Chapter 259: Reputation (5)
We had allowed ourselves a rather generous schedule as we made our way to Shaolin.
Tang Sowol clung tightly to my side, her hand firmly grasping mine.
It wasn't quite the heart-fluttering act of lovers, and there was far too much warmth for that.
To put it simply, it felt more like a mother tending to her child.
“Brother Cheon, is there anything uncomfortable? If there’s anything you need, please let me know anytime.”
“Ah, right. I’ll take care of it for you.”
With a strange mix of guilt and eagerness on her face, Tang Sowol straightened my collar and lightly brushed my hair into shape.
Needless to say, there was no real need for her to do that. I'm not the type to fuss over appearances, but given where we were going, I had at least made myself presentable.
And now, she even pulled out a canteen, trying to hold it up to my mouth. I slowly turned my head away.
A clear expression of refusal. “That’s enough.”
“B-Brother Cheon……?”
She looked as if her world had just collapsed. My once-firm resolve softened a little, and I answered her in a gentler tone.
“It’s fine. You really don’t have to do anything. Just now… I stayed silent because that was the seventh time today you've asked the same question. I wasn’t sure where to begin answering.”
“Whew… So that’s what it was. I’m glad it wasn’t a mental restriction.”
“What do you even think a mental restriction is? Just act like you normally would. Like usual…”
Maybe I mentioned the restriction too carelessly, or perhaps I was skirting too close to its boundary.
Before I knew it, my lips clamped shut—I'd triggered the restriction for real.
It’s not usually this sensitive, but now that Tang Sowol knows about it, her overreactions seem to be making it trigger more often.
Taking care to avoid activating it again, I organized my thoughts and spoke carefully.
“If you’re feeling guilty about how cold you were to me before, really, there’s no need. You don’t have to worry about it.”
“How could I not feel guilty? Even if I didn’t know the circumstances, I hurt you deeply, didn’t I?”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“I heard everything from Lihyang. That you stayed shut in your room like dried fish left out on a sunny day.”
“Ah.”
Seol Lihyang…!
I shot her a glare, and—perhaps realizing her betrayal—she quickly averted her eyes.
We’ll talk later.
But my inner grumbling was interrupted as Tang Jincheon, who had been walking ahead, clicked his tongue in disapproval.
“Tch. Making my Sowol flustered like that in front of me, isn’t that going too far?”
“I told her I’m fine, but she keeps doing this…”
“I know, which is why I’ll leave it at that. But if it turns out you did that on purpose, you'd be sparring with your future father-in-law by now.”
“Oh. If it’s a spar, is poison banned?”
“You little…! You sulking just because I scolded you—isn’t that the real problem?”
Now that I’m also a martial artist at the Flowering Stage, I suppose he’s not confident about a poison-free match. Tang Jincheon shook his head and changed the topic.
He probably didn’t know the full details, but he had picked up on the general mood.
Still, seeing his beloved daughter practically offering up her liver and gallbladder to someone must not sit well with him.
I get it. I do. But honestly, I’m a little aggrieved myself.
How was I supposed to know he’d start acting so overprotective overnight?
Muttering quietly to Tang Sowol, I asked,
“Could you maybe repeat the things you said to your father… about ten years ago?”
“Hmm?”
“You know, the kind of rebellious stuff kids your age usually say.”
“Oh? I do remember a few things, but… why all of a sudden?”
“Just say a few of them for me. Do that, and I’ll completely forget everything that happened that night. Wipe the slate clean.”
“If that’s all it takes.”
Tang Sowol nodded with a determined look and turned toward Tang Jincheon.
“Um. Father??”
“Hmm? What is it, Sowol?”
Tang Jincheon’s face instantly melted with affection. Practically beaming.
And then it cracked.
“Could you please stop opening my room door without warning!”
Yelp!
“I’m not saying I hate you, but I’m a bit too old for morning hugs every day… and your beard is scratchy.”
“Geh!”
“Hmph! I don’t care about you anymore! I’m not speaking to you for the rest of the day!”
“Guooaagh!”
So that’s how long her rebellion lasts—until dinnertime.
As I nodded at this new bit of knowledge, Tang Sowol ran back over to me, leaving Tang Jincheon clutching his chest like he’d just suffered an inner demon attack.
“How was that?! I did well, didn’t I, Brother Cheon?”
She looked up at me with sparkling eyes, just like a puppy expecting praise.
It was hard to believe this sunny face belonged to the same person who’d just stabbed a metaphorical knife into her father.
Watching her for a moment, I reached out and gently squished her cheeks with both hands.
“Yeah. Good job. With this, nothing ever happened between us, and we’re still the loving, engaged couple we’ve always been.”
“Yay~!”
She jumped with joy. As I watched her fondly, I felt a sharp glare from nearby.
When I smirked at Tang Jincheon, who was staring daggers, a vein bulged in his temple.
“You… Make sure to have a daughter just like Sowol. I pray she gives you the same grief!”
“Thank you for your blessing. But if she takes after Tang Sowol, she’ll surely like me, so I doubt your wish will come true. My condolences.”
“You little—!!”
Tang Jincheon leapt forward, but there wasn’t much he could do with me already hiding behind Tang Sowol.
As the chaos unfolded, Seol Lihyang, who had been watching from a short distance away, suddenly spoke.
“Sister Hwarin… you're not going to say things like that to Cheon Hwi, right?”
“What do you take this one for?!”
Seo Mun-Hwarin sprang up in outrage, but her reaction was as harmless as Tang Jincheon’s behind his daughter-shield.
***
While a lot went on between us, the journey to Songshan itself was uneventful.
Perhaps the troublemakers of the martial world were keeping their heads down after my successful subjugation of the Green Forest Bandits.
Whatever the reason, our journey was peaceful in a good way—and we finally arrived at Songshan.
Despite not having seen it for a long while, the ridiculously long and steep staircase remained just as imposing.
At the top, standing at the main gate, were monks with cleanly shaven heads waiting for us.
Two monks stood guard on either side of the gate.
Once they confirmed our faces and the uniforms of the Tang family escorts with us, they immediately bowed respectfully.
“Namo Amitabha. Are you perhaps from the Tang Family?”
“That’s right. We were invited by the Abbot for a meeting.”
“Just as I thought! We were informed. Please, come inside.”
The monk, having exchanged a few words with Tang Jincheon, stepped aside to make way.
Well, for a place like Shaolin, it's only natural that gatekeepers would recognize well-known faces.
And I’m sure they had been notified in advance.
It’s a stark contrast from back then, when I was carrying the unconscious Monk Gakjeong and holding a Tang family badge, yet still got delayed at the gate.
Smirking slightly at the memory, I walked past the gatekeepers—only for one of them to suddenly suck in a sharp breath.
“Hhuh!”
“Hm? Something wrong?”
“N-No, nothing at all!”
“Doesn’t sound like nothing to me.”
“Um… by any chance…”
He hesitated, then carefully asked.
“Are you the White Moon Sword Lord?”
“I am.”
“I knew it!”
The monk’s eyes sparkled as he respectfully cupped his fists.
“It is an honor to meet you!”
“Hm.”
Slightly taken aback, I returned the gesture with a light nod.
The monk started trembling with emotion.
What’s going on?
But the strange behavior didn’t end there.
After entering Shaolin, I began to notice more and more things.
Little novice monks peeked around corners like they had come just to see me, only to be scolded back to their duties by older monks.
Other monks—still sweating from training—or even elderly monks who appeared to hold high positions, were also clearly showing interest in me.
Some more openly than others.
Sensing all this attention, I turned to Tang Sowol, who still hadn’t left my side.
“All these stares… it's getting a bit uncomfortable. Do you know what’s going on?”
“Oh my. Have you really not noticed, Brother Cheon?”
“Noticed what?”
“All those people came out hoping to catch a glimpse of the famed White Moon Sword Lord.”
“...Huh??”
“Fufu. You’ve been busy meeting with the likes of the Black Lotus Sect Master, the Ironblood Hall Master, and others of their rank, so you haven’t had a chance to notice—but the praise has been pouring in for some time now.”
For some reason, Tang Sowol looked even more proud than I felt.
Wondering if she was right, I focused my internal energy and listened to the surrounding sounds.
The hum of bugs became louder. The crunch of dirt underfoot grew more distinct.
And among the noise, I heard clear whispers.
“Is that really the White Moon Sword Lord?”
“He looks young, just like the rumors said… and to think he took down the Forest Chief of Green Forest…”
“Hey, it’s just that the monks look old. He’s probably around our age.”
“Maybe, but his martial level is on a different plane entirely.”
Similar conversations were happening all around.
Before regression, I was well-known in certain circles and had heard my share of flattery, but this felt different.
Even compared to how the Tang family treated me, it was noticeably distinct.
In the Tang family, the eyes I received were full of warmth and gratitude—as the benefactor who saved Tang Sowol and brought prosperity to the family.
Here, it was admiration, awe, and just a hint of envy.
“In truth, it was the same after you defeated the Poison King.”
“Well, back then, as you said, I was too busy moving around. And while people were surprised by my martial prowess, I never got looks of admiration like this.”
“To add a little more context, while the Poison King is unforgettable to us, he’s a fading figure of a bygone era in the Central Plains.”
“But the King of Assassin is someone currently spreading his infamous reputation, huh.”
Since information about the Sword Ghost or the Heavenly Demon was being suppressed to avoid public panic, it probably hadn’t been widely reported.
Still, knowing the reason made me feel a bit more at ease.
“Fufu. In that sense, I’m glad it’s Shaolin we’re visiting.”
“Wouldn’t have mattered either way.”
“Oh, but it does. Unless there’s a special reason, women aren’t allowed in Shaolin—it’s a male-only sect.”
“Huh?”
“If this were the Murim Alliance, you’d be swarmed by annoying flies. I trust you, Brother Cheon, but imagine how tedious it would be to shoo them all away.”
“...So that’s the reason? Then what about Seol Lihyang and Senior Seorin?”
“I gave them permission. Besides, they’re good people.”
Calling Seo Mun-Hwarin a “girl” still felt wrong somehow, but that thought quickly faded as I remembered how both she and I had collapsed like dried fish from a single conversation with Tang Jincheon.
Honestly...
Maybe the real power behind the Tang Family of Sichuan was Tang Sowol all along.
Casting a sideways glance at her, I followed her lead toward the Great Hall, where the Shaolin Abbot awaited.