The Value of a Single Word - 12
No one in this world is without loneliness. That is precisely why people live together in groups.
To ease their weakness, to soothe their solitude, and to lean on others for the warmth they cannot provide themselves.
Just as humanity once built fires to ward off the dark, people instinctively flee from loneliness. And just as the weak cling to that fire, they seek stability by leaning upon the strong.
And this held true for Hong Ryeon, the eldest disciple of the Hongseong Sect, as much as for anyone.
But long before Hong Ryeon could ever lean on someone else, she had to become the pillar that others leaned upon — and so she had no choice but to grow up a little faster than everyone else.
That said, she never resented her master, the Sword Saint, for it. She had known from the very beginning that there was nothing in the woman to lean on outside of the martial arts, and she had still chosen to become her disciple.
The Sword Saint Na Yerin was an awkward person.
Blessed with innate talent, and possessed of a ferocious hunger for the blade besides. Perhaps as a backlash against that singular devotion, everything else about her was hopelessly clumsy.
Of course, that didn't mean the Sword Saint refused to do what was asked of her.
It was simply that whenever anything unrelated to the martial arts was placed in her hands, it more often than not ended in disaster, so no one could afford to hand it to her at all.
And so Hong Ryeon had been forced to grow up faster.
What her master could not do, she had to do herself.
Because everyone was looking to her.
And so she had to be an adult.
Naturally, that was no small burden for Hong Ryeon either.
In the end, she was human too, and wanting to lean on someone was only natural.
But on whom?
However desperately her instincts pleaded, no pillar existed for her to lean upon.
The Murim Alliance?
Unfortunately, that confederation of orthodox sects only wished to make use of the Hongseong Sect's strength.
No — they had already used it once, and had received the Sword Saint's furious punishment for it.
Then her own family?
But her family, too, wanted nothing more than to expand their influence by exploiting her name as the Hongseong Sect's eldest disciple and her master's connection to the Sword Saint.
Doje, the Sword Saint's rival at the pinnacle of the realm? Sinseung of Shaolin Temple?
Or perhaps—
Or perhaps.
From where Hong Ryeon stood, their eyes were nothing but unpleasant to behold.
Not one of them had the eyes of an elder she could lean on — they all carried the gaze of people scheming to take what was hers.
It fell to Hong Ryeon to protect the Hongseong Sect, to protect her martial sisters, from such people.
She had to be perfect.
She had to look after her junior sisters in her master's stead, and uphold the Hongseong Sect in her master's stead.
She could never forget the teachings of a prestigious orthodox sect — and to do that, she had to display perfection.
But no one can be perfect forever.
Even steel bends under a weight that never lets up.
How, then, could a person hope to maintain a will of iron without end?
And so perhaps the spring books Hong Ryeon hoarded away, the crude jokes she traded with her junior sisters, were in truth the silent screams of a woman crushed beneath her burden.
I am not a perfect person.
So please, even just once in a while — carry this burden for me.
Hong Ryeon would deny it.
But it was a thought that had lived inside her for a very long time.
And that was why she had to remain an adult at all times — and why she could not help but be conscious of the man who, despite knowing how everyone saw her, had treated her like a mere girl.
The richest man in Seomhwachon.
Unlike her — who had to stifle silent screams just keeping one sect afloat and caring for her sisters — an adult who not only maintained two thriving businesses but managed his other holdings with ease, and was actively growing them besides.
"I only did what anyone ought to do."
It was only natural, then, that those words from such a man would shake her.
How is that obvious? How is it natural?
To take up a sword is to prepare oneself to be run through by one.
Even young Sa Yun and Yu Hui — they were martial artists of the murim all the same, and they had all steeled themselves to the possibility of being hurt or killed.
And yet he claimed that protecting them was simply what anyone ought to do?
Hong Ryeon stared at Yu Wol, dazed.
His eyes were as unwavering as they had been the day they first met.
Was that what he meant? That just as those who mastered the blade were obliged to protect those who had not, adults were simply obliged to protect children?
She had so much she wanted to say.
How can you be like that?
How are you not afraid?
How are you so steadfast?
But none of those questions ever left her lips.
Because his eyes — that gaze, so firmly anchored in resolve — were already answering them.
In the end, Hong Ryeon's lips fluttered a few times before she suddenly became aware of what was rising inside her, and had no choice but to lower her head.
In that case.
May I lean on you a little, too?
The burden on my back is already so heavy.
Just a little — only when I'm truly exhausted and at my wits' end — may I lean, just for a moment, on this pillar of an adult I have never known before?
Hong Ryeon could not bring the words welling up inside her out into the open.
Because leaning freely on another person was something she was far too proud to do.
Besides, the man before her owed nothing to the Hongseong Sect.
And for all she knew — though he gave no sign of it — he was carrying a burden just as immense on his own shoulders.
No, perhaps an even heavier one.
The inn, and the trading company.
She had heard that the lands throughout Seomhwachon and even buildings in other cities were his as well.
Hong Ryeon knew better than anyone that taking something was difficult, but holding and maintaining it was harder still.
And look — only recently, and again just now, people had come creeping after him, hadn't they?
And she would unload her own burdens on a man like that?
That would be shameless — a thing no member of an orthodox sect should ever do.
And so, to her — to the woman forcing a smile and pretending at composure —
he spoke words so harsh they would have made a Demonic Cult raid seem like a passing nuisance, and he spoke them without a flicker of hesitation.
"Is it hard?"
Stop.
"If so, then come here and rest once in a while before you go."
Stop.
"I know that leading the Hongseong Sect in the Sword Saint's stead, guarding its honor and keeping it whole, is no easy task. So even if it's only now and then, come with your sisters and rest a while. I won't ask anything else of you."
...Stop.
"And if even that feels like too much, then why not do as we did this time? Entrust the patrols of Seomhwachon to your disciples? Not all of them, of course. But one or two at a time — wouldn't that be manageable?"
"......"
"And in return, I'll provide medicine and the like. If you'd rather pay in coin, I won't accept it."
"...Why are you going this far?"
Her voice was already trembling. For Hong Ryeon, who was supposed to hide it, composure was long gone.
The resolve to endure, the determination to conceal it all — it had worn through to shreds.
Because after so very long, that warmth, that consideration, was shaking her to her core.
Her grip tightened on the hem of his clothes — a slow, unconscious clench.
And still, instead of answering, he simply gazed at her with gentle eyes, as though he already understood everything in her heart.
What was that gaze trying to say? Hong Ryeon found the answer in something he had once told her.
You're still a girl, you know.
You're still a child, so lean on me — the adult.
That single soundless sentence made the ache in her chest swell just a little larger.
And in the warmth it brought her, Hong Ryeon finally squeezed her eyes shut.
To my proposal, Hong Ryeon gave neither yes nor no — only a promise to think it over — and then turned and left.
Once she was gone, I put my pipe back between my teeth.
My reason for offering the Hongseong Sect medicine in exchange for patrols was a simple one.
It was the state of their disciples when they'd walked into my inn earlier.
Small as they were, those were still injuries. And yet they had left them untreated all this time.
To be fair, I could understand it well enough. They had the internal energy of the Hongseong Divine Art, and a few of them had even learned some recovery techniques, so letting things slide wasn't entirely incomprehensible.
But if treatment was available with the help of proper medicine, then receiving it was simply better.
Even in Cheonsang Myeongwol, leaving injuries untreated always came with a penalty of one kind or another.
The Hongseong Sect was prestigious, but it was not wealthy.
Which meant effective salves like Gold Sore Powder were hardly stocked in abundance at their compound.
The disciples' condition made that plain enough — as had Sa Yun's reaction earlier.
Of course, Hong Ryeon could procure good medicine by handling work for the Murim Alliance.
But the reason they were trying to brush off wounds of this magnitude was, no doubt, an effort to spare the medicine she'd brought — an effort made for the sake of their eldest senior sister.
So was I really supposed to stand by while they half-treated their wounds like this, with no way of knowing when the next disaster would strike?
In the worst case, those untreated injuries and their penalties could trip them up at their feet during the Iron Blood Dan's assault.
From my position, that was something I absolutely had to prevent.
But if I simply handed the medicine over, they would certainly refuse, hiding behind sect policy.
Which was why I'd attached the condition: come and handle the patrols.
I exhaled the pipe smoke I'd drawn in. The hazy gray haze hung against the black sky, and Hong Ryeon's face from earlier rose in my memory.
Like this thick smoke, her face had been clouded beyond measure.
She must have been struggling. I was certain of it.
So all I could hope was that this proposal would lighten her load, if only by a little.
We are the Sayun Faction.
Bound together by the Khala, after all.
"Hmm..."
Still — who would come for the patrols, I wonder?
I hope it's Sa Yun.
The wounds carved by the Demonic Cult's raid settled, and it did not take long for ordinary life to settle back into place in Seomhwachon.
As on any morning, I practiced the Five Animal Frolics at dawn and finished the morning rush of business. I was off attending to some work — dodging Chae Jin and her ceaseless cries of "valued patrons!" — when a courier from the Post Courier Guild came calling.
What he delivered was a stack of letters.
A business dispatch from the Cheonghoe Merchant Guild.
And—
"Ohh... it's here!"
A letter from Sa Yun.
Smiling, I opened it at once.
Dear Uncle,
"The human heart is weak, and it is in the darkness that we come face to face with our true nature."
That's what my Master said, when she came down from the training hall for the first time in ages.
I don't think she's wrong. When I think back on what I went through as a child — back then, I was staring my own weakness and ugliness dead in the eye.
Since taking my Master's hand and coming to the Hongseong Sect, I've learned the Hongseong Divine Art, and I've been helped by so many of my senior sisters.
And yet I still feel as though part of me is still back in that gutter.
Isn't that right? In the end, the essence of who I am hasn't changed.
And this time, I felt it all over again.
It was a few days ago. The Demonic Cult attacked Seomhwachon, and in the middle of the battle to stop them, I found myself staring into the darkness inside me.
Senior Sister Yu Hui was attacked by the fire tiger.
Someone who cherishes me had been hurt.
The people behind me were in danger.
That alone was enough for me to realize that the darkness within me wasn't gone — it was only crouched low, waiting.
And I wavered at its whisper.
I nearly forgot the will of Hongseong — the very thing my Master, my senior sisters, and all the others had drilled into me.
But you know what?
There was something terribly precious that shone a light into that darkness.
Hehehe. And that was—
It was you, Uncle.
Every single word you sent me became a star in the darkness, lighting the road ahead of me.
Your worry for me, your care, your kindness — because of them, I did not forget the will of Hongseong.
And I was able to take one more step past the thing that had been giving me so much trouble.
The worth of that one sentence was, to me, truly worth ten thousand gold.
Thank you so much.
I always feel like I'm only ever receiving from you, and I hardly know where to put myself.
Uncle.
Is there anything I can do for you?
When I returned to the sect after the battle with the Demonic Cult, all hell had broken loose.
The training hall where my Master resides was half destroyed, and demonic energy was seething all over the compound.
While we were fighting the Cult, my Master said an enemy sent by them appeared before her as well.
Apparently only my Master and my eldest senior sister know the details of that...
Still, with the training hall half ruined and the storehouse nearby fouled by demonic energy, my eldest senior sister's face was gloomier than words can say.
The one blessing is that no one was hurt... but my Master says our training will have to grow even harsher from now on.
Hehe. Things look like they'll get a bit harder for me.
But I'll persevere, of course!
Ha ha. Imagine — Demonic Cultists coming all this way to target the Sword Saint.
Come to think of it, two days ago Ryu Hyeon was grumbling about this very thing while placing an order.
The Cultists stormed in after the Sword Saint, blew up the training hall and the storehouse, and soaked everything inside with demonic energy so that none of it could be used anymore.
Because of that, she had to spend every last gold coin from the Mabok bounty on repairs — she heaved a sigh that could have sunk the world and burned with hatred for the Demonic Cult.
Recalling the scene, I tapped the letter lightly against my palm, then opened my safe.
Inside, I placed it neatly into a very fine keepsake box, and as I closed the safe, I thought to myself:
So — what could Sa Yun possibly do for me, hmm?
Plenty. There's so much I'm going to give her.
First, she still has to visit the other hidden realms, and she needs to acquire the cavalry.
I'd like her to stockpile more elixirs, too, and learn supplementary martial arts to round out the Hongseong Divine Art. She should wear beautiful clothes and taste delicious food, make some friends along the way...
Bursting into laughter at the thought of everything on my list, I murmured:
"You're not ready yet."
Not strong enough, not happy enough — not for what I want for you. For what we want.