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    Chapter 83 Aung (3)

    Of course.

    A disciple of the Great Mount Hua Sect’s elder was an elite, thoroughly educated from a young age. With all the responsibilities of sect affairs, where would they have found time to cook?

    “What were you trying to make?”

    “I was thinking of making some dumplings…”

    “Goodness, step aside.”

    With no other choice, Seong Muyeon rolled up his sleeves and stepped forward. He carefully selected the ingredients that had somehow survived the chaos of war and discarded the rest. 

    Then he prepared the filling and began kneading the dough with the remaining flour, which, though only half the original amount, was still enough given the large quantity from the start.

    “Young master, you know how to cook?”

    By then, Ma Jincheon had returned after washing up and asked with eyes wide like a startled rabbit. Being a noble son of the Demonic Sect, Seong Muyeon, no less than Ma Jincheon, must have grown up without ever having to get his hands dirty. It was unclear where he had learned to cook.

    “I just picked up bits and pieces here and there. Disciples, come help shape the dumplings.”

    “Ah, yes.”

    Ma Jincheon and Kang Ung began shaping the dumplings as Seong Muyeon instructed.

    Ma Jincheon kept glancing at him as if he found him fascinating. Seong Muyeon, fully aware of the gaze, didn’t show it outwardly but smiled to himself inwardly.

    In his previous life, he had grown up in a household where, during every holiday, everyone would gather around and make dumplings together and share them. So this was hardly a difficult task for him.

    “You always surprise me, young master.”

    “Can I compare to Baek Dojang? You’ve no idea how surprised I was. Why is he so extreme?”

    When Seong Muyeon grumbled, Ma Jincheon gave a bitter smile.

    “He’s been like that since he was a child—ever since he lost his parents that way… No one could stop him.”

     Thinking his words were inappropriate in front of Seong Muyeon, Ma Jincheon cleared his throat and changed the subject.

    Baek Ryeoil’s parents had lost their lives at the hands of the Demonic Sect. Although he was now sitting across from Seong Muyeon and conversing, it wasn’t a topic to be brought up openly. Seong Muyeon, also aware of the sensitivity, naturally shifted the topic as if nothing had happened.

    “Still, doesn’t he listen to you, Master Ma? From what I saw before, he seemed to care quite a bit.”

    “Of course. I raised him on my back… But that’s as far as it goes. When he truly gets angry, no one can stop him. You must’ve gotten a sense of that today.”

    Indeed.

    Baek Ryeoil, to the point that it sent a chill down Seong Muyeon’s spine, would hold his head high and speak bluntly even to his superiors. Craftily, he would push his will while cleverly toeing the line, which meant the harshest punishments Mount Hua could dole out were mere seclusion or chores. They couldn’t exactly expel him from the sect or sever his meridians.

    “Other kids, once scolded, would try not to repeat their mistakes. But Baek Ryeoil—he’d go out of his way to cause a bigger incident. We thought he’d mature with age, but now he’s nearly thirty², and everyone’s just given up.”

    There’s a saying: You give more rice cakes to the brat you hate.

    The disciples of Mount Hua had already come to a tacit agreement to avoid provoking Baek Ryeoil as much as possible. No matter how they coaxed or persuaded, it wouldn’t improve him. On the contrary, he retaliated. In such cases, removing the cause of future trouble was the wiser option.

    “It’s lucky if he only causes trouble with our own people like he did with my fellow disciple today. At least that can be dealt with inside Mount Hua. But if he gets entangled with other sects…”

    Ma Jincheon shuddered at the very thought.

     Before they realized it, the three had already placed the shaped dumplings into a hot steamer to cook evenly. Seong Muyeon carefully packed the finished dumplings into a tiered food container.

    “Don’t worry. Though it’s called punishment, it’s mostly for show—no one actually enforces it.”

    At Ma Jincheon’s words, Seong Muyeon nodded.

    “Please stay here, both of you. I’ll be back soon.”

    Seong Muyeon set off alone under the cover of darkness toward the Chamber of Repentance. It was a place carved out of a natural cave in a rocky mountain. Since the surrounding area was known to have the richest natural energy, it also housed meditation rooms for disciples undergoing closed-door training. Even in punishment, the elders had thoughtfully ensured it would aid their cultivation.

    But Ma Jincheon’s prediction was wrong.

    …There are guards?

    Two warriors stood sternly in front of the training cave, alert and watchful even in the deep night. Alarmed, Seong Muyeon quickly hid among the bushes. They seemed to be on high alert, possibly fearing that Baek Ryeoil might try to escape again.

    What do I do…?

    Anyone trying to approach the Chamber of Repentance would surely be blocked immediately. Moreover, everyone knew that Seong Muyeon was always seen with Baek Ryeoil. There was no way they’d let him through.

    Just as he was about to give up and turn back—

    “What are you doing here?”

    Seomun Yuha had come strolling by and happened to spot him crouched in the darkness.

    “Shh!”

    Seong Muyeon grabbed him by the collar and dragged him into the bushes.

    “W-what are you doing?”

    “More importantly, what are you doing wandering around this late?”

     

    “T-that’s private!”

    “Fine, just keep your voice down. We’ll get caught.”

    Seomun Yuha immediately shut his mouth. Thankfully, they hadn’t been noticed.

    “…Seriously, what are you doing?”

    His voice, this time barely louder than a mosquito’s, made Seong Muyeon lower his voice too.

    “I need to deliver something to Baek Dojang, but I didn’t expect there to be guards.”

    “Oh, you’re sneaking in? Over there?”

    “Yes.”

    “What’s so hard about that?”

    Without warning, Seomun Yuha sprang to his feet, his figure bathed in moonlight. The warriors spotted him at once and shouted sternly.

    “Who goes there! This area is off-limits. Leave immediately!”

    But Seomun Yuha, unfazed, walked up to them with a light and leisurely gait, like someone out for a moonlit stroll. One of the warriors, seeing his attire, spoke.

    “You’re an outer disciple? This is the Chamber of Repentance. Whatever your business is…”

    “Standing guard this late? That must be exhausting.”

    The bright, crisp voice—oddly out of place in the tense moment—was laced with a hint of flirtatious nasal tone. The two warriors, baffled, blinked in confusion.

    “Well, I mean… it’s not like we had a choice.”

    One warrior replied blankly, while his colleague nudged him sharply.

    “Hey! What are you doing—”

    “You must be working so hard, seniors.”

     Seomun Yuha twisted his body strangely, almost seductively.

    Watching from hiding, Seong Muyeon was utterly speechless.

     What in the world is he doing…?

    …Did he act like that with me, too?

    He recalled the incident back at the Seomun clan. Though he couldn’t remember clearly, he did recall Baek Ryeoil stepping in when Seomun Yuha had seemingly attempted to use the alluring abilities of the Hwa-jeong Valley³ on him. Imagining Seomun Yuha squirming in front of him like a squid on a hot grill made his stomach churn.

     “The moon is so bright tonight, don’t you think?”

     “Is… is it a full moon…?”

    “Come to think of it, isn’t Lunar New Year around the corner? How do you plan to spend it, seniors? I’ll be going home to see my parents.”

    At that moment, Seomun Yuha made a hand gesture behind his back—a signal to go in. Though skeptical, Seong Muyeon crawled cautiously out of the bushes. As the guards’ eyes began to drift toward him, Seomun Yuha raised his voice.

    “Oh, by the way! What did you have for dinner tonight, seniors?”

    The guards’ gazes snapped back to Seomun Yuha.

    …What a convenient ability.

    Despite the complete lack of context in the conversation, the guards nodded enthusiastically with blank faces.

    Seong Muyeon walked right past them toward the stone door of the Chamber of Repentance. The guards, too busy discussing side dishes, didn’t notice a thing.

    And so, Seong Muyeon successfully entered the Chamber of Repentance…

    “…Why is this so heavy?!”

    The massive stone door blocked his way. No matter how hard he pushed, it wouldn’t budge.

    Watching him, Seomun Yuha’s gaze briefly flickered with what looked like pity.

    “Excuse me, seniors. Could you please open the door?”

    The guards practically fought each other to do it. The moment they touched it, the door slid open with ease—despite how unmovable it had seemed for Seong Muyeon.

    Whew.

    Now, he had truly entered.

    The long, narrow cave was pitch black, but faint light from glowstones⁾ embedded in the ceiling made it possible to roughly make out his surroundings.

    Black openings lined either side. After checking a few, Seong Muyeon found Baek Ryeoil seated cross-legged in the dark, eyes closed.

    Sensing movement, he opened one eye slightly. Upon recognizing the face, he lifted one eyebrow.

    “What the—how did you… Wait, you came to gawk, didn’t you?”

    “Come on, there’s nothing to gawk at. I’m here because Master Ma asked me to deliver something.”

    Grumbling, Seong Muyeon pulled out the tiered food container. Fortunately, the contents were still warm.

    Steam billowed from the dumplings as they were revealed, and Baek Ryeoil looked at them with wide eyes.

    “Master did?”

    “Yes, so eat quickly. I have to take the container back—can’t let anyone find out I came in.”

    “…These are dumplings?”

    The dumplings Seong Muyeon had shaped were evenly round and consistent, but those made by Ma Jincheon and Kang Ung were misshapen or had burst open.

    Baek Ryeoil picked up one of the misshapen ones, clearly made by Ma Jincheon. The torn dumpling skin had already begun to shed its filling.

    Footnotes

    1. “이립” (Irip) – Refers to the age of thirty in Confucian philosophy, signifying a person is “standing firm” in their values and life path. 

     

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