Back to Mount Heng (1)

Yeon Hwa clutched Zhuge Yang's hand in a white-knuckled grip. Zhuge Yang's face had already gone pale, every trace of color drained from it, and her breathing was growing fainter by the moment.

'She can't die like this...!' Despair and fear welled up in Yeon Hwa's eyes until they brimmed over.

"Young Miss... please... please open your eyes..."

Sensing that Zhuge Yang's final breath was drawing near, Yeon Hwa could no longer hold back her tears. A hot wail burst from the very depths of her chest.

And then—

Footsteps came pounding from far off. With a rusty creak of her stiff neck, she turned to look, and there was Ma Won charging toward them through the dust, utterly winded.

"Ma Won! The Young Miss—!!"

His face was plastered with sweat, and his eyes held nothing but desperation.

"Zhuge Yang!!"

Ma Won called her name, but she gave no response. His face went chalk-white at the sight. Without a moment's hesitation, he snatched up the thing in his hand and began to chew.

'Don't tell me...?'

Before she knew it, Yeon Hwa was staring in shock at the sight of Ma Won pressing his lips to Zhuge Yang's.

"You found it?! Is that the Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng?!"

Ma Won gave no answer, but Yeon Hwa could feel it—the cold, motionless hand she had been gripping so tightly gave the faintest twitch.

And so, at the very last moment, Zhuge Yang came back from the brink, as if by a miracle.

"Waaahhh! Won!"

"It's okay, it's okay. Everything's all right now."

I patted her back in slow, soothing strokes as Zhuge Yang buried her face against my chest and sobbed her heart out. Around the time the front of my shirt had soaked through completely, she finally seemed to have calmed, and she pulled her face away.

It had been nearly two years since I'd last seen her, and her eyes were swollen and puffy.

Even that was maddeningly lovely.

"Won... thank you... thank you so much. If it weren't for you, I don't think I'd ever have drawn breath again..."

"I promised I'd save you, didn't I? Thank you too... for not giving up, for waiting for me."

I meant every word. Heaven's grace had delivered the Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng into my hands, but through every day and night of the mad dash back, one thought had refused to leave my head—that I might already be too late.

"So how did you get the Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng?"

Zhuge Yang and Yeon Hwa were both staring at me with eyes so wide and sparkling it was almost overwhelming.

"I was living the hermit's life on Mount Heng, and by heaven's grace, I found one."

I had dressed up the story of how I'd found a Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng into the tale of a Ten-Thousand-Year one.

"That's incredible! I never could have done something like that!"

Zhuge Yang seized my hand, the very picture of being moved. The moment her small, soft fingers wrapped around mine, my chest went warm and tingly.

I might not have known what that feeling was before, but now I knew it beyond any doubt.

I had thought myself content just to see the woman I loved granted a second chance at life—but holding her hand in this moment, I felt I could die with no regrets at all.

That was how happy I was.

"Ahem, ahem. I expect you're hungry. I shall prepare a meal."

I was basking in the warmth of Zhuge Yang's hand when Yeon Hwa cut in.

"Yes, please, Sis!"

"Ah, I'll help as well."

I moved to stand, but Zhuge Yang tugged me back down by the hand.

"Won! You look absolutely exhausted—rest!"

"Rest. I will see to it. And... truly, I shudder to think what would have become of us without you... I am sincerely grateful, Ma Won."

Yeon Hwa spoke ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to me with eyes gone warm. In the three years I had known her, it was the first time I'd ever been on the receiving end of that look.

Yeon Hwa returned with the meal. Perhaps with the patient in mind, it was piping-hot porridge served alongside somen—thin wheat noodles, the kind eaten on birthdays.

Here, people didn't celebrate birthdays with seaweed soup the way I remembered; instead they enjoyed the noodles as "longevity noodles," a dish meant to wish for a long life.

Come to think of it, today was our birthday. In all the upheaval, it had slipped my mind entirely.

"Happy birthday, Yang."

"Thank you. Happy birthday to you too, Won."

Two years ago, because I didn't even know my own birthday for certain, Zhuge Yang had proposed we celebrate it on the same day as hers.

I hoped that from here on, nothing but good things would fill the days ahead for her, and for me.

I turned that miraculous moment over in my mind once more—the moment I had found the Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng.

Having unearthed only a Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng on Mount Heng, I'd had no choice but to turn my steps back toward Longzhong, telling myself that even this much might help extend Zhuge Yang's life. Any more delay, I'd feared, and I wouldn't even get the chance to feed her that.

Numb with helplessness, I had glanced up on a whim—and the sky was far, far too clear. It was perhaps only natural that I poured my pent-up rage into that blue, oblivious sky, which knew nothing of what I felt.

"Why did you send me to this place, just to make me suffer like this?!"

I resented the heavens. If I had simply met my end quietly in the modern world, I would never have had to endure the torment of watching her die.

Having cursed the sky to my heart's content, I turned the arrow of blame on myself next. Because some part of me suspected that her suffering had begun the day I fell into this world.

"What was even the point of collecting every last treasure in that stupid game, playing like a brat right up to my final breath?! If only I'd at least used the Treasure Locator—"

...Huh?

Why is this...?

Am I seeing things...?

"The Treasure Locator...?"

"No way! The Treasure Locator!"

Unless the shock had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠finally driven me out of my mind, I might just be able to save Zhuge Yang.

All this time, I had believed I'd been dropped into this world with nothing but my bare body. Three whole years I had lived that way...

At any other time, I might have railed at the injustice of only now discovering the ability—but right now, all I felt was gratitude.

The Treasure Locator—the very tool I had once used to hunt for treasure—was floating right there before my eyes.

Could it be connected to that final message from my old life, the one my dimming eyes had blurred beyond reading?

'This is no time to be daydreaming!'

I shook myself. What mattered now was not idle musing. Making ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sense of things could come later.

In the modern world I would have used a keyboard and mouse, but no such things existed here. I fixed my eyes on the Treasure Locator and thought, as hard as I could: I want to find the Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng.

...Nothing happened.

Then what?

"Search! Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng!"

The Treasure Locator's screen rippled in answer to my voice, tiny motes of light glittering as the results came scrolling into view, one after another.

My heart began to hammer. No fewer than eight Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ginsengs, scattered across the Central Plains.

Their treasure value sat at around 90; the ginsengs ranged from roughly 87 to 91, the difference, I suspected, lying in their potency.

With 100 as the ceiling of the scale, that made them top-grade treasures—no, top-grade elixirs.

"Yes! There's no way a land this vast doesn't have Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ginsengs!"

Now the only variable was time.

If even one of them was located nearby... I could save her!

I examined the location of the nearest ginseng.

"No!"

It wasn't that the Treasure Locator was simply pointing at Mount Heng—it was displaying a far more detailed position, precise enough that following it alone would have led me straight to the thing.

But more than twenty days had already passed since I'd turned my back on Mount Heng for Longzhong. There was nowhere near enough time to go back and dig it up. Even with the location laid bare before me, making it in time looked impossible.

So ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠where was the next closest? Please, let it be nearby.

Most of the names meant nothing to me. But there was exactly one I recognized—the second nearest of all, and the only one I might actually reach in time!

Mount Wudang was one of the several candidate mountains Yeon Hwa and I had once discussed—a ten-day round trip from Longzhong.

I set out for Mount Wudang. There I formed one fateful connection, and with that man's help, I succeeded in getting the Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng into Zhuge Yang before time ran out.

I had drifted off in my exhaustion after the meal Yeon Hwa made when a voice called me from outside the door.

"Won! Won!"

It was Zhuge Yang.

What was going on?

I opened the door and stepped out into the dead of night, a full moon riding high overhead. Beneath it stood Zhuge Yang, dressed as though for a long journey, a wrapped bundle in her hands—like someone about to leave everything behind.

Ah... right. Of course.

I grasped the situation in an instant. We had to leave. Her fifteenth birthday had now passed, which meant the Zhuge Family would send someone at least once to confirm her death. They could come as soon as tomorrow.

And if they learned she had recovered, they would try to bind her to the family. Because she was, from now on... a Pure Yin Extreme Body.

"We have to go!"

"I'll get our things!"

A short while later, Yeon Hwa rejoined us. She had probably needed to doctor the scene somehow—cover our tracks, tidy up the loose ends.

"So where do we go?"

"Anywhere we can hide, for a start. Got any bright ideas, Won?"

"I don't know any—ah! Let's go to Mount Heng!"

"Huh? Mount Heng?"

Mount Heng had a Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng.

My Treasure Locator had one frustrating quirk: unless I knew a treasure's exact name, there was simply no way to search for it. It would have been far more convenient if it could list every treasure in existence, but the only operation I had managed to discover was the single keyword "Search."

Search for "the most valuable fist technique," and I would get nothing at all. But Hundred-Step Divine Fist? That would return a hit. It sat in the Shaolin Temple on Mount Song. Naturally.

"Yeah. There's a place I know."

Yeon Hwa and Zhuge Yang knew only, vaguely, that they had to flee—and since neither of them, born and raised in Hengnan, had any destination she absolutely had to reach, my suggestion was accepted. I was, after all, the only one in our little band who had ever lived away from home.

Hm. So how had I ended up leading the way?

"Won... you must have been through so much..."

"No, really, it wasn't hard at all!"

For all my bravado, the road to Mount Heng was anything but easy. The trails were treacherous, and there was stretch after stretch where sleeping out under the stars was simply unavoidable.

"We'll have to camp here for the night."

"Make ready!"

"I'll help as well."

"...Stay with the Young Miss."

Yeon Hwa had taken charge of every menial task of her own accord—ever since the moment I saved Zhuge Yang's life. It told me everything about how loyal she was to Zhuge Yang, and how deep her gratitude toward me ran.

After supper, Yeon Hwa stood guard while Zhuge Yang circulated her cultivation method, absorbing the energy of the Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng.

I had known all along that this was a world of martial arts—but now that the desperate race to save Zhuge Yang was over, the hunger for the martial arts that I had shoved into a corner of my heart began, quietly, to bloom.