Survival Guide for the Reincarnated

The two men stared at each other in silence. A subtle tension hung in the air between them.

It wasn’t hostility—it was a tension born from the sense that each was trying to measure the other’s depth.

Wang Muha was the first to speak.

“I’ve heard you dealt with Sugwangho of the Upper Wisdom Pavilion personally.”

“Yes. I handled it myself.”

“You understand what kind of ripple effect that may cause, I assume?”

A smile played on Unwi’s lips.

“A ripple, you say... From the Martial Alliance’s perspective, perhaps it’s a massive disturbance. But from mine, it’s nothing more than a single move.”

Wang Muha’s brow twitched.

“A single move... An amusing way to put it. This letter as well—you seem to enjoy Go.”

“I enjoy it, nothing more.”

“‘Nothing more,’ you say...”

Wang Muha looked around them.

“The Martial Alliance has granted me full authority. How this situation is handled rests entirely on my judgment.”

“I see. I, too, have been granted full authority by the Everlasting Snow Palace.”

Unwi’s voice remained calm.

“The only difference is that the authority I received was mine to begin with.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“No matter what the Martial Alliance may /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ be scheming, it’s something I can handle alone. That’s how trivial their tactics are.”

Only now did Wang Muha begin to feel a genuine sense of interest.

When he’d heard that a cultivator in the Three Flowers Gathering Purity realm had slain a Harmonization-stage expert, he’d been skeptical. But now, looking at the young man in front of him, he could instinctively sense that it had been no accident.

There are things only someone who has reached the realm of Union of Heaven and Man can recognize. And the aura emanating from this young man was undoubtedly exceptional.

He needed to get a glimpse of this one’s inner world.

It was at that moment—

Wang Muha frowned at Unwi’s next words.

“Not long ago, I played a game with the one they call the Southern Mad Dog.”

“...The Southern Mad Dog... You mean that lunatic?”

“That’s right. Sim Munryong, I believe.”

“You actually beat him?”

“Yes. I won by fifteen and a half points.”

“...There was a time I went south with the intention of facing him.”

Wang Muha’s voice carried the weight of old memories.

“And? Did you play him?”

The old man shook his head.

“He demanded a gold coin just to play a game. Spewing nonsense provocations that only some street thug might fall for... I saw through his act and turned my back.”

“I see.”

Unwi spoke with deep understanding. While Sim Munryong had recently shown a dependable side, he was, at his core, the same man even the Commander of the White Falcon Guard once called a mad dog.

Even so, no one questioned his skill in Go.

He had truly earned the title of the Southern Mad Dog for a reason.

“Really... You’re making it difficult to just let this go. You seem to know a lot about me.”

“I’ve only heard the rumors, nothing more.”

“Rumors, huh... Fine. Just as you suggested, let’s have a match.”

As if waiting for that moment, Chief Steward Seong, who had been standing quietly in a corner of the hall, stepped forward and placed a Go board between the two men.

Wang Muha glanced at him and spoke in an offhand tone.

“Your movements are sharp. You must be Seong Yangho of the White Snow Soul Guard?”

“That’s correct.”

“I hear you’ve reached the Spirit Ascension Stage... Do you not regret it?”

Chief Steward Seong chuckled softly.

“Do I look like I regret it?”

“Not in the least. That’s why I asked... You have a sharp edge to you.”

“How could I not? I’ve never been particularly fond of the Martial Alliance.”

Someone stepped in to restrain him.

It was Unwi.

“Chief Steward Seong.”

“...Yes, Young Master.”

“He is a guest. What sort of behavior is that toward a guest?”

“...My apologies.”

He then offered Wang Muha a respectful clasp of his fists, but the elder waved it off with a gesture of casual dismissal.

With Seong stepping back to stand guard, the two men naturally took their seats.

Wang Muha looked at the Go board and asked, “Will you take the first move?”

Unwi shook his head.

“You came here as a guest, so I’ll yield the opening move to you.”

“Very well. But before we begin, there’s something we must decide on first.”

“What would that be?”

“You said with your own mouth that you have full authority. I want this game to bring a clean end to the matter.”

“Sounds like you have conditions in mind.”

“I do.”

“Please, go ahead. I’m listening.”

At that, Wang Muha laid out his demands.

“There are three. First, withdraw from Yangnyeong. Second, Everlasting Snow Palace must never again lay claim to any territory—whether on the outskirts of the Central Plains or elsewhere. Third, your Palace Lord must visit the Martial Alliance in person and apologize for this incident.”

Unwi’s hand paused.

“You said you have full authority, did you not?”

Both Unwi and Wang Muha knew the truth.

What does the Martial Alliance truly want?

To prevent the Everlasting Snow Palace from entering the Central Plains.

Everything that had happened in Oksu Village was nothing more than a pretext. It gave the Martial Alliance a reason to raise their voice and respond forcefully to the Snow Palace—even stir direct conflict if needed.

With hundreds of sects under its banner, the Martial Alliance needed this kind of formal justification.

Unwi asked,

“Will those three suffice?”

Wang Muha nodded.

“Very well. If I lose, I will see all three fulfilled. Yangnyeong will be returned to the Yang Empire. The Everlasting Snow Palace will not claim territory within or beyond the Central Plains, and our Palace Lord will personally visit the Martial Alliance to apologize.”

“Can I trust you?”

“It is said that a man’s word is worth its weight in gold. I am more than capable of keeping mine.”

“Good. Now that I’ve seen you with my own eyes, I can tell—yours is not a shallow heart. If you break your word, I trust you know what consequences may follow.”

“I do.”

“Then it’s your turn. What are your demands?”

To that, surprisingly, Unwi shook his head.

“I have none.”

“...None?”

“That’s right. If there’s anything you wish to offer me, you may do so after the match, at your own discretion.”

“...Truly a strange one. Everyone knows the one who plays first has the advantage, yet you give up the opening move and make no demands... and say you’ll leave it up to me? I’ve never met anyone like you.”

Slowly, Wang Muha picked up a black stone.

“I’ll see for myself—whether what you show me is born of confidence or arrogance.”

The moment the stone touched the board, the tension in the hall deepened.

This was no ordinary game of Go. It was the collision of two inner realms.

Quietly watching Wang Muha, Unwi picked up a white stone and placed it on the board.

Tap.

At that sound, a smile spread across Wang Muha’s face.

The opening move was light. What could be hidden behind such a light stroke?

What sort of move would follow it?

Thus, their game began.

With every exchange of stones, Wang Muha’s expression grew more focused. Unwi’s moves had seemed unremarkable at first, but as the game progressed, their depth became increasingly clear.

Ten moves. Twenty moves... With every placement, Wang Muha found himself increasingly impressed by the young man’s skill.

“Hoo... It’s warm.”

“Is that so.”

“You ensure your allies live while targeting gaps with a peculiar style. Yet you leave no openings yourself... Your play is truly extraordinary.”

“Thank you for the praise.”

Wang Muha looked up from the board and fixed his eyes on Unwi.

“Do you know why I love the game of Go?”

With that deep voice, Unwi answered seriously.

“I can’t say for certain, but I enjoy Go myself. Would you like to hear my reason first?”

“Please.”

“Because it is a battle of person against person.”

At those words, Wang Muha’s eyes widened—as though he had just discovered something he had long been seeking.

“...Yes. That’s exactly how I see it. Regardless of rank or cultivation, whether one is a scholar, a king, or a martial artist, Go allows them to face each other on equal ground. That is why I love this game.”

“So we share a connection.”

Unwi placed another white stone. It landed with the grace of a snowflake on a spring day.

Wang Muha stared at him for a moment before speaking slowly.

“But how can someone who plays such elegant moves commit such cruelty? I heard you slaughtered them—and left the bodies discarded in a corner, like trash.”

“Cruelty, you say... As I mentioned before, Go is a battle of person against person.”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“How could it not? Within this small board, countless moves are exchanged, stones kill and are killed. But it is merely a battle between people.”

“...”

“But how can the fight of martial artists be considered a fight between people?”

“Hm...”

Then—

“What are your thoughts on Confucius’s concept of benevolence?”

“Benevolence... Confucius said, ‘To conquer oneself and return to ritual is benevolence.’ But I question that.”

“What do you question?”

“Whether ritual can ever be absolute. Mencius emphasized righteousness, Xunzi stressed ritual—but on the path of a martial artist, those often contradict.”

As Unwi placed another white stone, he continued,

“Look at this board. Black and white stones surround and seek to kill each other, yet within that is the Dao. Shouldn’t the path of martial artists also contain a Dao?”

“So you say that’s why you massacred the men at the mine?”

“Benevolence is not simply about showing mercy. If killing one person saves many, and if leaving the corpses where they lay can break the spirit of your enemies, then is that not also a form of benevolence?”

Wang Muha’s eyes gleamed.

“Mencius said, ‘The benevolent has no enemy.’”

“Indeed. But following that, he also said, ‘invincible under heaven.’ To be without enemies across the world doesn’t mean you made everyone an ally—it means you’ve awakened to the true Dao.”

It was astounding.

Could these words truly come from someone only seventeen years old?

“...An intriguing interpretation.”

Wang Muha set down a black stone as he spoke.

“But Mencius also said, ‘The people are of greatest importance.’”

“True. But here’s something to consider. Did Mencius mean people purely as a number?”

“What are you implying?”

Unwi lifted a white stone and examined it.

“He said, ‘The people are the foundation of the state.’ But that foundation—bon—is not just structural. It is the source of Dao.”

“Then what is this Dao you speak of?”

Unwi placed the white stone as he answered.

“Just as each move on this board builds toward the overall shape, so too does each individual person form the nation. But what matters most is the flow.”

“The flow, you say...”