A Dog in Human Form

Nagun Peak was not a large place, so as Yeop Pung trudged back with a wooden stick he'd picked up along the way, he spotted the girl in white. She was just then walking slowly toward the entrance of the small courtyard.

"Un Cheoncheon?"

Yeop Pung stopped short, startled. After all this time, the girl before him had become impossibly, almost absurdly beautiful.

She looked as if a celestial maiden had stepped out of a painting. The white cloak she wore did nothing to hide the graceful lines of her figure; if anything, those quiet curves moved beneath the fabric like a still sea, rolling in silence. Between the folds of her collar, a throat as clean as carved jade caught the light, and above it sat the face Yeop Pung had once been unable to forget — a face so beautiful that language simply failed. Any man standing before a beauty like that would have had no choice but to look, and to marvel.

She was a beauty who could topple kingdoms, yet a cold aura clung to her the way moonlight clings to the high heavens. She stood on ordinary earth, but not a speck of the mortal world seemed to have ever touched her. A pair of clear eyes drifted as if they could find no focus — except when they settled on Yeop Pung, and then, slowly, they began to shine.

Why is she here?

Looking at the girl who seemed carved from ice and snow, Yeop Pung found the old memories rising unbidden.

Six years ago, Un Cheoncheon had barely set foot in the Cheonun Sect before she took her place as a goddess in the heart of every boy there. Her nature, however, was so cold and so distant that no one could get near her. Yeop Pung had been a hot-blooded youth in those days. Goaded past endurance by his friends, he had confessed to her in public.

She had not even broken stride. She had walked right past him, and the whole affair had become a sensation — and a joke.

Not long after, the shameless Beom Undae had tried to force himself on her, and Yeop Pung had caught him in the act. No evidence had remained. Then, at the outer sect tournament that followed, Yeop Pung had broken the legs of Beom Undae and his pack, and five years of festering enmity had begun.

Through all the years Yeop Pung had been confined to the Herb Garden, Un Cheoncheon — who owed him a debt of gratitude — had never once come to see him. That had hurt. At first he had been angry, then simply miserable; but five years is a long time, and those feelings had long since faded to a dull smear.

She had always been that cold. What gratitude could he possibly expect from a girl icy enough to freeze a man to death? Wanting that from her had been ridiculous from the start.

And yet here they were, looking at each other.

Her eyes, especially, were beautiful. That pale green she had been born with was as clear and transparent as a lake after rain, and the two of them seemed to catch a person's soul the way a mirror catches a face. She watched him in silence. No one could have said what feeling, if any, moved beneath that still expression. Her gaze traveled the length of him and came to rest, at last, on the large wooden stick in his hand.

"Hm?"

Yeop Pung noticed. He twitched the corner of his mouth in an awkward half-smile, gave the stick a few brisk swings through the air, and laughed.

"Haha. Beautiful day, isn't it? Perfect weather for training. Cheoncheon — want to come in for a cup of tea?"

At the name ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Cheoncheon, her lovely brow furrowed on instinct — but she did not refuse. In all of the Cheonun Sect, Yeop Pung was likely the only person who could call her that.

She came toward him with light, unhurried steps, and for a moment it seemed she had accepted the invitation. Yeop Pung started forward to meet her, a greeting already forming on his tongue — and she walked straight past him, without so much as a glance.

"Disciple Un Cheoncheon, under orders from Peak Master Yeom, has come to pay her respects to the Peak Master of Nagun Peak."

This again? Do I have to relive yesterday all over again?

Yeop Pung gave a bitter little smile and shook his head. Her personality, it seemed, had not changed in the slightest.

"Woof?"

Inside the courtyard, Bone — who had been waiting for Yeop Pung to come back with the stick — took one look at Un Cheoncheon and his eyes lit up.

Fwoosh!

The creature gave his whole body a violent shake, and every speck of dust from days of not bathing exploded into the air. His coat came up gleaming, a dazzling, polished gold. He looked like someone who had just been buffed to a shine — or rather, like a dog who had. Chest thrown out, he stood there in all his magnificence, and even his tail began to wag.

Wait. No.

Yeop Pung had never, in his life, seen Bone wag his tail.

So the thing wasn't broken after all!

"Hahahaha!"

At the same moment, Maeng Chang-haeng's booming laugh rolled out of the room.

"I'd heard a young genius had appeared under Junior Sister Yeom — and seeing her today, she certainly doesn't disappoint!"

The door creaked open, and out stepped Old Man Maeng, arranging ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠himself into a figure of considerable gravitas.

Yeop Pung stared.

What in the world?

Maeng Chang-haeng had produced a fresh daoist robe from somewhere and put it on. His tangled hair had been combed into order; even his beard had been shaved clean. A refined smile sat on his face, and the dignity radiating from him was such that he might as well have been the Cheonun Sect Master himself.

Yeop Pung had no words.

Now that — that is a real dog in human form.

A considerable shock landed in his small heart. So it wasn't that this man and this dog disliked grooming. They simply decided how to present themselves based on who they were about to meet.

"This disciple greets the Peak Master."

Un Cheoncheon, of course, had no idea what either of them had looked like a moment ago. She offered Maeng Chang-haeng a respectful bow.

"Heh heh. Rise, child."

The sight of Maeng Chang-haeng like this made Yeop Pung's stomach turn.

"To think the Cheonun Sect has a young hero such as yourself — This Master's heart is truly gladdened. And what business has your master sent you on?"

Even the way he talks has changed. 'This Master'? This is the same man who calls himself 'this old man' every other sentence.

Yeop Pung had believed he knew Old Man Maeng well enough. Today, the hypocritical old fox had rewritten that understanding all over again.

"Peak Master, this disciple has come to convey her master's regards. In addition, I am to request that Disciple Yeop Pung of your peak be invited to the Gangun Moon Viewing Banquet, which my master will host in three days' time. I humbly ask the Peak Master's leave."

"Oh? Is the Mid-Autumn Festival upon us already?"

Maeng Chang-haeng stroked his beard as if he had known all along.

"Heh heh. Go back and tell Junior Sister that Yeop Pung will attend on time."

"Understood. This disciple takes her leave."

Un ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Cheoncheon bent at the waist in another light bow. Then, without so much as a glance at Yeop Pung, she crossed the courtyard and stepped outside. Behind her, the white cloak flashed — wrapped her from head to foot — and became a ribbon of white rainbow. She rose into the distant sky.

"Well now?"

Maeng Chang-haeng's eyes went wide the instant he saw it.

"That girl can already wield the White Cloud Ribbon at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠will, at her age? What terrifying talent!"

Hold on. Hold on a second. Yeop Pung's eyes bulged in disbelief.

She hadn't even been gone a minute, and he was already showing his true colors?

Beside him, Bone let out a groan and collapsed in a heap, as if the strength had gone out of every bone in his body.

Ahh… keeping my chest puffed out is exhausting.

Yeop Pung sent Bone the same look of pure incredulity.

Bang!

Old Man Maeng's door slammed shut. A moment later the filthy elder reappeared, wine jug in hand as always. He took a long pull, then grinned at Yeop Pung.

"Heh heh. Congrats, kid. You're one of the elites among the Cheonun Sect's third-generation disciples now."

"What?"

Yeop Pung had a rough idea of what Maeng Chang-haeng meant.

"Martial Grand-Uncle — you mean the Gangun Moon Viewing Banquet?"

"Go fetch this old man's lamb trotters first. I'll explain properly."

"Lamb trotters in the middle of the day? Don't you care about the smell?"

"When I tell you to do something, you do it! Spare me the backtalk!"

Maeng Chang-haeng's eyes bulged. Yeop Pung went, swallowing his complaints.

Damn it. If you're going to be that shameless, you should've been gnawing on those trotters right in front of Un Cheoncheon!

Yeop Pung laid out the drinking snacks. Maeng Chang-haeng talked as he ate and drank, explaining the Gangun Moon Viewing Banquet.

Put simply, it was a Mid-Autumn reward feast the Cheonun Sect held for its third-generation elites — and a gathering where the finest disciples of each peak could exchange pointers and spar. Only the most outstanding among the third generation earned the right to raise a cup beneath the moon on Gangun Peak, and to taste food that the gentle, wise Peak Master Yeom had prepared with her own hands.

The old Yeop Pung had never even heard that the Cheonun Sect held such an event. But as the champion of this year's Autumn Hunt, he naturally had every right to drink alongside the sect's true young heroes.

In the Cheonun Sect, an inner disciple who reached the Spirit Sea before the age of thirty qualified to become an elder. Talent of that order, however, was merely ordinary. Those invited to this banquet were all third-generation disciples who had reached the 6th Profound Meridian before the age of twenty-five. They were the genuine geniuses of the young generation, and the future of the Cheonun Sect rested on their shoulders.

As he listened, a few familiar names rose in Yeop Pung's mind. When he had first entered the sect, there had been outstanding talents a few years his senior — Senior Brother Hwa Cheonpung, Senior Brother Ma Ok, and Senior Sister So So-un, who had once guided him. Every one of them had ranked inside the top twenty of an Autumn Hunt.

And of course the banquet would not be missing the two greatest geniuses the Cheonun Sect had produced in recent decades: Un Cheoncheon, whose pure beauty was unmatched in this generation, and Yi Hwawu, whose talent and skill could blot out the sky.

Yeop Pung remembered the cold-faced boy who had once trailed after him, determined to surpass him at everything. In the blink of an eye eight years had passed, and Yi Hwawu had already flown far, far ahead.

But Yeop Pung was fine with that. He had changed the way he thought about it. Yi Hwawu might be basking in boundless glory throughout the Cheonun Sect — but hadn't he only placed fifth in last year's Hunt? Yeop Pung turned that fact over and over, chewing on it with no small satisfaction. He was the champion.

"Kid. What are you thinking so hard about?"

A sharp rap landed on his skull and jolted him out of his thoughts. Maeng Chang-haeng was watching him from across the table, a sneer on his face.

"Don't sit there grinning like an idiot. That young lady didn't properly look at you from start to finish. What did I tell you? You're hopeless."

Yeop Pung ignored the needling and asked again.

"Martial Grand-Uncle — so is there more to this banquet than eating and drinking?"

"Of course there is."

A gleam lit Maeng Chang-haeng's eyes.

"Every year, Junior Sister comes up with some clever idea and has the disciples at the banquet compete. Don't worry, though — it isn't a dangerous contest. With your skill you won't stand out much, but at the very least, don't embarrass me."

Hah. The Hunt champion won't stand out?

Yeop Pung stuck out his lip, but he knew perfectly well where his actual strength stood. Without using the Myriad Realms Wrist Ring, he was no match for a 6th Profound Meridian opponent, so he had already planned to keep his head down at the banquet. Still — since he was going anyway, and Yi Hwawu would be there — he found himself turning over how not to lose too much face.

"Martial Grand-Uncle, put the food down and take a look at my Falling Star Sword Technique. There are still a few parts that don't sit right."

"Heh. Right. Want to look good in front of the girls, don't you? Hahaha! Fine! I'll show you a thing or two today."

Maeng Chang-haeng laughed that booming laugh of his, and the two of them went off to polish the sword.

But beyond the two of them, most of the Cheonun Sect had no idea that this year's Mid-Autumn night would mean far more to the sect than a simple banquet.