Spending all day sitting in a carriage was a real chore. The snow-covered main road looked flat at a glance, but the hidden surface was uneven. Like a ferry on the sea, the carriage swayed gently without rest, moving over the pure white snowfield.
Every time it hit a deep puddle or a small stone, it would lurch up and down violently, as if meeting a rough wave. This went on for days, not just one or two, and my bottom was sore and my back ached. It was no use, even when I made a thick cushion from cotton cloth to sit on.
With no other choice, we had to stop the carriage every two hours, and everyone would get out to stretch. With each passing day, the breath we exhaled grew whiter and thicker. We hadn't even entered Shaanxi yet, but perhaps because my heart was anxious, the air already carried the chill of the north.
Though all I did was ride in the carriage all day, by the time evening came and we stayed at an inn, my body felt quite heavy. Even after a full night's sleep, I didn't feel refreshed. Even when I wandered as a swordsman, I had rarely felt such severe travel fatigue.
Back then, when I was hired as a swordsman and had to leave for another region, I usually walked on my own two feet if possible. I had ridden in carriages, but never for such a long distance over several days like this time. Circulating my energy would have helped, but I couldn't even dare to try.
It was unlikely anything would happen, but if by some chance I were disturbed, I could fall into qi deviation and die or become crippled. After four days of diligent travel, we finally entered the territory of Shaanxi Province. It was exactly the fifth day since we had departed from Gaehyeon.
The mountains disappeared, and a vast plain unfolded. The wide-open view was filled entirely with a pure white snowfield. The snow had stopped two days ago, and the sky was a clear, vivid blue.
The midwinter cold was stronger than the sunlight, so the piled-up snow had not yet melted and remained as it was. Tang Hye-seo sat with her arm propped on the window frame, staring blankly at the snowy plains. A cold beauty who resembled winter, sitting like that, she looked like a living, breathing painting of a fair lady.
Without taking her eyes off the scenery, Tang Hye-seo murmured.
“It’s beautiful, yet desolate…”
My own impression, having been born and raised by farming parents, was a little different.
“Under that snowfield, the barley planted in the autumn is probably ripening.”
“Barley?”
Tang Hye-seo looked around the vast snowy landscape with a new perspective.
“This place looks like a wasteland, though?”
“Look at the ridges of the fields showing through the snow. There are small storehouses here and there, too. Farmers are people who will go up into the mountains to find land to cultivate, even if it means clearing a slash-and-burn field. There’s no way they would leave a plain of this size abandoned.”
When a lot of snow falls in winter, the next year's barley harvest is a bountiful one. This is because the thick layer of snow acts as a warm cotton blanket, protecting the barley sprouts from the cold and preventing them from freezing. The reason farmers welcome the first snow is not for sentimental reasons or unforgettable memories.
It was a matter of survival, on which the lives of their entire family depended. If the autumn harvest had been poor, the first snow was an even more welcome sight. Thinking of the barley they would harvest next summer and eat their fill, it felt as if rice was pouring down from the sky.
When the snow melted in spring, it also solved the spring drought, so from the farmers' perspective, the more snow, the better. I suddenly thought of Sister Soso's family, who were likely living under the care of the Western Shadow Sword Sect.
If they were farming, Sister Soso would probably have been happy to see the first snow this year too. Still, I hoped they weren't so destitute as to have to pin their hopes on next year's barley harvest... As I was lost in thought, swaying gently from side to side, the carriage suddenly tilted sharply to the left.
CRASH!!! NEEEIGH!!
Quickly grabbing the window frame, I instinctively reached out. Tang Hye-seo clung to the frame and fell into my arms. Gwang-hyo had already picked up the hot teapot from the brazier and was balancing himself at an angle.
When I went outside, I saw the front wheel of the carriage was stuck in a deep hole. Jeon-sang and Jang Tae had been thrown from the coachman's seat to the front of the carriage. Fortunately, they had landed on the horses and were not seriously injured.
The horses were startled but unharmed. Jeon-sang skillfully soothed the horses, grabbed the reins, and moved them forward. The carriage twitched and shuddered but could not get out of the hole.
Jeon-sang scratched his head with a troubled expression.
“Looks like we’re going to have to push this thing.”
"Move aside."
As I and Jang Tae rolled up our sleeves and stepped forward, Gwang-hyo pushed us aside and stepped up. Slowly raising his inner energy, he grabbed the carriage wheel stuck in the mud with both hands, lifted it, and pushed it to the side.
A large carriage loaded with cargo must have been incredibly heavy, but Gwang-hyo showed no sign of strain. The unbelievable, monstrous strength of the Shaolin monk wasn't natural; it was the power of inner energy. Of course, even if I used my inner energy, I probably couldn't produce that much power yet.
Jeon-sang and Jang Tae, who knew nothing of inner energy, stood with their mouths agape.
“The internal arts training of Shaolin is really something else…”
Tang Hye-seo, while impressed, glanced at me sideways with a curious expression. It felt like she was subtly trying to find out if I knew how to use inner energy, so I deliberately ignored her, rolling my shoulders and stretching. The carriage sped along the main road once more.
We continued on until the blood-red sunset spread between the white snowfield and the blue sky. Seven years ago, when Sister Soso's family and the villagers traveled up this road, it must have been autumn. Now, it is winter.
I was very late, but I hoped I wasn't too late. Soothing my slightly stirring, anxious heart, I spent another day on the road. * After entering Shaanxi Province, I asked about the Western Shadow Sword Sect at every inn we stopped at.
It was a school founded by a lay disciple of the Mount Hua Sect, yet no one knew of it. I supposed that was possible, as the Mount Hua Sect had more than a few lay disciple sects. And since it wasn't flourishing but rather in decline, it made sense that it would fall from public interest.
Four days later, as we passed through Ankang, I dropped off Jang Tae.
“Is this the place?”
“Yes, Brother. That’s the village over there.”
The coachman, Jeon-sang, looked down at the village Jang Tae was pointing to and let out a low sigh. It seemed he was sad to part with a new sworn brother he had gotten along so well with.
“I don’t know if we’ll see each other again.”
“Aren’t you coming back this way after you finish your business in Shaanxi? Please stop by then.”
“Alright. I’ll be sure to come, so don’t go anywhere and wait.”
After enthusiastically agreeing to fleece some suckers together at the gambling tables later, Jang Tae ran off toward his hometown. Jeon-sang watched his retreating back for a long time before slowly driving the carriage away.
* Five days later, when we reached the vicinity of Xunyang, we were finally able to meet people who knew of the Western Shadow Sword Sect. They had no connection to the sword school; they were just gossips who had picked up on floating rumors.
"The master there is said to be a notorious wastrel. I heard he squandered the sect's foundation on wine and women."
“But isn’t the young master said to be diligent?”
“What good is that when it’s already on the verge of collapse, about to have its sign taken down?”
It was exactly as I had heard from the Western Village branch of the Underworld Information Clan. Though they wagged their tongues excitedly for a few coins, they didn't know the reason for the master's downfall. I had heard his will was broken by the frustration of not being able to catch his father's killer.
There might have been room for sympathy, but no one mentioned a word of it. Pa-hong-ri, where the Western Shadow Sword Sect was located, was a two-day journey west from Xunyang. Mount Zhongnan was about ten days further north from there.
Gwang-hyo and Tang Hye-seo decided to visit the sword school with me to lend their support. Passing through a quiet country road, we entered a low mountain path. The carriage, rounding a pine-lined slope, suddenly came to a halt.
"Bandits!"
Jeon-sang quickly drew his sword and jumped down from the coachman's seat. When I came out the back door, six dark-clad bandits, looking like wild beasts, had their swords drawn and were licking their lips. Tang Hye-seo quietly put her hands into her sleeves.
Gwang-hyo seemed to have no intention of stepping in, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, just watching. I could just cut down the likes of bandits, but I didn't feel like it. We were not far from the Western Shadow Sword Sect.
I didn't want to reunite with Sister Soso reeking of blood. But I couldn't just stand by and do nothing either. I looked around, cut a suitable bamboo stalk, and trimmed off the branches.
Tang Hye-seo looked at me quizzically.
"What are you doing?"
“Just wait a moment. It’ll be over soon.”
Twirling the bamboo staff, I stepped forward. As I approached, the bandits spread out to the sides, surrounding me.
“How dare this son of a bitch look down on the men of Gamak Fortress…”
WHACK!
Before his threatening words could finish, I swung the bamboo staff and knocked one of them down.
"Kill him!"
When the man who was hit shouted, the bandits all charged at once. It wasn't that they were forcing themselves to be brave because they couldn't disobey their leader's command. It seemed they judged it was worth a try, since all I was holding was a mere bamboo staff.
Their gloomy, gleaming faces were full of confidence that they could slice through something like bamboo in a single stroke. Cutting bamboo with a sword is not such an easy task. You have to cut in a straight line without any wobble in your wrist.
It seems easy, but without specific practice, no matter how sharp the sword, it would only leave a scratch on a bamboo staff. It was even more difficult when the target was moving.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Whack! Whack!
Parrying their blindly swung, sightless blades, I knocked down five of the bandits in an instant. Looking down at the bandits groaning on the ground, I shook my head.
"Consider yourselves lucky. I didn't want to kill today, so I held back."
I threw the staff into the forest and turned around.
“Let’s go.”
As I was about to board the carriage, a strong presence stirred in the forest behind the bandits. A bandit, who had run down the mountain path until he was out of breath, was horrified to see his fallen comrades.
“Huff, huff, you son of a bitch.”
Trembling, he desperately glanced around before backing away and disappearing into the forest. There was no reason to chase him, so I let him go. The bandits I had beaten also stealthily got up and fled into the forest.
SWISH! SWISH! SWISH!
“Aaargh!”
“W-wait!”
The clash of steel and screams boiled up from the forest where the bandits had disappeared, then fell silent. A moment later, a martial artist holding a sword emerged. After scanning the carriage and our group, the man raised a hand.
"Rest assured. We are righteous heroes who have come to subjugate the bandits."
As I watched with narrowed eyes, three more martial artists with swords appeared behind him. It was clear they were martial artists out on the righteous path. In this world, there was nothing easier for martial artists to kill than bandits.
They were villains who deserved to die, so no one would say a word even if their methods were cruel. And being deep in the mountains, there would be no witnesses if any problems arose. Among the sturdy men, one slender figure stood out.
The person's hair was tied up, and they wore a bamboo hat with a narrow brim. Though I couldn't see the face, it seemed to be a woman.
“So they were here? No wonder there were only a few of them at the fortress.”
At the sound of the woman's tongue-clicking voice, my heart pounded violently. My whole body trembled, and in an instant, my vision blurred. I swallowed dryly and listened intently.
There was no mistake.
Ten years...
The woman's voice was like a gentle breeze blowing from the far side of ten long years, from the warm, distant edge of my childhood. It had matured with those years, and had been weathered by the storms of that time, making it far more mature and unfamiliar than I remembered.
As if sensing my emotionally overwhelmed gaze, the woman lifted the brim of her bamboo hat and looked at me. As I faced her slender, sun-kissed features that I had missed so dearly, faded memories came back to life one by one.
The spring when we picked bamboo shoots together and she skillfully folded bamboo leaves to make me a pinwheel. The summer when she took me, an orphan who had lost his parents in a flood, into her arms and brought me home. The autumn when we played tag and ran around the fields after the harvest.
The winter when she watched me being dragged away by a strange man with a sword, helplessly following me to the edge of the village, shedding tears. Unforgettable seasons and memories wrapped around my heart, leaving it heavy with emotion. Wiping the bandit's blood from her face, Sister Soso looked over me and my companions.
"Where are you all from?"