WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 124: When Young, I Knew Not Sorrow's Taste (29)
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<A Letter Presented to My Adoptive Father>
(A letter to his adoptive father)
Father.
It is Sowol.
I am currently in Yuezhou, Hunan.
This truly is a great city.
There is even a professional merchant company here that will deliver letters as far as Shinheung County for a fee.
Is Guangdong at peace?
Is the Martial Alliance thriving?
Are you in good health?
Lately, I have developed a habit of imagining all sorts of things before bed.
Have you grown accustomed to your duties as alliance leader by now?
What positions have Brother Muhyeok, Brother Jehun, and Mo Cheong taken in the Martial Alliance?
Does Great Hero Chu Jinhyeok still carry dog dung with him?
Has Great Hero Noh Huideok safely finished his closed-door seclusion?
When I imagine such things, the night quickly grows late, and I fall asleep.
I am doing well.
Perhaps I am doing too well.
I have built a reputation and made friends.
There is now hardly anyone in Hunan who does not know me, and that boast is not the slightest exaggeration.
Even if I went to Wudang now, I would surely be received as an honored guest.
There is so much I want to learn.
I have refined my own realizations alone for so long. Perhaps if I lean against the great tree that is Wudang, I will see another horizon. Perhaps I will be able to examine what I do not yet know from a higher vantage point.
Now that I know the martial arts of the Nine Great Sects and One Gang can offer that much, I am looking forward to it greatly.
As I have until now,
I will continue to work hard.
As I have learned,
I will grow stronger.
I myself will grow stronger.
Then, when the time comes, I will take all that I have learned and return to Guangdong. I will share pleasant cups of wine with you, Father, and with the seniors and friends of Guangdong.
When I think of that day, even life in a foreign land feels like a pleasant journey.
Until we meet again, please remain healthy in both body and mind.
With that, I respectfully close this letter.
<Respectfully, Yeon Sowol>
-
Yeon Sowol set down his brush and examined the letter again and again.
To make sure he had not written any characters incorrectly.
To make sure none of the sentences were awkward.
Only after checking it carefully did he nod and set the paper down. The sharp scent of drying ink stung his nose.
Stretching, he looked around the room.
Freshly copied books were piled haphazardly beside the bed.
<Jinling Secret Manual>
<Mysterious Rosy Clouds Secret Manual>
<Treatise on No Emotion, No Mind>
<Record of Seeking the One>
······.
They were secret manuals.
Back in Korea, the term secret manual often referred to things like prophecy books or fortunes. In the martial world, it meant something else.
A book in which a martial artist recorded their realizations.
It differed from a martial arts manual, whose purpose was to pass down martial arts themselves.
The principles of the Void and all creation that its author had pursued.
The knowledge and state of mind needed for proper cultivation.
Such books recorded more subjective realizations, so their effects naturally differed greatly from person to person. One person might gain a great insight from a single volume and break through to a higher realm, while another might only become more confused.
Even so, secret manuals remained immensely popular.
Especially among masters at late first-rate or above.
Those who wrote them were, as a rule, masters of the peak realm or higher.
The peak realm was where one established a martial philosophy of one's own and perfected harmony with a distinctive qi. The realizations such masters shared inevitably contained unique perspectives on martial arts and interesting understandings of the harmony of all creation. Other masters would devour the insights left behind by their predecessors and reflect on what they themselves possessed.
Twelve such books now sat in Yeon Sowol's room.
Every one of them was a treasure coveted by anyone in the Jianghu, written by renowned masters of earlier generations.
Yeon Sowol picked one up.
Flip. Flip.
He peered into someone's world, engraved word by word.
“······I really gained a lot from this martial arts tournament.”
Originally, these books had been prepared as prizes for the martial artists selected as the Twelve Earthly Branches.
One for each person.
Precious treasures that the merchant guilds sponsoring the tournament had worked themselves to death to obtain.
But as the host, Yeon Sowol had no reason to choose only one.
He already had all twelve books in hand, so why not copy them?
Precious treasures.
A miracle that allowed secret manuals, the kind one would never pass down except to family or a direct disciple, to be duplicated.
That was how Yeon Sowol and his friends divided up twelve copied volumes.
His gaze softened as he looked down at the books.
“Every volume I read makes the universe deeper.”
Naturally, the one who benefited most from reading all twelve books was Yeon Sowol. His realization could embrace every realization in the world.
The next to benefit most was probably Namgung Ujin. The Namgung Family's Great Expansion was also a martial art that embraced all things as the heavens did.
In any case, Yeon Sowol had truly gained much.
“Just when I think there can't be anything more to gain, something else keeps appearing.”
How much more would he learn when he went to Wudang?
“Once the Mid-Autumn Festival passes, I should head for Mount Wudang.”
By then, the ink on the letter had completely dried. Yeon Sowol carefully folded it and placed it in an envelope.
“The matter of pursuing the Demonic Path's people has reached some sort of conclusion too, even if it was inconclusive.”
He recalled what Moyong Ha had told him yesterday.
His expression became uncertain.
* * *
What Moyong Ha said had differed from everyone's expectations.
After selecting all Twelve Earthly Branches, they had gathered at an inn, and she told them what she had learned after visiting the government office.
“I searched the entire office. There was nothing.”
No evidence of wrongdoing.
“There wasn't a trace of the Demonic Path. There was no sign that anyone had hurriedly cleaned something up either. I think what I sensed then was probably because one of the Demonic Path's people happened to be visiting the office. In any case, my conclusion is that the Yuezhou government office and Yuezhou's provincial governor have nothing to do with the jiangshi incident.”
Yeon Sowol had been a little stunned when he heard that.
‘I’d assumed they were definitely connected?’
He had openly ignored Yuezhou's provincial governor's warning and caused this huge commotion by holding a martial arts tournament.
‘I’d been barking up the wrong tree······?’
Moyong Ha looked apologetic.
“You all worked so hard, and I'm sorry. My instincts were wrong this time. Still, thank you. The Moyong Family will never forget this help. Especially you, Sowol. Thank you. We Moyongs never forget a kindness.”
“Ha.”
“Well, even so, make sure you finish the rest of the tournament properly. If you stop it now, the people of Yuezhou might burn you alive. Besides, you all have things to gain from the tournament too.”
That was true, but Yeon Sowol's thoughts were a mess.
The martial arts tournament had started because of Moyong Ha, yet its meaning had vanished overnight.
“What will you do now?”
“I suppose I'll look for the Demonic Path's trail again. Still, I plan to stay here a few days and rest. Maybe draw some portraits. Aren't you all taking a few days off until the next bouts anyway?”
As she brought up portraits, Moyong Ha winked at Jin Geol, Namgung Ujin, and the others.
Both men flushed.
“Finally!”
Jin Geol even clenched his fist and burst out in delight.
“Well, anyway. If Yuezhou's provincial governor isn't involved, that seems like good news in its own way.”
Won Huiseung suddenly spoke up.
It was not wrong, so everyone nodded.
The mood relaxed.
Yet Yeon Sowol kept staring at Moyong Ha, unable to shake a nagging discomfort.
“Ha.”
“Yeah?”
“Is that really true?”
“What is?”
“······.”
“Yeah?”
“Are you really okay?”
“Honestly, I'm not okay.”
Moyong Ha stuck out her tongue.
“I have my reasons for needing to catch the Demonic Path's people. But I came up empty-handed, so it doesn't feel good. I thought I had finally caught their trail this time.”
She looked playful, yet somehow lonely.
“Uh, well. Hang in there.”
Yeon Sowol comforted her without even realizing it.
“Thanks.”
Moyong Ha smiled.
Whenever he thought back on that day, Yeon Sowol could not help feeling that something was off.
Still, all he could do was furrow his brow in frustration.
“She said she found nothing······. There’s not much I can say.”
And he was too busy to dwell on a concern that would not resolve itself.
“Great Hero Yeon! Great Hero Yeon! Over here! This way!”
After the Twelve Earthly Branches had been chosen, every day on the shore of Yuezhou's Dongseong Lake was a celebration. Everyone was desperate to share a drink with Yeon Sowol.
Not a single boat floated upon Dongting Lake, where Yuezhou's provincial governor had imposed a travel ban. Only dark night waves filled its surface, with starlight pouring down above them.
People of the Jianghu drank day and night as they admired the spectacular view.
Since the Twelve Earthly Branches had been selected, the atmosphere was like a festival.
In truth, the Yuezhou martial arts tournament was not over yet.
Once the Twelve Earthly Branches had been selected, their order had to be decided as well.
Still, the Twelve Earthly Branches were special. Yeon Sowol had declared that there would be no more eliminations after this.
As Yeon Sowol saw it, the stage after the Twelve Earthly Branches was a kind of ranking match. Over a set period, victories and defeats would earn points that determined each person's placement.
That made the Twelve Earthly Branches a special title in itself, and celebratory drinking parties were held lavishly in every inn, pleasure house, estate, and tavern.
“Great Hero Yeon! Have a drink before you go! You crushed me so brutally, so if you won't even share a drink with me, I'll be hurt!”
The one shouting was Storm Thrust Ryu Cheon.
Yeon Sowol had defeated him in just five exchanges.
Yet Ryu Cheon's face held nothing but goodwill. Yeon Sowol mentioning his name had moved him deeply.
“Of course. We should have a drink. It would be an honor.”
Yeon Sowol smiled easily and walked toward Ryu Cheon.
“Ryu Cheon.”
A master stepped between them and planted a large hand on Ryu Cheon's shoulder.
It was Iron Sand Palm Kang In-su.
He looked steadily at Ryu Cheon and said only one word.
“Yield.”
“Pardon? Pardon?”
“Yield.”
“B-but, Senior. You know I lost rather shamefully. I should at least have a drink with Great Hero Yeon and get it off my chest. I'll truly share just one drink with him, then let him go.”
“Yield.”
“Senior······.”
Ryu Cheon was about to protest, but flinched.
The hand pressing down on his shoulder was no joke. Its weight. Its firmness.
‘H-how shameless······!’
He was using force to pressure a junior, all so he could speak to Yeon Sowol first.
Ryu Cheon's face reddened, but he feared Kang In-su's martial prowess too much to argue.
That was when someone spoke.
“In-su. Wait your turn.”
“Ah······. Senior Jin Hyeogo.”
A man in his fifties with graying whiskers lightly grabbed Kang In-su's shoulder.
Kang In-su's expression soured.
It was Hunan's foremost spear wielder, Jin Hyeogo.
A peak-realm master considered one of the strongest at the Yuezhou martial arts tournament. Kang In-su was no match for him.
“Urgh······. My apologies.”
Kang In-su withdrew reluctantly.
Ryu Cheon's face brightened at once.
‘Ah! Senior is looking after me because I use a spear too!’
Spearmen understood one another.
‘As expected······. The great senior I dream of becoming!’
Warmth filled Ryu Cheon's chest, and his eyes shone.
“Senior······!”
“Ryu Cheon.”
“Yes.”
“I looked at your spear once before, didn't I?”
“Ah? Yes.”
That had happened.
Jin Hyeogo had really only watched for a quarter of a gak and offered one comment.
It had not been particularly helpful, more like a small show of goodwill from a senior who used the same weapon.
Hunan's foremost spear wielder brought up that occasion.
“You owe me a favor, don't you?”
“Pardon?”
“You owe me a favor, don't you?”
“Ah······. Yes······.”
“Good. Repay it now.”
“······.”
“I want to share a drink with this friend, Yeon Sowol.”
“······Yes······.”
Ryu Cheon's shoulders slumped.
‘A peak-realm master who represents Hunan······. A respected elder of the Jianghu······. My dream······. To think he’s this petty!’
Once Ryu Cheon stepped aside, Jin Hyeogo grinned and shook the bottle of alcohol he had brought.
“So that's how it is. Yeon Seonhong, have a drink with me.”
“It would be an honor, Senior.”
Yeon Sowol smiled wryly at the contest unfolding without regard for his wishes and followed behind Jin Hyeogo.
He was only bewildered, not dissatisfied. No matter what, speaking with a peak-realm master would surely help him, whether in terms of connections or martial arts.
Days like that passed.
They drank.
They talked.
They shared their realizations.
Jin Geol, Namgung Ujin, and Hwangbo Hwi rejoiced after receiving portraits from Moyong Ha.
Namgung Ujin, in particular, often took his portrait out and could not stop smiling.
When people saw it, they said, “As expected, Young Master Namgung must be in love with Young Lady Moyong!”
Namgung Ujin immediately turned stern again.
“Do you think love among people of great martial families is anything like yours? Do you have any idea how much one must consider before speaking so carelessly?”
Naturally, everyone who heard him shook their heads.
Yeon Sowol suddenly remembered a verse Moyong Ha had taught him.
“This feeling, too, becomes a memory only after waiting for time······.”
This feeling, too, becomes a memory only after waiting for time.
It was said to be Moyong Ha's favorite poem.
Then another line came to mind.
“When young, I knew not sorrow's taste.”
When one was young, one did not know the true taste of sorrow.
You loved without realizing it was love.
You were happy without realizing you were happy.
You only understood when you looked back later.
“Is that what it means after all?”
Still, he could not quite understand the next line of “This feeling, too, becomes a memory only after waiting for time.”
“Already? I-It's that word, ‘already,’ that's confusing······.”
Yeon Sowol tilted his head.
Then, that night.
Moyong Ha came to see him.
As though it were only natural, the two went for a night walk.
“I'm leaving.”
Yeon Sowol's eyes widened.
“You're leaving?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you tell the others?”
Moyong Ha smiled.
“What for? Why say whether I'm leaving or not? We're people of the Jianghu. That's too sentimental.”
“Uh, still. If you disappear suddenly, they might worry.”
Moyong Ha grinned.
“It'll be fine. The people who care will find out eventually. They'll ask around.”
“Is that so······.”
Still, she told me.
That thought suddenly came to Yeon Sowol, but he did not mention it. It was too sentimental.
He said something else instead.
“With you gone, I suppose I should finish the tournament simply.”
“Hm?”
“I had planned something to stir up more commotion, but there is no need to use it anymore.”
Moyong Ha's eyes lit up.
“Use it.”
“Huh? There's no need.”
“No. I wanted to visit Junshan Island one last time before leaving Dongting Lake. But Yuezhou's provincial governor imposed a travel ban on Dongting Lake, so I can't go.”
“So?”
“If you make a big enough fuss, I can sneak in comfortably and look around one last time.”
“······You want me to cause that commotion so you can sightsee?”
“We're friends, aren't we? If you really don't like it, consider this payment.”
Moyong Ha tossed him a jade token.
“This is······.”
“A jade token given to a benefactor of the Moyong Family. If you bring that to our home, they’ll grant you one thing you want. They would even give you a supreme-grade martial arts manual if you asked for one.”
“Eh······?”
“Put it away. Go on.”
Moyong Ha took Yeon Sowol's hand, made him tuck the jade token into his robes, then sprang back.
“Well, I'm going.”
“Just like this?”
“I have things to take care of. I'll be busy for a few days, then I'll take one more look around Junshan Island and leave. I don't think we'll have a chance to meet in the meantime.”
Moonlight poured down that night.
The night waves of Dongting Lake shimmered silver.
Moyong Ha's cloudlike hair melted into the darkness, as though the night itself had become her hair.
“See you again.”
She waved her hand like a bird flapping its wings.
Whoosh-
Without even a sound from her footsteps, she left.
“······.”
In an instant, he could no longer find a trace of her.
Yeon Sowol turned with a hollow laugh.
“Yeah. See you again.”
People of the Jianghu really did whatever they pleased.
He merely shook his head.
Footnotes:
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