CHAPTER~28
The next morning.
Woo-hee enjoyed a late breakfast, served with utmost politeness by Yoon Chang-ho, the now painfully courteous innkeeper.
Yet somehow, today’s breakfast tasted nowhere near as good as yesterday’s heavenly meal.
“Ugh. Damn it. What am I supposed to tell Baekho?”
As soon as she finished eating, she was planning to head next door to the physician’s quarters to retrieve Baekho, whose repairs—er, treatment—had just been completed.
“What do you mean, what are you supposed to tell him?” Yeongho replied lazily.
“I mean, come on. I promised him that if he became my subordinate, I’d wipe out the entire Moyong clan for him. But now that I think about it, that’s… kinda hard to pull off, isn’t it? If I tell him that, I’ll look like a total loser!”
“…You mean you’ll look like a loser, or you’ll just be one? Maybe you should just accept that fact?”
Woo-hee lifted her free hand—her chopstick hand remained still—and flicked a gust of finger wind toward Yeongho. Naturally, he dodged without even raising his head from his bowl.
The man could probably earn lifetime martial honors on sheer smugness alone.
Ignoring Woo-hee’s sharp breathing, Yeongho calmly scooped up another spoonful of rice. His composure only made her angrier, and this time, she started flinging actual objects.
Of course, none of them hit.
They ate the rest of their meal in icy silence.
Yeongho finished first, set his spoon neatly on the table, and then, with the tone of someone about to spout complete nonsense, said—
“For a junior who doesn’t want to look pathetic in front of her underling, this senior brother has prepared a gift so good it’ll make you sit up in bed with your eyes wide open.”
“…A gift? Out of nowhere?”
“That guy—he’s not from the demonic path.”
“…”
That guy.
There was only one person he could be referring to.
“You’ve gotta be joking.”
Woo-hee’s first reaction was pure denial.
“There are jokes, and then there are lines you don’t cross, even for a laugh!”
In the martial world, calling someone “demonic” was an insult, while denying that someone was demonic was a compliment.
But for the two actual “demons” sitting here, that rule didn’t exactly apply.
Yeongho stared at her with those sly, foxlike eyes, saying nothing.
And that silence told Woo-hee everything she needed to know.
This wasn’t a joke.
Her instincts screamed at her. In an instant, she gathered her inner energy and erected a qi barrier around them, preventing anyone from eavesdropping.
“If—if Baekho’s not from the demonic path, then what the hell is he? He was being hunted by the Moyong clan! The righteous destroy the evil, that’s how it works, right?”
It was such a naive question, as if she believed the righteous sects never turned on each other.
That’s why people said everyone needed to see more of the world.
If you just stayed cooped up in an ice cave reading third-rate wuxia novels from the Central Plains, your worldview would get as narrow as a sword’s edge.
Because, oh yes—righteous sects absolutely tore each other apart all the time. Sometimes roasted, sometimes boiled, sometimes minced and fried for good measure.
“When I checked the wounds on the bodies you left behind, I found sword marks—identical to the Moyong clan’s techniques. Meaning, the attackers and the Moyong clan share the same root.”
“What? Why would the Moyong clan go around killing each other like that? That makes no sense!”
“Sister, have you ever heard of something called ‘internal division’?”
“…”
Woo-hee hesitated.
The concept didn’t even exist in the Ice Palace. But she did vaguely remember hearing that such things happened often in the Central Plains.
“To give you an even better gift,” Yeongho went on smoothly, “those sword marks weren’t from just any ordinary fighter. Whoever left them had to be a direct disciple—someone of very high standing in the family.”
Whether those sword wounds were Baekho’s doing or his companion’s, it didn’t matter. If it was Baekho, then he wasn’t some wandering nobody.
He was a rising prodigy of the Moyong clan, a promising young heir who had likely been showered with resources and expectations.
“Frankly, this is good news for you.”
Yeongho’s voice turned crisp, his eyes glinting.
“Let the family clean up its own mess. Step back and keep your hands off. It’s the perfect excuse to avoid looking pathetic. Why get involved in someone else’s civil war? You’d have to be an idiot.”
Such kind, thoughtful advice—completely wasted on Woo-hee.
“So you’re saying… Baekho is… a Moyong clan member?”
“Yes.”
“One of those self-righteous bastards who act like saints, slandering us Ice Palace folks while pretending their own hands are clean?”
“Well, to be fair, the Moyong clan probably didn’t write those trashy propaganda books themselves.”
Maybe they just funded them from behind the scenes.
“I—I saved one of them?”
Her voice trembled, as if she were struggling to accept a horrific truth.
“A righteous sect bastard…?”
“Well, technically, you didn’t save him on purpose. You charged in blindly, couldn’t even see straight, and just happened to knock out a Moyong guy along the way.”
“That conniving pawn of the Martial Alliance scammed my summoning circle?!”
Apparently, it had never crossed Woo-hee’s mind that Baekho could be from the righteous side.
She’d gone out into the world to become a great villain—and ended up getting conned by a righteous fool on day one.
Yeongho looked positively delighted.
“Actually, it wasn’t a scam. You forced a spirit contract down the throat of an unconscious man. If anything, you’re the shameless one here…”
“AAAAARGH! WHAT IS THIS?! WHY?! You knew, didn’t you?! You knew and didn’t tell me?!”
Woo-hee hurled her spoon aside and exploded. Her face flushed crimson all the way to her neck.
Yeongho, naturally, didn’t so much as blink.
“Yes.”
His absurdly calm honesty only made her angrier.
“You—! You bastard—!”
“Magnificent. Truly magnificent. The granddaughter of the Grand Palace Mistress wasting her essence on a righteous brat. This will go down in Ice Palace history as a legendary tale.”
“Don’t! You! Dare! Tell anyone! If you breathe a word, I’ll bury you! No—I’ll put you in the grave myself!”
Yeongho didn’t even flinch at her ranting. He just looked at her with the indulgent patience of an amused adult watching a child throw a tantrum.
“Now, now, eat up. Once you’re done, we have to go pick up your precious Moyong boy from the physician’s.”
He fanned the flames of her fury with deliberate precision.
“AAAAAAARGH!”
The house of Woo-hee burned bright that day.
For the first time in her life, Woo-hee couldn’t finish her meal.
She’d always thought “losing one’s appetite” was just spoiled rich kids complaining—but apparently, it was a real thing.
She couldn’t swallow a single bite.
A truly horrifying experience.
“Hey.”
As soon as they stepped out of the inn, Woo-hee fixed her glare toward the physician’s building and said in a tone of grim resolve,
“From now on, you’re not my senior brother—you’re my lackey. Don’t call me junior sister anymore.”
“…Excuse me? If I can’t call you that, what am I supposed to call you?”
“Same thing you call Grandpa.”
“…You mean the Grand Palace Mistress? You’re skipping straight past ‘Palace Lord’? Isn’t that a bit of a… sudden promotion?”
“No, not that one. The other thing. The way you used to address him.”
“…”
Within the Ice Palace, Baek Dan-hyuk’s official title was indeed Grand Palace Mistress.
But Yeongho never called him that.
He called him Lord.
The moment that old habit crossed his mind, Yeongho nearly forgot himself—almost drew his sword on reflex.
“Come on, say it. You’d better get used to it before you slip up in front of someone else.”
“…Ha! So now I’ve been demoted from a respected senior to a servant addressing my lord’s inner energy as ‘my lord’? What a glorious fall.”
“Well, Grandpa’s inner energy and mine are basically the same thing. We’re one body, one fate. You can’t separate us.”
Typical Woo-hee—overflowing with audacity befitting someone who had absorbed the essence of the Grand Ice Pill, the Ten-Thousand-Year Frost Crystal, and the greatest demonic sword energy all at once.
“And why exactly am I doing this ridiculous thing?”
“Because Baekho doesn’t know where we’re from yet! He scammed me, so I’ll make him pay for it!”
“…He’s already pitiful enough, being a Moyong brat dumb enough to end up as a demonic lackey. What more could you possibly do to him?”
“I’m going to turn him into a true demon.”
“…A true demon?”
“I’ll stain him black—body, soul, and everything in between.”
“…”pt
