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Chapter Text

The battlefield was a living hell—corpses piled into mountains, rivers of blood flowing without end.

The stench of death hung heavy in the air, suffocating every breath. Chung Mun was overwhelmed to the point he nearly forgot how to breathe.

How long had it been since this battle began? The sky was dyed the color of blood, trees toppled and lay broken, and bodies—still faintly warm—littered the earth. Only moments ago, they had first caught sight of the Heavenly Demon. Martial siblings who, just seconds earlier, had stood whole and unscathed now lay scattered across the ground, entrails spilling, their lifeless eyes still frozen in terror.

‘I—’

There was no time for shock. Another disciple fell. Chung Mun’s jaw clenched with grief and fury. This was a nightmare.

‘Was my decision truly the correct one?’

For a fleeting moment, regret pierced his heart. But he quickly regained clarity. This was not the time to be ruled by emotion. He needed to keep his mind cold and unwavering.

With a burst of movement, Chung Mun lunged forward, yanking a disciple by the collar and saving him from impending death. Before the young man could even voice his gratitude, the old Sect Leader’s figure had already darted off.

‘Stay sharp, Chung Mun. Do not look back.’

His eyes burned—whether from unbearable sorrow or from unblinking focus needed to survive, he could no longer tell. The eerie emerald glow of the Heavenly Demon’s energy twisted the very earth. At this moment, survival instinct alone guided him. Chung Mun fought to keep his mind steady, repeating to himself that this battle was …inevitable.

In a life so cruel, sometimes there were no truly ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ choices. And his decision to stand at the frontline against the Heavenly Demon was no different.

As a Taoist, he had upheld the Tao of Mount Hua. But as a Sect Leader, he felt that this decision could lead his sect toward ruination. What should it be called? Ah, yes… a grave mistake that deserves to be condemned by future generations.

‘Even if it is such a terrible mistake, I must move forward.’

If not him, then who?

The remnants of the Ten Great Sects? Or the Five Great Families?

Those so-called power figures of Kangho had all withdrawn like turtles hiding in their shells, trying to push others forward as sacrificial pawns. It seems that in this accursed place, only Mount Hua stood alone.

The immense disappointment made him gnash his teeth. The trust he had once placed in them had long since shattered—shattered like the lives of the disciples who now lay cold upon the battlefield.

Chung Mun kept moving, step by step closing the distance toward the figure of the man named ‘Cheon Ma’. That man’s very presence loomed like a giant mountain, capable of crushing all of them at any moment. His strength was so monstrous that even a Great Sect like Mount Hua seemed powerless before him. The Plum Blossom Swordsmen were slaughtered mercilessly, their bodies left in tatters. It was a scene of despair akin to hell itself.

And yet, not a single person fled. Because behind them lay important things they must protect. They had to press forward, even if the road ahead only led to a horrible ending.

Chung Mun did not know if victory was possible. But at the very least, they would die without shame.

A demonic force from Cheon Ma shot straight toward him, only to be intercepted by a disciple who threw himself in the way. His sword shattered instantly, and his body was pierced clean through. But even in his final moments, he turned his head back, as if to make sure Chung Mun was safe.

How many lives had already been sacrificed? Chung Mun felt as if his very soul was being torn apart. But he knew, he could not die. Not yet. For he was the spirit, the very core of the entire Mount Hua. If he fell, all would be for nothing; there would be no hope left. That was why his disciples willingly laid down their lives to protect their Sect Leader.  He tightened his grip on the Divine Sword of Violet Dawn as if it were his final lifeline, unleashing blazing scarlet sword qi toward the Heavenly Demon. Survive. Fight and Win. That was the only thing Chung Mun could do now for the martial siblings who had already fallen.

‘You feel the same, don’t you? Chung Myung.’

He cast his gaze toward the figure ahead - a man whose sword danced in a frenzy, like a swift swallow weaving through the enemy’s deadly strikes. He was Chung Mun’s greatest hope, the only one capable of overturning the tide of this battle.

Plum Blossom Sword Saint.

The pride of Mount Hua, the strongest swordsman in all of their sect’s history. The one who could not die and must not be allowed to die. He had to survive. Even if Chung Mun himself had to give up his own life, he must ensure that Chung Myung survived—to sever the Heavenly Demon’s head. For no one else could do it. Every disciple shared the same unspoken resolve, carving out a path of blood for Chung Myung.

Thud!

A sword finally pierced the Heavenly Demon’s body. Though the disciple who struck it instantly had his head crushed, that single wound was enough to spark hope anew.

Win! We absolutely must win!

Even if it costs every single life here. If that Demon fell, Mount Hua would live on.

As long as Mount Hua survived, there would always be a home to return to.

Fight to protect, fight to return. The Plum Blossom Swordsmen’s eyes blazed with fire as they joined forces, inching ever closer toward the enemy. On the peak of the Hundred Thousand Mountains, plum blossoms bloomed brilliantly, only to wither one by one—yet their sharpness and unshakable resolve never faded.

Chung Mun saw that more than half of the disciples had already fallen, but the wounds they inflicted upon the Heavenly Demon were steadily multiplying. Just a little more. They only needed to push a little more, to give Chung Myung the chance to close in on Cheon Ma.

He swung his sword. Again. And again. Waves of sword qi roared toward the Heavenly Demon.

'We cannot afford to lose!’

He pushed his inner strength to its absolute limit, bloodshot veins crawled across Chung Mun’s eyes as he bit down hard on his lip, stomping down on the ground to steady his faltering body.

And then—a shout rang out. Chung Mun saw a surge of demonic energy hurtling toward him.

“Well done, disciples of Mount Hua.”

The voice that made one’s skin crawl.

"SECT LEADER!!!”

“DAMN IT, SECT LEADER SAHYUNG!!!”

A searing agony ripped through Chung Mun’s skull, his ears ringing as the strike tore apart the very arm that had just been wielding his sword.

Several disciples tried to rush to his side, realizing too late that while focusing solely on attacking the enemy, they had failed to protect their Sect Leader.

“DON’T WORRY ABOUT ME! KEEP FIGHTING!”

Chung Mun roared with every last ounce of strength. He could not allow all of their efforts to crumble because of him. He knew Cheon Ma would target him to break Mount Hua’s will, and he would never give the Demon that satisfaction.

“DO NOT MIND ME! FIGHT! EVEN IF I FALL, YOU MUST WIN! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!”

Do you understand, Chung Myung?

Another surge of demonic force came crashing toward him, unavoidable. Before darkness consumed his vision, Chung Mun cast one last glance towards the swordsman who was biting his lip and charging forward.

‘You’d better win, you brat.’

I’m leaving it to you now. You are the only one who can raise Mount Hua back up. I believe you can do it.

Chung Mun could hear the anguished cries of the disciples calling out to him. But his gaze was fixed only on that lone figure desperately advancing toward the Heavenly Demon.

The corner of his lips curled into a faint smile.

The Great Virtuous Sword, Chung Mun - thirteenth generation Sect Leader of the Great Mount Hua Sect - died in battle atop the summit of the Hundred Thousand Mountains.

Chapter Text

Drip… drip…

The sound of water trickling down the rocky walls was so vivid and real.

‘Water?’

Chung Mun slowly opened his eyes.

He was inside a pitch-black cave. The dull ache radiating through his body and the bone-deep chill that sapped his strength told him this was no dream.

‘… hadn’t I already died? I’m… still alive? Me?’

No one could survive once attacked by the Heavenly Demon. Yet here he was, a Taoist with only average cultivation and unremarkable martial art skills, still breathing after becoming that monster’s prey?

It was absurd.

He was lying on the ground, his body covered in wounds of all sizes. But the larger injuries seemed to have already healed. With a slight twitch of his fingers, Chung Mun slowly pushed himself upright.

“Where is this place?”

It wasn’t Mount Hua.

If they had defeated the Heavenly Demon, there was no reason that brat Chung Myung wouldn’t have taken him back.

But if they had lost, then who had brought his body here?

His right hand scratched at his head absently—until he froze.

His right hand?

Hadn’t his right arm been blown off by the Heavenly Demon’s strike?

Then why… was it still here, scratching his head?

???

Chung Mun shot to his feet. The sudden movement made him dizzy and he staggered, almost collapsing, but he quickly steadied himself, bracing against the cave wall.

“Huff… huff.”

He ran his hands over his body—his face was smooth, free of wrinkles. His beard was gone. His hands were smaller than before, and even his height felt… shorter.

What is this? What is going on?

Is this… soul transference? A rebirth straight out of legends?

Ha… ha…

A crooked smile spread across his face as Chung Mun tried to piece together the fragments of information in his mind. Let’s see… first, he led his troop to fight against the Heavenly Demon. Then he was struck dead. And now, he had woken up in this cave, in a young body that wasn’t his?

“…”

Fine. No point trying to understand.

He let out a long sigh. First things first, he needed to get out of here.

Feeling along the rocky wall, Chung Mun followed the faint glimmer of light to find the exit. This cave was quite small, almost like a secret hideout?

His guess was correct. After walking for a while, he came to a stop before a large boulder blocking the way.

This rock was big, but not enough to seal the entrance off completely. A few thin rays of light still slipped through, allowing him to gauge the path.

Chung Mun clenched and unclenched his fist. He tried channeling his inner energy. Luckily, it seemed this body’s original owner had also trained in martial arts. Though the strength was not very great, it was enough to move the boulder.

Clack, clack.

He finally stepped outside. It was night.

A bright moon hung in the sky, illuminating the forest around him. Chung Mun followed a faint trail down the mountain.

His body was still far too weak for lightfoot techniques, so he could only walk. He trudged along until a small house came into view then stopped. The thought of asking for a place to stay the night crossed his mind. After all, he needed to gather more information before making his next move.

Chung Mun approached the simple wooden house. It stood isolated in the middle of the mountains, likely the home of a woodcutter, because scattered on the ground were logs and an axe lying askew.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Is anyone home?”

No reply.

“Perhaps they’re already asleep?”

He muttered to himself then smiled awkwardly. Of course, it was late. Normal folks would be in bed by now. How rude of him to disturb them.

Suddenly, a barking sound rang out from somewhere nearby. Chung Mun stiffened. The dog’s hurried paw-steps grew closer, but it didn’t sound like it was rushing to attack a thief. Instead, it sounded eager to reach its master. So he simply stood still and waited.

It was a large Tibetan mastiff. Its tail wagged furiously as it bounded toward him, circling around as if inspecting his condition.

‘The owner of this dog… is me?’

Chung Mun reached out and patted its head. The dog then bit the hem of his trousers and tugged him toward the house.

“You… want me to go inside?”

He hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open.

There was no one inside. The furnishings were simple yet practical. The dog trotted inside and, from nowhere, dragged out a bowl, then looked expectantly at him.

‘Asking for food?’

Chung Mun scanned the room. From the looks of it, this house belonged to the original owner of this body. So he moved more naturally now, rummaging for some grains, cooking them casually, and sharing a bit with the dog while he ate and pondered.

“Strange… Forget about why I reincarnated into this body for now. Why was the original owner hiding in a cave, covered in so many wounds? It feels like he was being hunted by someone…”

He searched around the house for clues. Fortunately, he found a journal tucked inside a chest.

Chung Mun picked it up and began reading. He nodded slowly, piecing things together.

The journal never mentioned the owner’s name. It said he was a disciple of a sect that had collapsed not long ago, no wonder this body had some rudimentary martial arts training. This place was not far from Gangnam, where some kind of major conflict between Evil Sects and Righteous Sects had taken place. The aftermath seemed to have left the original owner of this body deeply unsettled. This area itself was quite dangerous, frequented by members of Evil Sects.

Could it be that he had been attacked by them and was forced to flee into the cave?

Chung Mun shivered.

Most likely, the man had perished in that cave… and so Chung Mun was able to take over this body.

Placing his hands together, Chung Mun softly recited a Taoist prayer for the departed soul of this body.

But there was no time to linger. Until he knew the fate of Mount Hua, his heart could not rest.

Although it was he who said that Chung Myung was the only one who could revive Mount Hua, the thought still twisted Chung Mun’s gut in pain every time the future of the sect came to his mind.

Chung Mun tidied himself up a little. From a small mirror, he could see that this face resembled his previous face by about seventy to eighty percent, quite young, only in his 20s. In the wardrobe hung a few sets of plain commoner clothes, and in the corner was a neatly folded martial arts uniform, most likely belonged to that collapsed sect.

He shook his head. An already fallen sect was beyond saving. Besides, as far as he knew, this body’s original owner had neither family nor friends. And before its demise, the sect itself had only a handful of disciples who treated one another like strangers. There was nothing left but regret.

He casually picked out a clean outfit to wear, fixed his hair, packed some food and money from the house. Behind him, the dog whimpered softly, clearly not understanding what its master was doing.

Once everything was ready, Chung Mun turned around and patted the dog’s head:

“This place is no longer safe to live. Will you come with me?”

This dog’s name was So Myung.

Though, there was nothing “So”- “Little” - about it.

Chung Mun could only give a wry smile at the sight of the large Tibetan mastiff, fluffy like a giant ball of cotton. Its original fur color was probably white, but after living in the forest without a proper bath, it had turned into an ivory color.

Suddenly, the image of his junior brother Chung Myung appeared in his mind.

“You’re really alike… though that brat was much fiercer.”

“Woof?”

So Myung tilted its head in confusion, making Chung Mun chuckle.

They even shared the same “Myung” in their names. If that brat was here, he thought he’d introduce the two of them to each other. Surely, they’d become friends in no time.

There’s no hidden meaning behind that, really. Haha.

So Myung wagged its tail, barked twice, then wrapped itself around Chung Mun’s legs. Smiling, he stretched his back and then stepped out of the house with the dog.

“Ah, the road ahead will be a long one.”

The path might be long and difficult, but it would be okay. 

Chung Mun turned to look at the house one last time.

‘I don’t know what your final wish was. But I hope that, if you are ever born again, you will find happiness.’

Then he left without looking back.

Chapter Text

"The owner of this body was such a strange person."

Chung Mun muttered to himself as he walked: “Living in such a remote, desolate place. Did he plan to spend his whole life without speaking to another soul?”

So Myung wagged its tail and trotted ahead, occasionally glancing back to make sure its master was following. Before setting out, Chung Mun had managed to recover a bit of his internal strength. So for now, stamina wasn’t an issue. However, because of the dog, he had to adjust his pace to match So Myung’s endurance, which meant the journey to Mount Hua might take longer than expected.

He had considered finding someone to take the dog in, but it seemed impossible. Mastiffs were notoriously hard to tame and could be dangerous. Moreover, So Myung was already old; abandoning it was out of the question. After all, this dog had stayed by the original owner’s side for a long time—What right did he have to treat it so coldly?

Besides… Chung Mun would never admit it aloud, but this chubby mutt reminded him far too much of his damn Sajae.

“So Myung, shall we pick up the pace? We’ll rest once we find somewhere with people.”

Chung Mun quickened his steps. The dog seemed to understand and also began moving faster, letting out a short bark.

A man and a dog—one in front, one behind. Their footsteps fell in a steady rhythm. Because this mountain wasn’t near any bustling settlements nor along any major trade routes, there was little risk of encountering mountain bandits. Still, Chung Mun wasn’t certain this body could hold its own against them, so it was best to remain cautious.

They had walked from dawn until the sun climbed high in the sky, and at last, they reached a small town.

Chung Mun tilted his head upward, gauging the time. If he wasn’t mistaken, it was now around the hour of the Dragon.

This was a modest town nestled between the territories of Qingcheng Sect and Emei Sect, still quite a distance from Mount Hua. He decided to stop here for the day. He needed to map out a route and gather more information, then cultivate a bit to grow accustomed to this new body. Slow but steady. Although the original owner had had some martial training, his strength was mediocre at best. Chung Mun needed to be able to protect himself on the road to Shaanxi, and at the same time, he had to improve his strength to be of any use to the Sect.

There was too much to do, and no time to waste.

Stepping into a lively morning market, bustling with people coming and going, Chung Mun searched for a simple inn that allowed pets. It was still early, so there was no rush to wander the town just yet. The best place to pick up information was always at the dining tables. He could wait until midday before heading out.

With that thought, he sat down on the mat and began to meditate.

----🌸----

The sun hung high in the sky, its scorching rays beating down on the dusty road. Chung Mun knew it was time to start gathering information.

He headed toward a small eatery near the inn. Inside, the air was loud and lively. He seemed to have arrived at just the right moment, as the patrons were in the middle of an animated discussion:

“The three-year truce between the Ten Great Sects and the Evil Tyrant Alliance is about to expire. Damn it, our days of peace are numbered.”

‘Three-year truce? Ten Great Sects? Evil Tyrant Alliance?’

Could this be the same incident that had worried the former owner of this body in Gangnam?

“Tch, I really misjudged those shameless Wudang cowards. The whole Ten Great Sects are all the same. The so-called Righteous Faction is finished.”

“Watch what you say. Don’t forget that there’s still the Heavenly Comrade Alliance. And remember, Mount Hua was the only sect that refused to compromise back then!”

'Mount Hua? What is this Heavenly Comrade Alliance? And what compromise are they talking about?' 

Unable to hold back his curiosity, Chung Mun stepped closer and joined the conversation:

“Gentlemen, may I ask what you are talking about? I’m just a humble woodcutter who’s been living deep in the mountains, so I’m a little behind on the news. Would you mind sharing?”

“This fellow, are you serious or just joking? Well, here’s the thing…”

Hmm…

Chung Mun had understood a little bit.

So in short, this was what had happened: The Evil Tyrant Alliance was a newly formed coalition of Evil Sects that clashed with the Ten Great Sects and Mount Hua. A brutal battle had erupted. Just as the Righteous Faction was on the brink of defeat, the Wudang Sect Leader had struck Mount Hua Divine Dragon down while he was attacking the Evil Tyrant Alliance Leader - Jang Ilso.

After that, Wudang, on behalf of the Ten Great Sects, signed a truce with the Evil Tyrant Alliance. They agreed not to set foot into Gangnam for three years, in exchange for sparing their lives.

And not a single leader of the Ten Great Sects objected. Only Mount Hua, who wasn’t even part of the Ten Great Sects, refused to compromise. They withdrew on their own and, in the process, even managed to seize an island that had long been occupied by pirates?

How strange. After such a devastating war, how could a conflict between the Evil Faction and the Righteous Faction break out? Both sides had suffered unimaginable losses.

Since when had Mount Hua withdrawn from the Ten Great Sects? And since when had Mount Hua formed an alliance called the 'Heavenly Comrade Alliance' with the Tang Clan and the Palances beyond the Great Wall?

Just how much time had really passed?

“Oh, things are getting really tense. I thought after the war with the Demonic Cult, the Evil Faction and Righteous Faction would finally live in peace.”

That brat… surely he had managed to eradicate the Demonic Cult by now, right?

“Of course! After all, that war ended a hundred years ago. The fact that it took this long for another war to break out is already considered pretty peaceful.”

…What?

“How long did you just say?”

“What’s with this fellow? One hundred years! It’s been a hundred years since the battle against the Heavenly Demon!”

The smile on Chung Mun’s face froze in place. His body trembled ever so slightly. The lively chatter around him continued, but only he was suddenly trapped in a world apart.

One hundred years…?

ONE HUNDRED YEARS HAVE PASSED—???

How… how could something this absurd even happen!?

“W-What about Mount Hua? What’s become of it?”

“Mount Hua entered Bongmun three years ago. Ever since that event, no one knows when they’ll reappear.”

A man let out a long sigh and shook his head in frustration.

“That’s right. At this point, I only trust Mount Hua. I really miss them…”

They entered Bongmun? It’s been three years?

Chung Mun had planned to return as soon as possible, but now he wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to enter. While he was still figuring out how he would live in Hua-Um during the wait, a sharp voice cut through the noise:

“Ha! Those so-called Ten Great Sects, throwing Mount Hua away like a rag even though they were the ones who stopped the Heavenly Demon. They even abandoned them, leaving them on the verge of collapse. And now they dare to pull such stunts. I don’t even know if they’re still human. Even animals know how to repay a debt of gratitude.”

“WHAT!? MOUNT HUA HAD ALMOST COLLAPSED!?”

Chung Mun’s shout echoed across the room, drawing every pair of eyes toward him.

“This fellow must have just come down from the moun—ah, no, you really did just come down from the mountain.”

“That’s right. The Ten Great Sects repaid kindness with betrayal. If it weren’t for the Nanman Beast Palace and the Northern Sea Ice Palace, who remembered Mount Hua’s grace and told us the truth, I wouldn’t have even known who the Plum Blossom Sword Saint was.”

Plum Blossom Sword Saint? Chung Myung?

“Plum Blossom Sword Saint? What kind of person was he?”

“Who knows? They said that he was the one who played a pivotal role in repelling the Demonic Cult’s invasion, protecting not only the Central Plains but also the surrounding regions. He was even the one who severed the Heavenly Demon’s head a hundred years ago. But that Plum Blossom Sword Saint died immediately afterward, so no one truly knows what kind of man he was.”

‘What?’

The information about the Heavenly Demon being beheaded barely registered in Chung Mun’s mind.

His ears rang.

The Plum Blossom Sword Saint had died right after slaying the Heavenly Demon.

The Plum Blossom Sword Saint had achieved a great feat, yet no one truly knew about his exploits or his life.

The Plum Blossom Sword Saint—the hope he clung to, the pride of Mount Hua, the man who was never supposed to die, who couldn’t be allowed to die—

…was only remembered after a century, by disciples from outer regions retelling his story, not by the very people who lived on the land he sacrificed his life to protect.

Chung Myung.

Did you really die just like that?

My Sajae.

Chapter Text

That brat never should’ve been treated like this.

Sure, he was impulsive, uncouth, irresponsible, foul-mouthed, with the temperament of a bandit, always picking fights and causing trouble everywhere—

Wait, doesn’t that make him sound like a total delinquent…?

Chung Mun cleared his throat awkwardly.

If it was just karma coming back to bite him, Chung Mun would’ve been the first to applaud in delight. But this? This was far too cruel. He didn’t deserve this kind of punishment, for heaven’s sake!

It was Chung Mun who cherished that 'no-good' Sajae of his more than anyone else. To him, that kid had always been nothing more than a snot-nosed brat (even if he was already in his eighties). He never wanted him to meet the same painful end that he did, yet it seemed his junior brother’s death was far worse.

It was heartbreaking.

And also very enraging.

The Ten Great Sects, right, that shameless bunch.

Even if Chung Mun was a Taoist with a heart as vast and forgiving as the sea, there was one thing he could never forgive - anyone who dared lay a hand on Mount Hua.

He needed more information—he had to understand this tangled, chaotic mess of an era.

“Hard to believe the once-prestigious Ten Great Sects could sink so low. But now that Mount Hua has grown strong again, surely they’ve taken their revenge?”

“Why wouldn’t they? Let me tell you—after the Plum Blossom Sword Saint beheaded the Heavenly Demon, he died atop the Hundred Thousand Mountains. In retaliation, the remnants of the Demonic Cult descended upon Mount Hua and burned everything to the ground. And those Ten Great Sects? They showed up under the pretense of ‘rescuing a few disciples’ and then claimed they’d repaid all their debt to Mount Hua. After that, they abandoned them, leaving Mount Hua on the brink of ruin.

It wasn’t until Mount Hua Divine Dragon appeared that those ungrateful bastards finally got a good kick in the rear. Tsk, tsk. Mount Hua’s too soft, really. If it were me, I’d have burned those sects to ashes and never let them walk the earth in peace ever again.”

The more Chung Mun listened, the heavier his heart grew. But one name caught his full attention: Mount Hua Divine Dragon.

“Mount Hua Divine Dragon?”

“Ah, I misspoke. He’s now known as Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword, Chung Myung. He surpassed the title of ‘A Rising Star’ ages ago—why, he even defeated a Wudang elder right in front of the public!”

“The moment I heard that the Divine Dragon of Mount Hua had crushed Southern Edge into dust during the duel between the two sects, I already knew he was destined to become a storm sweeping through the martial world.”

Chung Myung?

Could it really be a coincidence?

If he had been brought back to life, then… could Chung Myung had been as well?

In Chung Mun’s mind, an impossible scene began to take shape.

If… if Chung Myung had also returned…

Somewhere deep within him, a spark flickered to life—a fragile glimmer of hope, tangled with the fear that it might just be a foolish, delusional dream.

But the more he listened to the people chatter about this so-called 'Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword', the more that fragile hope started to solidify.

Those seemingly insane actions and that overwhelming strength. Especially in an era of peace that had lasted a hundred years— how could there possibly be another person like that?

And also, defeating the remnants of the Demonic Cult at the Ice Palace…

There was only one person who could have done something like that.

Someone that crazy. 
Someone that terrifyingly strong.
Someone who could survive even after facing the Demonic Cult head-on like that.

Chung Myung!

Hope swelled inside him, growing stronger by the second. Chung Mun felt an almost desperate urge to rush back to Mount Hua and confirm his suspicion with his own eyes.

He slurped his noodles while half-listening to the lively chatter around him.

It seemed that even a hundred years later,  the world was just as insane…

----🌸----

Somewhere, in another remote corner of the world.

As always, the birds still sang, the leaves still fell, and Chung Myung was still biting people.

With the Bongmun period nearing its end, he was trying to beat these little chicks into the ground just a bit more, with the hope that they’d grow stronger.

‘Am I being too cruel?’

'Yes. Even a demon from the underworld would have more mercy than you.'

“Ah, Sect Leader Sahyung, what are you saying? Don’t just pop up when I didn’t call for you.”

Chung Myung grinned shamelessly.

“Look at him, talking to himself again.”

“Gives me chills, maybe he’s been stuck here for too long and started hallucinating.”

“To outsiders, it probably looks like he’s on opium or something. Someone tell the Sect Leader to kick him out before Mount Hua gets a bad reputation…”

“HEY! Who the hell just said that??”

Chung Myung bared his teeth and glared. The disciples quickly averted their eyes and went back to their grueling training - exercises that were basically human torture.

‘A bunch of ungrateful brats, daring to talk about kicking me out.’

He pouted.

‘Sect Leader Sahyung, what do you think? Should I crank up their training intensity just a little bit more?’

'Devil.'

‘You’re always saying weird stuff, I don’t get youuuu.’

What, you don’t like it?

That’s too bad. If you’ve got the guts, why not try to come back to life.

Heh.

Chapter Text

The journey to Mount Hua was anything but easy. This was something Chung Mun had already anticipated.

But he hadn’t expected the world to be in such chaos, turning his path to Mount Hua into what felt like a road leading straight down to hell.

Dear heavens, just how many lunatics are there in this Kangho???

----🌸----

Ever since his days as the Great Sahyung of the Chung disciples, Chung Mun had understood the importance of money. And even now, that truth remained unchanged.

The original owner of this body was a recluse woodcutter who lived self-sufficiently in the mountains. Naturally, the little savings he left behind were only enough to buy some food along the way—certainly not enough to hire a carriage all the way to Shaanxi. Chung Mun had been walking for weeks now, his pace slowed considerably because of the dog’s presence. Though they’d run into a few wild beasts on the road, that was hardly an issue.

What puzzled him was that, despite expecting to encounter bandits, the mountains and forests had been eerily quiet. Had the bandits of the future all suddenly turned over a new leaf?

(Somewhere far away, the Green Forest King was crying while accounting ledgers: Achoo!)

After much difficulty, Chung Mun finally came across a merchant caravan heading back to Shaanxi. He politely asked to hitch a ride for part of the journey. Perhaps his gentle appearance earned their goodwill, for they agreed without much fuss. Chung Mun had thought the rest of the trip would be smooth sailing.

Until they reached Xi’an City and heard the news that the Seven Murderers of Jiangxi were planning an attack on Shaanxi.

Haha. This world truly was insane.

Chung Mun smiled outwardly, but inside, he felt a little more dead than before.

Since when did Evil Sects dare run rampant in the very heart of the Central Plains, under the supposed protection of the Ten Great Sects?

Alright, maybe those lunatics dared charge in because both Mount Hua and Southern Edge had all closed their gates. But wasn’t the Southern Edge Sect right here? How could they possibly sit idly by and not come out to wipe these bastards off the map?

Chung Mun glanced around at the panicked commoners and sighed. First, he needed to help calm the people. Leading So Myung, he rushed toward the city center, only for a signboard to catch his eye and make him freeze in place.

Huayoung Gate?

Since when has Huayoung Gate had a branch here in Xi’an?

But he didn’t have the luxury of time to ponder that question. A massive wave of killing intent erupted at the city gates—the Seven Murderers had arrived.

Chung Mun swallowed hard. In his current state, he didn’t have anywhere near the strength needed to repel these Evil Sects bastards. Even defending himself would be difficult, let alone protecting So Myung or the civilians.

And worse—he didn’t even have a sword.

A swordsman without a sword, charging into battle now would only get in the way.

Even if he knew Mount Hua’s Sword Techniques, at this moment… his strength simply couldn’t keep up!

Boom!

The gates of the Huayoung Gate burst open, and a group of people in martial arts robes dashed out in a hurry, not even bothering to close them. As they ran, they shouted for the townsfolk to flee.

When the Huayoung Gate disciples brushed past Chung Mun, he faintly heard their urgent cries:

“Quick! Protect the Eunha Merchant Guild!”

Eunha Merchant Guild? Of course, if the Evil Sects were attacking, their first target would surely be a wealthy Merchant Guild.

Chung Mun even spotted a few ragged disciples of the Beggars Union, clutching makeshift weapons as they sprinted toward the source of the killing intent.

He looked back at the wide-open gates of the vacant Huayoung Gate, then turned his gaze toward the ominous aura gathering in the distance.

Closing his eyes, he made up his mind.

Silently, he stepped into the deserted sect grounds and tied So Myung to a post so the dog would stay put. Scattered on the floor were several swords. He picked one up, giving it a few testing swings. Once he found a blade that felt right in his grip, he turned to the dog with a faint smile:

“When the common folk are in danger, how could a Taoist like me stand idly by?”

So Myung whimpered, as if worrying for him. Chung Mun stroked the dog’s head gently before stepping away.

“Wait for me. Even if I don’t know if I’ll be back soon.”

----🌸----

Chung Mun pushed himself to run at full speed. The strong smell of blood lingered in his nostrils, a grim sign that the battle had already begun.

He wasn’t strong, but at the very least, he could still help in some way.

Dashing through streets scattered with corpses—some disciples of Huayoung Gate and Beggars Union, as well as innocent civilians alike. He swept his gaze around, but nowhere did he see the familiar blue-trimmed robes of the Southern Edge Sect.

‘Seriously? They’re really not going to open their gates to save Xi’an? This is the very place they have the responsibility to protect at any cost!’

Chung Mun bit his lip hard, channeling all his frustration and anger into a sharp burst of sword energy. It shot forward, aiming straight at the Evil Sect member who was about to strike down a young disciple from behind.

“Watch out!”

“Y-Yes?”

Chung Mun’s sudden appearance clearly confused the disciple, but there was no time for explanations. His sword moved in swift, precise arcs. While his strength wasn’t overwhelming, it was enough to force the enemy to falter.

He knew his own strength—so he helped the disciples to hold off the small fry, keeping them at bay. As for the real threats…

In the distance, an old beggar was locked in a fierce battle with who seemed to be the leader of these evildoers.

The fight looked grueling—unfortunately, the advantage was tilting toward that Evil Sect bastard.

On the other side of the battlefield, the disciples of Huayoung Gate were screaming for their Gate Leader. On the ground sat a man, gasping for breath, his body covered in wounds oozing blood.

“Aaaaaaaaah!”

A desperate scream tore through the chaos.

“I am the Young Gate Leader of Huayoung Gate! You damn bastardssss!”

A young man roared, charging at the enemy before him. His sword strikes were swift and dazzling.

But it wasn’t enough.

Chung Mun wanted to rush over to assist, but a large group of Evil Sects people blocked his path.

Damn it!

Where are the Ten Great Sects? Where is Shaolin? Where is Southern Edge? Why are there only a handful of Beggars Union and Huayoung Gate disciples standing up to fight?

Mount Hua… had they even heard of this yet?

The boy’s brilliant sword strikes were swiftly deflected.

The enemy’s blade arced toward his chest, sharp and merciless.

“No!”

Chung Mun shouted, he wouldn’t make it in time.

Just at that moment—

A Taoist in black martial robes suddenly appeared, grabbing the young man and pulling him back before swinging his sword to deflect the enemy’s blade.

Clang!

Chung Mun could faintly see the symbol of a crimson plum blossom shimmering on that Taoist’s chest.

‘Mount Hua…’

Before Chung Mun could even regain his composure, a voice of pure relief and joy rang out behind him:

“C-Chung Myung Dojang!”

“Mount Hua—it’s Mount Hua! We’re saved!”

Chung Myung?

Chung Mun froze on the spot, feeling as though time itself had stopped.

A young man stood there, his black hair tied up almost carelessly into a high ponytail. The green ribbon securing it didn’t match the rest of his attire at all.

His physique was perfectly balanced, though a bit shorter than most martial artists, but he exuded a suffocating aura of dominance.

‘That person… is Chung Myung.’

“Well done.”

Chung Mun could hear his voice, calm and composed, as he gently patted the Young Gate Leader of Huayoung Gate on the head in praise.

Even the vicious Evil Sects members, who only moments ago had been rampaging wildly, suddenly froze in place, their gazes locked onto the Taoist who had just appeared.

Two more disciples of Mount Hua emerged, rescuing the old beggar who had been on the verge of death. The sheer power radiating from their bodies left Chung Mun wide-eyed in astonishment.

Mount Hua had lost much of its martial strength, but it still had disciples this formidable…

Watching the brief exchange, and seeing the curly-haired young man thrust his sword cleanly into the shoulder of the enemy who was still roaring earlier, Chung Mun finally understood why everyone here was calling out for Mount Hua rather than Southern Edge or any other sect.

‘Our next generation, truly worthy of pride…’

“Step back. You’re injured.”

“D-Dojang. I—”

“Let’s continue the conversation later.”

The voice of the man named 'Chung Myung' was calm and indifferent, yet it carried effortlessly across the battlefield.

The black Taoist attire fluttered with each step he took.

No one could take their eyes off him.

He stood there, silently observing, and, as if compelled, everyone around him fell into hushed stillness. A heavy, almost sacred silence blanketed the entire field.

‘So alike.’

A bead of sweat rolled down Chung Mun’s temple.

‘This feeling… It’s exactly like that brat.’

“You’ve…”

After sweeping his gaze slowly across the entire battlefield, the man finally spoke.

His expression and tone remained the same, but the oppressive aura bearing down on the Evil Faction members had shifted.

“…went on quite a rampage.”

The corners of his lips slowly curved up.

“So…”

His eyes scanned the group of Evil Sects from left to right, as if carefully committing each and every face before him to his memory.

“How would you like to die?”

The moment those words fell, the atmosphere on the battlefield turned bone-chillingly cold—like even the deepest depths of Avīci Hell would feel no different from this.

Chapter Text

The martial artists of Xi’an quickly regained their spirits, their eyes reddening as they stared at Chung Myung’s back. They dazedly murmured the familiar name—they were saved. They had truly been saved.

“…Mount Hua is here.”

A sigh of relief rang out. Yet somehow, it echoed deeply in the hearts of everyone present.

“I see.”

The one who seemed to be the leader of the Evil Sects crowd opened his mouth.

“Are you Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword?”

The moment that name was uttered, the enemy instantly grew restless, their faces turned pale. So familiar, Chung Mun thought. Back when Chung Myung was still the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, he had beaten down the Evil Sects so relentlessly that there hadn’t been a single trace of evil left in the entire Shaanxi region. Their reactions now were exactly the same as back then.

“The one at the Yangtze river…?”

“If Gal Cheon-rip said so then it must be true.”

Whispers. Murmurs.

The man didn’t seem to have any intention of talking to the one named Gal Cheon-rip; he merely stared at him.

“I guess you are.”

“…”

Still no response.

“Looks like some brat has become a bit too arrogant after gaining some hollow fame? Foolish bastard. Did you really think someone like you could compare to Jang Ilso? At first, I doubted it, but seeing you in person only makes me even more convinced.”

‘…If he really was that brat Chung Myung, that guy would’ve long been dead by now.’

Chung Mun looked at “Chung Myung”, starting to feel his own assumption waver.

“Got nothing you want to say?”

A faint smile appeared on the swordsman’s lips, and he spoke:

“What utter nonsense.”

“What’s so nonsensical about it? You’re just like that bastard Jang Ilso—”

Before Gal Cheon-rip could finish his sneer, Chung Myung abruptly cut him off:

“An arrogant Evil Sects bastard dared to bark in front of me?”

The sneer on Gal Cheon-rip’s face vanished.

“You—”

“You bark quite well.”

Chung Myung shook his head.

“If you insist on barking in front of me, then fine. But at least the words that came out of that lunatic Jang Ilso’s mouth were somewhat tolerable. But…”

Chung Myung’s lips curled into a mocking smile.

“You're not. You mongrel mutt.”

‘Oh, the similarity came back.’

Chung Mun nodded to himself.

Everything was just too familiar. If this man really was the Chung Myung he knew, then why was he letting this Evil Sects bastard ramble nonsense instead of lopping his head off like he usually would?

Had he gotten soft?

No, no matter how much softer he might have become compared to the past, he would never let the savages who dared to wreak havoc on Mount Hua’s territory walk away alive. Even he wanted to kill them, how could Chung Myung not want to?

Then… was he waiting for someone?

‘The Mount Hua of this era?’

That had to be it.

“I already told you to shut that filthy snout of yours.”

This time, that cold voice completely silenced Gal Cheon-rip. His expression froze stiff.

“I’ve had enough of you, you damn brat—”

“You seem to be misunderstanding something.”

Chung Myung bared his teeth in a sharp grin.

“I’m the one holding back from tearing you mongrel dogs into pieces. So don’t you dare open your mouth again. My patience has its limits.”

“You’re holding back?”

“…”

“Why? What are you holding back for?”

“Simple.”

Chung Myung gave him a mocking smile before continuing.

“Because I’m not the one who’s going to take your head.”

“…What did you just say?”

“And let me clear up something else you seem to have misunderstood.”

Chung Myung let out a short, derisive laugh and spoke.

“You said there were only three of us?”

And at that moment—

“There’s certainly not just three.”

A voice came from behind. Everyone turned their eyes toward a strikingly handsome man in black robes, approaching with deliberate, unhurried steps.

His gaze, brimming with murderous intent, locked onto Gal Cheon-rip’s figure.

“Not that three was insufficient.”

As that man’s words fell, a group of martial artists emerged right behind him.

‘Impressive… I couldn’t sense them at all.’

Chung Mun’s eyes lit up. At last, he was about to witness what Mount Hua looked like after a hundred years.

But that still wasn’t all.

One by one, more figures in black robes climbed onto the walls surrounding the manor.

“It seems the children of a hundred years later aren’t so bad.” 

He murmured under his breath.

“S-Sect Leader!”

“Sect Leader!”

The disciples of Huayoung Gate cried out.

Chung Mun’s gaze fell upon the man surrounded by the disciples.

He truly carried the air of a Sect Leader—this was Chung Mun’s honest thought.

He knew now wasn’t the time to feel this way, but somehow, an unshakable excitement stirred in his chest upon seeing them.

The future of the Sect - the future that he and his fellow martial siblings had sacrificed their very lives to protect - was now right before his very eyes…

The Sect Leader of Mount Hua stepped forward with a cold, stern face as his sharp gaze observed the situation.

His eyes burned a simmering rage.

“You dare…”

He clenched his fist tightly and bellowed:

“Un Goem. Baek Cheon!”

“Yes! Sect Leader!”

The two who was called immediately responded.

The momentum radiated by him was tremendous. It was not the dense killing intent of his disciples. But rather, it was a wrath resembled a volcano on the verge of eruption.

“You dare trespass into Shaanxi…”

Magnificent.

Even Chung Mun felt a shiver run down his spine.

“And attack the close friends of Mount Hua!”

“You dare commit such acts on the soil of Mount Hua…”

The Sect Leader exhaled briefly, then gave his command in a voice so firm and unyielding.

“Make those depraved bastards pay for what they’ve done! Let them learn what it means to incur the wrath of Mount Hua!”

“Yes, Sect Leader!”

Shrng! Shrng!

In perfect unison, the disciples of Mount Hua drew their swords.

“In the name of Mount Hua!”

The powerful voice came from the disciple wearing the hero’s ribbon on his forehead.

“Eradicate these villains!”

All at once, the Mount Hua disciples raised their swords and charged into the ranks of the Evil Sects.

The scene was like a surging black tide, threatening to shake the very heart of Xi’an.

Chapter Text

The tide of battle shifted in an instant with Mount Hua’s arrival.

The black-clad swordsmen surged toward the enemy, their strikes steady and precise. Plum blossoms bloomed on the tips of their swords, a dazzling sight that felt almost like stepping into the Celestial Realm.

Both the momentum and the strength of Mount Hua completely overwhelmed the Evil Sects force. They crushed their foes one by one as if they were nothing—so effortlessly that the enemies couldn’t even leave a scratch on a single disciple. 

At the rear, Chung Myung and the Five Swords simply stood by and watched without lifting a finger. This only made it clearer that, for Mount Hua, this was nothing more than a field exercise, a practical training session to gain more combat experience. Chung Myung’s sharp gaze missed not a single detail of the battle. If anything were to go wrong, he would intervene in an instant.

So itchy.

He wasn’t the type to obediently stay behind and just observe. Chung Myung was the sword of Mount Hua, the weapon that always took the lead and swept through every battlefield. That had been his role before, and it remained unchanged even after a hundred years.

The only thing different now was that he had become more mature.

To make Mount Hua stronger, to defeat the Heavenly Demon, he had to stay behind to let the younger generation take the lead.

Mount Hua could never grow strong if it relied on him alone. That was why he suppressed the searing rage which was urging him to tear apart those filthy little rats and instead stood here like an old guardian watching over his flock of children.

Still, it wasn’t so bad. Look at them, those once-fragile chicks had grown.

Chung Myung scratched his nose with quiet pride.

But then—

A figure slipped into his line of sight.

A figure so familiar that, for a moment, he thought he was seeing an illusion.

‘Sect Leader Sahyung?’

Startled, he blinked and rubbed his eyes, staring intently at Chung Mun.

‘No. No, it can’t be. Just a resemblance. It must be because I haven’t visited him in the Acestral Hall for so long that I’m seeing things, that old man’s just playing tricks on me.’

Looking closer, it was only a young man about his age, with a face that merely resembled Chung Mun’s.

“What’s wrong, Chung Myung? Why’d you suddenly jump up like that?”

Baek Cheon, who had caught his odd reaction, questioned.

“It’s nothing. Probably just an illusion.”

“Huh? Then the rumor about you secretly smoking opium is true??”

The one everyone knew too well, Jo Geol, blurted out as if he’d just uncovered some unbelievable scandal. Yoon Jong quickly tried to cover his mouth, but it was already too late.

“What? This Sahyung wants to die? No, no—who’s the bastard spreading those ridiculous rumors?!”

Chung Myung spun around instantly, eyes blazing like a wild beast, locking onto his curly-haired senior brother. Before blood could be spilled, Yoo Iseol executed a flawless kick and sent Jo Geol flying straight into a basket of fruits near by.

'You’ll thank me for that kick later' , she thought.

Baek Cheon, sensing the situation was about to spiral out of control, hurriedly tried to calm things down:

“Alright, alright, just focus on the match. Didn’t you say you needed to catch any mistakes from your Sasuks and Sahyungs?”

If you looked closely, you could see a bead of sweat rolling down his handsome face, even though he hadn’t done a thing.

“Tch, just you wait. When we get back to Mount Hua, you’re all finished!”

Chung Myung clicked his tongue, then folded his arms and turned his gaze back toward the young man who resembled his Sahyung, lost in thought. But no one seemed to notice his distraction.

Instead, Baek Cheon, Yoo Isoel, and Yoon Jong all fixed their eyes on Jo Geol, their gazes so sharp it was as if they wanted to tear him limb from limb.

Those were definitely not the eyes of a Sasuk/Sago/Sahyung looking at their Sajil/Sajae.

----🌸----

On the other side, Chung Mun was completely enthralled as he watched the battle unfolding before him.

They were still quite young, yet their swordsmanship were incredibly refined. Back in Mount Hua of a hundred years ago, it would have been difficult for so many disciples to possess such skill.

‘I heard Mount Hua nearly faced ruination, so how did they gain such strength?’

For a Great Sect like Mount Hua to be pushed to the brink was no simple matter.

On his way here, Chung Mun had inquired and pondered countless times: why did everyone say Mount Hua had only risen to fame in the martial world only a few years ago? Why did the Sect decline so drastically after the war with the Demonic Cult?

The answer could only be summed up in two words: ‘Money’ and ‘Strength’.

If Mount Hua’s martial arts manuals had survived, there was no way the later generations would have been cornered like that.

And if they had strength, then there was no way they wouldn’t have wealth.

So, the only logical conclusion was that Mount Hua had lost all of its martial arts.

Yet now, right before his eyes, were really the authentic Mount Hua Martial Techniques, unmistakable.

Could his earlier assumptions have been wrong?

No.

Chung Mun looked toward Chung Myung and, by chance, met his sharp, piercing gaze.

He didn’t falter. Instead, he returned the look with eyes full of hidden meaning before shifting his focus back to the battlefield.

He didn’t believe he was wrong.

The reason for such confidence was simple—within the sword strikes of the disciples, there lingered traces of killing intent that should never have existed in this so-called age of peace.

It wasn’t the kind of killing intent that emerged naturally in battle. No, the killing intent on those blades felt tempered, honed deliberately into them—a sensation completely different from ordinary murderous auras.

Someone had intervened.

Someone had prepared for them.

And in Chung Mun’s mind, he already had an idea who that someone might be.

It had to be someone deeply versed in Mount Hua’s Martial Arts, skilled enough to fill the void left by the Sect’s lost techniques.

It had to be someone overwhelmingly strong, capable of leading a sect on the brink of collapse back into dazzling prominence like today.

It had to be an old veteran steeped in countless battles, someone who could personally imprint such refined killing intent into the blades of these young disciples.

A single question arose: Why?

Why would that person go to such lengths for a sect that had fallen into such ruin it seemed beyond saving?

Why was he able to accomplish it?

Why could he achieve things that should have been impossible?

And, finally, why would he prepare these children, who grew up in an era of peace, for things that were only useful in times of war?

What was he afraid of?

Chung Mun clenched his fists, the possibilities kept narrowing, until only one name remained.

The 'Divine Dragon of Mount Hua' , the one who suddenly appeared and shook the whole Kangho.

Or should he say…

Plum Blossom Sword Saint Chung Myung?

At that moment, Chung Mun was certain of the answer to the question that had haunted him all this time.

Noticing the burning gaze fixed on him, Chung Myung tried to ignore it but eventually found himself looking toward Chung Mun once more.

When their eyes met, he froze.

‘What the?’

What’s with that look?

It was as if… pitying him. No—more precisely, it was a look filled with sorrow.

And yet, within it, there was a flicker of joy. A trace of pride.

Chung Myung felt an inexplicable urge to rush over and demand answers from that person.

Why are you looking at me like that?

Who are you?

But in the end, he held himself back.

‘I don’t even know what I’m hoping for anymore. Damn it!’

A quiet curse echoed in Chung Myung’s mind.

Chapter Text

Mount Hua had achieved a complete and overwhelming victory—a triumph so absolute that even someone who had lived through the Sect’s Golden Age, like Chung Mun, couldn’t help but be surprised by the outcome.

‘What on earth did that brat do to these kids? It hasn’t even been 10 years since Mount Hua Divine Dragon appeared, has it?’

A scene from long ago flashed through Chung Mun’s mind: Chung Myung, in his form as the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, casually munching on a cake in front of him. When asked about taking in disciples, that rascal crushed the pastry in his hand, crumbs scattering everywhere:

'First, I’ll beat them to a pulp.' 

Hmmmm.

Chung Mun cast a concerned glance at the disciples who now helping the common folk.

'After they’ve been beaten half to death, I'll make them walk around the courtyard on their hands.' 

Chung Mun’s eyes moved to the burly, bandit-like physiques of the sword cultivators, then to the faint scars on the neck of the handsome man wearing the hero’s ribbon.

“...”

Hahaha.

Surely that madman wouldn’t go as far as to kill his own descendants, right?

Right, there was no way that would happen.

…

..

.

Seriously, please don’t!

Chung Mun forced a crooked smile and clasped his hands together, muttering a quiet “Boundless Heavenly Lord.” under his breath, just as a young female disciple noticed him and approached.

“Hello, you seem to be in better shape than others. Would you mind if I gave you a quick check?”

“Ah, no, not at all. If you could, I’d be very grateful.”

He only had a few scratches, nothing serious. Tang Soso pressed a small bottle of ointment into his hand before hurrying off again. Chung Mun watched her figure fade into the distance with a faint smile. Anyway, for now, the children were doing very well, so he could generously spare Chung Myung a few words of praise, which he had rarely received in his previous life.

‘It’s not that I didn’t want to praise him… it’s just because that a certain hotheaded guy always insisted on driving people mad first.’

By now, Chung Myung’s figure had disappeared. Chung Mun shook his head, applied the ointment over his wounds, and then quickly went to help everyone clean up the mess left by the Evil Sects bastards. 

‘Ah, So Myung.’

He’d have to go fetch that little one later, too.

Today was truly a busy day.

----🌸----

Chung Mun was staying at an inn across the Eunha Merchant Guild.

With Mount Hua’s help, the lives of the common folk in Xi’an had already stabilized. Since then, he still hadn’t had the chance to meet Chung Myung face-to-face. Although Chung Mun was eighty to ninety percent certain of his guess and had unconsciously thought of that man as his Sajae, there was still a part of him that feared he might be wrong. What if it was all just a coincidence? Or… had Chung Myung secretly fathered a child?

Hmmmm.

Chung Mun rested his chin in his hand, squinting his eyes shut in thought.

‘Is there really a woman in this world who could put up with his personality?’

If there was, she must have a heart as vast as the heavens, a true sage of endless tolerance, because even someone like him couldn’t stand that madman, and had wanted more than once to beat him to a pulp. Did such a person really exist?

Chung Mun sighed. Asking him to believe that was harder than believing Mount Hua and Southern Edge would one day live in harmony!

Even though Mount Hua and Southern Edge getting along peacefully was not exactly something anyone could see happening…

No, that had to be Chung Myung. He would never mistake the junior brother he had raised since the time when that brat couldn’t even crawl.

Another sigh slipped out.

Speaking of Southern Edge, what on earth were they thinking, keeping their Sect's gate sealed shut in such chaotic times?

Not even a single disciple had shown their face. Weren’t most of the families in Xi’an sending their children to become disciples of Southern Edge?

Chung Mun sat on the window ledge, his gaze distant and unfocused, fixed in the direction of Mount Hua.

‘Just what kind of mess has Kangho become a hundred years later?’

There was no one who could give him that answer now.

“…”

“The moon’s beautiful tonight.”

Maybe he should go sle—

?

A dark figure had just darted into Eunha Merchant Guild.

Chung Mun rubbed his eyes, had he seen that wrong?

A thief?

Whoever had slipped into Eunha Merchant Guild was clearly a skilled warrior; within seconds, their presence vanished without a trace.

He gritted his teeth, about to dash down to alert the patrolling martial artists, when yet another group of people came rushing through.

‘Uh… what exactly is happening right now?’

With dead-fish eyes, Chung Mun stared at the group that was sneaking into Eunha Merchant Guild as well. These “thieves” were all wearing Mount Hua uniforms, and they were the same striking figures he’d seen earlier.

Let’s see, the handsome man with the hero ribbon, the cold beauty, the curly-haired guy, the narrow-eyed one, the girl who’d given him the ointment, and… a monk wearing Mount Hua robes?

Weird. That friendly girl was even carrying a steel net over her shoulder.

Do the future Mount Hua disciples have a habit of going night hunting?

But in Xi’an, especially in Eunha Merchant Guild, what exactly would they even be hunting?

Then Chung Mun recalled the dark figure from earlier.

‘Ah, they must be catching the thief.’

…Though, to be honest, they looked just as suspicious as thieves themselves.

Mount Hua sword cultivators catching a thief with a steel net. Haha, these kids are really something!

…

Chung Mun burst out laughing—

But then the corners of his mouth slowly, slowly began to drop…

‘No, the more I think about it, the stranger it seems.’

He squatted down and held his head. He couldn’t make sense of it. A creeping sense of unease twisted in his gut. Yes, he recognized this feeling—the same feeling he always had whenever that brat Chung Myung was about to cause trouble.

“This can’t be. I have to check this out right now!”

He had to save Mount Hua’s future!

One Chung Myung was already more than enough!!

In a hurry, Chung Mun grabbed a set of dark clothes, threw them on, and slipped into Eunha Merchant Guild, following the exact path that group had taken earlier.

And thus, for the very first time in his life, Chung Mun—the Great Virtuous Sword, the 13th Sect Leader of the Great Mount Hua Sect—found himself sneaking and crawling about like a common thief.

----🌸----

‘If they’re going to steal something, the warehouse would definitely be their target.’

While suppressing his own presence, Chung Mun skillfully avoided the patrolling guards, heading toward what he assumed to be the warehouse of Eunha Merchant Guild.

‘Ah, wait, wait, there’s no guarantee the kids came here to steal anything…’

Hiding behind a wall as a guard passed by, Chung Mun furrowed his brows, then shook his head vigorously.

Whoosh. Rustle.

He leapt up onto a tree branch.

‘But that brat surely would. That shameless little…’

That sneaky, lowly posture, he was definitely committing a crime!

Just then, he heard a commotion somewhere nearby. A group of guards was rushing in one direction. Chung Mun was about to follow when they were stopped by a man running from that way.

“Stop. I don’t think you should go over there.”

“Why? What if there’s a thief?”

“It’s the people from Mount Hua. They said they have something to deal with, no need for us to interfere.”

“Ah, if it’s them, then there’s no need to worry.”

The group chuckled, exchanged a few more casual remarks, then dispersed to continue their patrols elsewhere.

Only Chung Mun remained, silently perched on the tree, his gaze fixed on the warehouse.

'This… surely isn’t just covering for their own people, right?' 

Ah, his head, his poor head was starting to throb unbearably.

----🌸----

When Chung Mun finally reached the warehouse, a voice rang out:

“No matter how much you crave wine, how could you go and rob the Merchant Guild’s storage, huh? HUH? You lunatic!”

“But I haven’t even tasted it yet!”

Chung Mun covered his face with both hands.

Oh,  Heavenly Primordial Lord… he really went to steal wine from a merchant guild.

A Taoist, sneaking out in the dead of night to steal wine, what a disgrace.

A single clear tear slipped from the corner of Chung Mun’s eye.

Chung Mun peeked at them quietly. The man with the hero’s ribbon was patting the girl with two hair buns, praising her.

And on the ground, Chung Myung was sprawled out flat, sulking under the iron net.

‘Haha, so it really WAS a hunt.’

Well done, they’d already “evacuated” the outsiders. Clever, clever.

If this disgraceful scene were to leak out, Mount Hua would truly be finished, the reputation of a Great Justice Sect would go straight down the drain.

“Can you please behave like a normal person, hmm? Have you forgotten where you are?”

“Then give me money!”

“…”

“Not a single coin in my pocket! I can’t even go outside! And you won’t let me drink! And yet you still expect me to practice Taoism?”

“…Chung Myung, you’re a Taoist.”

‘Yeah, that’s right, you’re a Taoist!’

Please, for heaven’s sake, live like a Taoist—no, at least live like a decent, normal human being, you damn brat!

Chung Mun rubbed at his temples, his stomach twisting painfully. This wasn’t good, this body was still in the prime of youth, he didn’t want to end up with a stomach ulcer yet.

Suppressing the wave of despair rising inside, Chung Mun continued peering inside.

‘Oh no, don’t—!!!’

The narrow-eyed man popped open the wine bottle.

In an instant, silence fell.

Oh.

The eyes of the hungry wolves…

Realizing he had just made a grave mistake, the man hurriedly tried to stopper the bottle again.

But everyone in the room was still staring straight at him.

Could it be…

“A-actually… Chung Myung has been quite cooperative, so… just one bottle shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

The curly-haired young man spoke up.

‘No. No, there is a problem.’

“Y-yeah, exactly. Honestly, with sahyung's personality, the fact that he’s held back for this long is already impressive. Locking up a tiger and only feeding it grass instead of meat… isn’t that weird? Right?”

The twin-bun girl chimed in as well.

‘No. That brat deserves it.’

“Hmm. But the memorial for those who sacrificed themselves hasn’t even ended yet…”

The man who had opened the bottle tried to object, but his curly-haired sajae quickly countered:

“Don’t people still drink during funerals?”

“Of course, he can’t overdo it. But,  just one bottle… and if we sit here and supervise him, it should be okay, right?”

The man with the hero’s ribbon, who seemed to hold the highest rank among them, was just about to speak up and stop this nonsense—

When the icy, cold beauty suddenly cut in:

“…We could have a drink ourselves while supervising him.”

“S-Samae?”

Everyone turned their eyes to the handsome man with the hero’s ribbon.

“Sasuk, you decide.”

“…”

‘These brats… you… you all!’

Chung Mun squeezed his eyes shut, as if refusing to witness this cruel reality.

It’s you lot who want to drink! Don’t you dare make excuses!

“Ahem.”

The man who was addressed as ‘Sasuk’ cleared his throat.

“Then just one bottle shou—”

Right at that moment, a small sound drew everyone’s attention.

“Monk?”

“J-just one bottle…”

The young monk was holding up an entire crate of wine.

“…Huh?”

The monk’s big round eyes sparkled innocently.

“…It’s nothing.”

Oh, oh, oh no.

Chung Mun’s head throbbed like it was about to split open.

It was bad enough that the descendants were already corrupted, but now even a monk had been dragged into this mess!

Chung Myung, you absolute bastard!

Chung Mun looked on in utter despair at the group who called themselves Sahyungs/Sasuks. Not only did they fail to stop their Sajae/Sajil from doing something wrong, but they even encouraged and joined in the wrongdoing.

His weary gaze landed on the corner of the room, where the group was whispering to each other:

“First, we have to secretly slip out.”

“If that’s the case, we should leave the entire Merchant Guild’s premises. Otherwise, someone might notice.”

“We have to erase all traces. Completely.”

Right after that came Chung Myung’s weak voice:

“You’re all having a lot of fun, aren’t you?”

…This bunch—they’re straight-up thieves!!!

----🌸----

The group quickly divided the tasks: someone carried the crate of wine, another unchained Chung Myung, while someone else poked their head out to scout the surroundings.

Chung Mun swiftly moved away from the storage house to avoid being discovered. From a dark corner, he looked up at the sky and clasped his hands to his chest.

“Everyone…”

His voice was choked with emotion.

“Mount Hua is doomed.”

His tone was weak and trembling, as if he were on the verge of tears.

Chapter Text

“Kuakkk!”

“This stuff is top-notch!”

“Is it because it’s expensive? Or is it just that we haven’t had a drink for so long that it tastes amazing?”

“Another cup!”

The moment Chung Mun got close to Chung Myung’s group, he was greeted by a raucous noise, as if they were throwing a grand feast.

And indeed, it was a feast - a drinking feast.

One person was pouring wine for another, and there were even some who were chugging straight from the bottle like a man dying of thirst stumbling upon an oasis in the desert. If it were just Chung Myung, Chung Mun wouldn’t even bat an eye, he was far too used to that. But even a bright, dignified-looking monk was also drinking with wild abandon?

Wasn’t that boy from Shaolin? Since when did Shaolin send their disciples to Mount Hua? Since when did they allow their monks to drink like a bandit?

In the direction where Chung Mun was staring, Hye Yeon had tilted the entire wine bottle over his face, gulping it down in great swigs.

‘You little goblin, just what kind of trouble have you stirred up all this time?!’

Corrupting the youths of Mount Hua was bad enough, and now you’re even tempting a young monk to break his vows—do you even have a conscience left?!

While Chung Myung was gulping down wine, he suddenly sneezed, choking and coughing as the liquor went down the wrong way. Baek Cheon quickly patted his back, asked:

“You okay? What happened?”

“Who knows, my nose just felt itchy so I sneezed.”

He wiped the corner of his mouth and immediately went back to finish the half-empty wine bottle.

Kuakkkk!

When he was done, he exhaled in satisfaction, his expression radiating the pure, simple bliss of a man whose life’s happiness amounted to just that.

‘Truly beyond saving.’

“Ugh. For a moment there, I thought I was dead.”

“…No one dies from drinking wine.”

“Well, just now, it almost happened.”

“…But it didn’t.”

‘Forget it, there’s no point reasoning with him.’

Chung Mun saw a reflection of his much younger self in the man wearing the hero headband.

If reasoning actually worked, Chung Myung wouldn’t have become such a hopeless drunkard in the first place!

‘Just what kind of karma did I accumulate in my past life for the heavens to dump that brat on me?’

While silently lamenting his fate, Chung Mun’s thoughts were interrupted by Baek Cheon’s voice:

“More importantly…”

“What’s your plan from here on?”

“Huh? What are you suddenly talking about? Are you already drunk, Sasuk?”

“I’m talking about the Evil Tyrant Alliance.”

In an instant, the entire atmosphere shifted.

“As far as I know, the situation over there doesn’t seem to be going very smoothly. Do you think they can handle it?”

“Hm.”

Chung Myung set the liquor bottle down, lifted his head,  his eyes narrowed slightly.

----🌸----

Chung Mun held his breath, carefully listening to the exchange between the two.

It sounded very serious. Could something bad be happening to Mount Hua?

“…I plan to enjoy myself and rest for a while first.”

Huh?

“Don’t joke around like that.”

“I’m serious.”

Wait, hold on—this wasn’t at all what he had imagined!

“Why are you looking at me like that, Sasuk? That’s not for me to decide.”

“It’s those bastards who make the decisions.”

Evil Tyrant Alliance.

The Evil Sect coalition was tied to the incident that had forced Mount Hua to enter Bongmun and at the same time, it was also the same alliance that had brought an indelible stain upon the Ten Great Sects and the Five Great Families.

“But according to the words of Branch Leader Hong, there’s a high chance that the Evil Tyrant Alliance won’t be able to advance due to internal conflicts.”

“There’s no way that’d happen.”

“Yes, they might have internal strife. But he won’t delay something so important just because of that. He’s not the type to be shackled by such things.”

This was the first time Chung Mun had ever heard Chung Myung speak so highly of someone from the Evil Faction.

Evil Tyrant Alliance Leader - Jang Ilso.

On Chung Mun’s journey to Shaanxi, that name was constantly whispered alongside Evil Tyrant Alliance, the man who inspired fear and terror. That was what the world said about him.

From the conversation among the Mount Hua disciples, it was clear that this man’s existence was truly terrifying—his strength and cunning were enough for even a monster like Chung Myung to acknowledge. He was an enemy that Mount Hua had to be wary of, certainly.

The key point was this: the Evil Sects members who attacked Shaanxi that day were actually the factions opposing the Evil Tyrant Alliance. And Jang Ilso, the Leader of that alliance, knew about this yet allowed them to invade Xi’an anyway, as if it were merely another move in his grand scheme.

‘How terrifying.’

A true mastermind was someone who didn’t even need to lift a hand yet could still set the stage for everything to unfold exactly as they wished.

Chung Mun glanced at the Mount Hua disciples who were teasing one another, then back at Chung Myung’s heavy expression.

‘The future really is complicated, isn’t it, Chung Myung?’

Back in Chung Mun’s era, that guy never had to bother with schemes or calculations, he only knew how to use his fists to solve problems. Chung Mun had always tried to guide that immature child toward growth, to make him learn to shoulder responsibility for his position.

And now, it had finally come true.

But it didn’t feel as joyful as he thought it would.

‘So you’ve learned to use your head, huh, you little brat.’

“So stop overthinking.”

Chung Myung’s firm voice cut through the air.

“Because before long, we’ll be fighting until we’re sick of it.”

Wars came and went. They ended, only to begin again. In his previous life, Chung Mun and his martial siblings met a tragic end because of war, and now, even in the begining of this new life, he was forced to face that same dreadful thing again. Truly, the heavens were mocking him.

‘Should I even feel lucky to have been reborn?’

The atmosphere became heavier. Chung Myung lightly swirled the wine jug in his hand.

“So for today, just drink your fill.”

And the drinking party resumed.

Cheerfully.

----🌸----

It was well past the third watch of the night. The disciples lay sprawled across the floor, dead drunk and fast asleep, oblivious to the world. Only one person remained awake.

“Come out. I know you’re there.”

In the silence of the room, Chung Myung’s voice rang out, calm and unhurried, directed toward the tightly closed door.

Creak.

The door slowly opened. Without hesitation, Chung Mun stepped into the room, his hands forming a fist-and-palm salute.

“Apologies for being discovered by Dojang himself.”

His figure stood against the moonlight, yet somehow it seemed to glow with an unusual radiance. Chung Myung froze for a brief second before regaining his composure:

“Looks like you’ve managed to overhear quite a bit from us, haven’t you? So, how was it? Scurrying around like a little rat all this time, did you get the information you wanted?”

Normally, he wouldn’t have tolerated someone sneaking around for this long. But for some reason, he had chosen to wait, to speak to this stalker calmly.

He had a feeling.

That this was the right thing to do.

Chung Myung’s sharp gaze swept over Chung Mun from head to toe. Yet, the other man remained silent, meeting his eyes with calm composure.

‘So alike…’

It was the strange man he had seen that day.

The one who resembled his Sect Leader Sahyung.

Perhaps it was the gentle, refined air that radiated from this man that unconsciously, Chung Myung felt his own sharpness dull ever so slightly.

“Not going to answer?”

“May I speak with Dojang alone for a moment?”

“…”

Chung Myung was silent for a long while, but Chung Mun showed no impatience.

“You should know that you can’t kill me.”

“I know. And I don’t intend to. I just wish to talk with Dojang for a bit. Would that be alright?”

“Why can’t we talk here?”

“Because they don’t need to know.”

Chung Mun tilted his head slightly toward the Five Swords and Hye Yeon, who were still dead drunk, collapsed in a heap in the corner of the room.

“I won’t harm Dojang. I only wish to talk.”

“Hah, someone like you thinks you could harm me?”

At last, Chung Myung stood up. He stretched lazily, then began walking toward Chung Mun, each step steady and deliberate.

“What you’re going to say had better be worth it. Otherwise, you’d best watch out for your life.”

He didn’t know why he agreed.

He didn’t know why, deep within, there was a faint sense of anticipation—

For something illusory, something that should have been impossible.

Chapter Text

Whoosh. Whoosh.

Two figures shot through the night and landed at the edge of a desolate forest.

“Enough. If you have something to say, say it quickly.”

The moment his feet touched the ground, Chung Myung spoke with clear irritation. They were standing at a spot far from Xi’an City, a place that offered the whole view of the city. But now wasn’t the time for sightseeing, his patience had its limits.

Chung Mun fixed his gaze on Chung Myung, then gently spoke a name, as soft as a breeze slipping past the ear:

“Chung Mun.”

“What?”

“Chung Mun. That is my name.”

In an instant, Chung Myung froze like a statue. His eyes, unable to hide their shock, widened ever so slightly - a reaction Chung Mun caught in full. He smiled faintly at Chung Myung:

“You are Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword, Chung Myung of the Mount Hua Sect, are you not?”

“...Yeah.”

A chill ran straight down Chung Myung’s spine. His mind stalled, unable to process, and all he could manage was a vague, reluctant murmur in reply.

Was this… just a coincidence?

Or was his Sahyung here to haunt him?

‘Old man, don’t tell me you’ve come back as a ghost…’

He lifted his head to look at the sky.

It wasn’t even the Ghost Month(1) yet.

Chung Mun, curious, followed his gaze, but saw nothing but clouds upon clouds.

“Dojang, are you alright?”

There was no answer.

So he could only remain silent, because right now Chung Myung didn’t look like he was in the mood to talk.

Indeed, it was a name that weighed heavily on Chung Myung’s mind.

A coincidence? A ghost? Or perhaps a descendant of his Sect Leader Sahyung?

Coincidence sounded far-fetched—this man’s movements were far too suspicious. Yet Chung Myung couldn’t sense any malice from him. Just an unknown wanderer in Kangho, so how could he hide himself and move with the skill of an experienced warrior?

Not to mention, the name ‘Chung Mun’,  he had never heard it in this era. Was this man even from around here?

“Where did you come from?” Chung Myung finally asked.

“I came from the Southern part of Sichuan, from a mountain lying between the territories of Qingcheng Sect and Emei Sect.”

Again, silence.

Chung Myung sank deeper into thought, and Chung Mun also didn’t disturb him.

Coincidence didn’t sound very convincing, but it was something he could begrudgingly accept.

Descendants of Sect Leader Sahyung? No way. That old man spent his entire life wandering within Mount Hua, keeping company with ledgers and disciples. Where would he ever find a woman to fall in love with? And who in their right mind would name their child after someone from a previous generation?

Chung Myung shot Chung Mun a sidelong glance.

He didn’t believe in ghosts, especially the kind that could stand before him and speak like a living person. And if by chance, his Sahyung’s spirit could return, then he wouldn’t have ended up imagining things up, then holding one-sided conversations like that.

…Besides, he himself had already lived through the impossible.

Chung Myung subtly pinched the back of his hand, just to make sure this wasn’t a dream. Could something as absurd as reincarnation really happen twice within the same sect?

It was just a name. And just a face that happened to bear some resemblance.

Those alone didn’t prove anything.

Chung Myung drew in a deep breath, his face already regaining its usual composure. Then, in an irritable tone, he snapped:

“Is that all? If you called me out here just to tell me your name, you’re playing with fire, brat.”

“No, I only wanted to confirm something.”

“Oh, confirm, huh? Why don’t you draw your sword and feel it out yourself? Kids these days really love running their mouths, don’t they?”

He arched one brow, his right hand already resting on the hilt of his sword. That rough, bandit-like demeanor, paired with the way he casually called others 'kids these days,' Chung Mun no longer had a shred of doubt. This was indeed his mad dog Sajae.

“I’m not here to confirm your strength. I want to confirm your identity.”

“Yeah, yeah. Though I’m not particularly fond of the title 'Mount Hua’s Divine Dragon' or 'Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword' or whatever, I am Chung Myung. So I’ll ask one more time—why did you drag me out here? What exactly do you want to say?”

Chung Myung dug a finger in his ear, lips jutting out in clear annoyance. He really wanted to plant a fist in this idle man’s face, but the moment he saw that face, so strikingly similar to his Sect Leader Sahyung’s,  he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Consider yourself lucky, hmph!

“Shall I tell Dojang a story?”

“No—”

“Long, long ago…”

Not waiting for Chung Myung’s reply, Chung Mun began:

“Long, long ago, there was a Sect atop a steep and perilous mountain. That sect was always filled with the breath of Spring. Even as the four seasons cycled one after another, flowers forever bloomed, painting the sky in vivid red.”

Chung Myung fell silent, quietly listening.

“One day, someone climbed those jagged, vertical cliffs and left a newborn baby at the gates of the sect, then vanished without a trace.”

“…What happened to that baby?”

At some point, Chung Myung had crossed his arms, his expression turning serious.

“The sect took the baby in and raised him.”

“That child grew up under the sect’s protection. He was a genius, even though his temper was terrible, he quickly became a Rising Star of his generation.”

“And when he came of age, he had grown so powerful that no one in Kangho could defeat him. He became the greatest pride of that sect. He had crushed the enemy of all the Central Plains and brought peace to the land.”

And then… he died, unable to save the very sect that had raised him.

Chung Myung knew exactly who the story was about.

“Why are you telling me this?”

An unnamed dread stirred in his chest, making his blood churn restlessly.

Who was this person?

Even in Shaanxi, very few knew of his past name—so how could this man before him know?

Demonic Cult?

A descendant of a Mount Hua disciple?

Or… was this someone like him?

“I told you because it seems that you’re very similar to that person.”

Chung Mun stepped closer.

“You are the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, Chung Myung of the Great Mount Hua Sect…”

“…”

“… Am I right?”

“WHO ARE YOU?!!”

Chung Myung drew his sword, the tip stopping just an inch from Chung Mun’s throat. The cold gleam of the blade made him shiver. My, why the sudden outburst?

“I already told you. I am Chung Mun.”

The hand holding the sword trembled.

“I came to confirm whether you…”

He pointed at Chung Myung.

“…are truly my Sajae or not.”

Then he pointed at himself.

Chung Myung’s blood seemed to freeze in his veins.

He hadn’t moved a muscle, yet sweat had already soaked through his back.

“Sa…”

The words scraped out of his throat.

“Sect Leader… Sahyung?”

“It seems I was right.”

Chung Mun exhaled softly, a gentle smile blooming on his face.

“It’s been a long time… Chung Myung.”

Something shattered inside—joy, sorrow, and a flood of emotions all at once.

Chapter Text

“Sahyung?”

“Yes.”

“Sect Leader Sahyung?”

“That’s me.”

“Chung Mun Sahyung?”

“…”

“Are you really the Great Virtuous Sword - Chung Mun?”

“Then are you really the Plum Blossom Sword Saint - Chung Myung?”

The two of them stood silently, staring at each other.

“Answer me first.”

It was Chung Myung who spoke up again.

‘Seriously!’

“I’ve told you everything I could, even brought up stories from the old days. What more do you want from me?”

Chung Mun was momentarily speechless. Admittedly, he had meant to test (and tease) him a little at first, which was why he’d drawn things out more than usual. But hadn’t he already said enough to prove who he truly was? Why did this brat keep asking the same thing over and over?

At the moment, Chung Myung’s face looked pitifully blank, his plum blossom-colored pupils fixed on Chung Mun’s face. His hand reached out—then quickly pulled back, as if afraid to act on a fragile hope.

Seeing his long-lost junior brother like this stirred something deep in Chung Mun’s heart, as if a sharp claw had scraped through his chest. Of course he’s shocked. How could he not be?

Just as he was about to step forward and place a hand on Chung Myung’s shoulder:

“Figures, it’s been so long since I last cleaned your memorial tablet, no wonder you’re haunting me even in my dreams.”

Chung Mun froze mid-step.

Chung Myung scratched his head and let out a long sigh:

“Alright, alright, I’ll head back soon, tidy up Mount Hua, fix the place up properly.  So Sahyung, just return to Heaven in peace, please?”

“?”

Waving dismissively, Chung Myung turned and began walking back toward the forest’s edge, clearly deciding that this whole encounter was nothing more than a crazy hallucination of a man whose liquor tolerance had gone down after too long without a proper drink.

‘What the hell— I won’t believe it.’

He had pinched himself earlier to confirm this wasn’t a dream, but honestly? If someone told him this was the possession of a cranky old spirit, that’d be way easier to accept than the idea that his Sect Leader Sahyung had also come back to life.

Like…what’s the word? Right, like being haunted. Still more believable.

Getting led around by a ghost wasn’t all that unusual anyway. There were plenty of stories like that floating around the world. Maybe he was just the unlucky type with a weak heart.

Behind him, Chung Mun stood frozen in place, everything was spiraling far beyond his expectations.

Who could’ve guessed that Chung Myung would react like this?

“Wait a minute, you little brat!”

He rushed forward and grabbed the back of Chung Myung’s robe, but the latter just kept walking without even glancing back.

“Come on, Sect Leader Sahyung, cut me some slack here! I’ve been very busy; I didn’t exactly have time to hang around and play with you!”

“I am really your Sahyung! The real deal!”

“Yeah yeah, sure. Stop haunting me, alright? I’ll go back soon and even offer you an extra cake. Deal?”

“You little shit!”

Chung Mun suddenly yanked the sheathed sword from Chung Myung’s waist. With one swift motion, smacked it right across his backside.

"???”

Chung Myung widened his eyes and spun around in shock. Could a ghost in a dream really be this violent?

The sharp sting, something he hadn’t felt in years, was now very much evident and throbbing on one side of his rear.

“Ow! Why’d you hit me?!”

“To knock some sense into you, obviously!”

Chung Mun swung again, this time aiming for Chung Myung’s leg—but the latter dodged swiftly, leaping onto a tree branch like a habit.

“Get down here! If you think this is a hallucination, then I’ll beat you awake!”

“What is wrong with you?”

He rubbed his sore backside, not because it hurt, but because it brought back a strange wave of nostalgia.

“When words fail, violence speaks.”

Now reborn in a youthful body full of energy, Chung Mun found his spirit also rejuvenated. At this moment, they were just two regular Taoist, there were no titles, no face needs to be saved. 

So he’d just let the whip do the talking.

“Seriouslly! I’m really busy! Stop pestering me, Sect Leader Sahyung!”

He still refused to believe. Reincarnation happening again? That was absurd.

“This is reality, Chung Myung! This is really happening!”

“What do I have to do to make you believe me?”

Chung Mun placed one hand on his hip, the other massaging his temple as he sighed deeply. Honestly, he no longer knew what to do with Chung Myung’s line of thinking.

“How about this, why don’t you come and touch me? If I’m really a ghost, you’d just go right through me, wouldn’t you?”

He opened his arms, inviting him forward.

Chung Myung hesitated. Half of him wanted to try, the other half… not so much. What if, the moment he touched him, his Sect Leader Sahyung would truly disappeared?

He’d had dreams like that before - so many dreams - where he saw his martial siblings from his past life. And every time, the moment he reached out, they all vanished like fragile wisps of mist.

Would this time be the same?

Seeing him sit still up on the tree branch like that, Chung Mun realized something. His Sajae was hesitating. What was he afraid of that kept him from coming closer?

“What are you scared of?”

“Well, you know, I’m not exactly someone who believes strongly in spirituality. But after being reincarnated, I can’t not believe in some part of it…”

Chung Myung’s voice faltered, made Chung Mun raised an eyebrow, puzzled.

“If a living and a dead person touch each other—what if you vanish?”

He scratched his head awkwardly, clearly embarrassed to say it out loud.

But it was true. He’d dreamed of his late Sahyungs and Sajaes many times. Sometimes he knew it was a dream, sometimes he didn’t. But every time, the moment he touched those familiar faces…

They dissolved. Like steam. Like a memory he couldn’t hold on to.

Even if this Chung Mun ghost was a little different from the Sect Leader Sahyung he remembered… No, maybe time had just worn down those memories until they were no longer clear.

Either way, as long as it was Chung Mun, he still wanted to look at him for a little longer.

Admitting this out loud would be no different from confessing he was scared like some little kid.

Though… honestly, he was scared.

Just a little.

“I’m not afraid… I just wanted to ask: if I touch you, will you disappear?”

This time it was Chung Mun whose expression faltered. Suppressing the sudden tightness in his chest, he smiled gently:

“Why don’t you just come and find out?”

“Well, I don’t dare to try, that's why I asked, why you—”

“I won’t.”

Chung Mun cut him off.

“I won’t, Chung Myung-ah.”

Chung Myung silently observed him, looking cautious like a small puppy.

“How could I possibly leave you behind?”

“So come down here, okay?”

He opened his arms once more, smile softening into something that warmed like spring sunlight.

Almost unconsciously, Chung Myung obeyed that call and landed gently on the ground.

But he still stood there, rooted in place, not daring to step closer.

“Oh dear, since when did the Plum Blossom Sword Saint become such a scaredy-cat?”

“Stop it.”

Seeing that his Sajae still had no intention of moving, Chung Mun took a few more steps toward him.

“Come here. Didn’t you want to confirm for yourself?”

“…”

Chung Myung hesitated, then cautiously took a single step forward.

“Hurry up, my arms are getting tired.”

He could tell his Sajae was lost in a whirlwind of emotion, so he stayed patient.

He must’ve been so terribly lonely, hadn’t he?

Chung Mun watched as the young man slowly made his way over. When there were only a few paces left between them, he suddenly lunged forward and pulled him into a hug.

“Ah!”

Chung Myung let out a startled yelp as Chung Mun buried his face into his chest, roughly ruffling his already disheveled hair until it was a hopeless mess.

Even though they were both shorter than in their previous lives, Chung Mun was still taller than him by about a finger’s length.

“You little rascal, acting all timid like this. It’s not like you at all!”

The steady heartbeat and the warmth of a living body left Chung Myung stunned into silence.

Despite his hair now a hopeless mess, he lifted his face to look at Chung Mun.

“This ghost’s way too real…”

“I’M NOT A GHOST!!!”

Chung Mun smacked him on the head. Chung Myung was dazed for a moment, then hesitated:

“You… really came back to life?”

“I’ve said that over and over, but you just wouldn’t believe me.”

With a sigh, Chung Mun shifted to pull him into a proper hug, gently patting his back like he was comforting a child. As he patted, he murmured:

“Can you feel it? The breath of the living?”

“…Uhm.”

They didn’t speak any further.

Trembling slightly, Chung Myung returned the embrace, his eyes rimmed red though not a single tear fell.

The joy had struck too suddenly, overwhelming him entirely.

It was a happiness so immense… it almost became frightening.

Because if this really was just a dream—then what would happen when he woke up?

“Still think this is a dream, you brat?”

Chung Mun knocked Chung Myung on the head again before letting him go. Seeing the look of quiet turmoil on his junior brother’s face, he gave a sharp flick against his forehead.

“There are many things I don’t quite understand. You don’t mind telling me everything, do you?”

Chung Myung stood frozen, cradling his now-reddened forehead, and gave a slight nod.

“This night will be a long one. Tell me about Mount Hua. Tell me about the world a hundred years later…”

“About the battles Mount Hua had fought. And about your own victories, Chung Myung.”

He walked to the edge of the cliff, where the entire city of Xi’an sprawled beneath the moonlight in full view.

“You have to tell me everything, no skipping.”

Chung Mun turned to look at him. In that brief moment, a tear slid down the corner of Chung Myung’s eye.

He quickly wiped it away and, with a hoarse voice, replied:

“As Sect Leader Sahyung commands.”

“…But seriously, you’re so curious, old man.”

If only they had some wine.

Chapter Text

"Why are you doing this, Sect Leader! What do you mean by ‘lacking’! How can you say that! Mount Hua is by no means lacking!"

The panicked voice of the man addressed as 'Guild Master' rang out, directed at the figure bowing his head before him.

Hyun Jong slowly lifted his head.

"Did you say Mount Hua has no shortcomings?"

"O-of course!"

Hyun Jong turned his head slightly, eyes fixed intently on something as he asked again:

"...... Does the Guild Master really think so?"

"......."

Where both their gazes landed was Chung Myung and the group of disciples who stole liquor last night, all bowing with their foreheads to the ground.

‘You've had a hard time.’

Chung Mun, who had been quietly standing in the background, subtly nodded in agreement with Hyun Jong’s earlier statement: ‘Mount Hua still has many shortcomings.’

What kind of Taoist sneaks into someone’s home in the dead of night to steal wine?

Who would do that, huh?

Suppressing a deep sigh, he stared blankly into space. Watching the group of criminals side-eyeing each other as if they still had no idea that they were being punished.

----🌸----

Half an hour earlier.

The conversation between Chung Myung and Chung Mun lasted until the break of dawn.

“So that’s everything that happened.”

The overwhelming amount of information left Chung Mun a little dazed, his emotions a swirl of joy, sorrow, and anger. Joy - because the next generation of Mount Hua hadn’t let him down. Sorrow - for what those children had to endure. And anger - toward those who had oppressed them and the Sect.

Rubbing at his aching temple, Chung Mun glanced at the person who had been staring at him for quite some time now. With a quiet sigh, he instinctively reached out and patted Chung Myung’s shoulder.

“What’s it? Still think this is a dream?”

“No…”

Realizing he was staring too much, Chung Myung quickly averted his gaze. Sitting with his knees drawn up on the grass, he watched the sun slowly rise on the horizon. For the first time since his rebirth, he could cast aside all worries and enjoy the scenery like an ordinary person.

“It’s just… I never thought I’d have another chance to talk with you like this, Sahyung.”

“Miraculous, isn’t it? We both came back to life after all.”

A faint smile appeared on Chung Myung’s lips—part relief, part something else hidden deeper beneath.

“Yeah…”

Chung Mun didn’t know what to say in response to that smile. Instead, he simply sat beside Chung Myung, who was quietly watching the sunrise. There was a strange sadness in the younger man’s eyes. Though he still wore a smile, it was clear to Chung Mun that his heart wasn’t at ease.

“Is there something you want to tell me?”

He wasn’t used to seeing Chung Myung looking so downcast, so in the end, Chung Mun broke the silence. The golden rays of the sun spread over Xi’an, gilding the bustling city with a dazzling sheen bright enough to make one squint. At his question, Chung Myung didn’t try to hide anything and answered calmly:

“There’s a lot I want to say to you, Sahyung.”

“And that is?”

“I can’t say it just yet. I need time to sort through my thoughts first.”

He pulled up a tuft of grass from beneath him and idly twisted it between his fingers, his gaze still fixed on the horizon.

“All right. Then I’ll wait.”

After that, the two fell into a comfortable silence, as if savoring a rare, peaceful morning. Listening to the sound of birds and breathing in the fresh scent of dew-covered grass on the mountainside. The awkwardness from before gradually melted away, replaced by a quiet calmness, as if nature itself was soothing his mind.

But truth be told, Chung Mun still preferred the scent of plum blossoms.

The scent of Mount Hua.

He couldn't wait for the day he would return to Mount Hua, to immerse once more in the intoxicating fragrance of plum blossoms and the warmth of being home.

While savoring the moment, he suddenly remembered something. Chung Mun sat upright and turned sharply to ask Chung Myung:

“So what do you plan to do about those kids?”

“Kids? I’ll keep training them, of course. I’ve worked really hard to raise those little chicks, you know, aigoo~.”

“No, no. I mean the ones who drank with you last night.”

“Huh?”

Chung Myung’s face went blank.

“Didn’t you lot steal wine and get completely drunk in some random house?”

“…”

“And then passed out right there, too.”

“…”

With every word from Chung Mun, Chung Myung’s neck seemed to shrink back a little more.

"If I remember correctly, Sect Leader Hyun Jong is still in Xi’an and hasn’t returned to Mount Hua yet, right?"

"Ah, well..."

Chung Myung looked up at the sky, his fingers laced together, index fingertips tapping in rhythm.

"I kinda... completely forgot."

He gave himself a light smack on the head and smiled innocently. Chung Mun looked at him with pure helplessness.

"Let’s return."

His voice came out like a sigh as he stood up on slightly unsteady legs. Chung Myung no longer wore that gloomy expression from earlier. He quickly and attentively reached out to support Chung Mun’s back and asked:

"Sect Leader Sahyung, are you feeling unwell?"

"I’m no longer the Sect Leader."

"…"

"And I’m feeling unwell because of you, all because of you."

Chung Mun gave him a firm smack on the shoulder. Chung Myung just stood still and let him do it—just like a hundred years ago.

"Ayy, you’re still the same old man, always blowing things out of proportion."

"Chung Myung."

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

"Yes sir."

The two of them quickly returned. As soon as they reached the door of the room from the night before, Chung Myung kicked it open and gave each person inside a swift kick to wake them up. Chung Mun stood at the doorway, watching the whole chaotic scene unfolding as the group scrambled to cover up their crimes. All he could do was holding back the pain from his bleeding heart.

‘Mount Hua is doomed.’

Among the chaos were even two disciples who would eventually become future Sect Leaders of Mount Hua—oh, Heavenly Primordial Lord!

The urging shout of Chung Myung, the panicked voice of Baek Cheon, the full-on scream of Tang Soso, the sound of Yoon Jong kicking Jo Geol’s butt when he said something unlucky, and the sound of Hye Yeon chanting “Amitabha”—all of it painted a picture of complete madness in this otherwise beautiful early morning.

Rustle.

Chung Mun turned around at the sound of approaching footsteps.

Hmmm.

If he remembered correctly, just earlier that curly-haired boy named Jo Geol had said something like: “What if the Sect Leader comes and finds us?”

Well, speak of the devil.

Hyun Jong stormed forward, fury radiating off him with each thunderous step. Following closely behind him was a crowd, in which there were both people from Mount Hua and from the merchant guild.

Being a perceptive person, Chung Mun immediately stepped aside and bowed slightly, as if to politely invite Hyun Jong in to "visit" his beloved disciples.

“A very good morning to you, Sect Leader!”

Chung Myung was the first to notice Hyun Jong's arrival. With a bright, innocent smile as if nothing had happened, he greeted him cheerfully. But before he could say another word, a shoe came flying straight at him.

“YOU’RE STILL ALIVE AND WELL, ARE YOU???”

“MEANWHILE I’M ABOUT TO DROP DEAD FROM ANGER THANKS TO YOU LOT!”

----🌸----

And so, we return to the scene from the very beginning.

Chapter Text

The Five Swords were exchanging glances as sharp as daggers with one another as Hyun Jong’s voice erupted in full fury:

“The crisis hasn’t even been resolved yet. And what? Alcohol? Alcohoool?! You sneaked liquor from someone’s warehouse and drank it?! Are you still a Taoists even after all that? Are you now!”

Right at that moment, Chung Myung, still bowing low with his forehead to the floor, raised a hand.

“…What now?”

“Right… hehe. It’s true that we were wrong. But if you consider the close relationship between us and Eunha Merchant Guild, then we’re not exactly strangers…”

‘I swear, I want to beat him senseless…’

Chung Mun, who had been silently observing from the sidelines, glared at Chung Myung so hard that it could’ve set his face on fire.

Seeing Hyun Jong absolutely fuming, his eyes bulged with fury as if he was ready to charge forward and beat them all to a pulp, the two Elders rushed to restrain him, frantically pleading for him to calm down.

Watching this, Chung Mun couldn’t help but see his past self reflected in Hyun Jong. Just how many times had his own stomach suffered thanks to that same brat?

If he hadn’t been granted rebirth into a new body, Chung Mun was sure that, while watching this scene from the Heaven, he’d have immediately sent a bolt of divine lightning straight down onto the shameless Taoist scoundrel named Chung Myung.

‘You’ve really been through so much, Hyun Jong.’

He silently wept a tear in his heart.

Look at that, his poor, pitiful Hyun Jong was now insisting on returning to the Sect.

Just like many years ago, when Chung Myung had stirred up so much trouble at Hua-Um that Chung Mun was too embarrassed to even set foot down there for ages afterward...

“I’m so humiliated that I can’t even stay here for another minute! Pack your things! We’re leaving at once! Hurry!”

‘I understand. I truly do…’

He thought if he ever had the chance to befriend this child as the Great Virtuous Sword Chung Mun, the two of them would surely get along well. They could sip tea and admire the scenery together while lamenting the unfairness of life—wondering how, at their age, they still had to endure the disgrace caused by a certain brat's antics...

Chung Mun glanced at the Five Swords kneeling on the ground, then fell into contemplative silence.

‘No, I only had to deal with one troublemaker. But Hyun Jong has to deal with an entire bunch.’

And among that bunch were none other than the two Great Sahyungs of both the Baek disciples and Chung disciples...

Oh, my Hyun Jong, my Mount Hua, Oh, Boundless Heavenly Lord...

Chung Myung, you wretched little thing!

This old heart feels like it's shattered into a hundred pieces.

Hwang Jong-gi and the rest of the Eunha Merchant Guild could only scratch their heads awkwardly and take their leave, hoping to lessen Hyun Jong’s embarrassment.

Now, only Chung Mun and the disciples of Mount Hua remained in the room.

“Pack up your things so that we can head back immediately! What are you standing around for?!”

“Wait!”

Just as the disciples were about to scramble off and gather their belongings, Chung Myung called out again.

“What is it now, you little rascal?!”

“Sect Leader, I know this may be a bit abrupt, but I have a request to make…”

“If you wanted to ask for a favor, then maybe you should’ve thought about that first before causing trouble! I have no desire to grant you anything right now!”

Hyun Jong was so furious his face had turned bright red. He looked like he wanted to throw a shoe, except that both of his had already been launched earlier.

Chung Myung scratched the back of his neck and pouted. He hadn’t expected things to go this way. It wasn’t entirely his fault... probably.

Dusting off his robes, he stood up and walked over to Chung Mun under the watchful eyes of everyone present.

“Sect Leader, please accept this person into our Sect.”

“…Huh?”

Everyone in the room exhaled a collective, stunned ‘Huh?’. Chung Mun offered an awkward smile and clasped his hands respectfully:

“I am very honored to meet the Sect Leader and his disciples.”

“HUHHHHHHHH?”

That morning at Eunha Merchant Guild was far more chaotic than usual.

----🌸----

“Chung Myung, do you even know what you're saying?”

Baek Cheon had jumped up to his feet at some point, glancing back and forth between the Sect Leader and Chung Mun.

“It's not that I’m trying to interfere with the Sect’s decision to accept disciples. But Mount Hua had just ended its Bongmun period less than three days ago. Doesn’t this seem very strange?”

The people around him nodded in agreement. When it came to Chung Myung, things were never simple. Just thinking about it gave everyone a headache.

“Baek Cheon has a point, Chung Myung. What exactly does this mean?”

Asked Hyun Sang, unable to hold back any longer.

“Accepting a new disciple at a time like this isn’t ideal. Do you have a specific reason?”

Chung Mun was about to open his mouth, but Chung Myung tugged on his sleeve gently, murmuring, ‘Let me say first’ before stepping forward.

“That’s why I called it a request. I know this isn’t the right time to bring in a new disciple. But this hyung absolutely must join Mount Hua, and I guarantee that he will be able to keep up with everyone.”

“Hyung?” Jo Geol tilted his head.

“He’s your senior?”

Chung Myung didn’t answer directly, he simply glanced toward Chung Mun. Taking the cue, Chung Mun stepped forward and introduced himself:

“My name is Chung Mun. Please, allow me to become a disciple of Mount Hua Sect.”

The moment that name was spoken, a flicker of recognition passed through the minds of all the Mount Hua disciples. Chung Mun - the name of the legendary 13th-generation Sect Leader of their Sect, the Great Virtuous Sword, Chung Mun.

Surely… it was just a coincidence, right?

“Chung Mun, was it? Why do you want to join Mount Hua?”

Hyun Jong spoke, finally composed again. He slowly stroked the beard at his chin, his eyes observing every detail of the young man before him. 

Mount Hua was no longer the sect it once was, and the Martial World had grown increasingly turbulent. So as the Sect Leader, Hyun Jong could not afford to make careless decisions.

“It may sound a bit presumptuous, but one of my ancestors was once accepted as a disciple by a Mount Hua Elder…”

“So you’re saying you’re a descendant of those who left when Mount Hua declined?”

The sharpness in Hyun Jong’s gaze intensified. The atmosphere around them grew visibly cooler. It was clear that many were already forming judgments that he was just another opportunist hoping to cling to the Sect’s rising reputation.

“That’s not it, Sect Leader." Chung Mun calmly replied. "During the war against the Demonic Cult, there was a Mount Hua Elder who fell from a cliff after sustaining serious injuries. He was rescued by a woodcutter. But due to the severity of his wounds, he remained bedridden for a long time.”

“To repay his kindness, that Elder had passed down Mount Hua Sword Techniques and accepted the woodcutter as a disciple. I am a descendant of that woodcutter. Which is why I now seek to formally join Mount Hua.”

“…”

The room fell completely silent.

Only Chung Myung was nodding with an air of smug satisfaction, clearly proud of himself.

‘What a magnificent story! Only a true genius could think of such a story!’

And who else could that genius be, if not Chung Myung himself? Hohohoh.

Not only did the tale make entering the Sect smoother, but it even gave Chung Mun a special status within the Sect. Chung Myung had stitched that story together long ago, but he didn’t have the opportunity to use it. Finally, his Sahyung had made it worthwhile.

“So, what should we call you, then…”

Theoretically, wasn’t Chung Mun now equal to the Elders?

What kind of honorific was even appropriate in this situation?

“Now that I’ve just officially entered the sect, please treat me as any ordinary disciple.”

“But if anyone among you Sahyungs and Sasuks gets too casual, I’ll beat the living daylights out of them!”

Chung Myung suddenly popped his head out from behind Chung Mun, raising a fist in warning—only to get his head shoved back by him and had to stand up straight again.

“Uhm… May I ask what your relationship with Chung Myung is?"

Yoon Jong raised the question with mild curiosity, Yoo Iseol beside him also nodded in agreement.

Since Chung Myung was the one who vouched for Chung Mun’s entry into Mount Hua, it was clear the two knew each other. And also, he called Chung Mun ‘Hyung’.

“Ah, about that. Chung Myung was a baby my father found in the forest. But due to certain… unfortunate events, we got separated.”

“Did he get lost riding a tiger through the woods or something?” Jo Geol raised his hand and asked.

Before Chung Myung could land a knee to Jo Geol’s mouth, Yoon Jong had already slapped him sharply on the back of the head.

“Please, continue.”

“…”

What a clean and ruthless strike.

Even in Chung Mun’s old days, he didn’t hit Chung Myung like that…

“I had planned to join Mount Hua before, but my father was old and frail, so I had to stay behind to care for him on a mountain far from Shaanxi. Now that he’s passed away, I’ve come here to fulfill that long-standing wish.”

Standing beside him, Chung Myung looked up with his sparkling eyes.

As expected of his Sahyung! That silver tongue—so slick that it’s like he’d dipped it in oil once he started bragging!

"By chance, I ran into Chung Myung, we two brothers had just reunited last night."

Tang Soso raised a finger, wanting to ask what time exactly last night, since they had been drinking with Chung Myung until very late. But she slowly lowered her hand, afraid that Hyun Jong might scold her again. 

"So that's why it's understandable that Chung Myung knows about Mount Hua and can use its Sword Techniques..."

"That's right."

"I’m just wondering why did your father name you ‘Chung Mun’, but that rascal ended up being called ‘Cho Sam’…?"

Baek Cheon mumbled the question under his breath, but with Chung Myung and Chung Mun’s sharp hearing, they both caught it clearly.

"Oh ho, what’s this that our dear Dong-ryong just said?"

Chung Myung picked his ear with his pinky finger, smiling in a way that clearly spelled trouble.

Meanwhile, Chung Mun only tilted his head in confusion.

"Cho Sam? Who’s Cho Sam?"

"..."

Everyone's eyes turned simultaneously toward Chung Myung.

"...Is it you?"

Chung Myung’s face went pale, then flushed red. He wanted to deny it, but couldn’t figure out how to refute it.

"Pfft—About this name ‘Cho Sam’... I have no idea. He must’ve come up with it himself while wandering around on the streets. After all, when we got separated, Chung Myung was still just a small child. He probably... didn’t remember his own name."

Chung Mun’s voice trembled from trying to hold in his laughter. Chung Myung wished he could dig a hole and crawl right into it. How nice huh, his Sahyung was really quick on his feet, completely washing his hands of the whole thing.

Damn this old man!

"Oh wow, our little Cho Sam is quite the creative one when it comes to names."

The wounded always want to wound others. Jin Dong-ryong never missed a chance to poke fun at Chung Myung. In return, Chung Myung, red with embarrassment, lost his temper and lunged at Baek Cheon, teeth baring.

"AHHH! SECT LEADER! CHUNG MYUNG IS BITING PEOPLE AGAIN!!!"

"OH MY GOD, WE'RE UNDER ATTACK BY A WILD DOG!!!"

"YOU GUYS WANNA DIE, HUHHH??"

"STOP RIGHT THERE, YOU BRATS!!!"

The room burst into chaos with shouting and shrieking. Amid the racket, Chung Mun glanced at Hyun Jong, who was covering his face in despair. With a blank expression, he softly muttered:

"So... can I be accepted into the Sect now?"

Chapter Text

"But when Chung Myung first arrived, he introduced himself as 'Chung Myung', didn’t he? If he’d made up the name 'Cho Sam', wouldn’t he have used that name instead?"

Amid the chaos, Jo Geol’s voice was small, but somehow, everyone seemed to hear it. In an instant, all the noise came to a halt.

"Oh yeah, that’s true..."

Yoon Jong suddenly looked as if he’d recalled something. 

"When Chung Myung first climbed up to Mount Hua, he introduced himself as 'Chung Myung', did he not, Sect Leader?"

"Yes, that’s right..."

Chung Mun turned to glance at Chung Myung, who was still gripping Baek Cheon by the collar. Chung Myung returned the glance with a look that seemed to say: ‘Whatever you’re about to say, I have nothing to do with it.’

His brain, which has aged by more than ninety springs, was now pushed to its absolute limit. Earlier, he'd been so busy laughing at the name ‘Cho Sam’ that his mouth got ahead of his brain. Now he had to figure out how to put out this fire... somehow.

"Could it be that he thought 'Cho Sam' sounded too stupid, so he changed it himself?"

"But how could he just happen to change it to the exact same name he was given in the past?"

"Maybe while thinking about it, the name just came back to him."

"Come on, if he could really remember by himself, he wouldn’t have named himself ‘Cho Sam’ in the first place. Unless someone helped him remember."

The disciples began to buzz with speculation. Chung Mun’s ears twitched slightly at the phrase ‘helped him remember’.

‘Helped him remember... in other words, a trigger that made him recall…’

A trigger—yes, whether psychological or physical, it was still a trigger.

Chung Mun’s eyes lit up as if struck by a brilliant inspiration. He smiled gently at Chung Myung, who suddenly felt a chill crawl down his spine.

"Ah, I’ve heard that when a person receives a blow to the head, it can jog their memory. Maybe before coming to Mount Hua, this rascal tripped and hit his head somewhere and suddenly remembered?"

In that instant, the Five Swords all thought of the beggar named Jong Pal.

The one who had smashed Chung Myung’s head so hard that it left him traumatized.

Chung Myung stared wide-eyed at Chung Mun, who was smiling innocently as if nothing had happened. He couldn’t believe it. With just one sentence, this seemingly gentle Taoist Sahyung had successfully tossed the scorching coal of suspicion from his own hands into Chung Myung’s.

‘I never should’ve told you about that brat Jong Pal!!!’

‘Oh well, I had no other choice. Seems like there's only one path left for you.’

‘How can you say that with a straight face???’

‘How was I supposed to know that you had another name and introduced yourself as 'Chung Myung' when you joined the Sect?’

‘Because my name is 'Chung Myung'!?’

‘It's up to you. I've left you with a way out—now it's your call whether to take it or not.’

‘Aaaaah you mean old man!’

The two of them exchanged a rapid flurry of glances, the atmosphere suddenly turned weird. Their pupils darted back and forth, seemingly communicating with each other without words. And then out of nowhere, Chung Myung leaned his head back and clutched his nape while Chung Mun merely shrugged.

What a bizarre pair of brothers.

Baek Cheon thought about it and realized it did sort of make sense. They’d heard that Jong Pal had once repeatedly struck Chung Myung on the head. If he got hit enough to stimulate his brain, and then happened to hear a sound similar to his old name, it wouldn't be that strange for his memory to return.

“Is it true that you only remembered your real name because you got hit on the head, Chung Myung?”

Everyone turned to look at Chung Myung, who now stood alone in the center of the room, he suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to cry.

If he admitted it, it’d be humiliating. But if he denied it, he’d have no explanation left.

He was heartbroken… heartbroken because it was his very own Sahyung who had pushed him into such an impossible situation.

And that old man was now grinning ear to ear like he hadn’t just done anything wrong to his own junior brother.

‘Yeah, go ahead and smile, smile until your damn mouth falls off.’

‘Oh, I am smiling. I’m smiling very brightly right now.’

“Grrrrrr.”

Chung Myung clenched his teeth and growled like a wild dog about to bite people. He wanted to beat someone up—anyone—because he couldn’t hit Chung Mun, so he had to find another outlet for his simmering rage.

“Aww, don’t be so shy, Cho Sam. You were just a weak little thing back then.”

Jo Geol beamed as he teased Chung Myung. Having lived a life constantly oppressed by verbal violence, now was his rare chance to fire back—and he was going to make it count.

Unfortunately… he might have gone too far.

“I’M GONNA KILL YOU ALL!!!”

Chung Myung charged at Jo Geol, setting off yet another round of chaos in the grand hall of Eunha Merchant Guild.

Seeing the chaotic scene, Chung Mun could only sigh in exasperation. He turned and walked toward Hyun Jong, who was sitting gloomily while the two Elders patted his shoulders in consolation. Chung Mun gently spoke up:

"Sect Leader, have you made your decision? Can I officially join the Sect?"

Upon hearing the question, Hyun Jong straightened up at once. He looked Chung Mun up and down, then finally gave a warm smile:

"I have no reason to refuse you. From this moment on, Mount Hua will be your home. Let us all support one another."

"Yes, Sect Leader."

Chung Mun smiled radiantly. He cupped his fists in salute and bowed once again in gratitude. At last, he was going home, to his Mount Hua.

In the midst of his happiness, a hand suddenly rested on his shoulder.

"Also, it seems to me that Chung Myung respects you very much. So if possible, I hope you might rein him in a little… even just a little bit..."

Hyun Sang's hand was on Chung Mun’s shoulder, but his eyes were fixed on a certain someone who was currently using the scabbard of his sword to whack his senior brother repeatedly on the head.

"Understood..."

It looks like… his Sajae had fully fit into this era already?

Or maybe he had always been this childish by nature.

“Chung Myung-ah, stop it. That’s your senior brother.”

‘In your current identity’, Chung Mun swallowed down the second half of his sentence.

Chung Myung looked from Chung Mun to the group of people he'd just beaten to a pulp. He snorted, then finally let Jo Geol go, quietly getting up and walking over to Chung Mun.

"That bunch was clearly insulting their ancestors..."

He muttered to Chung Mun.

"You’re currently just a junior disciple in the Sect, you know." the latter replied.

Chung Myung scoffed. The other disciples looked on in confusion as he obediently stood beside Chung Mun.

Was that… it?

He let them off with just one sentence?

“What are you staring at?! My arms are just tired, that’s all. You want me to keep going?”

But no one paid his threat any attention. They all stared at Chung Mun with wide-eyed admiration.

‘Sir!!!’

Anyone who could tame the mad dog that was Chung Myung with just one sentence—regardless of seniority—deserved to be called 'Sir'. 

It should be noted that Baek Cheon was his Sasuk, he was also the Great Disciple of the Baek diciples, the one who will become the future Sect Leader. Yet Chung Myung still argued with him without a care. But when it came to Chung Mun, his long-lost older brother, he didn’t talk back at all and just followed his words obediently.

This kind of power was simply unreal!

Growing impatient, Hyun Young clapped his hands to draw everyone’s attention and raised his voice:

“All right, you lot. Pack up your things and get ready to return. Chung Mun, we’ve neglected Mount Hua for a while now, so it might be a little rundown.”

Because of Chung Mun’s (supposed) identity, Hyun Young also spoke to him more gently than usual. The disciples quickly moved to gather their belongings in preparation for departure. No one said anything out loud, but their eager eyes and hurried actions showed just how much they had been longing for Mount Hua.

Time to go home—to Mount Hua.

A place one leaves only to return to. A place one is destined to come back to.

A place filled with the fragrance of blooming flowers, guiding the souls back to their home.

Chapter Text

Inside the Eunha Merchant Guild, it had now become a sea of people.

When words spread that the Mount Hua Sect was preparing to return to their mountain, the sects throughout Xi’an all flocked over to see them off.

“What a grand sight.”

From the upper floor of the inn, Chung Mun looked down at the crowd. He didn’t bring much luggage, so it didn’t take him long to pack. Mainly, he came back to pick up So Myung.

Just as he led So Myung out the front door, Chung Myung suddenly poked his head down from the roof:

“What’s with that fat dog, Sahyung?”

“…Can you appear like a normal person for once?” Chung Mun asked helplessly.

Grinning, Chung Myung landed lightly on the ground. Perched around his neck, Baek-ah also raised its head, staring intently at the pair of human and dog before it.

It was clever enough to realize that this person was very important, so it decided to win him over.

The pure white furball hopped down in front of Chung Mun and looked up at him, clearly begging to be held, its demeanor utterly adorable.

Of course, the kind-hearted Taoist who cherished both people and animals had no reason to refuse. He gently lifted it in both arms, stroking its round little head:

"How cute. Chung Myung, I didn’t expect you to raise a pet. What’s its name?"

"It’s called Baek-ah. It’s a spiritual beast that insisted on following me after I visited the Beast Palace. It’s not like I wanted to keep it."

Chung Mun nodded in understanding, then glanced at the black robe embroidered with a plum blossom symbol on Baek-ah’s small frame. Although he was usually very easygoing, dressing a weasel in martial robes felt a bit...

"I'm not criticizing or anything, but this little guy is also considered a disciple of Mount Hua?"

"Haizz, that’s all Soso’s doing. While I wasn’t paying attention, that girl sewed a sect uniform for it and dressed it up without asking."

Chung Myung scratched his head in irritation. The more he thought about it, the more annoyed he got. The sacred martial robes of Mount Hua, worn by something that wasn't even human. If the ancestors of Mount Hua saw this, they’d probably rise from their graves in fury.

Even though technically, he could be considered one of those ancestors.

"Since it’s already dressed like that, it might as well do some work as a mouth to feed in Mount Hua. Don’t worry, Sahyung. Though it looks useless, it’s surprisingly capable."

A surprised “oh” escaped from Chung Mun. His finger had been scratching Baek-ah’s chin. No matter how you looked at it, the little creature purring contentedly in his arms didn’t seem like the fighting type at all.

"Right, earlier you asked about this fellow, didn’t you? This is So Myung, the pet of the original owner of this body. I couldn’t bear to leave him behind, so I brought him along."

As if knowing he was being talked about, So Myung let out a bark and trotted over to Chung Myung in greeting. He crouched down and gave the dog a few pats on the head.

"This mutt's pretty clever, huh? Back when the Heavenly Comrade Alliance was founded, the Beast Palace Lord had handed over a whole pack of stray dogs to Mount Hua. Taking in one more mouth to feed isn’t a big deal..."

“Kiii!!!”

Still cradled in Chung Mun’s arms, Baek-ah stomped its little paws in protest. It was clearly jealous because its wretched master was being so gentle with that fat mutt, while it always got the rough end of the stick.

Obvious favoritism. Unacceptable!

That dog was getting special treatment just because of its connections. Unacceptable!

Chung Mun blinked in confusion. He glanced over at Chung Myung, who was still petting the dog, entirely ignoring Baek-ah’s puffed-up fur. Left with no choice, he gently reminded:

“Chung Myung, I think it’s trying to tell you something.”

“Let it squeak. If it keeps whining, I’ll turn it into a hand towel.”

Whether it was an illusion or not, Chung Mun was fairly certain the fluffball in his arms visibly trembled… then slowly drooped like it was about to cry.

‘Poor little creature’, he thought sympathetically.

At that moment.

"They’re here!"

"Mount Hua's here!"

Someone shouted from the crowd. The disciples of Mount Hua were leisurely walking out from the main gate of the Eunha Merchant Guild. In an instant, the large crowd swarmed around them, greeting them with warm excitement.

“Just like the Mount Hua of old, isn’t it?”

Watching the scene, Chung Mun couldn’t help but smile.

Chung Myung said nothing. He didn’t know what to reply, really. He just let out a vague grunt of agreement. Though he knew a full century had passed, and even if the current Mount Hua shared echoes of its past self, the comparison still left a faint pang in his chest.

Especially when the one saying it was Chung Mun.

“What’s gotten into this brat?”

Noticing the shift in Chung Myung’s mood, Chung Mun walked over and ruffled his hair, leaving it a complete mess. Baek-ah, who had climbed up and draped itself over Chung Mun’s shoulders, now watching with wide eyes as Chung Myung flailed and yelled for him to stop. 

“Then please allow us to take our leave. Mount Hua would truly love to spend more time conversing with you all, but we have neglected our Sect for far too long.”

Hearing Hyun Jong’s farewell, the two of them quickly gathered their things and ran toward the Mount Hua group. The townsfolk parted to clear a path for them, making it easy to rejoin. Though many curious eyes followed him, Chung Mun paid them little mind.

“Dojang!”

Suddenly, someone called out. Chung Mun turned at the sound.

Wei Sohaeng came rushing over from behind. However, Chung Myung didn’t so much as glance back, he simply kept walking forward.

“Chung Myung?” Chung Mun looked at him, confused.

“Chung Myung Dojang?”

Still, Chung Myung wouldn’t look at Wei Sohaeng, his eyes fixed straight ahead.

Seeing this, Wei Sohaeng called out again, this time with a pained voice.

“...Did I do something wrong?”

“…”

“It’s... it’s been days already.”

At that moment, Hyun Jong turned back and looked behind him. Chung Myung flinched slightly.

“Isn’t the Young Gate Leader talking to you? Don’t ignore him and answer.”

“Is that really okay?”

“…Uhm.”

Hyun Jong turned away again, clearly unwilling to say more. Beside him, Chung Mun also gave a small nod. Only then did Chung Myung finally smile and turn to face Wei Sohaeng.

“What is it?”

“Dojang! Do you mind if I come to Mount Hua when you have time?”

“That’s not a problem, but… well, I’m not really sure. We don’t even know how long we’ll be staying at Mount Hua.”

“Yes?”

“From now on, things are only going to get busier.”

Chung Myung smirked.

“We’ve trained so hard. It’s time we actually get out there and fight. Otherwise, it’d all feel pointless.”

Seeing the confidence on Chung Myung’s face, Wei Sohaeng quickly nodded.

“Yes, Dojang. Then I won’t disturb you any further.”

“I never said you were a bother.”

Chung Myung reached out and ruffled Wei Sohaeng’s hair.

“The secular Sect is also part of Mount Hua.”

“…”

“Mount Hua has worked endlessly to grow stronger, so Huayoung Gate must do the same. Once we return to Mount Hua, I’ll set up a plan to help Huayoung Gate advance its training as soon as possible.”

“Then is there anything I can do to help you, Dojang?”

“You’re already doing great.”

Chung Myung smiled and spoke warmly to Wei Sohaeng.

“Compared to the senior brothers behind me, you’ve matured a lot more.”

“That rotten brat?”

“Hey. I won’t deny that the Young Gate Leader is more mature, but don’t you think that was a bit harsh?”

Despite the complaints rising behind him, Chung Myung ignored them all and continued speaking to Wei Sohaeng.

“A great war is approaching, and even Huayoung Gate won’t be able to avoid it. Only with enough strength can you protect yourself when the time comes. So don’t slack off in your trainning, got it?”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good.”

Chung Myung gave him a light pat on the shoulder and smiled.

“Send my regards to Gate Leader Wei for me.”

“Yes, of course.”

Standing to the side, Chung Mun overheard the grumbling complaints from the disciples behind them. He could only guess that this brat must be very strict with them on a daily basis.

As soon as Wei Sohaeng returned to his place, the disciples of Huayoung Gate quickly formed a line around him.

“We wish the Great Mount Hua Sect a safe journey!”

All of them bowed respectfully with clasped fists to bid farewell to Mount Hua. Seeing this, the other sects also lined up neatly to show their reverence toward Mount Hua.

Witnessing the scene, Hyun Jong smiled and returned the salute with clasped fists.

“May peace remain with all of you.”

----🌸----

The disciples of Mount Hua had barely left the city gates amidst the warm send-off of the citizens when they all let out deep, weary sighs. Their faces were full of exhaustion.

“… I’m completely drained.”

“Why were there so many people?”

Whenever someone looked their way, they had to maintain the demeanor of composed and dignified sword cultivators. But now that there were no more onlookers, their shoulders drooped instantly.

“My shoulders feel like they’re about to fall off.”

“I had to keep my eyes wide open for so long that they’re now sore and dry.”

“So what? You were enjoying it just as much as the rest of us.”

Though their mouths kept complaining about the fatigue, none of the complaints was from annoyance. On the contrary, their hearts were so full of joy that the smiles refused to fade from their faces.

“Sahyungs, Sasuks, from today onward I officially join Mount Hua. I hope we can support one another!”

Only now did Chung Mun speak up to greet everyone, and they responded warmly:

“Welcome, welcome! Anyone who's a brother of Chung Myung is also a brother of ours.”

“No need to be so formal, we’re all family here.”

“Thank goodness we’ve got someone to share the beatings now.”

Laughter broke out all around.

Chung Mun gave a wry smile. Who said anything about beatings?

He turned to look at Chung Myung, already suspecting the reason. Startled, Chung Myung leaned in and whispered:

“Don’t worry, I’d never dare to hit you. And you’ve never done anything that would make me want to, either.”

“…I hope that’s true.”

Chung Myung quickly covered his mouth and coughed. Of course, he wasn’t foolish enough to show blatant favoritism toward Chung Mun. Besides, his Sahyung was already familiar with every Martial Arts of Mount Hua—the only thing left was physical training. He had full confidence in Chung Mun’s hard-working nature, so there wasn’t much to worry about.

In short, any different treatment was strictly based on the matter of skills. No favoritism. He swore.

“The training will be quite intense, but I’ll do everything I can to help you.”

“Thank you.”

Chung Mun was genuinely curious to see what it would be like if Chung Myung truly committed himself to training his fellow disciples.

“Do you all want to rest for a bit?” 

Hyun Jong gently asked the disciples.

“There’s no need!”

“We should hurry, Sect Leader!”

“We’ve already taken too much time. We must arrive before sunset!”

The disciples of Mount Hua firmly declined, as if the idea of resting had never even occurred to them.

They were united in one thought.

Though their bodies hadn’t fully recovered after the long period of training, and the journey ahead was no easy feat. But it seemed as though every one of them just wanted to head straight to Mount Hua without stopping.

Their eyes all turned toward the East—

Where the five barren peaks rising in the distance.

Back to Mount Hua, the place they had left behind.

“Then let’s continue!”

“Yes!”

The disciples of Mount Hua surged forward at full speed.

Carrying with them the longing, the excitement rising deep in their hearts.

Chapter Text

They had finally arrived at the foot of Mount Hua.

As they gazed at the steep stone steps and the towering, rugged peaks, each disciple was filled with a different emotion.

They had returned.

Mount Hua.

The home they had yearned for all this time.

Many disciples were eager to rush up the stairs and climb the bolders to return to the Sect they had left behind for so long. But the Elders still stood still, so they turned back to see what was going on.

“Chung Mun, do you have a dantian yet?”

Even in his own deep longing for Mount Hua, Hyun Jong had not forgotten to check on this newest disciple. He was worried the treacherous slope might be too much for him.

“There's no need to worry, Sect Leader,” Chung Mun said with a smile, waving his hand. “I do have a dantian. Though my stamina is still a bit lacking, I’m strong enough to make the climb.”

Perhaps Hyun Jong had mistaken the blank expression on his face for shock at the mountain’s steepness. But in truth, Chung Mun had only been pausing to take it all in—the path that leads to home.

A hundred years had passed.

This path he was now walking was one that many of his fellow disciples never got the chance to walk ever again.

Through the changing years, this road remained the same—It was just the people that are gone.

“I see…”

“You’ve all been away from Mount Hua for too long, haven't you? Please, go on ahead. I’ll follow after.” 

Chung Mun wanted to walk this road slowly, on behalf of those who no longer could—to commit to memory every blade of grass, every branch, every layer of stone and soil that had weathered the years, even the fresh air blowing past. 

He wanted to experience, as fully as possible, the road back home.

This was no moment to rush—this was a sacred return.

“We truly do miss Mount Hua dearly and wish to return quickly. If you'd like, I can ask one of the disciples to carry you up the mountain. Your Sahyungs and Sasuks are all very strong, you know.”

As if to prove Hyun Jong's words, one of the disciples proudly flexed his muscular arm, flashing a sparkling smile. The others around him followed suit, each showing off their massive biceps with great pride.

'Just like mountain bandits…'

The emotional wave that had been rising in Chung Mun’s chest was suddenly crushed beneath a pile of muscle.

Back in the day, the Plum Blossom Swordsmen had been tall and imposing too, but they had always carried the dignified aura of Taoist cultivators. These men before him, however, were more like wild boars than monks.

Chung Mun subtly glanced at Chung Myung. The latter flinched and shrugged, as if to say, 'I didn’t do anything.' But his guilty sideways glance betrayed him immediately.

Back when he had been the Great Virtuous Sword, Chung Mun had shaken his head in exasperation more times than he could count over how un -Taoist his Sajae had been. His lifelong wish had been for that scoundrel to at least look like a proper Taoist once in a while.

And now, standing here, he was surrounded by an entire squad of mini replicas of that same Plum Blossom Sword Saint.

'Oh, ancestors in heaven…' 

Thank goodness the three Hyun Diciples and the two Un Diciples hadn’t turned out like this.

If they had, Chung Mun might’ve really died from heartbreak.

"Thank you for everyone's kindness. But I wish to walk this path myself. I don’t want to be a burden, so please, don’t worry about me and go on ahead."

“You silly child. What burden are you talking about? Don’t think of yourself that way. Once you become a disciple of Mount Hua, this place will always protect and cherish you like family. But if this is truly your wish, then I won’t stop you.”

“Yes, Sect Leader. I’m deeply grateful!” 

There, that’s the spirit—a true Sect Leader indeed!

'Aw, what a sweet child.'

Chung Mun had taken a particular liking to Hyun Jong. He had a feeling they’d get along very well. It would be delightful if they had the time to sit down and have a nice chat.

“Don’t worry, Sect Leader. I’ll go with him. Everyone can head up to Mount Hua first.” 

Chung Myung said, stepping to Chung Mun’s side. He understood exactly what his Sahyung wanted, and coincidentally, today he also felt like slowing down a bit to walk alongside him.

“If Chung Myung says so, then it’s settled. Chung Mun, is that alright with you?”

“Yes, absolutely. With Chung Myung here, there’s no need to worry about me.”

“Then we’ll head up first. We’ll see you on Mount Hua.”

Chung Mun and Chung Myung bowed respectfully to Hyun Jong. It didn’t take long before the group of disciples disappeared from view—after all, they had missed Mount Hua dearly. The moment Hyun Jong turned around, they charged up the mountain like a flood breaking free.

Now, only two people and two beasts remained at the foot of the mountain.

Chung Mun stood silently for a while, Chung Myung didn’t speak either—he simply stood behind his Sahyung, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“I’ve always longed for Mount Hua."

Chung Mun's light voice seemed to blend into the wind, carrying with it the stirrings of memory. The jagged cliffs and steep peaks ahead were harsh, yet to Chung Mun, this was the gentlest path of all—a path that those who were gone forever would still yearn to walk, even just once more. It was the path home.

“You and I have returned to Mount Hua… but they could not.”

“…”

“That’s why I must become their eyes, their feet… to return home on their behalf.”

“…”

Chung Myung still said nothing, but his footsteps quietly followed Chung Mun’s, who had begun moving toward the stone steps that led up the mountain. He placed his foot on the first step, drew in a long breath, and smiled:

“Let’s go, Chung Myung.”

“Yes, Sahyung.”

The rocky path today felt inexplicably warm and welcoming.

----🌸----

The narrow and precarious stone path twisted along the mountain’s edge. Chung Mun carefully led So Myung along behind him. Scarlet plum branches stretched outward, as if welcoming back an old soul long absent. Their fragrance filled the air, guiding the two home to their beloved Mount Hua.

“I was always taught to cherish the simple things around me…”

Chung Mun walked slowly beneath the canopy of green, reaching out as he drew a deep breath, as though he wanted his chest to overflow with the mountain’s pure air.

“And that lesson was absolutely right.”

They came upon a narrow ledge, just wide enough for a single foot to step on. Chung Myung stepped forward and carried So Myung on his back, as the chubby dog was in no shape to handle such a path on his own. So Myung obediently stay still and gave his face a grateful lick. Chung Mun chuckled at the sight and softly murmured his thanks, then followed quietly behind.

At first glance, this road didn’t seem meant for humans. But to the disciples of Mount Hua, this was the path that welcomed them home.

Home—home was Mount Hua. Mount Hua was home.

And Mount Hua was simply… Mount Hua.

Chung Mun felt he could walk this path a thousand times over and never tire of it. Even if his legs failed him, even if his body was to be torn apart, as long as he still drew breath—he would climb this arduous trail again and again.

Because he knew: at the end of this road was Mount Hua.

Across from them loomed massive cliffs—desolate, yet achingly beautiful.

Chung Mun’s mind drifted back to the faces of the past. It all felt like yesterday: those familiar figures returning to the gentle embrace of the Sect after harsh journeys through the realm, their laughter, their chatter, even their grumbling about these murderous cliffs. Everything returned so vividly, as if conjured by a dream. A sudden sting welled in his nose, and without realizing it, he reached out to gently touch the rocky wall, full of affection.

“I…”

Chung Myung’s voice suddenly came from ahead.

“There are times when I think… if only, that day, we could have walked this path again together—it would’ve been wonderful.”

Chung Mun’s eyes widened. Words like that were rare from someone like Chung Myung. So he stayed silent, waiting. 

“Everyone, including Sect Leader Sahyung—died there. One after another. In the end, I couldn’t survive either… but I was the one who had to watch you all died.”

“Even when I was reborn in the body of a child, I had walked this road alone. At first, I didn’t care about how that felt, but…”

A flash of sunset, and a skeleton carefully wrapped in a robe, flickered through Chung Myung’s mind. His gaze dimmed. He wasn’t sure why these words were spilling out now, but he knew Chung Mun would understand.

“There was a moment when I realized… I truly wanted to come back with everyone. To walk this road together. Not just me. Not just with the children of this new era. But all of us—together again.”

He paused for a moment, then turned back to look at Chung Mun—still stunned—and smiled gently:

“Sahyung, thank you. For walking this road with me once again.”

Thank you… for coming back to me.

Chung Mun couldn’t speak.

Everyone matures eventually—and Chung Myung had matured in the harshest way imaginable.

He pitied him. And he mourned for their martial siblings who had fallen on that battlefield far, far away.

“What are you saying, you little brat…”

“If anyone should be grateful, it’s me. Thank you for walking this road with me.”

Thank you for not letting me be alone.

It should have ended there, but Chung Myung remained standing in place. Seeing him so still, Chung Mun asked:

“What is it now?”

“…Sahyung.”

“Hm?”

“Welcome home.”

Simple words, yet carrying immense weight.

Welcome home.

Welcome back, wandering soul, after more than a hundred years away from Mount Hua.

Welcome home, you fortunate spirit who finally found your way back to where you belong.

"Yeah, I’m home."

The lost soul had finally returned.

The two looked at each other then burst into laughter. They picked up their pace, leaping over rocky and jagged terrain—but smiles never left their faces.

“Suddenly got all emotional, I really am getting old.”

“Weren’t you the one who started it?”

“Let’s just pretend I didn’t say anything, haha.”

Before long, they arrived. Chung Mun and Chung Myung hadn’t even gotten a good look at Mount Hua’s front gate when noise met their ears—after listening for a while, they realized it was the sound of cleaning.

Disciples were running back and forth with huge clay vats slung over their shoulders, some as big as a person, scrubbing the Sect—quite literally—clean from top to bottom.

Standing at the front gate was another familiar figure: Hong Dae-kwang.

“Oh! Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword, here you are. Where were you earlier?”

“When did you climb up here, you beggar?!”

Chung Myung’s cheerful face immediately scrunched into a scowl. He snapped at Hong Dae-kwang, annoyed. If this guy had climbed the mountain earlier, shouldn’t he had run into him by then?

“I was in such a rush that I took a shortcut. And who’s this? First time I’ve seen this guy.”

Hong Dae-kwang looked curiously at Chung Mun. In return, Chung Mun politely cupped his fists in a formal greeting:

“My name is Chung Mun. I’m a newly admitted disciple. A pleasure to meet you.”

Seeing Hong Dae-kwang’s jaw drop, his gaze darting from Chung Mun to Chung Myung, the latter already knew exactly what the beggar was dying to ask. But there was no rule saying he had to explain anything to a mere beggar, so…

“That’s all you need to know. If there’s nothing else, move aside, we’ve got things to do.”

Chung Myung whispered to Baek-ah to take So Myung away. Though the ferret clearly wasn’t happy about it, it still obeyed.

Then he grabbed Chung Mun’s wrist and pulled him into the Sect, ignoring the annoyed shouting from Hong Dae-kwang behind them. His plan was to greet the Sect Leader first, then head to the Yuyuan Temple to pay respect to the ancesters. But as luck would have it, they ran into Hyun Jong along the way.

“Oh, you two are here. I was starting to worry—wondering what took so long.”

“Hehe, we just stopped to enjoy the scenery a bit, Sect Leader. Now, if it’s all right, I’d like to escort Chung Mun-sahyung to Yuyuan Temple to pay respects to the ancesters.”

“Please excuse me, sir.”

Technically, based on seniority, Chung Mun should be calling Chung Myung 'Sahyung'. But if Chung Myung preferred to call Chung Mun that, well... it should be fine. After all, Mount Hua was never one to be too rigid about such things.

“Uhm, you two go ahead. Chung Mun, if there’s anything you don’t understand, just ask Chung Myung. Your room is arranged right next to his anyway, since you two already know each other. After paying respects to the ancesters, Chung Myung, take Chung Mun to his room.”

“Yes, sir!”

Chung Myung lit up at that—staying next to each others made it easier to talk. 

“Really? Thank you, Sect Leader.”

Chung Mun bowed politely, and the more Hyun Jong looked at him, the more pleased he became. He smiled until his eyes squinted with joy.

“Alright then, go on. I’ve got a few matters to attend to.”

“Understood. Goodbye, sir!”

Once Hyun Jong turned to leave, the two of them made their way toward Yuyuan Temple. The ancestral hall had been opened up, with air flowing through and signs of recent cleaning. Still, the ancestral tablets on the altar were still thick with dust.

“Aaaaagh! These brats! How dare they neglect the ancestral tablets like this?!”

Chung Myung’s eyes practically burst into flames, but just as he was about to storm out, a gentle hand stopped him.

“Let them be. They’ve got other works to do. We’ll clean it up ourselves after we pay our respects.”

Chung Mun looked around the temple. Chung Myung had told him before that, due to the crisis, this place had changed a lot. He completely sympathized with that.

However...

“Where is it?”

His head turned left, then right, scanning the altar.

“Where’s the White Plum Blossom of the Nocturnal Fragance? Chung Myung?”

“Oh... I forgot to mention that, didn’t I...”

A wave of unease churned in Chung Mun’s gut. So familiar. The feeling that something terrible was about to happen.

“The kids were struggling financially, so they... sold it. And I couldn’t find it. So yeah, our Sect kind of... lost a sacred artifact, Sahyung.”

Like a thunderclap.

Thunk.

Chung Mun clutched his chest and dropped to his knees, nearly giving Chung Myung a heart attack. He rushed over and patted his back.

“Calm down, Sahyung. You’re not young anymore, please take care of your heart.”

“They sold it... They sold it...?”

He whispered hoarsely. That was the sacred artifact of Mount Hua...

“It’s okay, Sahyung. What’s in the past, let it stay in the past.”

But it was a sacred artifact. A sacred artifact!

Oh Mount Hua... my poor Mount Hua...

Chapter Text

After recovering from the shock of learning the Sect had sold off a sacred relic, Chung Mun and Chung Myung set to work cleaning up the Yuyuan Temple. They divided the tasks between them, each taking a side of the altar to clean.

"Sahyung, here’s your memorial tablet. Want to clean it yourself?"

Chung Myung held up a memorial tablet engraved with ‘13th Sect Leader of the Great Mount Hua Sect – Chung Mun’, waving it teasingly in front of the man himself. His smug grin was so infuriating that even the gentle and virtuous Chung Mun had the urge to shove the cleaning rag in his hand straight into Chung Myung's mouth.

To see his own memorial tablet with his own eyes—it was a strange feeling, to say the least...

"Quit joking around and just clean it already."

Chung Mun polished the altar’s candle stands until they gleamed. Overall, this place now looked much tidier than when they’d first entered. Now, all that was left was to wipe down the dusty tablets. He put his hands on his hips and looked up at the blue sky with drifting white clouds, feeling the ache in his heart ease just a little.

“Huuff. Huff!”

Clack, clack.

“…”

Chung Mun turned toward the source of the sound.

Chung Myung was furiously scrubbing his memorial tablet—almost aggressively, if not outright violently.

“Huff! Huff!”

Clack! Clack!

“Chung Myung?”

“Yes, Sahyung?”

The one who had been furiously attacking the tablet instantly stopped what he was doing and turned around with an innocent expression. Chung Mun stared at the way he had just manhandled his memorial tablet, feeling a swirl of mixed emotions inside.

“Do you hate me or something?”

“WHAT?! Of course not! Why would you think that???”

Chung Myung tilted his head in confusion. Had he done something disrespectful to Sect Leader Sahyung?

“The way you’re scrubbing my memorial tablet, it’s like you’re imagining it’s my face and punching it repeatedly…”

The delicate memorial tablet looked like it might shatter at any moment if Chung Mun didn’t step in to stop him. Rather than saying Chung Myung was cleaning it with all his heart, it would be more accurate to say he was destroying it with all his passion.

Chung Myung looked from the tablet to Chung Mun and back again. He put on an innocent face and held up the memorial tablet, pouting as he pointed at a particular spot:

“But there’s still dust right here.”

“I don’t see it.”

“Right here! See? No, no, I have to clean Sect Leader Sahyung’s memorial tablet thoroughly. Sect leader Sahyung, don’t stop me.”

…Why did that sound so wrong somehow?

That person is standing right here, you bastard!

“Huff, huff.”

Clack clack clack.

Outside, Baek Cheon was watching Chung Myung like he was some kind of lunatic. He couldn’t help but wonder where this terrifying person had even come from—his treatment of the deceased was anything but normal.

Little did he know, the “deceased” in question was standing right there, watching the entire scene unfold in real time as the object representing him was abused beyond repair.

‘It’s only a matter of time before it cracks,’ Chung Mun thought.

Crack!

See?

A sharp snapping sound rang out as the memorial tablet fractured, and Chung Myung panicked so hard that his signature strand of hair stood on end.

“Ahhh! A-a crack on the memorial tablet! Oh no! Sect leader Sahyung! Oh no no no noooo!!!”

It seemed that in his moment of shock, he had completely forgotten that Chung Mun had already come back to life.

“Good thing the thing that cracked was the memorial tablet, not my actual face, haha.”

Chung Mun’s face was expressionless, as if he had given up on everything. He let out a dry, lifeless chuckle. No matter how much this Sajae of his might have matured, his insane nature clearly hadn’t changed one bit.

He didn’t even know whether to laugh or cry.

He walked over to the panicked man who was clutching his head and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“Ah, Sahyung, I forgot you were alive again.”

“…Right.”

Speechless. Just absolutely speechless!

----🌸----

Mount Hua sparkled under the sunlight. The once yellowed, dust-covered tiles now gleamed once more, and the pillars and walls had regained their bright, vibrant colors like before.

Bed-sheets hung on clotheslines, gently swaying in the breeze. The whole scene exuded a deep sense of peace.

“Now then…”

Hyun Young swept his sharp gaze all around the place. The disciples tensed up under his scrutiny. Their fate now rested on the words that would come from his mouth.

“Well, this’ll do...”

Though not entirely satisfied, Hyun Young still gave a nod, as if acknowledging their hard work. A cheer erupted immediately from the crowd.

The disciples rejoiced, finally able to rest, while the Elders busied themselves planning the feast for that evening. Chung Mun and Chung Myung, having just returned from the White Blossom Hall, joined in the crowd as well.

“On the way back, I had stopped by a tavern in Hua-Um and ordered some food. We just need to go pick it up.”

One of Chung Myung’s ears twitched as he heard Hyun Young’s voice. He tiptoed over and whispered to him:

“Elder. Liquor, liquor…”

“You…! Hey, you punk! After what happened last time when you drank yourself into a stupor, you still haven’t learned your lesson and dare to bring up liquor again?!”

Hyun Jong yelled. Hyun Young frowned slightly.

“Calm down, Sahyung! A boy can crave some liquor!”

“Hngggg.”

Just as Hyun Jong was about to yell even louder...

“Here’s the liquor.”

A voice spoke from behind. Everyone turned their heads to look. The Sect’s gate, which had been shut, slowly opened, and a man stepped inside. In his hand, he carried a white jug of wine wrapped in green cloth.

“Oh!”

A look of delight filled Hyun Jong’s eyes.

“Lord!”

“Father!”

Those who recognized Tang Gunak as he entered couldn’t hold back their joy and shouted out. Tang Gunak beamed at the warm welcome. He strode confidently into the Sect grounds, then bowed his head respectfully toward Hyun Jong.

“Greetings, Alliance Leader.”

“Don’t be like this, Lord!”

Hyun Jong quickly reached out to Tang Gunak’s hands and lifted him.

“I feel deeply ashamed for failing to fulfill my role as Alliance Leader, leaving the Lord here to shoulder the burden in my place. I can't dare accept such formalities.”

“That’s the current Lord of the Tang Family, right? He looks younger than I expected.”

While the two leaders of their respective sects conversed, Chung Mun leaned over and whispered to Chung Myung. At some point, the latter had already returned from where he was standing near Hyun Young and now stood at Chung Mun’s side, nodding:

“Yes, that kid’s pretty bright, not as stuck in the past as those old fogies from our time.”

Of course, Chung Mun had already been briefed about the Heavenly Comrade Alliance, and about how Chung Myung had pushed all of the responsibility for the Plum Blossom Island to the other Alliance members, then led Mount Hua into Bongmun for three years.

He didn’t have any comment on the decision—after all, he was just an outsider in that whole affair. It’s just that, this Alliance’s got...

“Hmph. Some get a warm welcome, while others are stuck hauling luggage.”

At that moment, Im Sobyeong entered, his entire body trembling.

“Green Forest King?”

One of the most notorious leaders of the Evil Faction was now... inside the ranks of the Heavenly Comrade Alliance.

No wonder Chung Mun hadn’t seen a single bandit on his way to Xi’an—it turned out they were all busy working their backs off on the island.

Would that count as turning over a new leaf?

Chung Mun wouldn’t be too opposed if the Green Forest Bandits truly intended to walk the righteous path. What surprised him more was how someone like Chung Myung—who never let any member of the Evil Sects off without a beating—would agree to form an alliance with a bunch of mountain bandits. Living long enough really did mean seeing more.

When Chung Myung saw his Sahyung giving him that knowing look after glancing at Im Sobyeong, he raised an eyebrow:

“I know it seems strange to you, but trust me, I have absolutely zero desire to acknowledge them as members of the Heavenly Comrade Alliance. Not even a little.”

“You worked them to the bone and now you still want to deny your association with them? Have a little conscience, you bastard!”

Truly the pinnacle of heartlessness!

Chung Mun aimed a kick at Chung Myung’s rear, but he dodged it effortlessly. There was no helping it—both in the past and now, his martial skills had never come close to matching this brat’s.

Frankly, it was already a blessing he hadn’t been beaten up by this little rascal...

The vivid memories of their Master and Sasuks getting their heads bashed in by Chung Myung were still fresh in his mind. With a sigh, Chung Mun decided to let it go. But then, as he glanced at Tang Gunak, he suddenly recalled something. He turned to Chung Myung and said:

“But didn’t you say you’d become friends with the Tang Family Lord? You should go greet him properly.”

“Then I’ll go now.”

He knew how to make friends—that was a good sign.

‘So this is what it feels like when parents see their children growing up.’

A smile tugged at Chung Mun’s lips, and he let himself bask in that quiet happiness... until he suddenly noticed the atmosphere shift.

‘What is this? What’s going on?’

As fitting of the Sichuan Tang Family’s Lord, the pressure radiating from Tang Gunak was intense and overwhelming. But the real issue was—

Why were these two so-called longtime friends looking like they were about to fight each other???

Were they really friends!?

"This friend who has been in seclusion for years without contact..."

The steady voice of Tang Gunak rang out clearly.

"I must confirm for myself what you’ve gained during that time—only then can I enjoy fine wine with a peaceful mind. Don’t you agree?"

His sharp gaze bore into Chung Myung, the pressure he emitted enough to make one shiver despite the warmth. But when Chung Myung met those eyes, he only smiled and received the gaze without flinching.

"Such a confirmation..."

Chung Myung curved his lips into a smirk, locking eyes with his long-time friend.

"Would one bottle of wine be enough for that?"

At those words, a smile identical to Chung Myung’s formed on Tang Gunak’s lips.

Only the onlookers were left stunned by the sudden shift in tension.

Chapter Text

The battle between Tang Gunak and Chung Myung was fiercely intense. Though Chung Mun knew that with Chung Myung’s capability, it would be difficult for him to get seriously injured, he couldn’t help but worry.

Chung Myung was no longer the Plum Blossom Sword Saint of the past, and Chung Mun himself was no longer skilled enough to gauge his strength. The disciples held their breath, watching every moment of the duel. The training ground was torn apart, dust and debris flying everywhere. The bizarre and overwhelming scene created by the clash of two top masters left no room for distraction.

At last, the battle ended as a single plum blossom petal gently fell on the point where sword and dagger met.

It wasn’t a burst of Plum Blossom Sword qi—it was an actual plum blossom petal.

So delicate and fragile, completely out of place in such an intense fight. Both men froze, their weapons lowering naturally.

They stared at each other blankly, then looked at the petal, and finally let out weary smiles.

Chung Myung grasped the throwing dagger aimed at his neck. Tang Gunak, in turn, took hold of the Dark Fragrant Plum Blossom Sword pointed at his face.

The two silently disarmed one another.

“…Never thought this sword’s edge would wear out like this.”

“That’s my line. Who would’ve guessed the weapon of Lord Tang would be like this…”

Thunk.

Tang Gunak caught the dagger Chung Myung tossed over, then threw back the Dark Fragrant Plum Blossom Sword to him.

The two quietly gazed at each other for a long moment—then burst into laughter.

Chung Myung shrugged and asked with a smile. 

"Shall we continue?"

"Hmm." 

Tang Gunak thought for a moment, then shook his head.

"There’s no point anymore."

"...."

A warm smile appeared on Tang Gunak’s face.

"You’ve returned at last, Mount Hua's Chivalrous Sword."

"Woaaaaaa!"

Naturally, this was the best possible outcome, as neither of them was injured.

Cheers erupted from the surrounding disciples. Even Chung Mun clapped excitedly. For martial artists living on Kangho, it was impossible to sit still during a battle between such masters.

All the more so when it was a spectacle like this.

As Chung Myung stepped down from the arena, the disciples quickly gathered around him, throwing their arms over his shoulders despite his rude attempts to push them away.

Watching Chung Myung surrounded by fellow disciples, Chung Mun couldn’t help but feel a deep, indescribable joy rise within him.

He was no longer alone.

No one can live alone forever—not even the greatest warrior in the world or the most powerful king. In the end, everyone needs a place to belong. For them, that place was Mount Hua.

For a brief moment, Chung Mun found the sight of Chung Myung’s back unfamiliar.

The broad back that once seemed so lonely, hidden deep within these remote mountains in his memories, looked nothing like the one now surrounded by a crowd of people. He was still Chung Mun’s Sajae, yet somehow… different.

Suddenly, a vision flashed through his mind—blood and corpses strewn across the ground, and the image of a man’s back as he held someone’s lifeless body in his arms, heavy and full of sorrow.

That’s when Chung Mun realized what that “difference” was.

It was the change in Chung Myung—the person he became after losing everything.

The price of maturity had been steep, but it was through that pain that his junior brother had come to understand so much more.

To cherish, to empathize, to understand.

To take responsibility, to put trust in his fellow disciples.

Chung Mun never wanted him to learn these things through such harsh experiences.

But still, seeing how much Chung Myung had grown brought him a quiet sense of joy.

This was enough.

After everything, Chung Myung had held onto his integrity—

And for Chung Mun, that was more than enough.

He didn’t need to become gentler or more reserved. All he needed was to be himself—more mature, more thoughtful—and that alone was enough to make Chung Mun, as his senior brother, feel truly happy.

Chung Mun smiled quietly to himself and stepped toward the noisy crowd. He aimed straight for the person in the center and threw an arm over his shoulder. Seeing Chung Myung’s bewildered expression, he couldn’t help but ruffle his hair until it was completely messy.

“It’s been a while since we last saw each other, but you’ve really grown up!”

To the other disciples, it just sounded like a simple compliment exchanged between two brothers reunited after a long time. But to Chung Myung, it meant something much deeper.

‘I acknowledge you.’

Chung Myung’s growth had come at the cost of an entire lifetime.

When everything he once had was lost, he had no choice but to rebuild from scratch.

When he learned what he needed to do to bring benefit to the Sect, rather than relying on the Sahyung who was no longer in this world.

When he learned to entrust his back to others, instead of relying solely on himself.

In the past, he had never been able to understand Chung Mun’s thoughts—He had never truly been seen as an adult by him.

But now… perhaps he had finally earned that recognition.

Just one glance at those proud eyes was enough to tell him that.

“It’s nothing. I’m Chung Myung, after all.”

A surge of emotion welled up within him, making the corners of his eyes burn.

“All right, that’s enough celebrating. Let’s clean up the training ground and take a break—there’s a feast tonight.”

Baek Cheon clapped his hands as he spoke. Once everyone had gathered and tidied up, they dispersed to handle their own tasks before dinner.

“During the match earlier, I noticed you kept glancing at the disciples. Did you want to teach them something?”

Chung Mun said, walking beside Chung Myung. Since both of them had some free time, they decided to take a stroll around the summit of Lotus Peak.

“Not exactly. There was fear in their eyes. I just wanted to show them that the Mount Hua swordsmanship can defeat any opponent, no matter how strong.”

“You really care about the children, huh? You’re starting to act like a proper Elder.”

The two shared a laugh, then fell into a comfortable silence, watching the sun set.

The golden light of dusk bathed the entire scene of Mount Hua, its endless jagged peaks rising above pink clouds.

The landscape was majestic, yet the two figures in pristine white Taoist robes stood tall and unwavering against nature’s grandeur—their steady silhouettes stood out against a sky already tinged with twilight.

Chung Mun gently fiddled with the red plum blossom emblem on his chest; it had been so long since he last wore one of these robes. A flood of nostalgia washed over him, and the corners of his lips lifted into a soft smile. It was only the moment he donned the Mount Hua Taoist robe again that he truly felt he had returned home.

It’s been so long, Mount Hua.

A heartfelt greeting from an old soul, sent to the home that had been parted from him for a century.

The gentle fragrance of flowers lingered around them, as if embracing them like a mother’s gentle hug welcoming back a child who had wandered far from home.

It’s been so long.

“You know, I had been working really hard,” Chung Myung teased. “You should have seen the Sect when it was on the verge of collapse. At that time, I had thought that if you’d been the one to return instead of me, you’d have coughed up blood from shock and dropped dead on the spot.”

Chung Mun, still immersed in his emotions beside him, immediately darkened at the reminder of the sacred artifact that had been sold off and the debt that nearly wiped out the Sect, his mood sinking by half.

But he had to admit Chung Myung was right: if he had come back first, he probably would have fainted the moment he saw the dilapidated gate of Mount Hua.

“Back then, oh man, the training ground was nothing but dirt and rocks. The Heavenly Golden Palace had vanished without a trace, even the name plaque you used to wipe down every morning was gone. The disciples were just a bunch of merchants’ kids who wouldn’t train seriously. If I hadn’t beaten some sense into them and remembered your slush fund… er, emergency reserve fund, we’d all have ended up living on the streets!”

“I think I just heard the words ‘slush fund’…”

“Why do you always pick up on the most useless details? The point is, I worked really hard, so you’re not allowed to criticize me anymore.”

“Since I came back, have I once criticized your contributions? The only thing I’ve complained about is your nasty, demon-possessed personality.”

“How is that not criticism!?”

----🌸----

The two of them talked for a long time, almost as if they had returned to the carefree versions of themselves from the past, until the sun fully set, leaving only a faint red glow on the distant horizon.

“Let’s head back. There’s still the banquet tonight. I was thinking of taking a bath first before going to the dining hall. Do you want to come with me?”

“Sure, I haven’t washed up yet either.”

As twilight fell, everything around them grew quieter, more subdued. Chung Mun stood up and began walking away, but Chung Myung remained seated, his gaze fixed in one direction.

There, in that direction, stood a lone plum blossom tree. Beneath it was a small mound of earth, overgrown with grass.

His lips pressed tightly together.

“What’s wrong? Let’s go, we’ll be late.”

After walking a short distance, Chung Mun noticed Chung Myung still sitting absentmindedly and called out to him.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.”

Chung Myung stood up, stretched, and quickly caught up with Chung Mun. Because the older man was walking ahead, he didn’t see the somber expression on his Sajae’s face. Along the way, Chung Mun continued to chat a bit more, and Chung Myung responded with vague hums.

But his thought was clearly elsewhere.

It seemed he had made up his mind.