I had a dream.
No, I could not tell if it was a dream, a memory, or just a fleeting image.
I did not know if I was dead, dying, or still alive.
All I could see was the past.
Memories from my very early childhood.
My first steps into the Huashan sect.
The scenes of training with my brothers.
And my figure, unable to adapt to the rigid rules of the sect, wandering outside.
- You are a martial artist before you are a Daoist.
Do you not understand that power without the Dao is merely violence?
Such obvious nagging.
It was tiresome.
That is why, although I was a disciple of Huashan, I could not fully follow its teachings.
My innate talent was so exceptional that I earned the extravagant title of Plum Blossom Sword Sovereign, but I was a heretic of Huashan.
Why did I not realize? Even if the teachings did not align with my intentions, even if everything felt stale and dull...
I should have understood that everything about me came from Huashan.
That I revered Huashan so deeply.
It was a realization too late, a regret too late.
If I had valued the teachings a little more, if I had become a bit stronger, perhaps I could have changed this terrible ending.
If only...
- Do you regret it?
I quietly accepted the softly resonating voice.
It was the voice of my elder brother, the head disciple.
He was my father, my brother, my family, and my goal.
I wanted to follow him, but in the end, I could not and had to turn away.
Yes.
I regret it.
I regret it, elder brother.
- There is nothing to regret.
His voice was filled with gentle warmth.
- After all, it is Huashan.
...
Elder brother.
- One.
I could hear my elder brother's laughter.
It was endlessly warm and endlessly kind.
- But it is Huashan.
Thud!
But it is Huashan... Thud? Huh? Thud?
"Ahhhhh!"
A terrible pain surged through my head.
It hurt.
It hurt so much it brought tears to my eyes.
No, what kind of pain is this? It did not hurt this badly even when my arms were torn off.
"Chunma?"
Is this bastard still not dead?
Cheongmyeong instinctively raised both hands to cover his head.
If this bastard was still alive, I had to somehow cut off his breath again...
"Chunma?"
But what returned was not Chunma's deep voice, but a voice that anyone could tell was annoying and twisted.
"Huh?"
When I opened my eyes, a strange face appeared.
'A beggar?'
A beggar.
A beggar from the Open Realm, no less.
Judging by the knot at his waist, he was just a lowly beggar who had barely entered the Open Realm.
To put it nicely, he was a beginner, and to put it harshly, he was a lowly beggar among beggars.
The beggar, with a face full of mischief, glared at Cheongmyeong.
'What kind of beggar is this?'
I could not understand the situation.
Cheongmyeong tilted his head and stared at the beggar.
Seeing that reaction, the beggar's face began to turn sour.
He looked extremely mischievous.
"The Chunma is frozen to death! This bastard is sleeping like a log! You beggar! While everyone else went to beg, what are you doing sleeping like a dead tree? Did I not say I would give you a good beating if I saw you being lazy again? Did you find my words amusing?"
The beggar spun the club he held in his hand.
Wait a minute. 'So, is that thing threatening me right now?'
"Huh?"
A hollow laugh escaped my lips.
I did not understand the situation, but this did not require any interpretation to understand.
Who is Cheongmyeong? Among the countless swordsmen in the world, he is one of the top three.
People praised his sword as the essence of Huashan's martial arts and honored him with the lofty title of Plum Blossom Sword Sovereign.
Moreover, among the three great swordsmen of the world, the other two could not even be his match.
Did not even Chunma, at the last moment, acknowledge his sword as the best in the world? Even if the beggar from the Open Realm came, he would not be able to hold his head high in front of him.
But a threat? A threaad?
"Huh? Huh? Did you just laugh?"
The beggar looked at him with disbelief.
"Hey, you."
"You hey?"
"It seems you do not understand the situation, so put that down."
"Huh. Huhuhuhuh. Huhuhuhuhuhuh."
The beggar began to laugh as if he found it truly ridiculous.
Seeing that, Cheongmyeong frowned.
How dare a mere beginner show such a reaction in front of him?
At that moment, the beggar suddenly swung the club at Cheongmyeong's head.
'Huh.'
This is absurd.
How dare you act like this in front of me? It seems I need to teach this beggar a lesson today.
First, I must block that slow-moving club!
Cheongmyeong leisurely raised his right arm.
He intended to grab that club and demonstrate the gap in their skills...
...
Huh?
'Slow?'
Why is my arm so slow? The club is flying towards me, but my hand has not reached it yet.
No, I should have already grabbed that club the moment I thought about it! Ah, could it be that my injury has not healed yet? If so, I must do my best...
Huh? What is this?
Cheongmyeong's eyes widened.
In the center of his vision, he saw the club flying towards his head.
And at the edge of his sight, a small hand appeared.
A tiny hand moving towards the club at a snail's pace.
So small and... short?
Huh? This should not be short! If it is short, I cannot block it...
The beggar's swung club brushed past Cheongmyeong's arm and landed squarely on his head.
Boom!
A thunderous sound echoed in his head.
Thud.
Cheongmyeong's body, struck by the shock of the world collapsing, fell neatly backward.
Twitch.
Twitch.
Cheongmyeong's body, sprawled on the ground, began to convulse.
Thoughts of how the situation was unfolding and how to respond vanished from his mind.
All that remained was the excruciating pain that felt like the heavens were splitting apart.
"Ahhhhh!"
Cheongmyeong rolled around, clutching his head.
It did not hurt this much even when his arms were torn off!
"You bastard!"
The beggar who struck Cheongmyeong's head now spat into his hand and began to beat him seriously.
"Understanding the situation? Understanding the situation? Alright! I will make you understand the situation today! This bastard is going crazy! Have you lost your mind from the heat? The heat is a hawk's bane, you fool!"
The club danced wildly as it struck Cheongmyeong's body.
"Ah! Ah! Ah! Is this beggar crazy? Stop it right now... Ah!"
"Die! Die!"
"Ah, it hurts! Ah!"
As the blows rained down without mercy, Cheongmyeong's cries began to change little by little.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
"You beggar! I will not let this go! I will open my killing intent today..."
"Open it! Please open it, you fool!"
"Ah! Ah! Why can’t I block this! Ah!"
Thud! Thud! Thud!
"Enough... No, ah! Ah!"
The beatings continued without pause.
"... Save me..."
Thud! Thud! Thud!
"Save meeeeeee!"
Cheongmyeong, who was being beaten like a dog on a hot day, was being hinted that his new life ahead would not be smooth at all.
"... Ah. My pride is hurt."
Cheongmyeong pulled out the dirty cloth stuffed up his nose.
"Ah, ow."
A sharp pain throbbed in his nose.
The moment he saw the filthy cloth stained red, Cheongmyeong's face turned to utter despair.
Nosebleed!
Not even a nosebleed from internal injuries, but a nosebleed from being beaten!
Is this even reasonable?
It was not just a nosebleed.
There was not a single part of his body that was unscathed.
Not to mention the bruises on his eyelids, it felt like not a single bone was intact.
Had he ever been beaten to such a pulp in his life?
Even while causing all sorts of trouble in Huashan, he had never been beaten like this.
Who would have thought his first experience would come from a beggar on the street?
"Damn beggar..."
The beggar swinging the club had the air of a professional.
The way he struck every inch of Cheongmyeong's body was almost an art form.
If the target were not himself, he would have applauded...
"These beggars from the Open Realm. I will wipe them out."
Now, he was simply filled with rage.
Unable to contain the rising heat and irritation, Cheongmyeong lay down and thrashed about.
But thrashing about only hurt his body more.
"No, more importantly..."
Cheongmyeong quickly got up and approached the riverbank.
He leaned forward to peek into the water.
A young face he had never seen before reflected on the surface.
As Cheongmyeong twisted his face, the young boy also twisted his face, and when Cheongmyeong sighed, the young boy also sighed.
"... What is going on here?"
Why is the face of a young boy reflected in the water?
No, it is fine to have a face.
I can accept that my face has changed.
After all, the younger the face, the better, right? Although it is overly youthful to be called youthful, being young is better than being old.
Moreover, no matter how I think about it, this face is better looking than the previous Cheongmyeong's.
So I have no particular complaints.
What I do have complaints about is that my body has also become younger.
'Short.'
My arms and legs are shorter than they used to be.
It is not that I was born with a short physique, but that I am in the body of a child who has not yet fully grown.
Furthermore, this body seems to have not even had a proper meal while growing up, leaving only skinny bones.
Even now, I feel weak and hungry, struggling to lift a single hand.
Ah.
That is because I was beaten.
Anyway!
"So, to summarize..."
I am alive.
The word "I" may not be appropriate.
No matter how I look at it, this appearance is not that of Plum Blossom Sword Sovereign Cheongmyeong.
An old man nearing eighty has turned into the body of a child.
It is not that Plum Blossom Sword Sovereign Cheongmyeong is alive, but that he has entered the body of a beggar child.
And he has done so while retaining his memories.
Is this what they call reincarnation in Buddhism?
If I had known this would happen, I would have joined Shaolin instead of Huashan.
Pushing away the suddenly deepening faith, Cheongmyeong scratched his head with effort.
"Ow!"
Moving his hand vigorously caused his whole body to throb.
The more he thought about it, the angrier he became.
"Even if I scream that this is nonsense, nothing will change."
It is neither a dream nor an illusion.
I even suspected that Chunma was using an illusion, but if he could cast such a vivid illusion, he would have already dominated the world.
I do not know what happened, but I must acknowledge that all of this is reality.
Then, what Cheongmyeong must do from now on is crystal clear.
"... First, I need to figure out what the situation is."
Cheongmyeong sprang up from his spot and began to run back towards the beggar's den he had escaped from.
No, he intended to run.
"Ugh."
He could not take more than a few steps before he sat back down again.
"That beggar hit me hard."
Cheongmyeong's eyes began to blaze with anger.
"Whatever the situation is, I will definitely deal with the Open Realm."
Just because he died and came back to life does not mean his filthy personality has changed.
He soon stood up again and staggered towards the beggar's den.