Hanseol and Ian were walking together through the inner courtyard of Binggung.

Hanseol was tasked with finding out to whom Wonju had made Hyangseol Bingju, but honestly, she felt at a loss.

‘Who should I even ask?’

This wasn’t a matter of brilliance or stupidity. It was a matter of experience. She had never once investigated a case like this before.

Still, she had no intention of giving up. Asking her mother for help wasn’t even on the table.

“Let’s start by going back to Baekjuseolwon.”

Her attitude toward Ian had softened somewhat. Until now, she had treated her as a subordinate of the Little Pill Master, but now she began addressing her as the daughter of Gwonma. Even if only an adopted daughter, she couldn’t treat the daughter of the Master carelessly.

“That’s a good idea.”

“Why [N O V E L I G H T] do you say that?”

“When I saw the late Wonju’s room, I thought, ‘Ah, this person really loved making alcohol.’ She probably spent more time at Baekjuseolwon than at home. So isn’t the answer we seek there?”

Hanseol nodded slightly at Ian’s words.

‘Everyone is so sharp.’

This time, Geom Mugeuk, Chwima, and Ian had completely shattered her preconceptions about the demonic martial artists.

She had thought them cruel, violent, and unrestrained in their desires.

But these three were unlike the Little Pill Master, the Master, or their subordinates she had imagined.

‘Still, I can’t lose to the demonic martial artists.’

Since Chwima had found a clue by investigating letters, she also wanted to show something—not to the Little Pill Master but to her mother.

She wanted to show the daughter who could overwhelm them. She was not the type to want to appear well to others, but toward her mother, some such feeling remained. Though not necessarily liking her mother, perhaps she hated her most of all.

“You’re back, Little Pill Master.”

The temporary Wonju of Baekjuseolwon greeted them, but Hanseol hadn’t come to see him.

Instead, she met Jo Myung (曺銘), the person responsible for the ingredients used in alcohol production there.

Jo Myung was very nervous about Hanseol’s visit.

“I have something to ask you.”

“Go ahead.”

“You must be busy, so I won’t beat around the bush. Did the late Wonju ever request ingredients to make Hyangseol Bingju?”

“No, she never did.”

Jo Myung’s voice trembled, perhaps from nervousness.

“This is important, so don’t lie to me.”

Hanseol gave him a cold look, and Jo Myung bowed his head.

Then Ian stepped forward.

“I think she made a promise to Wonju—not to tell anyone.”

Jo Myung lowered his head silently.

“We suspect that Wonju’s death is related to that alcohol.”

At that moment, Hanseol felt Jo Myung flinch.

“Isn’t finding those who caused Wonju’s death more important than keeping a promise?”

Jo Myung hesitated. Their relationship with the late Wonju must have been close enough to prevent outright denial. He was not the type to lie with a straight face.

He cautiously raised his head and asked.

“Did she really die because of that drink?”

“I believe so.”

Ian’s words were accepted by the Little Pill Master.

“Opportunities don’t always come. If we miss this one, we may never revisit Wonju’s death.”

Though cold in tone, the words had their effect.

Jo Myung no longer hid the truth.

“She quietly called me alone and asked me to procure ingredients for Hyangseol Bingju. It was said to be a rare drink secretly requested by an important person. She asked me to keep it secret, so I did. I’m sorry.”

“Did she say to whom it would be sent?”

“I don’t know that either.”

“Was there anyone close to Wonju?”

“There’s no one in particular. She liked to be alone.”

Having no more questions, Hanseol stopped.

“Since you touched the ingredients and left no record, you will be disciplined.”

“I’m prepared for that.”

It was clear he respected Wonju deeply. No wonder he had secretly supplied the ingredients.

Ian warmly comforted him for his honesty.

“Wonju would surely be grateful, too.”

The two then left.

Ian had a word on the tip of her tongue to tell him not to be punished but held back, fearing that mentioning it might cause trouble.

“Unusually kind for a demonic martial artist.”

Ian asked,

“In this martial world, who survives longer: the cruel or the kind?”

“Obviously…”

Hanseol said nothing, as the answer was so clear it hardly needed saying.

But Ian thought differently.

“I believe the kind survive longer.”

Kindness? Hanseol had never experienced it—neither receiving nor giving.

Still, Hanseol did not agree with Ian. To speak of kindness in this ruthless martial world?

Then Jo Myung ran up to them.

“I was too nervous earlier to remember, but I’ve seen Wonju drinking with Elder Seo several times. Since she didn’t socialize with others, it stuck with me.”

Jo Myung bowed and left again.

Ian smiled and said to Hanseol,

“That’s the result of kindness.”

Despite Ian’s joke, Hanseol’s expression remained serious.

“Why do you say that?”

“Nothing.”

But Ian sensed something troubling Hanseol when she heard the name Elder Seo. Calmly, Ian said,

“Wasn’t ‘nothing must be hidden’ the Little Pill Master’s condition?”

You don’t hide, I do. You don’t mean that, do you?

Seeing Ian’s gaze, Hanseol finally spoke hesitantly.

“Elder Seo is the only person Mother truly trusts.”

Elder Seo was a powerful figure inside Binggung, the Master’s greatest aide.

“Then it’s reasonable that Wonju trusted his request.”

He was a fitting person to have been entrusted with making the drink. Elder Seo’s character was also excellent.

But now, suspecting Hyangseol Bingju’s connection to her death, could the target be Elder Seo?

Whether Mother knows or not, it’s a problem either way.

Kindness helps one survive?

“Elder Seo is also the only person Mother treats kindly.”

Whoooooooosh.

The wind grew stronger as she kept walking.

The difficulty in traversing this place was not only the strength of the wind but the terrifying cold carried by it.

The cold was unbearable to humans, requiring massive inner strength to block.

Inner strength was consumed doubly—to resist flying away and to block the cold.

But now, she no longer worried about the cold, only the wind’s force.

Having become immune to heat and cold with Cheongidan and taken Mannyeonseolgwa, its effect was truly miraculous. The biting cold that could freeze blood felt like nothing.

So she expected to reach easily.

But with every step forward, the wind grew fiercer, its sound changing.

She was certain no one but a chosen person could pass here.

She was a chosen one.

After regression, she had gained vast inner strength, mastered Nine Flames Martial Arts and Cheonma Hoshingong, and taken Mannyeonseolgwa. Even so, she wondered if she could reach the end. Who else could break through this place?

‘Why are they seeking Extreme Cold Constitution?’

She briefly thought maybe it was to break through here, which was why she came.

But experiencing it herself, she was sure it was a different plot.

Further on, the wind grew so strong she could no longer think of anything else.

Calculating her inner strength, distance to the end, and rising wind strength. She couldn’t recklessly push her energy to the limit, nor conserve it too much and be blown away. She also calculated the minimum energy needed to protect her body if she weakened and was about to be blown away.

Walking with only the calculated energy, she began feeling pain. It hurt—a lot. She hadn’t expected the wind to cause such pain.

But raising her inner strength to avoid pain wasn’t an option; greater pain awaited later. She had to endure this to reach the end.

Unexpectedly, she needed more energy to protect her eardrums from the loud wind. The consumed inner strength returned as pain.

Hooooooosh!

‘Why am I even trying to come here? What if I get seriously injured?’

The desire to avoid pain endlessly tempted her.

If not for regression, she would never have come this far.

Back then, so many temptations plagued her. “Give up. How can a human regress? Give up and live your life now.”

She overcame those endless temptations and walked the lonely path alone.

‘I can walk this path, too.’

Step by step.

Her once ample inner strength in her dantian was nearly depleted.

‘Just a bit more.’

At the last moment, the wind’s sound ceased and calm returned.

Was it hallucination? If she slipped into possession by demonic energy, it would be terrible.

If it was a premonition, she had to give up immediately.

But she steadily moved forward. The step taken quietly had always been how she defeated temptation.

Gooooooosh!

As she overcame temptation, a wind sound she’d never heard before came again.

At last, she reached the wind’s source. The wind’s force peaked. Using all her reserved energy, she maximized Hoshingong and Cheonma Hoshingong.

‘I’m here! Just here! Please!’

Enduring the pain tearing her whole body, she took the final step.

Passing through the valley and turning aside to avoid, the pain vanished as if by magic. She had escaped the tremendous wind.

“I made it!”

She couldn’t help but exclaim relief at being alive.

Wind blew through the valley she had just escaped. It blew so strongly that waves in the wind could be seen as snow.

The wind’s source was the sky. From far above, wind blew diagonally down the valley with fierce force. It looked as if a demon were sucking all the world’s air into its mouth. A truly mysterious, strange, and terrifying sight.

And then she realized.

Simply arriving here was a greater fateful encounter than any other.

She had unleashed all her inner strength while breaking through here.

Used every ounce of potential as a martial artist, leaving none unused. After that, she felt like she saw through herself transparently.

She felt her martial arts realm had risen. She seemed stronger. It was a strange experience and feeling.

She was sure this experience would affect Nine Flames Martial Arts as well.

Turning her back on the demon’s wind-sucking mouth, she slowly stepped forward.

Behind was a huge cliff, too high to see the top. The mountain ridge blocked all the opposite direction. It looked like a place unreachable without breaking through the wind valley.

Ahead, spring unfolded—flowers bloomed, birds flew, rabbits and deer watched her but didn’t flee. They looked at her as if seeing a human for the first time.

Mystical energy overflowed. It was the primal wonder never before touched by humans.

And she saw.

A single person standing in the middle of it all.

He stood with his hands behind his back—an old man. An old man here? Surely not an ordinary person.

Suddenly, someone came to mind. No way? It couldn’t be him.

“Elder?”

She cautiously called out. The old man slowly turned toward her.

Surprisingly, it was the very same old man who had sent her back in time.

“Elder!”

The old man smiled brightly, shaking a wine bottle he held.

“Didn’t I say we’d drink together next time we meet?”

It was what he said just before sending her back.

So she had a premonition he might appear again someday. And that day was today.

“I’m abstaining from alcohol now. You came at just the right time, huh? Trying to tease me.”

The old man laughed heartily.

“You’re much brighter than before.”

“Thanks to you.”

The old man looked deeply at her, then slowly approached and patted her shoulder.

“You’ve worked hard. You’re doing well.”

Hearing those words, her chest tightened.

Though she tried hard to express herself to others in all ways,

She must have wanted to hear it too.

She wanted comfort from someone who had known her efforts from beginning to end—from before regression until now. Just that one word of encouragement was enough.

“I’m abstaining, so let’s drink next time.”

“Already leaving?”

“You know I’m busy with many people looking for me.”

Still, it felt good, as if he might come again.

Whooooooosh.

A gust of wind blew.

The old man vanished with the wind, and so did the paradise-like scenery around her. The trees, grass, and animals disappeared with him.

Now, only snow and ice remained.

He came and went so quickly it felt like a dream. Had she hallucinated? She was exhausted, having used all her mental and inner strength.

But no. The pat on her shoulder was too vivid. She was so glad to see him again.

Having forgotten to look up at the sky these past days, he had come to see her directly. She would look up more often now and hoped he would watch over her until the end.

Stop pretending to be busy when we meet. And… truly, thank you.