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Chapter 10
Business at the Kunlun Sect had come to an end.
As they descended the path they had climbed to leave the Kunlun Sect’s land, they were in the mood to take a look around and see the surroundings.
On the way down the steep mountain path, they noticed an old man holding a worn broom, sweeping the area around him.
Heukjeon didn’t pay much attention, but Cheongun couldn’t take his eyes off the old man.
“…….”
The rhythmic sound of sweeping struck their ears a few times before the old man finally noticed Cheongun’s gaze and turned toward him.
“Do you happen to need something from this old man?”
“…….”
Cheongun didn’t answer the old man’s question.
The old man, observing Cheongun’s silence, gave an inexplicable smile and returned to sweeping the ground.
Hour by hour, half-hour by half-hour, the old man moved slightly while sweeping, and Cheongun never once took his eyes off him.
“…What is this…”
Even Heukjeon could do nothing but watch the old man silently.
Since Sidung was staring blankly, there was no way to act alone.
Cheongun’s focus was evident, though its purpose remained a complete mystery.
Another hour passed. The sky, which had risen with the sun, now turned red, and even that redness began fading into darkness.
“…It’s already almost three hours past sunrise.”
The first to break the silence was, surprisingly, the old man.
It couldn’t be helped. After all, he had approached Cheongun first.
“Yes. That’s right.”
A remarkably calm response.
Since he couldn’t know why Cheongun had been watching him all along, it was only natural for the old man to speak first.
“You don’t seem like a bad child who enjoys teasing old men.”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
Cheongun was persistent.
The old man hadn’t turned fully yet and was still sweeping, but Cheongun kept his gaze solely on the broom.
Heukjeon felt like speaking, but had no way to start a conversation…
‘I’m not the one… he’s talking to Sojangju.’
Anyone could see that the person the old man should speak to was Heukjeon.
A man equipped with his own skills, returning from the Kunlun Sect.
So why was the old man addressing Sojangju instead of him?
Now that he thought about it, it seemed the old man might not have even been aware of him at all, so thoroughly was he excluded.
‘He knows.’
The old man knew the nature of Woon. How he knew was unclear, but the aura he now exuded was nothing.
One must always be cautious in the martial world.
An old man sweeping the steps of the Kunlun Sect. The more he thought about it, the stranger it seemed.
“Hahaha… Should the old man speak first?”
“I do not understand what you mean.”
Cheongun naturally continued the conversation.
‘Could it be that Sojangju also knows who the old man is?’
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have answered the old man’s first words.
At times like this, the best approach is to say nothing and remain still.
“You seem to already know, child.”
“Yes.”
“Hahaha… I wonder how you figured it out.”
Though he still hadn’t turned, his interest was palpable even from his back.
“Shall we have a conversation? I have some fine tea.”
“Yes. I shall.”
“Follow me.”
The old man leaned the broom against the wall and walked down the path, hands clasped behind his back.
At the foot of Kunlun Mountain, there were several forks in the path. After passing a few, they arrived at an astonishingly flat area.
A lawn of uniform height, with a small pavilion at its center.
Behind it flowed a waterfall—not grand, but undeniably picturesque.
“I have some fine tea. My favorite.”
“Thank you.”
Seated in the pavilion, one side offered calm, green grass, while the other revealed a dynamic valley.
Simply being there gave a sense of chi flowing through the body.
“Do you dislike tea? Some in my sect your age do, but they seem especially averse.”
“I like it. The aroma is pleasant, isn’t it?”
“Hahaha, indeed.”
The old man gestured, and the teacup began to float in midair.
“Vacuum Manipulation…!”
Heukjeon was startled, but Cheongun remained remarkably calm.
And that wasn’t all.
Steam rose from the cup.
“Samadhi True Fire…”
Only now did Heukjeon realize the old man’s true identity.
‘He is the Sect Elder.’
The chief of the Kunlun Sect, a model for all Taoist disciples.
“Drink.”
“Thank you, Sect Elder.”
The tea smelled divine, and merely inhaling the aroma cleared the mind.
“By the way, Sect Elder, why did you come to see me?”
“Hahaha, quick to notice. Indeed, I came for you.”
“You’ve been watching from the start?”
“Yes. I intended to visit my senior for a matter, but I saw something very interesting.”
He seemed to refer to Cheongun and Juhyeokjo’s minor skirmish.
The Sect Elder knew Juhyeokjo well—not insolent, but hardly polite.
Yet, his talent was extraordinary.
And Cheongun had handled him in a single move—without drawing a sword himself, while Juhyeokjo did.
‘I only intended to watch…’
Originally, he hadn’t planned to bring Cheongun here.
Few disciples even knew of this place, which, if one entered the wrong path, could trap them in a formation for life.
Yet he brought Cheongun here, driven by curiosity over what had occurred.
At first, it was mere curiosity. To infer who Cheongun was.
But the curiosity had lasted three hours straight—it was extraordinary.
“An interesting scene indeed.”
“Yes. At my age, even uncomfortable things can be entertaining.”
A subtle way of saying it could have been unpleasant.
But Cheongun’s expression remained calm.
“What truly interests me is why you watched broom sweeping for three hours.”
“Have you ever swept, Sect Elder?”
“Occasionally.”
“Did you ever do it daily?”
“Hmm… long ago, from third disciple to second disciple, I did it every day.”
After that, not daily—likely because he poured all his energy into cultivation, recognized for his talent.
“No one sweeps like that.”
“Hm?”
For a moment, the Sect Elder recalled his own sweeping, wondering how he had done it.
“Hahaha! So that’s it.”
“The Kunlun sweeping, with its peculiar and pronounced technique.”
“You watched it for three hours?”
“Yes.”
“What did you feel?”
Cheongun, who answered all questions promptly, remained silent on this one.
The Sect Elder might have assumed he didn’t understand, but that wasn’t the case.
“If I answer, would I become your master?”
“Hahaha! Indeed.”
Another hearty laugh rang out.
Though called a Taoist sect, they were bold and spirited people. Even their sword techniques revealed this.
He had thought the Sect Elder was restrained in position—but not entirely.
“Surprisingly, I feel it might be fine that way.”
“You know who I am.”
“Hahaha. Just a figure of speech.”
The Sect Elder brushed it off, but his eyes betrayed a sense of longing—surely Cheongun would become exceptional if formally accepted as a disciple.
“Do you know this?”
“What is it?”
“The pleasures of a Taoist.”
“Pleasures of a… Taoist?”
Not a term one would easily associate with them.
“Today, I feel that pleasure once more after a long time.”
Having emptied his cup, the Sect Elder raised a finger:
“One question—anything I can answer, I shall answer.”
A perfect chance for multiple inquiries—but Cheongun’s question was already set: the most important.
“Will the True Evil War occur?”
The Sect Elder could not hide his surprise.
Not a question a child would typically ask, and one requiring serious consideration even for knowledge of the recent demonic stirrings.
“Huh… an intriguing question indeed.”
The question itself was interesting, and the asker—a ten-year-old child—was even more so.
“No, it will not.”
Cheongun, knowing the future, might have found this disappointing.
“But I cannot ignore it entirely.”
“You mean…?”
“It’s not far off. But do not worry. We are Great Kunlun.”
Yet the collapse of Great Kunlun was a truth even Cheongun could not speak aloud.
It was time to return. Cheongun finished the aromatic tea and rose.
“Where are the marks of the demon sect usually found?”
“Is that not enough questions?”
“You said the question was interesting, so one more would be fine, yes?”
“Hahaha. Indeed. Mostly on the heart, but the spies differ each time.”
“Spies… thank you.”
Few would know this. It had been revealed during the True Evil War that spies bore marks elsewhere.
Thus, Cheongun, showing respect, left Kunlun Mountain with Heukjeon waiting at a distance.
“Shall we go?”
“Yes. There’s a decent inn nearby, let’s head there.”
The Sect Elder remained, eyes still alight with interest.
“Such brilliance…”
Talent radiating this brightly.
Yet emotion must remain mere admiration—no more.
As they headed back to the Kunlun Sect, chaos seemed to have erupted inside.
“…It must be done!”
“Yes!”
What happened? Familiar faces lay pale and motionless.
“What’s going on?”
“Sect Elder!”
“The Sect Elder has arrived!”
Everyone began bowing, and the Sect Elder did not avert his gaze from the lifeless body.
“Is it Moonjeong from the pharmacy?”
“Yes, for some reason… he suddenly lost his life.”
“Suddenly lost his life?”
“Yes. The only odd point is that the disciple disguised as Sidung briefly visited the pharmacy. We have begun the investigation.”
Ah yes, he was disguised as Sidung.
‘…Spies?’
For some reason, the thought immediately came to mind, repeated twice in the last words.
“…Strip his clothes.”
“Eh?”
“Remove all of Moonjeong’s garments.”
“Yes, yes. Understood.”
And so, they began stripping away all his clothing.
