Guests in the Dead of Night
Baek Won-young's martial arts were certainly formidable.
As the eldest son of the Alliance Leader, he wielded his sword like a man possessed by a war god. The Twenty-Eight Blood Paths, the sword art he practiced, was counted among the finest techniques in all the jianghu.
Even so, Jiang Zhou had held his own against him in a respectable back-and-forth duel, drawing the admiration and envy of every late-stage prodigy watching from the sidelines.
Granted, that was largely thanks to the considerable slack the great hero Baek had cut him.
"Congratulations."
Ak Hwan scratched his head, looking sheepish.
"Thank you. Though I seem to be late with the introductions. I am Ak Hwan, of the Murim Alliance."
At his belated greeting, Jiang Zhou gave his own name in return.
"Jiang Zhou, owner of this inn."
"Haha......"
"I suppose I won the tournament thanks to you, Master Jiang."
Jiang Zhou brushed the remark aside with easy composure.
"You give me too much credit. My master used to say that even the greatest heroes under heaven need the right moment to find them. It seems you were simply waiting for such a moment, Young Master Ak."
"Hahaha......"
Pleasant laughter spilled from Ak Hwan's lips. Everything about this inn was strange — and so was its owner. The food was one thing, but the innkeeper had a way about him, a manner and a turn of phrase that put people completely at ease.
"And what is this dish?"
He picked up a piece of the seasoned root with his chopsticks and asked.
"Seasoned lance asiabell root. It should taste quite good."
Deodeok root was traditionally used as a medicinal herb, not served as a side dish. Nodding, the young man lifted a piece to his mouth. Lightly grilled before being seasoned, it carried a lovely aroma and a soft, mellow flavor.
It really is delicious. Wait — could it be? Was my increase in inner power actually because of the seasoned greens, not the pork noodles?
It was entirely possible that some rare spirit herb had found its way into the mountain greens by accident. Ak Hwan's eyes snapped wide open, and he began shoveling the seasoned greens into his mouth one after another. Most of the plants served in the dish were herbs used in medicine, so his guess was probably right on the mark.
It wasn't the noodles — it was the greens. There must have been a precious medicinal herb among the ones I ate.
Jiang Zhou watched him from behind the stove as he cooked.
He certainly loves his greens. Well, my master always liked them too — said they were delicious.
"Your pork noodles are ready."
When the bowl was set down, Ak Hwan's chopsticks stopped mid-air. The wooden plates before him were already scraped perfectly clean.
"Ah...... thank you."
Face to face with the pork noodles at last, Ak Hwan swallowed hard. The greens had been delicious, but this — this could only be called the taste of the sublime. Noodle dishes, no matter how skillfully made, were all more or less the same. Or so he had believed. But having eaten here, he now understood that noodles had ranks and tiers of their own.
Ak Hwan went for the meat first, popping a slice into his mouth.
Soft and springy, just as I thought. How does anyone cook something this good?
Sluuurp......
The springy noodles yielded a subtle sweetness the more he chewed them. And the broth — how could anything be so rich yet so clean? The meat stock at every other inn he'd ever visited had carried a greasy, gamey tang, but here he could not detect the faintest trace of it.
"One more bowl."
He placed the order before he had even finished his first.
Thack! Thack!
Jiang Zhou struck his cutting board and began pulling the noodles.
The little traitor. I gave him my treasured liquor just because he was my first paying customer, and now this......
His stomach churned, but he was in no position to say anything openly — this wretch was, after all, the inn's only customer so far.
When the night grew deep, Ak Hwan lay down in his bed, barely restraining his excitement. Soon his whole body would flush hot with the surge of power.
Come on. Come on, hurry......
Nearly half a shichen passed with his eyes stretched wide, yet nothing stirred in his body.
Did I rush things too much?
Ak Hwan closed his eyes and tried to sleep. Rushing never made the inevitable come any faster. But though he shut his eyes and willed himself toward sleep, it refused to come. Time kept flowing — one shichen passed, then two.
Still, nothing. His body remained utterly unresponsive.
Why isn't it working? Did I guess wrong?
No matter how he turned it over, it didn't seem like a mistake. Among everything he'd eaten, the only thing that could plausibly be a spirit herb was the greens.
It can't be the liquor.
The cooking at that inn was good enough to have been made by a celestial master chef, but the liquor was another matter entirely. What they sold there was the same harsh swill you could taste anywhere on the road.
Having stared the night away sleepless, Ak Hwan rose with exhaustion written across his face.
"I suppose...... it wasn't the greens after all."
He muttered the words with a hollow look, opened his door, and stepped outside. One by one, members of the South Wind Squad were emerging into the pre-dawn darkness.
Maybe that spirit herb was only in the portion I already ate. Yes — that has to be it.
Three days passed without a single customer.
Even Ak Hwan, who had appeared four days ago, stopped showing his face. A man couldn't very well pay a few silver taels for a meal every day, so Jiang Zhou could understand his absence, more or less.
And why hasn't Samryong-i come back?
Yang Jeong had sworn he'd be right back, yet more than half a month had gone by without him.
Bored out of my mind.
Standing there staring blankly down the road all day made him feel like an absolute fool. Jiang Zhou got to his feet, grabbed a woven basket, and headed out to the hills. Times like these called for moving the body on purpose — it made the hours pass faster and kept the tedium at bay.
Picking greens and snapping branches, he hardly noticed the day darkening around him. Back at the inn, he set water to boil and trimmed the greens he'd gathered.
"Have to toss the meat again."
With no customers, whatever meat he'd prepped fell to his own table. But there was only so much a man could eat alone.
"Damn it."
Jiang Zhou blanched the trimmed greens in boiling water, drained them, then peeled and hand-tore the deodeok root and bellflower root. Rice settled into the pot, and by the time he'd gone so far as to make Dongpo pork from the pork belly, the night had already deepened. Not a breath of human presence stirred along the road to the Murim Alliance anymore.
Having stuffed himself to bursting, Jiang Zhou carried his empty bowls down to the stream. He was rinsing them in the cold water and about to sit quietly for a moment when he noticed someone walking toward him from the direction of the Alliance.
Who in the world comes around at this hour of the night?
The man walking through the darkness wore a sword at his hip, his shoulders thrown wide, his frame tall and imposing. He passed in front of the inn without a glance and continued on toward the village.
The middle-aged man halted mid-stride and gazed quietly into the darkness. How long did he stand there? At last, a heavy, low voice rolled out of him.
"You came?"
A chill answer drifted back from the dark.
"I did."
From the shadows across the way, another middle-aged man emerged — and a remarkably handsome one at that. His features were so strikingly refined he might have been mistaken for a beautiful woman of middle years. The man who had arrived first was handsome in his own right, but there was simply no comparing them.
"Dokgo Yeob. It was you who spread that song, wasn't it?"
"You summoned me out here over that? Pathetic, Baek Mun-do."
A cold killing intent began to flow between the two men.
Whooooosh......
It was such a virulent aura that even the wind, attempting to pass between them, seemed startled by it and veered sharply away.
"Pathetic? You just called it pathetic? You cursed bastard."
The first man's eyes gleamed a glacial blue. In the midnight dark, he looked for all the world like a savage beast stalking its prey.
"Then did I fabricate it out of nothing? You narrow-minded fool."
The other man's eyes flashed the same glacial blue. The first man trembled from head to toe with fury, and a strangled voice ground out between his teeth.
"Is Lady Gwak well?"
At the question, the man across from him curled his lips into a cold sneer.
"Why ask after another man's wife? Have you still not gotten over mine?"
"Am I not even allowed to ask, you wretch?"
"What was that? Wretch? I'm tempted to rip that mouth of yours clean open."
The killing intent pouring off the two middle-aged men rolled clear across the forest, blanketing trees standing far in the distance.
Shudder......
Responding to that aura, the trees deep in the woods — who had been quietly resting — shivered from root to crown. Then, almost in unison, the two men who had been silently glaring at each other released their killing intent at the same time.
"Shall we...... go have a drink somewhere?"
The man who had been waiting asked in a hesitant voice.
"'Somewhere'? You dragged me all the way out here and you haven't even prepared the liquor?"
The handsome man across from him took the remark as an invitation to bicker.
"Why do you always pick a fight? I have good liquor ready — let's go to the Murim Alliance."
"You bastard. You've got masters lying in ambush inside the Alliance, don't you? Planning to kill me?"
The waiting man could only glare at him with a look of pure incredulity.
"Suspicious wretch. You were like this back then too — still carrying on with the same nonsense."
"Shut your mouth, you bastard."
Since neither of them wished to enter the Murim Alliance, the village's taverns were all that remained. But the village inns and drinking houses would be crawling with Alliance warriors, so those were out of the question as well.
It was then that the man who had been waiting suddenly recalled the pale banner he'd glimpsed earlier. To think an inn had sprung up in a place like that. The old manor in that forest had such a reputation as a haunted house that no one had set foot near it in twenty-some years.
"Follow me."
The first man turned his steps back toward the direction of the Murim Alliance.
"I told you, I'm not going to the Alliance."
"I have no intention of going there either, so just walk."
The man who had arrived late had no choice but to trail after him. But the direction they were walking made no sense at all. All at once they left the road and struck out into the forest.
"Where exactly are we going?"
"I've never been there, so I don't know."
The two men crossed the stone bridge over the stream. A dozen paces or so beyond the bridge, a small house came into view. But the place had apparently already closed for the night; its lights were out.
"They're shutting their doors. I'll have to look elsewhere."
"That's just like you. And they call you a leader — you can't even manage a single thing properly......!"
The handsome man let out a scornful laugh, then suddenly raised his voice and roared.
Now what in the world is this?
Jiang Zhou, on the very edge of sleep, bolted upright. A killing intent sharp enough to freeze the marrow, so piercing it raised gooseflesh across his entire body. As the murderous aura swept through the woods, the trees shuddered as one and began to moan.
The only other time he'd felt anything like this was back in the day when his master flew into a rage. And now, barely out of the mountains and into the jianghu, he was being ambushed by this kind of aura in his sleep.
Good grief......
You big liar, Master. You claimed to be the best under heaven, and out here every dog and cat on the road can spew an aura like this.
Jiang Zhou flopped back down and tried to go back to sleep — but then a man's shout reached his ears.
"A leader who can't even manage a single thing properly......!"
Customers?
Uninvited guests at this late hour, to be sure — but customers nonetheless, and he had to go out and greet them properly. He hurried to the kitchen and stepped outside, where two middle-aged men stood waiting in the dark.
The man on the right was the one he'd seen while doing dishes by the stream — tall, broad through the shoulders, with a ruggedly handsome face. The man on the left was equally tall and broad-shouldered, but looking at his face was like gazing upon a breathtakingly beautiful woman of middle years.
They both seem to be martial artists, but their energy feels remarkably ordinary.
Having sized up the two men, Jiang Zhou lit the lantern outside and bowed his head.
"Welcome, gentlemen."
The two of them looked the inn up and down, then stared down at the chairs carved from logs.
"Don't tell me we're meant to sit on this?"
the beautiful-as-a-woman man asked, his brow furrowing.
"Yes, sir. It's the only seating we have."
The man gave Jiang Zhou a brief once-over, then grumbled his way down onto the chair.
"To think I have to drink in a place like this......"
At that, the ruggedly handsome man sat down across from him as well, if a bit begrudgingly.
"Will you quit your complaining. Sorry to come by so late. Bring out whatever liquor and food you have."
"Of course. One moment, please."
With a respectful bow, Jiang Zhou went back inside and lit the stove first. Then he ladled liquor from the cask into a bottle and transferred the seasoned greens onto wooden plates.
When he set out the greens and the bottle, the ruggedly handsome man asked,
"What's this?"
Such side dishes were normally fried in oil, but this inn appeared to have simply blanched theirs.
"Seasoned wild greens, sir. They're quite good — do try some."
The two men stared down at the plate for a long moment before finally picking up their chopsticks.
Tsk......
"You call this cooking...... You never change, do you. Always cutting corners."
The beautiful man sneered as he shoved a bite of greens into his mouth. But the instant the food touched his tongue, his eyes wavered. A fragrant aroma bloomed across his palate, and the texture — crisp yet yielding — was exactly to his liking.
Mm...... hmmm......
Swallowing their murmurs of approval, they took a few more bites of the greens and then filled their cups.
But unlike with the greens, when they drank the liquor, both men frowned slightly.
"The liquor's nothing special."
"Cheap swill."
Back at his stove, Jiang Zhou felt a slow burn rising in his chest.
Waking a man from his sleep just to run their mouths like this.
Still, he kept the complaint off his face and out of his voice.