still remember when I close my eyes.
That dark night.
The image of my father, who wielded his sword again and again, with a face that looked pained.
He always wielded his sword both in rain and snow. Even when his hands burst and bled and even when his lips cracked.
Always. Always.
In her memory, her father was always wielding a sword.
Young Yu Yiseol didn’t know what was driving her father so much.
From as early as she can remember, he just continued to wield his sword. When she opened her eyes in the morning, it was the same. When the sun went down, and even when he was so exhausted that he would hold onto the hilt of his sword and sob.
Sometimes it was anguish, anger, and maybe the howl of a beast.
-I am back
He would say, grabbing young Yu Yiseol.
If at any time he could make a perfect plum blossom, he would have taken her to Mount Hua and asked for the forgiveness of his elders.
-I will make plum blossoms.
Yu Yiseol opened her eyes,
“Father wanted to come back to Mount Hua.”
“…”
“I think he thought he needed a justification for it. My father turned his back on them and left. Because such a person cannot go back empty-handed and ask for forgiveness.”
“… then the book…”
Yu Yiseol nodded her head.
“My father was planning on restoring it. If he restored it and brought it back to Mount Hua, he knew they would forgive him.”
At those words, Baek Cheon sighed.
Restore?
From that condition?
‘That is absurd…’
Restoring something was only possible when you could guess what the original looked like. Pursuing the original was right, but when more than half of it had been burnt, then restoring it was like finding grain in the desert.
“Umm.”
Chung Myung sighed and looked at Yu Yiseol,
“So?”
She looked down at the books.
Those dozens of books resulted from her father’s research on the technique. And all those were gathered in the last one, which had to be refined.
“He was getting weaker and weaker with each day. Clinging to impossible things which were eating him.”
“…”
Besides, it wasn’t just the body that weakened.
Before he died, her father was almost like a madman. He would swing the sword with his arms already as lean as branches and read the books like a corpse with dead eyes. He would write down new things countless times…
But…
Her father never reached Mount Hua.
The day it snowed showed him that.
Her father, who was swinging his sword even in a blizzard, coughed blood again and again. And he tore apart the books he had written,
-I cannot do it. I! I can never… reach it…
YOU ARE READING
ROMHS Chap 151 - 350
AcciónThe 13th disciple of the Mount Hua Sect, one of the greatest third generation swordsmen, the Plum Blossom Sword Saint: Chung Myung. After defeating the Heavenly Demon and ending his reign of chaos, Chung Myung breathed his last on the summit of the...
