Chapter 156: A Silly Dream or a Prophetic One

TL: FoodieMonster007

Someone chased Jin Haryong.

She could not shake her pursuer, so she used her movement arts to climb a tree. She hid among the branches, holding her breath.

The pursuer ran past the tree and suddenly stopped.

Like a beast catching a scent, the pursuer slowly turned and looked up. The man's face was blank, like a monster's.

Agh! She tried to scream, but no sound escaped. She launched herself away and fled again.

Just as the distance closed, someone ran in from the front and kicked the pursuer mercilessly in the face.

With a THWACK, the faceless pursuer tumbled away and vanished.

Her rescuer had long, flowing hair and a full beard.

Where have I seen this man before?

The next moment, she cried out.

"You're that servant?"

Jin Haryong's eyes flew open as she realized it was the man from the inn. She had spoken her last words aloud as she woke from the dream.

She rarely dreamed, and this was the strangest one she had ever had. She was drenched in sweat, as if she had been chased all night.

A nightmare about being chased is one thing, but why did that man have to save me? Is it because he mistook me for his master that day? Did that leave an impression on me?

She recalled the bearded servant's face. Though she had only seen it once, she remembered it clearly. It was the same face from her dream. She usually struggled to remember faces, so it was a novel experience for his to come to mind so vividly.

Chu Ho, her bodyguard, called from outside. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I had a nightmare."

"You must be on edge because of the Young Dragon Tournament."

"I suppose so."

"Please don't worry too much. No one can defeat you, Young Lady."

"I'm going to rest more, so don't disturb me today."

"……"

A short while later, she slipped out of her residence without Chu Ho noticing. She entered the inn where she had eaten noodles.

The inn was packed with customers. The tournament had crowded every place in town.

Her eyes fell on a man drinking in a corner. It was the servant from her dream. She had come hoping he might be here, and he was.

She had not come for noodles. She wanted to see the servant. A desire had taken root in her to confirm if he was truly someone worth dreaming about.

She soon shook her head and laughed dryly.

How ridiculous. I came looking for a servant from some backwater sect just because he was in my dream?

As she turned to leave, someone called out from behind her.

"Are you here for noodles?"

She turned and saw the servant standing up, looking at her.

His words drew everyone's attention to her. A few people who recognized her looked startled. She thought it would be strange to just leave, so she calmly walked to the servant's table and sat opposite him.

She sat across from the servant and ordered noodles and alcohol.

"I didn't think you'd join me."

"Why not?"

"Because you found out last time that I'm a servant."

"That someone of my high status wouldn't deign to share a table with a servant? Is that what you mean?"

"Am I wrong?"

His blunt question made the corners of Jin Haryong's lips lift slightly.

"You're right."

The man's 'I-knew-it' expression annoyed her, so she added, "But the reason isn't because the other person is a servant. It's because they feel uncomfortable. They can't eat properly with me sitting in front of them."

"Ah, that's a relief then. I won't feel uncomfortable at all."

A servant this bold in front of the Murim Alliance Chairman's granddaughter?

He should know who I am by now.

She had never met anyone like him. He was truly clueless. Even heirs of prestigious orthodox sects were extremely cautious around her. They would not dream of asking such a sensitive question.

"You're always alone."

In truth, she did not get along well with people, regardless of their status. She preferred being alone and disliked conversations like this one. That was why coming here felt so strange.

Maybe my subconscious sensed something special about this man. Is that why I had the dream?

She glanced at the man. His hair was unkempt and his beard was messy. There was nothing special about him.

It was a silly dream, just a silly dream.

The man treated her comfortably, whether he knew what she was thinking or not.

"Ah, my young master also advanced to the main tournament."

She had heard the rumors. Her bodyguard, Chu Ho, had told her the news that he had caused an upset and advanced. They must be a sect from the countryside that knew nothing of the world and only trained in martial arts. That must be how he advanced. Just looking at this naive man, she could guess his sect's atmosphere.

"My young master might end up fighting you, Young Lady. Ah, did you know people have died in the main tournament before? Please take good care of our young master!"

"For a martial artist to die on the duel stage would be an honorable death."

"Isn't it an unjust death, not an honorable one?"

"What do you mean?"

"For a martial artist, is there any place safer than on the duel stage? There are set rules, a referee, and spectators, so you can't be ambushed, right? But to die on this duel stage? Isn't that a terribly unjust death?"

She felt it was sophistry, but she could not think of a rebuttal. She had never considered it that way before.

"You speak like a martial artist."

"I've learned swordsmanship, too."

"You must have a good master. Teaching swordsmanship to a servant."

"Yes, I learned from a truly terrifying person. He's probably the most frightening person in the world."

Jin Haryong scoffed inwardly.

How many people has he met to say something like that? Has he ever met a truly frightening person? Then again, in his countryside, his master might be the scariest person he knows.

Her gaze shifted to the sword at the servant's waist.

"Why is the scabbard wrapped in cloth?"

It was wrapped tightly in common cotton cloth. This was usually done for one of two reasons. Mercenaries did it to prevent scratches on the scabbard, or people did it to conceal a valuable sword.

"To look cool."

"Shouldn't you wrap it in fine silk then?"

"It's cool because it's not silk. The key is to look effortlessly stylish."

Seeing her dumbfounded expression, the man pushed even further.

"I heard West Lake here in Wuhan is beautiful. Would you show it to me sometime?"

He must be insane. I should be shouting, 'Who do you think you are, a mere servant, to say such a thing to me?'

Why am I just sitting here?

Is it because he was in my dream? No. It's probably because I don't want to be a rude bitch who treats lower-status people poorly. Grandfather detests it when his children or grandchildren get caught up in such gossip. Yes, that must be it.

"Then I'll be sure to show you another scenic view I know."

Does this man really believe that will happen? We shared a table twice, and now he acts like we're about to go on a trip together.

A sigh escaped her.

It's my fault for coming here.

"What's your name?"

She asked out of anger. Her question was laced with the feeling of, 'What's your name, you bastard?'

"Just call me 'Hey, servant'."

This guy, really, until the very end!

"Wouldn't that make me seem too rude?"

"It's Geom Yeon. The 'Yeon' for smoke, not for fate. I'll be here for a moment, then disappear like smoke."

The man grinned.

For a mere servant, Jin Haryong thought, he's really something else.

Just then, someone approached and called her name.

"Haryong."

It was Song Taegun, the son of the Green Dragon Commander. He was around her age and her only friend, someone she had grown up with. Jin Haryong was inwardly flustered the moment she saw him.

"You came for noodles."

Song Taegun knew she liked the noodles here.

"How did you know I was here?"

"I was passing by when I heard some customers talking about you. You must have snuck away from martial artist Chu again."

Song Taegun looked at the man with her and asked, "But who is this?"

Jin Haryong panicked, unsure how to introduce the man.

Just then, the man gave Song Taegun a clasped hands greeting.

"I am Geom Yeon of the Gansu Western Blade Sect. My Senior Brother has advanced to the main tournament this time."

"Ah! If you're from the Western Blade Sect, then your Senior Brother's name must be Seo Ryong, correct?"

"That is correct."

"I heard he's causing quite a stir in the tournament. It is an honor to meet a disciple from such a remarkable sect."

"My Senior Brother is the remarkable one. I am merely cheering for him from outside the duel stage."

"You seem far more remarkable than your Senior Brother, Young Master Geom."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You're sitting here with this friend of mine, are you not? Do you know how difficult that is? It's difficult even for me, her old friend."

At that, Jin Haryong said to him, "Stop talking nonsense and go. I'll see you later."

He looked like he wanted to stay, but Jin Haryong exuded a cold aura. Song Taegun just smiled and bid them farewell.

"Let's have a drink next time."

"Of course."

After Song Taegun left, Jin Haryong interrogated him coldly.

"Why did you lie and say you were a disciple? Why? Did you think I'd be embarrassed to be seen with a servant?"

Honestly, she had felt that way. She had panicked when Song Taegun asked who he was, hesitating to introduce him as a servant. He had hit the nail on the head, and she felt ashamed.

"Strictly speaking, it wasn't a lie. I may be a servant, but I also learned martial arts in a sect, so I'm a disciple too, am I not?"

"Once is enough for your sophistry."

Jin Haryong shot up from her seat and left.

That night, she had another nightmare.

This time, she dangled from a cliff. Again, the servant appeared, reached out his hand, and saved her.

Jin Haryong woke at dawn and looked at her hand. She vividly remembered the sensation of holding Geom Yeon's hand. It felt as real as a prophetic dream (Yejimong).

"You crazy bitch, what's wrong with you?"

She knew the answer.

What else could it be? I'm doing things I've never done in my entire life.

She pulled the covers over her head and lay down again, but sleep did not come easily.

Seo Daeryong's first opponent in the main tournament was the heir of the renowned Zhang Family Sword Sect from Fujian.

"Want to practice with me?"

"With you, Director?" Seo Daeryong asked, startled. It was the first time I had suggested they practice.

"It would be my honor."

"Follow me."

I took Seo Daeryong deep into the mountains to a place where I used to train.

"Even the way you find a place to practice is certainly different from me. How did you ever find a place like this?"

It was a wide, enclosed space with only one entrance. It was the perfect place to train, as you only had to watch one direction.

"From now on, come here to train."

"No. You should be the one training here, Director. The quality of our training is like the difference between heaven and earth."

"Is that really so?"

"Pardon?"

"I think your training is far more valuable since you're staking your life and future on this tournament. If you're heaven and I'm earth, I'll accept that."

"Thank you for saying so, but that doesn't change heaven and earth. Even if they were to be reversed, I don't think I'd feel very good about it."

Yes, this is the kind of person you make your right-hand man. It's not about who is stronger or weaker. It has to be someone you feel good talking to, someone who speaks their mind honestly. At least, your right-hand man should be.

"Have you seen the heir of the Zhang Family Sword Sect duel?"

"Yes. He fights really well, doesn't he?"

"Objectively speaking, you're outmatched."

"Hearing you say that, Director, I'm definitely going to lose."

I nodded honestly. He could not overcome the difference in their years of proper martial arts training. Moreover, he had not fully inherited the Blood Heaven Blade Demon's martial arts, nor could he freely reveal his demonic qi. It was going to be a tough fight.

"Now, I'm going to imitate the martial arts of the Zhang Family Sword Sect. Think of me as your duel opponent!"

"……"

I imitated the swordsmanship of the Zhang Family Sword Sect's heir and fought Seo Daeryong as his opponent.

Seo Daeryong lost again and again. I did not hold back. With each round, Seo Daeryong gained another bruise. His life was in danger at times, but he did not give up.

"Please, one more time."

Seo Daeryong tried every method he could imagine. He attempted every possible approach, trying one way and then another.

I silently repeated the duels, waiting for him to find the answer himself. I did not tell him how to win.

He had to find it on his own, even if it meant losing the duel. The mission was important, but this turning point in the life of 'martial artist Seo Daeryong' was more important.

We dueled all through the night. Seo Daeryong was exhausted, but his eyes held a look I had never seen before.

Eight hours before the main tournament duel, I forced Seo Daeryong to sleep. He had insisted on training until the very end.

Seo Daeryong claimed he was too on edge to sleep, but he started snoring the moment he lay down.

I woke Seo Daeryong one hour before the duel.

"Feel refreshed?"

"Yes. I feel alive, but what should I do?"

"……"

"I dreamed that I lost the duel."

I looked at Seo Daeryong's crestfallen face, smiled, and said, "Well, shall we go and see if that dream was a silly one or a prophetic one?"