Dan Seol-yeong had every reason to feel anxious.
First of all, neither she nor Dang Mu-jin were getting any younger. They were well past the age when most people married, practically bursting at the seams with readiness.
In their city, it was customary for people to marry before turning twenty and have children soon after. Among their peers, it was rare to find anyone who wasn’t already married.
Despite this, Seol-yeong hadn’t felt rushed until now because, although they hadn’t officially tied the knot, her relationship with Mu-jin was stronger than most couples’.
For over a year, Dang Je-seon had cherished Seol-yeong as if she were already his daughter-in-law.
The problem arose after Mu-jin returned from the Demonic Sect.
Seol-yeong glanced at Mok Wan-ah, who was organizing medicinal herbs but occasionally looked up to see what Mu-jin was doing.
‘It’s not just my imagination.’
Mu-jin might not have shown any special feelings towards Wan-ah, but her demeanor towards him was anything but ordinary.
There was an indescribable quality to Wan-ah’s behavior. Her gaze lingered on Mu-jin with a peculiar sweetness, and her voice softened when she spoke to him.
To make matters worse, Wan-ah had started learning to read and write from Mu-jin for an hour and a half each day, making the situation even more precarious.
Seol-yeong wished someone else could teach Wan-ah, but no one volunteered.
Hong Geol-gae could read without issue but was clumsy with writing. Namgung Myeong, on the other hand, was too busy avoiding any bothersome tasks to be a reliable teacher.
Reluctantly, the task fell to Mu-jin, who was both knowledgeable and diligent. While the intention was good, it was impossible for Seol-yeong not to feel uneasy.
So far, nothing had happened, but the nature of relationships is to deepen with time spent together, especially if one side harbors feelings.
Seol-yeong clenched her fists.
‘I can’t delay any longer. It’s time to make a move.’
She wasn’t sure how to resolve the situation, but she knew where to find the best advice on such matters.
Seol-yeong sprang to her feet and headed to the nearest well, where the village’s experts on love and family life—older women and young wives—gathered.
For the next few days, Dang Mu-jin immersed himself in training.
He sparred with Namgung Myeong once or twice a day and sought guidance from Sam An-bul whenever he had the chance.
Both Sam An-bul and Namgung Myeong were recognized masters, but they were currently in need of something to occupy their time.
It wasn’t just them helping Mu-jin. Even the Demonic Sect members seemed eager to repay him, gathering in the courtyard of the Dang family clinic every few days to create chaotic or one-against-many scenarios to aid his training.
Watching Mu-jin and Sam An-bul train, Namgung Myeong clicked his tongue in disbelief.
“You’re one lucky guy. I had plenty of support during my training, but I never had it this good.”
“Really? I thought it wouldn’t be much different. Your father is a supreme martial artist, isn’t he? You must have had plenty of experts around.”
“It wasn’t common for my father to oversee my training directly. Having even one elder from the family help was a blessing.”
“Is that so? Well, this isn’t exactly a walk in the park.”
Covered in dirt, Mu-jin let his sword hang as he spoke to Sam An-bul.
“By the way, I’m not sure what the point of this training is.”
Recently, Mu-jin and Sam An-bul’s sessions had become more like a game with set rules. If Mu-jin could escape the Dang family clinic’s yard without being caught by Sam An-bul, he won. Otherwise, Sam An-bul did.
There were no restrictions on how Mu-jin could escape, making the rules heavily in his favor.
Yet, Mu-jin rarely won, maybe once in ten tries.
The reason was simple: Sam An-bul was overwhelmingly strong.
Hearing Mu-jin’s question, Sam An-bul chuckled.
“I assure you, there’s no training more important than this. Without this understanding, you’d never surpass the ultimate barrier.”
“What exactly is this training for?”
“It’s to teach you how to survive.”
Mu-jin had suspected as much, but it wasn’t a particularly satisfying answer.
Sam An-bul’s teachings often veered away from the path of becoming stronger.
“Isn’t it better to win and survive rather than run away?”
“Of course, winning is ideal. But unless you’re the best in the world, you can’t win every fight. Even the best can’t win them all.”
Sam An-bul approached Mu-jin, gently brushing the dirt off his clothes with surprisingly delicate hands for someone with such a rugged appearance.
“You must always be prepared to survive when facing an opponent you can’t handle. I often retreated in unfavorable situations, and that’s how I survived to reach this point.”
“Isn’t that just you?”
“Not at all. Think of the Left Guardian and the Ghost King.”
Mu-jin recalled the two. They had retreated the moment they realized they couldn’t handle Sam An-bul and Hwa Yeon-shin.
“Well… they survived, but it was a bit disgraceful.”
“Does it matter if it was disgraceful? Knowing when to retreat and when to flee is how you get another chance. If you’re dreaming of revenge, it’s even more crucial. Those who can survive their failures eventually succeed in their revenge, but those who refuse to retreat die in vain and fail.”
Many had given Mu-jin similar advice.
Gwi-ui, who valued practicality over honor, had said so, as had the old man he met a few days ago. But Mu-jin had never taken such advice to heart.
Sam An-bul continued.
“The late Right Guardian knew when to retreat, as did the Cult Leader and the Sword Saint. Why do you think so many who reach the pinnacle know when to step back? Why are there no ultimate masters who never retreat, no undefeated champions?”
Mu-jin answered lightly.
“Because you have to survive to improve your skills and plan for the future.”
“Exactly. That’s the right answer. Those who only care about pride die quickly, but those who know when to retreat survive and reach great heights. It’s a simple truth, but few practice it, and even fewer speak of it.”
“But retreating doesn’t guarantee victory next time.”
“True. But you’re an exception.”
“What do you mean?”
When Mu-jin asked, Sam An-bul placed a large hand on his shoulder.
“Of course, some must throw their lives away for revenge if their opponent is sure to grow stronger faster, making now the last chance. But you’re different.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Most martial artists rely solely on their skills for strength. That’s true for me, Namgung Myeong, and the Cult Leader. But you have another way to grow stronger: poison.”
Sam An-bul paused to gather his thoughts before continuing.
“You might hit a wall someday. For most, that’s the end. But you can grow stronger through means other than martial talent—through poison.”
“Well, that’s true.”
Not long ago, Mu-jin had achieved remarkable feats and defeated the Right Guardian thanks to acquiring the Poison of the Beast.
While he hadn’t done it all on his own, he had played the biggest part.
“Poison is troublesome. It’s difficult for even someone like me to handle. Few will grow stronger faster than you. You’ll grow faster than others and always have the right to plan for the future. That’s why I tried to kill you when we first met, ignoring everything else.”
It sounded like praise, but it also felt like a veiled threat or grudge. Mu-jin scratched his chin, letting out a low hum.
“Hmm…”
Sam An-bul grinned.
“Besides, being ready to escape at any moment allows you to fight more boldly and bravely. If you win, great. If you lose, you can flee. Who could be braver than that?”
It was an amusing notion. Usually, people say you need to burn your bridges to be truly courageous.
But Sam An-bul’s words had their own logic.
Mu-jin laughed, not just at the content but also at Sam An-bul’s generous assessment and concern for him.
Seeing that Mu-jin understood, Sam An-bul relaxed his shoulders.
“Alright, let’s continue. Try to succeed this time.”
Sam An-bul lightly pushed Mu-jin away to create some distance, then swung his fist.
In less than half a moment, Mu-jin lay unconscious on the ground.
Mu-jin regained consciousness and blew his nose hard.
The dried blood clots cleared, making it easier to breathe.
He fetched some water from a bucket in the yard and washed off the dirt.
As he dried off and dressed, Dan Seol-yeong approached him quietly.
“Are you busy?”
Mu-jin had free time in the evenings, and Seol-yeong knew it.
“No, I’m not busy now.”
“Then, would you like to go somewhere with me tonight?”
“Where to?”
“I heard there’s a huge stone Buddha at a temple to the south. I’d like to see it.”
“You’re talking about Neungunsa, right?”
“That’s right.”
If you head south from Seongdo, you’ll come across a temple called Neungunsa, where a massive stone Buddha is carved into the cliffside.
Though the central plains are vast and filled with countless wonders, the stone Buddha at Neungunsa is particularly special. It’s one of the first places tourists visiting Sichuan seek out, along with the Dujiangyan irrigation system. Tang Mujin had visited Neungunsa as a child.
Tang Mujin didn’t hesitate for long. After a day of training, there was no reason not to spend the evening with Dan Seolyeong.
“Shall we go now?”
Dan Seolyeong nodded.
The two moved swiftly, using their martial arts skills. Whenever Dan Seolyeong’s pace slowed, Tang Mujin would carry her on his back.
By the time dusk settled, they arrived at Neungunsa.
Upon entering the temple, it wasn’t the stone Buddha that greeted them first, but the soft glow of lanterns. Hanging just above head height, they were spaced evenly like a checkerboard, casting a gentle light.
The mingling of the lanterns’ varied hues with the temple’s unique fragrance made Tang Mujin and Dan Seolyeong feel as if they had stepped into another world.
“Wow, what a sight.”
“Haven’t you been to Neungunsa before?”
“When I came with my father as a child, it was during the day, so the lanterns weren’t lit.”
Dan Seolyeong glanced around. Just as the women at the well had described, most of the people there were young couples.
When Dan Seolyeong had asked the women at the well, they unanimously recommended visiting Neungunsa in the late evening.
The idea was that after a couple strolled hand in hand, admiring the lanterns, they would naturally find themselves in the secluded woods outside, listening to the sounds of insects.
The village women even claimed that this happened naturally, even if it was a first meeting.
Their evidence was solid. Among the people Dan Seolyeong met at the well, four had met their husbands at Neungunsa.
Right in front of Dan Seolyeong and Tang Mujin, a similar scene was unfolding. A man and woman who had come separately to Neungunsa were now comfortably close to each other.
Dan Seolyeong looked pleased.
‘This is it. It’s certain.’
She sidled up to Tang Mujin and gently took his hand. In the village, such behavior might have drawn comments, but at Neungunsa, it was perfectly normal.
Tang Mujin held her hand firmly and gazed into her eyes.
“Shall we go see the stone Buddha?”
“Huh…?”
Tang Mujin led Dan Seolyeong decisively toward the stone Buddha.
Though it felt like the plan was slightly off track, it was still within acceptable bounds.
They spent a long time admiring the massive stone Buddha, discussing how it might have been crafted, given their shared interest in creation.
Afterward, they returned to the area with the lanterns, but Tang Mujin headed straight for the temple’s exit.
“Leaving already?”
“Weren’t we here to see the stone Buddha?”
“Well, yes, but…”
Dan Seolyeong felt something was amiss. Yet, the situation wasn’t beyond repair.
The atmosphere between them was sweeter than usual, and the true essence of Neungunsa was revealed outside.
As they left the temple, faint signs of life could be sensed in the surrounding woods.
While an ordinary person might overlook it, the sounds were clear to Tang Mujin, with his high martial prowess, and Dan Seolyeong, who had some training.
Soft whispers and rustling noises came from the woods, and in a few spots, even breathless sighs could be heard.
This was the essence of Neungunsa, as the village women had described: after creating a romantic atmosphere with the lanterns, stepping into the quiet, shadowy forest naturally led to the next step.
Dan Seolyeong gently tugged on Tang Mujin’s hand, steering him toward the secluded, overgrown path.
However, Tang Mujin, flustered by the sounds around them, failed to grasp Dan Seolyeong’s bold hint.
“Uh, we should hurry through here.”
His oblivious comment left Dan Seolyeong quite flustered.
”…What? Just leave?”
“Is there a problem?”
“No, my legs are tired… I’d like to rest a bit before we go.”
Dan Seolyeong looked at him with intense eyes, but Tang Mujin didn’t catch on.
“Then I’ll carry you.”
Tang Mujin crouched down naturally, offering his back to her.
Dan Seolyeong sighed inwardly. Clueless fool.
Tang Mujin ran like the wind, only setting Dan Seolyeong down once they reached the Tang family clinic.
Despite her bold signals while riding on his back, Tang Mujin’s obliviousness in this area was beyond imagination.
As Dan Seolyeong stood under the night sky, not entering the annex, Tang Mujin asked, “Why are you standing there? Planning to stay up a bit longer?”
”…Yes.”
She watched Tang Mujin’s retreating figure as he entered the annex, unable to hide her disappointment.
Gazing at the dim crescent moon, Dan Seolyeong wandered around the clinic grounds. It was then she sensed a presence in the darkness.
Startled, she stepped back, wondering if it was an intruder. But then a familiar voice spoke.
“You seem to have a lot on your mind.”
It was Hwayeon Shinni, appearing from the shadows with a strangely excited demeanor.