Yuk Cheongah led the warriors of Lotus Hall toward the Jongri family estate, where Needle King Jongri Sahyeon resided.
And Bu Eunseol followed behind, alone.
The Supreme Corps members were recovering from injuries sustained in their bloody battle with the Ghost Dawn Party. Moreover, persuading Bullet King, Bukgung Ryeong, was a task that didn’t require the corps' involvement in the first place.
Upon entering Chengdu, where the Jongri family estate was located, Yuk Cheongah called Bu Eunseol to join her in the carriage.
The remaining warriors followed behind, employing their qinggong.
‘Something feels off.’
Bu Eunseol’s expression was slightly dark as he gazed out the window.
And for good reason—he had previously deceived Needle King Jongri Sahyeon and his granddaughter, Jongri Sayu, to uncover the whereabouts of the Seven-Finger Demon Blade, Bu Zhanyang.
He had done so under the guise of Baek Museong, the disciple of the elusive Buddha Venerable, who wandered the martial world without revealing his tracks.
‘In the end, the Needle King Clan lady came to the Martial Alliance to protest. Only after seeing Brother Baek’s face did she realize she’d been deceived…’
Suddenly, he recalled the words of Cheon Hwain during the Martial Alliance’s Heroes’ Conference.
Unable to wait any longer, Jongri Sayu had sought out the Martial Alliance, demanding to know Baek Museong’s whereabouts.
Upon learning the truth about Baek Museong, she realized she had been thoroughly deceived.
Now, heading to the Jongri family estate under the identity of Seon Woojin, Bu Eunseol felt a prickling sense of guilt, as if fine hairs were sprouting on his conscience.
“Whoa, whoa.”
With the coachman’s shout, the carriage came to a halt.
Lost in deep thought, Bu Eunseol hadn’t noticed they had already arrived at the Jongri family estate.
“Captain Seon.” Before stepping out of the carriage, Yuk Cheongah spoke to Bu Eunseol. “No need to overthink it. If it’s not meant to be, it’s not meant to be.”
She seemed to assume his serious expression stemmed from the pressure of this mission.
“Understood. Thank you.”
“Good. Shall we go?”
Stepping out of the carriage, Yuk Cheongah clasped her hands and addressed the Jongri family guards.
“I am Yuk Cheongah, Lord of Lotus Hall, affiliated with the Martial Alliance.”
“This way, please.”
Thanks to the prior notice sent, the guards quickly ushered her in.
Entering the guest hall, they saw an elderly man with an ethereal, sage-like presence standing with his hands behind his back.
Tall, over six feet, with phoenix-like eyes and a dignified demeanor, it was Needle King Jongri Sahyeon.
“Yuk Cheongah, a junior of the martial world, greets the Family Head.”
Yuk Cheongah deliberately used the title “Family Head” instead of “Needle King.”
The Needle King had been constantly harassed by young martial artists seeking his Primordial Golden Acupuncture, a technique that could rapidly enhance internal energy in a short time.
By addressing him as the Family Head, she made it clear she was approaching him as the head of the Jongri family, not as the Needle King.
“Your father raised a fine child,” Jongri Sahyeon remarked, sighing as he looked at the spirited Yuk Cheongah with an unexpectedly odd greeting. “I, on the other hand, failed in raising my children and suffer daily because of it.”
Shaking his head, he pointed to the Lotus Hall warriors behind Yuk Cheongah, who were carrying an abundance of gifts.
“Take those gifts back. That old man isn’t here.”
“What do you mean?”
“When he stayed at our estate, people from the Martial Alliance kept visiting. Feeling sorry, he went off to Mount Geumwang.”
Sighing deeply again, Jongri Sahyeon turned and said, “Go to the area around Songgwang Peak. He built a small hut there to live in. Though, it seems he’ll leave soon…”
Bukgung Ryeong, who had been living quietly, felt disturbed by the frequent visits from Martial Alliance members and seemed intent on leaving the area altogether.
“Understood. Thank you.”
Grasping the situation, Yuk Cheongah hurriedly bowed and left the Jongri estate.
‘I can’t return without even trying.’
If she couldn’t even meet Bullet King, all their efforts would be for naught.
She led Bu Eunseol and her subordinates, hurriedly heading to Mount Geumwang.
They scoured every possible place around Songgwang Peak where Bullet King might be staying, searching meticulously.
But no matter how thoroughly they looked, they found neither Bullet King nor even the slightest trace of life.
As the sun began to set, Yuk Cheongah shook her head.
“It’s come to this, after all.”
Gazing at the fading sunset, she sighed and shook her head again.
“Well, if someone like him decided to hide, it’s only natural we couldn’t find him.”
It was a strange thing.
Despite traveling all the way from the Martial Alliance and failing to catch even a glimpse of Bukgung Ryeong’s shadow, there was no trace of regret on her face.
“By the way, Captain Seon, you made an unexpected decision,” Yuk Cheongah said, glancing at Bu Eunseol’s profile and bringing up an old topic. “You turned down an offer to join the Star Guard Division and chose the Supreme Corps instead.”
“It wasn’t really a rejection. My duties and management have always been with the Supreme Corps,” Bu Eunseol replied calmly. “And the Hall Lord has consistently given me and the Supreme Corps opportunities to achieve merits. How could I go elsewhere?”
“Heh heh heh. You’re better at flattery than I thought,” Yuk Cheongah said, staring intently at him. “No matter how great your achievements, if you joined the Star Guard Division, you’d likely remain a first-tier sword captain. There are many there who’ve accumulated merits over years.”
She was pointing out that Bu Eunseol had come to the Supreme Corps for ambition, to climb higher.
“It could be the opposite,” Bu Eunseol said calmly. “If the Hall Lord doesn’t rise, wouldn’t I just remain an insignificant Captain of the Supreme Corps?”
Mulling over his words, Yuk Cheongah gave a faint smile. “I don’t think I misjudged you.”
Bu Eunseol had taken a gamble on extremely slim odds, likely because he believed in his own abilities.
Though he appeared devoid of ambition on the surface, he harbored a burning desire, like a blazing sun—a kindred spirit to her.
Step, step.
At that moment, a gray silhouette approached the spot where Bu Eunseol and Yuk Cheongah stood.
Though clad in tattered clothes, his eyes gleamed brightly, and a noble aura emanated from his entire being.
It was the Bullet King, Bukgung Ryeong.
Seeing him, Yuk Cheongah rushed forward with a surprised expression.
“Elder.” With utmost respect, she bowed and greeted him.
“Yuk Cheongah, a junior of the martial world, greets the Elder.”
Following her, Bu Eunseol also bowed.
“Seon Woojin greets Elder Bullet King.”
Bukgung Ryeong looked at the two alternately, his brow deeply furrowed.
“Who’s wandering around this desolate place? More people from the Martial Alliance, I see.”
Disturbed by the constant visits from Martial Alliance members near Songgwang Peak, he had relocated to a place far from it, where no one could find him.
But sensing the presence of Bu Eunseol and Yuk Cheongah as they roamed Mount Geumwang, he had deliberately revealed himself.
If he didn’t make his intentions clear this time, the Martial Alliance would keep sending others.
“I’ll leave Mount Geumwang in three days,” Bukgung Ryeong said, looking at Yuk Cheongah and Bu Eunseol alternately. “I stayed here because the scenery and cliffs of Mount Geumwang helped cleanse my troubled heart. But now it’s become too noisy.”
With a solemn expression, he continued, “Tell the Martial Alliance clearly: I’m leaving the martial world for good, so don’t come looking for me anymore.”
Yuk Cheongah couldn’t hide her shock.
Bukgung Ryeong maintained formidable martial prowess and was still in his prime.
For such an exceptional master to suddenly leave the martial world?
The false accusations from Ghost Island had already been cleared, and the Martial Alliance knew the truth.
Yet he was willing to abandon everything and leave the martial world—it was utterly incomprehensible.
“Elder, do you remember me?” Yuk Cheongah said urgently. “Four years ago in Saanbu, we dealt with the Snake Fang Gang together…”
“I know,” Bukgung Ryeong replied. “Back then, you were investigating the Fast Eagle Rope, Jin Won-gyeom murder case.”
“You remember,” Yuk Cheongah said cautiously. “At that time, when I found the Snake Fang Gang’s hideout, you praised me highly and said to call on you if I ever needed help.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“I’ve come to invite you as an honored elder of the Martial Alliance.”
Bukgung Ryeong frowned. “Childish talk. How would that benefit you?”
“The Supreme Corps, where I serve, is in a difficult situation right now.”
“And?”
“If I succeed in inviting you, it would easily resolve that difficulty.”
“Hmm.” At Yuk Cheongah’s candid words, Bukgung Ryeong shook his head and said in a low voice, “That won’t happen, so go back.”
Despite his harsh demeanor, Yuk Cheongah’s eyes sparkled. “We’ll fully restore your honor.” Calmly, she continued, “Even if the martial world knows you were falsely accused, that incident must have weighed heavily on your heart.”
“…”
“Rumors in the martial world are fierce but fade quickly. However, legacies are different.”
“What are you getting at?”
With gleaming eyes, Yuk Cheongah said, “We’ll proceed to erect a Hero’s Monument in your honor.”
A Hero’s Monument.
A stele erected to honor a martial artist who has achieved great feats and performed many noble deeds.
Only eight such monuments had been erected by the Martial Alliance, all for exceptional heroes whose names would be remembered for generations. It was said that the highest honor for a righteous martial artist was to have their name inscribed on a Hero’s Monument.
“Ridiculous. Are you telling me to die now?” Bukgung Ryeong scoffed.
Yuk Cheongah replied, “You’ve wandered the martial world alone, doing good deeds. And at Ghost Island, you sacrificed all your honor to protect the dignity of many righteous heroes.” With a resolute gaze, she added, “That alone qualifies you to have your name on a Hero’s Monument.”
Bu Eunseol, listening, gave a faint nod.
No wonder a sharp mind like Yuk Cheongah had eagerly taken on a task that all the Martial Alliance’s leaders had failed at—she had such a plan.
A Hero’s Monument.
The ultimate honor for a righteous martial artist.
Even someone as detached from fame as Bukgung Ryeong would find it hard to refuse.
“Do I look like someone who craves fame?” Bukgung Ryeong said, sneering. “You think a mere stone would change my mind?”
Astonishingly, he was completely detached from fame and profit, like an enlightened monk.
“Elder.”
“No use. No matter what you say, my decision won’t change.” With that, Bukgung Ryeong turned and vanished like a ghost, using his movement technique.
Yuk Cheongah stared blankly at the spot where he disappeared, her expression dazed.
To refuse the erection of a Hero’s Monument, the greatest honor for a righteous martial artist?
It was an outcome she hadn’t anticipated.
“A failure,” she muttered.
Bu Eunseol calmly advised, “There are still three days left, aren’t there? If we try to persuade him again, there might be a chance.”
“I suppose so,” Yuk Cheongah replied, but her expression lacked confidence.
A supreme martial artist in his prime had decided to leave the martial world, even rejecting the honor of a Hero’s Monument. That meant no matter how enticing the offer, his mind wouldn’t change.
That night, Bu Eunseol, who had been quietly sleeping at an inn, stealthily slipped out.
“Soyo, I leave my tracks to you.” Though he was with Lotus Hall, there might be Martial Alliance spies watching.
Entrusting his tracks to Soyo, Bu Eunseol secretly left Chengdu.
He arrived at a distillery a short distance from the city.
“Give me this.” Purchasing a jug of the finest yellow wine, he swiftly used his qinggong to head toward Songgwang Peak.
Crack.
While employing his qinggong, Bu Eunseol used the Face and Bone Shifting Art to restore his original appearance. With a light twist of his body, his outer and inner garments reversed, transforming into an entirely different outfit.
Bu Eunseol had faced many hardships alongside Bukgung Ryeong in the past.
Though unspoken, they had formed a bond as close as lifelong friends through those trials. And Bu Eunseol didn’t want Bukgung Ryeong, who could leave a significant mark on the martial world, to leave it like this.
Thus, he intended to meet him in his true identity.
Flutter.
Reaching Songgwang Peak, Bu Eunseol heightened his Void Heart Command Technique.
The surrounding scenery flashed through his mind, and he soon sensed a faint presence at the opposite cliff’s edge.
Swoosh.
Using Swift Beyond Shadow, he stealthily headed toward the opposite valley. After several leaps and glides, he saw a small hut bathed in moonlight on a cliff.
There, an elderly man gazed blankly at the night sky. It was Bukgung Ryeong.
‘His martial prowess has declined.’
Normally, Bukgung Ryeong would have sensed Bu Eunseol’s presence the moment he used his qinggong.
But he only detected him upon his arrival.
“Why are you here?” Bukgung Ryeong said, turning with an angry expression. “Eavesdropping on the Martial Alliance’s intelligence network?”
Bu Eunseol chuckled, setting down the wine jug. “Not interested. The Martial Alliance means nothing to me.”
Sitting where the moonlight shone brightly, he opened the jug.
A fragrant aroma, enough to make one’s mouth water, spread in all directions.
“Hmm.” Looking at the clear wine, Bu Eunseol took out a gourd from his robes.
Gulp, gulp.
He drank heartily, like an ox lapping up water.
Bukgung Ryeong stared at him, wondering what was happening. But Bu Eunseol, heedless of his gaze, occasionally glanced at the moonlight and drank boldly.
“The scenery here is indeed splendid. It makes the wine taste even better.”
‘This guy?’ Bukgung Ryeong, silently watching, grew furious.
Tormented by inner turmoil, he had been fasting like an ascetic monk, meditating endlessly. Yet here was Bu Eunseol, drinking tantalizingly fragrant wine right in front of him.
“Are you here to mock me?” Bukgung Ryeong demanded.
“What do you mean?”
“Then why are you guzzling wine here?”
Bu Eunseol replied shamelessly, “I was looking for a place to drink alone and settled here because of the fine scenery.”
“Go drink somewhere else.”
“Hah, are you claiming all of Mount Geumwang as yours?”
“Hmph.” Snorting coldly, Bukgung Ryeong stood up and stormed off somewhere.
Bu Eunseol muttered as if relieved, “Good. I almost had to share this century-old yellow wine I barely managed to get.”
“You rotten bastard!” Bukgung Ryeong reappeared, fuming.
Marching over, he snatched the gourd from Bu Eunseol’s hand.
Like a man dying of thirst, he began guzzling the wine from the jug.
“Phew.” After downing three bowls in a row, Bukgung Ryeong shouted irritably, “You’ve ruined years of my discipline!”
Gulping another bowl, he said with a bewildered expression, “You heartless fool! You were going to drink all this fine wine alone?”
Bukgung Ryeong loved wine as much as Bu Eunseol did.
Though he had abstained to clear his mind, seeing Bu Eunseol boldly drinking century-old yellow wine was too much to resist.
“What? Now you’re trying to drag me to Majeon? My reputation’s already tarnished enough.”
“That’s a dull joke,” Bu Eunseol said calmly. “Who’d invite a grumpy old man like you?”
“W-what?”
“Besides, the false accusations from Ghost Island have already been cleared, haven’t they?”
Snatching the gourd back, Bu Eunseol took another long swig.
With a satisfied smack of his lips, he asked, “Whether it’s discipline or whatever, why are you moping around in the back hills of someone else’s estate?”
“Hmph. I was wandering the martial world quietly when that needle-wielding old man said this place could ease my troubles.”
“Troubles?”
“There,” Bukgung Ryeong said, pointing to a cave behind his hut.
On its walls were faint traces of sword techniques, carved with a sharp blade.
This was where the Seven-Finger Demon Blade, Bu Zhanyang, and Needle King Jongri Sahyeon had first clashed.
Bu Eunseol glanced at the stone wall casually and asked, “So, did you gain anything?”
“Gain? All I got was more frustration.”
“Why’s that?”
Bukgung Ryeong’s eyes darkened as he gazed at the sharp marks in the cave. “There’s a reason.”
“I see.” An ordinary person would have pressed for details, but Bu Eunseol asked nothing.
They simply passed the wine jug back and forth, emptying it.
After some time, Bukgung Ryeong, staring blankly at the moonlight, sighed. “Why don’t you ask anything?”
“What do you mean?”
“Since you came all this way, shouldn’t you make some grand offer or tell me to follow you?” Clearing his throat, he continued, “Didn’t you come because you heard I’m leaving the martial world?”
“Nonsense. Whether you leave or stay, what’s it to me?” Bu Eunseol said, looking up at the moonlight. “Besides, haven’t you always walked the martial world alone? Why make a fuss about leaving now?”
“Huh?”
“The martial world is a place those entangled in grudges can’t escape. I stay because I’m one of them.” With a wistful expression, Bu Eunseol gazed at the distant sky and said in a low voice, “But you, old man, can leave whenever you want, can’t you?”
‘This guy.’
Bukgung Ryeong felt a strange stir.
For a young Majeon master like Bu Eunseol to see through his hidden heart, kept secret his entire life.
Bukgung Ryeong had wandered the martial world alone, doing good deeds to avoid forming grudges and to leave freely when the time came, with only the pride of upholding martial justice.
“You’ve got a knack for reading people’s minds,” Bukgung Ryeong said, taking a deep breath with a resolute expression.
For the first time, he began to share the thoughts he’d kept buried, not with someone from the righteous faction he’d always trusted, but with a young master of Majeon.
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