Chapter 259 — An Encounter at the Inn
The old man asked, "Where have you come from?"
Yeongu pointed east.
"From the east."
The old man nodded.
"The east is wide too. From around Huanglongfu?"
"I passed through Huanglongfu as well."
The old man asked again.
"It must be chaos there too."
Yeongu looked down at his bowl of noodles and answered.
"That is what war is."
The old man clicked his tongue.
"In any case, Liao is the problem. What are they thinking, leaving things like this..."
Yeongu scooped up a spoonful of broth.
"Now that they are summoning the army and the emperor himself is taking the field, perhaps something will change."
The old man shook his head.
"There has never been such disorder in the world. How is anyone supposed to do business like this?"
The word business was mixed into the old man's speech.
Was he a merchant?
He was not of the same party as the caravan that had come in earlier.
More than anything, he carried a sword.
Yeongu asked, "Isn't this the better time to make money? The army must need a great deal of supplies."
The old man shook his head.
"That only applies to those with contracts. Petty merchants like us have enough trouble keeping our bodies safe. This must end quickly."
Yeongu answered slowly.
"It will end soon enough."
The old man's eyes flashed.
"There is war everywhere, at Ningjiangzhou, at Chuhedian, at Huanglongfu. No one knows when it will end."
Yeongu said, "It will end soon."
The old man brightened.
"You seem to have some information."
Yeongu shook his head.
"No. It is only hope. It would be good if it ended quickly."
At that moment, a group of merchants at the next table began talking loudly.
"They say one prisoner in the jail beat down the soldiers and escaped."
"The soldiers are rushing around as if something urgent happened, stirring up dust everywhere. The dust rises, and a man can hardly breathe."
A man at the next table chuckled.
"I saw the junior general shouting himself hoarse, eyes blazing, telling them to catch the fellow. Looks like he took quite a beating."
"The soldiers only pretended to run."
"The junior general was yelling and pushing them, so the poor soldiers were the ones suffering."
"You saw it?"
"I did. He was driving the soldiers on, and his eyes were swollen this big."
Another merchant set down his cup.
"What happened? A jailbreak? Discipline in the army is a complete mess."
"They said he was Korean, and they also said he was Balhae."
Several people were speaking at once, so the words did not connect clearly from beginning to end.
Still, a few phrases related to himself lodged sharply in his ears.
Yeongu's chopsticks paused for a moment.
The old man noticed and studied him closely.
"You should be careful. These days they drag away anyone they please."
"I see."
"Especially Balhae people."
"Are you not Balhae as well, elder?"
"Old men like us are usually passed over. They say they are focusing their inspections on young men around your age."
Only then did Yeongu properly examine the old man.
He had shared the table and even exchanged words with him, but until then all his nerves had been directed outside the inn.
The place where the carriages had stopped, the direction in which soldiers were moving, the footsteps and horse cries coming from outside the door had come first.
His conversation with the old man had been little more than passing, meaningless sounds between those things.
The old man was dressed like a merchant.
Over an old robe he wore a dust-stained outer garment, and at his waist hung a small pouch and a tube for tally sticks.
His hands moved familiarly around his bundle, and the way he lowered his voice and smiled looked like that of a man long accustomed to markets.
But his posture was different.
His back did not bend easily, and his shoulders had not collapsed despite his age.
Even seated on a chair, his waist was straight, and under the table both feet were planted firmly on the floor, never loosely sprawled.
His hair was almost entirely white.
The beard descending from his temples to his chin had also grown thin and silver-gray.
Yet his complexion was not that of an old merchant.
His cheeks and the bridge of his nose were red, like a man who had long faced cold wind, and though the wrinkles around his eyes were deep, his pupils were not cloudy.
It was closer to the healthy red of someone who had used his body all his life.
Perhaps the white hair made the red seem even more pronounced.
His hands also showed traces of effort to appear merchant-like.
His nails were trimmed short, and the dust on the backs of his hands had been roughly brushed away.
Yet his finger joints were thick, and the callus between thumb and forefinger was heavy.
They were not only hands that had carried heavy loads.
They were also hands that had long held a sword hilt or a bowstring.
The wrist that lifted the teacup moved slowly and steadily.
Their eyes met.
The old man did not look away first.
Only the corners of his eyes folded slightly as he smiled.
It was not the easy, affable smile of a merchant.
It was a smile that seemed already to know what the other person had seen.
Because of that smile, his white hair and red face appeared even more distinct.
Unlike Yeongu, who was somehow uneasy and unsettled, the old man was calm, like someone who had been sitting at the table for a long time.
Though the inn was noisy and the footsteps of soldiers came and went outside, the old man's hand held his tea in a steady posture.
Even his smile had composure.
He was pretending to be a merchant, but the habit of not losing his center amid noise was rooted in his body.
The old man asked quietly, "Are you perhaps connected to the commotion outside?"
Yeongu flinched.
He immediately moved his chopsticks and pretended to pick up noodles.
He acted as though nothing had happened, but the old man seemed to have already noticed.
Yeongu had looked outside too often, and each time the soldiers' footsteps sounded, his hand had paused for a moment.
His chopsticks had slowed every time as well.
Yeongu gave a short laugh.
"I do not know what you mean."
The old man did not press further.
He merely lifted his cup and brought it to his lips.
Even then, his eyes were smiling.
It was the expression of someone saying, I know everything inside you.
Yeongu felt again that this sort of work did not suit him.
It was not easy to sit still and pretend not to know.
When soldiers ran outside, his eyes went first.
When the table beside him talked about an escape from jail, his hand stopped for a moment.
He gave a very slight nod.
It was meant only for the old man.
If he spoke, the merchants at the next table would hear.
Then someone, loosened by drink, might shout something useless.
He was not afraid.
It would only make troublesome matters stretch out longer.
At that moment, the old man offered him a cup.
"Have a drink."
Yeongu shook his head.
"I will pass on the liquor."
The old man did not withdraw the cup.
"Do not refuse. It will make you feel much more at ease."
His words were gentle, and the old man's hand was already holding the bottle.
Before Yeongu could even show that he would accept it, clear liquor fell into the cup.
The scent of alcohol pricked sweetly at the tip of his nose.
It was strong distilled liquor, made by boiling grain more than once.
Yeongu looked at the old man.
The old man smiled and pushed the cup in front of him.
He added no more words.
Yeongu lifted the cup.
He emptied it in one gulp.
The liquor struck his tongue and scraped down his throat.
Just then, the dining-room door of the inn burst open with a bang.
The door struck the wall, and the voices of the people inside dropped at once.
Armed soldiers stood to the left and right of the open doorway, and more than ten entered one after another.
The soldier in front looked around the inn and said, "There will be a brief inspection."
Wind and dust from outside rushed in together.
The straw scattered across the floor stirred, and the lamps on the tables trembled slightly.
The guests stopped with spoons in hand, and a merchant who had been raising a cup to his lips froze in that posture.
An attendant stood holding a bowl of soup, looking like a man who had forgotten which table he was supposed to go to.
Yeongu smacked his lips without meaning to.
The sharp heat of the distilled liquor he had just drunk still remained in his throat.
He set down the cup and lowered his gaze.
The soldiers' footsteps came closer.
Then the old man gave a sideways glance.
It was a very small movement.
The woman seated beside him immediately rose.
She held the bundle to her chest and moved to Yeongu's side.
The chair slid slightly, and her sleeve brushed Yeongu's arm.
She sat close to him as naturally as if she had been sitting there from the beginning.
She leaned a little toward Yeongu and wore a bright smile on her lips.
It was the face of a wife greeting her husband, just returned from outside.
Yeongu froze with his chopsticks in hand.
Under the table, the woman very lightly pressed the end of his sleeve.
It meant, do not move.
Only then did Yeongu lower his head again and look at his bowl of noodles.
One of the soldiers approached their table.
The woman sat even closer to Yeongu.
There was a smile on her cheeks, and her eyes did not turn toward the soldier.
In a low voice, she said, "Dear, your noodles will get soggy."
Yeongu stiffened with an awkward expression, and the old man said quietly, "It shows all over your face."
"Ah."
The old man touched his cup and added calmly, "Smile. Not losing your smile is the first step toward looking graceful."
Yeongu forced the corners of his mouth upward.
The muscles of his face did not move as he wished.
His hand was comfortable when holding a blade, but when he tried to smile, his jaw stiffened first.
"Tch."
The old man saw it and laughed very softly.
"If you smile like that, you look even more suspicious."
He seemed to know everything.
The old man slowly turned his gaze while holding his cup.
At that moment, the soldiers came between the tables.
Fortunately, none of them were men who had been beaten by Yeongu.
Several had scattered to inspect the guests at each seat, and one young soldier strode up.
He stood before the old man, who seemed to be the head of the table.
"Where have you come from?"
"From Huanglongfu. The war has made chaos of everything. We cannot go that way anymore."
"And these people?"
"My daughter and her husband."
Before the word husband had even fully ended, the woman pressed close to Yeongu.
Her shoulder touched his arm, and her hand naturally held the end of his sleeve.
At the sensation of the woman drawing near, Yeongu's face flushed red.
He lowered his eyes and shrank his body like a man frightened by the approaching soldiers.
The young soldier looked at the pretty woman's face, then looked at Yeongu.
A pretty face solves many things in this world with ease.
Yeongu wore an awkward smile on his lips and toyed with the cup.
The liquor he had drunk had brought a little heat to his face.
Thanks to that, his stiff expression from just before looked like the effect of drink.
The soldier briefly bowed his head to the old man.
"Pardon the intrusion."
The soldier immediately withdrew.
Yeongu alone did not know it, but most others could see.
Yeongu alone did not know how conspicuous he was.
He thought his own judgments were the most ordinary, and his own behavior the most common sense.
Every person lives inside the world seen by his own eyes.
Yeongu said in a small voice, "Thank you."
The woman also answered softly, "It was nothing."
Yeongu glanced at the old man.
The old man was still holding his cup elegantly.
It seemed as though he was showing that their inspection had merely interrupted his drinking.
A trace of laughter remained at the corners of his eyes.
Yeongu felt as though he had been caught after committing some great mistake.
The old man already knew.
He knew Yeongu was connected to the commotion outside.
He knew Yeongu had just avoided the inspection.
He knew Yeongu had been watching the door again and again even before that.
He simply had not asked in words.
"How did you know?"
The old man smiled broadly.
The answer came from the woman.
"It is written on your face."
"Ah."
Yeongu let out a low breath.
"Hiyu. Everything I do is like this."
Once again, he thought he had come here for nothing.
Even sitting inside an inn and blending among people felt awkward.
If he held his tongue, he looked stiff.
If he tried to smile, he looked even more suspicious.
Even when he tried to stay still, his eyes moved first whenever he heard soldiers' footsteps.
The old man politely offered him more liquor.
"Would you like another cup?"
Yeongu silently held out his empty cup.
The old man poured the strong liquor until the small cup was full.
The clear drink rose to the rim.
Yeongu took the cup and drank it in one gulp.
The liquor scratched down his throat, and heat surged inside him.
He had volunteered to do work he did not even know how to do.
That much was all right.
The problem was that he was the only person sent here.
If he wavered, one large part of this task would go wrong.
That thought pressed heavily on his heart.
The old man said softly, "The person they are looking for is you, is it not?"
Yeongu looked at the old man for a moment.
His face was harmless, impossible to deny.
"Probably... but I am no great man."
The old man lowered his voice further.
"The rumor is that a Korean general has entered in disguise."
Yeongu slowly nodded.
"I see. I stepped forward to do something I do not know how to do, and I have ruined it."
He began eating the food in front of him hurriedly.
The noodles were already a little swollen, and the broth was cooling.
Even so, Yeongu picked up a large mouthful of noodles with his chopsticks, put them into his mouth, and scraped together even the remaining pieces of meat at the edge of the bowl.
Before things grew worse, he meant to at least fill his stomach.
Before he had even swallowed everything, he pushed a dumpling into his mouth.
It was because he worried that if things went wrong here, he might not get even one proper meal today.
The woman said quietly, "Eat slowly. You will choke."