430 - The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel

"Cheong-un Dosanim! Watch your step!" "The terrain is rougher than I expected." Cheong-un tilted his head upwards, gazing at the towering peak that seemed as if it could touch the heavens. Mount Changbai. Unlike the lush green land below, its summit was blanketed in white snow. Some called it Baekdusan, but the difference was negligible. Whether it was the long white mountain or the white-headed mountain, the meaning was the same. There were rumors of a lake atop the mountain. Cheong-un felt a lightweight step, gripped by the realization that he had finally reached his destination after a long journey. "In Joseon, they say the origin of all mountains is Mount Changbai. Thanks to that, herbs gathered from here can fetch a high price anywhere." The beginning of the Baekdudaegan, the ancestral mountain of all Korean mountains. Cheong-un nodded as he gazed at the mountain soaring higher than Wudang Mountain. "It truly has a mystical aura worthy of being called a sacred mountain." Even without conscious effort, one could sense it. Without even seeing the magnificent views, the sheer presence of nature could be felt throughout his body. It was indeed a rare sacred mountain, even in the Central Plains. Cheong-un was filled with hopeful anticipation of finding the person he sought. "Even if you were the Taoist who accompanied that formidable lady of the Mo Yong Family, don't let your guard down. The mountain lord might take you away at any moment." "Are you speaking of Miss Mo Yong?" Cheong-un's previously light steps came to an abrupt halt. "Oh dear, don't even mention it. The whole time I was asking for help, I nearly wet myself with fear. I still can't believe where I found the courage." The herbalist trembled as if scared just by imagining it. "I'm sure there's some misunderstanding." Cheong-un defended Mo Yong-sang-ah with a bitter expression. Tanghui. Mo Yong-sang-ah. The woman who purportedly devoured her husband and seized his wealth. The sensational rumors were unavoidable for anyone with ears in the Central Plains. Admittedly, there would be undeniable truths mixed within. However, Cheong-un chose to believe in the conversations they had shared through their swords day in and day out. Mo Yong-sang-ah's sword was infinitely upright yet troubled with sorrow and anguish. "Yes. It seemed to me that the benefactress wasn't someone who could devour a man with just a glance, as the rumors said. Still, for someone like me, it's only natural to be frightened. Ah! We've arrived." The herbalist expressed gratitude towards Mo Yong-sang-ah, yet the intimidating gaze he once faced seemed unforgettable, as he nodded cautiously. "There’s truly a shrine here. What is that?" Though dilapidated, it was unmistakably a shrine. Cheong-un asked as he watched the herbalist rummage through his possessions. "A cauldron. I'll just heat it; please wait a moment." "So it was a cauldron you had slung over your shoulder all the way up here." What the herbalist retrieved was a small cauldron. It must have been heavy. His silent ascent to this great height spoke loudly of his gratitude and desire to repay kindness. "But I'm a bit concerned." The herbalist, having finished his preparations, spoke as he stoked the fire with a poker. "What are you worried about?" "The Taoist we're meeting has quite a peculiar temperament." "I am well-acquainted with many eccentric Taoists myself." It's a mistake to think that cultivating the Tao leads one to a gentle and flawless character. Even among the Wudang sect, there were countless oddballs. Cheong-un smirked as he replied. "Oh, this is beyond that. Everyone who's met the Taoist of Mount Changbai calls him not a Taoist but a monster..." "Quiet." Cheong-un swiftly positioned himself next to the herbalist. "Was I loud? Everything is ready. Once the offering is presented, just a little patience will suffice." "Remain silent." Cheong-un's expression hardened. Why was the Taoist acting this way? Why was he neglecting the offering and his surroundings? Following Cheong-un's gaze, the herbalist finally understood the reason. "What are you... Gasp! M-mountain lord!" A tiger. A massive tiger was watching the shrine intently. "This makes no sense..." A tiger the size of a house. Its eyes glowed like lanterns under the tree's shade. Cheong-un's voice trembled with astonishment. "This isn’t the mountain lord’s territory! Why is it here?" "Step back." Cheong-un pushed the herbalist behind him and drew his sword. ‘It’s a mystical beast.’ This wasn't Cheong-un's first encounter with a tiger. During his half-year as a wandering hero, he'd even participated in hunts of man-eating tigers. But this tiger was different. A tiger was still a beast, and upon facing fierce intent and killing intent, they usually backed down instinctively. Cheong-un unleashed another wave of sharp killing intent. The tiger, however, unperturbed, shifted its gaze from Cheong-un to the herbalist. To determine so swiftly who the weakest was defied its instincts. Its sheer size was incomprehensible. This was undeniably the mountain lord of Mount Changbai. "W-what should we do? Ah! I have an idea!" "What is it?" There were rumors that herbalists carried their own tiger repellents. Remaining vigilant, Cheong-un asked the herbalist. "In the end, isn’t the tiger of Mount Changbai just a Joseon tiger?" "I'm listening." "I once heard from the people with black hair. They say Joseon tigers won’t eat you if you give them a macaron! Here, take this macaron!" The freshly steamed, sweet-smelling macaron arced gently in the air, striking the mountain lord on the forehead. "Grr..." Of course, it was futile. The macaron rolled away feebly. "Eek! I definitely heard they had a soft spot for macarons!" "It seems to have made things worse." The tiger's gaze was now fixed on the herbalist, its intent clearly unwavering. "Now that I think about it, I might have been mistaken! The story ended with the macaron vendor’s mother being swallowed whole after the macarons ran out!" "If the tiger charges, get inside the shrine." Cheong-un’s sword pointed at the tiger. "I can't abandon you, Dosanim! Ah! I've heard that if you offer a macaron, a rope descends from the sky!" "Stay calm." Cheong-un's voice was firm, but the herbalist's face had already gone pale. The massive tiger's killing intent was focused entirely on him. In such a situation, it was more likely for an ordinary person to babble in fear than to stay composed. Cheong-un knew he had to find a way out. He spread his senses wide, ready to react to the slightest movement from the tiger. "Dear moon! Oh, if you could just lower a rope!" There was no way it would happen. Then, suddenly— "Who dared waste such a precious macaron on the ground?" 'Since when?' Cheong-un's heart skipped a beat. He hadn't missed a single stealth attack in the dead of night, and he was fully concentrated. Yet now, a voice came from behind him as if it had always been there. "Dosanim!!!" "Hey?!" Startled by the herbalist's scream, Cheong-un looked ahead. The sudden appearance of a mysterious figure caused a momentary lapse in his focus. In that single moment, the mystical creature seized the opportunity and cast a giant shadow of death over the two men. Cheong-un tensed his grip on his sword. Mistakes can be rectified. He swung his blade at the beast heading for the herbalist. Had he seen wrong? The tiger's eyes seemed to carry a mocking grin, as if it knew better than to fall for such a simple move. 'The tiger's feint?! Dangerous...!' The beast turned its direction. The herbalist was merely a distraction to create an opening for dealing with Cheong-un, the true threat. As primitive violence bore down upon him, Cheong-un steeled himself. Could he block it? With clenched teeth, he moved to swing his sword when— Bang! With a sound like a thunderclap, the beast was thrown back against a tree. "What are you doing, acting so recklessly?!" A furious voice barked at the tiger. "What just happened?" Cheong-un looked to his savior, baffled. The man had wild hair—black and white mingled like tiger stripes. It was hard to discern whether he was old or middle-aged, but his voice was filled with anger. "You naughty cat! You came here for my snacks, not to make a meal of these people!" "Naughty cat?" His anger seemed directed at the tiger. Did they know each other? "Rrawwwrrrr!" "Eeeeek!" The tiger roared at the unexpected newcomer. "Are you rebelling against me?! Clearly, you haven’t been disciplined enough!" "Whimper!" Cheong-un could not fathom the spectacle before him. The man's hand held what looked like an ordinary stick. Yet, with one strike, the tiger howled like a whipped dog. The man continued disciplining the tiger until it behaved, much like a master correcting an unruly pet. "What on earth?!" "Ah?! The Taoist of the Changbai Sect?!" The herbalist revealed the identity of the master. "Ah! I wondered who was giving off that sweet aroma—it was you, the herbalist from before! You're a man of principle, despite being just an ordinary type!” As the tiger sprawled on its back like a submissive kitten, the Taoist of Mount Changbai turned towards them with a more welcoming tone. "Hahaha." "I had banished this rascal to lose some belly fat, not knowing he would sulk and run off. I nearly ended up offering you two as sacrifices instead!" "No, it's quite alright!" The man patted the herbalist's back repeatedly, who nodded vigorously despite the pain. "Pardon my intrusion." Could this really be the Taoist of Changbai Sect he was looking for? Cheong-un, though still shocked, mustered a respectful front and approached the man. "Yes, and who might you be?" "Urgh!" A pressure akin to being crushed by a boulder slammed into him. ‘This power is at least on par with a Nine Schools sect lead, perhaps even greater!’ It took all he had just to not buckle under it. Cheong-un barely managed to stay on his feet. "I asked who you were." "I'm a Taoist here for training! This macaron was prepared for you!" Sensing the escalating tension, the herbalist frantically vouched for Cheong-un. "So, not a suspicious outsider, it seems." "Huff... Huff." Once the oppressive aura lifted, Cheong-un could finally catch his breath. "Cat! Because of you, my precious snacks are now sullied with dirt!" "Whimper." His suspicions were slowly forming into certainty. This person was undoubtedly related to the Fengyun Heroic Tales. Cheong-un approached the man once more. "Greetings. I am Cheong-un from the Wudang Sect. If you don't mind, may I know your esteemed name?" "Macarons! Who made these so skilfully?! They are rather delicious!" "Please, don't eat the ones off the ground; here are some freshly steamed ones." Though Cheong-un spoke, the Taoist seemed more interested in the treats laid before him. "Do you know anything about the Wudang Sect?" "Dirt adds a special flavor. I don't mind!" Ignored entirely. It was overwhelming. Was the gap in their abilities that immense? Cheong-un felt like an ant standing before a giant. Still, Cheong-un persisted. He hadn’t spent over half a year on this journey just to see if a master lived on Mount Changbai. “Might you know if a Taoist surnamed Kang is residing here?” “The surname Kang?” For the first time, interest flickered in the master’s eyes. The man who had been ignoring him now showed a definite reaction. Cheong-un had to quell the excitement rising within him. “If you possibly have any information…” "There will be rain." “Sir.” Was he changing the subject? Did he know something? Could the martial legacy of Wudang, the hero's journey of Fengyun in Yunhyeon, have come to a halt here on Mount Changbai? “Sir. Sir! My ears tickle. Follow me inside; it will rain.” The master scratched his ears, perhaps embarrassed, then turned around with his treats in hand. “Then what should I call you?” Was it possible that the master in front of him was the very Kang he sought? Cheong-un gently prodded for the man's name. “Call me whatever the others do.” However, the Taoist's answer diverged from Cheong-un's expectations. "Pardon?" "I'm not an esteemed person. I am the eccentric of Mount Changbai." A journey begun with the words of one man. Connections beget further connections, weaving a multitude of ties. The bond one man created intertwined, guiding each other anew. Thus, the wheels of another connection were set in motion.