Seolhwa tilted her head.

‘What is this?’

“Are you... angry?”

At Seolhwa’s question, Seop Mugwang’s stiffened ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) expression slackened into a loose grin.

“Why would I be? I’m fine. What did you even hear?”

“Then that’s... a relief....”

“More than that....”

Scratching the back of his neck, Seop Mugwang cast his gaze off into the distance for no real reason.

“Thank... you.”

“For what?”

Seolhwa asked back with a puzzled expression at Seop Mugwang’s suddenly quiet, hesitant voice.

Seop Mugwang faltered—‘Well, uh...’—then abruptly snapped his head away and barked out:

“...You even...! Called Chor Yeon... too....”

How shocked he had been when he heard why everyone had gathered.

If they ever returned to the past, the fact that he would return together with Chor Yeon had given him at least some peace of mind.

“She’s really grateful to you too, you know. She cried so much saying you didn’t forget her....”

Seop Mugwang chuckled and scratched his chin.

Seolhwa noticed his earlobes, plainly exposed, were a shade redder than usual.

“If we’d had to start over, I probably would have given up on her. Honestly, even now I think she’s too good for the likes of me.”

“You’re a good person too, Master.”

“I’m just an idiot.”

His chuckling expression was softer than ever.

That utterly unguarded, melting face made it obvious how happy he was, and Seolhwa found her own mood lifting with it.

Seop Mugwang rummaged in his robes and pulled something out.

Between his fingers rested a glossy, lustrous jade ring.

“Do you remember I said I had something to tell you if you came back before heading to the cult?”

Seolhwa blinked wide.

‘Come to think of it....’

She had completely forgotten. He had said something like that before she left the Martial Alliance, but everything had been so hectic.

“Anyway, go and come back safely. There’s something I need to tell you when you return, so just keep that in mind....”

“Something to tell me?”

“There is.”

“Don’t tell me that was....”

“I’m planning to propose. Today.”

“!!”

Seolhwa’s eyes flew open.

Her mouth curved into a radiant arc.

The sword in her hand clattered to the floor.

Because she had clamped her hands over her mouth.

Seop Mugwang chuckled as he spoke.

“I was actually going to do it the moment you came back, so this is pretty late.”

He had long known Chor Yeon’s heart lay with him.

At first it was sympathy, then reliance, and eventually that reliance had turned into affection.

He had known—and still looked away—only because he lacked confidence.

Compared to her, he was older, acted like some gruff uncle, and had no clue how to treat a woman with proper care.

No matter how he reflected, the capable, strong Chor Yeon always felt too much for him.

But now, he understood.

He was someone who could no longer live without her.

“I kept her waiting far too long.”

Seolhwa, still overwhelmed, stared at him with her mouth covered.

“The later it is, the better I need to treat her.”

His gaze lowered to the jade ring was warm and gentle.

A tenderness one would never normally see from him.

That sight struck Seolhwa as strange, and without realizing it, she stared at him in a daze.

“A-anyway! T-that’s how it is! I wanted to tell you first! Ahem! Besides, you’re my most favored disciple...!”

“Master....”

Favored? He only had one disciple....

Seolhwa hid a small smile.

“You made a good decision. The Lord of Medicine Hall will surely be happy. Congratulations.”

“Congratulations, my foot....”

Seop Mugwang cleared his throat gruffly and tucked the jade ring carefully back into his robes.

As he thumped his chest twice, Seolhwa asked:

“May I give you a hug?”

“?!”

Seop Mugwang stared at her sidelong.

“Why do you keep trying to hug me? As you can see, my body is—”

“Because I’m grateful. Very... grateful.”

“...For what?”

“For everything.”

At that moment, Seop Mugwang noticed the faint sadness on Seolhwa’s face.

Come to think of it, Yu Gang was still hovering near death, and the word was that his chances of recovery were slim.

Thinking of that made Seop Mugwang feel a little sorry; he scratched his cheek, then spread his arms wide.

“Fine, whatever. A disciple’s hug, one—hey...!”

Before he even finished, Seolhwa flung herself into his arms.

She held her one and only master tight.

What a master was. What teaching meant.

What chivalry was.

What warmth was.

Her master had taught her so many things.

“....”

Seop Mugwang, startled for a moment, soon lowered his chin onto her shoulder and gently patted her trembling back.

Though his disciple had long since grown, somehow it felt like comforting a thirteen-year-old child.

“You grew tall, but you’re still a little brat.”

Seop Mugwang chuckled.

The warm sincerity of his disciple’s heart didn’t feel as unfamiliar as he had expected.

“You’re doing well, my disciple. You’re doing well.”

Tap. Tap.

Knowing his clumsy comfort was sincere above all else, Seolhwa felt tears prick her eyes.

She’d said she wanted to hug him out of gratitude, yet somehow she was the one being comforted.

It felt selfish, but her master’s arms were broad and warm, and Seolhwa quietly accepted his comfort for a long time.

“But you know, since we’ve both regressed, technically speaking you and I have lived about the same—ow! Hey! Why are you pinching me! Ow! Ow! It hurts!!”

The sunset cast across the floor was deepening toward dusk.

“...!”

“!!”

It was a dazzling evening sky holding someone’s pain, sorrow, and warmth all at once.

****

“Strategist. I’m coming in for a moment.”

After a light knock to announce himself, Cheonghae opened the door and entered Strategist Zhuge’s room.

In his hand was a thick stack of papers, covered with carefully drawn structures of Mechanism-Array Designs.

Cheonghae double-checked the order of the organized documents as he walked deeper inside.

At that moment—

“Strategist...!!”

Cheonghae involuntarily whipped around.

His eyes widened as far as they could go.

‘...W-what...? A... a woman?!’

Standing before him was a woman wearing only a thin robe so translucent it revealed the outline of a bare body beneath.

She must have been in the middle of dressing; fortunately she had her back turned, but the sheer fact of her presence was enough to throw Cheonghae into panic.

“M-m-my apologies...! I did announce myself—no, truly, my apologies.”

Cheonghae squeezed his eyes shut.

Strategist Zhuge was the Martial Alliance’s strategist. Namgoong Cheonghae was the deputy strategist.

Naturally, they had many matters to discuss, and over time they had become accustomed to barging into each other’s rooms at the Martial Alliance without formality.

“I-I truly saw nothing. I only came to see the strategist....”

‘Wait.’

Come to think of it—was the strategist even inside?

What he had seen was a woman alone....

‘Oh no.’

A dizzy feeling washed over Cheonghae.

Anyone seeing this would think it suspicious.

With the strategist absent, he was alone in the strategist’s room with the strategist’s woman...!

“I-I’ll take my leave...!”

Flustered, Cheonghae spun around.

Perhaps he moved too hastily. Some of the papers slipped from his grasp.

‘No!’

Just as he barely managed to catch and cradle them—

“You said you came to see me, did you not?”

“!”

He heard a woman’s voice behind his neck—one he had never heard before.

Cheonghae froze stiff, as if time around him had stopped.

“Hmph.”

Step. Step.

The woman looked down at him briefly, then walked past his halted figure toward the papers fluttering at his feet.

She picked them up.

Cheonghae, gaze lowered toward the floor, naturally saw her hand as she lifted the sheets.

‘...Hm?’

His brow furrowed.

The woman’s hand looked familiar.

No—more than just her hand.

The insignia embroidered at the cuff of the robe she had now fully donned—he had seen it somewhere.

Noticing something strange, Cheonghae slowly raised his gaze to look up at her.

But her face was hidden behind the papers she was examining.

“Mechanism-Array Designs, I see.”

“...?”

And the tone behind the papers—wasn’t it far too familiar?

Cheonghae stared at the sheets with disbelieving eyes, then spoke in a trembling voice:

“S-Strategist... Zhuge...?”

“?”

The papers fluttered downward, revealing Strategist Zhuge’s usual face—looking down at him with that same faintly displeased, crooked gaze.

“...!”

Cheonghae’s eyes and mouth widened gradually as he beheld it.

“Wh-what—Aaaagh!”

He flung the papers he held and collapsed backward with a thud.

“Gu—gugu—gu...!”

“Pigeons? Do you intend to coo like one?”

At Strategist Zhuge’s unruffled remark, Cheonghae’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly.

At last, his trembling voice squeezed out:

“Y-you were... a woman...?”

“Is that a problem?”

Strategist Zhuge set the papers on the table and walked to one side of the room.

With practiced ease, she twisted her hair up and tied it, then pressed a head-scarf over it.

Cheonghae watched, mouth agape.

Finally, Strategist Zhuge straightened her wrinkled clothes and tapped a few of her Blood Channels to adjust her voice before turning to him.

In a calm tone, she asked:

“So then, what brings you here?”