24. I'd Like to Request a Lecture
"Huh? What's this?"
Confronted with the wholly unexpected item, Soyul shot Cho Ja-un a look of mingled bewilderment and disappointment, but he did not so much as glance at her; he simply held the object out once more.
"It's a gift."
"This is?"
"...What, don't you like it? You seemed to keep eyeing it at the market that time, so I bought it for you..."
At that unforeseen reaction, Cho Ja-un's pupils wavered ever so slightly.
What he had so awkwardly fished out and offered was an ordinary woman's hair ornament.
Soyul studied the blue, flower-shaped trinket, then looked back up at Cho Ja-un, but he still would not meet her eyes, his gaze fixed on some distant peak.
She remembered how, the day they had gone to the market together to buy snacks, her eyes had drifted to that very ornament of their own accord, and she had caught herself looking at it again and again.
But she hadn't liked the fact that she'd been staring at such a thing in the first place — and she liked the idea of buying it less, and of wearing it less still — so she had simply shaken her head and walked on by.
Apparently Cho Ja-un had been watching her closely all along, and had gone and bought it at some point without her knowing.
He was still gazing at the far-off mountains, yet he somehow looked even more awkward now that her reaction was not what he had expected — and before she knew it, Soyul burst out laughing.
"Ahaha."
"Don't laugh, now."
"Okay, okay. Sorry. Thank you for the gift. I'll make good use of it."
He had braced himself for more teasing, so when Soyul unexpectedly accepted the ornament along with her thanks, it was Cho Ja-un who looked startled, an eyebrow climbing upward.
"That is not like you, Lady Kang."
"What isn't?"
"I thought you would tease me further."
"The image of you picking out a lady's ornament with me in mind is so vivid — how am I supposed to tease you after that? Kyahaha."
"...And yet you tease me all the same."
"Oh, by the way — how do you actually wear this thing? I've never put on anything like it."
"G-goodness... here, give it over."
The ornament kept slipping loose before she could pin it in properly, until Cho Ja-un, unable to watch any longer, reached out and fastened it into her hair himself.
"There. That is how it is done."
"Oh? And how do you know so much about ladies' ornaments, hm?"
"W-well, one can tell simply by looking at the thing. It is your handling of it that is clumsy, Lady Kang."
"Hmmm. So? Does it suit me?"
At the sight of Soyul glancing back over her shoulder, the blue flower perched in her hair, Cho Ja-un nodded.
She truly was lovely — her delicately wrought features, her large bright eyes, even the faint trace of mischief that dwelled within them.
"It suits you. Very much so."
"Heading off now?"
"...How did you know?"
Cho Ja-un had in fact been fretting over how to broach the subject, and the moment he heard her say it, all that tension drained out of him.
"One can tell simply by looking, can one not? It is Young Hero Cho who is the clumsy one."
"Ahem..."
With Soyul throwing his very own words back at him — tone of voice included — Cho Ja-un's mouth opened and closed wordlessly.
"So where are you headed? I'll get to see you again, won't I?"
"Of course. I have business to entrust to the Beggars' Sect, so I shall stop by there briefly before returning to my home sect."
"I see. Then see you later. I don't know how long I'll be at Mount Hua, but if I ever leave, I'll drop by your place, Ja-un. I want to see with my own eyes how well you're doing for yourself. And I'll expect a free meal, too."
"The Jinsong Sect resides in Henan. Come and visit whenever you please. You shall be welcomed most warmly."
"Right. Take care of yourself."
"Lady Kang."
"Hm?"
Cho Ja-un lifted his arm in one crisp motion and offered a cupped-fist salute, every line of him composed and courteous.
"I sincerely hope that Mount Hua grants you much. Thank you for being my companion in conversation all this while."
"Yeah. I'm grateful too. See you around."
Seeing Soyul forgo the salute entirely and simply wave her hand, Cho Ja-un let out a quiet snort of laughter, waved back in kind, and then turned to make his unhurried way down Mount Hua.
As if he had never smiled at all, his face — turned away from her — was by then brimming over with a fury that might have brought down Mount Tai itself.
Those sons of bitches who laid their hands on my pure, innocent friend — I will never let them go.
With every step Cho Ja-un took toward the Beggars' Sect in search of the unidentified culprits — the impostors who had falsely claimed an orthodox sect's name while forcing Soyul into a courtesan's life — killing intent seeped deeper into his stride.
"Hm. You can tell he's furious just from the way he walks, huh?"
Soyul, who had been watching his retreating figure, set off toward Perfected One Cheongsu's quarters — and stopped short, realizing she had no idea where they were.
"Ah, I should've asked Ja-un. Fine, I'll just ask the Sect Leader."
"Is everyone gathered?"
"Yes, Sect Leader."
Cheonghyeon had summoned every one of his disciples intending to give them a brief explanation about Soyul, and now he addressed the hundreds of them kneeling in ordered rows before him.
Those blockheaded children might well chatter about Soyul behind her back, and should talk of courtesans or her manner of dress ever reach those delicate(?) ears of hers, she might be hurt — and so he meant to muzzle their tongues in advance.
"You are all aware that we have a guest staying within our sect at present."
"......"
"That young lady was once held captive in a courtesan house against her will. By a stroke of fortune she met one of Mount Hua's seniors, learned martial arts, and only barely escaped — a soul marked by wretched fate. That is also why she wears only the clothes familiar to her."
The disciples quietly bent their ears to Cheonghyeon's words.
"I speak of this now because I fear you might spin all manner of tales about our guest's past and smear Mount Hua's good name. Consider, too, how great her hardships must have been."
Pausing there for a moment, Cheonghyeon took note of the disciples who were, sure enough, casting faintly strange looks at the mention of a courtesan's background, and pressed on.
"And I can see perfectly well which disciples of shallow discipline have been fussing over her manner of dress."
Dozens of the kneeling figures flinched.
"That lady is an honored guest who has already bestowed an immense debt of grace upon our Mount Hua. From this moment, you will not so much as cast a glance her way over such trifles, nor create any situation in which she might feel the slightest discomfort. Am I understood?"
"......"
"Why is no one answering?"
At Cheonghyeon's repeated questioning, a single disciple rose quietly from his place.
"Sect Leader, might I ask but one thing?"
"Speak, Pungjin."
Dissatisfaction was already writ plain across the eyes of Pungjin, eldest senior disciple of the first generation.
"Our Mount Hua is a school of the sword, and at the same time a school of the Dao. I grant that her circumstances may be pitiable — but a courtesan's garb? Here, within this sacred Mount Hua? It is unthinkable. Sect Leader, it will plainly sour our disciples' training besides, and when she need only have changed her clothes, her insistence on visiting Mount Hua clad in such garments is, I believe, itself an act of contempt toward us. A debt of grace must be repaid, yes — but a guest, likewise, ought to honor the courtesy owed to her hosts."
As he finished, Cheonghyeon saw any number of disciples nodding along.
One or two of the elders, even, were nodding with them.
At the sight, Cheonghyeon's eyes grew fierce.
"Pungjin."
"Yes, Sect Leader."
"We are the Daoists here. Is that guest a Daoist?"
"Of course she is not. However—"
"Whose duty is it to keep the Dao? Ours, or hers?"
"...Ours, naturally."
"Did you say the guest's attire clouds my disciples' eyes and hinders their training?"
"I did."
"Daoists claiming their eyes are clouded — that their minds are ensnared by mere finery — do you not think that is tantamount to smearing your own faces with ink?"
"......"
"Hear me, all of you. Have we ever imposed restrictions on the dress of visitors to Mount Hua? Did our forebears do so? Who, in all our history, did?"
Naturally, no such dress code had ever existed.
No one climbing Mount Hua had the slightest wish to provoke the sect's temper, so every visitor came properly attired of their own accord.
And were some lunatic ever to appear, the disciples guarding the main gate would simply drive him off — which was precisely why no dress code had ever been needed.
Cheonghyeon knew all of this perfectly well, of course. It was a sly, contemptible little gambit — 'And where in the world would such a rule exist?'
"...Naturally there is no such restriction. But anyone who comes to visit Mount Hua ought, as a matter of course, to—"
"And one thing more."
A Sect Leader who kept cutting him off mid-sentence might well have earned his resentment, but Pungjin bowed his head without betraying a flicker of it.
"Yes."
"If those clothes are such a hindrance to training, then explain to me how the guest who wears them wields martial arts beyond yours?"
At that, Pungjin flared up before he could stop himself.
"...Sect Leader. How can you say such a thing? How could someone so utterly lowly—"
Pungjin startled even himself, snapping his mouth shut — but the word lowly had already left his lips.
"You insolent wretch!!!"
At the Sect Leader's thunderous roar, Pungjin screwed his eyes shut.
And yet Pungjin felt wronged all the same.
How could anyone compare his martial arts to those of some lowly courtesan?
True, the junior disciples who had seen the guest at the training grounds yesterday said she seemed a fair hand with a sword — but she was no match for him.
He was, after all, the eldest senior disciple of Grand Mount Hua's first generation — a man who had reached the late stage of the Peak realm.
"I beg your forgiveness. That is not what I meant to say..."
"You, who more than any soul in this world must regard all creation with clear eyes — you, my chief disciple — dare raise such drivel to your lips? Lowly, you say? Lowly in station? Or lowly in her dress?"
Before the Sect Leader's true wrath, Pungjin did not dare answer both; he bowed his head and turned his words another way.
"...Yet I cannot bring myself to believe that my skill falls short of that lady's."
"Then the thing to do is go and find out, is it not?"
At the Sect Leader's reply — if you cannot believe it, take up your sword and test it — a faint tremor ran through Pungjin's frame.
Was this not less a matter of faith in that lady than of doubt cast upon Pungjin himself?
How could the arts a lowly courtesan had picked up in passing measure against skills he had ground out through a full ten years of bitter training at Mount Hua?
Of course, Cheonghyeon had spoken nothing more than exactly what his own eyes had shown him.
"Do you mean that in earnest?"
"I am not yet so old that I would jest with you."
"...Understood."
Pungjin forced down the trembling in his body and took his seat once more, and Cheonghyeon swept a grave, weighing gaze across his disciples.
Perhaps this is for the best. Mount Hua today leans far too heavily toward the sword at the expense of the Dao. Was that not precisely why Cheongsu, declaring he had nothing to say to the other disciples, shut himself away cultivating alone?
And until yesterday, Cheonghyeon himself had been thinking along those very lines without ever realizing it.
Enveloped in the realm of Hwagyeong, swept up in the fierce satisfaction that martial power delivered, he had very nearly become a Daoist in name alone.
With their own Sect Leader in such a state, it was almost laughable that he should now scold his disciples — but before things slid any further, the scales of Dao and martial might had to be set aright at Mount Hua.
Having sorted out his thoughts, Cheonghyeon opened his mouth.
"Disciples of Mount Hua, I beg of you: do not grow drunk on petty martial might. Our guest — who, the elders excepted, surpasses every last one of you in the martial arts she carries — came to Mount Hua wishing to learn not martial arts, but the Dao. When I bade her speak her heart's desire, she asked: 'Is Mount Hua not a school of the Dao? Then I wish to learn the Dao.' That is what she said."
A stir ran through the hall.
"In any case, enough. Though it is a discourtesy to Lady Kang, I intend to request a bout of her — so all of you, to the training grounds—"
But just as Cheonghyeon moved to rise, the doors swung wide open and someone strode in without the slightest ceremony.
Clatter—
"Oh? Everyone's gathered in here? Hello!"
"...Ah. You've come, Lady Kang."
Some of the disciples frowned inwardly at Soyul's audacity — bursting unannounced through the doors of the Sect Leader's own quarters — but none dared let it show.
For the instant she had entered, the Sect Leader was already walking toward her, his face lit up in a beaming smile.
"What brings you here? I was just this moment on my way to find you."
"Ah, it's just that I don't know where Perfected One Cheongsu's quarters are. You told me to learn the Dao from him, remember?"
"Why did you not ask Myeonghwa?"
"...Ah, she's still asleep. She looked really tired."
"Ho ho. Is that so."
"But then why is everyone gathered like this?"
"Nothing of consequence. An old man gathering the young about him to lecture them — what more is there to it? Haha."
Coming from Cheonghyeon, who looked scarcely older than Soyul herself, all this talk of being an old man sat rather strangely — but he was, in truth, well past sixty.
"Then I suppose I interrupted. If you'll just point me toward Perfected One Cheongsu, I'll be on my way. Do carry on with your lecture."
At words that sounded for all the world like mockery, the expressions of the long-enduring Mount Hua disciples began to sour — but Soyul paid them no mind.
Well, whatever this was about, if you'd done wrong you took your scolding and your lumps. That was simply how the world worked.
Watching her, Cheonghyeon smiled benignly.
"My lady — before you go to Cheongsu, might I trouble you with one small request?"
"Hm? Do I have to sit in on the lecture too? Because I'd really rather not..."
"Hahaha. No, no. It is a lecture I wish to request. For my deficient disciple here."
At those words, the face of the deficient disciple in question — Pungjin, seated at the very front — flamed scarlet.