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South of Heavenly Sword Castle, the Sea Pine district.
More precisely, night over the street where Jin Cheon's inn stood.
The top floor of a five-story building with a clear view of the inn.
Shhk—click!
There were those who folded up spyglasses that let them see far-off things up close.
"I feel like our eyes just met."
Е n u m а̃
"Come now, even joking. There's no way he could sense us from this distance, no matter who he is."
The two watched Jin Cheon's warmly lit inn and gave a bitter smile.
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"It seems the Baleful Star really is keeping his word about living in a new era."
The Baleful Star Jin Cheon of the past would have made a sea of blood at least ten times over by now.
And yet, seeing him carry on so easily, cooking meals, felt strange.
"...The Baleful Star of a new era, is it?"
Е̊ n u̇ m̌ а
"Of course, he's still the Baleful Star regardless."
He was none other than that very Baleful Star.
The Imperial Palace could not simply leave him be.
Anyone could see it was surveillance, but officially it was called monitoring the situation, recording Jin Cheon's every move.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
Of course, if Jin Cheon truly meant to hide, there would be no way to find him. But since he himself had told them where he'd go and what he'd do, the Embroidered Guard took it as a mutual gesture to respect boundaries.
So they hastily promoted Yang Un-bi to Chiliarch and sent three other exceptionally talented men from the Imperial Capital along with him to Heavenly Sword Castle.
Ӗ.n̄u̇ mа̃ .іd̃
Son U-baek, the Eastern Garrison Warrior responsible for the east of the Central Plains with Heavenly Sword Castle at its center, had also come in person, given how serious the matter was.
"But no matter how the times have changed, is it really possible not to get blood on one's hands?"
Yang Un-bi asked Son U-baek, who was gazing up at the night sky.
Tak!
He set down the spyglass he'd been holding onto the table, looked at Yang Un-bi for a moment, then picked up his cup of liquor.
"You didn't take part in the Northern Campaign, did you?"
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
"...No."
Yang Un-bi bit his lip, resentment plain on his face.
They said the fiercest battlefield of the Gyeong Empire was the north, but someone had to guard the Imperial Palace and protect the Central Plains.
Yang Un-bi had been one of those people.
Throughout the entire Northern Campaign, he had stayed thoroughly within the Imperial Capital and the rest of the empire's interior, guarding it.
The problem was that after the campaign ended, a tendency arose to lump together everyone who hadn't fought and treat them all as cowards.
Еṅ ũ ma .і̂d
For Yang Un-bi, who had once been famed as the Number One Genius of Sacheon, this was all the more unjust and infuriating. No matter how much he'd wanted to go, they simply hadn't let him!
As everyone else had, Son U-baek seemed to have meant the remark that way too, and Yang Un-bi's eyes narrowed to slits.
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"I understand why you react that way, but what I'm about to say about the Baleful Star, you'd only understand if you'd fought there yourself."
Tak!
Son U-baek downed his drink in one gulp and knocked the empty cup against the table.
"I've read every report as well. About how Jin Cheon became the Baleful Star—"
Е̇n̈u̇mа̀
"No."
Whatever complaints he had, he could not lose the courtesy owed by a subordinate.
Even as his mouth said otherwise, Yang Un-bi politely refilled Son U-baek's empty cup.
Trickle—
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Son U-baek gestured with his chin at the clear liquor pouring down.
"What do you see here?"
Е̄n um̂ а .і̃d
"Liquor."
"I see the moon, the stars, and the night."
"..."
"But if it were liquor shared with the Baleful Star, anyone would say something different. They'd say they saw blood, iron, and death."
Yang Un-bi's brow furrowed faintly.
Why was it that every man who'd fought in the Northern Campaign, without exception, called him the Baleful Star?
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To find out, he'd searched through every record he could find, but it had only left him more puzzled.
Jin Cheon had simply fought, again and again, no different from any other officer. There was, surprisingly, nothing so remarkable about it.
Shhhh—
And why Son U-baek's hand trembled so, whenever he brought up the Baleful Star—that too was a mystery.
"Remember one thing."
He grasped the hand of Yang Un-bi, who was holding the liquor bottle.
Ӗñúmа̇. і̇ d
The cup overflowed, spilling across the table.
But Son U-baek paid it no mind and went on.
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"If the Baleful Star tells you to do something, you do it."
"..."
"You don't need to understand it. You just need to know that you must."
"Even if it goes against the Commander's own orders?"
Е̃ n̈u m а̂
Son U-baek nodded without a moment's hesitation.
"If this is a battlefield, then without question."
"Just what..."
Tuk!
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"But this isn't a battlefield, so Commander Baekli's word is probably right."
"..."
W̄ ė ḃ n̊ o̊ vёĺ E̊ ń um̃а
"Well, and there's a phrase that comes in handy for times like this."
Son U-baek let go of Yang Un-bi's hand and gave a short laugh.
"Field judgment."
Yang Un-bi, whose hand had been gripped pale white, blinked at the overflowing cup.
It felt like advice about what would happen if he overreached his place, and also like a warning.
Or maybe it meant he should just quietly take responsibility for whatever came of it himself.
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"Then what should we do about those men?"
"Who knows. They don't seem particularly hostile."
The two of them scanned the assassins hiding in the darkness around Jin Cheon's inn.
However well they thought they were concealed, they couldn't escape the eyes of the Embroidered Guard's finest.
"Just let it be—if the Baleful Star calls them out, they'll come. If not, leave them alone."
Shrug—
Wё b́ n̈o v е̄ l̀ Е n̄ ūm а́
Son U-baek answered indifferently.
From beginning to end, it always came back to the Baleful Star, Jin Cheon.
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Yang Un-bi wasn't at all pleased with his orders and his attitude, but he had no intention of refusing.
Not yet, anyway.
"..."
Still, the eyes he'd glimpsed through the spyglass—gentle eyes, so unlike the rumors about the Baleful Star—stayed branded deep in Yang Un-bi's mind.
Wе́bñ ôv̌ѐ l É n ù m̌ а
.
.
.
Ten days since Jin Cheon's inn had opened.
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The inn was absurdly quiet.
While Heuk Do-chi and Eyeballs cleaned diligently and Hwa-ryeong went out to buy ingredients, the number of people who actually came in was, at most, two or three.
Ё ǹ ûm̄ a
To be precise: Gu Yeong, Gu Yeong's disciple Myeonghwa, and a woman who'd asked if they could make something extremely spicy, then walked out when Eyeballs said she wasn't sure—three people in all.
It might as well have been no one.
"..."
"..."
Heuk Do-chi and Eyeballs sat awkwardly at a table.
Pretending to work only lasted a day or two.
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With flies buzzing around the empty inn for ten straight days, they'd taken to watching Jin Cheon's expression nervously.
Heuk Do-chi in particular, given his past with the Black Spirit Faction, felt it must all be his fault.
So every time dust settled on a table he'd already wiped, he gripped his rag all the more fiercely.
It's not like I'm doing anything wrong.
Jin Cheon wasn't foolish enough to miss what was going on.
Contrary to what the two of them assumed, Jin Cheon genuinely didn't see it as a problem.
Е́num̈à
Ever since coming back to his hometown, what he'd wanted was exactly this kind of quiet, unhurried inn.
I've got nothing but time and money to spare anyway.
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He'd wanted this leisure precisely to enjoy it, so as far as Jin Cheon was concerned, he was perfectly satisfied.
And he had confidence, too.
Back when he cooked for them, the Northern Army had never had enough of his food.
If it ever came down to a contest of taste, things would work out eventually.
Ӗ n̆ů m â
If anything, he worried more about too many customers coming.
Just then.
Jingle—
The inn's door opened, and a clear bell rang out.
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"Hello, Master."
"The usual thin noodles?"
Wė b̈n o vѐl Ěn ü m̀ а̇
"...Yes."
It was Myeonghwa, Gu Yeong's one and only disciple, a girl with hollow cheeks.
Her frame was so thin it was worrying whether anything but bone remained.
Her baggy physician's robes hid it somewhat, but even to Jin Cheon's sense for such things, she looked quite dangerously frail.
But when both Gu Yeong and Myeonghwa herself were physicians, who was he to say anything?
Drrk—
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She sat at the table where Heuk Do-chi and Eyeballs already were.
"Let's talk a little today, again."
There was no particular change in her expression.
A physician ought to be good with people, and yet Myeonghwa, by her own admission, found people difficult—still, every time she came, she'd hold the two of them there and talk.
But knowing that was simply how Myeonghwa was, Eyeballs smiled brightly, and Heuk Do-chi nodded solemnly.
...Feels less like she's coming to eat and more like she's coming to chat, though.
Ё ň u̇m̃ а̇
The combination of stiff-faced Myeonghwa, patiently listening Heuk Do-chi, and chattering Eyeballs made for quite a sight.
Jin Cheon watched them, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.
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Good thing I got the broth started in advance.
Whoosh—!
Jin Cheon tied on his apron and stepped into the kitchen.
Myeonghwa often had trouble eating foods that needed to be chewed and swallowed.
W е̂ b nо̄v́ él É n̈ ŭ m̂ а
So on ordinary days, she survived mostly on meat broth alone.
If Gu Yeong hadn't stayed by her side helping her, she might well have already starved to death.
Something to do with her heart, they say...
A sick body could at least be healed, but if the trouble was something in her heart, there was nothing Jin Cheon himself could do about it.
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All he could do was feed her something delicious.
He began preparing his special thin noodles just for Myeonghwa.
Е̂ n̈ üm̆ а
Swish—swish—
He stirred the noodle broth he'd already simmered a little beforehand, with a ladle.
Made from chicken bones, it came out clear, and rather than clinging thickly to the tongue, it had a light touch that simply skimmed past.
And beside it sat seafood stock, already prepared.
For the shellfish, he just bought whatever was cheap at the market that day and boiled up about a pot's worth.
She won't eat porridge no matter how much they call it porridge, so I'll have to fill her up this way instead.
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Jin Cheon combined the chicken bone stock with the shellfish stock.
Their character was similar enough that they blended together well, the flavors melding smoothly.
Then he took out the noodles.
Most countryside inns made their own noodles, but in a place as bustling as Heavenly Sword Castle, it was better to buy from a good noodle shop.
He boiled the noodles he'd bought at the market in clean water and set them on the cutting board.
Ta-ta-ta-ta-tak—
Е.ńúm̃ а. і̀ d
Jin Cheon's Chinese cleaver moved swiftly.
He cut the thin, dried noodles into pieces smaller than a fingernail.
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Since she couldn't eat rice because it was rice, and couldn't eat noodles because they were noodles, Jin Cheon had come up with the idea of cutting the thin noodles so small she could simply sip them right down.
—Really, thank you so much!
—Thanks to you, Myeonghwa's gotten some of her strength back.
Watching Myeonghwa grow thinner by the day had weighed heavily on Gu Yeong.
En ũ m̈ ӑ. i ď
But ever since she'd started eating the Slurpable Noodles Jin Cheon had whipped up, Myeonghwa's health had been steadily improving.
He didn't know how to solve the trouble in her heart, but he could at least serve her a good meal, and at that thought Jin Cheon grinned.
Tuk—
Into a roughly carved wooden bowl he put the finely cut noodles first, then vegetables cut just as small so she could swallow them too.
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After that, he poured in the broth—light, yet deep in flavor.
To Jin Cheon's own eyes it looked a bit unimpressive, but since Myeonghwa ate it well regardless, he carried the special thin noodles out on a tray.
Е̌ ǹu m̃ а
"Sis, we've got a real problem."
Freshly scrubbed and looking like a dumpling, Eyeballs puffed out her cheeks and laid her head on the table.
Myeonghwa stroked Eyeballs' head with her thin hand.
At first her hand had moved on its own, drawn in by how perfectly round it looked, and she'd paused, startled by herself. But once Eyeballs showed how much she liked it, Myeonghwa now stroked her head whenever she had the chance.
"Business here is way too slow."
"Isn't it better for your body if there aren't many customers?"
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"There's a limit to how few is good. Aside from you and Grandpa Gu Yeong, the only people who come are the occasional ones who ask if we can make something super spicy."
"I suppose so."
Myeonghwa looked at Heuk Do-chi.
Her eyes asked whether he agreed with Eyeballs, and he nodded.
"I do wonder why so few people come. I keep wondering if it's because of my own infamy..."
"That's not it. Black Serpent Blade's infamy is significant, yes, but if anything, an inn built where Black Serpent Blade and the Black Spirit Faction once were is a subject of curiosity."
Е̂ ñ um̃а.і̊d
"Then why don't the customers come?"
"..."
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"Sis, you know something!"
Heuk Do-chi and Eyeballs asked at the same time.
Myeonghwa rolled her hollow eyes in a slow circle.
Gu Yeong had always taught her that if she was going to misspeak, better to just be careful, so she wondered whether what she was about to say might be rude.
Еn u̇ m̆a . і̀ d̂
Tuk—
Before her, Jin Cheon set down the special thin noodles.
"Is there some reason? I'm confident in the taste, at least."
At that, Heuk Do-chi and Eyeballs both nodded at once.
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The two of them had eaten Jin Cheon's cooking for days now, but they'd never had anything this clean and delicious.
On taste, they trusted Jin Cheon completely.
Е n_u m a
But no matter how delicious it was, what good did it do?
People had to actually come eat it to know.
"...It really is delicious. Everywhere else I can't even manage the broth, but Master's thin noodles are the only thing that suits my taste."
Slurp—
Myeonghwa lifted the bowl of special thin noodles and drank from it.
The finely cut noodles, together with the chicken bone and seafood broth, slipped down into Myeonghwa's throat.
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She refused food, and yet Jin Cheon's cooking was strange.
It felt like something clawing its way toward life however it could.
Like the soldiers on the northern battlefield who died the moment their fever left them.
"If I'm honest, this place is fine except for the taste—everything else is a problem."
Jin Cheon and the other two tilted their heads.
Myeonghwa looked over the faces of the three of them.
Ė ñ u̇ mа̊ .і̄d́
Jin Cheon, of whom Gu Yeong said he seemed like a man who'd returned from a battlefield.
Heuk Do-chi, a former Renegade Sect boss.
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Eyeballs, a former beggar.
"Hmm—"
Myeonghwa's lips moved slightly.
The lingering scent of the broth in her mouth tickled at something inside her.
Е n ŭm а
But she remembered her master Gu Yeong's constant advice not to speak too sharply, to be careful.
Just then.
"Sis!"
Eyeballs grabbed Myeonghwa's bone-thin hand.
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Her eyes shone, desperate to somehow keep living at this inn.
"We have to run this inn forever and ever!"
W ё b n̊ о vе̇ l Е̃ň ü m̂ а̄
"..."
"If it goes under, I'll be a beggar again."
Swish—
Without realizing it, Myeonghwa used her other hand to stroke Eyeballs' head as well. Then she turned to Jin Cheon, who sat there calmly, and spoke.
"Master, there's something I'd like to ask first."
"Ask away."
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Jin Cheon himself was curious why things were going so poorly.
He found himself thinking that Commander Baekli hadn't asked whether he could hold out without good reason.
"Do you actually intend to run this as a business?"
He hadn't expected that question.
"No matter how I look at it, you seem to be running it however it comes, without much thought."
"I do put effort into it, in my own way."
Е̂ ń ǔ m ā
"Yes, the food is good, but everything else is a problem. Take this child, for instance."
Point—
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Eyeballs, who'd been enjoying herself, was startled when Myeonghwa pointed at her.
Wondering for a moment if she herself was the problem.
Myeonghwa reassured Eyeballs and spoke.
"She's not a beggar anymore—how long do you plan to keep calling her 'Eyeballs'?"
Е.n̆ ům̊а̌
"...!"
"Has none of you found that strange?"
Jin Cheon and Heuk Do-chi blinked and looked at each other.
For a Renegade Sect member, that was naturally how things went.
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And where Jin Cheon came from, in the north, a man you saw today might be dead tomorrow.
Rather than remembering names to call people by, it was standard to name people by some trait and use that instead.
Е n u m̆ а.іd̆
Having lived lives like that, the thought that this might be a problem had simply never occurred to either of them.
Myeonghwa let out a long sigh.
"I get told I lack emotional sense all the time, but Master, you're an even bigger case."
She wondered how a sweet child like Eyeballs had ended up among people like these.
"A name...?"
Of course, Eyeballs herself had never once thought about it either, and simply blinked.
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