Near Cheonju Mountain.
Here, an assassin stood watch over the pass, holding his breath.
A carriage, which had been pushing through the mist, gradually slowed down and eventually came to a stop in a quiet part of the forest.
There was not a soul in sight. It wasn’t unusual, given that they had taken a wide detour below the cliffs as a precaution.
“Young Lady, I think it would be best to rest here for a moment before continuing.”
A servant opened the carriage door.
The woman who stepped down, guided by the servant’s hand, carried an aura so dignified that it was hard to believe she was traveling with just a single carriage and one attendant in such a remote mountain pass.
The assassin hidden behind a tree drew a steady breath.
Has the time come?
At last, the patience of trailing them nonstop was about to pay off. His eyes focused keenly on the woman taking slow, deliberate steps.
“Please rest here for a while. I’ll go fetch something for you to eat.”
“You’re the one doing all the hard work, Seol Yeong.”
“Don’t say that, young lady.”
Once the servant left, the woman inhaled deeply. The assassin crept forward quietly, syncing footsteps with the whispering wind, and repeated her name under his breath.
Namgung Soyou.
Roughly fifteen days ago, she had suddenly appeared—an out-of-wedlock daughter of the Namgung Clan.
She was the ten-years-younger sister of Namgung Jeokmyeong, the clan’s young patriarch. Born severely frail, she was said to have been raised deep in the mountains to recover her health.
But this was nothing more than a convenient cover. In truth, it was widely believed she had been driven out beyond Cheonju Mountain.
Then, once she came of age and it was time for her to marry, the family called her back—only to send her off again, this time to an even more distant land, as if casting her out all over again. It was a treatment so heartless, it was almost chilling.
Did she incur the clan patriarch’s hatred or something?
But that didn’t quite add up—wasn’t the illegitimate daughter’s conduct, in every way, proper and reserved?
The current patriarch of the Namgung Clan was old and ailing. Rumors had spread that he had fallen into deep melancholy after the sudden death of his wife years ago.
They called him “Thunder Dragon of the Mind,” yet he was said to linger at death’s door, all due to a sickness of the heart. Absurd, really.
It’s only natural for a person to want to cast off their worldly sins when standing before the Samdocheon. And if she were his own daughter, wouldn’t it make more sense to bring her back and care for her, even if belatedly…?
Not that it’s any of my concern.
The assassin clicked his tongue and brushed away the thought. He stepped closer.
“Emperor Wu once asked the Great Monk Bodhidharma—”
Suddenly, a soft and distant voice drifted through the still mountain air.
“Since I ascended the throne, I have built temples and compiled sutras to support the monks. How great must my merit be?”
Namgung Soyou’s voice, as delicate as that of a fairy, was clear—yet carried a faint dryness and emptiness.
“And Bodhidharma answered—”
At the very moment their eyes met—though she was supposed to be blind—the assassin held his breath.
“None whatsoever.”
Ah! The assassin let out a short sigh before he even realized it.
She was truly like a lone flower in bloom.
Her pale, round face framed by lashes as delicate as butterfly wings. A high forehead, a dainty nose, and softly curved lips—all in perfect balance. She exuded the quiet elegance of a noble daughter, not fragile as rumored, but still delicate.
Even if she was an illegitimate one.
That soft sigh of his must have drawn her attention.
Her upper body turned in his direction, though slightly misaligned, not quite pinpointing him.
“Seol Yeong?”
Yes. This unfortunate flower had no sight.
The assassin remained silent and tightened his grip on his dagger. He had a mission to carry out: to assassinate this pitiful young woman.
Was it the silence that unnerved her? Namgung Soyou stepped back slightly and asked again.
“Who’s there?”
“……”
“Whose orders are you acting on?”
Was it simply her heightened senses as a blind person? Or had she faced countless such threats before? Either way, her awareness was impressive.
Just who is this woman?
Until now, she had remained safe under the protection of the Namgung Clan, the greatest sword sect in the Central Plains. But not today.
The assassin had waited three days for this exact moment, when Namgung Soyou would be left alone.
And yet, standing before her with a flashing dagger, she looked utterly pitiful. A blind girl who’s frozen in place and unable to even flee.
That strange sense of pity welled up inside him—so uncharacteristic it irritated him.
“Lady Namgung. If you surrender quietly, I’ll make it painless.”
Namgung Soyou gently shook her head.
“I asked whose orders you’re acting on.”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Was it my brother, Namgung Jeokmyeong?”
“I said I can’t tell you.”
Oddly, she remained disturbingly calm.
Even in this remote place, if she screamed, things could become troublesome. The assassin shook off his misplaced sympathy and hurled his dagger at her heart.
But things didn’t go as he expected.
“…Though I see, I do not see. Though I meet, I do not meet.”
Her teal sleeve fluttered like a wave, painting the air.
“Whether past or present, it is a sorrow and regret.”
Her lovely voice brushed his ears like a whisper.
And before he could process it, her pale face like a doll’s, was suddenly right before his eyes.
What the—?!
Only then did the assassin realize: Namgung Soyou’s blind eyes were locked precisely on his face.
Damn it.
He instinctively drew his sword, but far too late. A powerful grip pressed down on the back of his hand, immobilizing his weapon.
The assassin couldn’t believe what was happening. How could a woman with such delicate hands suppress him so easily?
In that moment, for reasons he didn’t understand, she let him go.
Now!
He seized the moment, drew his sword, and slashed at her throat.
Or rather, tried to.
Screech—
His blade was blocked effortlessly by the very dagger he had thrown earlier. He let out a dry laugh. That attack had been infused with internal energy!
Again.
Once more.
Just one more time!
But no matter how hard he gritted his teeth, nothing changed.
Namgung Soyou deflected all his strikes with that single short dagger. It was hopeless. His limbs were like reeds in the wind, powerless before her.
How… how is this possible?
A cold sweat rolled down his back.
Something was wrong.
Could this woman truly be Namgung Soyou, the unwanted illegitimate daughter of the Namgung Clan?
But by the time the assassin admitted the overwhelming difference in skill, it was already too late. He had dropped his sword. She merely watched him calmly.
No more resistance. It’s meaningless now.
There was only one move left.
The assassin reached into his robe and pulled out his final dagger—his last resort—to take his own life.
But that, too, ended in failure.
Whoosh—
“Guh!”
Her first dagger, thrown like a wedge, shattered the second one in his hand.
Now completely powerless, the assassin gave up. He clenched his eyes shut, waiting for death to come.
But no matter how long he waited, only silence greeted him.
When he finally opened his eyes, Namgung Soyou was standing before him, calm as ever.
And she spoke.
“Sit.”
