Chwi Dugae read Kwak Yeon’s intent in his eyes and asked Branch Master Seo On-gae:

“How many temples are there on Daegok Mountain?”

“At least ten, I’d say.”

“Damn it, why are there so many temples on one mountain?”

They had run more than six hundred li without proper rest, let alone sleep. Even for masters of the arts, there was no not being worn down.

The very thought of scouring the whole mountain at once was dreadful.

“Daegok Mountain has long been famous as a Buddhist relic ground.”

“Relic ground or no, find out about those temples at once. Don’t send our hands up onto the mountain.”

You must not stir the grass and startle the snake. And since these were surely vicious men, there was the risk of Beggar Clan hands being hurt.

“Sub-Branch Master, then what is it you want us to find out...?”

“Whatever you can pick up by ear—rumors.”

“Ah! Yes...”

“If anything seems the least bit off, report to me at once.”

“Understood.”

“And where is the finest—no, the largest—guesthouse here?”

“We prepared sleeping quarters at the branch, since we heard you were coming, Sub-Branch Master...”

“Not for me. Brother Kwak here intends to lodge.”

“...”

“How could we put a honored guest in a beggar’s lean-to?”

Of course, “honored guest” was only words. Chwi Dugae fully meant to strip him for a proper reward for the forced march.

But within the Jigok County seat there was only one guesthouse, and not a large one.

“Sub-Branch Master, Jigok County sits a little off the post road; travelers are scarce.”

Hearing that, it became even clearer why those men had chosen to hide nearby.

It was a place that didn’t funnel traffic through the county seat and so drew fewer eyes.

A fine location for them; a disappointment for Chwi Dugae, who had hoped to enjoy some real luxury.

“What’s the best liquor here?”

At Chwi Dugae’s question, the errand boy answered with a slightly baffled face:

“At our restaurant, Bamboo Leaf Green is the best.”

It fell well short of Sohong Wine or home-brewed reserves, but Bamboo Leaf Green was still a good drink.

‘If not quality, then quantity.’

Satisfied enough, Chwi Dugae nodded.

“Bring, to start, ten bottles of that.”

“...Ten bottles of Bamboo Leaf Green?”

At the errand boy’s skeptical look and counter-question, Chwi Dugae jerked his chin toward Kwak Yeon across from him.

“Though he looks like this, this young lord is a God of Wealth.”

Kwak Yeon spoke quietly to the errand boy.

“I’ll pay in advance. Bring what we ordered.”

“Ay, yes, sir. And what dishes shall I bring? Bamboo Leaf Green pairs well with Dongpo Pork and Grilled Sliced Wine-Marinated Chicken...”

Chwi Dugae said:

“Why ask such a thing? Where a needle goes, thread follows.”

“Sir, understood.”

Taking the silver Kwak Yeon produced, the errand boy walked off with his mouth agape.

“Brother Kwak, we’ve all but found them now. They’ll surely be holed up in one of those temples.”

Pleased, Chwi Dugae went on:

“Let’s fill our bellies while we wait on news. Chewing nothing but dry rations this whole time has left a hollow in my gut.”

“I pressed too hard. My apologies.”

“What apologies between us? It’s not like I don’t know your mind. But what will we do when we find the temple they’re in?”

Kwak Yeon realized he had focused only on finding them.

“We’ll have to go and test them, first of all.”

“Even knowing they’re no ordinary men?”

Seeing Kwak Yeon’s composed expression, Chwi Dugae nodded.

“Well, that’s true enough. At your realm there isn’t much need to weigh front and back.”

“It’s not because I’m confident that I’d go at once.”

“Hm?”

“Judging by their operations so far, they’re quite organized. If so, it’s likely they have feelers laid all around. Thanks to you, we’ve tracked this far quickly—but from here on, time is on their side.”

“So rather than be cautious, it’s better to hurry and strike where they don’t expect.”

Chwi Dugae saw why Kwak Yeon had urged the pace without a moment’s rest.

If those men caught the least scent, they would surely prepare.

Above all, the abducted could be put in danger—assuming the abducted still lived.

Chwi Dugae knew Kwak Yeon still held hope that the Sage Taoist lived.

“Brother Kwak, I’ll do my share, of course. Not that I can compare to you.”

“Thank you. Your help to me is no different from a host of heavenly troops.”

“What ‘host of heavenly troops’...”

His mouth demurred, but the corners of Chwi Dugae’s lips curled.

“At any rate, it’s been a while since I swung my cudgel to my heart’s content.”

Unknown as the organization was, with one absolute master a step past the threshold of the Fire Realm and one Peak Master at the limit of Fire, there was nothing they could not handle.

Now all they had to do was eat their fill and wash away fatigue with Bamboo Leaf Green while the Branch Master brought word.

Right on cue, the errand boy came with steaming dishes and the bottles of Bamboo Leaf Green.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. The cook said he wished to do the dishes justice.”

Dishes covered the table; the Bamboo Leaf Green bottles were lined in a row.

“Please enjoy!”

Tschap!

Licking his lips, Chwi Dugae snatched up his chopsticks.

“Brother Kwak, food first. A full stomach brings strength.”

Even a master draws no strength on an empty stomach.

—Cheok!

The sound of chopsticks plunging into Dongpo Pork was exquisitely slick.

Just as the errand boy had said—clearly the cook had done it right.

Both of Chwi Dugae’s eyes glittered like morning stars as he lifted a chunk of Dongpo Pork.

The instant it entered his mouth, that savory, salty fat would flood his tongue. Then the fatigue of the past days would vanish at a stroke—

‘Hm?’

Over Kwak Yeon’s shoulder, Chwi Dugae spotted Branch Master Seo On-gae of Jigok County entering the restaurant.

‘Why is that brat here already...?’

A fierce sense of déjà vu sent a chill up his spine. He recalled the scene in the Gaseok County restaurant three days before.

At least that day he’d managed a first spoonful before the Gaseok Branch Master had come for him.

‘Don’t come! Not now, of all times.’

But Branch Master Seo On-gae had already seen him and was hurrying over.

Chwi Dugae was plunged into a grave dilemma.

Pretend not to notice and at least take one bite of the Dongpo Pork? Meeting Seo On-gae’s eyes now would be a loss of face, but...

Dongpo Pork—or the Sub-Branch Master’s dignity?

While he wrestled in earnest, Seo On-gae’s voice sounded:

“Sub-Branch Master!”

At that call, Kwak Yeon set down the chopsticks he had just lifted.

—Tak!

That cold crack rang through the restaurant, and Chwi Dugae could no longer debate.

“Oh? Branch Master, you’re here?”

His hand trembled as he set the Dongpo Pork back on the plate.

“I’ve found it.”

“Already?”

“How could I be careless with the Sub-Branch Master’s order?”

Chwi Dugae wanted to fling the entire plate of Dongpo Pork into Seo On-gae’s smiling face.

‘Damn it—why are these beggars so spry today of all days?’

He had completely forgotten how he had been on them like a madman.

The Sub-Branch Master had run six hundred li in a breath and even emphasized, “Even the laziest man under Heaven—me—has been this diligent; that’s how grave this matter is.” Naturally, the Jigok Branch had gone to red alert.

“Speak.”

Forcing himself to ignore the Dongpo Pork before him, Chwi Dugae said:

“Huayang Temple seems to be the place you’re looking for, Sub-Branch Master. A few years ago, the abbot of that temple changed.”

“What’s so great about a temple changing abbots?”

“It wasn’t only the abbot. After that, all the monks who’d been there left. Of course, other monks came in their stead.”

At that answer, Chwi Dugae’s bristling posture shifted.

“All the monks were replaced?”

“So they say. For a time the temple’s lay believers whispered about it. And a while later, that abbot turned the place into a meditation cloister—no ordinary Buddhist services.”

A meditation cloister is a temple where monks enter retreat and cut all ties with the secular world.

Listening in silence, Kwak Yeon spoke abruptly:

“Huayang Temple is certainly suspicious.”

With an ominous look, Chwi Dugae glanced at Kwak Yeon.

“Brother Kwak, are we going right now?”

“...”

“Of course we are.”

Seeing Kwak Yeon answer by rising, Chwi Dugae scrambled up as well.

“Branch Master, where is Huayang Temple?”

“I’ll guide you.”

“No. At your level you’ll only be in the way. Just explain.”

“From where the post road ends, take the right-hand mountain path. There are guide-stones along the way; you won’t have trouble finding it.”

“Branch Master, the food here is paid for—pack it up and take it.”

“Ah!”

Gripping the drooling Seo On-gae by the shoulder, Chwi Dugae said:

“If you eat it alone, you know what happens.”

“Gah! I’ll share with the boys. And I’ll say the Sub-Branch Master sent it.”

Snagging one bottle of Bamboo Leaf Green, Chwi Dugae hustled out of the restaurant.

****

As Branch Master Seo On-gae had said, Huayang Temple was not hard to find.

Perhaps because the faithful had fallen away, weeds choked the mountain path and made for some nuisance.

But past the temple’s first gate, everything was well kept; nothing snagged or hindered.

“Did we pick wrong?”

Even Chwi Dugae cocked his head.

If villains had seized a temple, the grounds would not be kept so neat.

“Well, what’s on the surface isn’t everything. Let’s go in all the same.”

If it truly was a meditation cloister, it would be a grave discourtesy; but having come this far, they could not do otherwise than confirm.

Soon several halls came into view.

As they neared, a faint fragrance of incense drifted; with the wooden-fish’s clack, sutra-chanting sounded—no different from any other monastery.

‘Did we really pick wrong?’

Feeling thoroughly out of sorts, Chwi Dugae passed under Huayang Temple’s Guardian Kings Gate.

A novice sweeping the Great Hall’s yard spotted Kwak Yeon and Chwi Dugae and stared, startled.

“Namo Amitabha.”

Setting down his broom and joining his palms, the novice asked:

“This is a meditation cloister; we do not receive incense-offering guests. Benefactors, it seems you’ve taken the wrong road.”

Kwak Yeon joined his palms in return and said:

“This donor is a lay Taoist of Samryeong Palace on Mount Wudang. Passing by, I heard Huayang Temple was a meditation cloister and came seeking instruction.”

“Ah, a fellow cultivator of Mount Wudang. And the benefactor beside you...?”

Startled into joining his palms as well, Chwi Dugae said:

“This beggar is Hu Gae of the Beggar Clan. I happened upon Taoist Kwak as he climbed and stopped by hoping for a cup of boiled tea water.”

The novice shot Chwi Dugae a small look of surprise.

“The Beggar Clan... the famous fraternity of the rivers and lakes...?”

Chwi Dugae nodded.

“Yes. The Beggar sect—that Beggar Clan.”

“Truly honored guests. I will inform the abbot at once.”

The novice turned briskly and walked toward the Great Hall.

Chwi Dugae sent Kwak Yeon a puzzled look.

‘This feels like an ordinary temple.’

With no particular response from Kwak Yeon, he turned his gaze and began to scan the grounds.

There was no sign of anyone; it seemed all the monks were in the meditation cells—if, indeed, this was a meditation cloister.

Presently the wooden-fish stopped, and the chanting ceased.

The left-hand door of the Great Hall opened, and an elderly monk in long robes appeared.

Kind-faced, smiling at the corners of his mouth, he descended the steps of the Great Hall.

“Namo Amitabha!”

Joining his palms, the old monk bowed to Kwak Yeon and Chwi Dugae.

“This poor monk is Seonwol, abbot of Huayang Temple.”

Seeing the six faint, bluish burn-marks dotting the center of the old monk’s gray-shorn head, Chwi Dugae knit his brows without thinking.

He was a true monk—tonsure-branding long past.

‘With burns faded that far, it has been a good thirty or forty years since the vows.’

The Dongpo Pork he had left back at the Jigok County restaurant wavered before his eyes.