TSBIRBV Ch 13

Chapter 13 Baembaem-i(1)

By this point, Yegyeol figured they must have heard everything, so he walked past them.

Even an ordinary servant carrying the plow knew of the news, which meant the Madu¹ had already passed through Cheonghae and entered Shingang long ago. In any case, what Yegyeol cared about was news of his senior brother, not some snake or Madu stories unrelated to him.

When Yegyeol finished his solitary meal and returned to his master’s quarters, Baekyang Jin‑in was stroking his long beard while poring over a book.

Every time he saw his master looking so aged, Yegyeol felt strangely unsettled.

“You’re back?”

“Yes.”

“Have you done the sweeping?”

“I cleared the snow the moment I woke up.”

“Cultivation always begins with keeping one’s surroundings clean. Do not neglect even sweeping.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

He would assign work yet never bother to check the results. He would mouth lofty teachings, but they felt hollow inside.

Baekyang Jin‑in kept him close but never offered a single affectionate word. He neither asked about Je Ha‑ryang nor questioned how Yegyeol was still alive.

His indifference was so deliberate that it was obvious—he was forcing himself to stay uninvolved, to keep his distance.

Why did he even accept me?

And why has he not cast me out?

While Baekyang Jin‑in was away meeting the other disciples, Yegyeol wiped the tea table and organized the books. The simple labor helped him clear his mind.

He gathered six or so volumes in his arms and started walking when he bumped into a chair he hadn’t yet put away.

“Ah!”

Though he staggered, he quickly regained balance.

In my past life, I would have fallen flat for sure.

Just as he was feeling smug, the book on top slipped and fell. Yegyeol swiftly snatched the cover midair with quick reflexes.

“That was close.”

He was relieved no one saw, but then something wedged between the books scattered onto the floor.

“…Huh?”

It was an envelope—one quite familiar to him.

“Cheonghae Merchant Guild Master”

Sliding his finger over the handwriting on the cover, Yegyeol’s face stiffened. He went to the stack where Baekyang Jin‑in’s recently read books were placed and pulled them out one by one.

Hidden among them, he found seven envelopes in total. These were all letters he himself had sent; if there were more, they must be hidden elsewhere.

Yegyeol’s eyes turned cold. If someone else were here, they would have seen a golden torrent raging within his gaze.

It had already been weeks since he anxiously feared being abandoned by his Guide. Even today, how badly had he wanted to lie about wolves appearing just to send word?

Senior Brother… what do you think of me?

Just thinking of it made his eyes sting red.

He had begged repeatedly for replies, yet his master had returned to Kunlun and promptly forgotten about Haryang, sending not a single word. What sort of master ignored a disciple so thoroughly? Any lingering fondness would surely crumble.

Rage surged to the very top of his head. He could have struck this hall with six bolts of lightning and still not felt satisfied.

Yet when Yegyeol finally raised his head, his face was utterly calm. He carefully tucked the letters he had written into Baekyang Jin‑in’s books—into the very places where the old man had hidden them.

In truth, he bore little affection for this master from his previous life. It was not the man’s teachings he cherished but the fact that being under him made him Je Ha‑ryang’s junior brother.

He doesn’t want me contacting Senior Brother, yet he still agreed to take me in at Senior Brother’s awkward request…

If he truly disliked it, he could have burned the letters outright. Instead, he dispersed them across hidden spots. The letters themselves contained nothing special, mindful even of Je Ha‑ryang, the intended recipient.

They simply said he was doing well in Kunlun and inquired after his senior’s health. Yegyeol was not foolish enough to include complaints about his master in letters entrusted to that same master.

Questions chased one another endlessly in his mind. Yet even as he pondered, Yegyeol’s hands kept moving with the dry cloth.

Before long, Baekyang Jin‑in returned to the room. Setting the teapot onto the cleaned table, he spoke.

“The water for brewing tea has run out. Refill it sometime today.”

“Yes, Master.”

Yegyeol bowed his head.

Inwardly, he had already tied his master up and blasted him with lightning countless times, but outwardly, he was the picture of a dutiful disciple.

He quickly left the room, putting on his outer garment. This coat was a gift from Je Ha‑ryang, lined with layers of white sable fur—warm and luxurious. Stroking the fur a few times, Yegyeol set off up the mountain path. To gather clean eternal snow, he would need to climb high and move fast.

“The world is really testing my patience.”

He grumbled as he trudged through the snow. Days of constant snowfall had piled it up to his knees. With every step forward, his feet sank deep.

If he could relearn lightfoot skills, even the level of “leaving no trace on snow” wouldn’t be beyond him, but without a dantian², brute force was all he had. At least, being born an Esper³ allowed him to move lightly; without that physical boost, he would have collapsed long before reaching the snowfield.

“My hardware is a mess, but at the same time, this hardware is so overpowered I won’t freeze to death…”

It was ironic: his status as an Esper prevented him from learning internal martial arts, yet also allowed him to glide through this snow.

As he neared his destination, something bumped against his foot. Wearing thick clothes and surrounded by snow, Yegyeol stumbled and fell forward.

“What… what is this?”

Through the disturbed snow, he saw a human torso.

The face was pale, chest unmoving—like a corpse discarded here.

But Yegyeol did not let his guard down. He sensed faint traces of life—a perception unique to an Esper like him.

All human bodies carry electrical signals: from the heart, the brain, even muscles and skin.

By touching others, Yegyeol could detect these bio‑electric signals.

“Feigning Death Technique?”⁴

One of the martial world’s secret arts, used either to deceive enemies or to recover from grievous wounds.

Yegyeol instinctively stepped back before the man awoke. Quickly, he drew a flute from his robe and put it to his lips.

To encounter a hidden master using the Feigning Death Technique on Mount Kunlun—surely this spelled danger.

Wait… no sound?

No matter how hard he blew, the flute remained silent. Maybe it required a special technique, like a vertical bamboo flute, so he kept trying forcefully, but nothing happened.

Then, as if reacting to Yegyeol’s presence, the man’s hand twitched. Yegyeol tried to retreat to avoid confrontation, but it was already too late.

The martial artist lying prone slowly rose to his feet. From the ground he had seemed unremarkable, but standing, he was massive, with a vicious face.

Cracking his wrist as if stiff, the man turned his gaze toward Yegyeol.

“Hey, kid. Give me a sip of water and I won’t eat you.”

The man grinned, exposing blackened teeth, exuding a far more menacing aura than when he had seemed lifeless. Seized by the collar, Yegyeol sent static electricity jolting through the man’s palm.

Had he used a blade, perhaps it would have worked better, but the sharp zap alone made the man release him in surprise. Yegyeol quickly put distance between them.

“Not bad—quite a spark there. Is that lightning energy I sense?”

The Madu licked his lips, confusion flickering across his face.

“Are you a pursuer from the Namgung Clan⁵? So you finally caught up to me. But did you think I’d die quietly?”

The Namgung Clan’s territory in Anhui was practically on the opposite side of Cheonghae. In modern terms, it would be a few hours by plane, but here in the martial world, the fastest transport was horseback.

For him to be tracked down even after fleeing so far shocked the Madu.

“I’m a disciple of Kunlun! To climb this mountain without the sect’s permission—who are you?”

“Oh, so you’re not from Namgung? Guess it was just that zap I felt.”

The man muttered to himself, ignoring Yegyeol’s demand. His gaze kept drifting in and out of focus.

“Well, doesn’t matter. Young Kunlun disciple, did you ask my identity?”

Yegyeol only glared, silent. Facing this mysterious fiend without even a wooden practice sword, he felt no fear at all.

“In the martial world, they call me the Yin‑Soul Demon.”

“Yin‑Soul Demon?”

Yegyeol echoed. The name reeked of demonic sects or unorthodox clans.

“Kekeke. So you’ve heard of this old man. Well? Do you feel like handing me a drink now?”

“Who’s that supposed to be?”

The Yin‑Soul Demon froze for a moment.

“To think someone would dare feign ignorance of the infamous me, scourge of the central plains! Such depth of cunning in a child!”

Perhaps his pride was wounded, for the man’s veins bulged as he shouted furiously.

“Maybe you should’ve been more famous, then.”

Yegyeol placed the water jar he’d brought for the eternal snow carefully on the ground. A battle seemed inevitable; better to safeguard it. Without lightfoot techniques, hauling water back to Kunlun again would be a nightmare.

“Brat! I was going to leave peacefully once I had food and drink, but your arrogance pierces the heavens!”

“Being chased by the Namgung Clan wasn’t enough—you want Kunlun on your tail too? Think you can survive that?”

“Heh. If I kill you and hide, no one will ever know.”

The Yin‑Soul Demon sneered, his grin dripping cruelty. Clearly, he hadn’t earned that nickname playing cards.

Well, maybe mahjong in this case.

“When Namgung traces your trail and hears a Kunlun disciple has gone missing, they’ll come here and expose you. Evil arts always leave distinct traces, after all.”

Though Yegyeol spoke casually, his eyes were measuring the distance between them. With Je Ha‑ryang absent, he had to conserve his energy.

“By then, I’ll already be within the Heavenly Demon Sect. Once I present them this precious tribute, the cult leader himself will welcome me under his wing.”

The man rambled on, clearly itching to boast. The more he talked, the less Yegyeol cared.

“Go consult a career counselor about your life plans!”

Yegyeol hurled a bolt of lightning straight at the man’s head. Sensing the ominous charge, the Yin‑Soul Demon flung himself sideways, rolling across the ground.

“Ugh—what the hell?!”

Escaping the bolt’s path using a unique movement art, the man gaped at the sight: the snow had melted away, the ground charred black.

That spark he felt earlier was no illusion.

“What kind of sorcery is this?!”

Clicking his tongue, Yegyeol surveyed the scorched ground. Hiding this later would be troublesome.

“Sorcery is what you call demonic arts like yours.”

His voice, naturally edged with irritation, slipped from his lips.

“Let’s finish this already. I need to gather snow and get down the mountain before sunset.”

¹ Madu (마두): A term referring to a powerful figure or leader within demonic sects of the martial world.

² Dantian (단전): In martial arts and Taoist cultivation, an energy center in the lower abdomen used for internal energy storage and circulation.

³ Esper: Borrowed from modern terminology, referring here to individuals born with supernatural psychic abilities.

⁴ Feigning Death Technique (귀식대법): A martial arts skill allowing one to fake death or enter a death‑like state for stealth or recovery.

⁵ Namgung Clan (남궁세가): One of the prominent martial families in wuxia settings, often depicted as upright and prestigious.