Try Living Well Without Me

Chapter 42



Slice! Slice!

The powerful sound of a true blade cutting through the wind.

Ordinarily, when swung, the tip of a true blade tends to bend quite easily.

Some swordsmen even utilize this flexibility, using their true blades like whips. In terms of suppleness, there’s no weapon that can match a true blade.

However, the tip of the sword slashing back and forth through the air before her now didn’t waver in the slightest.

Moreover, it was black.

A sword edge blacker than any ordinary iron sword, to the point that it hardly seemed believable it was made of iron.

This indicated that the sword was forged from black iron (墨鐵), which is dozens of times harder than regular iron but also unbearably heavy by comparison.

Slice! Slice!

Amazingly, the wielder of this cumbersome sword was executing each swing with perfect precision, without the slightest bit of error—and that wielder was, incredibly, a young girl.

A girl who had just turned her teens.

Her hair was as dark as her mother’s, and her eyes were as blue as her father’s. She was none other than Su-a Namgung, Namgung’s flower of thunder, Nae-Hwa.

The reason the sword was made of such an uncommon material like black iron was due to that fact.

After all, the Namgung style of blade was one of the heaviest swords known in the martial world.

Slice! Slice!

Since her companion, So-eun Yu, had left to tour other sects and martial houses, she was practicing alone in the private training ground.

Truthfully, calling it practice might be a bit of a stretch.

She was simply moving the sword back and forth with an utterly expressionless face, devoid of any emotion.

She would lift the sword above her head, then cut downward in a single, unadorned technique known as “vertical slash” from the Threefold Sword Method.

If she lacked determination, it didn’t seem to show, for the sword carried a force that could not be overlooked.

It was only the stolid and hollow expression on her face that made it appear otherwise.

Slice! Slice!

Thus, Su-a Namgung, swung and swung her sword alone.

It should have been a monotonous task, yet she continued even as the sun set and it was nearly time for Yu So-eun to return.

Slice!

Whoosh.

BOOM.

At some point, Namgung Su-a lost her grip on the sword.

Although the heavy iron blade collided with the ground with a thunderous sound, she didn’t even bother to look at it.

Instead, she slowly raised her hand and stared at her stinging palm.

“Hmm.”

Trickle.

Her grip was completely shredded, and red blood ran down her hand.

At a glance, one could tell the wound was serious.

“Blood.”

As she looked at her own hand indifferently, she slowly opened her mouth.

“Ah.”

Trickle.

Drip, drip. There was no one to hear, but her speech was halting.

“Heal…”

She looked somewhat precarious.

“…must.”

How amusing to directly witness the conversation between my son-in-law and his ex-wife. Very addictive. I want to see more.

As usual, Jin Woo-yong’s cunning voice pierced through my thoughts.

‘That wasn’t very fortunate for you, was it? Because you won’t get to see such a scene again.’

“Now, people’s lives must be observed over time, no? Didn’t I already tell you, life is unpredictable?”

‘Unless she’s someone related by blood like Su-a Namgung, Yu So-eun is now completely unrelated to me. What kind of conversation would we even have? We’re not on good terms anyway.’

Complicated. One might even say overly sensitive. It seems the unexpected visit from Yu So-eun has put me in a foul mood.

Damnit, why did she come without warning? All my unnecessary bravado meant I wasn’t wearing my mask when someone who knew me on sight walked in.

“Haha, it’s funny. You may think otherwise, but I know you enjoyed it.”

‘What are you talking about? Why would I be in a good mood?’

“Stop trying to fool the Lord within your heart. When you met your ex-wife, your heart distorted with rage, but it momentarily brightened when I informed you of the declining prestige of the Namgung family. Did you not notice?”

“…You’re talking nonsense.”

Yet, as I deny it with words, a part of me inwardly agrees.

Honestly, I was secretly delighted.

No, it went beyond mere delight—though it’s difficult to define it with a single word, if I had to choose the closest term, it would be ‘satisfying.’

It was a feeling akin to the catharsis I experienced during my regression era when I cruelly slaughtered Blood Cultists and used their organs to build mountains, purging the resentment I had accumulated.

“Ho ho, my dear, you have quite the eccentric tastes. Even though you possess a gift tailor-made for such inclinations—time reversal—you’ve managed to conceal it until now. I must commend you.”

“I beg you to stop forcing this agenda. I have no such wicked inclinations.”

“And yet you do, but refuse to acknowledge them. It’s due to your compulsive need for purity. Isn’t it fascinating? When I delve into your memories, such scenes appear quite frequently. The moments when you’re separating the bones from the flesh of Jiangshis—you’re smiling, though your eyes are dead, and your mind recognizes it as a ‘horrid moment.'”

Is this gentleman now fabricating lies?

If I did that, it’s nonsense. No matter how good the mood, I wouldn’t have revealed it so blatantly on my face.

“Phew, what is it about you that refuses to believe? Has living over ten thousand years ascetically made you so adept at deception?”

“Your words must make sense for me to even remotely sympathize. Regardless, the Namgung family is my main house. How could I possibly rejoice at its decline?”

“But it’s the main house that abandoned you. Stop denying it so strenuously. It’s natural for someone to harbor enmity for the force that discarded them. Even if that force is the family they were born and raised in.”

“That’s different from being pleased at their downfall.”

“Tsk, you’re too rigid. Listen carefully. There is no person in this world who is one-dimensional. Everyone contains both good and evil. It’s not strange, nor is it wrong. You must come to terms with this… although I suspect your cultivation potential has long since plateaued.”

A person is not one-dimensional.

That’s an obvious truth.

Isn’t it? Humans are inherently creatures of duality.

However, it was a necessary truth to deny during the regression era when I classified people as ‘good’ and ‘evil’ and killed them without guilt. If I were to accept that the Blood Cultists I killed could be good to someone or that those I protected could be evil to someone else, then every murder I committed would have accumulated into a mental torment.

If only I could believe in the Buddha’s paradise like a priest, but given my experience of meeting the Tathagata in the Western Land of India, it’s an irresponsible belief that I cannot easily embrace.

“Ho ho, and so everything you’ve thought is perfectly valid. How could you possibly have the time to be honest with yourself when you were supposed to be the absolute good? Your mind could only grasp at the rules set by the world to keep yourself grounded. You truly are a pitiable man.”

“Stop bringing up the regression already. It’s not a good memory for me. It’s all in the past now.”

“This is just what a son-in-law says because he hasn’t yet escaped the ‘time loop machine.’ It’s frustrating. Furthermore, the conversation with his previous wife was no doubt thrilling. Honestly, I, the Lord, would love to see it again.”

“You wouldn’t care about your descendant’s feelings, would you? How can you even want to watch as a son-in-law—though not really your son-in-law—has a conversation with his ex-wife? Have you not thought about the lady’s perspective?”

“Not my daughter. I just woke up to discover her as the head of a branch generations later.”

“…”

I should stop talking.

Every time I engage in dialogue with Jin Woo-yong, I feel myself getting entangled in his rhetorical traps. Despite knowing he always talks nonsense, for reasons I’m unaware of, it feels strangely resonant.

“Still, you managed not to lose it emotionally. That’s praiseworthy.”

“Lost what, exactly?”

“I’m referring to what I mentioned earlier. In case you lost control of your emotions while conversing with your ex-wife, perhaps snapping at her, I was secretly worried.”

“Did you even know how to worry?”

“If you had, we wouldn’t be able to see that thrilling conversation anymore, would we? Do you realize how entertaining it is? It’s several times more engaging than any low-grade martial arts erotica or cheap novels at the marketplace.”

“…”

His words don’t just make no sense but are also vulgar.

Truly, this old man only brings out sighs.

Perhaps the reason his brother sealed him in the Moonlight Division wasn’t solely because he wielded an axe.

Whoosh.

A young girl’s finger traced the jawline of the boy she sat upon.

As though she were well-versed in how to handle men, her touch was smooth—like honey dripping.

She had done this more than a few times.

“Senior Sister, why are you acting like this today?”

The boy, knowing this fact well, grinned lewdly.

At first glance, he appeared to be a pure young man with not a blemish on his face.

But his loathsome grin made for quite the incongruity.

That didn’t seem to bother the girl looking into his eyes.

“Oh, just… Oh right, did you see that? The lady of Namgung left it behind earlier.”

“Hm… That ginseng pill? Yeah, I saw it. But I noticed the woman more. Haha, she still looks as attractive as ever.”

“She was our senior, wasn’t she? What a dumb woman. She threw away her sect and position for a man and married into the Namgung family. Now that the Namgung clan has fallen, she’s traveling around other sects distributing tribute.”

“I used to spy on her a lot when she was at the main headquarters back in the day. She still looked the same even after all this time. Speaking of which, how about we try it once?”

The knees of the boy supporting the girl twitched.

The girl understanding his intentions grinned mischievously and grabbed his approaching wrist.

“Senior Brother, you still need to teach me the ‘Nine Swords of Dukou.’ You’ve only taught me half of it.”

The girl was none other than White Flower, one of the Seven Flowers of Mount Hua Sect.

Despite her nickname, she was using her body to seduce men in exchange for martial arts knowledge.

“Aww, let’s do it later. Let’s take care of business first.”

The boy was none other than one of the Nine Dragons, Sword Dragon, and the next head of Mount Hua Sect.

Despite the honorable reputation as the future hope of the righteous path, he often traded knowledge of Mount Hua’s martial arts for money and favors, though right now—

“Are you really going to be so stingy? Wasn’t it a deal that I could get close to you if you taught me the Nine Swords of Dukou?”

“Ah, it’s dangerous these days. The Sect Leader is being very strict. Last time, I almost got caught giving the Fourteen Branches Plume Sword Method to Taiwon Jin Clan for money. Do you know what happens if I get caught?”

“Hmph, then we can’t. Do you think I just throw myself at you? The ‘Mount Hua Most Beautiful Woman’ title only comes from the Dukou method, which can only be passed down by the Sect Leader. If you keep acting like this, I can’t willingly embrace you.”

“Eh, fine. Okay. We’ll do it once, and then I’ll teach you. That’s a deal, isn’t it?”

“…Are you serious? You must keep your promise?”

“Well, can’t you trust me? I’m Sword Dragon, the main disciple of Mount Hua.”

A short while later.

White Flower’s body collapsed onto Sword Dragon’s sturdy chest.

“Ugh… Oh… Just so you know… Don’t go using the Nine Swords of Dukou recklessly somewhere else. If you’re caught, I’m finished too!”

“Unh… Uh… Unh… I understand… I promise! I won’t use it in the open… Unh… Unh…”

The righteous path isn’t devoid of hypocrites.

But among hypocrites, those of the righteous path are plenty.

The Black Way is a gang of hoodlums—dirty hoodlums who scrape together money from the bottom of society.

The Corpse Way is trash—people living off the money earned from killing others.

The Demon Way is a demon—human in disguise eating other humans.

The Righteous Path is full of hypocrites—revolting and ugly hypocrites who live off pretense.

An ancient verse quietly circulated through the martial world from unknown authors through the ages.



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