Tap. Tap.

After slipping out of sight to speak with Jegal Myeong, Seolhwa only returned to her room late in the evening.

Maybe because she had overtaxed her mind the moment she came out of Closed-Door Cultivation at dawn, her eyes felt tired.

The stairs up to her quarters.

Rubbing her eyes as she climbed, she sensed someone up at the top of the stairs.

Seolhwa lowered her hand and, squinting slightly, looked straight ahead.

Her eyes rounded at once.

“Seolhwa.”

Yu Gang, who had been leaning on the stair rail, straightened and faced her.

Perhaps he had waited a long time in the now quite chilly weather—his ears were faintly flushed.

Yu Gang came down the steps in long strides.

His lips curved into a small smile as they met.

“I heard... you got your memory back.”

“Ah, yeah.”

Seolhwa reflexively averted her gaze.

Then she immediately frowned.

Even she herself was puzzled as to why she had looked away.

“I’m glad. I worried a lot. Nothing hurts anymore?”

Yu Gang reached out to take her arm.

In that instant, Seolhwa, without thinking, stepped back from him.

Yu Gang’s movement halted for a brief moment.

Then he gave a small cough and scratched his earlobe. Those slightly clumsy fingers told how long he had been waiting for her.

Seolhwa knit her brows.

‘...What is this?’

In this moment, even Seolhwa didn’t understand her own behavior.

It was Yu Gang—no one else.

Not once had she ever felt uncomfortable being with him.

So why did this situation feel so very uncomfortable?

It was their first time meeting since she recovered her memory, and far from feeling glad to see him....

‘...My chest feels tight.’

Why?

What kind of feeling is this?

While Seolhwa was thus thrown into confusion, Yu Gang, deliberately smoothing over his awkwardness, continued.

“I saw you spar the Green Forest War King this morning. You were incredible. When did you get that much stronger again?”

Yu Gang looked at Seolhwa, who kept avoiding his eyes.

“I’m working pretty hard so I won’t fall behind you. But at this rate I’m not even fit to face you in a match.”

“...”

“I’m going to keep training hard. Sparring with you is the most fun for me. But if I can’t even match you, I’d just be stealing your time.”

When Yu Gang finished, a short silence fell.

He waited a moment for Seolhwa’s answer, then smiled and lowered his gaze.

Her odd manner made him, somehow, uneasy.

He fiddled with their joined hands for no reason, then stole a glance at her.

Seolhwa still wouldn’t meet his eyes.

‘Even if she’s got her memory back, something might still be uncomfortable somewhere.’

Don’t get impatient. Don’t rush.

You agreed to wait.

You plan to stay by her side for life.

‘It’s enough that she found her memory.’

Yes, that alone is enough.

It’s enough that these are no longer the eyes that looked at him like a complete stranger before—they’re eyes that remember him.

Thinking so, Yu Gang gathered his scattered feelings and wore his easy smile again.

“Sorry for dropping by so late without warning. I heard you’d recovered your memory, and I... wanted to see your face.”

Seolhwa still averted her eyes, looking uncomfortable.

“You must be tired. Rest. I’ll come see you again.”

Yu Gang didn’t blame her, not even at the end.

He wanted to ask why she seemed uncomfortable around him, but in case he touched her hurt, he didn’t ask.

Tap, tap—he went down the stairs. While his presence slowly receded, Seolhwa stood stock-still, staring at one corner of the staircase.

Her hand, clenched tight, had already flushed a soft red, like Yu Gang’s ear.

Only when she could no longer sense Yu Gang did Seolhwa lift her gaze and look toward the direction he had gone.

She knew he would no longer be in sight, yet her eyes turned of their own accord.

“...”

A cold wind blew.

Seolhwa pressed a hand to her stifled chest.

Thump. Thump.

Her heart was beating faster and harder than ever.

****

Swish— Swoooosh— Swish— Swish—!

Early dawn.

From Seop Mugwang’s training grounds, only the sound of a sword cleaving the chill dawn air spread out.

Tchak— Tcha-tcha-tchak, tchak—!

Seop Mugwang recalled yesterday morning, Seolhwa’s spar with the Green Forest War King.

He had learned there would be a spar between the Martial Alliance and the Sado Union in the arena and had rushed over to put a stop to it—but Namgoong Mucheon blocked him.

When he turned back at the words, “Let’s watch a little longer,” there, astonishingly, stood his disciple, Seolhwa, on the platform.

Then Seolhwa’s bout with the Green Forest War King unfolded.

A match between masters who had entered the rarely seen realm of Flowering.

Pride—“she finally did it”—and the unavoidable envy of a warrior rose in him at once.

Seop Mugwang took that feeling as fuel.

‘What kind of master loses without being able to lift a hand against his disciple!’

Indigo Comes from Blue.

That much he conceded.

Seolhwa had already leapt far past his level and had brought to great completion the arts of Thunder he had taught her.

But no matter that she was stronger than he, he could not be the kind of master who crumpled easily.

Even if he had to cling to the hem of her long coat, he would be defeated in a fight.

Swish— Swoooosh—

With that heart, Seop Mugwang threw himself into training.

His disciple had surpassed him—there was no time to waste idly.

How long had he swung his sword in that single-minded way?

“Hah... haa... hah....”

As he finished the final movement of the Wind-and-Thunder Sword Technique, steam was already rising from his body.

Dawn was slowly breaking, and he was turning to end his practice when—

“Aagh! You scared the life out of me!!”

Seop Mugwang barked.

At some point, Seolhwa had come to stand behind him.

“You scared me! You scared me, you brat! Can’t you make some noise when you walk around!”

“I did. You missed it because you were training too hard.”

“Don’t just barge into another person’s training grounds like this, you punk! Who let you in!”

“What are you talking about?”

Whenever she was at the Martial Alliance, she had trained in Seop Mugwang’s yard.

Since it was Seop Mugwang who had allowed her to come and go freely in his grounds, neither warriors nor attendants would have stopped her.

“Ugh, nearly died of fright.”

Steadying his startled heart, Seop Mugwang cocked an eyebrow and asked,

“So what is it? Today’s not a training day.”

“Something feels strange.”

“What does?”

“My body feels a bit....”

“Are you hurt?!”

The moment Seolhwa set her hand to her chest and said something felt off, Seop Mugwang’s expression turned grave.

He seized her shoulders and turned her this way and that, gauging her state.

“Is it bad? Where and how is it bad? Did you overdo it yesterday? Have you seen a physician?”

Seolhwa, who had been moved here and there blankly by his hands, shook her head.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s just...”

Seolhwa recalled yesterday.

Thump. Thump.

Ever since she met Yu Gang, her heart had started to race and wouldn’t easily settle.

Even when she swung her sword under the moonlight, even when she washed in cold water, even when she lay down on her bed.

“...”

Thump. Thump.

Because it was beating so very fast and so hard, Seolhwa snapped open the eyes she had shut to try to sleep.

Raising her upper body, she sat against the bedframe and again laid a hand over her chest.

Thump. Thump.

Strange.

Had she failed to expel the Blood Demon’s energy completely?

Were her Blood Channels unstable?

Did she push herself too hard the moment she ended seclusion?

Such thoughts came, but her chest showed no sign of calming, and she had no idea why.

So she stayed up the whole [N O V E L I G H T] night, and as soon as dawn broke she took up her sword and came to Seop Mugwang’s training grounds.

“Hmm....”

Seop Mugwang, who had taken her pulse, slightly furrowed his brow.

“Your pulse is certainly strong. Since when has it been like this?”

“Last night Yu Gang came to see me. After that...”

At that moment, Seolhwa’s pulse thudded—thump!

Seop Mugwang’s eyebrow arched.

“Who... came to see you?”

“Yu Gang. The Mounted Pursuit Chief.”

Thump! Thump!

His eyebrow arched even higher.

Letting go of the arm whose pulse he had been feeling, he stared steadily at Seolhwa.

Then a low chuckle slipped out.

“...”

As he went on with those small chuckles, Seolhwa frowned.

She was about to ask why he was laughing when she was being this serious, when Seop Mugwang gripped her shoulders with a firm tap.

“Kid—no. Disciple.”

“Yes.”

“This illness... your father knows it better than I do.”

“My father?”

Seop Mugwang gave a big, certain nod.

“Go to your father and say it again exactly the way you told me. He’ll tell you how to cure it.”

“Is it something really bad?”

Seop Mugwang hummed and shook his head.

“If we’re being precise, it isn’t bad for you. But it’s bad for a few people. At least... two? Ah, and! Did you by any chance tell that punk about this too?”

“...Yu Gang?”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

“Good. Well done.”

Seop Mugwang chuckled and patted Seolhwa’s head—tap, tap.

“Oh, my fine disciple.”

A smile kept spilling from the corners of his mouth without end.

What on earth was she being praised for.

What had made Master so pleased that he couldn’t stop laughing?

But knowing that, light as he might look now, Seop Mugwang was not one to speak nonsense, Seolhwa saluted him and turned her steps toward Cheongun’s quarters.

Since she was going anyway, she decided she may as well have breakfast with her father.