Identity
In a forest so dense that even the midday sun could not pierce its canopy, the black-clad figures the tavern had seen earlier cut through the undergrowth, moving in the shadows the trees cast across the ground.
"I don't know how this happened. What am I supposed to tell Master?"
In the heavy silence, one of them glanced around and spoke with cautious hesitation.
Beside him, another black-clad man—running with an unconscious fellow slung over his back—let out a short sigh.
"Tell him the truth. Master isn't the sort to berate us just because we failed to handle a single tavern."
He said it calmly enough, but his thoughts were no less tangled for it.
Where in the world had a master of that caliber come from, so suddenly?
And what was more, she was a young woman—so young he could not even be sure she had yet reached womanhood.
As he brooded over the setback, the man on his back stirred and let out a groan as he came to.
"...Mm."
"Senior Brother. Are you awake?"
"...If I can hear your voice, I suppose I am."
With a light joke, the man stepped down onto the ground, then quickly circulated his internal energy to assess his condition.
"Hoo..."
Fortunately, aside from the aching pain where he had been struck, there seemed to be no serious damage.
"I have no face left to show you."
What could anyone say to a martial artist who had done his utmost and still lost?
Knowing that clumsy consolation would only make things worse, the black-clad men kept their heads bowed and remained silent for a while.
After a moment, the man who had carried him broke the hush first.
"...Though it wasn't said that she acted of her own accord, that group moved as if they had been waiting for us. It's too perfect to be chance. Could the Tang Clan be sheltering outsiders..."
"Enough."
The man cut him off sharply.
"If they were hired by the Tang Clan, or had some connection to them, do you think we could have left in one piece like this? Besides... now that I've fought her myself, I understand. That woman is a master even the Tang Clan wouldn't dare move against lightly."
"At that level...?"
When the black-clad men looked at him in disbelief, the man let out a brief, dry laugh.
"What, do you think I'm making excuses because it's shameful to have been beaten by a girl?"
"Senior Brother!"
"Absolutely not!"
"How could you say that?"
At his half-serious joke, the black-clad men hastily shook their heads.
For better or worse, the final martial art he had displayed in the duel would have overwhelmed any of them in a single exchange.
"I'm saying it because I can hardly believe it myself. Don't mind me."
So saying, the man slowly replayed the scene from just before he had lost consciousness.
The decisive strike unleashed with an explosive burst of wind.
The young woman standing before him without having taken a single step.
And himself, collapsing only much later, despite having been struck hard enough to black out.
Was her speed faster than what I could even perceive?
There was no defense in the world that could not be broken by superior skill—but speed alone could not be broken.
When the words he had once heard from his master came back to him, the man’s expression turned bitter.
So it wasn't wrong after all. I really was broken by something faster than me.
He had always thought nothing in the world could be swifter or freer than the wind.
With a deep sigh, the man pressed the bamboo hat in his hand back down over his brow.
"I thought I had built something substantial, but it seems I'll have to start from the beginning again. The road ahead is long, so we should be moving."
---
However fierce the wind may be, how could it stop the footsteps of a knight-errant who walked the path of righteousness and chivalry?
Rather than halt him, it only blew away the dust of the mortal world clinging to his clothes.
And so, in the heart of a hero, the setting sun settled once more.
Looking out the window at the sinking light, Cheongwol forced down the corners of her mouth, which kept trying to lift.
"That was truly extraordinary! I beg you, I hope to become a splendid hero like Cheongwol-sojeo someday!"
Seemingly deeply moved by the duel, Ak Seo-ah's eyes shone brighter than ever.
"Whether it's a fight to the death or a duel, how did you say something like that at such a moment? Do you practice these lines in advance? If so, I should start preparing a few myself!"
By then, Cheongwol was beginning to feel a little embarrassed by the barrage, but what did it matter?
The heat of the duel still had not faded, so she only grinned.
"Even if you think of it beforehand, it won't help. Only when the moment comes do the right words rise up on their own."
"Ohhh...!"
Of course, those were in fact words she had imagined and repeated countless times before falling asleep—words she had meant to say if she ever found herself in a situation like today's.
Watching the two of them trade back and forth was its own little comedy, but to the tavern owner, it was simply the conversation of heroes from a tale.
"Now then, your food."
With a satisfied smile, he set an array of dishes on the table, and both of their eyes widened.
"Aren't you overdoing it? We can't possibly eat this much!"
"Right. I can eat it all... though maybe I won't be able to finish it."
At Cheongwol's words, Ak Seo-ah turned in surprise to look at her.
Sure enough, Cheongwol had already been snared by the dazzling Sichuan dishes spread before her.
"If you've saved our lives, the least we can do is this."
So saying, the tavern owner clasped his hands and bowed formally to them.
"I had thought the jianghu had already lost its righteousness and chivalry. But seeing the two of you today, I realize that was only my own mistake. This is just a small token of my gratitude to two heroes. Please, don't refuse it."
Moved by his humble thanks, Ak Seo-ah waved her hands.
"The hero is Cheongwol-sojeo alone. I..."
"You, too, are a hero."
The tavern owner said it with quiet certainty, then smiled.
"Wasn't it you who first raised your voice for the sake of this tavern? If someone has thrown themselves forward to protect others, what else can you call them but a hero?"
Cheongwol slowly nodded as well.
"Didn't you say that anyone who calls themselves a hero isn't a true hero? Well, now the tavern owner has recognized you as one, so congratulations."
Watching Ak Seo-ah's cheeks go red at last, Cheongwol lifted the corners of her mouth.
"You're a real hero now."
---
Before the joy of being recognized as a hero had even fully settled in, Ak Seo-ah's face turned to one of sheer horror.
Not only had the table already been covered with food, but more and more dishes kept appearing before her eyes.
And where had all that food gone, in the brief span it took a pair of chopsticks to move a few times?
The tavern owner's expression was no different from hers.
He had spared no effort in entertaining his saviors, pouring every ingredient he had into the kitchen and preparing a feast, fully prepared for leftovers.
Yet the young woman before him seemed to possess considerable talent not only in martial arts, but in appetite as well.
"They say the best cuisine in the Central Plains is found in Beijing and Sichuan. My grandfather was right. This was truly delicious."
Whether the food suited her tastes so well or not, Cheongwol's eyes curved with satisfaction.
Indeed, if it hadn't tasted good, how could she possibly have eaten so much of it?
I was worried it might be too spicy for her, but if she says it was good, then that's a relief.
After the initial shock passed, the tavern owner soon let out a soft chuckle.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it. While you were eating, I had the upstairs room tidied up, so please stay the night. As for—"
Just as he was about to turn away with the empty plates, Cheongwol called out to him.
"Wait. There's something I want to ask."
"...What is it?"
Seeing the seriousness in her eyes, he set the plates down again.
"Those black-clad men we saw today—do you know them?"
It was a sharper question than he had expected; the tavern owner's hand paused for a moment.
"...I'm curious why you think that."
Cheongwol slowly replied, recalling the scene from when the black-clad men first stepped into the tavern.
"Your expression didn't seem all that flustered. How should I put it? It was as though you were facing something you had already expected."
"..."
"And their behavior was too smooth, too natural. You hadn't said much to those men, but you were already trying to usher us out. It was almost as if that had been the plan from the beginning."
With the mood suddenly turning into an interrogation of the tavern owner, Ak Seo-ah hurriedly stepped in.
"Cheongwol-sojeo, I'm sure the tavern owner had his reasons..."
"Seo-ah. Be quiet."
Cheongwol cut her off cleanly, then fixed her gaze on the tavern owner.
"I'm not accusing you of anything. I just think we should get to the bottom of anything that doesn't sit right."
The firmness in her voice made it clear she had already formed some conclusion. After a brief pause, the tavern owner seemed to make up his mind, pulled over an empty chair, and sat down.
Then, after a small sigh, he looked back and forth between the two of them and spoke.
"Since it's the request of my benefactors, I will tell you—but you must never speak of this aloud. At least not anywhere within Sichuan. Can you promise me that?"
What could he possibly be about to say that required such reluctance?
Growing impatient, Cheongwol nodded without even asking Ak Seo-ah.
"I promise. I won't tell anyone."
"Good."
Only after slowly swallowing a sip of water did the tavern owner finally speak the black-clad men's identity.
"This is... difficult to explain. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say they are those who know, though they do not know. Those black-clad men were probably martial artists of the Qingcheng Sect."