Nothing Much Happens in the Refugee Autonomous District! (3)
Clink-clack.
Beep-beep-beep.
Hm? What's that noise?
“Yawwwn~”
CRASH! Clatter-clatter.
What is all this? Why are there swords and all sorts of trinkets scattered all over the floor?
I was pretty sure I'd spent the evening drinking happily with that young man I met at the market. When did I come back up here and fall asleep?
“Eh, whatever. Must've had a few too many and stumbled up here.”
If something had happened, there'd be someone in bed next to me, right? And my clothes still had yesterday's spilled booze all over them.
“Huh? Did I spill that much?”
The fabric looked like it had been dyed a whole new color. Whoa. Even my underclothes were stained yellow. Something about this felt off.
Well, I'd just change before heading out. I had plenty of fresh clothes. But wait—what's with this sword?
I'd have to sell it if I passed a blacksmith on my way through town.
“Oh!!! She's come down!”
“She really isn't human!”
“And isn't she just gorgeous!”
The moment I stepped out of my room, the locals fawned over me like they knew me personally. Hm. What exactly happened last night?
“Oho! Miss Jusin has graced us this morning! Shall I fix you some breakfast?”
“Yes, please. Something simple.”
“Eat up, Miss. It's free of charge.”
Apparently something good had happened to him—since when did an innkeeper refuse payment?
“Something easy to eat is fine~”
After a short wait, he came back with something in hand.
Hm? A noodle dish? Perfect for a light meal! The food of this era has nothing harsh or overspiced about it—so clean and delicate. Not bad at all!
“Well then, I'll be off~ Good luck with business!”
“Thank you, Miss!”
Hm? The innkeeper was thanking me? Well, being thanked is never a bad thing. Hope your business booms~
Anyway, the market was nothing but food stalls and trinket sellers as far as the eye could see.
After a long stretch of walking, I finally spotted a blacksmith's. Let's see what they're making!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The man was hammering away at something—so they did have forging skills here?
Whoosh, whoosh.
The blacksmith worked the bellows furiously, heating the metal before hammering it.
It was glowing red-hot, so I couldn't tell if it was bronze or iron. Still, the wall did hold what looked like iron farming tools.
“Whew...”
Oh. Looks like he's finished.
Ssssizzle—FOOM.
Whoa?! That wasn't water?! The flames leapt sky-high.
“Hm? What brings someone like you to a place like this, Miss?”
“Just watching. It's fascinating.”
“A strange one, you are. This is hardly a jewelry workshop.”
There were smiths who worked gold and silver, sure, but the atmosphere there was completely different from this place.
“Just curious—what are you making?”
“Making? Nothing much. Just repairing what people bring me.”
“You don't work with iron, then?”
That hoe and that mattock over there were iron as far as I could see.
“Not mine. People bring finished pieces to sell. Folks bring me things that snapped from use, and I weld them back together or make something else.”
No wonder I hadn't seen a smelting furnace. He didn't melt anything down himself.
“Really? Those came from Daehan?”
“Yep. Their stuff is good. The Zhou bring a bit of their own now and then, but it's terrible quality. Might as well stick with bronze.”
So Zhou was dabbling in iron too. Well, they'd have no choice eventually. Wasn't the difference in available ore something like a thousand to one?
Oh! Right, I had things to sell.
Clunk. Thud.
Out of sight of the crowd, I emptied the things I'd picked up this morning out of my pouch.
“Would you buy things like these?”
“Hm? Where on earth did you get all this so fast?”
“That's a secret~”
Tsk tsk. Trying to pry into a lady's secrets? That's how disasters happen, you know.
“Let's see... Good grief! These are no lightweight things, are they? Hm? Aren't these weapons? Hardly the sort of thing you see around here?”
“Are they?”
Farming tools were easy to come by, but apparently not weapons.
“Whoever it was—pounding bronze into weapons like this—they must have robbed some rich household!”
“Nope~”
“Some rich man's daughter must've brought these out of the house with her. Never mind that—I'll buy them and look the other way.”
Hm? Fascinating! Generation after generation, for hundreds of years, everyone just assumed I was some wealthy family's daughter?
My clothes were perfectly ordinary. Was it my pale skin? There was really no fixing that...
“Shall I pay you in cowrie shells or in coin?”
“Cowrie shells, please.”
By coin he'd mean Daehan currency, right? That would be way too much.
“Hmm...”
“Is something wrong?”
“It'd be far too much in shells. I'll pay in coin.”
“Yes, please do.”
He disappeared inside and came back with a few crumpled bills.
“Here. Carry these carefully. Thieves have been eyeing folk lately.”
“I will! Thank you!”
The blacksmith clearly stashed his own money somewhere too—the bills were absolutely filthy.
I'd look around a little longer, then head home. At least now I knew iron implements were slowly circulating in China as well.
“Boss! That's the woman!”
“Oh! Yes! That's her!”
Good grief. Whose wife or daughter did they think had robbed them, to be screaming like that in broad daylight?
Hm. Now what is this? Street food existed in this era too!
“Sir, what's this?”
“Ah, that there's rat meat.”
Gasp!
Good heavens. Eat that, and who knows what kind of parasites would come crawling through my insides. Terrifying.
“Then what's the stuff next to it?”
“Haha. Rat's hard to come by for a fine young lady like you. This here's pheasant—bird meat. It's quite good, actually.”
“Yes! One, please!”
Om-nom-nom.
Oh? What is this? What is this? Meat this springy and chewy! With the right seasoning, this would be a revolution!
Smack.
“That's the woman, I tell you!?”
Gasp! My meat! It fell and went rolling across the dirt...
“Ah! What's wrong with you!?”
“That's her! It's her, I swear!”
“No! Who even are you people?”
These lumps of meat had the gall to poke the whiskers of a weasel just minding its own business? Do they not know how foul-tempered a wild weasel is?
“Didn't you get us drunk yesterday and then rob us blind?!”
“Huh? What are you talking about?”
Drinking this early in the day, are we? Last I remember, I was playing with that dandy from the martial arts hall. Hmm...? How did that night end again?
“Our weapons and money! Our trophies! Where are they? Hand them over, now!”
“Weapons? Trophies?”
There were a whole pile of things scattered on my bed this morning, but how would I know which ones were yours?
Aha! Now I see it. They saw me selling things and swarmed like the bandits they are!
“Hey! You've got the wrong person! Why don't you buy a skewer and be on your way?”
“You wench! Time someone taught you some manners!”
“Ha. What a deafening voice.”
The cure for a noisy dog? A hawk's talons.
“Sir, may I borrow that stick?”
“S-sure, go ahead.”
It was one of the skewer man's kindling sticks—thick as two fingers? Wow, being raw green wood, it wouldn't snap easily, and it wrapped nicely around my hand, tick by tick.
“Boys! Your big sister just told you to leave quietly, didn't she?”
“She's lost her mind! Boys, grab her! Her face and figure aren't half bad—we'll drag her off and settle old scores all together!”
Excuse me? Settle what, all together? Are they insane?
“Let's do this nicely!”
“Yeah! Nicely!”
THWACK. THWACK. THWACK.
“Gahk—ack! Stop!”
I channeled just a whisper of telekinesis through the stick and sent them off nicely—one to the legs, one to the ribs, one to the head. The classic three-point farewell.
What is wrong with this idiot? Is he actually drunk? He did seem to register my stick, reaching for it, but every grab whiffed through empty air.
“Ha... Boys? Your big sister doesn't usually hit people, but today, let's just take the beating.”
“What are you waiting for! Get her, all at once!”
Smack, smack, THWACK.
The boys charged at me in a perfectly straight line—how honest of them? I just extended my hand, parried twice, and cracked their heads together.
“Kgh! The wench is quicker than she looks!”
Tap-tap.
You're the slow ones here? I'm backing up while you're lunging forward—how are you failing to catch up with me?
“Oho... the young lady's quite something!”
“Our market thugs getting worked over like that!”
“So satisfying to watch!”
Just how much had these goons tormented the market folk, that not a single encouraging word came out for them?
Shall we get serious?
WHAM. CRACK. THUD.
...
...
It didn't take long at all. They'd spent their lives throwing their weight around against weak people, so their durability was pathetic.
“Whew... Moving the body really does clear the head.”
“Uuuugh...”
“Sob... It hurts so much...”
Seriously? That much and they're blubbering? My kids complain they only feel it when I use my fists—these lot are spineless wimps.
“See? You've got to move your body.”
“...?”
“...”
“...Pardon?”
Not a great answer, boys.
BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM.
Then you get more! I knocked one friendly thump on each of their heads.
“Arghhh...”
“We're sorry!”
“Spare our lives!”
“This doesn't KILL you, you know! Full-grown men, bawling your eyes out! Can you not keep it down!?”
What to do with these guys?
They were told to settle here as part of the autonomous district, and it didn't seem like they had any homes or offices to go back to.
“Alright! Everyone, follow me!”
“...Pardon?”
“Why?”
Excuse me? Talking back?
“You want MORE before you go?”
“No, ma'am!”
“We'll come!”
“Right this way!”
They only listen after a beating. Always.
So we made our way to the martial arts hall at the crossroads—the one I'd been told about. Well, "martial arts hall" was a grand title; it wasn't much to look at.
“What brings you here today?”
Unlike that limp noodle from yesterday, a dignified-looking muscular man greeted me.
“I'd like you to give those friends of mine some corrective education, please.”
“Hmm. There is a tuition fee...”
Shhhhfffff.
I pulled out a wad of the scrap notes I'd been hoarding during my trips through Shang and Zhou.
“Gahk!?”
“Will this cover it?”
“Yes! Of course! We'll rebuild them from the marrow out!”
“Lovely.”
Money really is wonderful. When something isn't getting solved, you ought to ask yourself whether you're just short on strength—or short on cash.
“If any of them run off, please catch them and proceed as planned.”
“We will do our utmost.”
“Oh! And one more thing—they're terribly flimsy. Hit them a lot, and build up their toughness, please.”
“Then they will most certainly run away?”
Hm? I'm not going to ask for a refund, so don't worry your head about it!
“If they bolt, I'll just come catch them myself! Don't stress about it.”
Once the boys were handed over, well—these things resolve themselves quickly.
“Gasp.”
“B-Big Sis...”
“Sob. What do we do now?”
“No idea, you bastards...”
Were they doing a local radio drama?
“Hey! Can you not keep it down? YOU were the ones who started mouthing off? And that's why you lost. So—do you plan to listen, or not? Or shall I just plant you all headfirst in the dirt on my way out?”
“““NO, MA'AM!!”””
Oh. Look at that. In perfect unison, no less.
“My! Now THAT'S an answer I like! Next time I come, I'll bring you all something tasty. Look forward to it!”
“Sob... You'll really come back?”
Oh? Was he touched? Crying and everything... sorry for hitting you, I guess...
“Of course. I promise!”
“Hurk!”
“Gurgle.”
Fainting from pure joy, huh. Though I only come by once every few hundred years... how on earth are you all going to survive until then?
Eh. They'll pace themselves somehow and live their lives diligently.
“Take care, everyone! See you next time!”
“Sob sob. Safe travels, Big Sis!”
“Hurk hurk. Farewell!”
“You were away for a few days, I see. The place was empty.”
“Yeah. Went to go see my little brothers.”
Could I really call them that? I didn't even know their names.
“Hm? Your brothers?”
“Right? I don't even know who they are.”
Woori said he'd go catch them, but apparently he couldn't? Ugh, he really dropped the ball this time.
“Anyway, you found them?”
“Yes, well, it's nothing too serious...”
Then why the dramatic pause?
“There was... a bit of a fight.”
“What!? The Mongols, finally!?”
The nomads had already grown into a power that size?
“No—ah, no. It was, um... a place in the West called Assyria, apparently.”
“What business would we ever have running into them?”
Even following the Steppe Road, you'd come out on the Greek side of things. And the mountain ranges made crossing directly difficult anyway.
“They sailed there by ship to conduct some exchanges, and it seems there was a misunderstanding. A fight broke out.”
Sailed there? By ship? Wouldn't that take an absolutely eternity?
“When... was this?”
“About a year ago...”
“That long ago? And the kids?”
“They're perfectly fine.”
Well, of course they were fine—otherwise Woori wouldn't have come back so casually. Too far away to even wage a proper war, so what was the problem?
“But?”
“They came back with a shipload full of goods. Think that'll be a problem?”
Oh? So they'd taken up banditry again?