Interlude: The Master's Excessive Wisdom
The master had a corner of her that was excessively wise. The master had a corner of her that was excessively wise. Hearing such a tale, one would normally wonder whether "wise" and "excessively" could truly touch. After seeing a bit of the world, I noticed it had become common custom to revere certain figures as sages. If one truly examined the meaning of "sage," it referred to a person of great wisdom, yet even those who had not passed the civil examinations but had risen high through swordsmanship, poetry, or calligraphy were still called sages or wise ones. It seemed the greatest proof that the world regarded wisdom as the foremost virtue one must pursue in life.
Nevertheless, the master's wisdom was a little excessive. She was so wise that she could never bring herself to utter that one heartless word telling me to give it all up and return home. As her disciple who wished for her comfort, how could I simply stand by and watch? As for why she had become so excessively wise, I, who had not lived long, could not even begin to guess.
Still, it was not as though I had no thread to follow. Living together for nine years, it would have been strange if I did not know which words made her uncomfortable. She disliked the word "immortal," hated the character "eternal," and avoided any mention of the Eight Immortals. Yet the moment she showed the greatest discomfort was not when those words appeared, but when I, cleaning the house in her stead since she never noticed the dust, discovered an old letter bearing the three characters of Guyeongmun. A chill ran down my spine, and when I turned around, the master stood behind me. With a stiff expression unlike her usual self, she told me to hand it over. At the time I had only wanted to be a good disciple, so I simply gave it to her. Now that I was willing to do somewhat wicked things to make her honest, it felt regrettable.
Even if I could not see its contents because of that incident, I at least understood that the master became somewhat honest when it came to those three characters of Guyeongmun. Therefore, after my exchange with Gok Yun, I decided to rest for exactly three days and returned to Yueyang after ten. What I had to do was clear.
...And so, while inquiring about Guyeongmun, I ended up here.
"So, you're saying you're the disciple of Scholar Yu? My, you should have said so earlier. We nearly had a disaster."
"You didn't give me the chance to speak."
"What do you mean I didn't give you a chance? You know, if you'd just grabbed one of them first and shouted, 'You bastard! Do you know who I am? I am Manhwageom, Yu Baek!' they would have understood right away. What on earth are the orthodox sects teaching these days? The old days were better..."
The eccentric, whose gender I could not tell, scratched the back of their head with a bright red finger while lamenting, then let out a scream.
"Ow, hot! Damn it. This is why I don't use Blood Hand Demonic Art. Getting old makes one forgetful."
Recently I had only been losing in unsightly ways, so I felt ashamed to face the master who had taught me. When I had barely managed to defeat Pafungdopae, I had secretly begun to think the Central Plains martial world was nothing special. Yet even though I had asked to be beaten, I had been thrashed like a dog on a summer day by Sama Geon, and now I was being burned on the thigh by someone claiming to be the master's friend. It made me realize I had truly been a frog in a well.
"Ahem. Hey."
"Yes?"
"Look, there was a misunderstanding, but it wasn't for long, and I really only touched you once. A man shouldn't tattle like a coward, right?"
The eccentric smiled slyly and blew on their finger. A sizzling sound came from the fingertip as the redness gradually faded.
"Touched me once? There's a mark left."
"That much will heal after applying some medicine and sleeping. Judging by your expression, it doesn't even seem to hurt that badly."
At those words, I took a deep breath, twisted my jaw, strained my neck, and exhaled endlessly. I pushed my eyes out as if they would pop, let tears and snot flow freely, and tensed every muscle until the veins stood out. My convincingly exaggerated act of suffering sent the eccentric rolling on the floor, laughing so hard their stomach might split.
"This kid is actually insane. Ah, I can't breathe from laughing."
"Huu... It hurt that much."
"Fine, I admit it. It hurt that much. Ah, how did it come to this? All the ones who should be in the Demonic Cult are in strange places, while someone like Cho Yak is there instead."
The eccentric suddenly sat up, cracked their neck, and stretched.
"Huu. So, sorry for the misunderstanding. How should I apologize?"
"Please teach me about Guyeongmun."
"I'm the one most curious about what that is right now, you brat. From the way you're asking, it seems your master didn't teach you either."
"Then why did you capture us?"
"I saw the letter Jegal Ji left behind and thought orthodox lackeys had followed. Well, I was planning to look into this Guyeongmun thing myself anyway, so if you're curious, follow along."
The eccentric rose and came over to untie the ropes binding my hands and feet. While I clenched and unclenched my numb palms to restore circulation, they glanced to one side as if remembering something and muttered.
"Ah, but what about those two?"
Following their gaze, I saw Dang Ju-yeon and Yeom Ho-yun tied up with gags in their mouths, trembling. Before I could say anything, the eccentric spoke as if tossing the words out.
"If word gets out it'll be troublesome. Should I just kill them all?"
My eyes met Dang Ju-yeon's first, then Yeom Ho-yun's. For some reason I found it difficult to meet those eyes, so I closed mine. Through the gags came the sound of rough, heavy breathing. I shook my head.
"No."
"Why?"
I hesitated for a moment, searching for an answer, then slowly opened my mouth.
"The master said she wanted to see them once."