The RoFan Novel Fan Has Reincarnated Into A Martial Arts Novel-Chapter 52: The Blade Wind of the Grasslands

After an unexpectedly sentimental teatime, Yeon and her companions bid farewell to the two elders. When Yeon mentioned that she intended to search for the Northern Sea Ice Palace, Hwangbo Gweong simply added with a calm nod:

"No harm in giving it a try. Just... don’t go too far north."

"Why not?"

"What do you mean, why? It’s freezing up there. Dress warm, real warm."

Had he stayed with them longer, he probably would’ve insisted on buying her a coat himself. Watching him, Master Myoeun’s voice chimed in from the prayer beads, unable to resist a comment.

“Wow. I’m jealous. Someone actually worries about you like that. Is this what it means to be a hero?”

Ignoring the ghost’s teasing, Yeon went about arranging horses, a carriage, and a coachman. After hiring someone who seemed reliable, she stocked the carriage with clothes and provisions—mostly dried goods and nuts. Light in weight, but quite a lot in volume.

The coachman, a man with a simple, good-natured face, looked puzzled.

“Excuse me, but... just how far are you planning to go, loading all this?”

“Just as far as we can manage.”

“Really now? If you go too far, it might be difficult to make the return trip...”

He glanced sidelong at Yeon, clearly a bit uneasy. Perhaps it was the sheer amount of supplies that gave him pause.

“Don’t worry. Just take us as far as you’re comfortable. I’ll pay well for the distance.”

“Well, thank you kindly. I’ll do my best to get you as far as I can. What’s the destination?”

“I don’t have a fixed one.”

“Ah... right. You did say that.”

Even as {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} the coachman pressed for answers, Yeon could only keep things vague—mainly because she herself didn’t know the exact location of the Northern Sea Ice Palace. Even if she did, she wouldn’t be able to go all the way there with him.

“Well then, I’ll go finish getting ready.”

As the coachman stepped away, Yeon made the final preparations. Together with the group, she changed into warmer clothing. She swapped the typical airy robes of Zhongyuan for sleeves that hugged closer to the arms. For her pants, she chose ones better suited for riding.

The moment she put the prayer beads back on, Master Myoeun’s voice returned.

“It’s a good thing you’re leaving now.”

‘Why’s that?’

“It’s early autumn, isn’t it? When I went, it just had to be winter. Brutal. I used to hate the heat more than the cold—until then.”

‘So it’s that cold?’

“Oh, definitely. But going earlier wouldn’t help either. It’s not that summer’s all that hot up there—it just rains like hell.”

‘How do you know that? You said you only went once.’

There was a brief pause before Myoeun replied.

“People talk. I heard things.”

Yeon considered asking, Who did you hear it from?, but decided not to. Myoeun added in a quieter tone:

“You should try to make the trip quickly. Autumn on the plains doesn’t last long.”

****

Yeon and her companions traveled without incident.

She and Cheongang rode horseback, while Gongye and Soso rode in the carriage driven by the coachman—neither of them knew how to ride.

Yeon had never ridden a horse in her modern life, but thankfully, Hwangbo Yeon’s memories included riding lessons. With her natural athletic ability, she adapted quickly.

Following the Yellow River as it cut through Shanxi, they steadily headed north, leaving behind the region commonly referred to as Zhongyuan. Even the river, once an unending ribbon of muddy gold, eventually shifted direction.

After several more days, the familiar sight of tiled roofs and traditional buildings began to disappear. In their place stretched an endless, sweeping plain. If they kept going, they’d reach what Yeon recognized as the Mongolian steppes.

“Um...”

The coachman, who had been quietly driving the whole time, finally spoke up.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can go any farther. I’ve never been past this point.”

“Already?”

Yeon blinked. His early surrender was disappointing. She’d been told they’d eventually have to abandon the carriage anyway, but this felt too soon.

Seeing her stiff expression, the coachman bowed his head, looking genuinely apologetic.

“I’m terribly sorry. I thought this was just a casual sightseeing trip.”

To be fair, Yeon hadn’t told him their actual destination. She couldn’t really blame him. As she deliberated, Gongye poked his head out from the carriage.

“If the problem’s the carriage, would you like me to drive?”

“You, Master?”

“Yes. I’ve always wanted to try it. Haha!”

He stepped out, saying he’d give the driver’s seat a go. Seeing Yeon’s hesitation, the coachman quickly began instructing him.

“Now, see the left rein? You want to hold it between your thumb and index finger—press it down with your thumb like so. The right rein goes between your middle and ring fingers. And from there...”

The coachman demonstrated, smoothly moving his hands as if drawing lines in the air. Gongye’s eyes sparkled with curiosity and enthusiasm.

“Always be careful not to let the reins tangle. And don’t ever use the whip harshly. You’re not punishing the horse—just guiding it gently. Like brushing, not hitting. Got it?”

Even as he spoke, the coachman’s expression betrayed a bit of embarrassment. But Gongye was genuinely engaged, asking questions and eagerly trying things out.

‘Wow. If he studied scriptures like this, he’d be a scholar monk instead of a temple clown.’

As Yeon was thinking that, Myoeun’s voice echoed again.

“That guy’s always been full of curiosity.”

‘Yeah, once he gets interested in something, he has to try it.’

Meanwhile, Gongye took the reins for a test run. He made a wide circle with the carriage, and while it wasn’t elegant, it wasn’t half bad either.

‘See? It’s almost impressive how quickly he’s picked it up.’

“Oh yeah? What else is he supposedly good at?”

Amused by the ghost’s sarcasm, Yeon told him about a certain gambling incident in the marketplace.

“What? He was gambling? Playing dice? That’s still gambling!”

‘Yep. He made a fortune, too. Though... he lost it all in the end.’

“Hah.”

‘What, are you judging him for gambling?’

“Not really. Just... surprised.”

Just then, the coachman cleared his throat, glancing over at Gongye.

“Well, I’ll be. That monk learns fast. You wouldn’t think it was his first time.”

Relieved, Yeon handed him a pouch she’d prepared in advance.

“This is for your work so far.”

“Thank you kindly.”

Opening it slightly to peek inside, the coachman’s eyes went wide. His mouth opened and closed like a fish, as if something was wrong.

“What is it?”

“This is... too much.”

“I added extra. You’re going back alone, after all.”

“Still, this is too generous. Especially since I’m leaving you halfway.”

Despite Yeon’s insistence, the coachman refused the full payment. He took only a portion—less than their original agreement—and hurried off with the one horse he’d brought.

“Well, that was quick. Did he think we’d chase him down?”

Yeon tilted her head, watching the disappearing horse’s tail vanish into the distance.

‘Still, it’s odd he insisted on taking less. He didn’t strike me as the principled type.’

As she mulled it over, Myoeun muttered quietly:

“I wonder if it’s about time...”

‘Time for what?’

“Hm? Oh, just talking to myself.”

They continued their journey until the sky began to darken. Then Myoeun spoke again:

“You should stop here for today.”

‘Good idea.’

Yeon had been thinking the same. She brought the group to a halt and suggested setting up camp.

Cheongang dismounted first and tied up the horses, then began assembling their tent. Gongye, still smiling from his driving debut, stretched happily and went to help.

“I’ll take care of dinner, unni!”

Tang Soso rummaged through the bags for cooking tools. She seemed to feel guilty for sitting in the carriage all day.

She had tried learning to drive the carriage earlier, but unlike Gongye, she hadn’t picked it up quickly. Not that it was surprising.

“Let’s do it together, Soso.”

Yeon and Soso lit a fire and warmed up what food they still had left. As the temperature dropped sharply, everyone reached for their warmer clothes.

After a modest meal, the group gathered close inside the tent. It wasn’t just the cold—it was the wind. The same breeze that had brought a sense of freedom during their daytime ride across the plains had turned vicious at night, driving them all into the shelter of the tent.

So that’s why Master Myoeun kept insisting I buy a sturdy tent. It was the wind.

Yeon glanced around at her companions, grateful she’d taken his advice.

Everyone looked scruffy from the day’s travel. Even Soso, who’d spent most of the time inside the carriage, had a shiny, road-worn face like the rest.

Except Cheongang. Somehow, he alone still looked clean and composed. His hair was a bit tousled, but “grimy” didn’t apply to him at all.

How does that even work? Do good-looking people just have better skin or something?

As she silently admired Cheongang’s face, a low chuckle echoed in her mind.

“What are you staring at so hard?”

Yeon frowned.

“Seriously? You can tell?”

“Not clearly. But I see whatever you're looking at. The visuals are fuzzy, but I get the gist.”

“What about in the Hall of Repentance?”

“Back then? All I saw was bones. Pretty miserable when you think about it. I was almost stuck staring at a cave wall for eternity.”

Yeon considered yanking the prayer beads off—again. But the ghostly voice continued.

“Step outside the tent for a second.”

“Why?”

“I need to check something.”

Yeon stood up with a grumble, prompting Cheongang to look over.

“Young Lady Yeon, are you going somewhere?”

“Oh, just stepping outside for a moment.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“Me too, unni!”

Suddenly, Yeon had a whole entourage. She glanced toward Gongye.

“I shall remain here,” the monk declared.

Of course. Nothing if not decisive.

Leaving the now-reclining Gongye behind, they stepped outside—straight into a slicing gust of wind.

“Ahh!”

Soso yelped, clutching her coat tighter. Yeon wrapped an arm protectively around her shoulders.

“Soso, go back inside. It’s freezing.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be right there.”

“Okay...”

Soso, who’d probably only come out because the others had, turned and scurried back to the tent. Cheongang, however, had no intention of leaving.

“Is there something you need to check?”

“Not me—him.”

Yeon pointed to the prayer beads. Cheongang gave a silent nod of understanding.

“Okay, Master?”

“Take a look around. The sky too.”

Yeon hurriedly turned her gaze this way and that, eager to get back out of the cold. After a moment, Myoeun spoke again.

“As I thought. It’s around here.”

“What is?”

“Where I first met her.”

“Her?”

“The Ice Palace Lord.”

Yeon froze, the cold momentarily forgotten. She hadn’t expected him to bring that up first.

“...Oh. So the Ice Palace Lord was a woman.”

“Did I not mention that?”

“Nope.”

“Ah. Well, I’m not exactly all there myself. Truth is, I only woke up recently.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just what it sounds like. I thought I was dead. I was trapped in the prayer beads, slowly piecing things together—until I met you.”

“...I see.”

Yeon cast a glance at Cheongang. He stood still, unbothered by the cold, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

“Cheongang, do you see something? I don’t.”

“No, Young Lady Yeon. Shall we head back inside?”

“Not yet. Just a little longer.”

“As you wish.”

Yeon turned back to Myoeun.

“If this is where you first met her, why didn’t you go to Zhongyuan first? I heard you went to the Ice Palace, then came back later.”

She didn’t bring up the fact that somewhere on that journey, he fell into simma and committed murder.

“You're right. But she asked me to go to the Ice Palace first.”

“Why?”

“Who knows. Maybe she was scared. Even after coming all this way, she might’ve lost her nerve.”

His voice cut through the whistling wind, not quite loud, but sharp enough to echo in Yeon’s mind.

“Talking about it brings the memories back. I used to have an excellent memory, you know—but since waking up in these beads, everything’s been hazy.”

“If anything else comes to mind, feel free to share.”

Yeon’s tone was kind, but there was a glint of curiosity behind her words. Naturally, the perceptive monk picked up on it instantly. He let out a breezy laugh.

“I will—if our journey keeps going, that is.”

Yeon was just about to ask what he meant by that when Cheongang called to her.

“Young Lady Yeon.”

“Yes?”

“I believe you should get ready.”

“For what—?”

He didn’t answer, only looked ahead.

Yeon followed his gaze.

Out on the darkening plain, a distant line of figures cut through the wind like blades—racing straight toward them.