The Heavenly Martial Star (Cheonmuseong)
The Sword Immortal's expression was more spirited than ever.
Watching him, Jin Seongun had come to suspect that the Sword Immortal rather enjoyed quietly bragging about himself.
The Sword Immortal continued in a solemn tone.
"Throughout the long history of the Central Plains, many have been called sword immortals, yet in the truest sense of the word, I alone am the Sword Immortal."
"Oh…"
"You need not know more than that. I did not say it to boast—I spoke only so you would understand the weight of the sword you are learning. Your task, Seongun, is simply to train with all your heart."
As Jin Seongun nodded along, a blurry afterimage streaked past behind the Sword Immortal.
"Quite the humble fellow, aren't you."
It was Shintu.
He had a habit of running laps whenever boredom struck.
The Sword Immortal's eyes flashed wide as he glared after him, but Shintu was already a distant dot on the horizon.
It was a breathtaking movement art befitting the self-proclaimed greatest thief of all time. That he was using it to provoke the Sword Immortal was, if anything, the only problem.
"Shintu really is fast, isn't he."
At Jin Seongun's remark, the Sword Immortal let out a dry chuckle.
"Can a man truly outrun a sword?"
With that, he drew the reddish sword at his waist and hurled it into the empty air.
Miraculously, the sword floated in place.
The Sword Immortal leapt up and landed astride it.
In an instant, he and the sword shot off in the direction Shintu had vanished, moving so fast that the very air trembled and fractured behind them.
A moment later, a scream came drifting back from far away.
"AAAAARGH!"
Apparently, Shintu had been caught.
Jin Seongun was clicking his tongue as he watched the direction the two had disappeared when the Merchant King approached and gave his shoulder a friendly pat.
"Seongun, congratulations. You've just taken your first true step as a merchant."
No one understood better than the Merchant King how heart-pounding a first day of trade could be.
"If ever hardship finds you, come to me at any time and ask. Never forget who your teacher is."
"Thank you."
Jin Seongun bowed his head.
And just as dependable as a Sword Immortal riding his blade through the sky was the Merchant King, greatest trader of all the ages.
This time Daji, having finished gathering up her baduk stones, came over to add a word.
"Seongun. Unlike the others, I don't have much left to teach you. But whether it's matters of the heart or small worries of your own, whenever you find yourself longing to talk to someone, come see me anytime."
Daji possessed a voice that settled the restless heart like warm water.
Even Jin Seongun, unflinching as he was, always found his mind growing calm whenever he spoke with her.
"You've already given me the greatest thing of all."
Through several battles, Jin Seongun had come to understand just how extraordinary the Yeowol Mind Art he had learned from Daji truly was.
Jin Seongun's dantian was pitifully small.
Yet he never once ran short of internal energy. To be precise, it replenished itself the instant it was spent, with every breath he drew.
During his daily work, while he slept, even in the heat of combat—his energy kept refilling itself without pause.
This went far beyond what the martial world called donggong, the active accumulation of qi through movement. This was not a matter of building reserves through breathing techniques; it filled itself even when he gave it no thought at all.
When Jin Seongun bowed his head, Daji smiled the most contented smile in the world.
"My. You speak as sweetly as you look. And remember—there are troubles only a woman can understand, ones no man ever will. Come find me whenever you like."
Jin Seongun bowed once more.
He had never known his mother's face, but it occurred to him vaguely that a mother must be something like this.
The Sword Immortal and Shintu still had not returned, and he had finished greeting the Merchant King and Daji.
A little way off, as always, sat the Blood Demon, gazing up at the sky.
Jin Seongun offered him only a silent nod. The man was odd-tempered, certainly—but he too had passed on something extraordinary.
Dawn broke.
The shattered furnishings had been repaired flawlessly.
Jin Seongun finished cleaning and was waiting when a man lifted the door curtain and stepped inside.
It was Seo Yugyeom.
In his assassin's garb his features had always been sharp as a blade, but dressed like an ordinary man, he almost looked like a young noble raised on silken pillows.
"What's that?"
Jin Seongun pointed at the short blade in Seo Yugyeom's hand. Surely he wasn't planning to keep using that thing.
"A kitchen knife."
"…No matter how I look at it, that seems better suited to filleting people than cooking for them."
"I've used blades like this my whole life, so it's what my hands know. Watch."
With that, Seo Yugyeom glared at the radish he'd brought in along with the knife, then flung it into the air.
He dropped into stance.
A chill frost gathered beneath his feet, and then—
Whoosh!
Shiink!
The short blade swept through the air with truly staggering force, shredding the radish into dozens of slices before a single breath had passed.
Had it been a person rather than a radish, they would have died before they even managed to react.
Seo Yugyeom held out his open palm, and the finely slivered radish came showering down onto it.
"For breakfast, radish soup."
"…Sounds good."
He had been about to tell the man to use an ordinary kitchen knife, but recalling the soup Seo Yugyeom's skills could produce, his mouth shut itself.
At every inn he had worked before, the head cook would make breakfast for the staff before the day's business began.
This was the first morning meal since founding Seongun Inn, so Jin Seongun found himself quietly looking forward to it.
As befit a former assassin, Seo Yugyeom's hands were fast.
In no time at all the soup was ready, and the two of them ate it together with deep satisfaction.
Jin Seongun then stepped outside and, feeling a fresh flutter of nerves, reached out and flipped over the signboard.
We're open.
At long last, this was the beginning of Seongun Inn.
Back inside the inn, Jin Seongun stared fixedly at the entrance.
And so a quarter of an hour passed.
The quarter hour became half of one, and before he knew it a full hour had slipped by.
"Well. It's not quite lunchtime yet."
Having consoled himself thus, Jin Seongun resumed glaring at the entrance with the same unwavering concentration he brought to a martial technique.
Two more hours crawled past.
Lunchtime had already come and gone.
Not a single customer.
"What is going on?"
Jin Seongun tilted his head.
Could it be that the OPEN sign was simply too small?
Just then, Seo Yugyeom appeared at his shoulder without him noticing and laid a hand on it.
"What do you think? What shop in the world takes off on day one? A few customers trickle in now and then, you impress the hell out of them, and you wait for word of mouth to spread. Business is patience."
"Oh…"
It was a convincing argument.
In truth, the inns where Jin Seongun had worked were already established concerns, so he had never even considered this side of things.
"Me, I've got no complaints. I laze around and still get paid. There's no sweeter deal than this."
"…"
Seo Yugyeom grinned like a man thoroughly enjoying himself, then headed back to the kitchen.
For some reason the sight of his retreating back grated on Jin Seongun's nerves—but unfortunately, he had no rebuttal.
That was when it happened.
The presence of a person drew near the inn.
Presently a plump, round-bellied man appeared.
It was Noh Sangwon, owner of the Sangwon Fabric Shop.
"…You came."
"Hahaha, what kind of greeting is that! I'm a customer too, you know."
Despite the lukewarm reception, Jin Seongun nodded and showed him to what was arguably the finest seat in the inn.
"Congratulations. After all that hoping and praying, you've found yourself a cook, I hear. What sort of man is he? Introduce me so I can pay my respects."
"That won't be possible."
"Hm?"
"He's a bit… shy."
Whatever else might be true of him, Seo Yugyeom was a man hunted by Salmak.
The less he showed his face, the better.
Jin Seongun had even gone so far as to buy and hang a screen to deliberately hide the kitchen.
"A inn of mystery, is it? Well, that's rather special. I like it."
Noh Sangwon laughed heartily, plainly delighted.
A short while later, the food arrived.
It was the stir-fried vegetables and noodles that Jin Seongun had praised to the skies.
Noh Sangwon, who carried some unpleasant memories involving noodles, eyed the bowl warily at first before cautiously raising a single bite.
The instant he did, a thunderbolt struck through his mind.
A gourmand's lifetime of decades. The journey to growing this plump had been anything but easy.
Noh Sangwon had tasted every food there was to taste, and he was certain.
"This will do."
"Excuse me?"
"You, my friend, have nothing left to worry about. No—wait, that's not the way to put it. Just give me a moment."
Noh Sangwon suddenly sprang to his feet and rushed outside, shouting at the top of his lungs.
"You there! Have you eaten? And you? Anyone who hasn't eaten, gather round—today the meal is on me!"
Out of nowhere, he began rounding up the local merchants.
The moment word spread that the skinflint Noh Sangwon was spending money, merchants of every stripe came flocking to the inn.
The moment the once-empty inn filled with bustling life, Noh Sangwon declared for all to hear:
"Braised Dongpo pork and sweet-bean pork for every table!"
"H-hey, isn't that a bit heavy for midday?"
"Oh, come now! Look at our Seongun here. He reminds me so much of myself in my younger days that I've resolved to buy him the finest food in celebration. Take a good look—doesn't he resemble me? Why, when I was young, my jawline was sharp as a blade, just like this."
Noh Sangwon stroked his own chin.
Where a blade's edge should have been, there was something more like kneaded dumpling dough.
"How the years do mock a man."
When Noh Sangwon smiled a sudden, wistful smile, the merchants burst into roaring laughter.
A short while passed, and the braised pork and sweet-bean pork were being set down upon each table.
Noh Sangwon sidled up to Jin Seongun and lowered his voice.
"Exactly half an hour from now, bring me—and only me—a bottle of jukyeopcheong."
Jin Seongun nodded.
What was one bottle of jukyeopcheong, next to a guest this precious?
Everyone was enjoying the meal.
The cook's skill was truly extraordinary, and the compliments kept coming.
The atmosphere was pure, festering warmth.
If one had to name a single flaw, it was that both the Dongpo pork and the sweet-bean pork were rich and oily, and people were beginning to lose the taste for more.
At that moment, Jin Seongun brought out a bottle of jukyeopcheong, exactly as Noh Sangwon had asked.
"I never thought I'd live to see the day I drank jukyeopcheong in Yichang!"
Noh Sangwon made a show of raising his voice, popped the seal, and swirled the bottle this way and that.
At once its signature honeyed aroma bloomed across the room, and when he poured, he let the wine fall from a height so all could admire its pale jade clarity.
The sound of gulping rose from every corner.
"I said I was buying the food—I never said a word about buying the wine. If you want to drink, drink at your own expense."
Then Noh Sangwon took a great bite of Dongpo pork.
Twenty years he had run his fabric shop. His twin talents were distinguishing fine silks, and eating well.
As if entranced, everyone in the room could only watch him.
He chewed the pork slowly and thoughtfully, then drained a cup of jukyeopcheong in one clean pull.
"Ahhhhhh!"
At that very moment, people all around could no longer hold back and began ordering jukyeopcheong of their own.
It was by no means a cheap liquor.
But they had just been treated to a free meal, and everyone was feeling uncharacteristically generous about the price of a drink.
"A bottle over here!"
"Here too!"
Jin Seongun bustled about, ferrying out bottle after bottle.
A smash hit from the very first day.
The truth was, an inn only made real money selling drink, not food.
And with a relatively expensive liquor like jukyeopcheong, the margins were truly enormous.
Noh Sangwon might have looked like a slapdash old fool, but he was a man who had kept a shop running in one spot for twenty years.
Marvelling at the old fox's shrewdness, Jin Seongun bowed his head to him and even threw in a thumbs-up.
Noh Sangwon's smile nearly lifted him off the ground. After all, the easiest thing in the world was to make the uncle next door happy.
The first day's business closed in triumph.
In the emptied inn, Jin Seongun and Seo Yugyeom sat facing one another.
Between them sat a simple plate of stir-fried pork and a bottle of jukyeopcheong.
"You worked hard."
"Turns out it's about as exhausting as killing people for a living. Well—no one died today, so I suppose that's a mercy?"
It was meant as a joke.
But since Jin Seongun didn't so much as blink, Seo Yugyeom grew awkward and changed the subject.
"How does a man your age come to open his own inn?"
"I was born an orphan, and I worked as a waiter. That's all there is to it. I never wanted to be anything else."
At Jin Seongun's matter-of-fact answer, Seo Yugyeom nodded slowly.
"We really do have things in common, then. I felt it the first time I saw you. The truth is, I'm an orphan too."
"Doesn't change a thing about living. So it's fine."
"That's right. An innkeeper in his prime, owner of a respectable establishment—you. And me, an assassin of Salmak. Who's going to look down on either of us?"
Jin Seongun studied him steadily.
He hadn't touched the wine yet, but somehow Seo Yugyeom already looked drunk.
"Been drinking on the job?"
"A little?"
Jin Seongun clicked his tongue.
And yet the man had done his work flawlessly, so there was nothing more to say.
Seo Yugyeom went on.
"Even between two orphans, you had it better than me."
"Why do you say that?"
"It would have been kinder if my parents had simply abandoned me. I was born killing them."
With that, Seo Yugyeom looked Jin Seongun dead in the eye.
Ordinary people lose their composure the moment a stranger brings up something this dark.
But Jin Seongun remained calm and dry from beginning to end. That was exactly what Seo Yugyeom liked about him.
"Aren't you curious?"
"Everyone has their story. If you want to tell it, tell it."
Seo Yugyeom broke into a wide grin.
He had never made a friend in his life, but he found himself thinking that this, perhaps, was what it would feel like.
"You ever heard of something called the Cheonmuseong? The Heavenly Martial Star? The reason my whole life has gone so wrong—it's all because of that cursed star."
Jin Seongun nearly spat out the jukyeopcheong in his mouth.
The Martial Gods had said that one born under the light of the Heavenly Martial Star bore the Cheonmujiche—the Heavenly Martial Body—and that this was Jin Seongun himself.
He had never dreamed the topic would fall out of Seo Yugyeom's mouth, so he forced out the words.
"Th-the Heavenly Martial Star? What's that?"
At the same moment, Seo Yugyeom's eyes narrowed to slits.