TSBIRBV chapter 10

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Twenty years.

Yegyeol rolled the number on his tongue, unable to fully grasp its reality. It was like a bolt from the blue.

Could the original Celestial Master have been so furious that one of his disciples refused to return to the sect that he caused such a catastrophe?

Yegyeol had merely thought that if he ended up in a physician’s care every time he tried to climb the mountain, it would discourage the head brother from taking him.

“That… that can’t be.”

Strangely, the number matched the years he had lived since being reborn in Korea.

“I swear on the late master’s name, I’m not trying to scare you or deceive you.”

Beyond the surreal disbelief lay pure terror.

Je Haryang had seen Yegyeol throw himself in front of a demonic attack to save him.

He might not have confirmed Yegyeol’s death, but he knew the wound was fatal. How did he feel seeing his disciple return after twenty years, looking exactly the same as before?

A ghost? A monster?

In the world of martial arts, there were techniques that could make someone younger once they reached a certain level…

However, it was impossible to mimic the skill of reversing aging.

Even though he was an Esper who could control thunder and lightning, he was utterly powerless.

“How could it be twenty years when you still look so young, Senior Brother?”

I looked at him desperately, as if he could solve all my problems.

As Haryang carefully observed Yegyeol’s pale face, he smiled bitterly.

“That’s because I had a fortunate encounter long ago.”

“Ah…”

Yegyeol’s lips trembled. It didn’t seem like Haryang was joking. After all, his brother wasn’t the type to play tricks.

“I truly didn’t realize so much time had passed since the Blood Massacre of Kunlun. I don’t even know why or how I ended up here.”

His face, pale to the point of being almost blue, was pitiful.

Yegyeol, who often mixed lies into his explanations, was now speaking nothing but the truth.

He was afraid to meet his brother’s eyes. It seemed easier to stare into the flames of the underworld.

Even so, Yegyeol mustered all his courage and met Haryang’s gaze, pleading with him to understand his sincerity.

‘I don’t want to be treated like a madman again… not like in Korea.’

At least not by Haryang.

“If you return to a familiar place, you’ll feel more at ease. Kunlun Sect is a mysterious place with a long lineage, so they might be able to explain your condition.”

Haryang gently reassured Yegyeol. Yegyeol bit his lower lip.

“Can’t I stay by your side, Senior Brother?”

Even though it was impulsive, admitting it made him feel lighter.

“Twenty years have passed… I don’t know what happened during that time. Even if I go back to Kunlun, there won’t be anyone I know. I’d feel safer with you, Senior Brother.”

As he mumbled, he didn’t have the presence of mind to gauge Haryang’s reaction.

“I’ll earn my keep. Even if it’s just doing chores, please let me work. I’ll pay you back for the medicine…”

Yegyeol fidgeted with his fingers. He knew how pathetic his plea was. But pride didn’t matter; he just wanted to stay by Haryang’s side.

After all, one must survive before worrying about pride.

“…I’m sorry.”

Haryang’s voice was low and somber, but also firm.

“You have nothing to repay me for. There’s no need for you to stay here and work.”

Though it might have sounded like gentle dissuasion, it felt more like being cut off.

How was he supposed to maintain a relationship where he owed nothing?

‘For now, I should leave for Kunlun and keep my distance.’

Yegyeol bit his lip. The more he spoke, the more he sensed Haryang’s determination to send him back to Kunlun.

Forcing the issue would be like trying to swim against the mighty current of the Yangtze.

Yegyeol convinced himself of this.

“The world is in turmoil. Kunlun can be your sanctuary.”

Haryang’s comforting words fell over Yegyeol, who couldn’t say anything and hung his head.

If it hadn’t been Haryang sitting across from him, Yegyeol might have bitten his lip until it bled. Instead, he slowly nodded.

“You’re making this decision for my sake, aren’t you, Senior Brother?”

“I’m glad you understand.”

Haryang gently held Yegyeol’s hand.

The timing of the gesture was so perfect it seemed almost calculated, as if Haryang knew he was Yegyeol’s guide.

Just as Yegyeol’s spirits began to lift, Haryang delivered unexpected news.

“And don’t worry. Even when you return to Kunlun, you won’t be alone.”

Yegyeol blinked slowly at these words. Was he referring to the other survivors of the Blood Massacre?

“I’ve explained your situation to Master Baek Yangjin. He’ll be waiting for you.”

Master? Yegyeol struggled to remember who that was, then realized a moment later that Master Baek Yangjin had been his master in his previous life.

Forgetting about his master… If someone from the martial world could read his mind, they’d probably mock him for being a disgrace to his lineage.

“Won’t Master find it unsettling to see me? It’s been twenty years, yet I’m still a seventeen-year-old disciple.”

Yegyeol subtly tried to make himself seem younger, knowing it would evoke Haryang’s sympathy.

After all, he doubted Haryang would clearly remember how much he had grown over the last twenty years, even though he had once risked his life for him.

Back in Kunlun, Yegyeol had been nothing more than the youngest disciple, not someone who stood out.

“Don’t worry. Master will accept you without prejudice.”

There was something strangely definitive in Haryang’s words, as if there was no other possibility but for Baek Yangjin to welcome Yegyeol with open arms.

Yegyeol tried to recall Baek Yangjin.

He was the one who reluctantly took Yegyeol as a disciple when he was the last to join Kunlun.

Though Baek Yangjin was a warm and compassionate Taoist, he showed little interest in Yegyeol, who hadn’t demonstrated much talent, so naturally, Yegyeol was mostly neglected.

Therefore, Yegyeol had no reason to harbor any special expectations or feelings towards Baek Yangjin.

The only surprise was that Baek Yangjin was willing to take him back.

After all, it wasn’t like they had a deep bond as master and disciple.

“Master surviving the Blood Massacre is truly fortunate. But…”

Yegyeol rolled his eyes before whispering softly.

“I have no one else to rely on or trust but you, Senior Brother. Being separated from you is terrifying…”

Haryang whispered back, as if sharing a profound secret.

“I’m not as virtuous as you think, so don’t trust and rely on me too much.”

Yegyeol simply laughed. Telling him not to rely on someone who held his life in their hands? That was an innocent remark from someone who didn’t know any better.

Since leaving was inevitable, it was time to ask the most important question.

“Once I return to Kunlun, will I never see you again, Senior Brother?”

Yegyeol gripped his hands so tightly on his lap that his knuckles turned white.

He knew he should hold back, but he couldn’t help it.

“…Considering we’ve met again after so many years, there must be some fate between us. So, yes, we might meet again.”

A lie.

Yegyeol quickly recognized it. It wasn’t an Esper’s instinct, but rather his familiarity with Haryang from long ago. He could see the guilt in his brother’s face.

“Then, may I write to you, Senior Brother?”

Pretending to be meek, Yegyeol lowered his gaze. His silence was making Haryang uneasy, which was exactly what he wanted. If Haryang felt conflicted and guilty, he might think of Yegyeol more.

“As you know, the martial world is vast, and I frequently travel for trade. I might not receive your letters in time.”

In the end, it was a refusal. Yegyeol dramatically slumped his shoulders.

‘In that case, I might have to resort to getting expelled from the sect.’

On the surface, he appeared to be an innocent boy, but inside, his mind was filled with ways to get expelled from Kunlun. Every idea teetered on the brink of defying the strict codes of the martial world.

Perhaps sensing his disciple’s dark ambitions, Haryang added soothingly,

“But if you do send a letter, I’ll make sure to reply.”

‘If I’m thrown out with nowhere to go, will Brother really turn me away if I’m huddled under the eaves?’

“It might be delayed, but if you’re okay with that.”

Haryang looked slightly embarrassed as he avoided Yegyeol’s gaze. When Yegyeol didn’t respond, he called out to him.

“Yegyeol?”

Yegyeol, who had been lost in dark thoughts, suddenly realized what Haryang had just promised.

“Huh? Yes! Really? You’ll really write back?”

For a moment, tears welled up, not from acting but from genuine emotion.

Just as Haryang had said, the martial world was vast, and without a tracking device, how could he possibly follow him?

The thought of being refused letters had left him feeling utterly helpless, wondering if he would have to turn to a life of crime.

His guide was too kind, rescuing Yegyeol in many ways.

“Don’t cry.”

Yegyeol buried his face in Haryang’s embrace, deliberately making louder sounds as if to prove a point in response to Haryang’s gentle and slightly hesitant pat on his head.

For a moment, Haryang’s body stiffened slightly, but he soon wrapped his arms around Yegyeol and patted his back in return.

‘Do I look pitiful? I hope so.’

There was something Haryang didn’t know.

Yegyeol was discouraged, but he had not given up.

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