Chapter 190

Chapter 190
Chapter 190
Chapter Title: Lightened Shoulders

Neung-o suddenly broke into laughter. Unlike the polite, hollow expressions he’d worn all this time, this smile was bright, genuine, and radiantly warm.

“Thank you, young hero.”

“What’s brought this sudden gratitude on?”

“My shoulders… they feel far lighter now.”

“Ah, if that’s the kind of thanks you mean, I’ll accept it gladly.”

“You catch on quickly, don’t you?”

They had thought the very same thing. Yang-hui simply shrugged in reply, while Neung-o raised his hands in the formal salute of cupped fists.

“I could not afford to fail. So I gave everything I had—body and soul—waiting only for a chance worth seizing. But now… it seems I need not wait any longer.”

He no longer stood alone. He had found someone he could trust to watch his back. If he should fall, the young man before him would bring his master Jeomchang down from beyond the heavens to save him.

It was a future that had not yet come to pass, little more than a faint shift in how things might unfold. Yet to Neung-o, it loomed as vast and unshakable as the peak of Mount Tai.

“So I can speak with absolute certainty now. Before I ever call upon others to help, I will save Jeomchang myself.”

Jeomchang meant everything to Neung-o. It had become his true family, even after he had turned his back on the one he was born into.

“You spoke of the Ming Cult’s mongrels as your enemies, young hero. Will you indulge this humble man’s ambition?”

In all honesty, Yang-hui knew that reaching out to Yin-hu would have been the logical choice—no matter what Neung-o might think. It carried the least risk and promised the greatest efficiency. Still…

“Very well.”

His decision was not born of empty courtesy, nor was it made simply because this concerned his companion’s master. He had chosen the path that would yield the truest, deepest gain.

“I believe you’re worth it, Brother Neung.”

Hold on just a little longer, he told himself, and the returns will be immense. Neung-o was someone worth investing in. To borrow Jin Yeong-gil’s way of speaking, he was a person of immense value.

“Hearing you say that fills me with gratitude. I will prove worthy of your trust.”

“Of course you will.”

“Naturally. I am a disciple of Jeomchang. When I was taught the Thousand Character Classic before the Analects, the very first phrase I committed to memory was: ‘If one finds the Way at dawn, one may die content at dusk.’”

To attain the truth one seeks, even life itself is a price freely paid. That was the kind of man Neung-o was—an arrow already loosed from the bowstring. Should he miss his mark, another would be nocked and drawn; he would never hesitate.

“Good. In return, let me offer you but one gift.”

“A gift?”

Yang-hui folded his arms and fell into quiet thought.

“Judging by how the Blood Cult wretches reacted, granting precedence to the Ming Cult will send them into a frenzy. If I could instead pass that precedence to you… and keep it hidden completely until the moment it matters most… it would be the ultimate stroke that turns the tide.”

He looked up, his gaze clear and steady.

“Wait but a moment. I am going to create a new martial art.”

“Create one? Right now?”

“It will take only a little while.”

He drew upon the memories of his past life. In truth, Yang-hui knew a great many forbidden arts—he had spent years fighting the Three Great Demonic Cults, after all, and had claimed no small number of their secret scrolls when he defeated their masters.

“Dark Blood Hidden Poison Gu… if I adapt the principles just so, it should serve perfectly.”

It was a forbidden technique that implanted a Dark Blood Hidden Poison Gu—nurtured through gu poison sorcery—within a person’s body to greatly amplify their power. Traditionally, it required a living entity cultivated from blood essence and toxic qi, a kind of spiritual or demonic creature.

“But I have Vital Intent Qi. Shaped with care, it could take its place.”

He summoned celestial qi and ran through several quick trials, and each result confirmed his plan would work.

“For now, let us call it the Celestial Egg Valor Transformation Art. Brother Neung… may I place a single life-form within your body?”

Neung-o stared, visibly taken aback, though his expression remained composed.

“A creature? You speak of gu poison sorcery?”

“It will strengthen your body,” Yang-hui assured him. “And fortify your spirit too. What better place to keep a token safe, tucked away like a pledge for what is to come?”

Neung-o studied him in silence, then laughed aloud.

“So be it. I am already an arrow. An arrow laden with power strikes harder—let me see it that way. Whatever your motives, it matters not.”

“There are no other motives.”

“Even if there were, it would not change what we have agreed.”

He meant it—there truly was no hidden purpose. The technique would benefit Neung-o in every way. And so, with his companion’s consent given, Yang-hui stepped forward.

Qi imbued with will becomes the very essence of life—that is the nature of Vital Intent Qi.

“But you will not become a gu,” he murmured. “You will become an egg.”

Celestial qi gathered, forming a small, perfect sphere—an egg. What might one day emerge from it, no one could yet say. He had filled it with purpose, but not with a set path. Whatever life lay within would exist only for Neung-o.

Neung-o drew in a sharp breath as the sphere settled inside him, then looked directly at Yang-hui.

“It was sincere,” he said quietly.

“What was?”

“Your intent. It was given purely for my sake.”

The moment the soft, warm qi slipped into his being, he knew—there was no trace of harm or self-serving design within it.

Yang-hui clicked his tongue in mock annoyance.

“I told you, there were no other motives.”

“Thank you.”

“And I thank you.”

“Whatever for, young hero?”

“For playing along when someone pretends. Just as I do.”

Neung-o smiled gently. “I have walked alone for too long. I will make the effort to be more open from now on.”

Yang-hui smiled back. Swordsmen may speak through their blades, but anyone can see into another’s heart if they take the time to truly look.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

“Brother, what have you decided?”

“Asking the same question over and over… should I take that as a request to flick you soundly on the forehead?”

“That is not like you at all!”

“You dare pass judgment on my grand designs, you narrow-minded little wretch?”

“Whether your mind is broad or small, this is not how you act!”

If words could be martial arts, ‘no’ would be the opening strike.

“Chui-dal,” Yang-hui said firmly, “I accept.”

“Accept what?”

“Your challenge to spar.”

He seized Chui-dal by the collar and pulled him along. If he was going to teach him a proper lesson—on a day like this, with dust kicking up and all—he would need plenty of open space.

“Somewhere open… this will do.”

“Agh! Brother, I’m sorry! I won’t slack off again! Agh, it hurts!”

“I haven’t even laid a hand on you yet, you rascal!”

Baek Heon-so watched on, grinning broadly, while Dang Gun stepped forward and spoke calmly.

“Young brother Hui, discipline within the family is best kept behind closed doors, for the sake of harmony.”

“Do you think so?”

“Young Clan Leader, how can you speak so sharply?”

“I understand what you mean, brother—so surely you do too. You are teasing me, are you not?”

“I assure you, I am not!”

Yang-hui released Chui-dal’s collar, brushed off his hands, and turned to Dang Gun.

“Then tell me—why do you think I chose to honor Brother Neung’s wish?”

“Whatever my own reasoning, you have always been this way.”

“Have I?”

“Others might see only a strategist—someone who removes every uncertainty to secure the best outcome.”

“I chose what would bring the greatest good.”

But that was not the Yang-hui Dang Gun knew. To him, Yang-hui always placed righteousness above all else.

“A problem may have many answers, but only one is truly right—and it must also be the just one.” Dang Gun spoke with quiet conviction. “You are the sort who will always choose the right answer.”

“I would have done the same,” he continued. “We may arrive there by different roads, but we always reach the same place.”

The Dang Clan had always stood for unyielding integrity and loyalty. Among them, Young Clan Leader Dang Gun pursued virtue most steadfastly—even when it cost him dearly. And Yang-hui filled him with genuine admiration: he walked the path of righteousness and yet prospered along the way, though he claimed it was nothing more than happy coincidence.

“I hold you in great esteem, you know. Seeing you act as you do makes me confident in my own judgments.”

“And what if I make a mistake?”

“Then I will set you straight. As your elder brother, I will knock sense into you if I must.”

“You will make me blush at this rate, Young Clan Leader.”

“Is that so, esteemed brother?” Chui-dal cut in, unable to bear the tender moment any longer. “What do we tell the Jin Clan’s Young Fortress Lord? We know who caused his father’s illness—are we simply to wait and watch?”

Yang-hui and Dang Gun fell quiet, looking as sheepish as children caught with honey on their lips.

“Leave it, Chui-dal,” Dang Gun said. “Young brother Hui has a plan.”

“I could use your counsel right now, Brother Dang.”

“Ah, duties call—I must be going.”

“You said you would help me see clearly! Stand by me when words are what is needed!”

Dang Gun merely cleared his throat. Amidst their playful bickering, they noticed the glances of passing disciples from the Orthodox Faction.

Chui-dal leaned in and whispered, “That one is glaring daggers at me. Thinks we are shirking while they do all the work.”

“Indeed. Most annoying.”

“Shall I knock him down? You can take responsibility for what follows.”

The subjugation force was busy searching for bandits who had fled from Chok Rang Village—tedious, exhausting work, and it was only natural they should resent seeing others seemingly idle.

“Are the orders regarding us being revised? Or have new instructions been given?” Yang-hui wondered. Whatever the reason, the injustice of it stung. They might appear unoccupied, but their search was very much underway. “In any case, Won-u is handling it.”

There was no use having a fine spirit beast if one did not make proper use of it. Won-u was circling high above them even now, scouring the land below. He had not been linked spiritually, but they had agreed he would return to report anything he found.

Then—

“What are you doing back already?”

Won-u was perched on a nearby branch, his beak working busily. If he had news, he should have delivered it at once instead of eating.

“Won-u. Report.”

-Kkiaa?

“Report.”

-Kkiaa…

Won-u eyed him warily before fluttering down to rest on his outstretched arm.

“When I give you a task, you must do it properly… hey.”

-Kkiaa?

A faint, warm ripple of qi washed over him.

“What have you been eating?”

Gently he pried the bird’s beak open and looked at what it held.

“This… is this a spirit herb?”

“A spirit herb?”

“Did you say spirit herb?”

Baek Heon-so, Chui-dal, Dang Gun, and Yang-hui looked at one another, then moved as one, without needing another word.

“Won-u—fly! Take us back to where you found this!”

-Kkiaa?

“Not a scolding! Find more, and you shall have the finest beef—all you can eat!”

-Kkiaaa!

They ran after Won-u as he soared ahead, perhaps half an hour’s journey. Soon the qi grew so strong even average martial artists could feel it, pulsing bright and clear. And there it was—spread before them was a whole patch of spirit grass… dozens of stalks… no, hundreds…

“Wow.”

“It is like a dream.”

“Is heaven smiling on us?”

Yang-hui threw his head back and laughed aloud. All his life, fortune had never seemed to favor him—until now.

“Uwaaaah! Truly, great blessings come like lightning, my friends!”