Return to the Holy City
After parting ways with Pyochung north of Nogunsan, the two headed south toward Junggyeong.
By now, the path was familiar, and with bridges laid down, passing straight through Nogunsan would have been the quickest way to their destination.
"…Shall we just take the long way around?"
"That might be better."
So Tang Mujin and Namgung Myeong chose not to pass through Nogunsan but to take a detour.
It had only been a few days since their moving farewell. To run into him again so soon would surely create the most awkward atmosphere in the world.
Just as mud must be left alone for a few days to harden, memories too need time to settle in order to remain beautiful.
Of course, avoiding Nogunsan didn't make the journey especially difficult.
Most of the travel expenses Ha Ryeong had provided were still left, so the two of them were able to stay in the finest rooms and eat the best food until they arrived in Junggyeong.
Naturally, they entered Deungseonru.
As always, the mistress of Deungseonru greeted Tang Mujin with an expression half expectation, half worry, and before long, they were seated face-to-face with Ha Ryeong.
"How did it take you this long? Including travel time, I thought you'd be back in ten or fifteen days, but it's already been three months."
Her tone was less reproachful than it was a grumble meant to conceal guilt and gratitude.
After all, medicine is something that yields greater results the more time one patiently devotes to it.
"There turned out to be more work than expected."
"Your intentions are good, but if you stay that long every time, it becomes troublesome."
"How so?"
"It makes me hesitate to ask you to care for them again. Next time, just tend to them for three to five days and return."
"Next time… I don't think there will be much need for concern. From now on, if someone falls ill, the people of Nogunsan will be able to seek out physicians themselves. Not that I'm saying I'll cut ties completely."
Ha Ryeong's expression twisted oddly.
"They'll go to physicians?"
"Yes."
Tang Mujin recounted to her what had happened in Nogunsan—the plank road and cloud bridge, the Three Swords of Nogun and the master of the Grand Medical Sect.
It sounded almost exaggerated, like a made-up tale, yet the evidence was undeniable: Namgung Myeong breaking past the wall of Perfection.
Ha Ryeong's expression soured.
"Ichung visited Nogunsan several times, yet he never said a word about any of this."
"The old man's sole concern was treating patients. He probably didn't want to be involved beyond that."
"Well, that's just like Ichung."
"And, I have a gift for you."
"A gift?"
Tang Mujin rummaged through his pack and placed a few wooden tablets on the table—the ancestral memorial tablets he had found in the Nogunsan cave.
Each tablet bore a name: Gu Wolun, Hwan Jangmu, Bok Wigyeong.
Unlike the other tablets, which listed age and cause of death, these bore only names.
It wasn't because they were missing—real missing persons had "missing" inscribed on theirs.
Meaning, the people named on these tablets were neither missing nor dead. Mujin hadn't paid much attention at first, except one name caught his eye—Bok Wigyeong.
Though he had only heard it once, Mujin knew exactly who it was—the former sect master of the Long Sang Sect, whom Mujin and Hong Geolgae had slain.
Why was the sect master's tablet here? Turning the thought over and over, he carefully examined each tablet until he found a clue at the very top.
He slid the last tablet onto the table.
"There was even one with your name on it, Lady Ha Ryeong."
It was far older than the others, two or three generations earlier, its surface worn and faded. But clearly, inscribed on the front was the name Song Ha Ryeong. Too uncanny to dismiss as coincidence.
Her expression turned bitter.
"You've already surpassed your master's perception."
"Were you from Nogunsan?"
"Yes."
She idly spun the mouth of her wine bottle. With her cup still more than half full, it was clearly not thirst that moved her hand.
"Long ago, when I was about sixteen or seventeen, I met a Buddhist nun at Nogunsan. I hated the mountain life so much I clung to her desperately, begging her to take me out. In the end, I managed to slip away with her."
"It's no wonder you hated that life. The way people live in Nogunsan is no small hardship."
"But mine was worse. Unlike the others, my mother was a true traitor."
Mujin and Namgung Myeong stiffened at the words—so sharp they might have been followed by murderous intent.
Yet Ha Ryeong did not seem inclined to harm them.
They watched her carefully and listened.
"When I was very young, my father was dragged to the magistrate's office and beaten to death. I don't know why. My mother, consumed by rage, joined the rebel faction. Luckily, she left me with distant relatives, so when the rebellion failed, I survived—even though I was dragged off to Nogunsan."
At last, Ha Ryeong tilted her bottle and poured her cup full, the fragrant aroma of liquor filling the chamber.
"At first, it was hard but bearable. But as time passed, people discovered I was the daughter of a true rebel. And do you know what happened then?"
"I do not."
"All their anger fell on me. They believed I was the reason they'd been driven from their homes and trapped in Nogunsan. Even though neither they nor I had taken part in the rebellion."
She drank deeply. Mujin and Namgung Myeong drained their cups as well, to match the mood.
"Being hungry and weary was bad enough, but their eyes were worse. They often ate without me, and more than once I was beaten for no reason at all. Meeting my master in Nogunsan and escaping was sheer fortune. I don't regret it. If I hadn't left, I would have died quickly."
"You had no choice. I understand."
Namgung Myeong spoke up at the right moment in agreement.
Ha Ryeong gave a small laugh and continued.
"Anyway, I fled. I thought it wasn't my concern what became of the Nogunsan people. I memorized the Buddha's teachings while training in martial arts. But with time and age, I came to understand them a little. Weren't they pitiable as well?"
"And then what did you do?"
"I justified myself. If I cultivated the Buddha's path diligently, perhaps one day I could redeem them and guide them to paradise. In time, people began to call me Hwayeon Shinni."
Just then, the door opened, and a courtesan entered with steaming dishes. She looked startled, sensing that a weighty story had been in the air.
Tang Mujin quickly took the dishes from the courtesan and sent her away. When the mood grows too heavy, sometimes good food is the best way to lighten it.
Of course, Ha Ryeong understood this as well; she gave a light shrug and picked up a piece of pork. Sweet and savory—it was good.
"Then one day, I realized something. No matter how many days I chanted prayers here, the truth would not change—that I had abandoned the people of Nogunsan and fled. Nor would their lives improve. So I founded Hao Clan to help those in hardship."
Tang Mujin raised an eyebrow. He understood her intentions were good, but the path and solution seemed distorted in many ways.
"If that was your goal, instead of creating Hao Clan, shouldn't you have returned to Nogunsan to face its people? You could have helped them directly in some form."
Ha Ryeong admitted it without resistance.
"I know that would have been right. But whenever I thought of returning, only reasons not to came to mind. I remembered the coldness of those times, and feared that being entangled again with the true rebel's daughter might only bring them greater suffering. And surely they wouldn't welcome me back."
Her feelings were deeply conflicted—sorrow, faint resentment, worry, fear, guilt.
All tangled together, woven over more than a century. She leaned sideways in her seat.
"Besides, those who knew me must be long dead by now. Thinking of that, in the end I couldn't bring myself to go back. Can you understand my heart?"
"So that's why you sent the old master in your place?"
"Yes. I asked him to tend to their illnesses on my behalf. That way, little by little, my debt of conscience would lessen. But in truth, it wasn't Ichung who resolved the matter—it was you."
But Tang Mujin shook his head.
"Perhaps the problem of Nogunsan has been solved, but yours, Lady Ha Ryeong, has not."
"My problem?"
"Yes. Go to Nogunsan. Meet its people."
"Why?"
"Perhaps it is not even something that needs forgiveness. But isn't it that you wish to be forgiven by them, to cast off the burden on your heart?"
Tang Mujin gestured at the pork dish she had eaten from.
"And the timing is right. Forgiveness comes from abundance and ease. And now, the people of Nogunsan are tasting prosperity for the first time. They will gladly accept and forgive you."
"…"
Ha Ryeong sat in silence for a long time before finally nodding.
"…When I find a little more courage, I will."
"Do not miss the moment."
With that, Tang Mujin rose and left Deungseonru.
Ha Ryeong rested her chin in her palm and gazed out the window. Beyond, she could see Tang Mujin and Namgung Myeong leaving Junggyeong.
She watched his departing figure for a long time.
***
On the road from Junggyeong back to the Holy City, a question loomed in Tang Mujin's heart.
Namgung Myeong was traveling beside him as though it were only natural they should return together.
When is this brat planning to go back to the Namgung Clan?
Mujin had assumed he would return to his family. By now, Myeong had gained worldly experience, and his martial attainments had risen high enough to boast of anywhere.
Namgung Jincheon was known to be strict, but surely even he would be satisfied with such achievement.
At last, Mujin asked outright.
"Are you not going back to the Namgung Clan?"
But the reply was neither a proper reason nor a flimsy excuse.
"Why should I?"
The short answer carried the clear thought: Not returning is only natural.
Not something one expected to hear from the heir of a great clan.
"What do you mean, 'why'? It's your family!"
"I have no intention of going back."
"Why not?"
"If I return, I'll have to be taught the Namgung martial arts."
"And?"
"I don't want that."
"…What nonsense is this now?"
Mujin could not comprehend him at all.
Of course—he had no way of knowing that Namgung Myeong had stolen the Imperial Sword Forms without ever being formally taught, or how much satisfaction that act alone had given him.
Myeong strung words together as they came to him.
"I don't want to learn martial arts in such a bland way. I want to master them entirely through my own realizations in real combat, and reconstruct the Namgung techniques in a new way. That is my path."
He grinned in satisfaction. Spoken aloud, it sounded quite convincing.
Of course, Tang Mujin wasn't fooled, nor did he bother trying to understand such bizarre notions.
"Well, it's your life. Do as you please."
"No need to worry. There are only a handful of Namgung techniques I haven't mastered already."
"Who said I was worried?"
"Besides, from here on it's the realm of enlightenment, not instruction. A few more forms won't make much difference. Hard for a second-rate like you to understand, I suppose…"
Without hesitation, Tang Mujin launched a strike of the White Lotus Divine Fist at Myeong's side.
But as a master of Perfection, Namgung Myeong deflected it easily.
Mujin sighed deeply.
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