Chapter v20c8

## Yeong-Ryeong, Accepted

– The Mysterious Scholar in Black

The next morning…

Leaving Mong-Mu and Hwan-Mu behind to guard their belongings at the inn, Yeong-Ryeong ventured out alone. While having her maids attend to her was convenient, it sometimes felt suffocating, like being watched or confined. She yearned for solitude, and excuses were plentiful. Choosing a suitable one, she stepped out, her heart feeling lighter.

“He said it was at the eastern pier, right?”

If the woman’s words were true, the path to Machun Pavilion would be there. She decided to head there, enjoying the lake breeze along the way.

As she had expected, Machun Pavilion wasn’t on land. It was on the water. That was why people often couldn’t answer her question about its location. “It’s in Dongting Lake” wasn’t a helpful answer.

Dongting Lake was vast, large enough to swallow a small country whole. Searching for Machun Pavilion within its expanse was like navigating the ocean without a map.

The fishermen called it the Dragon King’s Castle. Only a limited number of boats went there. Other fishing boats wouldn’t dare approach, fearing for their lives. But as long as they didn’t trespass, they were protected, so they obeyed. Only one pier offered passage to Machun Pavilion. At the entrance of the pier, a small tent housed a lone desk, a flag beside it simply reading “Reception.”

* * *

“What brings you here, Miss?”

The scholar in black, who had been sitting alone at the desk, writing something with a brush on a piece of paper, stopped and looked at her with an indifferent gaze. He was young and handsome, seemingly in his late twenties, with eyes that resembled a still, nocturnal lake. Deep, dark, unreadable. His expression was as impassive as his tone, devoid of any emotion. One might wonder if blood even flowed beneath his skin.

“I’m here to take the Machun Pavilion entrance exam, of course.”

She replied, as if it were obvious.

“A maiden like yourself?”

He asked, his voice laced with skepticism.

“Oh my, I can’t just ignore that. What does it matter if I’m a maiden or a married woman? Isn’t it common sense in the martial arts world not to judge by appearances? Am I wrong?”

She retorted sharply, but his response was calm and concise.

“You’re wrong.”

He said bluntly.

“Why am I wrong?”

She asked, slightly taken aback.

“Because your claim is still unconventional in the martial arts world. Most martial artists still judge by appearances. Common sense refers to what is widely accepted. So you’ll have to wait a few decades, or maybe even centuries, for your claim to become common sense. Of course, it might never happen. So you’re wrong.”

“T-that’s sophistry!”

She exclaimed, feeling frustrated.

“You’re being unreasonable.”

He replied simply.

“W-what?! Are you done?”

She was even more frustrated. His words, though infuriating, made a strange kind of sense, and she almost agreed with him.

‘What kind of man is he?’

She felt a surge of anger, looking at him sitting there so calmly.

“What’s your name?”

His question, thrown at her so abruptly, caught her off guard.

“Huh?”

She couldn’t believe he was asking such a basic question.

“I’m going to register you. I need your name for that.”

He replied, dipping his brush in the inkstone, his voice laced with annoyance.

“Yeong-Ryeong.”

“Family name?”

“Mong.”

“Age?”

“Twenty… four.”

“Hmm? Twenty-four is a bit late. Most people give up on entering at that age.”

“I had an accident.”

She replied, fiddling with the hair that covered her left eye. She wasn’t wearing an eyepatch, but her left eye was blind. He stared at her for a moment, then turned back to his paperwork.

“Where are you from? A sect? A family? Anything.”

He asked, dipping his brush in the inkstone again.

“Dream Illusion Manor.”

She replied.

“Dream Illusion Manor? Where’s that?”

“It exists. I’m from there. You can tell just by looking at me, can’t you?”

“Where is it located?”

“That’s a secret.”

“You don’t know, do you?”

He said casually.

“Are you picking a fight? I was born and raised there, of course I know! Isn’t it common sense in the Dark Faction not to reveal the location of your sect or base? Just look at Machun Pavilion!”

“You have a point. I can’t argue with that.”

He wrote “Unknown” in the location field. But there was still a lot of empty space on the paper. She felt the need to inform him that a single piece of paper couldn’t possibly capture the entirety of her life.

“What else should I write in the remaining space? It seems a bit insufficient to contain my entire life story.”

“You’ll find out. And it’s better to have something than nothing. At least it’s one more piece of evidence.”

He replied bluntly.

“Are you married?”

“No, I’m single.”

She replied, her voice slightly haughty.

“Do you have a lover?”

Her face flushed at his casual question.

“W-what kind of question is that? What does my love life have to do with the exam?”

“I’m just asking because it says so on the form. Maybe they’re worried that a lover might distract you from your training. Do you have one or not?”

He asked again, as if he didn’t care either way.

“N-no, not yet…”

“Not yet… Do you have anyone you’re interested in, or have your eye on?”

“You’re quite persistent.”

“Just being thorough.”

He remained calm.

“There is someone I admire. My life belongs to him.”

She blushed slightly.

“Is that true?”

He asked, his voice serious. Her right eyebrow shot up.

“Are you questioning my sincerity?”

She asked, her voice sharp.

“It’s possible that you’re lying, isn’t it?”

But he didn’t back down. He seemed determined to say what he wanted to say.

“It’s true. I’m not lying! How can I not know my own heart? How can this feeling be a lie?”

“You’d be surprised. Miss, most people don’t know their own hearts. And the heart, being formless, can be molded into anything, true or false. Haven’t you heard of hypnosis?”

“Are you saying I’m hypnotized? This is ridiculous!”

She shouted.

“I never said that. Don’t put words in my mouth.”

He shrugged, unfazed by her anger.

‘What kind of man is he! There’s a limit to rudeness!’

She was speechless. How could he say such things to someone he had just met?

“Anyway, I’m being sincere. I’ll consider it an insult if you continue this line of questioning.”

He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Remember that feeling. As long as you believe it’s true, it’s the most genuine feeling in the world. That man will be happy. I envy him. He’s either the luckiest man in the world, or… the unluckiest!”

A flicker of emotion, like a fleeting ray of sunlight on ice, appeared in his eyes, then vanished. But she was too flustered to notice.

“Anything else I need to know?”

“No. The Dark Faction doesn’t care about trivial matters.”

“Weren’t those personal questions you just asked trivial?”

She asked, pouting.

“Think what you want. There are two things that matter most for entering Machun Pavilion. One is skill, of course. And the other is…”

He extended his hand towards her.

“What’s with the hand?”

She asked, pointing at his open palm.

“Give it to me.”

“What do you mean?”

She asked, tilting her head.

“You don’t even know that? And you’re applying?”

“I don’t know.”

He sighed and said curtly,

“The application fee.”

“Application fee? There’s such a thing?”

“Of course. I can’t work while I’m stuck here for days, can I? There might be free things in the world, but there’s no such thing as free in the Dark Faction.”

He said, his expression as serious as a monk preaching the truth.

“How much is it?”

He held up five fingers.

“Five silver taels?”

He closed his hand, then opened it again.

“No. Ten gold taels.”

“What? Ten gold taels? That’s too expensive!”

She protested, her eyes widening at the exorbitant amount.

“The children of the Dark Faction are wealthy. A poor Dark Faction is an incompetent faction. And incompetent factions produce incompetent disciples. We don’t need incompetent people. So this price is reasonable.”

It was a cold assessment.

“So you’re saying you can measure skill with money?”

“To a certain extent. Especially in the Dark Faction, where personal ethics are considered a hindrance, ‘money’ and the ability to accumulate it are the ultimate measures of ability.”

“How many applicants are there usually?”

“Usually around one thousand to one thousand five hundred.”

Her eyes widened again.

“That many? You could run your business for a year without working.”

“Why would we want to do that? We need to keep working. Money is always good. Especially in the Dark Faction. We’re not driven by vague concepts like honor or justice. We’re driven by money and power. And the web of money is complex. The more money you have, the more places it goes.”

“I see. I understand half of it.”

She nodded.

“Why only half?”

He asked.

“But there might be talented people who are poor, right? Like the disciples of a recluse?”

She didn’t want to give up. She felt like she would be admitting defeat if she agreed with him.

“The leaders of the Dark Faction might retire, but they don’t become recluses. Of course, some of them might choose to live in seclusion after retirement. But they still receive tributes. And they always have hidden wealth. If they don’t, they’re incompetent. And they’re not leaders. So if this recluse is from the Righteous Faction, it’s a different story. But if they’re from the Dark Faction, they must have wealth.”

(TLN: dude talks like the mc)

“That’s a very extreme view. But there might be exceptions, right? A disciple of a Righteous Faction master could join the Dark Faction.”

“You’re quite persistent. You’re right. That’s a sharp observation. There are exceptions. But they’re rare.”

“What happens in those cases?”

“We give those penniless applicants a small chance. We’re not that heartless. On the contrary, the Dark Faction welcomes anyone with talent, regardless of their background.”

“What kind of chance?”

“They have to pass a certain test.”

“What kind of test?”

“You’re a curious one. They have to reach Machun Pavilion without using the regular ferry. That’s all. But…”

“But what?”

“We’re not responsible for their deaths. It’s clearly stated in the ‘Entrance Guidelines.’ You have to read it and sign it at the end.”

She read the section he pointed at.

“This exam is conducted at your own risk. We are not responsible for any accidents or deaths that may occur during the exam.”

And there was a signature line next to it.

“Quite a few people give up after reading that. What will you do?”

He asked, handing her a brush dipped in ink. She took the brush without hesitation and said,

“I’ll sign it, of course.”

She had never intended to back down.

“Will you pay the application fee, or will you take the special test?”

“Hmm… I’ll just pay the fee.”

She replied after a moment of contemplation.

“Are you sure?”

“Why? Is something wrong?”

“No. I just thought you would choose the special test.”

“We just met.”

“I’m talking about someone else. Good thinking. That’s the wise choice. The Dark Faction doesn’t take the straight path. We take shortcuts. But…”

“Really? Isn’t that cowardly?”

“There’s no such thing as cowardice in the Dark Faction. The result is all that matters, not the process. You’ll get hurt if you enter with a naive mindset.”

“Is that a warning?”

“Just a piece of advice. It’s so obvious that it’s not even a warning.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Here’s ten gold taels.”

He opened a box and took out a token.

“Take this token. And board the boat with the red flag that arrives at the pier tomorrow at exactly 5 am. Show them this token, and they’ll let you on board.”

“What if they pretend they don’t know what I’m talking about?”

She asked playfully.

“I wouldn’t take that risk. The fish here are well-fed. They won’t welcome you with open arms. They might even leave you behind.”

It was a far more terrifying threat than drowning.

“Thanks for the advice. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Farewell. I won’t be here tomorrow. Good luck.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. Thank you. By the way, we haven’t introduced ourselves properly. We just met, but I have a feeling we’ll be seeing each other often. Let’s exchange names. You know mine, so why don’t you tell me yours?”

“…”

He was silent.

“Why? Don’t you want to tell me?”

“No, it’s not that. My name… My name is…”

He seemed to be struggling to say his own name. She didn’t know why, but it looked like he was fighting with himself. And then he finally spoke.

“Eun… Myeong…”

“Huh? What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

He looked up, his expression determined.

“I’ll only say it once, so listen carefully. My name is Eun-Myeong.”

‘Hmm?’

She felt a pang in her chest, a strange tingling sensation. Had she heard that name before? She rolled the name on her tongue, savoring its sound.

“Eun-Myeong…? That’s an unusual name. I’m sure they didn’t put much thought into it.”

She said, smiling brightly. He didn’t smile back.

“I agree.”

“Who named you? Your father? Your mother? Your grandfather?”

A flicker of pain crossed his eyes.

“You don’t need to know. Farewell.”

“Tsk, you’re no fun. Alright, I’ll see you soon.”

She took the token and turned to leave.

He watched her go, his eyes, which had been as calm as a nocturnal lake, now stormy with emotion.

A man with sharp eyes, carrying a long, flat object wrapped in black cloth on his back, approached him and bowed respectfully.

“It’s time to go, Master. The captains’ meeting is about to begin.”

He stopped moving.

“You called me ‘Master’ again.”

He said, his voice laced with disapproval, without turning around.

“I-I’m sorry. My mistake, Captain.”

“Just remember. I’m not your master anymore. Just like you’ve hidden your wings, I’ve hidden my name.”

“I-I’ll keep that in mind.”

He nodded slightly, gathered his “documents,” and stood up. He glanced at her retreating figure one last time, then turned and walked away.

* * *

Yeong-Ryeong walked back to the inn, her steps light, despite the hefty application fee. She was thinking about the scholar in black she had just met. He felt strangely familiar, even though they had never met before. He was intriguing.

“Eun-Myeong…”

She rolled the name on her tongue, savoring its sound.

“What a strange name.”

The tingling sensation in her chest was gone.

Her tongue felt numb.