The Wudang Taoist (1)
Romance between a man and a woman is a truly difficult thing.
Or, more precisely, I suppose it's understanding the other person's heart that's so hard. If only there were a martial art like the Art of Heart Observation that could see straight through to what someone was really thinking.
I hadn't read every martial arts novel ever written, but in everything I had read, I'd never once heard of such an art. Then again, maybe it would be meaningless to a Grand Master of the caliber who could found it in the first place — someone like that probably wouldn't need to read minds.
Zhuge Yang always smiled whenever she looked at me, but I couldn't be certain her heart was truly pointed my way. She clearly seemed fond of me, you could say — yet somehow she never quite gave me the decisive opening I was waiting for.
We'd been close since we were children, so part of me wondered whether I was simply mistaking ordinary familiarity for something more. But then she would blush and still never shy away from the occasional small touch, and I'd find myself thrown right back into confusion.
If this were a blind date back in my old world, I would have confessed my feelings without hesitation. I couldn't afford to leave regrets behind.
But now, I had no desire to confess for nothing and be left with the regret of things turning awkward between us.
Just being together like this was more than enough. She had already promised to help me build the greatest family under heaven — we had all the time in the world.
"It's a shame Sister Hwa couldn't come along, but traveling like this, just the two of us, is really nice too, isn't it?"
Zhuge Yang asked with a smile that looked utterly happy — not the least bit regretful, despite her words. The kind of smile that brightened anyone who saw it.
"Yeon Hwa has stuck close ever since that dangerous business with the wolf pack, that's true."
Since my Physical Rebirth, there had been no reason for us to go our separate ways, so this was actually the first time Zhuge Yang and I were out traveling alone together like this. We'd set out with plenty of time to spare, so we had ample leeway before the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament.
"Wow! Purple!"
Zhuge Yang pointed at nameless purple wildflowers blooming along the roadside. Then she scampered over, plopped down among them, and drank in their scent.
Even as a Super-Peak master, Zhuge Yang still loved flowers, insects, and animals. She couldn't so much as glimpse a squirrel without cooing over how cute it was.
She probably didn't mean to startle them, but more than a few squirrels had found themselves captured by a human girl, treated to the soft touch of her hands on their heads and cheeks, and then released. Today's victims were merely flowers.
Watching her like this, she looked exactly like an innocent country girl who'd grown up in the countryside — oddly at odds with her dazzling beauty.
"It smells wonderful too! Won, come smell them!"
Zhuge Yang's requests were impossible to refuse. I sat down beside her and breathed in the flowers' fragrance. Perhaps because my sense of smell was so sharp, I could even pick out a fresh, sweet note mixed in.
Bzzz—
When a honeybee came winging in a moment later, I decided the sweet scent hadn't been my imagination after all.
"Smells great. Do you like purple flowers?"
"When I was little, there were lots of purple flowers in our garden."
"...Back at your family's estate?"
"Yeah... My mother loved purple flowers."
Her mother. That's right — she was from the Seo Family.
From everything I'd heard during our time together, Zhuge Yang hadn't exactly grown up unloved. A child raised without love could never have become a girl this lovable. So I supposed that was why she missed her mother like this, now and then.
Why would Zhuge Yang's mother have consented to a decision that spared only one of her two lovely daughters? I still had no way of knowing.
"Purple, huh... It's pretty. I think I'm starting to like purple myself..."
I'd never really had a favorite color, but when the woman I love loves something, that makes it mine too.
Zhuge Yang picked one of the flowers and tucked it into her own hair.
"How do I look?"
The purple flower suited her silver hair beautifully. Honestly, she was gorgeous. Not the flower — her, beaming with it in her hair.
I stared at the sight, spellbound, before finally managing to open my mouth.
"Y-you're beautiful..."
For some reason I stammered, my face flushing hot. I could feel it going red. She'd been holding her head high as if to show off her hair, but at my words she suddenly ducked it down.
I'd only said what I honestly thought. Was that too much for her? A little time passed. Silence, I suppose you'd call it?
The awkward stillness broke soon enough when Zhuge Yang changed the subject.
"Oh! Right. Speaking of purple, that reminds me — I heard a strange rumor a while back."
"A rumor?"
"Mm. That the Mount Hua Sect lost their Purple Cloud Divine Art."
"The Purple Cloud Divine Art?"
If I remembered right, the Purple Cloud Divine Art was a martial art passed down only to the sect leaders of Mount Hua, and those who mastered it had qi that appeared purple when manifested. They said it was a supreme art worthy of the name "Divine Art" — and they'd lost it?
"Mount Hua's leaders used to always be named among the Ten Great Masters Under Heaven. But at some point, it's been a long while since they produced a Transformative Realm master."
"So people figure they must have lost the Purple Cloud Divine Art?"
"Yeah. It's only a rumor, but supposedly no one has ever seen it performed."
"Strange. Wouldn't it be smarter to keep several transcriptions of such an important art?"
"Because plenty of arts have been lost precisely because too many copies were made."
She had a point. Come to think of it, the Heavenly Demon Divine Art had existed in only two places as far as I knew — one in what was presumed to be the Demonic Cult's territory, and one with me. Even if it couldn't be mastered without the Extreme Demonic Body, keeping it to a single copy seemed designed to avoid the risk of it being lost and its weaknesses exposed.
"It's not in the Record of Practical Martial Arts."
"Hmm... Well, if the Purple Cloud Divine Art were listed in there, the book's author might get hauled off to Mount Hua?"
"No way."
"Ahahahaha! Yeah, you're probably right!"
We walked on at a leisurely pace, chatting away. No heavy topics — just rumors drifting around the murim and light small talk.
As we walked and talked, I suddenly found myself noticing the luggage Zhuge Yang was carrying. What three of us had shared with Yeon Hwa was now split between two, so each of us was shouldering far more. Zhuge Yang had a large bundle in her hands, and I had a pack strapped to my back like a traveling peddler.
Today, Zhuge Yang's wrists looked impossibly slender. Weren't those pretty wrists of hers straining under the weight?
"Should we rent a carriage?"
It was a perfectly reasonable suggestion. Unless we planned to dash all the way to Mount Song on lightfoot technique, a carriage beat walking by a wide margin. Besides, if we were going to rent one, the large town just ahead was the place to do it.
Zhuge Yang, whom I'd expected to agree without a second thought, hesitated slightly.
"A carriage? But this is nice as it is..."
Right — Zhuge Yang loved walking with nature for company.
"It's the luggage, that's all. We can always stop the carriage now and then and do our sightseeing along the way, can't we?"
At that, Zhuge Yang's gaze flicked quickly over my back.
"Oh! I like that idea."
I'd brought it up because her load was worrying me, but either way, objective achieved. She doesn't think I'm the weak one here... right?
"Won! Renting a carriage was such a great call!"
"Right?"
The driver we'd hired at considerable expense was at the reins of a two-horse carriage. Rain was falling in a steady drizzle outside, but inside the carriage was cozy.
"Right! Camping out in weather like this would've been miserable."
We could stow the luggage neatly off to one side, and though the rough road made for a bumpy ride, we were moving two or three times faster than on foot. And it kept the rain off us, too.
Zhuge Yang reached her hand out the window and caught the falling drops.
"I don't mind walking in a drizzle like this, but sleeping out in it is another story."
Weird. I could've sworn she used to hate getting rained on. I filed that away as the most up-to-date information. Tastes can change, after all.
We spent the day in the carriage like that, and by the evening of the next day we reached a village lying between Longzhong and Mount Wudang. It was a fairly sizable village, complete with its own inn.
"Then I shall see you both here tomorrow morning."
"Very well."
After arranging to meet the driver, we tucked the luggage safely away in the room we'd taken on the inn's second floor. Even though we'd sent some of it ahead with Yeon Hwa, if word ever got out about what Zhuge Yang and I were carrying, it might well blow a wind of blood through the murim.
It was dinnertime, so we made sure everything was locked up tight before heading downstairs. The moment we came down, I walked in on some man pestering Zhuge Yang.
Zhuge Yang loved the time she got to spend alone with Ma Won.
She felt guilty toward Yeon Hwa, who had always been by her side, but when the chance came to part from her for a while, the flutter in her heart at being alone with Ma Won was even bigger. Thanks to that, they'd been able to share small but delightful moments, and she hoped the journey to the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament would hold more of the same.
It was like something out of a dream.
When Ma Won had first suggested renting a carriage, she'd even caught herself shrinking from the idea — somehow, it felt as if the journey would end too soon. Of course, they'd stopped the carriage now and then along the way to enjoy lovely moments together, so she'd decided she was glad she'd listened to him.
"Gimme a sec — I'm just going up to put the luggage away."
"Okay. I'll get the ordering started."
Zhuge Yang was fond of White Cut Chicken. It was a dish of chicken boiled, then thinly sliced and dipped in soy sauce or seasoning — simple, delicate fare.
While Ma Won went upstairs to stow their things, she took a seat and ordered their food from the waiter with practiced ease.
"One White Cut Chicken and one Dongpo pork, please."
"Um, miss? Our portions here are quite generous. For two people, that may be more than you can finish."
Then it would just go to waste. Oh well.
"Ah... then one Dongpo pork and one order of dumplings, please."
"Right away, miss!"
It was the dinner hour, and business was clearly good — the inn filled with people in no time. Before she knew it, there wasn't a single empty table left. Just then, a young man with a gentle, sunny face entered. An emblem on his sleeve, a tassel hanging from the sword at his waist — a Taoist of the Wudang Sect.
Zhuge Yang turned her head slightly away. She was wearing a veil, but she preferred to avoid any situation she couldn't predict. Of course, that wish went ungranted.
"Mind if I share your table?"
Zhuge Yang looked up at him steadily.
"As you can see, there's no place else to sit."
True to the grinning Wudang Taoist's words, every table was indeed full. Why he'd chosen her table — a woman sitting alone — instead of one where two men sat, she couldn't fathom.
"...Very well, then."
With no real grounds to refuse, she reluctantly agreed.
She'd wanted to eat with Won, just the two of them. At the very least, she hoped he wouldn't be a bother. That hope, too, went ungranted — because the moment the Taoist placed his own order for White Cut Chicken, he unleashed a torrent of chatter at Zhuge Yang.
"Miss, what a lovely voice you have. And carrying a sword, you must be of the murim — from which sect, might I ask? Ah, if it's a secret, you needn't tell me. But tell me, do you truly mean to keep that veil on through your meal? You'll have to take it off to eat anyway — why not simply take it off now?"
Zhuge Yang had never in her life dealt with someone who talked this much. The rat-a-tat barrage of words left her mind reeling.
"Ah... I miss Won."