A Modern Man Who Got Transmigrated Into the Murim World

In the end, Huoshan Dragon Qing Yunso was left speechless by Zhuo Hui’s shameless attitude, spending meaningless time without achieving anything.

However, Qing Yunso couldn’t afford to waste time indefinitely.

He carefully examined the tents of the Cao Family, where the Jian Chong (Sword Chamber) was located, but found nothing unusual.

It was only then that he realized how thoroughly Zhuo Hui had prepared for the inspection by the Meng’s envoys.

The only place he had not yet examined was the wooden boxes in the corner of Zhuo Hui’s private quarters. However, since Zhuo Hui and Zhang Yilong were both fast asleep, Qing Yunso couldn’t risk entering the room carelessly.

Reluctantly, he sat cross-legged outside Zhuo Hui’s private quarters and closed his eyes in meditation, allowing himself to soak in the peaceful mountain night. About three hours later, as dawn approached and the sky began to lighten, Qing Yunso spoke politely.

“Guanyin Buddha, have you been coughing?”

A while later, Zhuo Hui emerged from the tent, frowning as he adjusted his clothes and fixed a sharp gaze on Qing Yunso.

“Hmm…”

The world-renowned talent, Huoshan Dragon. Until Zhuo Hui arrived, Qing Yunso was known as the greatest among the late-stage genius martial artists, a rival whom Nan Gong Zhang Ho had carried in his heart as a lifelong opponent. His reputation in the martial world was immense, and Zhuo Hui knew well that those with such reputations possessed exceptional abilities.

Martial genius often meant not only physical traits but also keen intelligence, fast reflexes, and memory—traits that set these individuals apart.

Even Zhang Yilong, who appeared clumsy, was sharp-minded, and his intellect was comparable to that of the legendary strategist Zhuge Yun.

But Zhuo Hui couldn’t sense any extraordinary traits in Qing Yunso. Though Qing Yunso had great fame, Zhuo Hui found no remarkable talent or “business acumen” in him.

This ambiguity about Qing Yunso’s potential made Zhuo Hui continually fidget with the labor contract in his hands.

“What brings you here at the crack of dawn?” Zhuo Hui asked.

Qing Yunso hesitated, still troubled by the lingering thoughts of his previous encounter with Zhuo Hui, and struggled to maintain his composure, particularly when facing Zhuo Hui’s piercingly transparent eyes.

“…Well…” Qing Yunso hesitated.

Zhuo Hui’s piercing, clear eyes, which had effortlessly deflected Qing Yunso’s best attacks, caused him to falter again.

“If you called, surely there’s something you need?” Zhuo Hui’s voice was cold.

Qing Yunso, trying to calm himself, said, “Guanyin Buddha, I have inspected everything except…”

Zhuo Hui’s brow furrowed as he asked, “So you want to inspect our quarters? Didn’t you already inspect this place first?”

“I want to examine the wooden chest…”

At last, Qing Yunso revealed his true intention, and Zhuo Hui responded in a blunt tone, “Ah, the chest? Of course, you can see it. Come on in.”

Once inside the tent, Qing Yunso carefully opened the chest and inspected its contents, but…

“Mm…” Inside, the chest was completely empty. The silver had long been removed by Zhang Yilong through the back door.

“Bring us two cups of cold tea,” Zhuo Hui said.

“Yes, Chairman,” the attendant respectfully replied before stepping out.

Zhuo Hui suddenly smiled faintly and turned to Qing Yunso. “The affairs of the Meng are truly tiresome, aren’t they? They make so many people uncomfortable.”

“I… apologize,” Qing Yunso said, feeling uncomfortable.

Zhuo Hui gestured toward the entrance of the Jian Chong. “By the way, aren’t you interested in the Jian Chong? As a sword master of the Huoshan Sect, it’s natural to be curious.”

“Guanyin Buddha, as an inspector for the Meng, I’m not here to pursue personal interests,” Qing Yunso replied, trying to remain composed.

Zhuo Hui grinned, showing his teeth. “You’re curious about the Jian Chong, aren’t you?”

“…” Qing Yunso, as a sword master from the Central Plains, couldn’t help but admire the legendary swordsmanship and accomplishments of the great sword gods.

“Let’s go. I’ll show you,” Zhuo Hui said.

Qing Yunso, already feeling confused, reluctantly followed Zhuo Hui to the Jian Chong.

Inside, the bright light from numerous torches illuminated the sword chamber, and Qing Yunso’s face immediately showed awe and admiration.

“Guanyin Buddha… Ah…” The walls of the Jian Chong were covered with countless sword marks, and seeing these marks in person, Qing Yunso’s heart filled with wonder.

Zhuo Hui observed Qing Yunso’s reaction with interest.

If Qing Yunso were truly a top-tier talent, he would recognize the exceptional nature of the Jian Chong immediately.

Qing Yunso, as if entranced, ran his hands along the walls, his face full of reverence and solemnity, as though he was engraving every detail into his heart.

Then, he stopped before one particular wall, his face lighting up with amazement.

“Ah… This…!”

Zhuo Hui’s expression shifted slightly as he too noticed what Qing Yunso was staring at.

“Do you recognize what these marks are?” Zhuo Hui asked.

Qing Yunso, trembling with excitement, ran his hands over the wall and said in awe, “These are undoubtedly traces of a mental training technique! The marks must have been left by attempts to strike at these spots using purely physical ability. It’s a monumental feat of training!”

“Oh?” Zhuo Hui responded, intrigued.

Without even a footnote, just one glance at the wall covered with countless tiny dots and Qing Yunso was able to immediately deduce their meaning?

“Ah, such a long and arduous practice, I can’t even begin to imagine it. If one could complete such a precise point-striking technique, it would mean achieving perfect self-control over the body!” Qing Yunso marveled.

Zhuo Hui felt a chill run down his spine upon hearing Qing Yunso’s insight, as Qing Yunso had immediately grasped not only the training process but also the purpose behind it.

As Qing Yunso continued to inspect the wall covered in points, he suddenly noticed a series of sword marks falling in a consistent pattern, and his face showed even more shock.

“Guanyin Buddha, what… is this…?”

“Hmm? What is it?” Zhuo Hui asked, noticing the intensity in Qing Yunso’s voice.

Qing Yunso’s hands were trembling.

“C-could this… be a trace of varying sword speed based on the weight of the sword?” Qing Yunso asked, almost breathlessly.

Zhuo Hui’s expression stiffened, a mild shock crossing his face. He understood the core of what Qing Yunso was saying, even if he didn’t know the term “gravity.”

The marks were clearly the result of precise calculations factoring in gravitational acceleration, adjusted for a specific vector of motion, derived from a formula dividing internal energy to produce controlled sword movements.

Qing Yunso’s face paled, his fear becoming evident.

“This is truly terrifying… This dedication to swordsmanship… I never imagined such a thing…” Qing Yunso murmured in disbelief.

Qing Yunso, like Zhuo Hui, was from a famous sword school, Huoshan Sect, which was known for wielding the Illusion Sword. Even in such a school, it was unimaginable to come across this type of rigorous training.

Most discussions in swordsmanship focused on the form or trajectory of the sword, but never on the force driving the sword itself, as each practitioner’s strength and internal energy were unique, making such calculations seem unnecessary.

Why? Because people’s physical strength and internal energy differed, making each person’s motion power unique.

While striving to maximize one’s own physical capabilities could be said to align with the martial goal, this was a domain that should not be tampered with until one had fully grasped sword form.

This was a path that quickly led to “cultivation deviation.”

“Magic sword…” Qing Yunso muttered under his breath, as if entranced.

In the unorthodox schools of swordsmanship, there were occasionally such research practices, as their sword styles followed the principle of extreme efficiency.

However, what was the essence of orthodox swordsmanship?

The Plum Blossom Sword of Huoshan, the Taiji Sword of Wudang, and the Emperor’s Sword of Nan Gong—all are paths, ideals toward which one aspires.

A sword cannot achieve true enlightenment unless its spirit is cultivated properly.

The thousand-year history of orthodox schools has endured precisely because of this intrinsic ideal.

But if one becomes obsessed only with the physical force behind the sword, without understanding the underlying principle, they would become a “sword demon,” a powerful master for sure, but one who could never be followed by future generations.

A sword school, like a religion, requires a fundamental philosophy and ideal to move the hearts of future generations.

Zhuo Hui understood Qing Yunso’s confusion, but he couldn’t help but feel a slight anger at Qing Yunso’s mention of a “magic sword.”

“A magic sword? What do you mean by that?” Zhuo Hui asked, his voice colder.

Qing Yunso, realizing his mistake, hastily apologized.

“Guanyin Buddha, I apologize. I spoke out of turn.”

He had just mentioned “magic sword” in front of a true sword god who had inherited the legacy of the sword masters, an unforgivable mistake.

However, Qing Yunso couldn’t help but freeze when he heard Zhuo Hui’s next words.

“Do you blindly believe in the Huoshan sword?” Zhuo Hui asked, his tone cold.

“…Blindly believe?” Qing Yunso was stunned. Was it possible for someone not to believe in the Huoshan sword?

But the word “blindly” carried such a negative connotation that Qing Yunso could only furrow his brow.

“Your words are too harsh,” Qing Yunso replied, a faint frown on his face.

Zhuo Hui smiled faintly, a small, knowing smirk.

“As soon as I saw the sword marks of the Sword God, I immediately thought it was a form of martial arts power. Could it not be due to Huoshan Meihua’s pride?”

Qing Yunso didn’t deny it.

“Guanyin Buddha, I too was initially full of admiration and awe. To have complete self-control over one’s own body is the dream and aspiration of every martial artist. However…”

“However?”

“If all training in swordsmanship focuses solely on cultivating physical movement power, the swordsmanship will cause one to become obsessed, eventually devolving into a narrow path. Naturally, they will fail to reach the true realm of the sword and become lost in their own obsession.”

Once again, Zhuo Hui let out a small laugh.

“The *Yi* of the sword…”

Certainly, his words were true. The mathematical approach and obsession with interpreting all the swords of the Central Plains were indeed extreme to the point of madness.

But isn’t it precisely those obsessed experts, the ones who deeply immerse themselves in a single field, that become terrifying?

Their unrelenting devotion was something that even the people of the Central Plains couldn’t imagine.

“Moreover, if all these sword marks are part of such training… frankly, I do not understand the swordsmanship of the Sword God.”

At that moment, Zhuo Hui drew his iron sword.

“I’ll show you.”

When he suddenly drew his sword, Qing Yunso was taken aback.

“Guanyin Buddha, I do not mean to deny the Sword God’s martial prowess. It is simply that I cannot understand it. This is due to my limited experience, so please forgive me.”

But Zhuo Hui paid him no mind and swiftly swung his sword.

*Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.*

It was a sequence of moves from the first half of the Twenty-Four Movements Plum Blossom Sword, starting with the light *Tianxiang Mimai* (Thousand Fragrance Fine) without using internal energy, and flowing into *Meihua Fenfen* (Plum Blossom Fragrance) and *Nanhua Buying* (Wild Flower Floating).

As the names suggest, these movements were the quintessence of Huoshan’s Illusion Sword, filled with the highest level of illusionary techniques.

“Watch closely.”

For a moment, Qing Yunso was stunned, almost on the brink of fainting from the sheer skill of the sword technique being executed.

Then Zhuo Hui continued, his swordsmanship still unfolding.

Qing Yunso was not able to fully comprehend every movement of the sword’s path, but one thing was clear: something had been removed and added to the original Huoshan swordsmanship.

“Did you see that?”

“…”

Qing Yunso stood frozen, his mind overwhelmed.

“I’ll slow it down for you.”

Once again, Zhuo Hui began moving his sword more slowly.

It was clearly still *Meihua Fenfen* and *Tianxiang Mimai*, but every point in the movement felt different.

In that instant, Qing Yunso felt a shock that seemed to raise the hairs all over his body.

He stood there, his face pale as though his very soul had left him.

“Ah… ah…”

“Now, do you see it?”

Qing Yunso finally understood.

What he was seeing was the perfect form of the Huoshan swordsmanship.

Zhuo Hui sheathed his iron sword and stood with his hands behind his back.

“This is the sword of *Jian Chong* (Sword Essence).”

*Tianxiang Mimai*.

This particular movement was special to the Plum Blossom Sword practitioners of Huoshan.

It was the first technique they learned in the Twenty-Four Movements Plum Blossom Sword, and it represented the essence of Huoshan’s Illusion Sword.

The greatest swordsman in Huoshan’s history, Feng Yangjin, had famously said that the essence of Huoshan wasn’t *Zihua* (Purple Mist), but *Tianxiang* (Thousand Fragrance), which was a shocking statement at the time.

While everyone knew that *Tianxiang* carried the essence of Huoshan, the path to understanding it was vast and difficult, making it feel almost unattainable for the Plum Blossom Sword practitioners.

But Qing Yunso, as he observed the *Tianxiang Mimai* displayed by Zhuo Hui, felt as though he was witnessing the legendary *Jinghuanse Liuyao* (Extreme Illusion Fine Flow Radiance).

*Tianxiang Mimai*.

*Jinghuanse Liuyao*.

It was a technique that only the pure-hearted Feng Yangjin was said to have been able to perform.

Suddenly, Qing Yunso’s trembling voice turned to Zhuo Hui.

“Guanyin Buddha… could you show me that *Tianxiang Mimai* again, using your true internal energy, without holding back?”

Zhuo Hui nodded casually, as though it were no trouble.

“Of course, I can.”

In an instant, Zhuo Hui’s iron sword began to blur.

*Swishhhh.*

The sword began moving, leaving countless afterimages as it traced a soft curve.

It advanced, curved, shuddered, and then disappeared.

It moved elegantly, swirled, and finally gathered in midair.

What Qing Yunso saw was all that he could perceive.

*Swishhhhhhhhh.*

The illusionary sword formed the sword essence.

*Tianxiang*?

Could such a myriad of changes be measured by the number one thousand?

If the Sword God had used the internal energy of Huoshan’s *Meihuashengong* to display *Tianxiang Mimai*, how could only a thousand fragrances have scattered?

When the changes reached the point that human eyes could no longer perceive them, Zhuo Hui’s swordsmanship seemed to completely vanish.

Qing Yunso was beyond exhilaration or praise—his heart was now filled with awe.

“How… how is this possible? A sword technique like this…?”

It was a sight that could not be believed unless one saw it with their own eyes.

“Hehe, it’s the power of mathematics.”

“…Pardon?”

*Mathematics*?

Could it really be the art of calculation that made such an intricate illusionary sword possible?

“The swordsmanship of the Central Plains has many issues. The main confusion among my disciples comes from the formulas left behind by the ancestors.”

“Guanyin Buddha, why are the formulas a problem?” Qing Yunso asked, puzzled.

Zhuo Hui sighed lightly and continued speaking.

“Usually, the ancestors, in the moment of their enlightenment, tried to express their realizations hastily, leaving behind fragments of words they thought of in the moment. For anyone who wasn’t there, these are difficult to interpret.”

“Hmm…”

This was an experience of Jo Hwi.

When he received the martial arts of the Nangong family from the Cheongcheon Sword Alliance, he had to sweat to memorize the many incantations for each sword technique.

However, carving these incantations into his mind didn’t necessarily help with manifesting the sword moves.

It is said that even the Sword Saint himself, when leaving incantations, was in a state of trance.

Therefore, simply because the trajectory of the sword draws a smooth curve, like a swallow, they would describe it as “fluttering, soaring…” or something along those lines.

When later generations tried to interpret this, they would say “fluttering” referred to a chaotic shape, and “soaring” meant a swallow flying in a parabola.

So a swallow is fluttering chaotically and suddenly traces a parabolic flight path? And they want to apply that to a sword technique?

No wonder different sword masters would interpret it in their own ways.

Thus, most sects teach their disciples based on diagrams.

There are two types of diagrams: the “Dynamic Diagram” (動形圖解), which shows the movements and actions of the sword master as they perform the techniques, and the “Sword Form Diagram” (劒式圖解), which represents the sword’s shape and structure geometrically with lines, points, and shapes.

“Now the sword schools of the Central Plains must be honest with themselves. They treat the incantations left by their ancestors as if they have some profound meaning, but in reality, it’s all nonsense. Sure, there may be a rare few who can coincide with a flash of genius and fully comprehend the fragment of wisdom left by their masters, but the odds of that happening are too low.”

“That’s… nonsense?”

“I’ve heard that even the incantations of the Hwasan School are incredibly pretentious. Am I wrong?”

“Wulang Subul, that’s…”

Cheong Unso tried to argue, but instead bit his lip in silence.

Indeed, the Hwasan and Wudang schools were notorious for their complicated and esoteric incantations. The Hwasan incantations were especially known for being difficult because of the nature of Hwasan’s sword techniques, which often involved illusionary swordplay.

All those elaborate movements were recorded in seemingly cryptic, scholarly descriptions, making it inevitable that later disciples would struggle.

“The Sword of Sword Totality focuses only on diagrams. We should stop relying on the insights and advice left by our ancestors. We should just treat those damn incantations as references!”

Given that the sect’s traditions and laws were still in place, ignoring the teachings of the ancestors would seem disrespectful. But Cheong Unso couldn’t dismiss Jo Hwi’s words.

After all, they were the teachings of the Sword God!

“Now, take a look.”

Jo Hwi scraped the floor with his sword and began drawing the diagram for the “Thousand Fragrances” sword technique (千香密密).

After a brief moment, the floor was filled with dots, lines, and shapes.

“Is this Hwasan’s ‘Thousand Fragrances’?”

Cheong Unso stared in disbelief at the diagram on the floor.

“Wulang Subul…!”

How could Jo Hwi, the Small Sword Saint, know the Hwasan diagram in such detail?

It was truly an exact replica of the “Thousand Fragrances” diagram, not a single mistake.

It felt as if he were looking at the original diagram from the Hwasan Seongcheongjeon (the sacred hall of Hwasan) where the famous “Twenty-four Plum Blossom Sword” technique was created.

“Watch carefully now.”

Jo Hwi began modifying the diagram.

He erased dozens of dots and added curves, filling the gaps with arcs.

“Can you recognize it?”

Cheong Unso froze, his body as still as a statue.

The modifications Jo Hwi made were subtle. He didn’t change much—just erased a few dots and added a few new lines.

Yet it was impossible to believe, even though he was seeing it with his own eyes.

What he saw was a new level of “Thousand Fragrances.”

The complexity of the original diagram had been reduced. The unnecessary points and lines disappeared, making the technique appear far more fluid and versatile.

The added lines seemed to awaken something long dormant, giving the entire diagram a clarity, as if walking through a fog that suddenly cleared.

Cheong Unso, in awe, continued to stare at the transformation.

“Just a moment…”

Cheong Unso unleashed the Plum Blossom Vital Force (梅花生功) from his sword.

It was Hwasan’s famed “Plum Blossom Vital Force.”

Then, his sword moved through the air.

Swoosh…

Like a gentle stream, his sword moved forward, rapidly becoming chaotic.

An elegant fragrance of plum blossoms filled the air, and the entire room seemed filled with a dazzling illusionary sword aura.

For a moment, the room became as bright as daylight, filled with countless sword glows, reflecting off the walls like burning torches.

Whooshhh—

His sword finally transformed.

The true form of the “Thousand Fragrances” was manifested, and the scent of a thousand plum blossoms filled the world.

“Haah… haah…”

Cheong Unso was drenched in sweat after completing the sword technique but had a blissful smile on his face.

It was an incredible feeling of euphoria, a blessing that came to someone who had broken through to a new level.

At that moment, Cheong Unso realized that what the legendary Hwang Yangjin had said about the “Thousand Fragrances” possessing a purity equal to the “Purple Mist” was undoubtedly true.

“Haha!”

Jo Hwi burst out laughing.

Honestly, it was like feeding Cheong Unso with a spoon. But still, it was rare for someone to immediately internalize the new diagram after seeing it once.

In terms of swordsmanship, his genius was undeniable.

“Hmmm… A genius focused entirely on swordsmanship…”

Even though Jo Hwi’s talent was limited to martial arts, it wasn’t entirely useless.

With a meaningful smile, Jo Hwi spoke again.

“I could teach you the ‘Plum Blossom Flutters’ as well.”

“Really?”

Cheong Unso’s eyes lit up with greed, as his initial doubts faded away.

“Of course. It’s originally part of Hwasan’s sword techniques. Saying that I would teach you is a bit of a stretch.”

The original form of the technique may have been from Hwasan, but advancing and elevating it to a new level was an entirely different matter.

That was the insight of a true sword master.

“Wulang Subul, thank you. I humbly request your teachings.”

Cheong Unso, respectfully bowing, had his eyes full of anticipation.

Jo Hwi looked at him sharply, his gaze keen like a hawk’s.

“I can teach you all the techniques, you know.”

“Are you talking about ‘Falling Blossoms and Red Clouds’ as well?”

Cheong Unso trembled in excitement, as if he were about to burst out in joy.

“Yes. But there’s one small condition.”

“What condition?”

Cheong Unso’s heart dropped as he imagined the worst.

Jo Hwi, leader of the Sword Master Association, was known for his greed, and if he made an unreasonable request, Cheong Unso, as a Taoist, would be in no position to refuse.

“Well, when Taoists reach a certain age, they go out to the martial world, right?”

“Yes, that’s true…”

Jo Hwi grinned.

“At that time, I’d like you to help with a little task for our association.”

“A task…?”

“Oh, don’t worry. It’ll be a small task, nothing difficult. If you agree, I’ll let you know the details right away.”

“…”

What kind of request was this, without even telling him what the task was?

Cheong Unso quietly muttered a prayer.

“Wulang Subul… A Taoist should only seek the Dao, not covet worldly wealth or profits. If you wish to assist me, please always keep that in mind…”

“I’m telling you, it’s not like that!”

The thought of asking a Taoist for worldly business was absurd.

Jo Hwi couldn’t possibly ask such a foolish thing.

“Wulang Subul, then what kind of task could a Taoist like me do in your association?”

Cheong Unso, growing increasingly nervous, had a bad feeling.

Finally, Jo Hwi spoke with frustration.

“Don’t you want to learn the sword techniques or not?”

“No, of course I do!”

Cheong Unso quickly panicked, as if he had just been robbed of a toy.

A pure Taoist monk from the mountains!

Jo Hwi stepped closer, patting Cheong Unso’s back and pulling out a work contract from his sleeve.

“I’ll pay you twenty silver taels a month. Where else would you find such an opportunity in this recession?”

“…Recession?”

The modern way of speaking that came out as a habit without thinking made Jo Hwi feel awkward.

“There, there is such a thing. Anyway, you’re signing, right?”

“Buddha of Infinite Life, I will do so. But please, do not make me do anything that goes against the duties of a Taoist.”

“Alright! It’s a deal!”

In the end, Cheong Unso was blinded by Jo Hwi’s 24-style Sword of the Flower and signed the contract.

“Haha! Cheong Dae-ri!”

This marked the birth of Cheong Dae-ri, the martial arts bridgehead of the newly formed Jo Family’s Golden Dragon Brigade (曹家金龍隊), which would eventually come to dominate the Jo Family’s martial arts world.

In front of Daeseokbinggo, Han Seol-hyeon was biting her lip, unable to hide her uneasy feelings. She had taken out her mother’s Baekrangbo (White Wolf Treasure Armor), which she had entrusted to General Lee Yeong-song, and put it on again. She also meticulously arranged herself according to the etiquette of the North Sea.

With a nervous heart, she was now on her way to meet her older brother, who was the head of the Bing Family and the most senior figure in the Bing Clan at this moment.

Marriage.

This was not just a personal matter, but something for which she needed the approval of the elders in her family.

Normally, she would have gone to each of the elders to seek permission, and in the end, she would have needed the consent of the family head, who had been vacant for centuries. However, since the elders were too far away and the position of Bing Family head had been vacant for over a hundred years, she had no choice but to visit her older brother, Han Seol-baek.

At that moment, a man with a wild beard, wearing the insignia of the Jo Family’s Great Assembly, spotted Han Seol-hyeon.

With her beauty that could be described as almost otherworldly, he recognized her immediately.

“Little lady…!”

“I’m here to meet my older brother.”

The man looked troubled.

“Since the master requested the closure of the halls, we are unable to open them recklessly.”

“…When will they open again?”

The man thought for a moment, rolling his eyes.

“Let’s see. They open about once every month… It will be ten days before it opens.”

Han Seol-hyeon quickly became worried.

She didn’t have ten days to spare since she was responsible for overseeing the ice production in Gangseo Province.

“This is a matter of family importance. Could you please open it for me?”

“Well…”

The opening and closing of the Daeseokbinggo was strictly managed, and it was not something a mere worker could decide on.

“If it’s that important…”

Han Seol-hyeon’s face turned slightly red.

“If you’ve heard the news about the sect war, you’ll understand, right?”

“Oh!”

The man’s eyes widened as he suddenly realized and quickly bowed.

The news had spread all over the martial world, that the head of the Jo Family had proposed to Han Seol-hyeon in front of all the warriors who participated in the sect war. She was destined to become the wife of Jo Hwi, the leader of the Jo Family’s Great Assembly.

The man was now conflicted, realizing the weight of the situation.

“If it’s so important, please wait a moment. I will go to see the Keeper.”

He quickly left, and about an hour later, Seobokgang, the keeper of Daeseokbinggo, appeared and hurriedly greeted Han Seol-hyeon.

“I am Seobokgang, the keeper of Daeseokbinggo! It’s an honor to meet you!”

At that moment, a familiar voice came from behind Seobokgang.

“Chief Namtcheon-il must be busy reviewing the new expansion plans, yet you seem to have a lot of free time.”

“Yikes!”

Floating above them on a sword was Jo Hwi, the absolute leader of the Jo Family’s Great Assembly, looking down on them with an expression full of authority.

Seobokgang, startled by the appearance of Jo Hwi, immediately bowed with the utmost respect.

“I greet the chairman!”

Jo Hwi, standing on the sword, was frowning. He had just returned from inspecting the business operations in Hefei, but the atmosphere there had clearly changed for the worse. The management had been lax, likely due to the focus on Gangseo Province.

Now, with thousands of employees under his command, Jo Hwi knew how dangerous it was to let this system fall apart.

“Go back and inform all the executives in Hefei of my return and give them the order to assemble.”

“The… assembly order?”

“Do I need to say it twice?”

“Yes, understood, Chairman!”

As Seobokgang rushed off, Jo Hwi’s gaze shifted to Han Seol-hyeon.

“Manager Han… no, Little Lady Han.”

Over the past few months, Han Seol-hyeon had been avoiding him, not looking him in the eye and running away whenever they met. At first, Jo Hwi didn’t think much of it, but as it kept happening, it began to frustrate him.

“Will you run away again today?”

“Ah…”

Han Seol-hyeon, her face turning red again, quickly turned around. Jo Hwi watched her, his gaze lingering on the back of her neck.

‘Her neck is beautiful, too.’

The proposal in the gang’s headquarters had been a spontaneous decision made out of necessity, but it was also his honest feelings. He couldn’t bear the thought of her being hurt in any way.

It was hard to understand when his feelings for her had started, but his heart had been drawn to her without him realizing it. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that his feelings for her weren’t just affection; it was something much deeper.

“I’m asking you how you feel about me.”

The question Jo Hwi asked was, in effect, a confession, and it forced Han Seol-hyeon to confront her feelings.

“I… do you not have feelings for me?”

With great courage, Han Seol-hyeon finally spoke up, and Jo Hwi shook his head gently.

“I’ve never experienced love, so I don’t know if what I feel for you is truly love.”

He felt embarrassed admitting this. Throughout his life, he had never truly experienced the emotion of love.

“My mother once said…”

“Pardon?”

Han Seol-hyun’s delicate fingers were anxiously fiddling with the cords of her clothes.

“My mother used to say that whenever she thought of that man, her heart would warm like sunlight. She said her heart would race at all times, and sometimes she couldn’t help but smile. She spent her days waiting for him, sewing his clothes, preparing meals, and grooming herself,” she said.

“…”

“She said when he looked troubled, she couldn’t be happy, and would sometimes hurt herself while sewing, or secretly cry when something bad happened to him.”

Suddenly, Han Seol-hyun let out a small laugh.

“My mother once described that man, my father, as the ‘ruler of Seol Ok-ryeong’s (Snow Jade’s) heart.'”

Zhou Hui also smiled in return.

“Haha.”

Then, a long silence followed.

After a while, Han Seol-hyun, holding her teacup, said something unexpected.

“You… you’ve already conquered my heart.”

“Ha, Han So-jeo.”

Zhou Hui, completely taken aback, almost dropped the iron sword he was holding.

“I realized recently that the feeling I have for you is indeed one of affection. But… do you not feel the same way?” she asked.

Zhou Hui froze.

The one who ruled his entire heart, Han Seol-hyun, seemed even greater than him, someone who had lived twice as long.

Such early education in love!

With a more serious expression, Zhou Hui finally spoke.

“I, on the contrary, was angry. When you were hurt, I felt my blood boil. When you were persecuted by the famous figures of Jianghu, I wanted to knock them all down.”

His voice trembled as he spoke.

“But I can’t be sure this is affection.”

Zhou Hui was confused because what he felt seemed no different from camaraderie.

It felt similar to the emotions he had when Zhang Yilong had been in trouble.

But Han Seol-hyun helped him resolve that confusion.

“…You’re saying the same thing my father did.”

“Yes?”

Han Seol-hyun, with a faint blush on her face, continued to fuss with her clothes.

“My father used to get so upset if anyone even looked at my mother with an inappropriate gaze. And on days when the northern winds and snowstorms would come, he would drop everything and rush to my mother with a large windproof coat.”

As if missing those old memories, tears welled up in Han Seol-hyun’s large eyes.

“My father said a man’s desire to protect a woman was, without hesitation, affection.”

“Ah!”

At that moment, Zhou Hui felt an overwhelming sense of love for her.

He quickly embraced her.

“Oh!”

As Han Seol-hyun awkwardly froze in his embrace, the heavy stone door of the Binggong (Ice Hall) began to open by itself.

Zhou Hui quickly pulled away from Han Seol-hyun, his face full of confusion, and looked towards the door.

The door opening by itself could only mean that Han Seol-baek had done it!

As the dust settled, Han Seol-baek appeared, looking disheveled.

“I can’t bear to watch this.”

“Brother!”

Han Seol-baek’s eyes glared fiercely at Zhou Hui.

It was scandalous to him that this man, who had just become a part of their household, would be caught having such intimate conversations so early in the morning!

“Did you intend to drag me into a state of confusion? Why, of all places, did you choose here to engage in this embarrassing love talk?”

“Sorry… Brother.”

Han Seol-baek’s fierce gaze quickly shifted to Zhou Hui.

“She’s the cherished child of the North Sea, raised with care.”

Zhou Hui forced a bitter smile.

“I know.”

“I will allow the marriage. But never interfere with my training again.”

Han Seol-baek’s tone had turned dismissive, acknowledging Zhou Hui as a member of their family.

With just a few more words, Han Seol-baek turned to go back into the Binggong. Han Seol-hyun, looking flustered, called after him.

“Brother! I— I…”

Han Seol-baek glanced back indifferently.

His face, illuminated by the morning sun, was that of a heavenly beauty.

“You came to seek permission from the family elder, and I’ve granted it. Is there anything else?”

“Brother…”

Han Seol-hyun felt bitterly disappointed by her brother’s cold demeanor. For a woman, marriage was a daunting thing, and she had wanted to hear at least a kind word of advice.

But Han Seol-baek’s attention was focused entirely on Zhou Hui.

Perhaps it was due to his distracted heart, but Zhou Hui’s lack of a wife had briefly become evident.

“How high is your rank in Jianghu?” Han Seol-baek asked.

By now, Jianghu had reached a point where the ‘Eight Seats’ of the world were mentioned in conversations.

“I am ranked among the highest of the Eight Seats.”

The declaration sounded somewhat arrogant, but considering the reputation of the “Little Sword God,” it was almost expected pride.

“Show me everything.”

Nodding silently, Zhou Hui let go of his mental restraint and revealed all his power.

“Hmph!”

Han Seol-baek, overwhelmed by the immense pressure, bit his lip in agony.

Zhou Hui quickly concealed his presence again.

Han Seol-baek was trembling uncontrollably.

The absolute power Zhou Hui had revealed was beyond imagination.

However, as Han Seol-baek considered that such a man was now part of their family, a small smile appeared on his face.

“When you leave your retreat, I want you to give me a title that matches your strength.”

Zhou Hui smiled faintly as though he had thought of something.

“How about ‘Ice God’?”