A Friend in the Central Plains
Friend. To Yoo Jeong, the word felt incredibly foreign, echoing with a hollow ring. From his earliest memories, he had lived alone with his master in Muo Valley, deep within Mount Kuaiji. While other children played at being generals in village alleys or began their academic studies, Yoo Jeong was learning the sword from his master. The closest thing he had ever had to a friend was a bird he saw from time to time. There had been no romantic notions of befriending wild animals like rabbits or deer. Life in the mountains was not so elegant; wild beasts were not objects of empathy or companionship, but merely daily sustenance. Thus, Yoo Jeong had no concept of what friendship truly was. Until recently, the only people he had ever interacted with were his master and Innkeeper Jang. Even the latter was more of a financial relationship built on money.
Is it really precious enough to risk one's life for?
Yoo Jeong walked the streets of Hangzhou. The question that plagued him had begun the previous day with Namgung Sua.
When Namgung Sua, carrying scented soap and a change of clothes, came downstairs holding the Sword Empress, the situation was already entirely over. Along the stone wall, martial artists were lined up like children being punished, their faces pressed against the stone as they groaned. Their acupoints seemed to have been sealed, preventing them from even screaming properly, and not a single one of them had their limbs intact. Belatedly, she covered her grand-aunt's eyes, prompting a small, protesting grunt from the child. Fortunately, the Sword Empress was tired and did not resist much, allowing Namgung Sua to carry her out toward the inner courtyard.
"Sigh. What on earth happened here?"
She didn't know the full story, but Yoo Jeong was not the type to pick fights. Therefore, those men must have caused the trouble. Still, breaking them to pieces like this could lead to complications. Whether he knew that or not, Yoo Jeong was casually perched on the wall next to the bathhouse, fiddling with something.
"Young Master Yoo."
"Yes."
"What are you doing?"
"I heard there was a crack in the bathhouse wall that someone could peep through."
Namgung Sua's brow furrowed instantly. She had heard similar stories a few times when talking with the members of the Phoenix Squad. Rumors like ghost stories about inns that targeted women or wealthy guests. They would drill holes in bathhouses or bedrooms to spy, or release sleeping incense, or spike meals with aphrodisiacs. People called these spine-chilling establishments "black inns" (heokjeom).
Could those martial artists have been from a black inn?
But she soon shook her head. If it had been such a place, Yoo Jeong would not have shown any mercy. Indeed, Yoo Jeong shook his head as he stuffed the gap with a piece of cloth and climbed down.
"It's just a ventilation hole, so you can't really see inside. You don't need to worry."
"You didn't check it beforehand just so you could peep, did you?"
It was a playful joke, meant to tease him. She expected to see Yoo Jeong flustered.
Instead, his gaze slowly swept up and down her body, as if silently mocking her: At you?
"...I'm going in."
"Yes. Is Master asleep?"
"Nooo..."
"She's not asleep yet. Though she looks like she'll drift off any second."
"No. I'm not sleeping. Jeong-ah is a dummy."
Mumbling in a voice so quiet it sounded like she was fading away did not make her very convincing. Yoo Jeong found even this adorable, stroking her hair with a bright smile, but the current Sword Empress found even that annoying, shaking her head in petty rebellion.
"Anyway, the water is hot, so go ahead and wash. Master likes having her hair washed thoroughly."
"What about you, Young Master Yoo?"
"I have some cleaning up to do."
"Ah."
She recalled the scene in the inn lobby just moments ago. Although the furniture wasn't destroyed, the martial artists were strewn everywhere. If the waiter and the innkeeper tried to handle them, they might get blamed unfairly, making it a tricky situation. Watching Yoo Jeong's retreating back as he headed toward the lobby, Namgung Sua stepped into the bathhouse and let out a soft exclamation of admiration. The moment she opened the door, a gentle warmth washed over her. The water filling the large tub was steaming hot, just as he had said, filling the room with thick vapor.
"Now, Grand-Aunt. Let's take off your clothes."
"Mmh."
As she undid the layers of the Daoist robe and removed her hair crown, Namgung Sua thought that this bath might take quite a while.
"How is Master?"
"I made sure she was asleep before coming down."
The inn lobby was empty. After preparing a simple dish of stir-fried vegetables as a side, even the innkeeper had closed up shop and retired to the inner quarters, leaving the first floor entirely to Yoo Jeong and Namgung Sua.
"It's quiet."
"Yes. He said there are usually a few guests staying here..."
Yoo Jeong remained silent, knowing exactly why it was so quiet tonight. After the ruckus he had caused, the other guests were likely staying in their rooms, desperate to avoid getting caught up in any potential retaliation.
"Actually, this is better."
Hangzhou was a city always bustling with tourists. A quiet night in such a city had its own unique charm.
"Is that Shaoxing wine?"
Sitting across from Yoo Jeong with her chin resting on her hand, Namgung Sua's gaze drifted to the white ceramic bottle. Blue glaze patterns adorned the pale porcelain. Though the mouth was tightly sealed, it could not completely contain the subtle aroma of alcohol escaping from within.
"He called it Daughter's Red."
"My goodness. You bought Nu'er Hong?"
Namgung Sua's bead-like eyes widened at the name of the legendary wine she had only ever heard of. A famous Zhejiang vintage buried underground when a daughter is born and dug up only for her wedding. Because of its deep meaning, it was incredibly rare and precious—not something one could buy simply by having money. She had entrusted a portion of their travel funds to Yoo Jeong, so this sudden luxury naturally shocked her.
"I didn't buy it."
He was ignorant of the ways of the world. That was only natural, given his long isolation in the mountains. But that did not mean he was foolish or gullible. He hadn't lived in the mountains like a savage. He had engaged in economic activities under the ridiculous name of "protection fees" for a full two years. Yoo Jeong was not entirely lacking in financial sense. If anything, he was highly sensitive to money, knowing it directly affected his master's quality of life. No matter how much he might have wanted to try the wine, Yoo Jeong was the type to buy another sweet for his master rather than overspend on himself. Yet, the reason he had placed the Daughter's Red on the table was simple.
"He just gave it to me."
"Pardon?"
"The innkeeper gave it to me. He said he was grateful that I made sure nothing in his shop was broken."
When martial artists picked fights, tables and chairs were destroyed as a matter of course, not to mention pillars and walls. In severe cases, an inn might have to close for weeks to make repairs. To have such a disaster occur during peak season would make any owner spit blood in despair. Perhaps that was why, with the current tense atmosphere in Hangzhou's Murim, some inns had begun refusing guests carrying weapons altogether. So when a fight broke out in his own establishment, the innkeeper's heart must have dropped.
"He must have been deeply moved to see his shop completely intact, enough to bring out Daughter's Red."
"Is it really that precious?"
"Of course. If Elder Goegelgae found out about this, he would beat the ground in regret, lamenting that he should have come along."
"To give away such wine for free... suspicious."
Realizing the true value of the gift he had casually accepted, Yoo Jeong's expression turned serious.
"He probably wants to stay on your good side. It's a bribe, asking you to handle things cleanly like this if any future trouble arises, so his business doesn't suffer. May I open it?"
"Yes. I was waiting to drink it with you anyway."
"Hehe. Thanks to you, Young Master Yoo, I get to enjoy Daughter's Red."
Reaching out to break the seal of the bottle, Namgung Sua looked genuinely delighted.
"You seem to enjoy wine?"
"I don't love it as much as Elder Goegelgae does, but... I suppose I enjoy the novelty of new experiences. Oh, look. The scent is extraordinary, isn't it?"
It was just as she said. The faint aroma of alcohol grew much more distinct once the seal was broken, yet it was not overpowering. It drifted gently, clinging to the tip of the nose without the harsh sting typical of strong spirits. It felt less like sitting in an inn and more like resting in the middle of a lush orchard, enjoying the scent of fruit carried on a gentle breeze.
"Since you're the one who procured it, let me pour you a glass."
However, what captivated Yoo Jeong more than the aroma of the wine was the person before him. With her hair still damp and wearing light nightclothes instead of her usual martial robes, Namgung Sua exuded an entirely different aura. She looked so different that he wondered if she was truly the same woman he knew. Fearing he might get swept up in the mood, Yoo Jeong quickly changed the subject.
"You have something to say about the Divine Doctor, don't you?"
Clack.
Namgung Sua, who had been lifting the bottle to pour his drink, froze. It was a sensitive topic. Her unusually cheerful face instantly grew solemn. Yet, a trace of lingering disappointment could not be easily hidden.
"You really are a difficult person to keep up with, Young Master Yoo."
The complaint slipped out before she could stop it. She seemed surprised by her own words, her eyes widening. But Yoo Jeong, the subject of her complaint, remained completely unfazed.
"My master is my top priority."
Slowly, Yoo Jeong offered his cup, and Namgung Sua filled it. The scene remained the same, but the atmosphere had shifted. Perhaps displeased by this, Namgung Sua did not hand the bottle over. Instead, she filled her own cup and gulped down the Shaoxing wine—the precious Daughter's Red—as if it were cheap tavern brew. At the sudden influx of alcohol and the rising heat of the liquor, her inner cultivation, the Beoncheon Jiroegong, threatened to circulate of its own accord, but she deliberately suppressed it. As a result, the intoxication hit her instantly. Namgung Sua's face began to flush, turning the color of the crimson wine. Although Daughter's Red was a yellow wine with a relatively low alcohol content, her skin was naturally so pale that the contrast before and after drinking was stark.
"The Divine Doctor..."
Yoo Jeong, who had been raising his cup to follow her lead, set it back down and listened closely.
"She is the soulmate—the ji-eum—of the Sword Empress, your grand-aunt."
"Yes."
"Pardon?"
"Because they are soulmates, we must save her. Is that what you are saying?"
"Yes. So, if a soulmate is..."
"I already knew the two of them were close friends."
At his calm response, Namgung Sua's eyes shook violently.
The drinking session last night had ended quickly. Despite the presence of a legendary wine like Daughter's Red, the atmosphere had been heavier and more somber than a gathering over cheap tavern brew.
"Grand-Aunt is probably the only person to have ever received multiple Life-Saving Tokens from her."
"Given the Divine Doctor's strict rule of never treating martial artists, it must have been her way of showing how much she cared for Grand-Aunt. And Grand-Aunt once traveled a thousand miles just to help the Divine Doctor in return."
Namgung Sua had spoken passionately. She spoke with an uncharacteristic loudness, as if all the wine she drank had gone straight to her voice. She was so earnest in her attempt to persuade him that Yoo Jeong had to use a Qi barrier to block out the sound. She spoke of everything from the relationship between the Sword Empress and the Divine Doctor, to the bond between master and disciple, to the duties of humanity. She brought up every story she knew, but to him, it all sounded like tales from another world, like reading a book of heroic legends.
If someone had asked Yoo Jeong to risk his life for the sake of friendship, he would have laughed it off. To risk everything for a concept he didn't even understand was utterly absurd. But the value Namgung Sua spoke of was not his own. It was the bond between his master and the Divine Doctor—a bond he did not know. If it were his master, the Sword Empress... would she have willingly braved danger for the sake of her friend?
The scales in Yoo Jeong's heart creaked. To prioritize his master's safety, versus risking danger to seek a diagnosis from the Divine Doctor. In his previous calculations, the scales had tipped heavily toward the former. But the new weight Namgung Sua was trying to place on the scale—the weight of his master's friendship with the Divine Doctor—was something Yoo Jeong could not measure. Unable to find balance yet unable to tip to one side, the scales swayed endlessly. A swaying scale cannot perform its function, which in turn clouds one's judgment. And clouded judgment breeds regret.
So, Yoo Jeong set out alone. He left his master in Namgung Sua's care. He needed time to think by himself.
I don't know.
Yoo Jeong habitually stroked the hilt of Cheonru, concealed beneath his long robe. He thought it would have been much easier and more satisfying to simply wipe out a gang like the Seven Blades Sect, just as he had done yesterday. To stop agonizing, empty his mind, and just let the sword do the talking. The Yoo Jeong inside his heart seemed to whisper these thoughts.
But a sudden realization made him stop in his tracks. He had already known about the relationship between his master and the Divine Doctor. In the past, when his master spoke of her travels in the Murim, there were rare moments that brought a smile to her face, and the Divine Doctor was one of them. So why was he only now putting that relationship on the scales?
Yoo Jeong realized. It wasn't the weight of the bond that mattered.
"Ha. Has it only been a few days, and I've already grown attached?"
Just as she had said, perhaps he felt a sense of kinship because they were of the same sect. Her respectful attitude toward his master, which rivaled his own... though it occasionally annoyed him, it was still pleasing. Before he knew it, they had become close enough for him to actually consider her words in his decisions. Was this what friendship was? The words he couldn't comprehend during their drink last night now felt just a tiny bit closer to his heart.
With that thought, Yoo Jeong whistled. Carrying the melody infused with his inner energy, he picked up a wide stone and began to write. His finger, imbued with Qi, carved characters smoothly into the stone as if drawing in the sand.
Answering his whistle, a hawk cried out from above. When Yoo Jeong stopped his finger, four neat characters were engraved on the stone.
Jeong Seeks the Divine Doctor