Jeonbi.

A name he had never heard before.

“He said to inform you that the man with the surname Seo would be delayed in greeting you due to being caught up in some unfortunate matter.”

If it’s a man with the surname Seo, then there’s only one person it could be.

Seo Hyo.

No wonder. Even though Yangryeong had become an official province and Unhwi had assumed the post of Central Lord, Seo Hyo hadn’t shown his face once—something completely unlike his nature.

It could only mean that something unavoidable had occurred.

“Is that all?”

“For now, that’s all. But he also asked whether it would be permissible to go ahead with ‘that matter’ we discussed earlier—and he requested a firm answer. What should I tell him?”

“Tell him to proceed.”

Unhwi then explained to Han Seokhyeon exactly what “that matter” referred to, and upon hearing it in full, Han Seokhyeon’s eyes widened.

“…Five percent of the black market profits… and on top of that, experiments… isn’t this too risky?”

It was risky.

“Turn a blind eye to whatever experiments they carry out internally. If trouble arises, ignore it completely.”

“…Understood. I’m sure you have your reasons.”

He did. Though that wasn’t the only thing on his mind.

“I intend to construct an academy.”

“The site will be Mount Cheongun, I presume?”

When Unhwi nodded, Han Seokhyeon gave a slight smile.

“I’ll move as quickly as possible. Materials won’t be a problem… but will you be installing mechanical formations as well?”

Unhwi paused to consider.

The academy would become one of the most critical locations in Yangryeong Province.

Students from all newly integrated regions would gather there. Even if No Cheonmyeong, a master at the level of Union of Heaven and Man, resided there permanently—life was unpredictable.

Preventing disaster was just as important as dealing with it.

“There are quite a few experts in mechanical formation arts within the main palace. I’ll mobilize them. You’ll have full authority—just ensure it’s completed within fifteen days.”

Constructing a building in fifteen days. Not an easy task—but not impossible either.

Unhwi had money.

Not just a lot—an enormous amount.

And he had materials. As long as a plan was drafted, construction could begin immediately.

With hundreds or even thousands of laborers mobilized, fifteen days? Nothing was out of reach.

“I’ll draw up a detailed construction plan and report it to you.”

“Go on.”

Just as Han Seokhyeon was turning away—

“Heuheuheu…”

An all-too-familiar laugh rang out.

Unhwi turned his head.

An old man stood there with his hands clasped behind his back.

The young woman standing next to him didn’t even register in Unhwi’s eyes.

Clad in white robes, with long white hair braided down his back… a man nearly six cheok tall.

Even well past a hundred years of age, his eyes were filled with clarity, and the relaxed smile he always wore had never left him.

The Supreme of the Martial World.

The Blood-Heaven Exalted One, the Celestial Daoist.

He spoke.

“I’ve heard the young lord plays Go quite well. Might I see a game for myself?”

***

An unnameable emotion suddenly passed through his mind.

Like a single page from a long-forgotten memory, it welled up in his chest.

The Celestial Daoist.

The memory of that day was clear.

When the one called Supreme of the Martial World had first appeared before him, it was as if all the sounds of the world had ceased.

“As the concubine’s son of the Snow Palace, surely you had many places to go—yet you came here, of all places.”

With just his gaze, he conveyed the weight of a thousand years. The memory of that childlike smile was still vivid.

“Stay as long as you wish. Leave when you’re ready.”

It had felt like finally finding home after wandering lost for ages.

That face from back then.

That presence.

While so many things in the world had changed—again and again—this man alone remained unchanged.

A smile crept across Unhwi’s lips.

“Recently, I put up a sign that I won’t be playing any more games of Go for a while due to pressing matters…”

“And yet?”

“A distinguished guest has come from afar. I suppose an exception must be made.”

Heuheuheu.

That familiar laugh again.

“What shall I call you?”

“Hmm… There are many titles I’ve been called in this world, but today, I’d like to be Old Man Cheon.”

“Very well. Then I shall address you as Old Man Cheon.”

“Then I’ll call you Young Lord Seol.”

“Call me however you please, Old Man Cheon.”

Turning to the still-bewildered Han Seokhyeon, Unhwi said,

“You may go.”

“…Yes… understood.”

Still tilting his head at the Celestial Daoist, Han Seokhyeon finally took his leave.

“I’ll escort you to the main hall.”

“Heuheu… I’m fine playing right here.”

This was just the front courtyard of the residence. Not even a proper garden—just a few stone steps and a dusty path leading to the doorway.

And there, the Celestial Daoist plopped down with a smile.

Even as the dust clung to his white robes, he paid it no mind.

This was who he was—the Celestial Daoist as Unhwi knew him.

Unhwi sat quietly before him.

“I brought my own board. But since I came unannounced, I leave the decision to you.”

“I have no objection to using the board you brought.”

“Heuheuheu… Good.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than the woman with black-and-white hair at his side pulled a large board from a shoulder pack and placed it between them.

Unhwi glanced at her for a moment.

It had been a while.

Currently, the Lord of Viper Valley was a man named Seon Yangbaek. If events unfolded without major disruptions, he would announce his retirement in about fourteen years.

And the one who would succeed him—

Was this woman.

The Venom-Queen Witch, Yang Uiji.

At present, she was one of the Celestial Daoist’s personal guardians.

As she looked at Unhwi, she winked.

He ignored it.

Heuheu… I’m looking forward to this.

As the Celestial Daoist reached for the white stones, Unhwi moved faster.

“You are the guest. Naturally, you should take black.”

“…Ho?”

“I’ll take white, Old Man Cheon.”

Yang Uiji’s eyes sparkled. The Celestial Daoist’s eyes gleamed as well.

“…Fascinating. Truly fascinating.”

“You mean me?”

“You know full well who I am. You know why I’ve come. Yet you insist on choosing the weaker side?”

“Is that not allowed?”

“……”

“And besides. Even if black holds the advantage, it doesn’t determine the outcome of the game.”

“…Hmm?”

“You’ve taken black countless times already, haven’t you, Old Man Cheon?”

“……”

“Take the black stones. I believe that’s what’s right—at least for now.”

Heu… heuheheu… How delightful. Truly delightful.

So saying, the Celestial Daoist placed his first stone.

Top right corner of the board.

Unhwi gazed at the board and spoke.

“May I ask a question?”

“Go ahead.”

Placing the first white stone in the bottom left corner, Unhwi asked:

“Why would someone who flies above the heavens concern himself with things happening on the ground?”

The Celestial Daoist paused for a moment, then placed his second stone.

“If a crane soaring through the skies doesn’t look down on the fish below… how could it claim to understand the way of the world?”

“Are you merely watching the fish? Or are you angling to catch one?”

A smile played at the Celestial Daoist’s lips.

“Sometimes… it’s fun just to toss a stone into the pond and watch the ripples spread.”

“A stone thrown in jest has stirred the waters… and its ripple has shaken the lotus blossoms.”

“Hm… What do you mean by that?”

“That stone tossed for fun has now entangled three factions. You hypnotized two warriors from the Sichuan Alliance, which led to all this: the Sichuan Alliance, the Martial Alliance, and the Everlasting Snow Palace have now been pulled into one board.”

The Celestial Daoist burst into cheerful laughter.

“Heuheuheu! It couldn’t be helped. The move I’d intended to play originally was distorted. As you say, I had hoped to weave a grand game by linking three sects—but before the main palace of Snow Palace even made a move, you resolved everything yourself. It was both disappointing… and remarkable.”

He looked up at Unhwi, his eyes holding the depth of one who grasped the essence of the world.

“The martial world is a place for those who walk the path of the martial. But every now and then, there are those who act beyond all expectation. Watching the path such people take… is a joy in itself. Just like you.”

Looking at the delighted Celestial Daoist, Unhwi spoke calmly.

“You speak of the path of the martial. Then let me ask.”

“Go on.”

“Do you truly watch from above? Or do you merely pretend to?”

“…Hm?”

The Celestial Daoist’s expression hardened.

“A strange question.”

“There were spies within Snow Palace.”

“…Hmm…”

“Not one or two. Of course, a group as large as Snow Palace is bound to have infiltrators. But these ones were searching for something.”

“……”

“And then—”

Unhwi drew the Tae-Yeong Record from his robes and offered it.

The Celestial Daoist’s brow furrowed.

“…What is this?”

“I’d like to ask you the same.”

“……”

“Judging by your reaction, I think I already know the answer.”

“What are you implying?”

About twenty moves had passed on the board. The interplay of black and white was forming a delicate shape.

“You were the one who hypnotized the two Sichuan Alliance warriors. That was your first move. But the rest—were not.”

“And how can you be so sure? Perhaps I’m just acting.”

“No. This pattern… is not the work of one person.”

“And why not?”

“The personalities are too ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ different.”

“Personalities…”

“More than that, the tone of the moves is entirely opposite.”

“……”

“No matter how enlightened one may be in the way of heaven and earth, a person’s temperament cannot be changed. You can try to hide it—but not when playing Go.”

“Not when playing…?”

“You can’t hide it. At the moment you place a stone, you are yourself.”

“…Ohh…”

The Celestial Daoist’s gaze deepened. Unhwi continued calmly.

“The early moves were playful. Just like the ones on this board now.”

“And the others?”

“Sinister.”

“Sinister, you say… hoho… You really think so?”

“Yes. Not just sinister—thoroughly deliberate in their attempt to erase all traces and conceal the player’s identity.”

And now, Unhwi decided to voice the suspicion that had long taken root in his chest. It was for that reason he had brought the Tae-Yeong Record.

“Old Man Cheon.”

“Speak.”

“Do you intend to punish me?”

The Celestial Daoist merely smiled in silence.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep