Journeying Across the World
177.
The two Cheonsangaek riders looked like husband and wife.
They rode side by side, their horses' heads nearly touching.
Lee Sojin rode beside her older brother, Lee Sojeong.
Behind them, Soun lightened his body and followed the four who raced ahead.
The two seasoned wanderers calculated the day's distance and chose routes that passed through modest towns with inns, moving from one walled settlement to the next.
Soun had grown up moving with the army and had rarely left Taewon as a child.
This was his first true long journey.
If all his previous movements had been marches, this was closer to travel.
When he traveled with the army, they passed countless villages, yet his gaze always remained within the formation.
The sound of hooves and drums, the spacing of ranks and commands—those had been his entire world.
Even when he looked outward, he saw only banners, soldiers, formations, and commanders.
But now it was different.
There were no military tents blocking the way, no urgent commands pushing him forward.
He had companions at his side and a measure of leisure in the saddle.
Everything they passed caught his eye.
Water shimmered between rice paddies, and thin threads of smoke rose from distant fields.
Soun turned his head left and right without rest.
More than once he leaned too far to the side to look at something and fell behind the group.
They had to stop and wait for him.
Sometimes someone rode back and caught his reins.
Only then would Soun grin sheepishly and urge his horse forward.
It grew worse when they passed large cities.
They avoided busy markets when they could, but whenever they had to go through a gate, Soun's eyes were everywhere.
He stared up at carvings on the gate towers and counted the roadside flags one by one.
He even studied the shape of passing wagon wheels.
Was it the curiosity of a child?
Or the freshness of the world to one who had stepped beyond a realm?
Perhaps it was both.
What captivated him most were the roadside shops.
Many had broken open one wall of their siheyuan courtyards and set out stalls at the front.
The inner yard lay open to view, goods spread out in neat rows.
Faced with such abundance, Soun stood open-mouthed.
Steam rose from dumpling stalls, the savory scent drifting far into the street.
Red lacquerware gleamed in the sunlight.
Farming tools stood in tidy rows.
Before a smithy, hammers rang sharply against iron.
All the things needed for daily life lined the road.
He could not simply pass by.
He would slip from his horse and stand before a stall.
He touched bowls with his fingers, lifted a pitchfork to test its weight.
He bought snacks and his eyes shone as he tasted them.
He was easily swayed by merchants' words and sometimes bought things he did not need.
Not knowing how to bargain, he paid the full price and only later scratched his head with an embarrassed smile.
Each time, one of the Cheonsangaek stepped in quietly to settle matters.
The merchant's tone changed at once, and Soun rubbed the back of his neck.
Their pace slowed again and again.
The companions sighed inwardly.
Could this boy, so ignorant of worldly ways, truly set the world right?
It was exasperating.
Yet none dared scold him.
The sword they had seen on the battlefield bore no resemblance to this innocent face.
That made it harder.
He could laugh like a child, yet when his gaze deepened, no one dared speak lightly.
Soun mounted again, a small wooden trinket he had bought turning in his fingers.
He spun it idly, smiling brightly in the saddle.
That smile was not the smile of the one who had split battlefields with a blade.
It was the smile of a boy seeing the world for the first time.
The Cheonsangaek moved quickly.
With long experience they watched their horses' condition, urging them forward when needed and slowing them when terrain demanded, keeping the animals from exhaustion.
A horse cannot gallop at full speed for long.
A steady, moderate pace carries one farther.
They traveled at an easy trot, hooves clopping rhythmically.
To avoid Jeongju, they made a wide detour.
Whether by the physician's instruction or caution of their own, the Cheonsangaek spoke little and focused on watching the road, especially avoiding areas with government troops.
Detouring along smaller paths, they inevitably encountered those who lived beyond official reach.
Groups who blocked roads and demanded tolls.
A dozen men stood across the path, swords drawn, demanding payment.
The barricade was crude.
One of the Cheonsangaek smirked and prepared to cut through with a single stroke, but Soun rode forward and raised a hand.
"Wait, uncle. Please wait. I'll try to handle this."
The Cheonsangaek turned his horse aside.
He was curious.
He wanted to see what a master beyond realms would do.
After all, part of traveling together was the hope of witnessing such things—
perhaps a flash of sword energy cleaving enemies in a single stroke.
The man at the front was fearsome, his broad face scarred, brows jutting upward like blades.
He rested a wide-bladed saber on his shoulder and flexed thick muscles for intimidation.
"No money, no passage, boy."
"Hehe, I understand. But how much would that be? I'm from the countryside and don't really know."
"One liang per head."
"Then we're five, so five liang?"
"Boy, you can't count. That's heads too."
He pointed at the horses.
"Oh! Per head, right. These are heads too. Hehe, I forgot."
"If you understand, pay and go."
"But what if we don't? Do we have to turn back? It's a day's road. Should we find another route?"
"Then I suppose you will."
Soun searched his pouch.
Mirang had given him a little money.
Exactly five liang.
He looked at the coins in his palm, then at the burly bandit, then back at his palm.
"Would this be enough? It's all I have."
"Aren't there others with you?"
"That's a bit difficult. The four are helping me. It wouldn't be proper to ask them to pay. So please, just this once, accept this. All right?"
"No such half-price deals."
"But if we turn back because we lack money, you earn nothing. Isn't this better?"
Soun persisted.
Beside him, the Cheonsangaek's hand trembled.
He could not understand why Soun was negotiating with such lowly bandits when one stroke would suffice.
But he endured it.
Soun had said he would handle it.
Time dragged.
At last, worn down by Soun's stubborn persuasion, the bandits agreed to five liang and cleared the way.
Unable to contain his curiosity, the Cheonsangaek rode close.
Soun's horse flicked its eyes sideways.
Soun blinked as if to say, "What is it?"
"Young Master, could we not simply have cut through?"
"To live here, shouldn't we follow the customs here? Even bandits share this world. It sounds absurd, but they didn't seem the type to cause great harm. If I cut the world apart as I please, wouldn't there be no world left for me to live in? Conversation, compromise, negotiation, persuasion… something like that."
The Cheonsangaek laughed softly.
"Young Master, to think we, masters of the realm, would pay tolls."
At some point he had begun calling him "Young Master."
"Scholar Soun" felt too distant for the relationship they now shared.
The Yellow River – The Identity Plaque
They avoided Zhengzhou and made a wide detour until they stood before the Yellow River.
The water flowed thick and muddy.
The river was broad and unhurried.
The ferry dock was crowded.
Porters shouted.
Merchants haggled.
Boatmen cursed.
In the middle of it all, constables were conducting inspections.
When the five riders approached, the atmosphere shifted.
The constables' eyes rose in unison.
Their gazes went straight to the swords.
Each blade at the waist was long.
The horses were glossy and strong-limbed.
To anyone looking, they spelled one word: troublesome.
One constable swallowed.
He nudged the man beside him.
That man shook his head.
In the end, the youngest was pushed forward.
"What kind of people are you?"
His voice tried to sound firm, but the end trembled slightly.
Tianshan Guest stepped forward calmly.
"We are seekers of the Dao from Mount Tianshan."
"In the martial world, we are known as the Tianshan Sect."
"We reside in a Daoist temple."
The constable blinked.
"And the Daoist robes?"
"We wear them inside the temple."
"When we travel in the martial world, we do not."
"Those who deliberately wear robes outside are usually impostors."
"The genuine ones do not advertise themselves."
The constable's face stiffened awkwardly.
He felt as though he might have just offended the real thing while trying to catch a fake.
He glanced at Yisojin.
"And that young lady?"
"She is my fellow disciple."
"There are female Daoists too?"
Three constables gathered closer behind him.
Their whispering grew louder.
"Did you see those swords?"
"And the horses."
"If we provoke them…"
At that moment, Sowoon suddenly stepped forward, smiling brightly.
"May I show you my identity plaque?"
It sounded almost as if he were the one demanding to inspect them.
The constable froze.
"Your plaque," he corrected himself.
Sowoon began rummaging through his clothes.
He rummaged far longer than necessary.
He pulled out a pouch, then stuffed it back in.
He loosened his belt, then tightened it again.
"Just a moment."
"It's here somewhere."
"Where did it go?"
"Ah, found it."
At last, a yellow poplar wood plaque appeared, gleaming faintly.
The constable took it and read.
"Yu Sowoon… Scholar."
A senior officer in the back straightened at once.
"A scholar?"
The constable nodded.
"The plaque checks out."
The officer's expression softened instantly.
The tension melted like snow.
"Hey."
"That's enough."
"Stop wasting time and come over here."
The constables quietly retreated.
Their earlier bravado had vanished.
"My apologies."
Sowoon bowed politely, still smiling.
Once aboard the ferry, Yisojin asked,
"You really are a scholar?"
Sowoon widened his eyes.
"Of course."
"Did you think I wasn't?"
"Anyone who passes the provincial exam receives one."
He raised the plaque proudly.
"You should try it too, Sister."
"It's very convenient when traveling."
"City gates? Smooth passage."
"Less trouble with officials."
"And look at the color—quite handsome, isn't it?"
He dangled it in front of Tianshan Guest's eyes like a newly bought toy.
Tianshan Guest shut his eyes briefly.
"Ha…"
He shook his head.
The boy who could split armies with a sword
was now crossing the Yellow River with nothing but a smile and a scholar's plaque.
It felt less like escorting a grand master—
and more like shepherding a mischievous child across the river.