Chapter 1
There are children who grow up unusually early.
It’s often the overly clever, the overly perceptive—or the chronically ill. Children raised under strict discipline in prestigious Central Plains families were like that, too.
Seol Woon-yeong (雪雲英), the youngest of the Seol Clan, was a child who matured early. Having lost her birth mother at birth, she was born frail.
She thought of herself as a burden, but she never pitied her situation.
At the age of ten—until the day she was told she wouldn’t live long.
But the life that was supposed to be short… continued, and continued again.
— Survive. Live… and return to the Seol Clan.
She was fifteen when everything in the Seol Clan vanished. Her father’s words, just before sending her off alone to escape.
And so, Woon-yeong survived.
At thirty-nine, she lived with all her might until the very end. She was called the Ghost of the Flower Blade (花容劍鬼), rose to become one of the Ten Great Masters under Heaven (天下十大高手), and gave her all to exact her revenge.
But she was never able to return to the Seol Clan.
At the moment her heart was pierced, a brilliant light of five colors burst before her eyes.
I must go back… to the Seol Clan…
That was her final thought as she closed her eyes.
…So this is how painful death is.
Heat surged through her body. It felt like her living flesh was being scorched.
Woon-yeong tried to endure it, but she couldn’t. She wanted to scream, but no sound came out. Only tears streamed uncontrollably.
Is this the fire of hell…?
She didn’t know how long she endured it, but the heat eventually began to fade.
And then—
It kept dropping. Her body grew colder, as though freezing solid from the chill.
…Was it when I was ten? I think I felt this kind of pain back then too. It’s familiar.
No more tears fell. Just as she was about to give up everything—
A warm hand wiped her face. The hand massaged her arms and legs without pause.
Warmth slowly returned to her body. Her senses gradually awakened.
They said I wouldn’t last long…
Even in pain, Woon-yeong let out a faint laugh. Her senses sharpened. A voice reached her ears.
“…Huh? Yeong-ah? Can you see your father?”
Hell was terribly kind and cruel.
First it tormented the body—then it pierced the heart.
Hell had begun to show her a sweet dream.
“Yeong-ah. Yeong-ah.”
It was the voice of someone she longed for. Her father’s voice, long forgotten.
Cruel as it was—what did it matter?
Woon-yeong slowly forced her eyelids open. Who knew opening one’s eyes could be so hard?
Blink.
Once more—blink.
Shapes began to form.
A man with a serene expression bore the face of her father, Seol Ja-dan (雪自亶).
No—he was her father, Seol Ja-dan.
With effort, she squeezed out her voice to call the one she missed. What a merciless dream.
“…Fa… Father?”
“Yes, I’m here. Your father is right here.”
“Why… why are you… in hell…?”
Suddenly, an unbearable sadness overtook her.
Why… why must you, Father, be in hell?
“Just me… being alive… was already too much…”
Someone like Seol Ja-dan should never have ended up in hell.
This absurdity—it was heartbreaking.
The world itself was cruel—and that cruelty made her weep at the sight of her father.
So Woon-yeong burst into tears.
“Waaaaahhh!”
She cried like a child, shedding the tears she had long held back.
So what? This is probably a dream—an illusion. No one will know if I cry a little.
“Waaaaah, sob, why is Father… why are you in hell…”
“No, Yeong-ah, what are you saying? I’m right here.”
“Lord Seol, it seems the young lady is dreaming.”
Huh? A dream? I was dreaming? Of course, I must’ve been dreaming…
Even as she cried, Woon-yeong began to feel something was… off.
This isn’t a dream? Then… what is it? Did I return… to the Seol Clan?
Is this really… the Seol Clan?
“Yeong-ah!”
At the sound of Seol Ja-dan’s voice, Woon-yeong lost consciousness once again.
The fever returned, and she slipped into a deep sleep, racked with pain.
It was a day with relentless snowfall. The estate of the Seol Clan—famed for its beauty—was drenched in blood.
Dozens of black-clad assailants scaled the estate walls. Their identity unknown, they wielded weapons against everyone in the clan. Though warriors protected the grounds, they couldn’t withstand the attackers’ strength.
The black-clad men slaughtered everyone—elders, children, men and women, servants, and the family alike.
Everyone fell.
— I’ll buy time. Take… Yeong-ah and run.
In a panic, Seol Ja-dan brought Woon-yeong to the secret passage beneath the main hall and gave orders to the steward, Hong Sogyo.
His gaze lingered on the necklace around Woon-yeong’s neck.
— It was your mother’s. Don’t lose it, no matter what.
— No. I don’t want to. I don’t want to go alone. I want to stay with you, Father.
She clung to him in tears, but Seol Ja-dan didn’t yield. As the attackers’ footsteps drew near, he simply drew his sword.
Woon-yeong didn’t know.
That her merchant father, Seol Ja-dan, had mastered martial arts.
— Yeong-ah, your father is strong. I will protect the Seol Clan. So you must run. And survive…
He looked into her eyes.
— Live… and return to the Seol Clan. Wear that necklace and come back. I’ll be waiting here. Can you do that for me?
At his tender words, Woon-yeong lowered her head. Did she say yes? She couldn’t remember what she had answered.
But one question lingered—why did she have to escape alone?
She wanted to stay with her family. If they were all going to die anyway, she wanted to die with them.
Even if she’d tried to distance herself… they were still her family.
The sorrow on Seol Ja-dan’s face left her no room to argue.
She wanted to speak, but couldn’t. Exhausted from crying, she lost consciousness.
Hong Sogyo carried her out of the secret passage. Less than an hour later, the snow-covered estate of the Seol Clan was engulfed in flames.
In a single night, the five-hundred-year-old Seol Clan that had protected Hongan County in Hubei Province… was annihilated. No one knew who was behind the massacre. The clan vanished without leaving even a cornerstone behind.
It happened the year Woon-yeong turned fifteen.
That nightmare had haunted her nights ever since. Sweat beaded on her forehead.
She could feel her fever subsiding again. Slowly, her senses returned.
The gentle scent of osmanthus flowers entered her nose.
Then, her consciousness came back.
Seol Clan’s Yeonhong Garden. Her bedroom.
She remembered—it wasn’t a dream.
What a bizarre miracle… I died, and yet… I’ve returned to my childhood. I was about ten, wasn’t I?
A terrible fever.
Born weak, she’d always been sickly, but this time was worse.
Seol Ja-dan summoned countless doctors, yet none could name her illness.
They all called it a fever. That was it.
She drifted in and out of consciousness for over a month before the fever broke.
Yes, it must be that time. That was the first time I’d ever been this sick. It was never that bad afterward.
The fever, which had seemed to pass, returned again. Yet even in her daze, her thoughts continued.
Though it was never as severe again, she continued to suffer periodic fevers and chills.
Some doctors said it was poison. Others diagnosed a meridian disorder.
No one had a clear answer, but they all said the same thing—
“She won’t live long.” Those quacks.
Woon-yeong clenched her teeth.
I was the only one who survived. Alone.
Scattered thoughts slowly formed into clarity.
I can survive. We all can. I can save them. Save everyone. Save the Seol Clan.
In that moment, her mind sharpened.
Flash.
Woon-yeong opened her eyes.
“…I can save everyone.”
In the dark room, her quiet voice rang out.
“Yeong-ah, what did you say?”
Her father, Seol Ja-dan, sitting beside her, asked in his gentle voice.
Thank you… for waiting here in the Seol Clan, Father.
She couldn’t say it aloud—so she said it in her heart.
“N-nothing… it’s nothing.”
“I see. That’s good. I’m glad.”
He placed a cool towel on her forehead and gave her a faint smile.
“Yes… it really is good.”
It truly was.
Woon-yeong had been given the chance to save them all.
To complete the revenge she never finished.
It truly was… a blessing.
