The old man who had told them to call him Doctor Gam sipped at his teacup. Then, gazing out the window, he asked:
“Who are you waiting for?”
Yi Yun, bandaged at the abdomen and seated in a chair, looked out after him and answered:
“...Warrior Jang. The man who saved my son and me.”
Outside the window, a small boy was stroking the back of a small sorrel horse. But anyone could see the child’s attention was fixed not on the horse but on the wilderness beyond the village.
Doctor Gam, watching Hwan, gave a faint laugh.
“From the way you tell it, he’s a knight-errant... but I’ve never once seen a man who called himself a knight-errant who truly deserved the name. And thirty bandits on his own? Sounds like he’s not coming back.”
“Warrior Jang never once called himself a knight-errant. And he’s already beaten more than a dozen bandits without so much as a scratch. Why speak of him that way?”
Doctor Gam, still smiling, turned his eyes on Yi Yun.
“Because I despise those martial world types. What do they do in the end? Eat well and kill people—murderers, nothing more. You’ve paid, so I’ll see to your meal. But when that Jang fellow comes, tell him not to cause the least bit of trouble in this village.”
“Couldn’t you tell him yourself?”
Turning away, Doctor Gam walked inside, showing only his back.
“I don’t speak to martial artists.”
Yi Yun gave a bitter smile and nodded. To him, Jang Geon was the benefactor who had saved his life. But to Doctor Gam, he was nothing but a troublemaker bound to stir unrest in this quiet village. They were the ones who had intruded; it was only right that they tread carefully.
He turned back to look outside at Hwan, who by now had grown weary of pretending to fuss with the horse and was leaning against the hitching post with his hands in his pockets, scowling toward the village entrance.
Watching his son, Yi Yun worried. Could Jang Geon really return? Stabbed and bedridden, he hadn’t truly seen the man’s skill. Yet recalling the calm he’d shown after the battle, the bare-handed point sealing he’d performed—it did seem he was a master.
And the last glimpse of his back lingered strongly in Hwan’s heart. If it weren’t so, the boy wouldn’t be waiting like this for someone he had only exchanged a few words with. Yi Yun wanted Jang Geon to return safely—more for Hwan’s sake than his own.
With a sigh that carried his thoughts, Yi Yun rose to help Doctor Gam prepare the meal. He hadn’t given the man much money. A groan slipped out, but at least by lending a hand he might see them served a proper dish.
Just then he saw Hwan straighten and pull his hands from his pockets. Yi Yun, catching the brightening of his son’s face, didn’t hesitate—he hurried to the door.
A lone rider was approaching the village at a leisurely pace. It was Jang Geon. His clothes were slashed in several places, and a cut showed on his brow just above his eye, but he seemed whole enough. Without his bamboo hat, he squinted against the sunlight.
Seeing Yi Yun and Hwan step outside, he turned Jojo toward them and smiled faintly.
“I’m hungry.”
Doctor Gam looked a little surprised when Jang Geon came in, but while the man ate with chopsticks, he said nothing at all. Even when treating the cut on his brow, he held his tongue so firmly that Jang Geon asked Yi Yun whether the doctor was a mute. Yi Yun, unable to repeat what the doctor had actually said, gave only an awkward smile.
Doctor Gam’s first words came only after Jang Geon had spoken.
“We’ll rest here tonight. Leave in the morning.”
“If you want to sleep in my house, pay extra.”
Yi Yun looked stricken, but Jang Geon only smiled easily.
“So the old man’s not mute after all.”
“I speak when I want to. Otherwise, I don’t. If you want to sleep in my house, pay extra.”
“D-Doctor Gam! I’ll send money later by courier. For now, please—”
Yi Yun hurried to speak, but Doctor Gam looked only at Jang Geon.
“Either pay more, or get out.”
Jang Geon studied the hard face a moment, then silently took a pouch from his robe and set down coins. Taking them, Doctor Gam bustled about tidying his clinic, then went out the door, saying:
“Be gone before I’m back tomorrow morning.”
The door slammed. Yi Yun gave Jang Geon an apologetic look.
“I’m sorry, Warrior Jang. He must dislike disturbances.”
“Distrusting strangers is only natural.”
So saying, Jang Geon stretched out on a long bench, closed his eyes, and went still. Hwan’s eyes lit as if he wanted to talk, but when Jang Geon lay down like that, the boy drooped in disappointment. Yi Yun, feeling a touch of pity, only stroked his son’s hair in comfort. After all, a man who had just slain thirty bandits deserved rest.
At dawn, Jang Geon and the two father and son made do with the leftovers from yesterday, then readied to depart. They tightened Jojo’s saddle and pulled their collars close against the chill morning air.
That was when Doctor Gam reappeared. To Jang Geon, who regarded him blankly, he thrust a bundle.
“...What’s this?”
“You’ll walk around looking like that? It’s not as if you’re proud to be some fight-loving martial artist.”
Inside was a broad black outer robe. Jang Geon, still wearing clothes slashed from blades, put it on at once. He turned to thank the man—but Doctor Gam, after a brief word with Yi Yun and Hwan, went back into his clinic without so much as a glance at Jang Geon.
Jang Geon chuckled and smoothed the robe. It wasn’t new, but it was clean, well washed. He turned to Yi Yun and asked:
“We’ll arrive today?”
“Yes. By evening at the latest.”
So they left the village by Namjak Lake.
They had set out with the rising sun. Aside from pauses for Yi Yun and Hwan to rest, they rode steadily. As morning stretched toward afternoon, the dry, yellowed land gave way to damp, green pastures. The broad, flat plain grew livelier, furrowed by creeks where clear water ran.
Tall trees with full green leaves appeared, and with Jang Geon’s sharp eyes, deer could be seen fleeing through the woods beyond.
“Not a bad place to live.”
“My sister-in-law wrote that the soil is stony, not good for farming. She runs several shops instead. A lot of stagecoaches pass through, so there are many outsiders.”
Soon enough, stagecoaches did appear. Not only those—riders on horseback, travelers on foot, small carts drawn by horses, ox-carts. Among them were many carrying swords. Yet none seemed eager for trouble; when eyes met, they only nodded politely and passed on.
By the time the sun leaned westward past its peak, they reached their destination. Boats were moored along a riverbank, and the streets thronged with people. Green Mountain Valley was less a village than a growing town—on its way to becoming a small city.
“Several shops in a place like this? That sister-in-law of yours is no ordinary woman.”
“...Neither of the sisters ever were.”
Yi Yun murmured bitterly. Thinking of his sister-in-law brought thoughts of his late wife. He quickly smothered the expression, wary of letting his son see. Luckily Hwan was too absorbed in the crowds to notice.
Dodging wagons, they entered the town. Finding someone without an address was no easy task, but Yi Yun persisted in stopping passersby to ask directions. Soon they came to a shop on the outskirts.
Its sign read: Green Mountain Valley’s Finest Sun Family Cloth Shop, Selling Beautiful and Noble Fabrics. In the New Continent, long-winded signboards were in fashion, and this one was no exception. Though it stood on the edge of town, customers came and went freely.
Inside, a woman was arranging bolts of cloth. At sight of her, Hwan cried out:
“Auntie!”
She turned at being called, then gasped to see Hwan’s face.
“Hwan! Brother-in-law!”
She hurried to close the shop and ushered them upstairs. Hwan, overjoyed, grinned ear to ear. Yi Yun, relieved at last, looked exhausted.
The woman introduced herself as Sun Yeon-o. Hearing their ordeal, she immediately fetched a pouch and offered it to Jang Geon.
“Thank you so much. To have saved my brother-in-law’s life... you’ll surely be blessed.”
Jang Geon eyed her hand, then glanced inside at its weight. Two silver coins, and a heap of copper.
“Seems I’ve already been blessed.”
He grinned, rose from his chair, and asked:
“Can you tell me where the forge is? And the trade guild?”
Sun Yeon-o offered to guide him herself. Yi Yun tried to follow, but she pressed him back into bed. Hwan went along silently, and they didn’t stop him. The boy had been shadowing Jang Geon’s every move since the day before.
Before leaving, Jang Geon looked back at Yi Yun.
“Rest well. And see a doctor later.”
Without waiting for reply, he went out. For some reason, he set Hwan on Jojo’s back and took the reins himself. Hwan grinned.
“How did you know I wanted to ride Jojo?”
“Just seemed like you would.”
As they followed Sun Yeon-o, Hwan chewed his lip, then asked:
“Where did you learn your martial arts?”
Jang Geon looked at the boy’s bright face, then turned forward again.
“From all sorts of people.”
“...All sorts of people?”
“In the Central Plains, there are plenty of teachers who sell martial arts. Their own skills aren’t much, but they teach well enough.”
Hwan looked shocked.
“I thought martial arts were only taught if you joined a sect?”
“Some sects are like that. The ones here in the New Continent, or the old orthodox sects. But most in the Central Plains are just cram schools.”
Hwan tilted his head.
“What’s a cram school?”
“Schools for the Imperial Army entrance exams. Join the Army, and you can learn real martial arts and earn a salary. That’s why Imperial Army masters are the ones called true masters.”
Hwan seemed to mull that over deeply. He was about to ask another question, but they reached the forge first.
“This is the best of the three in Green Mountain Valley,” Sun Yeon-o said.
“Thanks.”
Jang Geon bought a new sword without haggling, selling his old one for scrap. The blade was too worn for anything more.
“Shall I take you to the trade guild now?”
The trade guilds of the New Continent, formed to protect merchants’ rights and interests, often did banking as well. At the three-story guildhall she showed him, Jang Geon exchanged his small-denomination bonds. Twenty silver coins. The money he had spent on the sword had multiplied several times over.
He also bought a stiff new bamboo hat on the first floor. It looked fresh from the maker. Smiling in satisfaction, he stepped back outside.
Sun Yeon-o, tending Hwan, said:
“It’s time to eat. Do you drink? We have some fine liquor at home.”
“I appreciate the offer.”
While she looked puzzled at his refusal, Jang Geon lifted Hwan lightly down from Jojo’s back. The boy, blinking, then saw him mount again and blurted in alarm:
“Are you just going to leave?”
From the saddle, Jang Geon chuckled at being called mister.
“Mister? Do I look that old to you?”
Hwan clutched at his leg.
“J-Just stay a little longer. My aunt’s a great cook. You need a place to sleep. And... and...”
“You want me to teach you martial arts?”
“...If you would. And how to become a martial artist like you.”
Jang Geon bent down and patted the boy’s head.
“My skills are a hodgepodge of odds and ends—not something you could learn. Better to ask your aunt. She’s a master too.”
Startled, Sun Yeon-o looked up at him.
“...You have sharp eyes.”
“I looked closely at her hands. Thanks for the guidance. Because of you, I’ll be gone before dark.”
He dipped his head lightly to her, then straightened and set his new hat on. Glancing down at Hwan, he smiled.
“Live well.”
Then he nudged Jojo’s flank. The horse bobbed his head toward Hwan, as if in farewell, and trotted off. The avenue was quiet in the late afternoon, and they soon dwindled in the distance.
Hwan could not look away. Beside him, Sun Yeon-o realized the boy would never forget this moment—that he had found a dream. At the same time, she understood she had found an heir for her art, thought long buried in the New Continent. She turned back to watch with him.
Under the red setting sun, the warrior and his horse rode away.