Chapter 175
After my private breakfast with the sect leader, the oppressive stares that had followed me around before disappeared.
No one came anywhere near the guest quarters anymore, as though they had never shown any interest in me to begin with. I couldn’t be certain, but it seemed Daoist Taeneung had said something to them.
Maybe their curiosity about a strange visitor had simply worn off. Either way, I welcomed it. Being the center of everyone’s attention had been exhausting.
Madam Ma, however, showed no signs of losing interest in me. If anything, she seemed delighted to have someone new to fuss over.
“My lady! Why do you keep walking around with your hair hanging loose like that?”
“Yes, Madam. I’ll tie it up in a moment.”
“Come here. Let this old woman make you presentable. A young lady from a good family can’t go around looking like this.”
Whenever she had the chance, Madam Ma would follow me around nagging, and she was constantly bringing me food and trying to make me eat.
“Those Immortals can do as they please, but you need proper meals. People and animals alike need plenty to eat while they’re growing.”
“I’m seventeen...”
“At seventeen, you could still grow another foot if you start eating properly now! No complaining. Eat.”
Apparently worried about the monastery’s meals, which contained neither meat nor the five pungent vegetables, Madam Ma prepared rich food for me separately every day.
I had grown tired of bland meals myself, so I accepted her kindness without protest.
The little pot floating with oil was packed with chunks of meat that had been simmered until tender.
I sat quietly waiting for Madam Ma to fill my bowl when I sensed someone lurking around outside the wall.
From the hesitant shuffling and all the sniffing, whoever it was had probably been drawn here by the smell of meat.
I don’t even have to look to know who that is.
Madam Ma seemed to have figured it out too.
“Bring him in. That little Immortal goes mad for meat.”
“Yes, Madam.”
Suppressing a laugh, I stepped into the courtyard, cracked open the gate, and called out.
“Daoist Songmyeong. Would you like to come in?”
“W-what? N-no, Miss Tang. I was merely passing by...”
Songmyeong answered in a tiny voice and avoided my eyes. His toes squirmed against the ground, and his lips were practically shining with saliva.
Trying not to laugh, I beckoned him over.
“Come eat with us. There’s too much for me to finish by myself.”
At the gentle invitation, Songmyeong looked deeply conflicted.
It was the face of a boy caught between reason and appetite.
“Elder Jinseong isn’t here, is he?”
“Daoist Jinseong hasn’t come by. Will you get in trouble if he catches you eating meat?”
“No, but... Elder Jinseong and my brothers don’t eat it, so I’d feel embarrassed eating it alone...”
“I’ll keep it secret. Just eat quickly and leave before anyone notices. You should eat plenty of meat, Daoist Songmyeong. You need it to build muscle.”
After another round of encouragement, Songmyeong looked around to make sure no one was watching, then brightened and hurried into the guest quarters.
“Sit here.”
“Th-thank you, Miss Tang...”
Apparently still uncomfortable around me, he dragged his chair far back and sat as far away from me as possible.
Yet his eyes never left the pot of meat.
He really must have been craving it.
For a growing boy who looked ready to chew rocks if necessary, properly cooked meat was apparently an irresistible temptation.
Madam Ma burst out laughing at the sight.
“Well, well. Didn’t our little Immortal say he was all grown up now and didn’t need meat anymore?”
“I-I’m Songmyeong, Madam Ma! I’m not little.”
“Everyone looks like a baby to an old woman. Little Immortals need to eat properly. That’s how you build strong bones and muscles.”
Completely unbothered by his protest, Madam Ma piled meat into a bowl and set it in front of him.
Songmyeong drew a deep breath, solemnly placed one piece in his mouth—
and promptly lost all restraint.
He began stripping the meat from the bones at astonishing speed.
His cheeks puffed out as he chewed, his face radiant with happiness.
“Slow down. You’re going to give yourself indigestion.”
Holding back my laughter, I kept adding more meat to his bowl.
“My brothers...”
“I told you, I’ll keep it secret. Come back whenever you’re craving something. I won’t poison it.”
Songmyeong sprayed out the meat he had been chewing {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} and stared at me with tears in his eyes.
“P-p-p-poison?”
“I said I won’t.”
“Hic... I-I’m sorry...”
“Daoist Songmyeong. I don’t know what exactly you’re imagining, but that’s not how it is. I don’t poison people just because they annoy me.”
This kid’s even more terrified of me after seeing Songhwa get hurt. What exactly are people saying about me behind my back?
Clicking my tongue, I shook my head, took out a candied fruit, and offered it to him.
Songmyeong didn’t reach for it.
Instead, he eyed me suspiciously.
His expression plainly asked whether the candy had been poisoned.
I shrugged, snapped it cleanly in half, and popped one piece into my mouth.
As the sweet fragrance spread, I heard Songmyeong swallow.
“Convinced?”
I waved the remaining half before placing it in his hand.
Songmyeong nodded and cautiously brought it to his lips.
He took the tiniest bite from one corner and savored the sweetness.
Slowly, the corners of his mouth began creeping upward.
Madam Ma watched us with satisfaction, then reached over and tugged affectionately at Songmyeong’s plump cheek.
“Our little Immortal is so adorable when he eats properly. Have plenty. Reducing impure energy and keeping the body pure is all well and good, but you’re still young. Growing comes first. You need to shoot up quickly if you want your brothers to take you along when they travel the martial world. Shall I make you some pancakes?”
“I’m all right, Madam Ma.”
“I’ll stuff them full of meat.”
“...Th-then just one.”
Madam Ma burst out laughing at his shy request and slapped him heartily on the back.
She produced ingredients from somewhere, brought a small brazier into the courtyard, set an overturned pot lid over it, and began cooking thin wheat pancakes.
She laid lightly grilled scallions over each warm pancake, added seasoned stir-fried meat, then rolled it all up.
They were delicious.
Songmyeong and I sat side by side, chewing on the piping-hot rolls.
“If only everyone would eat like this...”
Madam Ma murmured as she watched us.
There was something painfully tender in her eyes.
It was the gaze of someone tracing the remnants of another person, reliving some distant moment from the past.
She has endured much pain.
Daoist Taeneung’s words came back to me.
I knew that look all too well, and it left a heavy feeling in my chest.
Pretending not to notice, I stuffed another bite into my mouth.
*****
The days that followed settled into much the same routine.
I sparred with the third-generation disciples, fought Jinseong, did some training on my own, and before I knew it, another day would be over.
Thanks to all the snacks Madam Ma kept feeding me, I even grew a little closer to Songmyeong.
Our youngest disciple apparently took quite a liking to meat. Once every three or four days, he would stop by the guest quarters and eat what was supposedly a “snack” but was really an entire meal.
There was still no news from Yeon Ryang.
I worried that his condition might have worsened, but I kept telling myself that no news was good news and tried not to dwell on it.
At first, I couldn’t last even fifty exchanges against Jinseong.
Then it became more than a hundred.
Then two hundred.
By the time I could push past three hundred exchanges, winter had finally loosened its grip on Mount Wudang and flowers had begun to bloom.
When I sent word that I would be staying at Wudang for a while, Uncle Geunmyeong sent mountains of gifts in the Tang Clan’s name, along with the new concealed weapons I had requested.
Among the things the Tang family sent was a letter from Tang Seho.
You’re alive, right? Aren’t you coming home? And why do you write to Sister Chohee but never to me? Should I come to Mount Wudang?
He hasn’t changed at all.
He knew perfectly well what my situation was, so what did he mean, come home?
I could practically hear him whining in my ear, and I let out a dry laugh.
I tossed Tang Seho’s letter aside and was wondering what I should write back to Uncle Geunmyeong when Jinseong’s voice came from outside.
“Miss Tang. Are you there?”
“Yes. Come in.”
At my answer, Jinseong carefully opened the door and held up a bundle of letters.
“Some letters arrived for you.”
“Thank you for bringing them. But that hawk...”
My voice trailed off as I stared at the hawk perched on Jinseong’s shoulder.
The bird suddenly launched itself into the air and came straight at me.
“Whoa! What the—”
“Squawk!”
I smacked it away on reflex.
The hawk tumbled limply across the floor.
“...”
“...”
I panicked and just... reacted.
It’s not dead, is it?
Jinseong calmly crouched down and checked the bird before reassuring me.
“It is only unconscious. It should wake shortly. It seems its master ordered it to return with a reply.”
I nodded, accepted the letter Jinseong handed me, and unfolded it.
The familiar handwriting immediately made me smile.
It was from Gyeonga.
My lady, have you been well?
It’s Gyeonga.
Young Master Lee said he could send my letter along with his, so I’m writing to ask how you are.
There are so many things I want to know. Are you ill anywhere? Have you been hurt? Please don’t worry about us. Sister Songji and I are both doing well.
Ten days ago, I came to the Bamboo Sea with Young Master Lee.
The Bamboo Sea is such a peaceful place. If you stand still, the sound of bamboo leaves rustling tickles your ears...
The painstakingly written letter was filled with news about Gyeonga and Tang Un.
Tang Un’s health had apparently recovered enough that he could now leave the Tang Clan without issue.
I was happily reading on when an odd word made me rub my eyes.
What? Is something wrong with my vision?
I frowned and stared harder at the letter.
The words did not change.
Noticing my strange behavior, Jinseong calmly asked,
“What is it, Miss Tang?”
“Daoist Jinseong, could you read this for me? Maybe I’m tired, because I think I’m seeing things.”
“Of course.”
He took the letter and began reading the next passage aloud.
“‘Madam recommended that he recuperate somewhere quiet.’ That is what it says.”
“Right? I didn’t misread it?”
“No. Is there a problem?”
Jinseong looked puzzled.
I rubbed my forehead with a grave expression.
“There is.”
A very serious problem.
My second brother isn’t married.
So why was Gyeonga calling the Ghost-Hand Divine Physician Madam?