Chapter 162

“Whatever it is, I’ll accept it—since I know it won’t be an ordinary gift—but I won’t place much meaning on it.”

“May I ask why?”

“Because I believe a proper game against you, Elder Cheon, would be the truest gift.”

“Hrrhrrhrrhrr... You truly are to my liking. You really are.”

Still laughing heartily, the Celestial Daoist turned and began to walk away alongside Yang Uiji, and before long, the two vanished from view.

I stood there in silence for a while, staring at the place where he had disappeared.

Everything I had thought during our conversation had now turned into certainty.

The Celestial Daoist knew Yu Cheong’s true nature.

He also knew what Yu Cheong was trying to accomplish.

In my previous life—

I had two fathers.

One was Seol Jungcheon, and the other... was the Celestial Daoist.

He had been my goal in life, the point I aspired to reach.

Even if, in the end, he abandoned me—I understood.

Just as I had cherished him, I believe he cherished me too.

There must have been a reason for abandoning me. And I had never tried to ask what it was.

After all, I had no strong desire to continue living back then.

But now—

Knowing what held me back,

Knowing what I had been seeking all this time—

Even so, why had he never once given me a hint?

He must have known that my father’s death was connected to Yu Cheong.

He must have known that the grotesque end of the descendants of the Extreme North was all connected to Yu Cheong as well.

So why didn’t he tell me?

Why did he hide it from me?

Was it because I wasn’t a match for Yu Cheong?

Because Yu Cheong was that dangerous?

That couldn’t be it.

Even if I came to understand Yu Cheong’s true nature later, I still wouldn’t place him above the Celestial Daoist.

Yu Cheong may be extraordinary, but the Celestial Daoist is a genius for whom the word “extraordinary” is far too lacking.

I clenched my fist tightly.

The Celestial Daoist.

The Original Blood Sect.

Yu Cheong.

And that “Heaven Beyond Heaven” whom even the Celestial Daoist addresses with honorifics—

I intend to find out what that truly is, in this life.

***

With every step, they crossed not ten, but dozens of jang.

The Celestial Daoist and Yang Uiji walked in silence for half an incense stick’s time.

Only after they entered the forest paths of Eumbaeksan did their pace begin to slow.

Yang Uiji cautiously opened her mouth.

“...My Lord, I apologize for the impertinence, but may I ask you a question?”

“Hrrhrr... It’s written all over your face what you want to say.”

After a brief hesitation, she could no longer hold back.

“That man just now... he’s only seventeen, and yet how can he face you so boldly? More than that... not only did you not get angry at his disrespect, but rather...”

“You want to say that I reflected on myself.”

“...Yes... In all my twenty years of serving you, it was the first time I’ve heard you say such a thing.”

The Celestial Daoist smiled. His white hair swayed gently in the wind.

“When you observe how trees grow, you learn. A young sapling bends easily in the wind, while an old tree hardly sways at all. But one day, a sapling says to the ancient tree: ‘You’re too stiff. If you surrender to the wind, you’ll become stronger.’ What do you make of that?”

“...I think it’s foolish. What could a young sapling know, speaking to a tree that has endured for centuries...”

“Hrrhrrhrr... But you see, sometimes, special saplings are born into the world. Still young, but carrying the wisdom of centuries within.”

Yang Uiji looked puzzled by his words.

“Can such saplings... really exist?”

“To assume they cannot—that would be arrogance, wouldn’t it?”

“...”

“The world is vast. Only by leaving all possibilities open can your perspective truly expand.”

Even so, she still didn’t seem convinced.

Both Seol Unhwi and the Celestial Daoist—they were incomprehensible.

To such a Yang Uiji, the Celestial Daoist asked,

“Did you see Seol Unhwi’s eyes?”

“His... eyes?”

“They don’t hold mere youth—but the depth of someone who has endured many lifetimes.”

The Celestial Daoist looked up at the sky for a moment.

“Do you believe in absolute truths in this world?”

“I’ve always thought... your words were absolute truth, My Lord.”

“Hrrhrr... And that’s why you’re still stuck at the Manifestation of Limitless Extremes. True Dao is not something you receive from another—it’s something you must discover yourself.”

Yang Uiji’s eyes widened.

“That man did not seek Dao from me. Rather, he came to show me his own. When I said I reflected upon myself, it wasn’t mere humility—it was genuine awe at the Dao he revealed to me.”

“But he dared to scold you—Sect Master of the Original Blood Sect and supreme master of the martial world...”

“Hrrhrrhrr... That’s precisely what makes him special. He isn’t blinded by rank or power. He simply follows the path he believes in. Even if it means risking his life, he doesn’t waver. In that moment, he truly believed himself to be right. And...”

The Celestial Daoist trailed off.

In that brief encounter, he had felt much from Unhwi.

Two things left a strong impression—

Disappointment.

And worry.

Why disappointment? Why worry?

They had never even met before.

“...Are you alright?”

“More than alright.”

The Celestial Daoist’s expression subtly shifted.

“Guardian Yang.”

“Yes, My Lord?”

“It seems that young man wasn’t lying to me.”

The Celestial Daoist’s gaze turned toward a dried-up spring.

Nearby were the charred remains of something that had been burned. And just beyond the thickets—traces of an underground facility.

“I’ll go confirm it.”

At his words, Yang Uiji quickly stepped forward and disappeared into the foliage, descending into the underground space.

Some time later, she returned—with a grim expression.

The Celestial Daoist asked,

“What did you find?”

“...He was telling the truth.”

“The funeral too?”

“Yes.”

The Celestial Daoist looked toward the direction of Yangryeong Province with a complex expression.

“If it were you, Guardian Yang, what would you have done?”

“...I would’ve brought back the corpse of the child who had become a Poison-Soul.”

“And why?”

“Because without that, it’s only a half-measure.”

Unhwi had already killed the leader of the Blood-Spirit Fivefold Lords, three of their Blood-Souled, the poison masters of Viper Valley, and even one of Cheonsa-eum’s disciples.

In plain terms, this was already a cause for war between the Original Blood Sect and Everlasting Snow Palace.

To suppress it, one needed leverage.

But Unhwi had let go of that leverage.

“Would you have been able to do the same?”

“...I don’t think it would’ve been easy.”

“Not easy, no... Let’s say ten thousand martial artists were placed in the same situation. Then I believe that all but one would’ve made the same choice.”

“...And that one is that young man?”

“That’s right.”

Today, the Celestial Daoist had seen a man with the soul of a true martial artist.

“Like how all rivers flow to the sea, the world is ever-changing. But even in a flowing river, there must be a center.”

“...”

“And from what I’ve seen... that center is likely Seol Gongja.”

Yang Uiji knew one thing for certain: she would never forget this day—not even at the moment of her death.

That’s how deeply this shook her.

Had the Celestial Daoist ever praised someone this highly before?

Never. Not even once.

Suddenly, she grew curious.

“Then... what kind of gift will you prepare for him? He said he places no value on material things...”

The Celestial Daoist’s eyes shone like a deep lake.

“In the end, everything people seek in life boils down to three things. Power, wealth, and knowledge. And since Seol Gongja has no desire for the first two...”

“You’re going to give him knowledge?”

“Hrrhrrhrr... No. I’m planning to give him something even more valuable.”

“Something more valuable...?”

“A chance.”

“...A chance?”

“A chance to prove his Dao.”

Yang Uiji asked nothing further. She knew she couldn’t begin to fathom the depths of the Celestial Daoist’s intent—and had no desire to try.

To her, the Celestial Daoist was the sky itself. How could she ever doubt the sky?

“And Guardian Yang.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

“No matter how taken you are with Seol Gongja, leave him be for now.”

Yang Uiji smiled sheepishly.

“...You noticed?”

“I did. But there’s something you didn’t notice.”

“I didn’t?”

“Even when a sword was at his neck, he didn’t flinch.”

“...My Lord, no matter how highly you think of him, he’s only at the Three Flowers Gathering Purity stage. And very young. Is it even possible to react in time?”

The Celestial Daoist burst out laughing.

“I thought the same. But I was wrong.”

“...”

“He did react. No one else present saw your hand, not even for a moment. But for the briefest instant—he looked at it.”

“...You mean... he could’ve avoided it?”

The Celestial Daoist nodded, and Yang Uiji was stunned.

“That... can’t be...”

“Do you truly think so?”

“...Yes...”

The Celestial Daoist patted her shoulder.

“I used to think that too.”

What Unhwi had shown was much like the Celestial Daoist’s own—

No, not merely similar. It was nearly identical.

A smile crept to the Celestial Daoist’s lips.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen such a fascinating martial artist since Yu Cheong. But his uniqueness... surpasses even Yu Cheong’s.”

“...”

“The heart I thought unshakable was stirred today... That’s proof I haven’t grown too old yet, don’t you think?”

Yang Uiji lowered her head.

Her heart still brimming with questions—but one truth was now clear:

Seol Unhwi was a new kind of being in the martial world.

And even the Celestial Daoist was watching him closely.

She didn’t know how that young man would feel about it—but she could say this:

To be watched by the Celestial Daoist—

Was terrifying.

“Let’s go.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

***

That night.

I sat in the main hall, quietly staring at the empty Go board.

“...My Lord, are you alright?”

At the sudden voice, I turned my head. It was Wonyang.

“Do I look unwell?”

“...Not really, but a lot has happened lately. The Celestial Daoist came... and so did the Lord of the Sichuan Alliance...”

As if I wouldn’t know what she was thinking.

“Are you afraid?”

Wonyang shook her head.

“I’m not afraid. Not as ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) long as I’m with you, My Lord. But... I am worried.”

Then—

“There’s something you’ll need to do from now on. Want to guess what it is?”

“...Raise my cultivation?”

I shook my head.

“Not the correct answer—but you’re close.”

“...Not correct?”

“Cultivation stage is used as an absolute metric—but in truth, it’s relative.”

“...Then...?”

“I’m saying that the logic of heaven and earth isn’t decided by how high one’s cultivation is.”