Chapter 898: Shenyang Trip (6)

Southern Hinggan Range.

Along a valley where pine-salt trees stretched coolly upward and ridgelines rose high on both sides, three riders continued their journey east.

The Hinggan Range touched the high Mongol Plateau to the northwest, and slanted down toward the low Liaoning Plains to the southeast.

So naturally, the road east was a long, long downhill.

A woman in a face veil skillfully dumps ingredients into a pot.

A little kid sticks to her side, chattering nonstop, and yet in his eyes—sparkling stars.

Of course, what’s actually inside the pot is brown and thick, with yellow oil floating on top, so it doesn’t look like something a human should eat, but anyway.

Whenever an open, flat stretch appeared, they’d spur the horses and a race would break out.

“Race” was a generous word—because it always ended the moment the black horse went wild on its own and the other two horses started losing steam.

When the woman on the black horse clutched her waist and flopped down onto the ground with a granny-like “Owww,” the black horse would lift its head triumphantly and let out a pleased whinny.

A child making a fuss because he saw a pheasant.

Then, immediately, drool goes CHUURRUK down the woman’s mouth, and she pulls out the Mongol shortbow tied to the horse and shows it to the kid.

Stars sparkle in the kid’s eyes again, and the woman and child laugh brightly and fling themselves into the forest together.

The man left behind with the three horses smiles warmly, crosses his arms, and leans against a tree.

After a long while.

The woman returns with a massive wild boar slung by the back of its neck, each hand clamped onto a foreleg and hindleg—while the kid at her side looks ridiculously excited.

The man thinks: What about the pheasant?

In a nameless small village they stopped by on the way, a feast even broke out.

If you had to name it, a wild-boar feast—opened because a traveler who’d brought down a huge wild boar weighing nearly four hundred jin dumped the spoils for free.

One hundred li east of Joyang County: Bukpyo County.

Two hundred li east of Bukpyo County: Busin County.

Covering three hundred li in two days was definitely fast, considering how much they’d been fooling around and wasting time.

And so—Busin County!

Busin County had a state horse ranch, and two thousand-house garrisons for defending against northern raiders.

A military stronghold.

A military city.

Meaning: just the soldiers numbered two thousand two hundred, and if you counted their families, the population was no joke.

The odd thing was—there were Wudang temples—

Huh. Wudang? Out of nowhere? In a border backwater like this?

It was Wudang, and it wasn’t.

The Central Plains were wide, and primitive ancient communication didn’t really reach everywhere, so every town and region had something like local folk faith settled in.

Not the main line, but some slightly different offshoot—similar, but not.

In the Central Plains’ words: “similar-but-not” faiths.

Even Qing’s home county, where the Priestess Order Temple was, officially worshiped the Great Sun Tathagata—

but in practice it was a bizarre local faith where that Great Sun Tathagata took the form of a woman, and it was running rampant.

By the same logic, the Wudang temples in Busin County weren’t the Wudang of the martial world—

they were folk temples that worshiped Zhang Sanfeng, Wudang’s founder, as a god.

Why?

Because this was the hometown of Teacher Jang Jeonil of Sambong—known to be the hometown of Daoist Master Zhang Sanfeng!

“Oh. Daoist Master Zhang Sanfeng...”

Even so, it wasn’t really worth sightseeing.

These weren’t facilities for tourists—these were local temples where residents actually offered devotion.

And in the first place, cities with an army garrison big enough to have real scale weren’t exactly tourist attractions.

So they were just going to sleep one night and leave quietly—

After an absurdly early dinner, baking herself in hot water, setting out a whole spread of snacks and eating it...

Qing ordered snacks again.

“Beggar Sister, you’re eating again...?”

“Why? It’s not like we have anything else to do.”

“Uh... I don’t think normal people eat snacks just because they have nothing to do.”

“That’s the limit of an ordinary person. Someone special like me has to be different. A person who eats snacks and eats snacks again. A person who eats snacks when there’s nothing to do. That is me.”

“Gasp.”

Moyong Jun takes on the expression of someone who’s just gained a profound enlightenment and sinks into thought.

Distance remaining to Shenyang: about four hundred fifty li.

To the east of Busin County, a thin, tall ridge called Pagoda Mountain stretched long, up and down.

If you were riding to Shenyang, it was faster and easier to detour over Pagoda Mountain.

Because in mountain roads, horses and people moved at similar speeds, and if there wasn’t even a road, there were countless terrains horses simply couldn’t pass at all.

Even so, Qing climbed Pagoda Mountain anyway.

Why? Because Qing’s travel was always straight-line, trusting her body to cut the shortest distance even without roads, like a man—

No.

Because Moyong Jun said it would be good to see the summit once.

And so—Pagoda Mountain summit.

“Ooooh.”

Qing let out a sound at the sight of the vast plain stretching endlessly, endlessly to the east.

Liaoning Province’s terrain was like three diagonal slices—great mountain ranges on both sides with a grand plain wedged between.

To the southeast, the Changbai Mountain range blocked the Joseon peninsula hard.

To the northwest, the Greater Hinggan Range formed the boundary with Mongol lands.

And Pagoda Mountain was the far eastern end of the lower Greater Hinggan Range—

so it boasted a breathtaking view where the vast Liaodong Plain filled the eye in one sweep.

They said if it was autumn, the weather was good, and a sharp-eyed person stood at the summit, they could even see the Changbai range rising black on the edge of the horizon, and beneath it the great city Shenyang.

Sadly, in this season, yellow dust winds blew in from the Mongol desert, so even Qing’s eyesight couldn’t manage it.

And from Pagoda Mountain’s summit, four hundred li.

An endless, solid plain—perfect terrain for horses to run.

In the middle of the four-hundred-li road to Shenyang, Changmu County sat at the two-hundred-li mark, so they could sleep one night.

Then leave after breakfast the next morning, and enter Shenyang at a relaxed pace around Monkey Hour.

And so—Shenyang!

Shenyang was one of the Central Plains’ ancient capitals with a history of two thousand years—

a great city that never lost its place as the largest city in the northeast of the Central Plains.

In the past, it had boomed massively as an intermediary point for Goryeo merchants who led Central Plains culture—

but after another dynasty came in, they said it could no longer reach that level of prosperity.

Still, Joseon merchants, Jurchens who came for barter, and even Greenwood Demon Noseoa merchants from beyond the Jurchens still passed through—

so it remained a city of the northeast’s greatest flourishing.

To Qing, it was an oddly fascinating sight.

It was undeniably a primitive ancient Central Plains city, yet here and there—

weren’t Western Regions hook-nosed foreigners appearing?

And those Western Regions hook-nosed foreigners were rattling off fluent Central Plains speech, so it made her feel like cognitive dissonance was about to hit.

Mm. But... their noses really are incredible.

So that’s why they’re called hook-nosed.

And when they reached the far southeastern edge of Shenyang, at last—

beyond the long, straight main road, the magnificent gate of a vast manor revealed itself.

On the signboard above it, four great characters were carved in bold, flowing brush.

MOYONG UNDER HEAVEN!

It was the Moyong Family’s main stronghold.

As they rode up, the gate guard bowed his head and smiled warmly.

“Young Master has arrived? How was your running away from home? You suffered, didn’t you—once you leave home, it’s always bitter. How far did you go?”

“Geonpyeong? I even saw Mongol barbarians.”

“Ah, it’s best not to look at such savages. Even if Green Guard is with you—well, Green Guard surely watched over you, of course—but, ah, and who might this young lady be?”

“Ah, this is Beggar Sis—”

“My name is Seomun Cheong. Undeservedly, people call me by the name Cheonhwa.”

Qing cut off the Beggar Sister that was about to burst out and offered a proper greeting.

The gate guard startled, snapped into posture, and raised a respectful clasped-fist salute.

“My apologies! I am Namnyeong Beauty of the Outer Court! It is an honor to meet the martial world’s Divine Dragon! I will relay word to the Chief Steward at once. Seongchuya—our honored guest has arrived, so guide her to the Upper-Clear Guest House—”

“Ah, I’ll do it.”

“Ah, the Young Master will? Yes, then I will take my leave for a moment.”

From the way he was treated, Moyong Jun was clearly the beloved young master of the family.

Well... the kid was a bit lacking in manners, but he really was a good kid......

“Over there is Crow-Medicine Pavilion. They say it got that name because Great-Great-Grandfather Gohyeon loved crows. Now it’s used as the Inner-Court Guards’ lodging, and next to that is Tiger-Flower Hall, where the Inner-Court Guards train, and next to that is Lake-Side Pavilion, the inner-court dining hall, and there’s always mountains of Shenyang Sesame Pastry there—oh, do you know Shenyang Sesame Pastry? It’s really good. And come to think of it, in the inner court there’s squad leader Ju Hyeok, and the Inner-Court Guards are really scared of him, but with the older sister who helps out at Lake-Side Pavilion, he really holds back, and I even saw him getting dragged away by the ear once—”

Moyong Jun, as always, didn’t leave a single moment of silence.

Qing was mostly letting it go in one ear and out the other, but—

“Ah, but sometimes squad leader Ju Hyeok kind of explodes too, I think. The other day the two of them went down into the basement, and I could even hear the older sister crying, but when they came out they were holding hands really tight and smiling, and oh right—about the basement—”

“Wait, Jun. Have you ever told that story to anyone?”

“Uh... my father, the Guard Captain uncle, and squad leader Yang, and...”

Moyong Jun starts counting on his fingers, but somehow even after folding them all down, he doesn’t stop—he opens them again and keeps listing names Qing doesn’t recognize.

Qing nods.

Yeah. So it’s a “secret romance” everyone in the world knows about.

And then—

“Young Lady!”

With a cry full of aching longing, the sound of feet pounding the ground—TAT-TAT-TAT—rushed closer fast.

When Qing turned her head, a familiar figure came flying in on lightness art, her belt cinched tight, the angle of her thin waist bending under that narrow curve almost absurd.

It was Golden Sun Sword Flower—one of the Five Flowers of the Martial World, the beauty of this era who was said to represent fairness.

It was Moyong Juhee.

Even after rushing over, the way she stopped in front of Qing and timidly checked her mood—so Moyong-young-lady of her.

It was like the pathetic trembling of a small animal.

The kind of attitude that naturally makes you want to tease her.

So when Qing narrowed her eyes, Juhee started fidgeting with her fingers.

For a brief while, she stalled like that.

Then Qing suddenly relaxed her expression and spread both arms wide—

and only then did Juhee finally throw herself into Qing’s arms.

A modest, soft build—and at the same time, a sweet-and-tart peach-scented fragrance hit her in a rush.

“Moyong Young Lady. Have you been well?”

“Y-yes! And you, Young Lady?”

“Me? Every day is just ‘doing well’ itself. I was on my way to Changbai, but Jun ran away from home, so I figured I’d escort him back.”

“Ah, Jun...”

“Sis, I’m back. Hehe.”

“Welcome back. You’re not hurt anywhere, right?”

“Yeah! It was fun. We camped out, and we hunted, and we even caught a wild boar and butchered it—Sis, have you ever caught a wild boar? We hung it up and cut its throat, and we even roasted and ate the snout, and then, then—”

Side by side, they really did look like siblings.

Jun’s future probably had a guaranteed pretty-boy waiting for him—yeah, his height was a little tragic, but if his face was exceptional, it balanced out, didn’t it.

“...Ah, right. I even beat Mongol barbarians? I beat one and hid, but Beggar Sister beat like thirty, spinning around like WHOOSH-WHOOSH—”

“Wait.”

Juhee’s expression hardened.

How could an older sister not worry when her little brother said he fought barbarians?

So Juhee, with a stiff face full of worry—

“Over thirty... Seomun Young Lady, you weren’t hurt, were you? Mongol bandit-raider packs—martial arts aside, their methods are extremely crafty, and you weren’t injured, right? You don’t really dodge arrows, and Mongols use an Archery Method, so if you didn’t know that—Seomun Young Lady definitely wouldn’t have known—so you weren’t hit anywhere, right?”

Juhee pats Qing down.

Mm. This side?

But why are you acting like it’s a given that I wouldn’t know—well, I didn’t know, but still.

Anyway.

Like that—

They entered the Moyong Family.