Sohwa handed the Vice Hall Lord the sheet of paper whose ink had not yet dried.
“Show this to the Fourth Seat. It will shorten the time needed to persuade him.”
He accepted the paper carefully, as if afraid the ink might smear. When he lightly shook the paper to hurry it dry, Sohwa asked, as though finding him pathetic,
“Can’t you dry it with your Yang-Heat Art?”
In response, he sent her an even more exasperated look.
“...Do you think Yang-Heat Art is some kind of spring breeze? The paper will burn from the heat.”
“The Crimson Blood Hall Lord uses heat without burning things and controls it just fine.”
“That’s only possible because he’s the Hall Lord. Do you think monsters like him are common in this world?”
Shaking his head, he glanced at Namgung Hyun standing behind her.
“Your standards seem to have risen from associating with those the Blood Demon values. The Blood Demon thinks of people as less than dust. Anyone he deems to have high worth is not at a human level. Remember that.”
He added something even more cryptic.
“If you hold a peerless sword you cannot wield, its master may be the one who ends up harmed.”
The corner of Sohwa’s mouth curved faintly. Irritated by that attitude, the Vice Hall Lord bristled.
“I speak as someone who has lived more than ten years longer than you. Don’t laugh at me.”
But Sohwa was not mocking him at all. On the contrary, she empathized.
Her gaze also moved to Namgung Hyun.
Hadn’t she once suffered grave harm by keeping such a terrifyingly capable person at her side?
Tang Sohwa had cursed her past self as foolish, but when she looked at the Namgung Hyun of the present, she could understand how she had been deceived.
The genuine feelings that occasionally surfaced on his youthful face were enough to throw people into confusion.
Soon, Tang Sohwa withdrew her gaze and slipped a hand into her sleeve.
When a small metal plate emerged, the Vice Hall Lord’s eyes flashed.
He had seen this Passage before. Though Sohwa knew he coveted Han Cheol, she still handed him the Han Cheol passage plate.
“Place your hand on the center and channel your inner energy.”
She had decided that if trusting someone again led to a bad outcome, she would accept it as the will of Heaven.
The Vice Hall Lord set the Han Cheol passage plate on his palm and placed his other hand atop it.
His greed-laced hand trembled ever so slightly.
His inner energy quickly completed one circuit and reached the Han Cheol.
Flaaash.
As the path to the Northern Sea opened, Sohwa watched him and said,
“You know the way to the Ice Palace better than I do, so find your own route.”
“Understood.”
Fortunately, the Vice Hall Lord was not overly greedy. He promptly returned the Han Cheol to Sohwa and stepped through the Passage.
Lowering her gaze to the Han Cheol, Sohwa asked Namgung Hyun,
“Is there a way to open a Passage to the Great Desert using this even from Sichuan?”
After a brief silence, Namgung Hyun replied,
“That question is mistaken from the outset. This is a sorcery that pleads with Heaven to open a path. If you wish to return, Heaven sends you back through the Passage you used.”
He added,
“It all depends on Heaven’s permission—only that matters. The exact point where it connects to the Great Desert or the Northern Sea is irrelevant.”
His humble phrasing somehow sounded arrogant.
He betrayed not the slightest hint of unease. One could feel his confidence that there was nothing for which he would be denied Heaven’s permission.
Sohwa gave a small nod and, as if confirming, said,
“You’re saying that if we depart from Sichuan, we can return to Sichuan.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
At his answer, Sohwa’s expression brightened subtly. Her voice also grew lighter, as if she had set down a burden.
“Then let us go back as well.”
When Sohwa started down the stairs, Namgung Hyun stepped sideways, blocking her path.
His expression was grim.
“By chance, are you planning to ask Namgung Jin to go to the Great Desert?”
At the sudden question, Sohwa frowned.
“Is that important?”
“Namgung Jin is not that strong. Also, the Crimson Blood Hall Lord will not want his identity known to others.”
“I understand.”
Sohwa cut him off roughly, deeming it a conversation unworthy of her time.
“Let’s return to the Tang manor first. We’ve been away too long, haven’t we?”
Something about Tang Sohwa’s easy acceptance of his words left Namgung Hyun uneasy; his face remained troubled.
However, if the entire force of the Crimson Blood Hall had vacated their post, Baekgeumgak was no safer than the Tang manor.
He knew it was better to head for the Tang manor, where Martial Alliance members were gathered en masse. So, setting aside his desire to talk more for the moment, he went to the clearing at Baekgeumgak and formed the array.
Perhaps because the weather was good, or perhaps because he was one of Heaven’s chosen.
Though he sought Heaven’s permission three times in a single day, Heaven did not grow weary of him and granted his wishes.
Ssshhh.
The sound of the flower beds swaying in the night breeze tickled their ears.
When he opened his eyes, only the center of the flower garden had been hollowed out in a circle, the flowers there gone.
“It’s fine. The flower bed has been ruined from time to time from dumping leftover poisons, so no one will be suspicious.”
Staring at the ground, Namgung Hyun slowly raised his gaze. When their eyes met, Tang Sohwa looked straight at him.
Not much time passed before Tang Sohwa asked,
“Young Hero, I know you’ve been away a long time, but would you come inside for a moment?”
“...Do you mean Young Lady Tang’s quarters?”
Yet the one who had made the suggestion looked indifferent. With an impassive face, she nodded.
“I won’t take much of your time.”
Namgung Hyun could not refuse that request.
'It’s far too late to worry about losing time now...'
When Tang Sohwa turned first, he followed with tense steps.
It was his first time entering Tang Sohwa’s bedchamber. In fact, it was his first time entering any woman’s bedchamber at all.
He told himself there would be nothing particularly different from a man’s quarters, yet a strange sense of anticipation swelled inside him.
The sliding door opened, and the moment he stepped into the spacious room, Namgung Hyun felt his expectations had not been mistaken.
He had imagined something lavish, but Tang Sohwa’s bedchamber contained even more rare objects than he had anticipated.
In particular, the expanse of red silk covering one wall drew his gaze. The embroidery laid upon it was a spectacle in itself. It was as if all things in the world had been compressed into this one work, every manner of object under heaven depicted there.
Before he realized it, Namgung Hyun had stepped close to the wall.
“Did you embroider this yourself, Young Lady Tang?”
“Yes. It took a long time to complete.”
“I can imagine.”
Namgung Hyun gave a small nod, agreeing with her words.
A faint, light laugh brushed his ears.
When he turned, Tang Sohwa was already at his side, looking up at the embroidery on the wall.
Suddenly, she raised her hand. Her slender finger pointed to the circle in the upper left.
“Do you know what that represents?”
Beside the circle holding the waves, three lines branched out in wavy strokes. It looked like a blazing sun.
“Isn’t it the sun?”
Sohwa began to explain the embroidery to him.
“It’s a circle expressing Taiji. The three lines extending beside it represent time.”
Her voice was somewhat dark.
“It is an embroidery I placed there to remember that three years from now, the Wudang Sect Leader’s head disciple will die, his body turning black as if scorched by the sun and his organs drying up.”
“Pardon? The Wudang Sect Leader’s head disciple dies three years from now—what do you mean by that?”
Startled, Namgung Hyun asked, but instead of answering, Sohwa lowered her hand.
She pointed to the river flowing below. Her white finger traced the water downstream. She stopped in front of four plum blossoms and spoke.
“And four years from now, the training robe of a Mount Hua disciple who went missing on the Yangtze will be found.”
Turning her hand toward the ferry dock by the riverbank, Sohwa pointed at the thick green forest.
“And five years from now, the Dark Forest Stronghold of the Green Forest bandits, which had been annihilated, will reappear, intercept the Tang manor’s trading caravan heading for Hubei, and slaughter everyone traveling with them.”
She explained the embroidery motif by motif.
Gradually, Namgung Hyun began to understand what she meant.
Pointing to a tall pavilion hung with fifteen lanterns, she said,
“And fifteen years from now, Anguk Trading House Lord, with whom I was practically engaged, will formally enter into an engagement with Zhuge Cheonyu, and they will marry in that same month. At the time, I had never seen this place, so I only had a vague idea of the pavilion—but as it turned out, it resembled Baekgeumgak so closely that it’s quite recognizable.”
She continued her explanation. At last, when she had described every small image down in the lower right, Sohwa lowered her hand.
“These are all events yet to happen. I was seventeen when I embroidered this. If you subtract three or four years, the timing will be roughly correct. It was a timeline that flowed exactly as the Blood Demon desired, so be aware that if things diverge sharply from this here, the Blood Demon may start aiming for your throat.”
After a brief silence, Sohwa added,
“Of course, I’ve already changed a great many things, so there is a high chance it will not flow exactly like this. But if the Blood Demon comes to the Central Plains, events may once again start to follow his will.”
In a trembling voice, Namgung Hyun asked,
“How does Young Lady Tang know what is going to happen?”
He seemed to have guessed the reason, yet was trying to deny it.
With an emotionless face, Sohwa crushed that hope.
“I am under what they call punishment for killing a sorcerer. About twenty years from now, I killed the sorcerer appointed by Heaven—and I returned to the age of seventeen and have been blocking each future event one by one.”
Meeting Namgung Hyun’s eyes, she spoke coldly.
“Young Hero, you are the sorcerer appointed by Heaven.”
Namgung Hyun involuntarily stepped back.
Sohwa did not reach out to stop him. She simply raised a hand to her ear.
“The Blood Demon also knows that you are a sorcerer who can turn back time, so he will try to kill you at the necessary moment. If he crosses the line, you will repeat death countless times without even remembering it.”
Sohwa turned the red jade of her earring. A grain of millet dropped into her palm from within.
“This is Three-Breath Poison. If you swallow it and take three breaths, your breathing will cease. It’s a deadly poison that lets you die without feeling pain.”
The way Namgung Hyun looked different was a mirage formed by overlapping timelines.
The grace of the present covered the resentment of the past and obstructed her view.
Yet no matter how much grace swelled in size, it could not conceal a grudge that vast.
It could only cloud the heart.
Sohwa realized she could neither free herself from the resentment of the past nor be free of the kindness of the present.
So, before the pain born of confusion could seize her, she decided to sever the piled-up debt of kindness.
She took one step toward Namgung Hyun.
Placing the poison pill onto his faintly trembling hand, Sohwa said,
“This is my repayment for helping me in this life. If the Blood Demon comes to kill you, use it.”
After handing over the Three-Breath Poison she had cherished, Tang Sohwa slipped her hand into her sleeve.
She immediately poured the contents of a bottle onto the small Han Cheol plate. Light flared in the middle of the room and space ripped open. Standing right before Namgung Hyun, Sohwa vanished.
Namgung Hyun was in no state of mind to process the shocking words he had just heard.
Stunned out of his wits, he neither followed Tang Sohwa to the Great Desert nor did anything else—he merely watched until the door of the Passage closed.
