The Value of a Single Word (4)

The lodging discount was hardly a burden to me. Money flowed in plenty from the inn and the trading house, and the rent from the paddies and fields I owned—not to mention the land and buildings I leased out in other cities—was nothing to scoff at either.

So instead of refusing her offer outright, I walked into the inn with her and settled into a seat in the corner.

"W-why are you staring at me like that?"

"No particular reason. Just curious about something, Lady Chae. What exactly are you doing here?"

The Chae Jin sitting across from me was the elder sister of Chae Ryeon—another protagonist of Cheonsang Myeongwol—the eldest disciple of Moon Lotus Pavilion, and a master formidable enough to bear the epithet Moonlight Blade in the murim.

So why was such a powerhouse folded into a corner of an inn at the edge of this sleepy little village?

Come to think of it, quite a while had already passed since Chae Jin took up residence in my inn. In all that time, apart from stepping out for brief spells, she had done nothing in particular—just stayed cooped up in her room.

Which meant she didn't seem the type to have come hunting secret realms, spiritual elixirs, or magic beasts.

The moment my gaze settled on her, Chae Jin slyly looked away.

"Well, if it's sect business or something to do with the Murim Alliance, I suppose there's no need for you to tell me..."

"N-no, it's nothing like that. This is a purely personal matter of mine."

A personal reason, from Chae Jin? I sipped my tea and turned the thought over. She wasn't a protagonist herself, but she played a fairly important role in the main story of Chae Ryeon, one of the protagonists all the same.

I was a devoted member of the Sayun Dan, and because I loved Sayun, I knew every story thread connected to her—but that didn't mean I'd never played anyone else.

You have to know a character inside out to raise them properly, after all. I'd carried the rest of the Cheonsang Myeongwol cast through to the very end and built most of them up to near-final specs.

Which only made me cherish Sayun all the more.

I'd gone through an absolute hell raising her, so why on earth was every other character so absurdly easy to level?

And that meant I couldn't help knowing a thing or two about Chae Jin as well.

In Chae Ryeon's main story, Chae Jin was the wall her younger sister had to overcome.

Half-sisters though they were, they were both daughters of the Blade Emperor, Chae Seongho—which made them rivals to inherit both the Moonlight Blade Technique and the leadership of Moon Lotus Pavilion itself.

And one more thing.

She was also a character with her own deep ties to Hongseong Gate.

"To cross blades with the Sun-Falling Sword?"

At the mention of Hong Ryeon—the object of that deep connection—Chae Jin's eyes trembled ever so slightly.

"Hnnnnnnm..."

Chae Jin had made Hong Ryeon, the Sun-Falling Sword, her rival for life.

And back in the Murim Alliance, the two of them had fought constantly. A perfect match for one another—that was the simplest way to describe the relationship between Hong Ryeon and Chae Jin.

But precisely because of that, Chae Jin had always carried a quiet regret.

Their sparring record sat with Hong Ryeon narrowly in the lead. And one day, that record became one that could never be broken again.

Because Hongseong Gate had been annihilated—and Hong Ryeon had been caught up in it and died.

Remembering the event where Chae Jin drank herself silly and bawled her heart out missing Hong Ryeon, I rapped my knuckles on the table.

"Beating the Sun-Falling Sword in a duel is no small feat, I'd say."

Right now the win rate favored Hong Ryeon. In that position, would she even accept a match with Chae Jin? Just as only the final victory counts as the true one—why would the one in the lead bother granting a formal duel request?

Chae Jin clearly knew it too. Dark clouds rolled across her sharp, pretty features in an instant.

"It isn't easy. She hardly ever takes the bait, no matter how you dangle it."

Well, that was Hong Ryeon's nature—unless you crossed a certain line, she'd simply laugh it off.

"Touching Hongseong Gate would provoke her, though."

For Hong Ryeon, the line that must never be crossed was Hongseong Gate itself. Step over it, and you'd get to see Hong Ryeon with her eyes flipped inside out.

There was no way Chae Jin didn't know that, and yet she still refused to cross it. As I watched her in something like wonder, she broke into a knowing smile.

"Oh, come now. How could I do that to a fellow orthodox sect? Besides, Moon Lotus Pavilion is a venerable, time-honored great sect. Do you really think Chae Jin, its eldest disciple, would stoop to such a thing?"

She thought of Hong Ryeon as a rival, all right—but she had no wish to betray her duty as a member of the orthodox ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠path. Then again, had she lacked that pride as a scion of a great sect, she'd never have offered to teach me martial arts in exchange for a lodging discount in the first place.

She'd have just attacked me outright and shaken the money loose, or puffed herself up and demanded to stay for free.

Chae Jin thrust out her impressively aggressive chest with pride. Just as she had in Cheonsang Myeongwol, that bold, unapologetically proud bearing of hers was beautiful—genuinely cool, really.

I took another sip of tea.

"If she were still in the Murim Alliance, you could have picked a fight over official business and gotten your match that way..."

But Hong Ryeon hadn't gone to the Alliance—she'd stayed at Hongseong Gate—so that route was closed to her?

Watching her, I let out a small snort.

That one's probably my fault.

After reading the letter I'd sent Sayun, Hong Ryeon had grown wary of me, and somewhere in the process she'd decided Sayun needed to be raised further—so she'd left to hunt down spiritual elixirs.

Which naturally meant she couldn't go lounging around in the Murim Alliance.

And needless to say, that was an extremely welcome development as far as I was concerned. I mean, what did helping the Alliance pay—a handful of coppers? When Hongseong Gate was in real danger, the Alliance hadn't lifted a finger.

No—to be precise, they hadn't been able to move.

The Iron Blood Gate's assault had been just that sudden...

"Anyway... I've been lying in wait here, hoping for a chance to duel her, but the chance never comes. I even called on Hongseong Gate and was turned away at the door..."

Hooooooh. A deep sigh spilled out of her. The sight of those slumped shoulders was honestly a little pitiful.

"But even granting you a duel here, there'd be no official witness, would there? What you're after, Lady Chae, is an official result on record—isn't it?"

A friendly match, or a life-and-death bout. Anything informal would need nothing of the sort—but a duel fought to be entered into the records required a witness. Which was only natural.

A victory meant nothing unless it could be proven.

Cheonsang Myeongwol had woven this very thing into its story through a system called the dueling grounds.

In other words—if Hong Ryeon never went to the Murim Alliance, the duel Chae Jin wanted could never come to pass.

"From where I'm standing, the Sun-Falling Sword looks likely to stay here for quite some time."

"Ah... that won't do at all."

Chae Jin fretted at her thumbnail, her flustered unease plain to see.

Well, of course—the eldest disciple of Moon Lotus Pavilion, a great sect with real influence in the murim, couldn't while away eternity ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠waiting in the middle of the countryside.

"...Ah. Wait. The witness could be you, Innkeeper Yu."

"Hm? Would I even be allowed?"

"You'd hardly favor one side over the other between Hongseong Gate and Moon Lotus Pavilion. And you're not a murim man, either."

"I'm a Seomhwachon villager first and foremost, you know..."

And a card-carrying member of the Sayun Dan, at that. Which meant I was bound to be rather partial toward Hongseong Gate, no?

When I gave her a long look, Chae Jin winked one eye and curled her lips into a bewitching smile.

"But you did learn our entry art, didn't you? The Chae Family Tai Chi Chuan. So you've got a foot planted in Moon Lotus Pavilion as well."

"Does it really work like that?"

"But of course~!"

Clearly delighted with her own brilliance, Chae Jin snapped her fingers and grinned ear to ear.

In my eyes, it looked less like a masterstroke and more like the worst kind of bad move.

"Well, setting that aside—I'll grant you the discount. I'll knock off from your bill whatever Moon Lotus Pavilion's entry fee would cost."

"Oh my~! Much obliged. Then while ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I'm staying here, I'll teach you with everything I have. A rare opportunity, you know—to be instructed by me, Chae Jin, the Moonlight Blade herself."

"That is, if I actually wanted to become a murim man."

"Hehe. Do you have any idea how uncommon it is to receive personal, intensive instruction from me? Treat it as an honor."

I blew a raspberry in her direction, and Chae Jin stuck out her tongue and flashed a cheeky grin.

"Fine, fine, point taken. But even if I do stand as your witness, you've skipped right past the most important part."

That's right—the problem was Hong Ryeon. A duel like this died the moment Hong Ryeon simply said no.

So how exactly did she plan to reel her in? When I put the question to her, she smirked.

"Oh, there are ways for everything."

What ways, exactly?

Something about her smirking face—and the look she was leveling at me—set off alarm bells, so I moved to cut her off first.

"If you're thinking of using me to provoke her, I'd give up now, if I were you. The Sun-Falling Sword and I are not nearly as close as you seem to imagine."

"...Eh? We're not?"

Knew it. Called it.

"No. We are not."

She'd apparently cooked up some strange notions from what she'd seen the other day. Hong Ryeon and I were nothing of the sort. Honestly—how long had we even known each other? How would we have ended up like that?

The instant I denied it flatly, the Chae Jin who'd looked so imperious a heartbeat ago shed that air entirely and began fidgeting, utterly at a loss.

"Huh? Doesn't this mean it's all completely ruined...?"

She wore the face of someone about to burst into tears, and I gave her my best smile.

Well, tough luck.

Sulking as though the world itself had come crashing down around her, Chae Jin shuffled back to her room. And I went to mine. Whether she sulked or not, my list of tasks hadn't changed one bit.

I returned to my room to work, and once I'd knuckled down and finished, my thoughts drifted elsewhere. Naturally, that elsewhere was Sayun.

The reason Sayun was stuck right now had to be that she hadn't yet gone through her enlightenment event.

My guess had been that instruction at Hongseong Gate would carry her past it, but it seemed Hong Ryeon hadn't guided her quite that far.

Just teach her already, would you.

"Well... if she keeps wandering in the dark long enough, someone will teach her eventually... but while she's floundering like this, wouldn't it be kinder to toss her at least a thread to follow?"

I called to mind the koans that had appeared during Sayun's enlightenment event.

Dripping water pierces stone.

Steady, like raindrops wearing their way through rock. If that was the first koan, then the second was this: even persistence must know its measure, and even training must know when to stop.

After Hongseong Gate's annihilation—furious that the people of her sect, her family in all but blood, had been slaughtered to the last—Sayun threw herself into her training until she coughed up blood. She pushed past every limit and collapsed. And when a physician saved her life, this was the koan he gave her:

She who, drunk on fury over her sect's destruction, had all but forgotten everything Hongseong ever taught her—heard that single line, and enlightenment broke over her like a wave. From then on, she could finally wield the Meteor Fist as it was meant to be used.

"The real question is whether this will be enough for Sayun to reach that enlightenment..."

From her last letter, I could at least predict that she'd take my words seriously.

But just because I sent a letter, did that mean she would actually gain enlightenment from it?

"Well..."

If she couldn't manage it, the star guide-makers would have that part covered, surely. Best not to obsess over what was beyond my reach for now.

Wring a chicken's neck though you might, dawn still comes—and today, as every day, the morning sun rose right on schedule.

I had gotten up a little earlier than usual and headed for the backyard. It was to train the Five Animal Frolics.

"Yaaawn... Oh! Master, you're up already?"

"I am."

I gave Jeomsoi a cursory reply as she greeted me, then slowly began moving my body, exactly as the Taoist and Sayun had shown me just the day before.

Watching from a corner with a broom in hand, one of the servants murmured in wonder.

"Just moving like that builds inner energy? Will it let you fly through the sky like those murim folk?"

"Well... it's possible, I suppose."

Though it wouldn't spike wildly in the late game the way the divine arts did, nor climb in a steep curve like demonic arts. It was simply a matter of laying one stone at a time, patiently, until the pagoda stood complete.

By the time I'd finished one full round of the Five Animal Frolics, my body had warmed through with a pleasant heat. I considered running through the Chae Family Tai Chi Chuan once more... but breakfast preparations would be in full swing. That could wait until later.

"...Why are you just playing house out here?"

"Huh?"

Déjà vu? Pretty sure I heard almost this exact line yesterday?

I lifted my head—and there stood Chae Jin, dressed not in her usual clingy leggings but in a loose, billowy skirt that reached her knees, wrapped in a thick outer coat.

According to Cheonsang Myeongwol's lore, she was hopeless in the mornings, and sure enough, she still looked half-asleep—regarding me not with her trademark provocative, sharp-eyed stare, but with a blank, grumpy pout.

And then.

Just like last time, she leapt down from on high without a moment's hesitation.

"If you've joined Moon Lotus Pavilion, shouldn't you be training in our entry art, the Chae Family Tai Chi Chuan, before anything else? Why are you doing the Five Animal Frolics first? No—more to the point, why only the Frolics and then you try to slip back ins—hey! When a person is talking to you, you're supposed to look them straight in the eye!"

Even with that sleepy face, apparently she couldn't hold it in any longer. She seized me by the cheek with a squeal, and I did my level best to answer with perfect composure.

"When you're wearing a skirt like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that—rather than what you usually wear—I'd advise being a touch more careful about leaping down from high places."

"What does that even—"

A skirt, and a leap from above.

Naturally, everything underneath was on full display.

A first-rate martial artist who revealed her full cruelty and coldbloodedness whenever she crossed blades with an enemy, and who always carried herself with prideful, unshakable grace—it was precisely these occasional airheaded moments, the gap between them and her usual self, that had made Chae Jin so popular. And here she was, showing off that very same gap!

"...Did you see?"

Fidgeting, her face flushed scarlet, Chae Jin asked in a voice so small she seemed to be trying to crawl into a hole.

I mean, honestly, what she usually wears is far more scandalous than that—was it really worth the fuss...

Anyway.

"I am a gentleman, you see. I closed my eyes."

Apparently satisfied with that answer, her embarrassment seemed to ebb a little.

Though it looked like it would be quite a while yet before those crimson cheeks found their natural color again.