The Eternal Refuge
A wistful smile lingered on Mu Yun's lips. He had given names to his two friends himself.
They truly lived up to their names.
Yeo Dan had lived a short but fiercely brilliant life, like the dawn itself, while Yeo Hwi had endured the longest. After their parting, he must have lived at least fifty more years. And Mu Yun himself had been granted a second chance at life.
Drenched in regret until now, Mu Yun slowly rose to his feet. It had been a millennium—no, even longer—since he'd last seen his friend, and that reunion had unraveled much of the knot in his chest. Now, he had to head back into Chim-ju city and face whatever awaited him. Fresh resolve burned in his eyes.
But in that moment, as his gaze swept down over the city below, Mu Yun's widening eyes suddenly ballooned like saucers.
That... that's it!
His bulging eyes began meticulously scanning Chim-ju city. After a long while, his gaze, tracing a certain line as if pursuing something, froze in place.
Mu Yun's eyes, dazed for a time, grew misty. Thick tears soon streamed endlessly down his cheeks. Suddenly, an uncontrollable laugh burst from his lips.
"Heh heh heh! ...Khuk! Pfft! Puahaha!"
Now he understood. The riddle he'd dismissed as nonsense was indeed Yeo Hwi's doing. And the reason for that waterway snaking through Chim-ju city. Who had carved it out.
A while later, the laughter that had echoed across Mang-san's peak finally subsided. Mu Yun's eyes pierced straight toward one spot in the city.
Toward the massive boulder standing prominently in the heart of Chim-ju.
The very megalith he'd eyed curiously the day before.
There it is.
Mu Yun summoned the pinnacle of his lightness skill.
Pap!
But his trajectory veered not toward the boulder in Chim-ju, but into the depths of Mang-san's forest. Toward the cave where he and Yeo Hwi had hidden on the day Yeo Dan died.
Now it was time to meet yet another friend—Yeo Hwi.
＊ ＊ ＊
Moments later, at the mouth of a cave on Mang-san.
A dense pine forest, thriving for a thousand years, blocked the entrance, but Mu Yun found it effortlessly. These trees were probably planted by that rascal Yeo Hwi too. Back then, the cave mouth had been wide open.
"Those who seek the dawn shall behold me."
Seeking the dawn meant climbing Mang-san, where Yeo Dan's ashes had been scattered upon his death. From there, the waterway sprawling across Chim-ju came into full view. That twisting channel, unmistakably Yeo Hwi's handiwork, was a map pointing to the cave they'd chosen as their refuge—a path prepared for any contingency. A place known only to the three of them.
A lightless tunnel of pure darkness, where even after dozens of traversals, they often lost their way. So they'd mapped it out. The waterway's flow marked the route exactly.
The massive boulder beside the waterway indicated one of their many hideouts.
A laugh bubbled up again.
That guy!
Only Yeo Hwi would concoct something as absurd as carving a river through the heart of the city just to leave a map.
Mu Yun lit a hasty torch, recalled the waterway's path etched in his mind, and stepped into the cave one foot at a time. He couldn't contain the excitement and passion trembling in his chest.
How heartbreaking it had been to part without a proper word, caught off guard by the sudden turn of events. Yeo Hwi must have felt the same. And since it stemmed from Mu Yun's own actions, the guilt must have gnawed at him deeply.
As he ventured deeper into the cave, Mu Yun's eyes sparkled.
Here it is.
The spot indicated by the boulder beside the waterway. In this rainy region, even the cave pooled with water in places. This was one such puddle, perpetually filled.
Swim across the pool and veer right—there lay a small alcove. Invisible from outside the water, it was a space they'd stumbled upon during playful splashing. Spanning three or four jang, large enough for six people to dwell in.
Not fully sealed, it couldn't store valuables securely. But Yeo Hwi would surely have left some inscription on the walls, legible even after a millennium.
Holding the torch high in one hand, Mu Yun waded in. The moment his feet touched the water, bone-chilling cold enveloped him. He circulated his inner energy to warm himself and swam against the current.
Shaaak! Shaak!
Reaching the secluded corner and emerging, Mu Yun's torch-holding eyes wavered. A cursory glance revealed no unusual marks on the cave walls.
As unease crept in, he shook his head vigorously.
No! It's certain. The waterway, that stone—no one but Yeo Hwi could have done it.
Steeling himself, he scoured the walls and floor meticulously. After a long search, the torch's flame dwindled like his fading hope.
Even after the yellow flicker consumed itself, plunging the space into darkness long ago, Mu Yun refused to give up. With eyes blazing like beacons in place of the extinguished flame, he ran his hands over every inch of the walls.
Gritting his teeth, eyes wide, he pressed on.
It's here. It has to be!
His hands grew caked in dirt, his clothes soaked with sweat, but he didn't stop rummaging the walls.
Yet after over an hour, scouring every surface yielded nothing. Much later, Mu Yun finally collapsed spread-eagled on the floor.
"Hoo! Hoo!"
He panted roughly, steadying his aching heart as best he could.
Moments later, he sprang up. Clenching his fists, he ground his teeth and shook his head repeatedly, rallying his resolve.
It's here. I just couldn't find it.
The colossal waterway matched the cave's labyrinth perfectly. No one else could have created such an unprecedented channel. Perhaps it was nearby.
But today, rushing here, he had only the spare torch left for the return swim.
I'll come back.
Guided by the water's sound, he approached to wash his muddied hands. As he prepared to reenter, a puzzled look crossed his face.
My hands...?
In the pitch black, his freshly washed hands emitted a faint blue glow.
Mu Yun's eyes quivered. Faint as it was, he couldn't mistake that scent tickling his nose or the hue.
Decades of seeing and smelling it.
Cheon-seol Cheong-ok!
The jade discovered by chance in the eternal snow mountains west of Sin-gang, thanks to Yeo Hwi. Unearthed while testing ghost sword energy by cleaving a glacier.
Loving its subtle blue and fragrance, he'd planned to cut a few pieces, but Yeo Hwi hauled the whole slab, tiling his bedroom and study with it.
Dustings of that powder coated the walls.
His dry eyes welled up again. His swelling chest could only whisper his friend's name.
The one he'd soon meet.
Yeo Hwi.
No more doubts. He just had to find it.
Without the torch, he examined the walls anew. Faint blue shimmered in the spots he'd disturbed.
Now, think like Yeo Hwi, not himself. Yeo Hwi would have anticipated the long passage of time.
Others might stumble here by chance. He'd account for that.
No casual path to stumble upon. Nor intricate mechanisms that time might erode.
Something only I can find, yet barring intruders...?
After deep contemplation, enlightenment flashed in Mu Yun's eyes. The pattern formed by the subtle blue glow resembled an old entrance.
A shiver struck his mind.
That's it. The secret passage in my room.
The one Yeo Hwi had insisted on building for Mu Lun's safety.
Mu Yun's gaze shot to a corner of the wall. The exact spot.
Rushing over, he inspected closely. His lips curved up.
Here.
Upon scrutiny, it wasn't solid rock—a hole plugged with stone. Digging it out revealed an empty space within.
Mu Yun calmed his pounding heart.
If there are four passages inside...
His hunch now certainty, as he navigated the narrow tunnel, a meaningful smile played on his lips moments later.
Got it.
The same structure as before. Still cautious, he confirmed his surroundings and proceeded slowly into the second passage as expected.
A faint memory surfaced, bringing a soft smile. Why Yeo Hwi had made the second one the true path.
"Why the second one?"
"Just because. My old name was Jang-i, remember?"
Soon, after traversing the long passage, the faint blue deepened in hue. Mu Yun's trembling heart hammered endlessly.
Then, suddenly, his gaping mouth refused to close in astonishment. Eyes filled with bafflement scanned the three-or-four-jang space.
Plopping down on the floor, Mu Yun muttered absently—the very phrase Yeo Hwi uttered whenever pulling off something outrageous.
"You mad bastard!"
Nothing else came to mind. He'd replicated his old room from Cheok-go-ryeon exactly.
The bed, furniture, bookshelves stuffed with silk-bound books and bamboo slips—all framed by walls entirely lined with Cheon-seol Cheong-ok. Wooden elements had been refashioned entirely from blue jade.
Then, two new additions caught his eye, smack in the center: a pair of small blue jade statues.
One carved their younger selves—Yeo Hwi, Yeo Dan, and him—drinking together. Those exact faces chilled his heart.
We've finally met again.
He turned to the adjacent statue. A familiar face, but Yeo Hwi in a slightly altered form, dancing. Likely after Mu Lun's departure.
The gesture toward the heavens from his cherished image in Mu Yun's mind. A deep smile seemed to urge him to shake off the past and embrace a new world.
Tears shimmered alongside a faint laugh.
You stayed young until the very end.
As he caressed the statues endlessly, a sun-like blaze pierced the darkness, searing his chest. Overwhelmed by surging passion, his lips twisted uncontrollably.
"Kkhuk!"
This space, crafted by a friend across a millennium's gulf, for him alone.
But his sobs weren't from gratitude. From the agony Yeo Hwi must have endured creating it.
You fool! Why go this far?
From the riddle spread to guide him, to the waterway, to recreating this space identically—how much time had that stoic man spent agonizing and hurting over a friend he'd simply let go?
Yeo Dan had left to save him and Yeo Hwi. He had done the same to save Yeo Hwi.
Yeo Hwi alone remained. Tormented by guilt, he'd spent countless days in regret.
Preparing this must have festered his heart raw. Each gleaming blue jade block moved would have piled guilt upon guilt.
The chisel carving the statues became nails stabbing his chest. The words he left behind, faded by dried tears.
His friend, bearing that crushing weight alone through endless years. Haunted by the guilt of sending an old man away.
Everything before his eyes screamed it true. Piercing heartache clawed at him.
I should have said it... that one thing!
He should have said it. Not to tell him to forget and live on.
To say he would forget and live on. That it would ease his heart. That Mu Yun would do it, so Yeo Hwi should too.
But he hadn't spoken those crucial words.
That lingering regret conjured his beloved image, igniting his heart.
It unearthed the longing he'd buried deep.
Endless yearning cried out his name.
"Yeo Hwi!"
A longing he'd vowed to cherish alone until death. To unravel only in the afterlife.
But the bellow surging from his depths poured forth resentment.
"Why, you idiot! Why? Just live free—why torment yourself like this when it would have freed me too, you fool!"
Tears streamed, twisting his face. Only then did his churning heart vomit its resentment.
A low wail rose, unleashing the indelible pain.
"Huuuung! Huuung! Kkhuk!"
Tears and snot soaked his cheeks as a tidal wave of wistful emotion swept his soul. The traces left by his friend, conveying raw pain atop longing, left no choice.
For a very long time.
Only the star-like glow of the blue jade soothed his overflowing sentiments.