The Old Man
Half a day had passed since they left the inn.
After struggling over two narrow, winding mountain passes, Cheongwol and Ak Seo-a finally set foot in Jintang.
They had covered the distance with qinggong, so it had not been terribly far — yet exhaustion already lay heavy across both their faces.
"I had heard Sichuan's mountains were the most treacherous in all the Central Plains… but I never imagined they would be quite like this."
Even Ak Seo-a, who was ordinarily brimming with energy, wore a look of utter depletion. Cheongwol need hardly be mentioned.
"…Tell me about it."
She had tumbled through countless deep valleys and remote ranges, and had believed herself long past being troubled by rough terrain. Now, keenly aware that there was always a sky above the sky, Cheongwol slowly took in her surroundings.
If Lanzhou, sitting astride the road to the Western Regions, had carried an exotic air, the land beneath her feet now was the Central Plains exactly as her grandfather had described them.
Blue-tiled roofs stretched toward the heavens. Beneath them hung placards and banners of every color, swaying in the breeze. And atop a pavilion painted in vivid red lacquer, people crowded shoulder to shoulder — even in broad daylight, throngs already sat tipping their cups.
Lanzhou wasn't bad, but somehow this place feels more like the Central Plains Grandfather used to talk about.
A smile touched her lips at the memory of her grandfather's words. In that moment, Ak Seo-a seized her by the arm.
"Young Lady Cheongwol! What say you we ease our hunger a while in that pavilion?"
Cheongwol stared at her in disbelief, then at the bundle Ak Seo-a was carrying.
"We finished eating barely more than two hours ago. What are you talking about? And we still have the food they packed for us."
"But we shall need provisions for the road to the Emei Sect as well, shall we not? The innkeeper's cooking was so fine that this humble one wishes to ration it as carefully as possible."
As Ak Seo-a rattled off one absurd excuse after another and tried to hide the bundle behind her back, Cheongwol's eyes narrowed.
"You…"
"Did I not say that should any difficulty arise, you need only speak of it? This humble one is so famished she may collapse at any moment…"
Those eyes — bright yet steeped in sorrow, like a small creature caught in the rain. Cheongwol finally let out a quiet sigh.
…Today is the last day we travel together, after all.
By tomorrow she would be bound for Chengdu, and Ak Seo-a for Mount Emei. At the close of a good friendship, was there any need to quarrel over something so small?
Perhaps because Ak Seo-a was only the second true friend she had made since Seomun Hwi, Cheongwol found her resolve uniquely soft where the other girl was concerned.
"Fine, fine. But for dinner at the inn, just a little—"
She had not even finished speaking before Ak Seo-a was already up on the pavilion, waving with a broad grin.
"Young Lady Cheongwol! There happens to be exactly one seat free! Come up at once!"
Whether by luck or by skill, Ak Seo-a had truly claimed a seat with a clear view in every direction.
"They say the food is brought over from a nearby inn, so I asked for whatever sells best!"
"Well done. Though it's a curious arrangement. I wondered how they ran a business from a pavilion — turns out the cooking is done at the inn."
"Indeed. Is this your first time in a pavilion of this sort?"
"Well, if you want to get technical, it'd be harder to find something that isn't a first for me."
"What… do you mean by that?"
Ak Seo-a tilted her head. Cheongwol propped her chin on her hand and chuckled softly.
"If you didn't catch it, never mind."
She was just unfastening her sword to set it upright on the floor when a low, solemn voice reached her ear.
"Pardon me, you two."
"…?"
Wondering who might be calling them, they looked up to find an old man approaching with measured steps.
His hair was already pure white, yet the straight line of his spine and the firmness of his stride carried a presence that even the years had failed to break.
"I have come a long way, yet every inn — and this place as well — claims to have no room. Might you spare this old man even a corner seat?"
The request was rather sudden, but Ak Seo-a sprang to her feet and nodded at once.
"Elder! This humble one shall make room at her side!"
"A spirited young lady, I see."
Looking upon Ak Seo-a's ready acceptance, the old man smiled with evident satisfaction.
"You have saved me. Age has made even a short walk leave my whole body aching. Had you not given up a seat, I might well have collapsed."
Nothing about the old man's frame suggested any such frailty, but Cheongwol chose not to say so aloud. Instead, recalling the way he had approached Ak Seo-a's side, she carefully opened her mouth.
"Are you, by any chance, a martial artist?"
At Cheongwol's question, the old man turned an intrigued gaze upon her.
"And how did you come to that guess?"
Neither confirmation nor denial — only a question in return. Cheongwol stated her reason with quiet composure.
"Nothing special. When you walked over, I couldn't hear your footsteps."
"…With all this noise around us, they might simply have been drowned out, no?"
"Even so — you were right beside us. At least the creaking of the boards should have been audible."
"Hm?"
"The floor next to us. I noticed earlier that some of it needs repair."
The old man glanced aside. Sure enough, one section had sunk inward while another had warped upward.
"…Caught out by a detail so trivial I never even considered it. You seem a young lady still, yet your eye is truly remarkable."
Admiration filled his gaze as he slowly nodded toward Cheongwol.
"As you surmised, this old man has cultivated a modest skill or two."
A modest skill.
Cheongwol could not begin to guess how refined a footwork art would be required to tread a warped board without producing a single sound.
…No. He probably wasn't even doing it deliberately.
Anyone capable of such consummate footwork would inevitably possess martial arts of equal refinement. Would such a person deploy a technique merely to show off?
Most likely, the old man before her had reached a realm where ordinary walking and formal footwork no longer needed to be distinguished.
Come to think of it, Grandfather and Master barely made any sound when they walked either.
Perhaps a higher realm was born precisely from dissolving the boundary between daily life and training.
She was on the verge of sinking into deep contemplation when an unfamiliar energy began to circle around her.
"…?"
Startled, she lifted her head — and found the old man watching her with a sly smile.
"The food has arrived. I cannot say what thought holds you so deeply, but attend to it while you eat. Hunger has a way of spoiling even the work one means to do."
"Quite so! Better to finish the meal first and think afterward, is it not?"
Ak Seo-a, chopsticks already in hand and fully prepared to dine, chimed in support of the old man's words.
"Ah…"
Something that had seemed almost within her grasp scattered and slipped away. Cheongwol could not hide a look of lingering regret.
Then the old man's voice brushed her ear once more — this time for her alone.
"Do not be impatient. So long as your heart does not scatter, you may grasp it again whenever you wish."
When the meal began, a residue of regret still clung to her — but once her mind settled into calm, she decided it had been for the best. Had she stubbornly clung to that insight and forced her concentration in a place this noisy, there was no telling what might have gone wrong.
Cheongwol chewed slowly on a well-grilled piece of meat and watched the old man converse with Ak Seo-a.
To forcibly rouse a martial artist sunk deep in contemplation was a sure path to qi deviation. And yet the old man had drawn her back to reality with a skill so natural and practiced it seemed the most ordinary thing in the world — as though he had done it many times before.
Cheongwol wanted nothing more than to ask his identity then and there, but she could not bring herself to speak the words. To do so would have meant revealing her own.
Of course, she could have muddled through with the cover story she and Soga-yul had prepared before she left the Kongdong Sect. But if a master of this old man's caliber saw through it, everything might unravel before her revenge had even begun.
In the end, Cheongwol set her curiosity aside for the moment and simply listened to the old man's tales.
"In my younger days, I once witnessed the Lord of the Four Fiends Alliance perform his martial arts with my own eyes."
"Oh! Is that truly so?"
"It is, and more. Long years have passed, yet the sight remains as vivid as if it stood before me still."
Whether boast or truth, the old man continued with a face of considerable gravity.
"Black Thunder coiled up around his entire body, then surged skyward as though defying the heavens themselves. I was standing well back, and still my whole body went numb — I could barely keep my feet. And then…"
"And then…?"
"Crash!"
The old man slammed his palm against the table, producing a sound like rolling thunder. Ak Seo-a jerked backward in surprise, but her eyes never left him.
Even Cheongwol was holding her breath, painting the next scene in her mind — when the old man spoke again.
"…The truth is, that is as far as I remember."
He had raised their expectations to a peak, only for the words that left his mouth to sag and trail off into nothing.
"What kind of ending is that! Think harder, Elder! Surely something more will come to you!"
Ak Seo-a protested with a look of pure injustice, but one cannot resurrect a memory that does not exist. The old man only laughed softly and shook his head.
"Regrettably, that is all of it. Forgive me."
Not long after Cheongwol and Ak Seo-a finished their meal and left the pavilion, a man approached the old man who had remained behind.
The face visible beneath the bamboo hat was so beautiful it was hard to believe it belonged to a man — yet it was so unnaturally pale that the effect was unsettling rather than pleasing.
"You might have come a little earlier. You would have seen something rare. That young lady's appetite was terrifying, for all that her appearance suggested otherwise."
The old man cast a sidelong glance at the thoroughly emptied plates and smiled thinly.
"Well? Will you eat as well?"
Even at the old man's question, the man kept his head bowed and only barely moved his lips.
"I am fine, Alliance Leader."