Heng Mountain Auditor Jumping - 2
An awkward standoff dragged on. I, whose room had been occupied by what I presumed was a deer, and the deer itself—which showed no sign of fleeing even with a human now present—both stared blankly at each other without making a sound.
Why's it just sitting there? This was confusing. If it were a beast of prey, facing off like this wouldn't be strange, but normal herbivores bolt at the mere scent of humans. Yet this one felt no threat whatsoever, even with a person blocking the door—its only escape route. It just stared back like, what now?
...Is it kept here? I eventually reached a logical conclusion. If it was a pet raised by the Hengshanpa, it made sense that it wouldn't fear people. And that explained the mukbang in my room too. Guest rooms like this one would normally be empty, so a pet sneaking in wasn't odd.
Guess I should quietly shoo it out. Realizing this deer wasn't some intruder but one of the household's residents, I approached cautiously. Wild animals could just be chased off, but a proper resident of the house deserved a polite escort.
"My lord? Is something the matter?"
As I moved carefully to avoid startling the deer, Jeong U-rok's voice came from behind. I was a bit surprised. For him to return after showing Jo Wi-cheo to another room meant a fair amount of time had passed. The fact that I'd spent it all in a standoff with a mere beast filled me with a bizarre sense of self-loathing.
"Ah, so that's in your room."
Jeong U-rok sidled up and peered over my shoulder at the deer, frowning. I'd been caught red-handed, frozen in indecision because of a deer, but now that a Hengshanpa disciple was here, he'd surely remove the pet—
"I'll show you to another room."
? What? Why was he moving the person instead of the deer? Even for a Taoist sect living in harmony with nature, wasn't this extreme animal favoritism?
"That's not just any deer—it's a spirit beast."
"Ah."
But his follow-up explanation made sense. A spirit beast? Yeah, that checked out. Spirit beasts were living creatures infused with mystical energy, as the name implied. And Hengshan—one of China's Five Sacred Mountains, a holy site revered by Confucians, Buddhists, and Taoists alike, a training ground where Taoists refined their qi all day—combined symbolism and spiritual potency. A deer frolicking here evolving into a spirit beast? Not strange at all.
Yeah, not strange. So far, so good. But then—
"It figured out we couldn't touch it and started causing chaos."
"Chaos?"
"Yes."
The disaster struck once the spirit beast realized its position. At first, the Hengshanpa Taoists had welcomed its appearance. It wasn't some ferocious spider or snake that had evolved into a spirit beast—it was a cute, gentle deer. Plus, the fact that Hengshan, their home, could turn ordinary animals into spirit beasts proved it was a true sacred mountain, delighting them no end.
But despite their affection, the spirit deer kept scampering away. It had been a timid herbivore before, after all. The Taoists felt some regret but gradually forgot about it... until—
"That should have been the last encounter."
Jeong U-rok let out a wry chuckle and recounted the chaotic saga of the spirit beast.
One day, apparently hungry, it approached the Hengshanpa and successfully scored a meal. It also realized the Taoists wouldn't catch it—they doted on it instead. Emboldened, the loiterer grew bolder, waltzing into the sect's dining hall to share meals with the Taoists.
That much was fine. Eating with a spirit beast was a rare treat anywhere.
"But now it's not content with just begging for food—it roams the Hengshanpa like it's its house."
However, once it started coming and going freely, the spirit beast chewed through stored herbs, nibbled the hair of meditating Taoists, charged at sparring disciples with its antlers, and pulled all sorts of stunts. As these incidents piled up, even within the sect, sentiment turned against this demonic spirit beast. They even threatened it with swords to drive it off.
But it didn't work.
"It caught on that threats end as threats."
"Yes. It's awfully clever..."
Tragically, while the Hengshanpa could threaten the spirit beast to chase it away, they couldn't use direct force. That was Daesong law.
Who knew it'd come to this. I let out a hollow laugh at the spirit beast's plight as a protected animal, a natural monument.
The court strictly forbade civilian—more precisely, murim factions—from capturing or killing spirit beasts. The reason? Simple grudge: While we fought the Mongols, you lot stayed silent—what right do you have to harvest spirit beast energy? In the early days of Daesong's founding, several sects and families who ignored this were wiped out.
Hengshanpa, which had joined the founding war, was no exception. Unlike non-participants who couldn't touch spirit beasts no matter what, participating sects like theirs could do so with just formal court permission.
Yes—with court approval, they could handle spirit beasts.
"This invitation wasn't entirely pure."
"My apologies, my lord. But the sect leader's gratitude toward you is genuine."
I patted Jeong U-rok's shoulder as he bowed deeply, helping him straighten up. I wasn't particularly offended. Any sect leader would act if a thug in spirit beast clothing was making his disciples flee.
But there was one fatal issue the sect leader didn't know.
"Sorry, but issuing spirit beast capture permits is beyond my authority."
"...Pardon?"
Regrettably, only central ministry vice directors or provincial top officials at Jeong 3-pum rank or higher could approve spirit beast captures. A Jeong 4-pum like me? No dice.
"That said, I'll report Hengshanpa's plight in detail to the Left Censor-in-Chief, so approval should come soon. Probably in a few days."
Jeong U-rok, rigid from my bombshell, nodded in relief at my follow-up. Pitiful. How badly had they suffered to call in a Jeong 4-pum for this?
It's just one deer. Hard to understand, but as an outsider, I couldn't judge their pain. I'd just quietly send a messenger bird to the Left Censor-in-Chief.
This damn deer bastard.
—Kki-eeeeeng!
"Hey, you beast! Let me sleep!"
I yelled at the spirit beast—nay, the deer too unworthy of the title—blaring its grating cry all dawn long. I was losing my mind. Had it marked me after locking eyes during its feast? The cursed thing had tracked me to my new room, hurling provocations nonstop.
At first, I figured it'd last 10 or 20 minutes before leaving. But three hours in? I was going insane.
Initiation ritual? I even thought that. With its invincible "natural monument" title, it'd already sorted hierarchies with the Hengshanpa. Now it wanted to assert dominance over a newcomer.
—Kki-eeeeeeng!
I ground my teeth at the even louder cry. Never had I resented my Jeong 4-pum rank more.
Sleepless tonight, I sipped tea under the moonlight.
—Kki-eeeeeng!
"Hey, you beast! Let me sleep!"
The familiar spirit beast cry and the Left Vice Censor-in-Chief's fury-filled shout echoed.
The Giwang heir for sure. I chuckled at the desperate outburst. That temper was pure Giwang. Hidden usually, but extremes revealed true nature?
Extremes. A wry smile crossed my face at the spirit beast driving even the usually mild Left Vice Censor-in-Chief to show his colors.
As Hengshanpa's sect leader, I'd been quietly thrilled at the spirit beast's appearance. Spirit beasts were heaven-blessed. One gracing our beloved Hengshan? Heaven's favor.
Who knew? Its arrival was no boon—but heaven's trial.
"Sect Leader! The spirit beast ate all the disciples' food!"
"Sect Leader! The herbs—all gone!"
"Sect Leader! That deer's eating the window paper! We repair it, and it eats that too!"
"Sect Leader! Meditating disciples are begging you to do something about the deer!"
"S-Sect Leader! That demon rammed sparring disciples and fled!"
"Sect Leader! Sect Leader!"
"Sect Leeeeader!"
Ugh. Recalling the chaos made my head throb. The shift from "deer" to "demon" in descriptions was telling.
Just endure a few days. The silver lining? These tormenting days were numbered. A Jeong 4-pum like the Left Vice Censor-in-Chief lacked capture rights, but he could swiftly reach the Jeong 2-pum Left Censor-in-Chief.
A few days of messenger birds. Just hold out, and we'd bid farewell to that thing.
...Forget inner cores or antlers. This was sincere. If it vanished from Hengshan, I'd yield them all to the Left Vice Censor-in-Chief. What did they matter if my Taoists regained peace?