Book 1 Chapter 23

45 days before the miraculous return of the Vermilion Bird disciples,

or rather, the afternoon of the day after the Vermilion Bird disciples left Amisan.

From a small thatched hut halfway up a towering peak of Amisan, a single strand of

white smoke danced and swirled, being pulled up into the sky.

It was the first smoke from the hut in a long time. Like the wispy white smoke from an old man lying on the breezy veranda, smoking a pipe, the smoke rose hazily into the sky. At the trailing edge of that smoke, a young man was humming a tune as he cooked. It was the first time he’d cooked in a long time. For about five months, others had cooked, prepared side dishes, and set the table, but now that they were gone, he had to cook himself.

A delicious aroma wafted and tickled his nose. For the time being, he had plenty of meat that his disciples, who were now gone, had hunted while running through the mountains as part of their training, and he also had a pile of wild vegetables they had dug up, so he wasn't in dire straits. Ten days before he sent his disciples away, he had made them work three times their usual quota, and now he was reaping the rewards. Today, for some reason, the young man was humming as he set the table, and behind him, a voice, elderly but strong, was heard.

“Ryuyeon!”

Bilyuyeon, turning around, simply stared blankly at his master's face. Tilting his head slightly to the side, in a slouched posture, his gaze swept over the old man's entire body as if to pierce him. Seeing his disciple standing askew and staring silently at his master’s face, the master felt both insolence and frustration.

“What are you staring at so intently? It’s embarrassing… you’ll bore holes in my face.”

He meant for him to stop looking. But then…

“Did you take a bath?”

A bath? It seemed to refer to the act of washing and cleaning oneself. The nonsensical question suddenly came out of Bilyuyeon’s mouth. Judging by his tone, it wasn’t asked because he smelled something. It was for confirmation.

“Ah, you knew? Yes, I scrubbed myself yesterday. What do you think? Doesn’t Baek-a look even whiter and fluffier today? I washed my beard by the stream last night and scrubbed off some dead skin.”

The master spoke proudly about something trivial. Here, the Baek-a the master spoke of was the name of the master’s beard. He was constantly aiming to be the second great beard connoisseur, revering Guan Yu, the Duke of Beautiful Beards from Romance of the Three Kingdoms.

So the master paid special attention to his beard. His white hair, reaching his waist, his pure white eyebrows, and his beautiful, clean beard, which reached down below his dantian, were his pride. Because of this, he would fuss over his beard like a father raising a child whenever there was a major event or occasion. To make matters worse, the person who had gone to the absurd extent of even naming his beard was this very master. The beard’s name was Baek-a! To give a name to a part of one’s own body, it was truly ridiculous.

“Why did you make such a fuss? You’re so old, it’s embarrassing.”

“I made a rare appearance, didn’t I? I have to look good too. A good impression and a clean, handsome appearance are directly linked to popularity. I put in some effort as part of managing my popularity.”

“Huh?”

“Ah, never mind. Just let it go.”

The master, perhaps feeling something awkward, mumbled and changed the subject. In fact, this change of subject was not welcome to Bilyuyeon.

“By the way, what’s going on? You haven’t been seen much lately, always wandering around, but today you’re cooking. The sun will set in the east today. Have you finished your dalliance?”

Bilyuyeon felt a little guilty.

“Ah, it’s nothing. I just had some free time after a long while. What dalliance are you talking about… I’m not some runaway wife…”

The master’s gaze, as if he were looking at a suspicious person, made Bilyuyeon uncomfortable. Bilyuyeon, who had recently started paying attention to his skincare, felt it was a fatal blow.

“You’ve been neglecting your duties for about five months, haven’t you? Not doing your job properly. Did something happen during that time? Did you get something?”

The master, in his old-fashioned way, raised his pinky finger and wiggled it in front of Bilyuyeon’s eyes. However, Bilyuyeon vehemently shook his head and denied it, and the master seemed to be harboring some absurd suspicion. But Bilyuyeon didn’t want to suffer any losses by being caught up in baseless suspicion.

“No, it’s not about a woman. Please don’t misunderstand.”

“If it’s not a woman, then what is it? You don’t come home at night, you’re frequently out overnight, and while you did provide three meals a day, they weren’t cooked here, were they? You brought them from somewhere. Besides, the taste of the food wasn’t yours. Well, I can forgive you for buying me drinks frequently, but those dishes were definitely a woman’s touch. So, confess honestly.”

Cold sweat beaded on Bilyuyeon’s forehead. He had been constantly buying drinks to appease his frequent overnight stays, outings, and excursions, but it seemed their effectiveness had run out.

“I’m really not! What woman, you’re so meddlesome…”

As Bilyuyeon was trying to cut off his words, pretending to be angry and trying to gloss over the situation, the master interrupted him.

“Oh, what’s that?”

“Yes, what?”

“That thing bulging out on your left side.”

Startled, Bilyuyeon’s nerves instantly stretched taut, so taut they could be plucked like a zither.

“No, what is it? It’s nothing.”

“What do you mean, nothing? My eyes don’t deceive me. You can deceive ghosts, but you can’t deceive me. Speak truthfully while it’s still good advice.”

“Why are you so suspicious? If it’s not for your beloved disciple, then it’s not. It’s just stuffing sticking out. Just stuffing…”

However, the clothes Bilyuyeon was wearing were made of plain cotton, so there was no stuffing. But as Bilyuyeon babbled and turned away hastily, something popped out from his embrace. Betrayal. The goddess of fortune had betrayed him.

“Thud.”

A heavy sound, a beautiful silk, people call this a silk pouch. It was a rather expensive-looking pouch with vibrant red colors and intricate embroidery. Given Bilyuyeon’s current financial situation, it was clearly a luxury item. Therefore, the master couldn’t help but be suspicious of its origin and contents.

A flash of light appeared in the master’s eyes. The intensity of that flashing light indicated that the master had detected what kind of sound it was. This sound was the sound of money…

‘He’s so old yet his ears are so sharp…’

Muttering to himself, he began to look for a way to smooth things over.

“What’s this?”

An overbearing voice, a voice full of the will to use force if he didn’t get an answer. Bilyuyeon was in a difficult situation. He was still far from being able to withstand the master’s forceful methods. At this point, having not completed the final stages of the Lightning Saber technique, he had no means to endure the master’s forceful actions.

“This is really nothing. It’s just a simple token of appreciation. A small gesture of goodwill from the other party.”

“It looks quite heavy for a token of goodwill.”

The master still sent a piercingly suspicious gaze. Bilyuyeon’s skin prickled. Bilyuyeon was inwardly flustered. He had to somehow smooth over this situation. For a brighter future!

“Ah, well, you see. There were some kids who wanted to become stronger. They kept begging me to make them stronger. I don’t know how they knew I was your disciple, but they knew I was pretty strong. They cried and pleaded, and I couldn’t refuse. I have a rather soft heart, you see. So, I made them stronger. Wouldn’t it be fitting for your disciple to be able to do something like that? But as you know, hardship is the best way to become stronger, right?”

“And then?”

“Ah, so I asked someone I knew to do me a favor. To make them stronger. And they were so grateful that they gave me money like this.”

“Huh? If anyone’s giving money or tokens of appreciation, it should be you giving it to them, not the other way around. You’re the one who asked for the favor, so you should be the one showing appreciation, right?”

“Well? How would I know such deep things? They just said they were very grateful that I asked, and that I deserved blessings for doing such a wonderful deed. They insisted I take this small token of appreciation. They called it a ‘fee for information,’ or something. They slipped it to me, saying they would actively participate in bringing them hardship. They were truly warm-hearted people. Ah, so I kept refusing, saying I couldn’t possibly accept money from people who would make my acquaintances stronger, but they kept trying to give it to me. So, unable to refuse any longer, thinking it might be rude to keep refusing, I accepted it. I thought I could use it to repay my neglect of you, master, and perhaps buy a bottle of Okruju, which you like.”

“Okruju!”

Although there were some lingering doubts, the mention of a bottle of Okruju made his mouth water. Bilyuyeon’s strategy seemed to have succeeded.

“Yes, Okruju. And it’s a genuine 20-year-old one. It’s quite expensive, you know. I haven’t been able to be filial to you, master, so I wanted to do at least a little bit today. I’ll buy it on my way back this evening. I’ve already placed an order at Hongaru.”

“T-twenty years (二十年)!”

His eyes widened at the number 20, and the master swallowed hard. Okruju was the master’s favorite liquor, but it was expensive, so he couldn’t drink it often. That was Okruju aged less than three years. A 20-year-old vintage, had he ever had the chance to taste it? Twenty-year-old Okruju, the finest wine of Sachuan, Hongaru’s secret wine, Okru, was a top-quality liquor known throughout the Amisan region, or rather, the entire Sachuan region.

The aging secret was a top secret of Hongaru, never to be revealed. Its taste was so exceptional that it was said that even Amisan’s precepts lost their efficacy before Okruju. This was because, in the past, many Amisan disciples had been caught and punished by the Precepts Enforcement Hall for drinking Okruju from Hongaru. Although Amisan was a sect centered around women, male disciples were not entirely absent. As Amisan's influence grew, they began to accept male disciples, who, though lower in status than female disciples, possessed undeniable martial arts skills in the martial world.

It was a well-known fact that such individuals, tempted by the taste and aroma of Okruju, would break the prohibition on alcohol, descend the mountain, and secretly drink it, only to be dragged to the Precepts Enforcement Hall. And if it was Okruju, let alone that, a 20-year-old vintage was the highest quality among the highest quality. For the master, who loved liquor more than food, it was a perfect fit.

The master’s mouth stretched wide, and he nodded with a satisfied smile. Seeing this, Bilyuyeon, thinking the danger had passed, wiped the sweat from his brow. It seemed the matter had been properly smoothed over. Although Okruju was an expensive liquor, considering the events of yesterday and the cost of smoothing things over, it felt like a bargain. Ah, in fact, 20-year-old Okru was the absolute best among the high-quality ones, and as its name, the finest wine of Sachuan, suggested, its price was no joke. In terms of price, 20-year-old Okruju was worth about three or four gold leaves.

It was a liquor that ordinary people would be lucky to taste once in their lifetime. Nevertheless, Bilyuyeon considered it a small sacrifice because he had no intention of buying Okruju from Hongaru. Nor was he bluffing his master. He fully intended to bring the Okruju and offer it to his master. He already had a bottle of 20-year-old Okru, which he had obtained through "kind words" when he met the acquaintances mentioned earlier yesterday. By "kind words," he meant exchanging opinions through affectionate conversation.

“Ah, please come up, Master.”

After setting the lunch table, Bilyuyeon quickly urged his master. At times like this, it was best to act swiftly to prevent the other party from having second thoughts.

“Yes, yes.”

The master nodded, and it seemed to be going well, but suddenly his eyes lit up. He had discovered something.

“Oh, Ryuyeon. But there’s something red on your sleeve?”

On Bilyuyeon’s sleeves, which were holding the ends of the sumptuously prepared table, was a red stain, just as the master said. The master, having discovered it, asked Bilyuyeon.

“Ah, this. It just got on me during an affectionate exchange of opinions with some people I don’t know well. It’s nothing.”

“Really? To me, it looks like something splattered from crushing someone’s face.”

“How could that possibly be?”

Bilyuyeon gave a disarmingly innocent smile.

“Hmm, is that so?”

Bilyuyeon was somewhat displeased that the master still harbored a suspicious gaze even in the face of his bright smile.

‘He’s so suspicious for an old man…’

Bilyuyeon inwardly cursed his master but couldn’t show it.

“Be gentle when you fight. Your blows leave bruises for two to three months, you know.”

The word "gentle" coming from the master’s mouth felt like the end of the world. In the master’s dictionary, where was the word 'gentle,' or 'moderate'? His dictionary had no word for 'degree,' as someone who had spent nearly ten years with him knew well. He thought the master’s current words were not his true feelings. It was probably to maintain appearances in front of his disciple. Despite these facts, Bilyuyeon answered respectfully.

“Yes, Master.”

“Yes, yes. But where’s the braised potatoes?”

“Yes, of course, I prepared them, Master.”

“Good, then let’s eat.”

With a beaming, energetic(?) face, the master said. The two climbed onto the veranda, sat down with the table, and began to eat lunch, enjoying the cool autumn breeze blowing from the mountains. Autumn was drawing to a close. This was a story that took place on the afternoon of the day after the Vermilion Bird disciples left Amisan, in a thatched hut located halfway up a towering peak of Amisan.