Soyak asked nothing more.

It was enough—just as he had asked nothing more of her.

“…A clear reason, then.”

“Something like that.”

Eunsong opened his hand and withdrew the inner energy he’d cast.
The sounds of the world seeped back in.

“So… what will you do now, sir?”

“Well, first I should tell you to fetch your things.”

“I only have one thing.”

“Bring it.”

Soyak turned and left the room.
When the other maids at the washbasin asked why she was already wiping off her makeup, she didn’t answer.
When the older girls in the little shared room looked up at her—off-duty and curious—she ignored them.
Only the thing beneath her neatly folded bedding mattered.

There lay a sword wrapped in cloth.
Falling Blossom Tranquil Edge.

Her father’s relic, and the Flower-Halo Sect’s sacred heirloom.

It was time to return to who she really was.
The life of a little maid was over.
From here on, she would live as a martial artist.

How many in the Central Plains die by the sword each day?
Surely more than the number of maids who perish.
Even if you tried to do the math…

Those who grip a blade die sooner than those who grip a bucket.

But Cheon Soyak took up the sword again.
Through the thick cloth, she felt the hard line of the scabbard.
She stepped back out into the hall.

Waiting there…
was the Gwak Family’s head, Gwak Dowon.

“You’ve barely been on duty for two quarters of the hour—what are you doing here? You’ve wiped your face, too! And where’s your hair ornament?”

“…Ah.”

Instead of an excuse, she unwrapped the cloth.
A sword as long and slender as she was tall.
The famed relic notorious as the blade that does not draw.

“A sword? Where did you get that?”

“It’s always been mine.”

“Bring it here!”

Greed flashed in Gwak Dowon’s eyes.
The Gwak Family was a middling house in Sichuan with shallow arts.
With his paltry eye, he couldn’t possibly know what this sword was.
He’d only judged its value from the glossy black sheath and the silverwork of thin, twig-like filigree.

Martial folk go weak at the knees for divine weapons.
Old, rare, richly adorned—
such a sword could be sold anywhere.

“This is mine.”

“You are our property!”

“I intend to quit as of today.”

His brows warped into a sour knot.

“Hah? Do you know how much I’ve spent to feed and house you here?”

“I’ve eaten so little I haven’t grown a handspan in four years, and I’ve slept less than I’ve wrung rags. How much could you possibly have spent?”

“Silence!”

“You’re the one making a scene, my lord.”

Cheon Soyak hugged the sword to her chest—
a gesture that said she would not give it up.
The sight only stoked his greed.

His eyes glittered.
Gwak Dowon stepped in and loomed over her, unmistakably threatening.

“Lay a hand on this sword and I’ll take your wrist for it.”

“What? What did you just say?”

“I said if you touch my father’s keepsake, I’ll take your wrist.”

Gwak Dowon remembered.
That girl’s eyes had always been like that—
black, hollow, unfathomable.
Chilling, and strangely hard to look away from.

He had taken her in on expectations for when she turned nineteen.
Skin pale as first snow at dawn, hair black as ink,
a body born slight and delicate.
Grown, she would be one of the most fragile beauties in the Central Plains.

“Do you know how much I was counting on you?”

“I don’t.”

He ground his teeth.
Then snatched up a mop handle and leveled it at her.

“If you want to keep that pretty face, you’ll stay right here!”

“No. I’m leaving.”

As their quarrel dragged on and on—
clatter, the sliding door opened between them.

Eunsong.

“What’s all this? You’re being very loud.”

“Ah, ah! Nothing to trouble a venerable Daoist of Mount Hua about. A maid who won’t listen, that’s all…”

“If it’s that child, I’m taking her.”

“…What?”

Gwak Dowon’s eyes went round.
Eunsong smiled sidelong, slipped the White Poplar disciple token of Mount Hua from his belt, and tossed it to Cheon Soyak.

“Look closely. A disciple of Mount Hua.”

“Th-this is ridiculous…”

Mount Hua now stood as the sect of the Eternal Bloom.
With the Alliance Leader pressing down on the Central Plains,
Mount Hua’s power—earned by bleeding the most during the Night Parade of Ten Thousand Demons—was ironclad.
Even a man with no famed epithet could use that clout to push through “ridiculous” things.

“I’m thirty. Long past the age of being some ‘promising youth.’ You know what that means?”

“…Sir?”

“It means I can choose my own disciples. That child is my future disciple. I’ll be taking her to the main sect.”

Gwak Dowon hesitated, then chose.
The Gwak Family was no great house basking in prosperity.
To defy a disciple of the Great Mount Hua Sect here…

He decided that would be unwise.

“In that case, will the Daoist pay her price?”

“What price?”

“The price of her body.”

Eunsong cocked his head, then drew out two taels of silver and flipped them over.

“Will this do?”

“Ha. It pains me to say this to a Daoist, but… hear me out.”

Gwak Dowon handed the silver back and folded his arms.

“What do you think she’ll be like at nineteen?”

“How would I know?”

“Offer her to any power and I’ll profit handsomely. I have an eye for such things. And you tell me to just hand her over?”

Eunsong glanced at Cheon Soyak.

It wasn’t entirely wrong.
It wasn’t hard to imagine the girl five years from now.

“That’s your argument to sway a Mount Hua Daoist?”

“Ha… Didn’t I say I hated to bring it up? Must you really do this?”

“Do you know why I’m wandering as a guest-retainer right now?”

“Why…?”

“To gather children with talent.”

But the head of house still looked slick with desperation—
that desperation to grip power.
His eyes slipped past Eunsong’s shoulder and fixed on Cheon Soyak.
At his signal, the house guards began to shift.

“…Don’t do something you’ll regret, Lord Gwak.”

A quiet warning, ignored.
Instead, he tried to menace Eunsong.

“How could I possibly lay a hand on Eunsong of Mount Hua?”

“Then why are the men with swords drifting closer?”

“It’s just…”

Gwak Dowon’s eyes narrowed.

“…that I think that impudent girl needs to be taught a lesson.”

At that instant, one guard lunged for Cheon Soyak—
hand outstretched, lightfoot arts flaring.

He knew the sword clutched to her chest:
Falling Blossom Tranquil Edge.

Unlike his master, who had no eye for blades, the guard knew its name among warriors—
“the sword that will not draw.”

Which is why no one truly coveted it.
Because it would not draw.
So he relaxed his guard,
certain it would never come free—

Skk—.

The sound of steel slicing flesh.
Cheon Soyak parted the man’s forearm cleanly, straight down the line.
Falling Blossom Tranquil Edge slid from her small grip with no resistance at all, its black blade bared.

It was a flawless rising cut.
No technique name—just impeccable form.
Blood spattered her clothes and face.
Even as the guard collapsed clutching his arm, Cheon Soyak didn’t so much as knit her brows.

“…They say the martial world keeps strict accounts of favors and grudges, sir.”

“Yes. That’s what it is.”

“Then if I price out this grievance, would there be any issue with me taking this man’s head?”

The scabbard—so long she couldn’t draw while holding it—had tumbled across the floor where she’d flicked it away.
She picked it up and slid it at her belt.
A long sword ill-matched to a small girl.
She gave the blade a brisk snap to shed the blood along its edge.

Eunsong flicked a glance at the wounded guard.
With the flesh between forefinger and middle finger split to the web, that arm could do nothing.
As a warrior, he’d likely have to retire.

That was enough.

“If you take his head, his comrades and family will hunt you.”

“That would be tiresome.”

“Then leave it. He can’t harm you further regardless.”

“Yes.”

A master’s first lesson.

“Well then—anyone else?”

From that single stroke, Eunsong had measured Cheon Soyak.
At the very least, the threshold of the Apex realm.

Fourteen.
A girl who hadn’t had even four steady years of proper training.
Wielding a sword that didn’t suit her body—
and still, that skill.

He’d found a true rough gem.
More than worthy to join his “disciples.”

Gwak Dowon hadn’t expected bloodshed. His expression was frozen.
His eyes rolled, calculating—
but not for long.

Because his gaze met Cheon Soyak’s.

“My lord.”

A voice cool and clear.
A long sword in her hand, a bead of blood clinging to the tip.
Instinct made him step back.

“Whether you send me off nicely or not, I already belong to the martial world.”

“Th-that…”

“And I hear the martial world keeps strict accounts of favors and grudges.”

The inner energy flowing through her small body wasn’t wholly her own.
But just now, she needed to show momentum.
Cheon Soyak loosened every coil of power coiled at her core.

In that moment, all the muddled fragrances filling the Gwak estate lost their presence.
A sweet, heavy plum-blossom scent flooded the inner yard—
richer than anything one could smell even at Mount Hua’s main peak.

Cheon Soyak’s black hair rippled,
stirred by the force and energy pouring off her.

“If you wish to make an enemy of me—go ahead.”

The sword in her hand leveled at Gwak Dowon’s chin.
Murderous will, thick as night, gathered at the tip—
so sharp it stung the skin.

He understood by instinct.
One move.
With a single form, she could take his head.

“…G-go. J-just… go…”

Only then did Cheon Soyak sheath the blade.
She tossed Falling Blossom Tranquil Edge to Eunsong for safekeeping—
then, unable to withstand the surging energy, coughed blood and collapsed.

“Damn.”

Eunsong caught her slight body fast.
Her breath was ragged; her pallor told him her meridians were damaged.

So strong an inner power for one so young… this is…

This happens when one takes elixirs and fails to circulate properly,
or receives a forced infusion of another’s energy and never tempers it into one’s own.
Foreign power pools in the body.

You can draw it out to use—
but it rampages the moment you lose control.

So that’s why she hadn’t dared flee till now.

Eunsong sighed.
He should have stepped in sooner.
He’d trusted that clean cut and simply watched her vent her qi—
but her cultivation realm hadn’t caught up to her swordsmanship.

“Is there a doctor here?”

“Past that alley over there… Wait, you truly mean to take her?”

“Lord Gwak—did you not give your word to the child? That you’d let her go.”

“That—”

He had cause to feel wronged.
He’d taken in a Mount Hua man as a guest, and the man was walking off with a maid.
A maid who happened to be the Flower-Halo Sect girl he’d been eyeing.

If we’re honest, who broke propriety first?
Still, Eunsong was the one pressing him now, and Eunsong was the one frowning.

“Here and now, before a disciple of Mount Hua, will a man speak out of both sides of his mouth?”

Gwak Dowon went pale again.
For once, the weight of “disciple of Mount Hua” did its work.

“A-all right, fine! T-take her, then. But the two taels…”

“I made no bargain with you.”

“Ah…”

Leaving Gwak Dowon standing there, stupefied,
Eunsong walked out through the inner court of the Gwak estate.

Chapter 2

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