The memory of the first time I stained my hands with blood—
The moment I first killed a man—
is still vivid in my mind.

The feeling of my blade cutting through skin and flesh—that strange, sickening sensation—
Even now, my skill is mediocre, but back then, I was far weaker.
Breaking bone or severing it cleanly had been beyond my reach.

So of course, the man didn’t die in a single strike.
He screamed, clutching his wound, stumbling as he tried to flee.
And I, just as wretchedly, had chased after him—swinging again and again—
until both our bodies were drenched in blood,
and he finally breathed his last.

Thinking back on that,
this time’s strike—cleanly severing half his neck in one blow—
was shockingly precise.
I stared blankly at the dagger in my hand.

‘Sure, I used internal energy…
but I can’t use sword qi.
How could I have cut that cleanly?’

Normally, I’d expect resistance—
a jarring crack, a grating snap—
but the dagger sliced through as if cutting tofu,
with no pushback at all.
Even the bone was neatly severed.
It was… unnerving.

Had I underestimated myself?
Perhaps I had.

Though I never dared call myself a true martial artist—
barely a second-rate warrior, never bold enough to boast—
I’d still practiced swordsmanship for over ten years.
So perhaps this level of power wasn’t strange.

The Murim Alliance had so many masters
that even competent men like me looked insignificant by comparison.
Maybe I’d simply forgotten my own worth.

‘Still… why do I even have internal energy left?
And more than that…’

I focused, stirring the energy within my dantian.
The moment I did, it surged like a raging bull,
roaring through my body.
Startled, I forced it back into place.

Fast!
Far too fast!

Internal energy wasn’t something visible like blood or water,
but it always flowed through certain channels—
the meridians.

Only those trained by true masters understood them clearly.
People like me barely knew where half of them even were.

But if meridians were like roads,
then this was obvious—
the smoother the road, the faster things could travel.

Before, my energy paths were rough and crooked—
a mountain trail full of rocks and roots.
Now, they were like the gleaming, perfect streets
I once saw in the capital, Chang’an.

Even a fool like me could tell this was a good sign.

‘What in the world is going on?
At first, I thought some evil sorcerer had trapped me in a spell…
but this—this is real.

I’ve truly returned.
All the way back to my youth.
And I’ve somehow become… absurdly handsome on top of it!’

I tossed the dagger beside Wang Ak’s corpse,
turned away,
and began gathering firewood.

A blade would be useful, yes—
but too conspicuous.
With my current clothes, there was nowhere to hide it anyway.

By the time I returned to the stream with some branches and berries,
Wang Boheon had finished washing up.
He was half-dressed, his pants still wet,
and was enthusiastically chasing crayfish in the shallows.

“You’re back? Come here quick!
You won’t believe this one!
If we roast it, the two of us might actually burst!”

“Wouldn’t your mother scold us for that?”

“Eh, we’ll deal with it later.”

He grinned.
I smiled back—
and then froze.

Because I realized something strange.

The old Wang Boheon—
the one from before—
would’ve scowled and waved his hands whenever I smiled,
as if my face disgusted him.

But this one… didn’t.
Not at all.

…

“Senior, this is him, right?”

“Yeah. The clothes, the big sword—it’s definitely Wang Ak.”

“Who do you think killed him?
Not that I’m complaining. Makes our job easier.”

“Who knows. Blow the Black Crow Flute.
Looks like just the two of us are enough for this one.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

At the woman’s command,
the man pulled out a small, pitch-black flute from his robes.
It was so tiny one might not even call it a flute at all,
but since its name had flute in it, it must be one.

When he blew into it, no sound came out.
Yet despite the silence, the woman grimaced.

“Ugh… that sound always gives me a headache.”

“All signals sound unpleasant, don’t they?
Otherwise, people would ignore them.”

“Oh, so now you’re lecturing your senior?
You’ve grown up, huh?”

“Haha, how could I ever look down on
the Murim Alliance Intelligence Division’s own flower,
the Flying Enchantress, Ju Sohui?”

“I don’t know which bastard came up with that awful title,
but whatever.”

Ju Sohui shook her head and approached the corpse.
Wang Ak’s body lay sprawled in the dirt,
covered in blood and grime.

Expression calm, she used a long stick
to part the wound across his neck and inspect it.

“Deep cut.
Half the bone’s gone.
Judging by the marks, the blade used was this dagger here.”

“So the killer was skilled, huh?
You’d need at least a sword qi—”

“Idiot.
You see this wound and talk about sword qi?
You’ll need a few more years of rolling in the dirt before you stop spouting nonsense.”

Annoyed, she kicked the man’s backside.
He yelped and stumbled away.

Ju Sohui sighed deeply and resumed examining the scene.

The blood, the dirt, the struggle marks—
all of it pointed to one conclusion.
Wang Ak had been ambushed here,
struck fatally, and bled out slowly.

But how?
And by whom?
And why?

The why was easy enough.
Wang Ak had left a trail of crimes—
assault, murder, rape.
Even the Murim Alliance had taken notice.

Not because he was important—he wasn’t.
But because someone like that
was bound to be tied to something darker.

He’d harassed women,
killed innocents,
and walked the earth without fear of heaven or hell.
In truth, it was a miracle he’d lived this long.

“Look here—see the angle?”

“Huh?”

“The wound isn’t straight.
It’s diagonal—upward from below.
You’d need to swing like this to make a mark like that.”

“Ah!”

“If someone of my height had swung this dagger,
the cut would be different.
So the killer was shorter.
Likely… a child. A boy.”

“Does that matter, though?
It’s not like anyone will put a kid on trial for killing trash like this.”

True enough.

In the martial world,
a life often weighed nothing.
Especially a life like Wang Ak’s.
No one would seek justice for him.

“I’m just… curious.
A mysterious young expert,
here in this backwater village?”

“That’s fair.”

“Anyway, you head back first and write the report.”

“Me? Alone? You’re faster, senior.”

“So you want me to rush back and do your paperwork too?
You insane?”

Ju Sohui raised her foot again.
The man yelped and vanished into the distance,
his lightness skill carrying him swiftly away.

Left alone,
Ju Sohui stared down at the corpse once more.

If the killer truly was a young master-level boy…
then he might still be in a nearby village.

…

“Haa…”

That night, under a sky swallowed by darkness,
I lay inside a small storage shed, exhaling softly.

A sliver of moonlight filtered through a tiny window.

I had no room of my own.
But since this shed was rarely used,
it had naturally become my room.

A master who took in a homeless orphan as a servant
had no reason to offer a proper room,
and I didn’t mind.
Having a roof over my head was blessing enough.

Still, there was no avoiding it—

‘I’ll have to leave.’

Even after hours,
I still couldn’t make sense of any of this.

Why had I returned to my youth?
Why did my internal energy remain?
Why… had I become so unbelievably handsome?

I didn’t know.
But I did know one thing—
I couldn’t stay here forever,
living as a lowly servant.

If I left,
I could live far better elsewhere.
There was no reason to remain.

‘Once I get my hands on that…’

Even someone like me could change everything.
The road would be long and hard,
but if I prepared well,
I could do it.

Then—

“Shh.”

“..!?”

A voice I’d never heard whispered right by my ear.
I tried to leap up—
but I couldn’t move.

Someone’s arms—soft, warm—
were wrapped around me.
I was held tight, bound,
unable to break free.

And in that closeness,
a faint, floral fragrance drifted over me.
Powder? Perfume?

It reminded me of the courtesans’ streets—
but gentler, elegant, intoxicating in a way that didn’t hurt the head.

“Don’t make a sound.
Don’t move.
Just answer my questions, alright?”

“Wh… who are you?”

“I said—answer only when asked.”

Her voice was low, beautiful, almost musical—
and my heart pounded uncontrollably.

But her next words froze my blood.

“Wang Ak…
You’re the one who killed him, aren’t you?”