Hwi, who was driving the carriage, looked up at the sky.
Dark clouds were gathering, looking as though they would pour down rain at any moment.
“We will stop by the village today.”
Hwi turned from their original route and headed toward a nearby village.
Geom Mugeuk leaned out the window and said.
“I hope there’s a beautiful young lady in this village who might catch the fancy of our Hwangcheon Pavilion Lord.”
At those words, Seo Daeryong’s face, seated on the coachman’s perch, turned red. Of course, he refused to back down.
“I will recite a poem for that woman!”
Just then, thunder rumbled in the distance.
Rumble!
Seo Daeryong flinched.
‘Even thunder, why now of all times!’
While he was sulking, Hyeolcheon Doma’s voice rang out.
“Looks aren’t everything. A man is about his heart!”
At those words of encouragement to his disciple, Seo Daeryong’s expression brightened radiantly.
“Yes! Master! It is the heart that makes the man!”
If only he had been slightly closer to Hwi, he would have asked him. Swordsman Hwi, which do you prefer? The heart, right? Right?
Feeling his excitement in the wind, Geom Mugeuk, who was leaning out of the carriage, smiled silently. Indeed, once a woman comes to know the kind of person you are, how could she not like you?
The further the carriage entered the main street, the wider the road became.
Next to a fruit merchant haggling with a customer over whether to add one more apple, an old herbal medicine vendor was setting up an awning in preparation for the rain.
A street dumpling vendor waved at Hwi and Seo Daeryong to come and try some, while a fabric shop clerk was taking down the silk displayed outside.
Children ran about amid the bustling sounds and delicious smells.
Geom Woojin watched the scene unfolding outside the window in silence.
If the first purpose of this journey was to make memories with his father, then the second was this very moment. It was his hope that his father would see every corner of the Central Plains with his own eyes.
Father, when war breaks out, we will only focus on where, how, and how many of our cult’s warriors die and kill. Yet in the meantime, that merchant over there will die, and those children too. Those numbers will never appear in our statistics.
That was it. Memories of tilling the fields together were good, but the reason it was precious that Father left a banknote for that old couple’s grandson’s wedding.
That was why every one of these moments was both a leisure outing, and at the same time, a confrontation with his father.
The carriage stopped in front of the largest inn in the village.
Hwi took all six rooms on the second floor and asked the innkeeper to ensure no other guests or servants came up.
After deciding to unpack, rest well, and then eat, everyone went to their respective rooms.
Whenever he had time alone, Geom Mugeuk would invariably enter the space of his Dimensional Shift Technique and train using his Soaring Heaven Secret Art.
But today, he lay flat on his bed.
There were times when, immersed in training, he thought this must be what it meant to be devoured by martial arts. Training on a day like today would have made him feel exactly that. Let’s rest. Today, let’s rest properly.
Lying in bed, he stared blankly at the dark clouds visible through the window, then dozed off in the blink of an eye.
How long had he slept like that?
Sssssshhhh.
He woke to the sound of pouring rain. Waking up to the sound of rain, he thought it felt surprisingly pleasant.
Then he suddenly remembered that before his regression, he had hated rain. Whenever downpours came while he was gathering materials for the great art alone, his loneliness and melancholy had grown even greater.
But now, he liked the rain.
The leisure of rolling around in bed listening to the rain. He envied no one in the world.
But that lasted only a moment. Perhaps because he had lived a life of constant running and rushing, his body grew restless and he could no longer lie still.
He got up from bed and left his room.
In front of Seo Daeryong’s door across the way, he checked for signs of movement inside. He wondered if he might be asleep, but he was awake.
“What are you doing? Can I come in?”
“Yes, please come in.”
Opening the door and entering, he found Seo Daeryong reading a book. It was the poetry collection that Hyeolcheon Doma had bought him.
“Is it interesting?”
“Honestly, it’s not that entertaining… but there are passages that make me fall into contemplation without realizing it.”
Perhaps because he knew Seo Daeryong was an intelligent person who had studied hard? The sight of him reading the poetry collection suited him quite well.
“Since it’s raining, want to have a drink?”
At Geom Mugeuk’s words, Seo Daeryong shut his book as if he had been waiting for just that.
“I’d love to.”
They left the room and passed by the rooms of his father, Hyeolcheon Doma, and Hwi.
When Geom Mugeuk playfully stopped as if to enter one of them, Seo Daeryong whispered from behind, as if he had expected it.
“We can’t!”
A drinking session with Father and Lord Doma? He could clearly see how much the kid would struggle with that.
When they came down to the first floor, over a dozen guests were here and there, eating and drinking.
Geom Mugeuk and Seo Daeryong sat where they could see outside well and ordered drinks and snacks.
Rain was pouring down refreshingly.
Small bamboo trees planted beside the building in front of the inn swayed in the rainwater, and ripples spread endlessly in the puddles.
Travelers wearing rain capes and bamboo hats ran past, and in the distance, people took shelter from the rain under eaves. It was a scene that brought peace to the heart just by watching.
In the meantime, the drinks and food arrived.
“Have a drink, Young Lord.”
Seo Daeryong politely poured him a cup. Geom Mugeuk, having received the drink, filled Seo Daeryong’s cup in return.
“It’s been a while. Drinking just the two of us like this.”
“It is a gathering I have long awaited.”
No matter what anyone said, he was someone who wanted to see Geom Mugeuk, and to be with him.
The two of them emptied their first cups refreshingly.
Then they refilled their cups and wordlessly watched the rain. Listening to its sound, they had no need for snacks.
“The smell of rain is nice.”
At Geom Mugeuk’s words, Seo Daeryong twitched his nose.
“Does rain have a smell?”
“It does.”
“Now that you mention it, I don’t think I’ve ever consciously smelled rain.”
There are things you never see if you don’t pay attention, and scents you can never smell if you aren’t conscious of them.
“It’s good—today’s smell of rain.”
At Geom Mugeuk’s words, Seo Daeryong breathed in through his nose, taking in the scent.
They drank a cup listening to the rain, and drank another reminiscing about old times.
Passing drinks back and forth like that, they drank.
“When did you learn to fish?”
To have defeated the Lord three times—his skill was undeniable. Young Lord, what in the world can’t you do?
“You’re the one who’s good at fishing.”
“That was just luck.”
But as if he had been waiting for just those words, Seo Daeryong’s eyes sparkled. He looked around and lowered his voice.
“I can’t forget that feeling in my hands.”
Clenching and unclenching his hands, pulling and pushing his arms, he mimicked the motions of fishing, unable to hide his excitement.
“Who would have thought I’d beat the Lord and Master at fishing? This is just for you, Young Lord. Don’t tell anyone. Next time we compete, I’m confident in fishing, at least against the Lord and my Master. My Master said it was beginner’s luck, but who knows? Maybe I was born with the talent of a fisherman.”
Geom Mugeuk asked with a smile.
“Compared to that feeling in your hands, how was it when you first executed the Heaven-Destroying Demon Sword Art?”
Seo Daeryong pondered for a moment.
“No matter what, it can’t compare to the Heaven-Destroying Demon Sword Art.”
Just then, Seo Daeryong saw. Geom Mugeuk’s gaze was directed behind his back.
Startled, Seo Daeryong’s voice shrank to the size of ants crawling.
“No, right? Please tell me it isn’t.”
Then, a cold voice came from behind.
“You seemed to be deeply troubled choosing between the feelings in your hands?”
At Hyeolcheon Doma’s voice, Seo Daeryong shot up from his seat.
“Oh no, that’s not it, Master.”
Turning around, it wasn’t just his master. Geom Woojin was standing beside Hyeolcheon Doma. Surely he hadn’t heard the part about thinking he could beat the Lord at fishing?
“If the feeling in your hands is that good, you should put down the Dao and pick up a fishing rod.”
“That’s not it, Master. It’s a misunderstanding.”
Geom Mugeuk stepped in for Seo Daeryong, who had turned pale.
“I saw the two of you coming down and casually threw some bait, and our Hwangcheon Pavilion Lord bit just like that. Fishing for people is more fun than fishing for fish. Come, sit here.”
And so, with Hwi who had been in the back, five people sat together. Geom Mugeuk went around pouring drinks for them.
The charm that rain held for people was the same whether one was the Heavenly Demon, the Young Lord, the Demon Venerable, the Chief Guard, or the Pavilion Lord. Thus, everyone immersed themselves in the atmosphere and drank.
While drinking, Geom Mugeuk looked at his father.
Was it because of the rain? His father’s eyes, which looked unusually lonely today, were not looking at the rain before him. What lay within his pupils was clearly fragments of memories.
‘Who are you thinking about?’
Apart from having grown close to his father, moments like these made him feel that he still did not know his father well.
Instead of asking his father, Geom Mugeuk asked Hyeolcheon Doma.
“Elder, is there someone you think of on rainy days?”
Hyeolcheon Doma shook his head.
“No. What about you?”
“I’m the same. I hate it when it rains because lightness skill gets slippery. I live such a parched life.”
“A young one singing the blues of life!”
Though scolding him, Hyeolcheon Doma was smiling.
“But now I have one.”
“Now you do? What do you mean?”
“The people here. Gathering together today to watch the rain—wouldn’t you think of today whenever it rains?”
At Geom Mugeuk’s words, Hyeolcheon Doma thought of his master.
‘Master, you never met a real hypocrite. That’s why you called me hypocritical.’
Perhaps being called that by his master in the first place was because he had been influenced by this real hypocrite.
‘Master should have tasted this hypocrisy long ago.’
Would his master’s life have changed then? He had said he would stop thinking about his master. But with the rain falling, his master came to mind like this.
Sssssshhhh.
And so, each lost in their own thoughts, they drank while watching the falling rain.
Then, new guests entered the inn.
Those who entered were sword-bearing female warriors. When they took off their rain capes and bamboo hats after finding seats, Seo Daeryong’s eyes widened.
He had been consciously pretending not to look since they entered, but among the three women, there was one who caught his eye.
While he was blankly staring, his eyes met hers.
Inwardly flustered, he saw the woman slightly lower her head in greeting. Seo Daeryong also returned the greeting with a light fist-and-palm salute.
It was merely a common greeting between martial artists, yet Seo Daeryong’s heart pounded fiercely like hammer blows. It was an excitement he could not contain alone.
—Did you see that just now? That woman greeted me. She even smiled.
To Seo Daeryong’s excited sound transmission, Geom Mugeuk replied.
—She smiled at me.
—What are you saying! It was me, definitely me!
Seo Daeryong drank to calm his excitement, but his heart beat even faster.
—Ah, but it’s a shame they seem to be orthodox faction women?
—They’d be relieved on their end.
—Young Lord!
—I’m joking, sorry.
Geom Mugeuk smiled and refilled his cup.
Seo Daeryong drank again and glanced toward the women.
—Ah, our eyes met again. She’s conscious of this side too.
—Which one of the three?
—Don’t look!
Seo Daeryong felt a pleasant excitement he hadn’t felt in a long time. The feeling of being alive, the feeling of ‘I am a man!’
In that moment, a poem flowed from Seo Daeryong’s lips, overcome by his high spirits.
Before Geom Mugeuk could stop him, his face flushed red with drunkenness, Seo Daeryong became a lonely swordsman setting out on a night road in the rain.
“…The lonely shadow hides in the wind, and the dream embraced by the rivers and lakes is answered by the sound of rain.”
Having been exchanging sound transmissions with Geom Mugeuk until now, Seo Daeryong had suddenly recited a poem aloud.
As the eyes of Geom Woojin, Hyeolcheon Doma, and Hwi focused on him, Seo Daeryong realized his mistake.
In that moment, he had seen neither the Lord nor his master. He had thought only of reciting a splendid poem in front of the women.
Could the effect of the poem have worked?
The women glanced this way and exchanged a few words. They were surely talking about the poem he had recited.
Shortly after, the innkeeper brought over a dish.
“The female warriors over there have sent a dish.”
Geom Mugeuk asked.
“Which one of us is it for?”
Seo Daeryong had naturally been expecting this.
—The female warriors said they enjoyed the poem.
Then, the innkeeper set the dish down in one place. Everyone looked at the person in question with surprised expressions. The innkeeper had placed the dish before none other than Geom Woojin.
Geom Woojin was still looking at the falling rain as if he had no interest.
Silence flowed.
Seo Daeryong sent a sound transmission with a pained yet still hopeful voice.
—It probably wasn’t my lady who sent it.
Geom Mugeuk had no leisure to reply to that sound transmission.
He alternated looking between his father and the dish with eyes full of jealousy.
“I think it was brought to the wrong person?”
Geom Mugeuk pulled the dish toward himself.
“At a glance, Father and I look alike, so the innkeeper must have been mistaken. This must be the right place?”
Then Geom Woojin, who until now had shown no reaction while looking outside, turned his head. With an arrogant, unconcealable victor’s smile, he pulled the dish back before himself.
“It’s mine.”