For the most part, undertakers avoid the tasks assigned by the constabulary.
The reason being, the payment for handling a corpse designated by the constabulary is a mere five taels per body. No matter how meticulously they perform the rites, no one acknowledges their efforts, and it’s far better to spend that time on other work.
Thus, when tasks come from the constabulary, they skip the rites and simply cart the bodies to some random hill for burial.
However, Bu Zhanyang, the undertaker of Pyeongan Funeral Home in Hangzhou Prefecture, was different.
Even when dealing with the unclaimed dead, he performed the rites with utmost care, and if the cost of shrouds was insufficient, he paid for them out of his own pocket.
He didn’t bury the dead just anywhere but sought out sunny, favorable spots for their graves.
As a result, he always struggled to make ends meet, but Pyeongan Funeral Home was content. Because the beloved grandparent and his grandson always worked joyfully.
“Grandfather…” Bu Eunseol’s eyes reddened as he gazed up at the signboard reading Pyeongan Funeral Home.
As soon as he escaped the Sahyang Clan, he headed to Huangzhou Prefecture to find Pyeongan Funeral Home.
Before tracing the tracks of the Seven-Finger Demon Blade Bu Zhanyang, he intended to first investigate the traces of his grandfather, Bu Zhanyang.
“Our home… has become a ruin.”
Pyeongan Funeral Home was already located on the outskirts of a sparsely populated village.
When the grandparent and grandson who ran the funeral business suddenly disappeared, it had turned into a desolate ruin.
Creak.
Upon entering, he found all the furnishings gone, with filth smeared here and there.
Thieves had taken everything of value, and it seemed vagrants with nowhere to go had stayed there for a while.
Bu Eunseol looked at a half-broken wooden table in one corner of the room.
At night, a lamp would be lit on that table.
His grandfather, with dim eyes, would read a book or mend his beloved grandson’s tattered clothes.
Swish.
Bu Eunseol touched the dust-covered table.
As he felt the table, stained with Bu Zhanyang’s touch, it seemed to radiate a warm glow.
After inspecting the house for a while, Bu Eunseol quietly stepped outside.
‘I’ll start by comparing the tracks of the Seven-Finger Demon Blade and my grandfather.’
Staring at the distant sky, Bu Eunseol clenched his fists.
The grandfather he thought was an ordinary undertaker was a martial arts master who had mastered Shaolin’s supreme internal energy.
He couldn’t just storm Shaolin and demand to know who his grandfather was, so he planned to meticulously trace the pasts of both men.
‘Grandfather didn’t want me to become a martial artist.’
Bu Zhanyang had taught Bu Eunseol the life-nurturing secrets of the Muscle-changing Sutra and trained his mental fortitude to the extreme, citing “corpse play” as the reason.
He also taught him various martial arts knowledge and diverse information while dissecting corpses.
But that was never because he wanted Bu Eunseol to become a martial artist.
In fact, Bu Zhanyang never taught him a single martial technique and always emphasized that a martial artist’s life rarely ended well.
‘He just wanted me to live long in this harsh world, free from evil deeds.’
Bu Eunseol could feel it.
Teaching him the Muscle-changing Sutra was so he wouldn’t fall ill and could live a long life.
Training his mental fortitude was to endure the grueling life of an undertaker who had to face the bodies of those who died miserably.
Teaching him to analyze causes of death and master human anatomy was merely to impart knowledge to restore the deceased to their living appearance as much as possible.
‘But it turned out the opposite, Grandfather.’
Everything Bu Zhanyang taught was meant to ensure a healthy, long life and to make him the best undertaker in Huangzhou…
Yet, ironically, it laid the foundation for Bu Eunseol to become the greatest martial artist.
Step, step.
Leaving the ruined Pyeongan Funeral Home, Bu Eunseol climbed a small hill nearby.
That was where he had buried Bu Zhanyang.
Back then, Bu Eunseol was young and weak. So, among the places he could reach with a cart carrying an iron coffin,
He chose the sunniest spot, untouched by human feet, and built a grave.
“…!”
Upon reaching the grave, Bu Eunseol’s face turned pale.
He had piled stones into a cairn where he buried Bu Zhanyang.
But the cairn had collapsed, and the grave had been dug up.
Whoosh!
Using his internal energy, Bu Eunseol instantly overturned the earth where the burial had been.
But it was gone.
He had spent three days carefully digging deep, so no wild animal could have unearthed it. Even if an animal had disturbed the grave, it couldn’t have carried away the iron coffin.
Someone had taken the iron coffin and his grandfather’s remains entirely.
“Ugh…”
Waves of true qi swirled around Bu Eunseol’s body, and his eyes were bloodshot.
“What crime did my grandfather commit…?”
Rumble.
Even without a breeze, the trees in the forest trembled.
“To deny him even eternal rest—!”
His anguished cry echoed through the forest,
Boom! Crash!
At the same time, intense Blazing Fire True Qi spread in all directions.
Half the trees in the forest collapsed, and a blackened crater formed in the ground.
Hiss…
The rocks glowed red-hot from the intense heat, and the trees burned to charcoal.
As his mindset returned to its original state, his desperate rage was expressed not through the Wishful True Binding True Technique but through the extreme yang Blazing Fire True Qi.
“You’ve done something you absolutely shouldn’t have.” Bu Eunseol’s eyes, biting his lips, were stained with blood-red.
He had intended to complete his revenge by simply punishing the culprit who brutally murdered his grandfather.
But now his thoughts had changed.
“Not only the one who killed my grandfather but everyone related to them… I’ll send every single one to hell without exception.”
Roar.
Engulfed in the blazing Blazing Fire True Qi, Bu Eunseol looked like a demon buried in flames.
They had made a mistake.
Whatever else, they should not have disturbed Bu Zhanyang’s eternal rest.
Even if the seas dried up and the stones rotted…
As long as they lived, the flames ignited in Bu Eunseol’s heart would never be extinguished.
***
As dawn broke, Bu Eunseol sought out an inn.
Until he completed his revenge.
And until he found his grandfather’s remains, he would not return to this village. Thus, he intended to visit the inn he and his grandfather frequented to reminisce.
‘It’s changed a lot here too.’ As the village prospered, the inn had grown larger, and the young waiters had become middle-aged.
“Welcome!” A waiter with a large mole and a surly face bowed obsequiously upon seeing Bu Eunseol and guided him to a seat. “This way, please.”
Leading him to a window seat on the second floor with a good view, the waiter rubbed his hands inwardly.
‘Jackpot.’
Martial artists who lived by the sword always ate well and spared no expense. Moreover, they were generous, often tipping waiters who treated them kindly.
But the waiter’s expectations were shattered.
“Two bowls of noodles, please.” Despite his noble appearance, he ordered just two bowls of noodles without any flair?
‘What’s this?’ He had gone out of his way to guide him to a good seat, yet he didn’t even order a stir-fried vegetable dish? All looks and fine clothes, but practically a beggar?
“Understood.” The waiter replied curtly and turned away in irritation.
“Get out of here!”
At that moment, there was a commotion outside. Looking out the window, Bu Eunseol saw children who appeared to be vagrants begging near the inn.
The manager, seeing them, was driving the children away.
“Tch! Business is already bad, and now this bad luck!” Bu Eunseol wore a bitter expression.
That manager was the same one who had once chased Bu Zhanyang and Bu Eunseol away, saying they smelled.
‘Why don’t people change?’ Shaking his head, Bu Eunseol looked out the window and called out loudly.
“Hey, Manager.”
“Yes?”
“Send those children up here.”
“What?”
“And come with them.” The manager looked puzzled, wondering what this was about.
But as Bu Eunseol’s eyes radiated an imposing aura, he had no choice but to bring the children up.
“If it’s the banquet room, even if they smell a bit, it won’t disturb other guests.”
“What?”
“Send the children to the banquet room and bring out every dish you can serve.” As the manager blinked in surprise, Bu Eunseol placed a promissory note on the table.
“Keep bringing food until the children are satisfied.”
“Y-Yes, sir.” The manager, picking up the note, eagerly ushered the children into the banquet room with an excited expression.
“Your noodles are here.” Just then, the waiter placed two bowls of noodles on the table.
Bu Eunseol set one bowl in front of himself and the other across from him.
—You rascal, we’re at an inn for once, and you order noodles?
Through the steam rising from the bowl, he could almost see Bu Zhanyang’s kind smile.
As that warm gaze and voice came to mind… Bu Eunseol deeply missed his grandfather.
“Why not just give them money?” A clear voice reached Bu Eunseol’s ears. “Then those kids could eat their fill for months.”
Turning his head, he saw a beautiful woman in white, her glossy black hair tied up in a bun, staring at him intently.
It was Jongri Sayu, the granddaughter of the Needle King.
“It’s been a while.” She flashed a bright smile, revealing her white teeth.
After the Underground Chengdu incident, she had been tirelessly searching for Bu Eunseol, who had vanished abruptly. But the Thousand Swords Society was still refraining from martial world activities, and its base remained unknown.
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t track him down.
To think they’d meet by chance at an inn like this?
She was inwardly dancing with joy.
“Long time no see.” As Bu Eunseol acknowledged her, she smiled as brightly as a blooming flower.
“Have you been well?”
Bu Eunseol gave a faint nod with an impassive expression. “Thanks to you.”
His demeanor was so calm it seemed cold, but Jongri Sayu wasn’t particularly bothered. She had already experienced his aloof personality countless times.
“By the way,” she said, sitting boldly across from him, her eyes sparkling. “If you’re going to help, wouldn’t it be better to give money rather than buy expensive meals?”
Jongri Sayu was quick-witted.
Sensing that Bu Eunseol wasn’t keen on conversation, she steered the topic to something he couldn’t ignore.
“Rather than letting them gorge for a day, it’d be better for them to eat simple porridge and stay full year-round.”
“If you give big money to young vagrants, it’ll just get stolen.” Bu Eunseol spoke in a calm tone. “But you can’t help them forever either. In that case, letting them eat delicious food to their hearts’ content… is the greatest kindness you can show them.”
Having survived by begging since childhood, Bu Eunseol knew the life of vagrants better than anyone.
“I see.” Jongri Sayu nodded, gazing curiously at Bu Eunseol’s eyes, which seemed lost in memories.
In truth, whether feeding vagrants or giving them money wasn’t the point. What she wanted was to keep the conversation with Bu Eunseol flowing.
‘His tone and expression seem cold, but he’s actually warm-hearted.’
Her eyes sparkled even more.
Seeing him spend generously on vagrant children, She realized that, despite his cold exterior, Bu Eunseol had a warm heart.
And that made him even more appealing.
‘Come to think of it, he risked his life fighting the Bound Asura for me.’
Though the Bound Asura had blocked the exit, making the fight inevitable, She romanticized the memory, believing Bu Eunseol had stepped forward to save her.
“So, what brings you here?”
“The only reason to come to an inn is to eat.” Only then did Jongri Sayu notice the cold noodle dish in front of Bu Eunseol.
“Sorry, I interrupted your meal.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Bu Eunseol brought the cold noodles to his mouth.
He had never wasted food and didn’t care whether it was hot or cold. But Jongri Sayu, feeling guilty, called the waiter.
“Hey, bring two bowls of cinnamon noodles, stir-fried vegetables, a cold dish, shrimp tempura, and dishes made with beef and pine mushrooms, one each!” She winked at Bu Eunseol. “Let me treat you properly as an apology.”
“It’s fine.”
“Don’t refuse. Meeting like this is fate. And I’m pretty wealthy, you know?” Jongri Sayu said with a natural expression, sitting across from him. “I could support a man I like for life… Haha, anyway, my family is much richer than people think.”
That was probably true.
The Needle King’s family operated a secret task force to track down those who produced human flower. Seeing that her beauty wasn’t working, she subtly boasted about her background.
“By the way, are you still searching for that enemy of yours?” She asked, picking at the lavish spread of food. “I suppose the Thousand Swords Society is about to resume its activities in the martial world.”
By now, Jongri Sayu was chatting casually, even without Bu Eunseol responding.
Not only did she wander the martial world providing medical aid, but she was also a heroine among heroines, searching for those who created human flower. Having finally found Bu Eunseol, whom she’d been seeking, she wasn’t going to let this chance to build rapport slip away.
“…” But Bu Eunseol merely ate his noodles quietly, as if he heard nothing.
“Oh, speaking of which, there was a plague in Huangzhou Prefecture long ago, wasn’t there?” Suddenly, Bu Eunseol’s impassive eyes flashed. He had been performing funeral rites here with his grandfather for ten years.
When had there been a plague?
“When did a plague strike Huangzhou Prefecture?” As Bu Eunseol asked, she smiled coyly and shook her head.
“Not recently. About forty years ago, I think?”
“Forty years ago?”
“I didn’t experience it myself; I heard it from my grandfather.” Glancing around, Jongri Sayu leaned forward and whispered softly. “My grandfather came here to treat patients when the plague hit. And what did he say? He fought a terrifying swordsman with seven fingers…”
Thud.
Bu Eunseol stood up abruptly, unaware of his own reaction.
Forty years ago, not only did a plague strike Huangzhou Prefecture, but the Seven-Finger Demon Blade Bu Zhanyang was here?
