Jeonggang and Jeongyang walked across the training ground.Elder Jeonggang simply watched the Sect Leader’s bitter expression in silence.It was Jeongyang who spoke first.“You, senior brother… are truly insufferable sometimes.”“Did she get to you that much?”Jeongyang looked up quietly at the sunset sky.The sun was burning the heavens red.Beyond that edge, the sky had already charred into black night.That color—red, nearly black—was like Cheon Soyak’s black plum blossoms.He still hadn’t forgotten the moment he opened that door.At the center of a room overflowing with black plum blooms, she sat with her eyes closed.She had become one with her breath, immersed in cultivation; the energy flowing through her small body made it seem alive, as if the air itself circulated in grand currents around her.…He’d thought there would be no further surprises after that.“I thought you had taken in the future Plum Blossom Sword Saint.”“Did you now.”“But it seems I was mistaken.”Jeongyang turned toward the Third-Generation Hall.Through an open window, he could see Cheon Soyak surrounded by other children.“Then what do you see her as?”“That child… is the plum blossom itself.”Elder Jeonggang waved his hand through the air.From every trace of that gesture, plum petals bloomed and rippled in the wind.But his expression remained tinged with melancholy.“You’re rather fond of her, it seems.”“As Sect Leader of Mount Hua, how could I dislike someone who resembles a plum blossom?” ****After the commotion had passed,Cheon Soyak sat quietly in her darkened room, turning over the events in her mind.“…I didn’t plan on meeting with the Sect Leader the moment I arrived.”Of course, Elder Jeonggang had been present as witness.But the conversation had been only between her and Jeongyang—for all intents and purposes, a private audience.Her fellow disciples had come swarming afterward, peppering her with questions,but Cheon Soyak answered most of them with silence.She couldn’t speak lightly of what was said with the Sect Leader.Sleep wouldn’t come.After tossing and turning for a while, she finally sat up and lit the candle.Two manuals lay on the desk—Primordial Clear-Heart Method and Sprouting Flower Sword.They were Mount Hua’s long-standing fundamental teachings.For Cheon Soyak, they were things she’d mastered long ago.“…Why did he insist on cultivating the Harmonization Scripture?”He must have realized quickly that it would do him no good.Even so, the Black Plum Sword Lord had persisted, building mastery of it over time.And at the final moment…He had melted all the inner power built through the Primordial Clear-Heart Method,even his own innate energy,and passed it entirely into the Harmonization circulation.“Why…?”She quietly opened the manuals for the Clear-Heart Method and the Sprouting Flower Sword.Ink-stamped pages bound with wooden pegs.They smelled strongly of new paper.The leaves were stiff—like the memory of her father’s old switch still lingering somewhere in her mind.“…He was a righteous man.”Perhaps that was why the # Nоvеlight # Flower-Halo Sect had never prospered.They had never starved, but neither had they lived in splendor.Her father’s uncompromising nature made that impossible.Maybe… he had already known.That his own stubbornness would one day bring something like this.That the day would come when he’d speak a single truthful word he couldn’t hold back.Cheon Soyak let out a deep sigh.The manuals of the Primordial Clear-Heart Method and the Sprouting Flower Swordwere unchanged from what she remembered.Finding no more to do, she extinguished the candle,left the window open,and lay down beneath a sky full of stars. ****Morning light streamed in through the open window.Cheon Soyak rose from bed and listened.It seemed she was the only one awake at this early hour.She neatly folded her nightclothes and changed into training robes,recalling the dream she’d just had.A black qilin had appeared.It had rubbed its face against her cheek; perhaps that meant it had forgiven her.“…You could’ve done that sooner.”Always, it took making her cough blood once before easing up.Cheon Soyak sighed, tied her belt,and turned toward the three swords hanging on the wall.She chose without much thought—the one Eunsong had bought for her.Just as she was about to step out—Clack.The door opened, and she found herself face-to-face with Cheonjeong.“…Oh. Head Senior?”“…Already awake?”Cheonjeong’s ears turned red in surprise.Cheon Soyak narrowed her eyes slightly.“What brings you to my room?”“I came to wake you.”“You could’ve called from outside.”“If you’re dressed, let’s go.”“Yes, I’ll follow.”The Third-Generation Hall was quiet at dawn.None of the other disciples ever rose this early.No one—not even Cheongak or Cheongu.Cheon Soyak stopped at the hall’s entrance.“Head Senior.”“What are you doing? Come on.”“Cheongu and Cheongak haven’t woken yet.”“That’s…”“Where are you taking me?”Cheonjeong’s eyes narrowed.“You’re quite perceptive.”“I’ll take that as praise.”“Mind if we talk for a bit?”“Is it something we can’t discuss here?”“You could say that.”Cheonjeong slowly rested his hand on the sword at his waist.It wasn’t a short training sword—it was a full-length plum blossom sword.Despite being only seventeen, he was already tall enough to wield one properly.Cheon Soyak looked up at him.“May I ask what this is about first?”“I saw you performing a grand circulation.”Cheonjeong looked down at the sword at her hip,then met her dark eyes as if trying to read what lay within.But he could see nothing.“I have a favor to ask.”“A favor…?”“I’m Head Senior of the Third Generation.I joined first, trained the longest.Other than Cheongak, no one has caught up to me yet.”That much was true.To Cheon Soyak’s eyes, Cheonjeong was a straightforward man.“…So I know the level of every disciple’s martial skill.And there’s no way I couldn’t notice yours.”He ran a hand through his hair, his expression mixed.At the same time, his gaze sharpened.“But you… you can’t be read. I can’t gauge you.The others only felt jealousy seeing your grand circulation,but for me—and for Cheongak—it was different.”“What do you mean…?”“I want to become like you.”Eyes full of tension and fixation—no longer a Daoist’s eyes,but a warrior’s.“Teach me a move. Please.”The tall boy extended his hand to the much smaller girl.Cheon Soyak opened her mouth instead of taking it.“I’m not yet skilled enough to teach anyone.”“…Is that so.”“But… I don’t wish to refuse Head Senior’s request.”It was a hand extended with pride set aside.She couldn’t dislike someone like that.Cheon Soyak clasped her small fist and offered the formal salute.“I’ll learn a move from you, Head Senior.”“Thank you.”The sound of their swords drawing rang out in unison.Both assumed the Sprouting Flower Sword stance.Then, as if by shared signal, they sprang forward.KAANG—!White blades collided with a sharp cry.Cheon Soyak twisted her wrist smoothly, deflecting Cheonjeong’s heavy blade.Then her sword darted forward.Cheonjeong stomped down, raising his sword again to block.“…Tch.”The impact drove Cheon Soyak backward.His size and strength were overwhelming.There was no winning through force alone.But this wasn’t about strength—this was about who had reached a higher realm of understanding.Cheonjeong summoned his inner power.Pure, lucid energy of the Primordial Clear-Heart Method flowed into his blade.He hadn’t yet reached the Transcendent Apex capable of forming sword aura, but—WHUMMM—!A clear note burst from his sword—a true Sword Cry.Cheonjeong had already reached the threshold of a first-rate master.“I know you won’t die from a match with me.”“…A Sword Cry.”“So I’ll give it everything I’ve got.”Sprouting Flower Sword — Secret Technique:Full Bloom, Burning Desire.A bud not yet able to flower.Cheonjeong’s sword traced five petal-like arcs of a plum blossom, driving in.Each stroke was swift and forceful—but he failed to bind them into a center.Without a heart, the blossom could never bloom.“…Your center is unstable.”His eyes widened at the remark—a precise, cutting critique.She had claimed she lacked the skill to teach,yet she saw exactly what was wrong.Cheon Soyak quietly raised her sword to target the center line.No need for anything powerful or complex—just one simple, fitting strike.Sprouting Flower Sword, First Form —Branch Toward the Rising Sun.A branch of a flowering tree always faces the dawn.Her breath drew long and thin; inner power surged at its end.The black qilin, spiritual embodiment of the Harmonization Scripture,raced through her meridians,then settled quietly at her sword tip.Her blade began to glow with energy.The mark of a first-rate master was the Sword Cry;the mark of a Transcendent Apex was the manifestation of sword aura.“…Sword Light?”And the true sign of an Apex master—Sword Light.Proof of unity between sword and spirit.Cheonjeong’s pupils quivered.At her sword tip, the essence of Mount Hua’s sword art bloomed into a single plum blossom.The supreme art of Mount Hua was, of course, the Ninefold Heaven Plum Sword.The Sprouting Flower Sword couldn’t compare—but even it could blossom.A plum so red it bordered black shimmered at her sword tip.Branch Toward the Rising Sun was a smooth, flexible thrust—a harmony of speed and stillness, motion and quiet.Cheon Soyak, with her small, slender frame, executed it perfectly.Cheonjeong could only stare in a dazeas her fine sword tip broke through his technique, shattering the form of Full Bloom, Burning Desire.“You can already make a plum blossom bloom?”At the sword point hovering before his chin, Cheonjeong lowered his blade.Cheon Soyak sheathed hers as well.“I had someone to learn from.”“You won’t tell me where you learned the Sprouting Flower Sword, will you?”“Just think of it as some branch-family sect.”“…I see.”Cheonjeong gave a bitter smile and sheathed his sword.Before him stood a fourteen-year-old girl.Yet she could wield Sword Light and make a plum blossom bloom.Anyone faced with such a gap in talent would feel disheartened.Cheonjeong was no exception.Cheon Soyak could see the heart-devil creeping into his eyes—despair, resignation, self-mockery.Losing faith in oneself, tumbling down the slope.“…Head Senior.”“You called?”“Do you have family to return to?”The question was unexpected. Cheonjeong blinked—then answered honestly.“I do. Why wouldn’t I?”“Any friends?”“Cheongak and Cheongu. They’re my fellow disciples, my friends.”“Any hobbies?”His expression turned puzzled.“…Fishing by the pond. But why are you suddenly asking such things?”“I have none.”Cheon Soyak gazed quietly toward the brightening sky.The red sun was pushing away the black of night,driving off stars and moon alike.“I have no family, no friends, no hobbies… nothing.”“What…?”“All I had was this body and the sword I inherited.”Cheonjeong looked into her empty, black eyes.Eyes that held nothing—like ash after fire.“Don’t envy me, Head Senior. I’m not someone happy.”Skill that didn’t fit her age.Sorrow that didn’t fit her size.Things seen only in those who had endured terrible tragedy.Cheonjeong reached out and gently placed a hand on her head.“…Then I won’t envy you.”Cheon Soyak didn’t brush his hand away.She knew better than anyone how broken she was.That warmth through his palm—she needed it.It was a missing piece.“And… you don’t have nothing.”“Sir?”“You have me, your Head Senior; Cheongak and Cheongu, your fellow disciples; your Master and Grandmaster—and Elder Jeonggang as well.”“But…”“From the moment you became one of Mount Hua’s people, you were never alone, Soyak.”Cheonjeong knew she had been worrying about him.The rising heart-devil within him had already faded.Despair, resignation, self-mockery—all melted away like snow.Only regret remained.Regret for the youngest junior who had only her sword left in life.“Remember this, Soyak. Cheongak, Cheongu, and I will always be on your side. We’re your seniors. Understood?”“…Even if you learn what kind of birth and past I have?”“Of course.”Cheonjeong lowered himself to meet her eyes.“You’re simply our small, adorable junior sister—talented, enviable, yes,but still our sister.No other past or explanation comes before that.That’s what it means to share the bond of fellow disciples.”It was what Elder Jeonggang had said before as well—the right doctrine of the Daoist path,the ideal and essence of what should be.“…I’ll remember.”Cheonjeong truly was a romantic.She didn’t yet know how he’d act if he ever learned her true past—but for now, Cheon Soyak wanted, more than anything, to believe those words.

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