Pursuit - 5
"Stay."
When the low voice shattered the silence of the thatched hut, Park Cheol was sitting alone in the kitchen, staring into the pot. A half-rusted iron cauldron bubbled with barley porridge. He thought it looked no different from himself. The old man's gaze lingered on the porridge, then shifted to the rust, before dropping to his feet. His left ankle was grotesquely twisted. It didn't hinder basic movement. It simply couldn't bear any weight.
"Stay."
The voice came again. Only then did Park Cheol slowly step out of the kitchen toward the outside. The weathered face of the old man emerged obliquely between the hut's walls.
"I've heard a man named Park Cheol lives here."
"Ah, hello?"
There were two of them. A gloomy-looking young man and a young girl in expensive clothes. Plenty of strangers had come looking for his home before. A man and a girl this time. Nothing different, probably. The parched voice of the old man leaked out.
"What brings you here?"
"We have questions. Simple ones, so don't worry."
"I have nothing to tell you. You've already sent people several times to check. I know nothing about the young lady's affairs."
The old man's words carried a tone of resignation. He'd repeated the same thing countless times already. Tediously, over and over. This time wouldn't be any different.
"On the contrary."
But the man continued calmly.
"We're here to ask about the people who came to you. Do you remember what they were like?"
"......That."
Park Cheol's vacant eyes fixed on the man. Or perhaps on the countless men from his memories beyond him. There had been so many. Sometimes middle-aged men with beards. Sometimes dangerous-looking youths. Sometimes ruffians from the unorthodox sects who resorted to threats. People he should never have been entangled with. Their forms differed, but their essence was the same. They all repeated the exact same story.
The young lady he once served, the last head of the Cheon Family Manor, had committed a grave sin. She'd fled after a horrific misdeed, so if he ever spotted her, he should report it. They'd offer a huge reward, money, and even fix his leg.
"They......"
His words slowed. Trailed off. He knew. Lady Cheon Sohyang, whom he'd carried on his back and raised—she wasn't the type. She might commit a minor fault, but she could never kill comrades or innocents and run. He could swear it even before the Jade Emperor. He absolutely could. Or at least, he could have.
"What good does tracking them down now do? It'll be meaningless."
He'd suspected it. The young lady had gotten caught up in something ugly. Bad people were chasing her. The old man's world was simple. It once had been. Naive and pure. The young lady was a good person, so if she was being pursued, her hunters must be wicked and brutal. That purity held a fragment of truth, but it offered no strength. Above all, the old man knew deep down.
"They're strong. Far stronger than you can imagine......"
His gaze unconsciously drifted to his ankle. This leg. This damned, half-useless leg. Why did I slip in winter? Why was that grass tied so strangely?—the old man thought such things dozens of times a day. He was pure, but not a fool. He knew why the young lady had vanished, and where the money for his treatment had come from. Given the family's circumstances, it was obvious. The reason suspicious men kept showing up at his door, the reason the young lady had gotten involved with them... it was nothing else.
"......Urgh!"
"No!"
The girl reacted first. The old man had suddenly grabbed a kitchen knife from the stove and swung it toward his own leg. Dang So-young spotted the intent with her keen eyes and swiftly snatched the knife from his hand. There was a brief struggle. But how could an old man ignorant of martial arts break through the Golden Snail Technique of the Sacheon Dang family's direct line? Soon enough, he could only turn back to the man with hollow eyes.
And the man said,
"Pull yourself together."
"What right do I have to pull myself together? It's all over."
"Even if it's over, you must. Isn't that why she saved your life?"
The man didn't shout or bellow. Instead, he spoke with cold sternness, listing what was needed step by step.
"Who owns this land? Did that child promise to return, or not? If you know the answers, why aren't you acting? Resignation isn't your duty. Is a retainer who can't even care for himself in a crumbling hut fitting for that child? Whose honor are you tarnishing right now?"
"I... I'm just a shameless, worthless wretch... nothing more..."
"Do you think that child would say the same? Was her life wasted saving a shameless wretch?"
"......"
The old man bowed his head. The man's tone didn't change. He spoke softly, steadily.
"The meaning of life is something you decide for yourself. Your life isn't finished. Tend this field with all your might until that child returns. That's the retainer fitting for her."
"......Who are you?"
"Me?"
The man's eyes darkened. The old man realized even the girl beside him was staring intently. What words would come? What answer awaited him? After a long silence, the man finally spoke.
"Just a mere man... searching for his disciple."
"Understood."
Only then did a faint light—ever so faint—return to the old man's eyes.
"I'll explain everything I remember in as much detail as possible."
*
A considerable time passed. Jang Cheon obtained detailed information on the appearances and speech of the three men who had visited the old retainer. On the way back, Dang So-young asked,
"Not mad?"
"About what?"
"Well, um. This is just my take, might be meddling, but... that person is connected to the disciple you're looking for, right?"
"Yes."
Dang So-young stopped there. She could have continued speculating. She had her guesses about who the disciple might be. Even if she'd never met her in person, a family head in Seongdo couldn't escape the Sacheon Dang family's notice. But such guesses would be impolite. So Dang So-young consciously held back.
"Hearing what you said to him, it seemed... like something that'd make anyone angry."
"Indeed."
He didn't know the full story. But if the retainer he'd last entrusted her to was living like that, he'd failed his duty. Dang So-young might have raged. It was a vague feeling. The girl had never actually flown into such anger. No one like that existed in the Dang family.
Yet Jang Cheon said,
"Truth be told, I wanted to kill him."
"What?!"
"I wanted to sever his head in an instant. That was someone the child resolved to save with her own life. He had to be worthy of that. If he knew what he'd done, he shouldn't have lived like this."
"S-So, y-you wanted to k-k-kill him? What kind of......"
"My heart wanted to."
Jang Cheon let out a deep sigh.
"But I can't. Not anymore."
"Why......?"
"Because I'm her master."
The memory that always flowed through his mind was one. Cheon Sohyang donning new martial robes, unfolding the picturesque Twin Phoenix Cooperative Dance, growing, maturing, sharing trivial stories, sometimes crying, sometimes laughing, sometimes fighting—and then, eventually, struggling to free him from his iron chains. On the day she kowtowed nine times. Whether he wished it or not, he'd taken a disciple. It was irreversible. A master burdened with an undeserving disciple had to live up to her caliber somehow. Only then could he claim the right to call himself Cheon Sohyang's master, even if by force.
But instead of explaining all this to Dang So-young, Jang Cheon summed it up in one sentence.
"A family arises from its people."
"Huh?"
"If you don't know, remember it. Every family is made by the people within. Never neglect them or treat them on a whim. Uphold courtesy and strict rewards and punishments, but always watch their hearts to ensure nothing goes awry."
Dang So-young looked at Jang Cheon with slightly complicated eyes. The girl seemed about to speak, mumbling, frowning, shaking her head.
It was the same nagging she'd heard from the family elders. Words drilled into her ears until they bled. Yet why did they resonate now?
"Um... sorry, I get it for now......"
For some reason, she wanted to nitpick more.
"You're saying this after getting married, right?"
"......?"
And for the first time, Dang So-young learned that Jang Cheon could make a blank, dumbfounded face.
"No, forget it. What was I saying? Let's keep investigating."
"Good idea."
Jang Cheon cleared his throat unusually, then recalled something more important. The new information from Park Cheol's tale. The three people searching for Cheon Sohyang. A middle-aged man, a youth, and a black-clad thug. Which of the three to track first? With no idea where they lived, they'd have to start from the bottom up. He was at a loss here. Knowledge from three hundred years ago wouldn't apply now.
"Come to think of it, one of them might ring a bell?"
Suddenly, a carefree voice came from beside him. It was Dang So-young.