IJWTGO 08

Episode 08

Baek-seon asked quietly,

“Why is it okay for others… but not for me?”

Cheon-rang hesitated, lips parting and closing as though searching for words.

He wasn’t Mun Yu-gang’s disciple—Baek-seon was. Moreover, Cheon-rang, brimming with Yang energy, was the very person Baek-seon, afflicted with the suspected meridian disorder, needed most.

Yet no matter how desperate things became, he could not bring himself to do that with someone he had raised almost like his own.

I may care deeply for Cheon-rang… but that doesn’t mean I wish to share my body with him, he thought. All he wanted was for Cheon-rang to escape the grief of losing his master and to find someone who could bring him happiness.

Cheon-rang misread his silence.

“What is it? Are you stopping yourself because you think I’d be disgusted by a man as filthy as me?”

“Of course not! It’s just… we’ve come to know each other now. How can I make such a shameless request of someone I know?”

Cheon-rang frowned deeply, unable to comprehend.

So, he thought, it was fine to bare one’s flesh to a stranger, but not to someone you’d shared days with?

Even this stubbornness feels like my master…

Grinding his teeth, an absurd thought suddenly struck him.

What if… this person really is my master?

Baek-seon’s demeanor had changed strangely since the night Cheon-rang failed the ritual to summon Mun Yu-gang’s soul. That night had been different—unlike previous attempts, Baek-seon had been present in the cave.

What if the ritual had worked… but the soul had entered the wrong body?

It’s not… impossible, is it?

Cheon-rang gazed intently at Baek-seon’s face.

For five years, he had chased nothing but that faint possibility. But now… now he felt something he couldn’t ignore—his master’s presence.

If… if this person really holds my master’s soul…

Then all the oddities—the ignorance of where they were, the lack of knowledge about martial methods—suddenly made sense.

Then… there’s only one way to know.

To test it.

To see if this person was the “precious connection” his master spoke of… or the master himself.

Cheon-rang’s hand slid from Baek-seon’s lower belly to his waist.

Startled, Baek-seon turned—only to be pulled into Cheon-rang’s arms.

“Ugh! Cheon-rang?”

Baek-seon squirmed slightly, unused to being embraced so tightly. Then, as if guided by instinct, he shifted, wrapping his arms around Cheon-rang’s head—just like Mun Yu-gang had once embraced the young Cheon-rang.

“Your body’s so warm…”

“… …”

“Is it just because mine feels so cold now?”

Baek-seon absentmindedly ran his fingers through Cheon-rang’s untamed hair, smoothing it down.

“So… hugging like this isn’t part of that ‘shameful’ category?”

“Of course not. The… direction of the act is entirely different, isn’t it?”

Cheon-rang clenched his fist unconsciously at Baek-seon’s half-playful tone.

But Baek-seon, unaware of his turmoil, only traced the differences in him—how much he had grown.

“You’ve grown… so much.”

Once, when Mun Yu-gang had embraced him, there had been only a faint, boyish scent. Now there was the heavy fragrance of a man—mature, strong, unyielding.

Time had passed. Too much time.

Then Cheon-rang spoke, voice lower, darker than before.

“Tang Baek-seon…”

Baek-seon instinctively pulled back to meet his gaze—just as Cheon-rang moved, pinning him beneath.

“I get that you look a lot like my master.”

His thigh slid between Baek-seon’s, his face hovering close, dark eyes burning.

“But why do you treat me… like a child too?”

His voice was sharp, cutting, but Baek-seon’s eyes did not hold fear. Only surprise—and the faintest glimmer of hope.

Baek-seon reached up, brushing Cheon-rang’s cheek softly.

“I never meant to treat you like a child. If my words hurt you… I’m sorry.”

The apology made Cheon-rang’s eyes tremble. Half certainty, half fear.

If this person really is my master…

The thought alone made him pull back suddenly, breath uneven.

Mun Yu-gang—hailed as the strongest man in the world, persecuted only for his demonic origins—had been the greatest figure Cheon-rang had ever known.

But Tang Baek-seon…

Although his appearance was beautiful, his martial ability was far below Cheonrang’s. On top of that, he was even suffering from an unknown cold disorder.

‘What if he ends up resenting me?’

A sudden wave of guilt washed over him.

“Cheonrang?”

Unable to meet Baekseon’s gaze any longer, he hesitated, stepped back a few paces, and then fled the room as if running away.

---

Standing in front of the inn, Baekseon turned his head toward the towering mountain. He had thought Cheonrang would return quickly, but even after a whole day, he had yet to come back.

“He said he would accompany me to Sichuan…”

Baekseon had secretly looked forward to traveling together, but seeing no sign of Cheonrang left him with a bitter taste.

“There’s no helping it.”

Perhaps something urgent had come up. Or perhaps, after talking with him, Cheonrang simply didn’t want to stay with him anymore.

Even so, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

“I can’t afford to delay any longer.”

Baekseon gently rubbed his lower abdomen and began walking slowly.

Though he had received a little Yang energy from Cheonrang the previous day, it wasn’t something that would last forever.

After all, they hadn’t directly joined their bodies. At most, the energy would last seven days—three at the shortest.

“Will I be able to reach Sichuan within that time?”

Murmuring softly, Baekseon turned back to gaze at the inner part of Yunnan’s capital. Part of him still hoped Cheonrang might appear behind him with a face full of displeasure, calling out to him.

“…This is just lingering attachment, isn’t it?”

But in the end, Baekseon only turned his body with a resigned look.

---

That day, Cheonrang, who had run out of the room, immediately leaped to the summit of Aenoe Mountain.

“He’s not my master. Tang Baekseon is not my master.”

Repeating the same words over and over, Cheonrang reached the cave, almost forgetting to breathe.

Staring into the empty cave, he dove straight into the pool below. Deep beneath the water was another hidden underwater cavern.

There, Cheonrang had laid Master Manyugang’s corpse to rest—a place only he knew.

“…Master.”

Clenching his fists, Cheonrang stared silently at Manyugang’s body. The corpse was definitely there, so why did Tang Baekseon feel so much like his master?

“I just have to confirm it.”

Taking a deep breath, Cheonrang drew his sword without hesitation. He slashed his palm, letting red blood drip onto the ground.

At once, the surroundings began to glow crimson.

Closing his eyes, Cheonrang blew a whistle infused with inner energy. The crimson aura shot up toward the sky, producing a peculiar sound.

Chunggwi-eum (聽鬼音)—
The foundation of the Ghost-Summoning Art, a forbidden technique to call forth the souls of the dead and force them to respond. Cheonrang had practiced this hundreds, thousands of times, to call upon Manyugang’s spirit.

Taking a deep breath, Cheonrang called out to Manyugang’s soul.

Countless vengeful spirits wailed in resentment, and then, at last, silence followed.

“…Master.”

Cheonrang whispered softly, swallowing dryly from nervousness.

Then he asked—

If you are truly there, please answer me. Tell me… did you return to this world?