What Matters — 2
The harvest — the season when a year's labor finally bore its fruit — could only be called a blessing. All the more so when that harvest was a bountiful one.
And for me, gathering in that fruit as the village's landlord, it was more than enough to make a man glad.
Part One had drawn to a close. The threat that had set its sights on Seomhwachon had passed us by, and the village's defenses still stood. With everything we'd already put in place, they would build on it well enough without me — which meant any threat that reared its head from here on out, the magistrate could see off on his own.
That said, my own workload hadn't exactly lightened. The harvest season was right on top of us — there was grain to bring in, and land to survey for clearing. And that wasn't all. Chapter One had been cleared exactly as the scenario intended, which meant I couldn't afford to stop reading the currents and tracking where the next one would take us.
Which was how I came to be wrestling with a stack of documents in my room yet again today.
— Knock, knock.
"Come in."
I answered without lifting my eyes from the paperwork, and the door swung open to the sound of light footsteps. When I finally raised my head, there stood Chae Ryeon.
"Oh. What brings you?"
"Ah. I think it's about time we headed back."
Unlike Chae Jin, Chae Ryeon had only stayed behind to help us. And as for taking the measure of Hongseong Gate's and Seomhwachon's strength — she'd seen plenty of that in the last battle, so there was little reason to linger. Still, we'd grown fairly close, and I couldn't quite deny the twinge of regret at hearing she was leaving.
"If you'd told me in advance, I'd have thrown you a farewell feast."
"Ahaha. Just hearing that is thanks enough. Besides, I'll be back before you know it."
"...Huh?"
At my look, Chae Ryeon tilted her head.
"Is that a problem?"
"Not a problem, exactly... but don't you have plenty to do at Moon Lotus Pavilion?"
Unlike Chae Jin, Chae Ryeon was the one who handled the sect's major and minor affairs. After what had happened at Cheongho, I'd have thought she'd be busier than ever. She only shrugged at my look.
"With an incident on that scale, Father had no choice but to step forward himself. Which leaves very little for me to do."
"Ah."
"Besides, winter isn't exactly a busy season for the Pavilion either. So think of it as a retreat — I'm staying here for the season."
Well, if she put it that way, who was I to argue.
"By the way, I heard in the village that you hold a festival here in winter?"
"Ah, that's right. Though it's nothing grand — just the villagers enjoying themselves among themselves."
And I had a feeling the New Year event from Cheonsang Myeongwol might be just around the corner.
The first New Year event, if I remembered right, had centered on hunting down the frozen monsters known as Donggwi — the Winter Ghosts. As winter deepened and the new year drew near, the empire would issue a decree. Spiritual energy scattered across the continent would run rampant, monsters would appear in ever greater numbers, and among them the Donggwi — creatures that drew their strength from winter — would emerge in droves. Slay them, report the tally to the authorities, and collect a reward for every kill. That was the shape of it...
The problem was that Mount Hongseong's spiritual energy — the very energy that was supposed to run wild — never had. And because of that, monsters hardly ever showed themselves anywhere near the mountain. In other words, the New Year event might simply never happen here at all. For now, I'd just have to wait and see.
"I see. Still, even a little festival in a village like this sounds like fun."
"You think so? Well, if that's what you've set your mind on, I can hardly stop you."
"Hehe. I knew you'd say that. Then we'll be off today."
"What's the hurry?"
"Strike while the iron's hot, no?"
So once her mind was made up, she was leaving on the spot, was she? I rose from my desk and walked out with her — and sure enough, the Moonlight Squad was already waiting outside.
"You've all been a great help these past days. Ah — if there's anything you need for the road, take it along. Yohwan! The travel rations—"
"Already packed."
Apparently Yohwan had been told in advance. She had come out to see them off, and her placid answer left me thoroughly satisfied.
"My sincere thanks for everything. Ah — do give my regards to Sa Yun—"
I offered the Moonlight Squad a cupped-fist salute. Beaming at the gesture, the women swung up into their saddles, and Chae Ryeon mounted after them.
"I'll be back before you know it! Until next time! Bye-bye!"
And with that, the Moonlight Squad rode away. Watching them go, I turned to Chae Jin, who leaned against the inn wall, her eyes following the departing riders.
"You're not going with them, Miss Chae?"
"Later. Isn't it about time for your training, though?"
"...So it is."
Was it that late already? Those who were leaving had left; those who stayed had their own schedules to see to. Chae Jin led the way to the backyard, and I followed.
Today's patrol fell to Ryu Gang, a disciple of Hongseong Gate, and Sa Yun. Naturally, I had used my dazzling silver tongue to coax them each into accepting a mooncake before they set out — I'd tried a new recipe this time, you see, and framed it as a request for their expert opinion. Perhaps because I'd asked for their help rather than simply pressing the pastries on them, the two had hemmed and hawed before accepting.
And when they returned, I had yet another mooncake waiting — tea, too, this time. Protesting to the very last, they still found the treats pressed into their hands, and I made them rest a while before sending them back on their way.
Ah. Another deeply satisfying day.
After seeing them off with warm farewells, I drifted back into the inn on light feet — and as my eyes swept over the early-dinner crowd inside, they caught on one figure in particular, and my head tilted of its own accord.
Hm? That man...
It was the old man from before — the one who'd sat there fidgeting in embarrassment over his noodles and dumplings. That figure — I knew it.
"Um. Excuse me—"
"Ah. Ahahaha... If it isn't the innkeeper himself. Well, this is..."
It was the Old Taoist — the very one who'd once handed me the secret manual of the Five Animal Frolics.
So this was the Old Taoist event. No way I was letting this one slip by.
I smiled at the sight of him, at a loss in his threadbare robes.
"Haha. Well, well. Seems you've lost your money again."
"Yes, and I haven't the face to show for it. My pouch was right here, I'd have sworn to it... It's enough to make a ghost weep."
The Taoist apologized over and over, mortified to his bones. When Jeomsoi looked ready to give him what-for, I waved the boy off before speaking.
"Still — noodles and dumplings... isn't that a bit meager for a meal?"
"How could one who walks the Dao permit himself to eat his fill?"
"And how could a man who has never known fullness reach for enlightenment? You're running short — have some more."
I tipped my chin toward his bowl, not a drop of broth left in it, and the Taoist floundered.
"No, that is... you see, the money..."
"Thanks to the Five Animal Frolics you so kindly shared with me, True One, I've been able to work longer and harder than before. And could I honestly claim our inn's flourishing owes nothing to the blessing you recited?"
"Er. Well..."
"So please, don't refuse me. When a kindness is done you, remembering it is the barest common sense, no?"
"Th-then... I'll accept your kindness gratefully — just the one bowl of noodles..."
"That won't come close."
Smiling, I caught Jeomsoi's eye and gave the word. Out came a fresh bowl of noodles and Yohwan's special roast duck. There had been meat in the noodles too, and judging by how heartily he tucked in, this was clearly a Taoist with no quarrel with meat.
"Ah — do you take wine, by any chance?"
"Pardon? No, accepting wine on top of everything..."
"It's quite all right — I simply wish to treat you properly, True One. If you must repay me somehow, then recite a blessing for the inn before you go."
I placed the order for food and wine, and the Old Taoist regarded me in silence for a long moment before a faint smile crossed his face. Lest my hovering weigh on him, I slipped off to my rounds.
I was midway through my work when the Old Taoist, his meal finished, came over to me.
"Might I recite the blessing for you now?"
"Ah — of course."
The Old Taoist and I stepped outside. While he burned his talisman and murmured his prayer, I waited in respectful silence, and when it was done, he hoisted his enormous pack and said:
"For the gift of a single manual, I have received far too much. To an innkeeper who fed a starving stranger out of pure kindness, a mere blessing cannot settle the account. Now, let me see... There is something I came upon in my travels. If it's no trouble, would you accept it?"
The Old Taoist rummaged through his pack, and what he produced, just as before, was a single worn book.
"It is a footwork art called the King's Steps. As the old saying goes, a king's stride carries weight, and within that stride lies his will. I could wish for no better master of it than an innkeeper who aids so many and grudges no kindness."
"Oh... thank you."
The King's Steps was an art I knew well. Even in Cheonsang Myeongwol it counted among the better footwork techniques, and its special effect was this: when deployed, it had a set chance to strike terror into one's enemies. For a man whose own martial might was nothing to boast of, even a chance at carving out a momentary opening made it a genuinely handy art.
"Thank you. For something so precious..."
"Haha, think nothing of it. Then allow me to teach you the fundamentals, brief as my instruction may be."
"Yes."
We made for the backyard together. He taught me stride by stride, walking the King's Steps before my eyes, and perhaps because I had already taken in the Chae Family Tai Chi and the Five Animal Frolics, committing the footwork to memory took no great time.
"You have trained with real diligence, I see. Very well done indeed."
"For the sake of a single meal, I hardly deserve all this... Ah — and this, as well."
I held out the money pouch I'd had ready. As before, he flustered and refused — but in the end, my pouch settled safely into his pack.
"Should your travel money run dry, or should hunger find you passing through, come by whenever you like."
"Hooh. Muryangsubul. I shall pray that the Primordial Celestial Venerable's blessing rests upon you, innkeeper. Ah — and one more thing. Are you acquainted, by chance, with a monster called the Sanbeom?"
Of course I knew it. Bag one and they handed you an inner core for your trouble — and its tail happened to be a material for the Hyeon-ungap, besides. But its spawning grounds were random; you caught one only if fortune smiled. Why bring that up now, of all things?
At my puzzled look, the Old Taoist smiled faintly.
"There was a great battle near here not long ago, was there not?"
"There was, but..."
"Much death and much blood call to monsters. The news worried me on your account, so a few days past I cast a divination."
"Is that so..."
"The energies of Geon and Son — of heaven and of wind — linger over this vicinity. Before long, I believe, a most unusual monster will show itself near this village."
It was true that Cheonsang Myeongwol had named something much like that among the reasons monsters appeared...
"Still, Mount Hongseong is a sacred mountain. Monsters rarely come near it..."
"Just so. With Mount Hongseong's spiritual energy standing watch, nothing will appear close at hand. The influence will show itself beyond its reach — some distance out from Seomhwachon, I should think."
He nodded, and his voice took on a rare gravity.
"By my reading, there is a high likelihood that the most famous of all monsters bearing the energies of heaven and wind will appear in this vicinity — the snow-summoning beast known as the 'Sanbeom.' So I beg of you: when the snows fall earlier than they should, refrain from going abroad, and guard yourself well."
Well, well... talk about luck.
Our scenario had its share of rare monsters you were meant to hunt on sight, and the Sanbeom was one of them. And this was how we'd end up bagging one?
"Of course, it may prove to be some other monster entirely — or nothing may appear at all, and this will amount to no more than a charlatan's idle flutter. Even so, I beg you, take care."
To the Old Taoist's sheepish grin, I shook my head. He wasn't wrong — even in Cheonsang Myeongwol, the advice he offered during his event hadn't always been right. But there was nothing to lose in heeding him, in staying careful and staying prepared.