Leaving Again (2)
The old carriage rattled along. I lay on the roof beneath a thin tarp and gazed up at the sky. Surprisingly, the carriage roof was softer than it looked, and staring into that wide-open expanse left me feeling refreshed. I turned my head slightly toward the coachman driving up front. Sensing my gaze, he slowly twisted around to look at me. His face carried a faint trace of tension. Wanting to ease it, I spoke in a deliberately cheerful tone.
“The weather’s quite nice. It’s the middle of winter, yet it doesn’t even feel cold.”
“Yeah… I mean, yes. Just yesterday it was bitterly cold and dry…”
The coachman’s eyes weren’t on me as he answered. His gaze drifted steadily leftward. Wondering if something was wrong on my left side, I glanced over, but there was nothing there. While I was still puzzled, he spoke again, more cautiously this time.
“May I ask you something…?”
“Of course. And please speak comfortably. I’m much younger than you.”
He hesitated a moment, conflicted, then carefully opened his mouth.
“Ah… then, are you by any chance from the Namgung Clan…?”
The question How did he know? rose in my throat, but I swallowed it. I didn’t want to make him feel pressured. The man wasn’t a martial artist, nor did he show any signs of even basic training. He didn’t seem connected to any merchant guild either, so his curiosity was likely innocent.
“What makes you think so?”
“I saw you… talking comfortably with people from the Namgung Clan.”
Ah. Before I climbed aboard, Changgung Sword Squad member Kang Uk had approached to deliver a letter, and we’d spoken briefly. Namgung Jinhak, the young master, had compiled a list of people to watch at this year’s Yongbongjihoe and sent it along. I really should read it, but it felt like a chore. He must have seen that exchange.
I nodded easily.
“Though I’m still lacking, I belong to the Namgung Clan.”
“…Then in Henan, does that mean you’re participating in the Yongbongjihoe…”
“That’s correct.”
For a second his face looked as if he’d been slapped, but he quickly composed himself.
“Truly impressive… You look so young.”
He seemed even more tense now. He probably thought I was some secret weapon the Namgung Clan had prepared. Part of me wanted to correct him, but I let it pass.
“It’s just accumulated experience. Nothing more.”
After that we didn’t speak much. The journey remained smooth, perhaps because even bandits were cowed by the insurmountable walls of Shaolin Temple and the Namgung Clan. We crossed two more mountains before I looked up again.
“You said we would enter Hubei from here, yes?”
“…I did.”
Then it was time for me to get off. Hubei was still far from Shaolin.
“Will two silver coins cover the fare up to here?”
“That’s more than enough.”
I took two silver coins from my pouch, handed them to the coachman, and leaped down from the roof. He stared at me with open curiosity—apparently the landing technique was new to him—then drove off.
“Henan again after so long.”
In my previous life, after toppling the Jinju Eon Clan in Shanxi, I had only passed through its outskirts. The land had been in chaos then, full of noise and violence. Now it was quiet as a grave.
I knew that under the banner of Northern Dipper Shaolin, the central districts were lively, but these outer regions felt exactly like my own hometown—peaceful and still.
Should I hire another carriage? It would certainly be more comfortable. I could simply sit back, sleep, or enjoy the scenery without lifting a foot. Yet having already gotten down once, I felt no desire to climb aboard another. Strangely, I had the urge to walk instead. Well, I could take my time. After all, I had set out intending to walk a little.
I checked that my sword and money pouch were secure at my waist and in my robes, then began walking slowly toward the heart of Henan.
.
.
.
After asking directions here and there while searching for Shaolin, I realized the moon had already claimed the sky. Even if I ran with everything I had, I wouldn’t reach the temple tonight. With that rational conclusion, I started looking for a nearby inn.
A short distance ahead, one finally appeared.
Sanghwa Inn. An inn that was always noisy… True to its name, the moment I drew near, the clamor of voices spilled out.
“Welcome, sir!”
The instant I opened the door, sound crashed over me like a wave. The clatter of bowls, boisterous laughter, drunken arguments, fights breaking out somewhere—all of it blended into a single chaotic roar. I stood there feeling dizzy, as if I’d been struck by some sound-based technique, when a young waiter approached.
“Are you here for a meal?”
“…If you have an empty room, I’d like one, please.”
“Right away!”
Pinching my throbbing forehead, I followed the boy. He laughed brightly.
“It’s never exactly quiet here, but it’s not usually this crowded and loud.”
“It’s all because of the Yongbongjihoe. Martial artists from every region are pouring in.”
Now that he mentioned it, every guest in sight carried swords, spears, or other weapons. So everyone here was heading to the Yongbongjihoe, just like me. It drove home how large the event truly was.
“Isn’t it difficult when so many guests arrive?”
It felt slightly ridiculous asking that while being one of those guests myself, but the waiter answered kindly.
“It is tiring. Especially when guests start arguing—particularly if they’re martial artists… Still, it’s manageable. If we handle it well, we can earn several months’ profit in just a few weeks, so I consider it a good thing.”
He paused to glance around, then changed direction and guided me to a table with four chairs. It seemed excessive for one person, but no other seats were free, so I sat.
“One light bowl of noodles and some dumplings, please.”
The waiter nodded, muttered the order to himself, and hurried off.
“…How dull.”
Occupying an entire table alone felt awkward and lonely with no one around. To fill the emptiness, I slumped forward and stared blankly at the wood. Near the entrance, the same waiter boy was speaking with new guests.
A group of three or four, all dressed in identical white robes. Even in this large inn, such fine material stood out. They looked like people from a powerful clan or sect. Was the boy being threatened? If so, I was ready to draw my sword at once. No matter who they were, I could not stand by while the innocent were trampled. That principle remained the root of my heart, even if it had once been twisted.
I rested my hand lightly on my sword hilt and focused on them.
After a brief exchange, the waiter led them through the crowd. Their faces grew clearer as they approached. They really were coming toward me.
“Hmm…?”
I lifted my head and watched more carefully. Sure enough, they stopped right in front of my table. The waiter fidgeted, then stepped aside and pointed at the empty seats beside me.
“There are only three seats left in the whole inn… Would it be possible for these guests to share your table?”
The boy looked genuinely troubled, and I was both bored and alone. They weren’t enemies, so I nodded.
The waiter’s face brightened instantly. One of the four followed him upstairs, while the remaining three filled the empty chairs around me.
“Thank you,” the black-haired woman sitting directly across from me said. She appeared to be the leader. After a quick glance around the room, she met my eyes.
“There were no empty tables, so we were in quite a bind.”
She offered a polite smile.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Jegal Soyeon of the Jegal Clan.”
Sowoon. Be careful with that woman named Soyeon from the Jegal Clan as well. She is prepared to do anything to achieve her goals.
— Namgung Jinhak
Her eyes, curved like crescent moons, held a black gleam that reminded me of a night cat—sharp and unsettling. Had I heard the name before? In my previous life I had memorized every strategist under the irritating banner of Heavenly Brain Jegal, yet this name hadn’t appeared. Still, it felt strangely familiar.
Suddenly the letter from Namgung Jinhak that I had skimmed earlier flashed through my mind. Jegal Soyeon. Yes, she had been listed a few names from the top.
From someone who had seen the young master be mistaken before, I couldn’t tell whether this was a chance to build ties with a central figure of the Jegal Clan or if I was simply sticking my head into the jaws of a black-hearted serpent. With those complicated feelings, I returned the greeting.
“Yes, likewise. My name is Jin Sowoon.”