First Snow - 5
When night had fallen and Hong Ryeon was certain every one of her martial sisters was asleep, she slipped quietly from her room.
They had all agreed to visit Yu Wol together tomorrow, but the worry still gnawed at her. So surely a quick little trip wouldn't hurt? She would go, see his face for just a moment, and come back — with that thought, Hong Ryeon made her way slowly down the moonlit mountain path.
Perhaps it was the brightness of the night. The crimson petals of the Thousand-Day Plum Blossoms, in bloom all year round, caught the moonlight and lit her way, so that the road was easy to follow. Not that this much darkness meant anything to a master of her caliber.
With every step on the dirt path hardened by the coming winter, her pace quickened. Perhaps it was the longing to see him sooner, or perhaps it was the firm earth holding her feet so steadily — either way, she found herself liking this frozen ground. Only last winter, when the cold set in and the earth hardened like this, she had always found it dreary. Amused at how her heart had turned in barely a year's time, Hong Ryeon ran.
The Seomhwachon she reached was silent. She walked its deserted, peaceful streets, slipped into the inn, and flitted soundlessly around to the back yard. And when she looked up — no light burned in his office. This was the window where she could always find him when she came, and seeing it dark stung her chest more than she expected.
Without quite realizing it, Hong Ryeon laid a hand over her heart. Then she slipped quietly inside the inn. Moving softly so as not to be caught, she arrived before the door of the room where he had to be resting — and felt her heart give a small flutter. She hadn't thought of it that way on the way over, but standing here now, it felt oddly like a secret tryst.
Her breathing had grown uneven without her noticing. She took a deep breath and gently opened the door.
The room was warm. Even with fresh air drifting in through the cracked window, the heat lingered, coloring her cheeks. It was absolutely not, she told herself, because she had come to see a man in the dead of night and was flustered — and with that thought, she moved quietly toward the bed.
Lying there, asleep without a care in the world, he looked distinctly more comfortable than before. Medicine sat on the table beside the bed, with clear signs it had been drunk. Thank goodness. He must have woken and taken it. The physician had said it was nothing serious, and the symptoms she'd checked herself were no more than overwork and a chill — yet some sliver of anxiety had clung to her all the same, and only now did Hong Ryeon finally let it go.
She knelt down softly beside the bed, close enough to see his sleeping face in profile. The rise and fall of his chest beneath the blanket was a pleasant sight — even his faintly rough skin, even the large hand resting above the covers. Gazing at him, Hong Ryeon caught herself smiling bashfully, and then softly reached out to lay her hand on the back of his.
Large. And warm.
Drawing it gently toward her, cradling it in both her hands, she made no effort to hide the soft smile that rose unbidden. With these big hands of yours... you've always been looking after us, haven't you. And that was exactly why this big, rough hand was so unbearably dear to her.
After lingering over his hand a while, Hong Ryeon slowly let it go. Truthfully, she could have savored it far longer — but he needed his rest more than she needed this.
"Sleep well. And... tomorrow, let's see each other smiling."
Leaving behind only the scent of Thousand-Day Plum Blossoms, Hong Ryeon slipped quietly from his room.
It was around the time the pre-dawn moon climbed high. Chae Jin bolted upright in her bed, beads of sweat rolling down her forehead like strings of glass.
A rush of sudden dread left her unable to gather herself. Someone who trusted her, someone who had rooted for her, had collapsed. They said it was nothing more than overwork and a cold — and still, the unease would not leave her. She passed a hand across her face.
The dream from moments ago came surging back. Trust was something Chae Jin had never been able to rely on. To her, a terrible chain had resurfaced through that nightmare — a chain that had left no trace so long as he was there had shown itself only because he was gone, because he had fallen, and so she could do nothing but tremble in pain even inside a dream.
Given that, it was only natural that she went to find Yu Wol. Chae Jin walked the inn's corridor — so familiar now she could have navigated it blind — and gently opened the door of his room.
In one corner of the room, so like her own in layout, a man lay on the bed beside the window that opened toward Mount Hongseong. In the moonlight, his face held color again — life. The fatigue of the past days was dissolving under medicine and acupuncture, and as he slept as though he'd simply fainted, dead to the world, vitality was flowing back into him.
At the sight, the chain that had bound her mere moments before simply vanished, like river mist withering away in the morning sun. Ah. Thank goodness. Thank goodness.
Smiling, Chae Jin drew near. Just how exhausted did a man have to be, to sleep without stirring the slightest bit? The servant tending him earlier that night had said he'd woken just long enough to take his medicine before dropping off again — and she couldn't say how much she'd regretted not being able to speak with him then. But what could she do?
Chae Jin simply crouched at his bedside, heart full of tender regret. Bracing her arms on the bed, drawing her face close, she studied him in silence. Why was it, she wondered — why did merely looking at him like this make every trace of dread evaporate? Why did the simple sight of him recovering like this set her heart at ease? He truly is a remarkable man.
She raised a finger and gave his cheek a little poke. When his thick brow twitched faintly at the touch, Chae Jin laughed without a sound. Then she rose slowly and murmured as she slipped toward the door — because truthfully she wanted to stay longer, but she mustn't disturb his rest any further for no good reason.
"See you tomorrow."
And so, wearing a gentle smile, Chae Jin closed the door.
"...Just like always."
Since reaching the Transcendent realm, Geomseong could go several days without sleep and feel no ill effect — yet she did not forgo sleep altogether. But that sleep was brief, and so within the Hongseong Sect she was always the last to lie down and the first to rise. Today, however, she woke even earlier than usual.
Before the dawn stars had hidden themselves away — just as the moon prepared to yield its place to the sun — Geomseong rose and walked slowly from her room. Meeting the chill air, crossing the still-dark grounds of the Hongseong Sect, she arrived at the reception hall.
From here, the whole of Seomhwachon spread out below. Standing there, her eyes were fixed on a single spot in the village. And as she stared, her heart began, little by little, to pound. Why? Why does dread keep welling up inside me? Why? Why does the memory of losing everyone come back now, of all times?
She closed her eyes for a heartbeat. And by the time they opened, Geomseong's body was racing down the mountain like the wind.
For a Transcendent of the Sword Saint's caliber, slipping quietly into an inn like this was no trouble at all. She stood without ceremony before the room where Yu Wol lay, reached for the door — and found her hand frozen mid-air, to her own surprise. Is this... right?
But the hesitation vanished quickly. She was only coming to check on his condition; what could possibly be wrong with that? So she opened the door and stepped inside — and Geomseong smiled faintly. Because there lay the man, having kicked his blankets half off in his sleep.
Unlike before, he now slept soundly, his face at ease, and watching him, her anxiety melted away as gently as a midwinter snow dissolving under the warm skies of spring.
Geomseong stood at the door, regarding him in silence. To think this was the man who set her heart pounding so — and there he lay, sleeping the very picture of bliss. It struck her as insufferably sly, for no reason she could name. But stronger than that, far stronger, was the simple thought: thank goodness.
"...Well then. That is enough."
Murmuring it quietly, Geomseong took hold of the door. She had confirmed he was well; that was enough. Time to return. And yet somehow, her feet would not carry her away. The gaze she had fixed on him refused to turn back. After a long moment of watching him, Geomseong softly drew near — and, catching the kicked-askew blanket, drew it up slowly, tucked it properly around him, and looked down at his face. Why did the sight of his face set her heart at rest? Why did seeing him unharmed bring her such peace?
Then—
Creeeak...
A sound came from just outside the door. The servant, perhaps, coming to check on Yu Wol? Geomseong slipped swiftly out the window. It was a second-floor room, but to her, "high" hardly applied.
Once outside, just to be certain, she climbed a nearby tree and watched over his room — and sure enough, it was the servant who tended him, checking his temperature before withdrawing. Only after she had gone did Geomseong come down from the tree and press a hand to her chest. Even knowing that he was fine, her heart was still racing.
"..."
I sat up and passed a hand over my face in the sunlight spilling through the window. Unbelievable. Brought down by a mere cold. I'm so embarrassed I can hardly lift my head.
"Oh my? You're awake?"
Just then the door opened. It was Chae Jin, carrying a bowl of porridge; she came over to where I sat on the bed and reached out with a smile. Perhaps it was her cool hand settling on my forehead — embarrassment aside, I felt good.
"Your fever's come down a lot. Here, drink this."
What she held out was medicinal porridge.
"Honestly, I'd love to look after you properly, but the physician said a heavy meal right away would only set you back. So you start eating properly at lunch. Yohwan promised she's going to show off her skills... Still, what a relief. Do you have any idea how badly you scared me yesterday?"
"I'm sorry for all the trouble," I said around a mouthful of porridge. And I truly was sorry.
"Hehe. It's fine. Though you do need to rebuild your strength. I've already asked Moon Lotus Pavilion to send tonics over, and when they arrive, you are going to eat every last one. They're precious enough that only Father is allowed to have them."
"No, I'm quite all right."
"Please don't refuse—"
Just then, a knock sounded at the door.
"Come in."
The door opened, and in came none other than Geomseong — with Hong Ryeon and Sa Yun behind her. The crowd milling about outside the open door made it look as though every disciple of the Hongseong Sect had come calling.
"Innkeeper!!"
Sa Yun came racing over, worry written across her whole face. She gazed at me as if on the verge of tears, then seized my hand and squeezed it tight.
"Are you all right? You are, aren't you?"
"Haha. I've put you through worry, haven't I. I'm sorry."
"N-no, don't apologize! You're all better now, right?"
"Seems so. My body feels light as anything."
"Thank goodness..."
Her tearful face broke into a radiant smile, and Sa Yun held out a box. What's this?
"A wild ginseng root I happened to find yesterday! They say it's wonderful for the body, so make sure you chew it all up!"
Come now — it was only a cold, and now she's bringing wild ginseng.
"Yes. Finish all of that, and then have this too." Hong Ryeon stepped close, smiling, and offered another box. Inside glowed honey of a beautiful, shimmering crimson. This is Red Rock Honey. A stamina booster found only in the wild — one of the rare things that actually increased one's stamina when taken.
"Something this precious..."
"It isn't more precious than you." With that bright smile, Hong Ryeon spoke — and then Geomseong stepped forward. In her hands was a small pot, which she opened before me without ceremony; inside sat a dish of steamed meat. Medicinal herbs cooked in with it, carefully prepared — Yohwan's handiwork, by the look of it.
"...And what might this be?"
"Tiger Stew. A dish carrying the vigor of a tiger."
"One of the imperial restorative dishes — and I made it myself. Made from a tiger, exactly as the name suggests. The bones are steeping in liquor even now, so once it has matured, you shall have a cup of that each day as well."
She had brought it over at first light, it seemed, with Yohwan doing the cooking. And Geomseong went on to explain that by lending her own inner energy to the process, the imperial restorative had been readied in remarkably short order. No, wait — more importantly, when did you people even catch a tiger?
Bewildered, I stared at the treasury of tonics laid out before me — fare far too fine for the likes of me. Just then, the physician entered with his bowl of medicine, took in the spread, and chuckled.
"Eat all of it. It's all good for you."
At the physician's word, everyone nodded — and I resolved to simply eat, and ask no questions.