Doubts in the Teahouse
The history of tracking chariots runs long. And so too does the history of teahouses. Beginning with the daguan established during the Tang dynasty, teahouses passed through the Song and Yuan eras before becoming fully popularized in the Ming. What had once been places serving both liquor and food evolved into specialized chadian dealing solely in tea. Yet because tea had become so deeply woven into daily life, the opposite also existed—not the refined, etiquette-bound daguan, but simple roadside stalls where one could set down a table, rest awhile, and drink a cup of tea while passing by. The place Namgung Woo and Myo-rin entered was closer to the latter. Though it occupied an entire two-story building, it was the sort of establishment where one could rest comfortably without worrying about tea ceremony or anything of the sort. Besides tea, it also sold liquor and food. Save for the variety of teas on offer and the lack of lodging, it was little different from an ordinary inn. Still, for martial artists whose lives hung by a thread and who kept liquor as their companion, such places held little appeal. Ordinary folk, seeking to avoid martial artists, frequented them instead.
"I understand you came here to avoid the eyes of martial artists… but shouldn't we be searching?"
"Luoyang is vast. Wandering aimlessly won't help. Whoever is being pursued will have noticed by now."
Myo-rin asked no further questions. He must have thought it through already.
"Come to think of it, this is the first time we've moved about just the two of us, isn't it?"
"It is? The Unit Leader always foists me off on someone else."
"When you put it that way, I have nothing to say."
Whenever Myo-rin expressed a desire to go somewhere, Namgung Woo would assign Geumsin or the Yang brothers rather than accompany her himself.
"I know, I know. The Unit Leader is surprisingly henpecked."
Myo-rin spoke in a half-formal, half-casual tone close to her natural speech, flashing a sly smile to show how familiar they had become. She understood perfectly why Namgung Woo avoided being alone with her—because of Paeng Ha-ryeong. Even someone as inexperienced in romance as Myo-rin, who had learned everything from rumors alone, possessed basic common sense.
"You seem to have grown quite close with Ha-ryeong as well. Didn't the two of you go about alone when you first arrived in Luoyang?"
"We did, didn't we?"
"Lately it seems like she's plotting something. Tell me now, before something happens and you come asking for help later."
"Plotting what? And I don't cause accidents."
Myo-rin pouted as she spoke, but Namgung Woo did not believe her easily.
"What have you been doing holed up in your room since then? I already know your energy was moving strangely. Speak while I'm still asking nicely."
"It's really nothing important."
"Myo-rin. If you keep hiding things, I can't help you."
"Wow… that line is the absolute worst. You really shouldn't say that to Ha-ryeong unni."
Myo-rin made a face of disgust as she regarded Namgung Woo, who looked as though he would not budge until she spoke.
"Persistent men aren't popular, you know. Sigh, you'll keep it a secret from Ha-ryeong unni that I told you, right?"
She had intended to keep it secret, but what could she do? This was the man Paeng Ha-ryeong herself had chosen. Myo-rin felt no guilt. It wasn't my fault. I tried to hide it.
"I was making the virginity mark. Ha-ryeong unni said she wanted one too. A proper virginity mark encompasses one's entire past. Honestly, I wonder if such a thing is even necessary, but she insisted she wanted it."
Once she began, the words flowed freely from Myo-rin.
"But everyone knows how strictly the great families manage their women's chastity. To go so far as to imprint a virginity mark… Ha-ryeong unni has a surprisingly dark side."
"Enough. I understand, so let's stop there. I'll pretend I didn't hear anything…"
"Pfft, already? The henpecked husband has arrived, the henpecked husband has arrived."
Having gained the upper hand over Namgung Woo for the first time, Myo-rin's face completely relaxed as she laughed openly. Fortunately for Namgung Woo, Myo-rin's teasing did not last long. Their ordered tea and light refreshments had arrived. Warm tea and snacks easy to eat. Now quite accustomed to drinking tea, Namgung Woo was savoring the aroma when Myo-rin circulated the inner energy of the Pure Heart Art she had learned. The yin-natured inner energy of the Pure Heart Art, refined through spellcraft, transformed into cold qi and gathered in her hand.
Crack. Crack.
The moment the steaming teacup touched Myo-rin's hand, it cooled rapidly, forming a thin layer of ice on the surface of the tea. Hot tea? Don't make me laugh. Myo-rin drank the teeth-chillingly cold tea in one go and crunched the ice loudly.
"Ah, that's the stuff."
Namgung Woo had seen Myo-rin freeze any beverage she drank several times before, yet the sight still failed to grow familiar. Having emptied her cup in one gulp, Myo-rin habitually reached into her robes. From within the loose Taoist robe, she drew out an oddly shaped pipe. The front was rounded and concave, designed to hold something, tapering thinner toward the back. A gombangdae, also called danjuk. Somewhat modified. Looking pleased—her smile brighter than when she had been teasing Namgung Woo—Myo-rin fiddled with the pipe before belatedly noticing his presence and letting out a slightly dazed "Ah."
"I can smoke one, right?"
"Do as you like. I brought you out, so I should at least allow that much."
"Then I won't refuse."
Myo-rin produced a bundle of herbs from her sleeve—where she kept such things—and began packing them into the concave bowl of the pipe. "Would the Unit Leader like one too? I don't have another pipe, but you could roll it in paper."
"I'm fine. I don't smoke, so why would I smoke cannabis? It's not good for the body."
Indeed. What Myo-rin smoked was not tobacco but cannabis—the very same plant that would one day be classified as a narcotic. To Namgung Woo, cannabis was harm itself. Yet Myo-rin's thoughts differed.
"The toxicity can be refined and expelled with inner energy. It's the addictiveness that's the problem, right? Those at the Transcendent Realm who've unified essence, energy, and spirit have no such issues. At your level, Unit Leader, you'd probably smoke all day and feel nothing but boredom before throwing it away."
Namgung Woo sipped his tea in silence, signaling that the remark was not worth answering. Myo-rin grumbled softly at being rejected. This is how precious it is. Like a raccoon washing its food, she meticulously prepared everything with both hands before placing the pipe to her lips and taking a deep draw.
"Huuu… haa…"
Before the distinctive pungent smell of cannabis could spread, a spell activated from Myo-rin's body and erased all traces. It was the Kirin's Step, a spell modeled after the kirin that walks upon grass without bending a single blade, erasing one's own presence. Combined with the Phoenix Flight, this was how Myo-rin had roamed Beijing—home of the Jinyiwei—without being discovered.
"Haa, I feel alive."
Myo-rin exhaled languidly as she felt the medicinal energy circulate rapidly. Whether the state permitted it or not, this was truly a narcotic. After all, it was medicine made from actual cannabis. It was not an excuse or self-justification—cannabis was genuine medicine to Myo-rin. The price paid for engraving the spell tattoos was dulled senses. Extreme loss of taste and smell was the most basic effect; even basic touch no longer functioned properly. Yet the occasional pain that broke through was so intense it made one wonder if her senses had truly weakened at all. The Four Spirits Runes Myo-rin had engraved. The price for that absurd power was cruel indeed. To her, cannabis—which dulled pain and heightened sensation—was nothing short of salvation.
Myo-rin, who usually maintained a cynical, expressionless face, took another draw from the pipe with a languid smile. Then she stuffed her mouth full of the refreshments that had come with the tea. Myo-rin, who had once been a pitiful creature ignorant of taste, was now moved to tears by the explosion of flavor in her mouth and devoted herself wholeheartedly to chewing. After consuming the cannabis and refreshments in a frenzy and emptying the plate, Myo-rin slumped in her chair and called out to Namgung Woo in a slow, drawn-out voice.
"Unit Leader."
"What?"
"But is it really okay for us to just sit here like this?"
Idling away time in the teahouse was comfortable enough for Myo-rin, but shouldn't they be doing what needed to be done? Myo-rin shared the same desire to capture those connected to Lee Ja-ryong. She wanted to prove she had not been complicit in his treason and escape the label of traitor.
"I'm not just sitting here."
Namgung Woo finished the rest of his tea and set down the cup.
"Searching? Fine. Where should we start? The place where I first sensed something strange? Or the second place I tried to track? If that fellow has any sense, he won't be loitering there. There's nothing remarkable about it."
"You mean… there are no clues…?"
"I thought so too, but there are."
Namgung Woo had not been idly chatting with Myo-rin in the teahouse. His eyes had already turned blue-white the moment they entered. His eyes, his senses, had already encompassed the entire district, monitoring every movement of a single individual.
"He was suspicious from the moment we first met."
Seo-mun Pyo of the Heavenly Rain Sword. The reason Namgung Woo had come here was to keep watch on that man.
"An elder died and no one knew? Even if it was an assassination, that's strange."
"If it was the Slaughter King of the Killing Gate… maybe it's possible…?"
"I didn't see that far, so I can't say. But it's still odd. The assassination of an elder is no light matter. Yet he summoned me and tried to pin the blame on me? With evidence that was practically forced? If I were truly the culprit, would I have used lightness skill to flee down the main road after succeeding in the assassination?"
"That… is true…"
"Surprisingly, murders are more often committed by acquaintances than complete strangers. Probably… Seo-mun Pyo is either the culprit or at least an accomplice."
"Hmm… but Seo-mun Pyo and Chae Mun-gwang were said to have shared a friendship of literary mirrors for decades."
Cannabis slowed speech but conversely sharpened thought. Myo-rin could now vividly recall even things she had only half-heard in passing. Yet that very past paradoxically supported Seo-mun Pyo's suspiciousness.
"Could a man like that feel not even a shred of sorrow when his friend died?"