Whenever I returned to my longed-for home in my dreams, Sister Soso always looked exactly as she had the last time I saw her. The one who had changed was always me. I had grown taller than her, and the baby fat had vanished from my face.
A long knife hung at my back, and my body reeked of blood. Even though she had taken refuge in a sword school, I thought she would be farming the sect's land or living as a maid. The Sister Soso I knew becoming a martial artist was something I couldn't even imagine.
That's why I never once even considered the possibility. Killing people is not something just anyone can do. Sister Soso's family, like mine, were farmers who had tilled the land for generations.
Farmers are people who, no matter how hard or unfair life gets, steadfastly look only to the earth. They were fundamentally different from irredeemable martial artists who made a living through violence and murder. There was a time when an accidental killing occurred in the village over a dispute about watering the rice paddies.
When the neighbor who had suddenly become a murderer was dragged away by the officials, Sister Soso's hand, which covered my eyes, trembled terribly. Her body, holding me from behind, also shivered with fear. That was the kind of person Sister Soso was.
I couldn't believe that the woman who cut down a bandit and casually wiped the blood from her face was the same Sister Soso from back then. But wasn't it the same for me… The soft-hearted little boy who couldn't even kill a frog had somehow become a skilled killer.
I had changed so much, so why did I think she would remain the same as before? Was it because of my desperate wish to meet her again and return to how things used to be? To that time when my hands were not stained with blood.
My hometown, the Western Village, which I had painstakingly sought out, wanting to lay down my blood-soaked blade, had changed beyond recognition. Sister Soso, too, was no longer the person I once knew. The vague anxiety I felt when I first returned home had now revealed its definite form.
A cold, harsh reality that could no longer be ignored or denied. My home, the Western Village, is no longer anywhere. All that remains, including myself, are martial artists reeking of blood.
My vision blurred and my mind went blank. A terrible loneliness, like that of a naked child thrown into a desolate field, pierced me to the bone. Indecipherable echoes buzzed in my ears like tinnitus.
Something brushed past my eyes, casting a faint shadow. I shook my head violently to break free from my thoughts, and Tang Hye-seo, who had been waving her hand, stopped.
"Are you alright?"
Tang Hye-seo’s face, now in my line of sight, was filled with worry and bewilderment. It was the most surprised expression I had ever seen on her. Her reaction told me what state I was in.
A wave of dizziness hit me, and I unconsciously grabbed her hand in front of me. Tang Hye-seo flinched but did not pull away. Seeing something in my face, she squeezed my hand tightly.
Tang Hye-seo's hand, which had handled poison and hidden weapons since she was a child, was strangely warm. Beneath her winter-like features, our clasped hands felt as solid as ripening grains of barley. Only then did the shock and confusion slowly subside, and a stifled sigh escaped me.
It felt like I could breathe a little again.
"Are you alright?"
I wanted to say I was fine. But my throat was tight, and my mouth wouldn't open. It seemed I was not alright.
There was no way I could be. Still, I had recovered enough to hear the conversation happening in front of me.
"The Western Shadow Sword Sect? What business do you have there?"
The coachman, Jeon-sang, explained something and glanced back this way. The martial artists' eyes turned towards me. Sister Soso also looked me up and down, her eyes a mix of curiosity and caution.
I didn't know what to say. But I couldn't just stand there dazed. I took a deep breath, let go of Tang Hye-seo’s hand, and cupped my fists in a salute.
"I am Jeong Dae-cheon… from the Western Village in Zhongqing. I was told that my neighbors from the Western Village moved here to the Western Shadow Sword Sect in Shaanxi Province seven years ago, and I am on my way to find them."
"Jeong Dae-cheon?"
Among the perplexed martial artists, Sister Soso’s mouth fell open.
"Western Village? You came from the Western Village?"
Sister Soso took a step forward. For a moment, I flinched and stepped back before stopping myself. In my dreams and all the way here, I had been constantly worried.
What if Sister Soso was afraid of me because of the scent of blood and killing intent clinging to my body? The reality was the complete opposite. It was she who reeked of blood, and I who was stepping back.
It was bleak and terrifying. I would rather be covered in blood myself; I truly could not have imagined such an absurd reunion. Perhaps I should call it a blessing in disguise.
She was not scared even after seeing the long knife at my back.
"My goodness… is it really Dae-cheon?"
Recognizing me, she was astonished. Her eyes widened, and her left eyebrow rose slightly. It was a familiar reaction.
Her habit of constantly swallowing dryly and biting her lower lip was also exactly the same as before. A corner of my heart grew warm. It really is Sister Soso…
"Do you recognize me?"
"Sister Soso."
As if remembering the last moment we parted, Sister Soso's expression became one of bewilderment. Her chest seemed to swell with complex emotions, and her eyes gradually reddened. It looked as if we were about to embrace and burst into a sea of tears at any moment.
It seemed we would shout with joy and make a fuss. But the reality was still just awkward and bewildering. I don't know what to say.
What could possibly be said…
"It really is Dae-cheon…"
Sister Soso smiled brightly, as if she had witnessed an unbelievable miracle. It was a dazzling smile that resembled the July sunlight from my memories, warmly illuminating even the shadowed corners of my heart. Was it because her warmth was transmitted to me?
A similar smile spread across my face. Just then, a martial artist stepped forward and cupped his fists.
"I am Song Chu-gi, a disciple of the Western Shadow Sword Sect. May I ask where you esteemed heroes are from?"
I also brought my hands together to show respect.
"I am Jeong Dae-cheon, from the Western Village."
"I am Tang Hye-seo, from the Sichuan Tang Clan."
When Tang Hye-seo, who was beside me, revealed her identity, the eyes of the Western Shadow Sword Sect members widened.
"The Tang Clan? Do you mean the Tang Clan of the Five Great Families?"
"That's right. That Tang Clan."
Tang Hye-seo smiled with pride, revealing her self-esteem. The way the sword school members looked at me changed subtly. Perhaps because of the Plum Blossom Swordsman from the Mount Hua Sect we met on the way, Gwang-hyo remained silent without revealing his name.
After the disjointed introductions, Song Chu-gi asked.
"Are you heading to our school?"
"If you would not be inhospitable, we would like to stop by for a moment."
Song Chu-gi smiled good-naturedly.
"Inhospitable? The Sect Leader will surely welcome you if you are an acquaintance of his wife. It's about a two-day journey to the school."
His wife…
My cheek tingled as if I'd been struck hard by an invisible hand. As I blinked and looked at Sister Soso, Song Chu-gi gently urged us.
"If we are to reach the inn before it gets late, we must depart now."
Sister Soso stepped in and nodded her head.
"Let's do that. I will guide them."
"Then please depart first. We will clean up the fortress and follow right behind. We will see you at the inn this evening."
Song Chu-gi disappeared into the forest with two other martial artists.
"Let's go."
Gwang-hyo got into the carriage, and Jeon-sang climbed onto the driver's seat. We also took our seats in the back. Tang Hye-seo sat across from me, and Sister Soso sat beside me.
A fresh scent of blood wafted from her body. She had wiped the blood from her face, but what remained on her clothes was still there. It seemed she had killed several people in the mountain fortress.
The reunion with an old acquaintance who had become a skilled killer was extremely awkward. But Sister Soso was not like that. She looked at my unfamiliar appearance with curiosity and began to ask questions with an excited expression.
"You, how have you been living all this time? Did you become a martial artist?"
"Huh? Oh… What about you, sister?"
Sister Soso shrugged.
"Me? I was short on hands, so I helped with the sword school's work, and it ended up like this."
Short on hands… What kind of sect was this that would put a sword in the hands of a woman who wasn't even a formal disciple and use her as a swordsman? More than that, what I had just heard kept circling in my mind.
"Are you married?"
"Yes. Six years ago."
Whether a son or a daughter, it was common for people in ordinary households to marry before they turned twenty. There was nothing strange about Sister Soso being married. Who was her husband?
What kind of person was he? I was so curious my lips twitched, but I didn't want to know. The more I learned about her, the more I felt I was drifting away from old memories.
"By the way, do you happen to know what happened to that bastard who dragged you away back then?"
She still remembered the fake relative who had sold me to a gambling den and then continued to beat me while extorting money.
"He died."
That was my first kill. Who was Sister Soso's first kill? Seeing her calm demeanor, it couldn't have been that bandit from a moment ago.
I bit my lip hard and shook my head. I didn't want to know. I didn't want to ask, nor did I want to hear.
"Really? Good. That's very good."
She sounded as if she would have sought him out and ended his life herself if he were still alive. The carriage left the forest and entered the open main road. From the opposite side of the mountain we had emerged from, an old carriage appeared and followed behind us.
The martial artist sitting in the driver's seat waved his hand. It was one of the disciples from the Western Shadow Sword Sect I had seen earlier.
"Are you out on the righteous path in this cold weather?"
"That, and… the sword school's circumstances are difficult."
It meant they had come to raid the mountain fortress. No matter how easy a target the bandits were, what kind of sect leader sends just four people to attack a mountain fortress?
"The Sect Leader is busy. The Young Master is also preoccupied with his training."
They said he squandered the sect's fortune on women and wine, has he still not come to his senses? A subtle anger welled up inside me. Meeting Sister Soso was a happy occasion, but the more we talked, the more an irreversible sense of loss grew in my heart.
I wanted to talk about something even a little brighter.
"Are the old man and lady doing well?"
I was sure the two of them would welcome me with bright smiles, just like before. Sister Soso's cheerful face darkened in an instant.
"They passed away."
"When?"
"Three years ago, when the sword school's influence waned, there was… a lot of work."
Not wanting to talk about it, Sister Soso trailed off and turned her gaze out the window. My heart grew heavy, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. I remembered how the old man used to twist rice straw to make me toys.
Whenever we went into the mountains together to gather firewood, he would teach me which fruits were edible and which poisonous plants would cause great trouble if eaten. We once picked a bunch of sweet and sour mulberries, and after eating them together, we saw each other's blackened teeth and burst out laughing. They were simple and kind-hearted neighbors.
They were people who remembered the me of my childhood, who had tried to live with a gentleness that matched their own expressions and gestures. I had never doubted that I would see them again someday. They were neither martial artists nor villains.
Even in a world where the good cannot escape misfortune, I was certain they would be alive. But they were gone. I would never be able to see them again.
Forever...
A surge of longing welled up, and my eyes grew hot. My vision blurred. My chest ached as if it were being torn apart.
I couldn't bear it any longer. I covered my face with both hands and bent forward. As my elbows rested on my knees, a silent cry burst out.
It felt as though all the pillars supporting the despair deep in my heart had collapsed. I was crushed under the dark ruins and plunged into a bleak abyss. I had killed countless times while living as a martial artist, but never had someone's death felt so devastating and sorrowful.
A gentle hand patted my back. It must have been Sister Soso. It was an infinitely gentle touch, but thinking that it was a hand stained with blood, the sobs escaping between my palms felt terribly sorrowful.
* At dusk, we arrived at an inn in a small village. I was half-exhausted from how much I had cried. Gwang-hyo, who had been silent all the way from the mountain, came up beside me as I rested and thrust out his clenched left fist.
"That which you grasp in your hand and cannot let go is called worldly affliction."
When I turned my head to look at him, Gwang-hyo opened his hand, revealing an empty palm.
"This is called the void. It does not mean it is futile. The bonds between people flow without a moment's rest."
"Expectations and hopes are always bound to end in disillusionment. It was the same for me when I saw Master Jeok again."
"He was not the man I once knew. But that does not mean he is not the person I once knew."
"As time passes, you will gradually adapt to his changed appearance. Therefore, you too should open your clenched fist."
Gwang-hyo's advice contained a wisdom befitting a high monk. It was worth pondering, but it offered me no comfort at that moment. I wrapped things up and went to bed early.
I felt like I would have a nightmare, but I dreamed of nothing at all. When I awoke alone in the darkness at dawn, I realized. That I would no longer see my hometown in my dreams.
* After daybreak, we took the carriage again and headed west. We pressed on without rest and arrived at Red Wave Village in the late afternoon. The Western Shadow Sword Sect was quite large, more so than I had expected.
The claim that it had nearly a hundred disciples in its heyday didn't seem to be an exaggeration. Even so, it had now lost all its wealth and disciples and was on the verge of ruin.
The main gate, the very face of the sect, was broken in several places, and since there was no money to replace it, it had been patched up with wooden boards. Even those with no eye for worldly affairs could easily guess that the plaque hanging above it would not be there for much longer.
Song Chu-gi knocked on the gate, announcing his return. After a long while, the gate was unbolted from the inside and opened. As soon as a crack appeared, a small boy who looked to be about five years old came running out.
"Mom!"
The child threw himself into Sister Soso's arms. Tang Hye-seo waved a hand in front of my face.
"Are you alright? He's gone. Hey, open your eyes properly. Why are they so unfocused...?"