myung-ah.”
She clicked her tongue helplessly and shook her head with a kind of amused resignation she didn’t even try to hide.
“Whatever you say, you still need to learn these things. It’s basic knowledge!”
“I hate wasting time on useless things!”
Chung Myung gave a little ‘hmph!’ and turned away, crossing his short arms and closing his eyes.
Truth be told, Chung Myung loved wasting time on useless things… so that wasn’t the problem.
The real issue was that it was boring, plus studying meant writing. And more than anything else, Chung Myung hated writing.
Of course, he wanted to learn how to read and write. Reading was always useful. He genuinely hated history classes, sure, but writing was the real thorn in his side.
Deep down, he had a hard time admitting it—but his handwriting was bad. No one ever considered that it was normal for a six-year-old child to have wobbly and imperfect writing, because the kids around him were most likely all older—even the Sajaes—and they put in more effort. So, compared to them, his handwriting was a weakness people sometimes mocked.
“Chung Myung-ah.”
She gave him a small smile, and Chung Myung turned his eyes away, embarrassed. But the older woman moved to sit beside him.
“You’re right. I used to think history was incredibly boring too.”
Chung Myung glanced sideways at her, his eyes frustrated and flustered, revealing a kind of adorable stubbornness. She couldn’t help but pat his head, messing up his hair. He grumbled in protest.
He tried to fix his hair—not that it was neat to begin with—but at least it hadn’t been bothering him. Then he looked at her again, a bit curious now that he remembered what she said.
“You too?”
“Mn.”
She nodded without hesitation, stirring a bit of confusion in him—clearly written on his face.
“History seems boring at first glance, but when I looked at it from another perspective, I found meaning in learning it.”
Chung Myung frowned at that, expecting yet another boring lecture like the ones Chung Mun always gave. But he was surprised when she continued differently.
“Chung Myung-ah, what would you do if a scoundrel from the southern edge insulted Mount Hua?”
Chung Myung’s mind wandered for a second as he imagined the scene—not that he needed to. The image of those scoundrels and their blue robes was enough to boil his childish blood.
“I’d beat them up!”
“But words are like pomegranate and mulberry juice—once they stain a clean cloth, the marks never comes out.”
Chung Myung looked at the older woman. Her small smile waited patiently, unchanged even when he gave her a confused look as if he didn’t understand.
“You see… beating them up is definitely satisfying! But think about it…”
She leaned closer to his ear, and the boy leaned in, focused like he was about to learn a forbidden technique.
“Wouldn’t it be even more satisfying to beat them up and insult them back?”
Chung Myung looked at her again, a comically serious expression on his face, as if he were truly considering her words.
“I guess so…”
“And when is an insult perfect?”
He scratched his head lightly, thought about it, then looked at her.
“When the other side can’t deny it?”
“Yes.”
She nodded cheerfully, showing he got it right. A small flutter stirred in Chung Myung’s chest, and he puffed it out proudly—though he tried to act like nothing happened.
“Good job! As expected of my sweet Chung Myung! So smart and talented, hahaha!”
Well, maybe the corners of his lips twitched a little… but he didn’t give in. He grabbed his cheeks in a desperate attempt to keep his smile from escaping.
“Hmph! Tell me something I don’t know!”
“Yeah yeah…”
She rolled her eyes with a mock-annoyed smile, clearly frustrated that she failed to provoke his grin. But Chung Myung was too stubborn to give her what she wanted. He watched as she dipped the brush in ink and placed it in his small hand.
Instead of letting go and telling him what to write next, she held his hand gently and guided it toward one of the scattered papers.
“Let’s start from the beginning. What do you know about the unification of the Nine Great Sects?”
“…”
Chung Myung thought hard, a small frown forming on his face as he tried to recall the poorly memorized information.
Before he could answer, she stopped waiting and began instead. She moved his hand holding the brush and wrote the characters one by one on the paper as she narrated the events of that era.
This was the first time Chung Myung learned from anyone other than his usual third grade history teacher.
So, it was strange that he suddenly became interested in history. But when he thought about it, she spoke about the events like a story—not in the usual question-and-answer format.
“So Mount Hua was the one who proposed forming the alliance?”
“Yes.”
“But was Mount Hua weak? Why would we cooperate with those weaklings?!”
Chung Myung felt oddly angry, his blood beginning to boil at the imagined scene. But he received a flick to the forehead.
“Ouch! Why’d you do that?!!”
“Because you’re a fool, you brat.”
She laughed at his irritated expression, not bothered at all—his indignation was just too funny.
“Don’t you know that having a lot of power is good, and having even more is better? Especially when the power lies both in people and numbers.”
“What kind of nonsense is that?!”
Chung Myung punched the air, but she dodged it with an amused smile. The idea of needing other sects didn’t sit well with his imagination—especially if it involved the southern edge.
“You’ll see!”
Chung Myung muttered indignantly, as if he were forming plans in his little head. He looked up at her and met her expectant gaze.
“I’ll become the strongest man in the world! Stronger than all the sects combined! Then Mount Hua won’t need any useless scoundrel allies!”
“Eyy…”
She tilted her head slightly, her eyes searching his expression as if she had so much to say. At least, that’s what Chung Myung felt for some reason, even though he didn’t fully understand it at the time.
Instead of saying anything, Chung Myung got a gentle pat on the head.
“You really are a rascal.”
Chung Myung’s lips quivered, his cheeks turning red without the slightest control on his part.
“Are you making fun of me?!”
He lunged at the older woman, hitting her repeatedly with his clenched fists, but she only leaned back a little and laughed with delight.
“I’m not the one saying it!”
“You—!”
—
Woosh!
Chung Myung looked at the many old sheets of paper covered in ink that formed the shapes of distinct characters.
After guiding from her hand to write for a while, he naturally began applying a bit of pressure with his wrist and fingers, and eventually, he moved his hand to draw the curves of the letters and words. Her hand simply followed his motion.
Chung Myung’s handwriting had improved for his age, but it still wasn’t exactly beautiful or neat. It was just...
Like her handwriting—rushed and a little messy when not paying full attention.
Chung Myung closed his eyes for a moment, but quickly looked back at the old papers he had found in the cave nestled in the cliff when he first went there.
His Sago had been absolutely right about everything she said. Individual strength was important, but numbers made a massive difference, without a doubt. The greatest strength in numbers came when you could trust people enough to turn your back to them without fearing they’d stick a sword in it.
Oh, and learning the history of his sect and the others helped him bully those rascals more accurately.
‘No—let’s not bring that part into the light. We don’t want to tarnish Sago’s pure memory.’
Chung Myung nodded to himself with conviction, a small smile finding its way to his lips as he watched the disciples below discussing something—probably gossiping about him after the beating he gave them during training today.
“Those little punks…”
For some reason, what bloomed in his chest wasn’t irritation at his comrades like it used to be on old Mount Hua, but a faint sense of comfort.
Chung Myung believed he knew what she had wanted to say in that moment.
No one can ever be strong enough. There’s always more to achieve.
Maybe she hadn’t wanted to wound his pride as a child. Maybe she hadn’t wanted to shatter the impossible dreams that still seemed real to him at the time. Or maybe she thought he wouldn’t understand.
Whatever the reason...
“What are you doin—”
Chung Myung looked back just in time to see Jo Gul fly through the air, then turned his gaze to his own fist, still steaming. He clicked his tongue in irritation.
“Tsk tsk, I keep telling them not to sneak up... No use!”
Chung Myung sighed as he tucked the old writings into the folds of his martial uniform, feeling the space at his sides fill up one by one.
Soon, the disciples’ chatter and gossip filled the space that had been quiet for a moment, and Chung Myung couldn’t decide which he preferred more.
‘Honestly… Sago was amazing.’
It took him more than a hundred years to realize it, but she had seen it all by the age of twenty—maybe even earlier.
Maybe it was because she wasn’t as gifted as he was. Maybe because she was a woman... but that changed nothing.
She may not have been the perfect example, but she was the example Chung Myung needed in his life. She was what a “bad example” was supposed to be like.
And now he truly understood his mistake. It wasn’t that he needed to be enough to protect everything. It was simply that he couldn’t be enough on his own. No one can carry the world alone forever.
Chung Myung looked up at the reddish-orange sky, its glow reflecting on the worn-out, laughing disciples.
‘I don’t want to walk alone anymore, Sago.’
„You did well, Chung Myung-ah.“
The smile he had always tried to suppress around others finally slipped out, quietly.