Parting (2)
Time waits for no one, not even those lost in agonizing deliberation. While Jegal Ohae trembled in denial of reality, the day before Sima Mancheon was set to leave the Jegal Family Manor arrived.
...To be precise, since midnight had passed while she huddled under the covers in turmoil, the sun would rise in the morning, and Mancheon would be gone.
Faced with this sudden parting, all Ohae could do was accept it and make memories with him in whatever short time remained. But she didn't. To be exact, she couldn't.
To Ohae, the idea that Mancheon—whom she'd believed would be with her forever—was leaving was simply impossible. It was on par with the sun vanishing from the sky.
Candy was sweet because of Mancheon. Every day felt joyful because of him. She pressed her hand to her chest, feeling her heart pound. Even her sense of being truly alive was all thanks to him.
...There was no way she could accept it. A life without Mancheon held no meaning for her—just a colorless, empty world.
[Hey... listen... what if you used the power of the dragon...]
"No."
She rejected the insidious whisper of the vile black serpent that preyed on her weakness in a single stroke. Her memories were hazy, but after losing consciousness to that snake's voice, Mancheon had been badly hurt. She would never do what that evil snake demanded.
"When the mind is set, forget attachments. When the body weakens, restore your energy."
[W-wait a second! I'm doing this for you...!!]
"When the mind dies, the spirit lives. When yang flourishes, yin dissipates."
Reciting the incantation of the Quanzhen Orthodox Inner Cultivation Method Mancheon had taught her, she drove the black snake away. Whether from the inner method's power or not, a clear energy spread through her body, easing her anxious heart somewhat.
The pure Daoist energy and her happy memories with Mancheon pushed back the serpent's whispers. The Quanzhen Orthodox Inner Cultivation Method was the very first martial art Mancheon had taught her. The one she'd practiced the hardest. There was no room for the black snake to interfere.
Having chased away the pesky serpent, Ohae opened the window and gazed up at the beautiful night sky filled with stars.
...Truth be told, Ohae didn't like martial arts. Or rather, she neither liked nor disliked them. She just wasn't interested.
If Mancheon heard that, he'd probably yell, "What?! You little punk! I poured my soul into teaching you, and that's how you feel?!" and flick her forehead. But there was nothing for it.
To Ohae, martial arts were worth less than a sweet, tasty candy. Yet she'd trained diligently because Manchon's eyes sparkled so brightly whenever he talked about them.
She stared at the stars filling the night sky. They twinkled just like Manchon's eyes. For Ohae, who had only ever seen eyes filled with contempt and disdain, the sight of human eyes shining like those stars had been a tremendous shock.
She wanted to keep seeing those sparkling eyes of his. She wanted to know more—so much more—about what he loved. That's why she'd trained so hard.
Manchon probably never realized that when he peered into her eyes, she was peering right back into his.
The stars filled the sky completely. The twinkling lights obscured the heavens themselves.
"...Manchon."
Mancheon Guae—deceive heaven and cross the sea. The first characters she'd ever learned to write.
The girl hurled herself out the window. It was only the second floor, but that didn't matter. She spun once in midair and landed safely on the ground.
I don't know... I don't know anything... But I want to see you.
Her legs moved before her thoughts could catch up. Her body propelled forward. At some point, the boy who'd firmly rooted himself in her heart had become someone she ran to meet.
"Manchon... that bastard left me a monkey instead of a person."
It was 2 a.m. Jegal Yang, replaying the day's go match under the glow of a night-luminescent pearl in the courtyard, watched in disbelief as Ohae—whom he'd assumed was fast asleep—leapt from her window and bolted away. He took a sip of his tea in exasperation.
Slurp~
She'd successfully snuck into the room where Mancheon slept, but Ohae had no idea what to do next.
Snore~ Snooore~ Snore-snore~
She gazed down at his chest, rising and falling rhythmically with each breath. The urge to curl up on him like a cat, listen to his heartbeat, and fall asleep tugged at her heart.
She shook her head vigorously. Sleeping in his arms would be blissful, but that bliss would be fleeting. Her top priority was to be with Mancheon.
She recalled his words from their first festival together.
If you desperately want something, you have to seize it yourself.
...But how? How could she have Mancheon?
She clutched her small, cute head in frustration, but no answers came. Time was running out.
...Time? A tiny lightbulb flickered above Ohae's head. Pure imagination, of course.
Manchon had said most problems resolved themselves with time. Even if nothing came to mind now, it would eventually. She just needed to buy time so he couldn't leave while she figured out how to be with him forever.
Her spinning vision landed on his staff. The one he used everywhere because of his lame leg. Without it, he couldn't move. He couldn't leave.
...A childish notion, straight out of a naive kid's playbook. A moment's thought would reveal he could just take another staff, but Ohae didn't think. She fled.
In the end, she ran away. A desperate escape into fantasy, pinning hopes on a tiny miracle. All or nothing—and nothing was the safe bet. But clutching the staff like a treasure, she ran anyway, praying for that slim chance.
Jang Sambung, watching from the shadows with a wry smile, considered waking Mancheon but shook her head.
Sima Bu was a cold, ruthless man, but he doted on his family like trash with two faces. He wouldn't let his precious second son pair with a girl who could turn into a monster at any moment.
...Parting quietly was best for everyone. She looked up at the night sky. A damn beautiful night, brimming with countless stars. A night that made her miss the cigarettes she'd quit while guarding the young master.
"Jang Sambung, where's my staff?"
"Beats me."
"Don't just say you don't know—go find it!"
He swung at her head like always for her nonsense, but his hand met empty air. No staff. Where the hell was it? He'd set it right there before bed. It didn't grow legs and walk off in the night. Someone took it. But who?
Checking the floor where he'd left it last night, he spotted a single strand of long black hair. He picked it up. Silky smooth, with a faint pleasant scent.
A sigh escaped him.
...Ohae took it.
Watching Manchon's slumped back as he crouched silently fiddling with the hair, Jang Sambung checked the carriage schedule.
"You've got a little time left. Want to look for it?"
"...Nah. Just give me the brush and snack pouch."
‧ ‧ ‧
Ohae never showed, not even as he boarded the carriage and departed the Jegal Family Manor. In the jolting carriage, he fiddled with his empty hands.
She was a sleepy kid who napped all the time. Probably hugging his staff somewhere right now, fast asleep. The image made him chuckle softly.
He'd started teaching her on a whim, like a pastime peanut. But he'd given her too much affection.
As the carriage rolled farther from the manor, memories of time with Ohae flashed through his mind. Teasing her by taping a paper to her head that read "(Light) Did absolutely nothing all day (Blessing)" while she lounged eating snacks and napping.
Or the time her plate split in two when he tried force-feeding her spinach because she was picky...
Thinking back, it was absurd. Who splits a table in half instead of just flipping it? He'd really suffered.
...And the time she'd learned to make flower crowns from Grandfather Jegal's granddaughters and proudly placed her first one on his head.
All the hardships and joys flickered by. Unable to hold back, he stuck his head out the carriage window to look behind.
Maybe she'd chase after him late? Call his name?
...He hoped, but nothing was there. No sight, no sound.
"Want me to turn the carriage around now?"
Jang Sambung teased with a sly grin. He knew damn well he wouldn't, the punk. If he had his staff, he'd whack her one. Lucky bastard.
"Turn around? ...Gotta go home."
The carriage rattled onward. Leaning back blankly, he spotted tiny snowflakes drifting through the window.
Upon hearing Mancheon had left the Jegal Family Manor—like news of Guan Yu's death to the Red Hare—Ohae, who had shut herself in her room refusing food and sleep, received a silk pouch from Jegal Yang.
"Take it. Mancheon said to give this to you."
A red silk pouch embroidered in golden thread: Sima Mancheon. Undoubtedly his snack pouch.
A faint focus returned to Ohae's darkened eyes. With small hands, she untied it and checked the contents. It bulged with silver coins. She ignored them. What mattered was the letter buried among them.
With trembling hands, she unfolded and read it. Manchon's familiar handwriting.
Heading home. Stuffed some pocket money in the snack pouch. Buy whatever you want to eat—no holding back. You love sweets, that's fine, but eat your veggies too. Brush your teeth before bed. Don't kick off the covers just 'cause it's hot. If you're sick, don't tough it out—tell someone. I said practice martial arts hard to repay me, but that was a joke. Don't sweat it. Live doing what you love. Don't mope 'cause I'm gone—eat well and be happy. Meeting you was fun. It made me happy.
—To my beloved disciple, Sima Mancheon—
Tears fell, staining the letter. She didn't need this. She wanted to scream for him to stay by her side and tear it up—but she couldn't.
Meeting you was fun... It made me happy... Then why leave? Why...?
She knew he hadn't left because he wanted to. But she hated him. Hated him for promising forever and leaving anyway. Hated the world for tearing Mancheon from her.
‧ ‧ ‧
Two years passed since Mancheon left the Jegal Family Manor. Ohae was now thirteen.
Compared to before, her treatment had changed beyond recognition. Her talent was too outstanding and captivating to ignore forever. Now hailed as the Jegal Family's hope, the one to bear the dragon's name after Jegal Yang, the Jegal Family's young dragon—Yuryong—her name proudly entered the family registry as a main branch member.
...What a load of nonsense, Ohae thought.
She felt fondness for Jegal Yang, who had kept his promise and taken her as a disciple, and for Jegal Yeon, her caring older sister-friend. But the Jegal Family itself? No feelings whatsoever. No interest.
Now they blathered about blood ties, but it stirred nothing in her.
She gazed blankly at the sky. Clear, not a cloud in sight. Strange as it sounded, she hated clear skies. She wished clouds would veil it.
She reached out to cover the sky, but of course, it remained uncovered.
She'd tried to be happy, as Mancheon said. Ate lots of candy, drew pictures, made friends. But...
The greatest pain of unhappiness is having known happiness once. Memories with Mancheon were sweeter than any candy, filling her heart so fully that all else paled.
Before, she'd lived unaware of her misery—because she'd never been happy. She'd just existed day by day. But Mancheon taught her happiness. Filled her up. Now she compared "happiness" and "misery." In the end, she needed Mancheon. Without him, she couldn't be happy.
Jegal Yang, sparring against about twenty second-rate warriors—including a few at first-rate entry—won with ease. Watching Ohae blankly reach for the sky, he marveled purely.
At thirteen, late first-rate... I was called a genius, but this is honestly astonishing. Even more impressive: at that age, with such achievements, she's not satisfied. I like that.
He'd originally planned not to teach this "martial art" to Jegal Family members, reserving it for the beggar elder who'd taught him and his go buddy.
...But the urge to teach her writhed within. How strong would she get? Strong enough to fight me?
"The Jegal Family is known for weak martial arts. So why am I, a Jegal, one of the Top 10 Masters? Know why others fear me?"
"......"
"Because I mastered the supreme footwork and the strongest palm technique."
He extended his right foot, drew back his hand, and channeled inner energy. The massive power gathered distorted space. Bending one leg, he traced a circle with his hand. Dragon-shaped energy surged with a thunderous roar.
Kangryong Yuhui — Regret of the Rising Dragon
The energy dragon from his palm roared past Ohae, shattering the wall to pieces.
Jegal Yang withdrew his surging inner energy and grinned proudly at her.
"What do you think? Want to learn it?"
"...If I learn that, can I get strong enough to cover the sky?"
If it were that rascal Mancheon, he'd probably go, "Woooah—!! Old man, that's awesome!! What's that? Teach me! Teach me! Mancheon gonna shoot dragon palms too!!" and throw a tantrum.
Jegal Yang missed him a little. Anyway, he met her endless blue eyes—perhaps the child of a dragon.
Teaching Dragon Subduing to a dragon's offspring... Ironic and amusing.
"I guarantee it. Master the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms, dominate the dragon within, and no one in the world can beat you—except me."