Homecoming (1)
Hangzhou, Zhejiang Province.
A man walked a street where the wind blew in from West Lake. Unlike the ornate buildings around him, his clothes were shabby beyond measure.
Thud. Thud.
His footsteps were as unremarkable as his clothes. After walking for some time, he arrived at a dilapidated building wedged between lavish wine houses.
West Lake Number One Inn
His eyes trembled faintly as he looked at the shabby signboard, a name that no longer matched what stood beneath it.
"Hmm… I wonder what happened here."
In his memory, this place had been the most famous and prosperous inn by West Lake. Yet the place he had returned to after so long was utterly run-down compared to everything around it.
And in the man's eyes as he gazed at that inn, a wistful light lingered.
Creak—
He opened the inn's door. The dark interior revealed itself, and in a single breath he took in everything through that darkness.
Step. Step.
He walked on through the dark. From deeper inside, a thoroughly drained voice called out.
"We're not open for business."
At that thoroughly exhausted voice, a faint smile touched the man's lips. The voice was far too familiar—unchanged despite the long years.
"Why aren't you open for business?"
The other man fell silent for a moment, then looked around with a despondent expression.
"Can't you see? An inn this large, and not a single server working."
He glanced toward the kitchen.
"There's a kitchen, but no ingredients to cook with."
Finally he let out a long breath and shrugged his shoulders.
"It's plain as day that all that's left in this crumbling inn is me—so what business are you asking about? Do you really not know our situation?"
The man nodded.
"I'm asking because I really don't know. What happened to the inn that used to be called the Number One of West Lake?"
"Haah… If I told the whole story there'd be no end to it, so I'll keep it short. We went under because we didn't have the funds to keep the place running."
"So it was a money problem."
The man nodded, then reached his hand toward empty air. The space at his fingertips rippled, and his hand sank into it. When it reappeared, a heavy leather pouch rested in his palm.
"Would this be enough to start the business again?"
The other man fell silent.
"…"
In darkness as black as pitch, there was no way to make out what the man was holding out. With a sheepish look, he turned his free palm upward.
Woom—
A sphere of pure inner energy rose above his palm. The pure-white orb was so bright it lit the surroundings in an instant.
And at the same moment—
"Huh?"
Surprise rose on the face of the man who had been sitting in the dark as if he had given up on everything.
It was because of the ability the man had shown—and at the same time,
"Yeon?"
because of the identity of the man who had displayed such astonishing power.
The young man called Yeon gave an awkward smile.
"Have you been well, Uncle Hwan?"
The eyes of the middle-aged man called Hwan instantly reddened. The little boy who had vanished without a trace twenty years ago. That child had returned as a fully grown young man.
Hwan rose and approached Yeon.
Pat. Pat.
He patted the young man's shoulder and smiled gently.
"You're back, Yeon."