“Cheon Hwi-da… had an affair.”

“……”

An absurd accusation. The sudden loss of color, the trembling body—it was a natural response. He tried to object—

“…If you call it an affair, then I suppose it could be seen that way.”

“Ahem. Not a completely wrong statement, but isn’t that a bit harsh on Hwi?”

Judging by the flushed faces and averted eyes of the other women, he could roughly guess what they had seen.

It must’ve been something that could clearly be considered infidelity—something that embarrassed all three of them.

In other words, memories of Seol Lihyang from before the regression.

So they must’ve glimpsed his memories with the Demonic Sound Ice Witch.

A time when all he did was train, study, and receive treatment from her.

That period was the only time in his life he had lived happily, without major worries.

Before that, he’d been desperate to survive. Afterward, he had lived half-mad with grief over Seol Lihyang and Seo Mun-Hwarin’s deaths.

After meeting Tang Sowol, he was constantly being hunted by the Heavenly Demon, and even now, he was anxious about needing to surpass him.

That short window was the only time he had genuinely enjoyed life for himself.

Of course, he hadn’t realized it at the time—an unfortunate truth in hindsight.

As he nodded silently, a bitter feeling in his chest, Tang Jincheon’s gaze suddenly sharpened.

“…Are you admitting to an affair right in front of me, son-in-law?”

“…It’s a misunderstanding. I just meant that it might look that way.”

“And don’t you think that’s the kind of thing that’s easy to misunderstand?”

Tang Jincheon, donning the persona of the overprotective father for the first time in a while, glared with intensity. Everyone flinched at his sharp tone.

“…Sigh. That was half a joke, Father-in-law.”

“…Hmm? Is that so?”

“Yes, and more importantly, what we saw were Cheon Hwi-da’s memories. They happened before he even met me.”

“I see…”

At that, Tang Jincheon finally eased up and nodded.

“If it happened before age fifteen… well, no one should be judged for childhood crushes.”

“Childhood crushes… that’s one way to put it. But what we saw wasn’t so innocent.”

“Then what exactly did you see?”

At Tang Jincheon’s question, Tang Sowol turned toward Cheon Hwi-da. Following her gaze, Seol Lihyang and Seo Mun-Hwarin also looked at him—seeking his permission to speak.

If their vision had been what he suspected—related to the Ice Witch’s final moments—it was understandable they would tread carefully.

After all, bringing up those memories would be like reopening an old wound.

But if this was a way to convey something despite the mental restriction, then he was grateful.

With a bitter smile, he gave a small nod.

Only then did Tang Sowol open her mouth.

“We saw someone Cheon Hwi-da failed to protect. Someone who died in his arms.”

“I see…”

Tang Jincheon’s shoulders slumped at the words. When he looked at Cheon Hwi-da with apologetic eyes, the latter shook his head.

“It’s alright now.”

“Then that eases my heart.”

Tang Jincheon smiled faintly and gave him a firm pat on the shoulder. Cheon Hwi-da accepted the gesture, understanding the comfort behind it.

Then, Seo Mun-Hwarin spoke up.

“But there was one odd thing. The Cheon Hwi we saw in the memory… he was very different from now. And no, I don’t mean he was younger.”

“What do you mean by that? I’m fairly sure my formation was flawless, though…”

The first to respond was Zhuge Bu, who looked like he had just heard something incomprehensible.

“If I may, Strategist—I don’t mean your formation was flawed. It’s just that Cheon Hwi’s Heartscape… the memories within it were unlike anything we imagined.”

“I see. But I still don’t quite understand.”

Zhuge Bu blinked, confused, and the others, though silent, clearly shared his curiosity.

Feeling the attention, Seo Mun-Hwarin cleared her throat and spoke with an uncharacteristically solemn tone.

“…What I mean is, we saw snow-covered, half-collapsed buildings. And Cheon Hwi… he looked at least five years older than he is now.”

“He looked older? Couldn’t it have been his father or brother?”

“No, it was him. His height, his cultivation level, and even his presence were different, yes—but it was unmistakably Cheon Hwi.”

She began listing specific traits—habits, body shape, thought processes—all identical to the current Cheon Hwi-da, and spoke with full confidence.

She even recognized the Ironblood Hall’s building layout and tied it back to the Black Lotus Sect, though no one really cared about that detail.

Her lengthy examples, so thorough they exhausted even Cheon Hwi-da himself, were convincing enough that no one could deny it.

Faces around the room grew increasingly conflicted—blending discomfort and sympathy.

Eventually, realizing how she looked, Seo Mun-Hwarin shook her head wildly.

“I-It wasn’t me! It was all Sowol who figured it out!”

“…Sure. Let’s go with that.”

“Sowol! If you say that, what do you make me out to be?! A-Anyway! The point is simple—we weren’t seeing the past. I think it might’ve been a memory from a previous life!”

“Reincarnation…?!”

“Then the reason Kṣitigarbha Bodhisattva placed the mental restriction…?!”

At the mention of reincarnation, Abbot Jeong Hyeon and Monk Gak-jeong both shot to their feet—then quickly nodded in realization.

Too bad—it’s close, but not quite.

Still, if they believed he had lived a previous life, then it was more than he could have hoped for.

Perhaps they believed they had finally found someone who had truly remembered a past life.

Now the two monks were looking at Cheon Hwi-da with almost reverent awe.

Fortunately, they had missed the mark just enough that the mental restriction didn’t activate.

“That’s not it.”

“We understand. You have to say that, given the circumstances.”

“No, really. It’s not that.”

“Hmm. Is that so?”

No matter how he tried to explain, it wasn’t landing.

He sighed inwardly—when suddenly, a voice rang out. Seol Lihyang, who had been silent since her first outburst, finally spoke.

“We don’t know anything for sure yet. Please don’t push Hwi too hard, Venerable Monks. It’s just a hypothesis, right, Sister Seo Mun?”

“…Eh? Ah, yes. Exactly. It’s just… there were so many unexplainable things, we ended up using the word past life out of sheer confusion.”

Finally, the two monks scratched their shiny heads awkwardly.

But Seol Lihyang wasn’t finished.

“What I think is far more important than the buildings or how different Cheon Hwi seemed…”

“…Yes?”

“I figured out what the flames in his Heartscape meant.”

After reaching Flowering Stage, he no longer leaked bloodlust uncontrollably—but before that, whenever he went all out, a terrifying aura of fire had erupted from him.

Everyone except Zhuge Bu remembered it, and they quickly quieted down to hear the rest.

“The entire world was burning—everything Cheon Hwi cherished. And just when he, half-mad, was about to head toward the heart of that inferno… the vision ended.”

“…You mean…”

“Yes. That’s enough for now. We just need to understand that Cheon Hwi has a painful past, and that whatever it is—it’s not a threat anymore, just an old scar. The real story… we’ll probably see it during the next great art.”

“…I see.”

The Murim Alliance Leader nodded, a faint smile on his lips.

“Understood. So, Cheon Hwi-da is from the Unorthodox Faction. He might even be older than he looks. No wonder his behavior was so eccentric, regardless of his intentions.”

He looked as if all the pieces had fallen into place. But that statement also planted the seeds for a new misunderstanding.

“…Wait, so Cheon Hwi is actually some old monster who lied about his age when he kidnapped me?”

Tang Sowol, casually bringing up the incident.

Not a monster… probably.

***

After leaving the Murim Alliance Leader’s private chamber, everyone returned to their own quarters.

But instead of going to their rooms, Tang Sowol, Seol Lihyang, and Seo Mun-Hwarin came to Cheon Hwi-da’s room, just like they always did.

Normally, Tang Jincheon would have glared at them in disapproval, but this time, he quietly stepped aside as if to give them space.

The room, which should have been bustling, was still.

No one moved. They all just looked at one another.

Usually, someone else would break the silence first, but this time, Cheon Hwi-da opened his mouth.

“…Is there anything you’d like to ask? I may not be able to answer everything, but I’ll tell you what I can.”

“In that case, I have one question.”

Tang Sowol nodded as if she had been waiting for him to speak. She hesitated a moment, then muttered,

“…Hmm. If I phrase it in a way you can answer… then yes, this is the question.”

“What is it?”

“Do you love us?”

He knew why she was asking.

They had seen memories of him with the Ice Witch—specifically, the exchange of yang and yin to replenish energy.

Having even that part of his private life exposed, and being asked to define his current feelings—it was embarrassing, but something he had to answer seriously.

“…Of course I do. If I didn’t, why would I go through so much trouble to stay with you?”

“Fufu, I see.”

Tang Sowol smiled, satisfied.

“Even if you really are an old monster in disguise, even if you only cared for us because we didn’t know… even if you’re not that much of a genius, and I wasn’t your first love… that one sentence is enough.”

Is it really?

Why did it feel like she was gently roasting him?

As he waited for more questions, Seol Lihyang and Seo Mun-Hwarin also spoke in turn.

“Same for me. What matters is now, right?”

“I’m a thoughtful woman who can forgive a man’s small past mistakes. Just be good to me going forward.”

Seol Lihyang looked oddly proud, while Seo Mun-Hwarin casually shrugged.

They hadn’t fully uncovered the truth about his regression, but at least they seemed to understand and accept him.

Looking at the three of them, Cheon Hwi-da finally realized—

“…I see.”

He’d realized it late again.

But he was already living a happy life.

There was no need to romanticize the past, or long for it more than necessary.

Worrying about things beyond his reach was too exhausting.

What mattered—what always mattered—was protecting those who remained in his arms.

He had to live in the present.

That was the only path left to him.

As that fleeting awareness washed over him, he closed his eyes.

Then—

“…Hey, um?”

“Hm?”

“…Is it really this big?”

Seol Lihyang, with one eye closed and a dead-serious expression, held her hand out in front of his lower abdomen, fingers spread.

There was no ambiguity about what she meant.

“…You’re insane.”

“So? Is it true or not?”

“…It’s probably a bit bigger now.”

After all, he had eaten and slept well this time around.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep