Chapter 207
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 57
Chapter Title: Bright Moon Rises Over Heavenly Mountain (1)
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The opening lines of a poem by an ancient poet.
Just looking at these two verses, one can sense the poet gazing at the moon rising over distant Tian Shan, yearning for the moon above his hometown hills. An interpretation might go like this:
The bright moon rises over Heavenly Mountain,
amid the vast sea of clouds.
The Face Pursuit Unit Jeong, thirteen strong under Jin Ga-yong's lead, set out in the morning.
They rode hard all day, only stopping at sunset for a brief meal and rest before pressing on into the night, galloping along a pitch-black road lit solely by stars.
The sporadic chatter between hoofbeats had long since faded, leaving only the rhythmic thud of thirteen horses' hooves to mark their path.
How much time had passed?
Only when a waning moon finally crested the sky did the group rein in their mounts. The horses were utterly spent by now, barely able to go on. This was a remote village at the western edge of Shaanxi Province, bordering Gansu.
The Face Pursuit Unit Jeong boarded the merchant wagons waiting there and dozed fitfully amid the jolting ride.
Though all were hardy men, a full day in the saddle was exhausting enough—and vital for pacing their strength. Their three-day journey had only just completed its first leg.
...
"My stomach's churning. My bones are rattling. Feels like I've been tortured all night. Damn horse."
When Flying Tiger cracked open his eyes from corpse-like sleep, Ye Dok-du was grumbling across from him at Dan-geum. Their eyes met.
"Oh~ You're up?"
"Thanks to who?"
Flying Tiger glanced outside the wagon. Dawn had broken. The landscape had shifted to barren, rugged plains—a stark reminder they'd entered Gansu Province.
He flung open the wagon door and climbed onto the roof. Four wagons, each pulled by four horses, snaked across the vast plain in a line. He spread a mat on the bucking roof and took in the road they'd traveled.
It had been over a year now, the same path he'd traversed entering the Central Plains with Gong Won-yeong.
After escaping the assassins' den, Flying Tiger and Gong Won-yeong had wandered eastward for years.
The first two years were spent shaking pursuers; the next two, seeking a nest of their own.
After three years, they settled on a quiet plateau in the range called Heavenly Mountain, White Mountain, or Snowy Mountain, finally finding respite.
But it didn't last.
Gong Won-yeong's chronic illness flared up violently. With rest came release of pent-up tension, unleashing the ailment that had quietly gnawed at her.
She had hoped for a peaceful death there.
But Flying Tiger couldn't allow it.
He persuaded her, and they abandoned their hard-won haven, heading east once more.
Toward the cosmopolitan hub of Chang'an City, where the world's bounty flowed like the sea's embrace. Surely such a place held someone who could cure her—that was their hope.
Descending Heavenly Mountain, crossing the desert to Jade Gate Pass, then down the Hexi Corridor through Lanzhou, they'd entered this very road.
By then, Gong Won-yeong was so frail she spent most days bedridden. Yet Flying Tiger clung to hope, urging her on.
Just a bit more.
We're almost there.
And...
'...And what else did that idiot say?'
Flying Tiger stared blankly at the scenery, muttering inwardly, 'What an idiot.'
How much heartache had she endured, dragged along by the hand of that idiot?
Because that idiot couldn't let go, what trials was she facing now?
"Maybe... what Won-yeong needed wasn't me, but peaceful rest. And maybe I'm the one ruining that."
...
The wagon train pressed on for another two hours before halting at an inn in Chenshui County.
There, the group washed up and ate a hearty breakfast before mounting fresh horses provided by the merchants and heading for Lanzhou, Gansu's capital.
But the world doesn't bend to human will, no matter the preparations.
Around noon, they hit a sandstorm.
With nowhere to flee in the barren wastes, they hunkered down early, tethering the spooked horses together and wrapping themselves in wind-cloaks to weather it.
All they could do was pray to survive unscathed. Before nature's sudden fury, even masters were powerless mortals.
Whoooosh~
The storm brought plunging temperatures and deafening roars that deafened the ears. Eyes stung shut; sand choked nose and mouth. No sense worked properly.
It felt like utter isolation amid scattering chaos.
'Am I going to die like this? Leaving Won-yeong behind?'
Flying Tiger felt a chill of fear.
He was usually stoic about life and death, but not now. If he died here, she'd be left in limbo—because of his foolish greed.
'At least in death, I must preserve my dignity!'
The thought churned his mind, waves subsiding only after a long while.
When Flying Tiger came to, the storm had passed.
Glancing around, he saw the group—including himself—half-buried and sand-caked, but mostly unharmed. Just thoroughly drained from the ordeal.
"You alright?"
When Jin Ga-yong asked, Flying Tiger nodded. But as So Myeong-rang, A Jeok-gang, Dan-geum, and even Sa-myo crowded in with the same question, he felt anything but.
So when Ye Dok-du approached, Flying Tiger beat him to it.
"What's the deal? Why's everyone fussing over me?"
"I get it."
"Get what?"
"Didn't you just scream bloody murder at the sky, eyes bloodshot like a madman?"
"Me?"
"No idea? Guess you really lost it. Even Leader Jin was worried—crept up behind you, ready to jab an acupoint if needed."
"......"
Sounds like he'd truly snapped. The knot in his heart must have been that tight.
Embarrassed, Flying Tiger flushed as Ye Dok-du scanned about, then leaned in with his grotesque face, whispering conspiratorially. So Myeong-rang's ears twitched from across the way.
"Well, I get it. Even I was chilled to the bone—must've been terrifying for you. Kahaha. Of course, this old man just felt the chill; didn't flinch an inch in the end."
"Ah......"
"But no need to be too embarrassed. Truth is, you weren't the only one acting crazy."
Sharing the shame lightens the load—that was Ye Dok-du's "kind" explanation.
Curious who shared his shame (two, no less), Flying Tiger learned one was Na-mok, the scatterbrained one on this trip, and the other a newbie from E-Jo.
Na-mok, face pale as death, had clutched his ears and wailed in some unearthly tongue. A Jeok-gang had knocked him out with an acupoint strike; even now awake, his eyes were glassy.
And A-hu, per Ye Dok-du, showed the exact same symptoms. Staring at the sky, cursing up a storm like a total lunatic.
At the time, A-hu had been whispering with Dae-san in the corner. Unlike others, their words didn't carry to Flying Tiger. But probably something like what Ye Dok-du was saying now? A-hu had glanced his way then, eyes locking with Flying Tiger's casual look.
Both quickly averted their gazes.
Instinct warned that tangling now would spell immediate trouble. And inwardly, they shared the same thought.
'That guy's getting on my nerves.'
...
Thanks to the sandstorm, the Face Pursuit Unit Jeong lost about two hours and only reached Lanzhou late at night.
They headed straight to their reserved inn, unpacked, and ended the grueling day.
Lanzhou was a different world—people and vibe alike.
Chang'an was cosmopolitan too, but here Han Chinese were less than half, a true melting pot of ethnicities.
And even late night, it buzzed with energy. This was the lively kickoff for long journeys west along the Silk Road—or the final rest before the end.
'Won-yeong hated noisy places, but I loved the clamor. Mingling wasn't my thing, but watching made me feel part of the world.'
Flying Tiger sipped his tea alone, lost in thought.
After today's scare, his ironclad principle—that nothing could separate him from her—felt shaken to the roots. Maybe cracks had already formed, only surfacing now.
"Lost in thought?"
Jin Ga-yong entered the teahouse and sat opposite, noticing Flying Tiger's wavering eyes.
An awkward silence fell, broken as both spoke at once.
"Any news?"
"No word?"
They'd asked the same thing, paused in mutual surprise, then chuckled. They'd half-guessed each other's answers already.
Soon, they shared updates from carrier pigeons.
Jin Ga-yong went first: no word yet from the deputy commander, but a reply by tomorrow in some form. Flying Tiger confirmed the same from Wu Yi of the Western Bureau—no incidents.
Then Flying Tiger asked,
"About Na-mok, though. You sure he's okay?"
"Still thinking. I'll watch him more; if not, send him back."
"Hm. What about E-Jo's newbie? Tae-gyeon A-hu, right?"