Chapter Text
The entourage leaves the next day, which is expected since they have to return to Zhongnan as soon as they could and the way back is quite tedious. Not that Chung Myung actually knows that anyways, he could run to and fro Shaanxi and Xi'an without breaking a sweat. Chung Myung knew he didn't have to be here— well, technically he wasn't even there to send the Zhongnan entourage off, since he is currently perched on a nearby tree, taking a break from training— but it's a great chance to see Dongryong without explicitly seeking him out like a lovesick puppy.
The tip of his eyebrow ticks as he watches Lee Songbaek exchange some words with Dongryong and Junghwa, prompting a city-toppling smile from the young master. It's heartwarming, although Chung Myung was seeing it from a distance, and it would be even nicer if it was directed at him, Chung Myung thought, gnawing at his thumb.
After saying their goodbyes, Lee Songbaek bows to both Dongryong and Junghwa and turns to leave, but not before waving at Chung Myung. For a second, Chung Myung thought that Lee Songbaek couldn't have possibly spotted him, to which the man points at him before waving again, forcing Chung Myung to wave back hesitantly. His actions made Junghwa turn to look as well, and she narrows her eyes when she spots him.
With a satisfied smile, Lee Songbaek was about to leave, but then he sneaks a glance at Dongryong, stopping in his tracks once again. Before Chung Myung could wonder what's he going to pull out of his ass, Lee Songbaek yells out: “Goodbye, master Chung Myung!”
Chung Myung almost fell off the tree at this, and he flusters further when Dongryong finally turns in his general direction.
“Aish! Go away, you punk!!”
He wouldn't say they cackled, but Lee Songbaek nearly doubles over and Dongryong hides his laughter behind his sleeve. Even Junghwa smiles while shaking her head, her stern visage melting away ever so slightly. Chung Myung felt a smile of his own creep up his lips, and finds himself thinking that yeah, maybe not all Zhongnan people are bullheaded punks. Although they don't exactly know each other well, Chung Myung could tell the genuineness the man carries proudly will get him far.
After that, Chung Myung spends the next week in a haze— the numbers of demon attacks were dwindling, but that just made everyone more alarmed than ever— and every waking hour meant training until his hands seem to have developed an allergic reaction to his sword.. and it honestly did look like it. Chung Jin had taken one look at his hands and asked if he'd stuck it in a beehive. Despite him insisting on still being able to move his hand and that it barely hurts, he ends up being kicked out of the training hall.
Now that his head had been pulled out of training, he wonders what he could do while waiting for the swelling calm. Chung Myung didn't ever know how this happened, because he's used to training like this all the time. Maybe his healing capabilities are starting to slow down with old age, ah.. As he's contemplating on going down the mountain, his eyes land on the trail leading to Dongryong's temporarily abode.
He had wanted to visit Dongryong during his rare down time, but Junghwa turned him away, saying Dongryong was feeling a bit sick due to the higher altitude of Mount Hua. Chung Myung understood that Dongryong's health comes first, however disappointed he felt at that moment. He should be feeling better right now!
Light swirls in his eyes. He knew what he could do! Snickering sinisterly, he takes off down the trail. It probably wouldn't be hard to take Dongryong by surprise, but just to be careful, Chung Myung leaps up to the trees, managing to jump from branch to branch effortlessly with light footwork.
He sees Junghwa outside the building first. She'll call him out if she sees him, so Chung Myung stays hidden within the trees, observing her for the right moment to show himself. He wasn't very far away, but it did take some time for him to notice that Junghwa is going through basic sword sequences, albeit a little awkwardly without any sword in hand. Her movements are hesitant but mostly accurate, and sometimes her stance would falter, but it's near the end of the sequence when she sighs with a shake of her head.
“Junghwa,” came Dongryong's muffled voice, “Is everything okay?”
“It's nothing, young master. Just this old lady's joint pain acting up.”
Dongryong walks down the steps to the front yard, using the tip of his toes to check for ground before taking each step. Chung Myung can see how Junghwa watches him with concern but doesn't go to help him. “You always say that, but I recall you hauling a man out of our house because he wouldn't stop proposing to you.”
Junghwa sighs again, with annoyance but also the fondness reserved for Dongryong. “That was such a long time ago, ah, you were but a little child back then. Look at you now, married and all! If second lady Jin can see this, I just know she'll jump with joy.”
“If it's too much, you should go and rest. I think I'll take this chance to practice more advanced techniques today.”
There's that look on Junghwa's face again. One that tells Chung Myung she frets and worries for Dongryong through and through. As if, if she could, she would do anything that means Dongryong's happiness. But Chung Myung can see her holding herself back, and he realizes that it's for Dongryong's independence and the choices only he can make for himself. His respect for Junghwa deepens. Even when she didn't like that Chung Myung has been given her prized white cabbage.
“Alright, I'll go make sure there's enough firewood for tonight. However, if you need me, I'll be here for you,” She bows playfully, “Our dear third young master.”
Chung Myung perks up at his chance to surprise Dongryong, watching Junghwa disappear to the back of the house. But before he could do anything, he hears a sigh coming from below him. Chung Myung finds a person also hiding behind the tree, peeking out and holding something in their hands... Isn't that one of the cooks here? He follows the person's gaze towards the direction of Dongryong's house, and finds his mouth twisting into a scowl.
The person yelps when Chung Myung lands behind them, and they try to get away but to no avail as Chung Myung shakes them like a child would with a rattle.
“How dare you spy on another's wife? You must have a deathwish!” He hissed, his grip tightening on the person's collar. He can now see that the man was indeed one of the cooks here in Mount Hua, and it could be bad if he's in charge of Dongryong and Junghwa's food, because who on Earth with good intentions would be hiding behind trees and spying on people??
“Mercy, elder, mercy!” The cook frantically yells out, although the shaking doesn't stop. “I'm not spying on the guests!”
“Then what are you doing?”
“I'm here to.. get the food preferences of young master Jin and Lady Junghwa! Mount Hua's reputation would be damaged if we serve our esteemed guests with foods they don't like or have an allergic react— Uh, what happened to your hand, elder..?!”
Retracting his hands as if burnt, Chung Myung had to cough awkwardly. “I've apparently trained too hard.. but that's not the point! Don't do shady stuff if you don't have to be suspected!”
“Apologies, elder! Please don't hit me!”
Huffing, “I can help you with that. You need food preferences, right? I'll have the list dropped off at the kitchen by the evening.”
“Huh? Really?” The man looks surprised that Chung Myung offered, but averted his gaze hesitantly, “but..”
Chung Myung raises his hand threateningly at this, making the poor man cry out in panic. “Alright, alright! Please take note of allergies too, I'll be going now then!”
Feeling somewhat satisfied watching the man speed away, Chung Myung snorts to himself and turns around to resume his task in hand. Which is to catch Dongryong by surprise. Only to have the rest of his body jump out of his skin, a shout escaping from his lips, as Dongryong stands before him, huge turquoise eyes staring at him brightly. For someone who can't see, Dongryong's eyes sure are expressive, and Chung Myung can see them twinkle with amusement.
It should've been the other way around! Chung Myung clutched at his chest, having never felt this shocked in a long time. But his anger doesn't even have a chance to manifest with the smiling angel before him. If anything, he feels.. almost giddy.
“I heard a commotion over here, so I followed. Were you speaking with chef Kang?”
“Tall, lanky, timid as a mouse. Probably.”
Chung Myung doesn't know if that was actually Kang. Dongryong doesn't— and can't possibly— know how Kang looks like. Anyways.
“Why are you wearing a hat? Wouldn't that get in the way of your training?”
“Junghwa said the weather's not very harsh today, so I decided on a hat instead of a ribbon today. Even when it's not very bright, Eunryong hyung always nags me about protecting my eyes.” Dongryong smiles. “How did husband know I'm going to train today?”
The cutesy nickname made Chung Myung want to lock himself away in the caves. Because at this rate, he might not know what to do next and embarrass himself in front of Dongryong, or other people. But mostly Dongryong. Yes, how did Chung Myung know? Well, that's because he was spying on his wife. That's how.
..I'm not any better than that Kang!! Inside his head, Chung Myung fell to the ground, devastated. He quickly recovered with a cough after seeing Dongryong's expectant gaze.
“I..” Chung Myung decides it's best to be at least half truthful. “I heard lady Junghwa mention it. Is she trained in martial arts?”
Dongryong made a noise of understanding, then shakes his head. “Not exactly. Eunryong hyung taught her some basics so I'd have someone to spar with in Mount Hua. While, I'm grateful for her as learning the basics in a few weeks isn't easy— Don't tell her this, but training with Junghwa is not as stimulating as sparring with my hyungs. She's only familiar with the same few sequences I already know by heart, and I'm also constantly worried that I might hit her by accident.”
Chung Myung sees how his words are valid. There's very little they could do if improving and refining is what Dongryong's strives for. However.. An idea pops up in his head.
“What if I trained with you, Dongryong-ah? This way I can give you pointers as well.” But would that be too challenging for Dongryong, who came from Zhongnan? He's probably never seen any Plum Blossom techniques before, and the rapids strikes might be hard for him to block, especially without the ability to see them. Chung Myung falters with his offer, mumbling, “If you're feeling well enough, of course.”
His concerns weren't shared by the one he's concerned for, it seems, as Dongryong positively glows, “Really? The revered sword saint will do that for me?”
And where in his body could he find the audacity to reject such sparkly eyes and radiant smile? He could probably start with Falling Petal Sword first, and slowly make his way up to more difficult techniques. This way, not only can Dongryong get used to Mount Hua's style, Chung Myung can also gauge his skill level. Although— while he feels like a villain for even thinking this way— he doesn't expect much from Dongryong as a swordsman.
So here they are, standing across each other with wooden swords in hand. The swords weren't in brand new condition like Chung Myung had thought, it seems that Dongryong had brought them all the way from Zhongnan. Even with a quick skim through, Chung Myung can see the weak points created the wooden surface, and vaguely makes out a preferred pattern of blocking from the spots.
A part of Zhongnan's philosophy is that if one can block anything, then they will be undefeated. Something along the lines of that, Chung Myung believes.
“Tell me when you're ready, Dongryong-ah!”
“Okay!”
At Dongryong's indication, he gets into stance, crouching low with his sword positioned over him. He looks over Dongryong's calm posture, the tip of his sword pointed towards the ground, with only his tight grip on the hilt betraying his nervousness. Usually, Chung Myung wouldn't want to do anything to focus an opponent's attention on himself, but this time it seems appropriate.
“Here I come!”
Not even a split second later, Chung Myung darts right at Dongryong, executing Falling Petal Sword perfectly like he's done so thousands upon millions of times. And just like how Falling Petal Sword is muscle memory for Chung Myung, Dongryong's sword raises— clearly, perfectly, as if it knew the only thing it had to do in this moment— and the clashing of their swords felt like a brand new experience. Even the sound of the swords in contact were different.
A rush of.. something descends upon Chung Myung's head. Even the rocks he uses during weight training were softer than Dongryong's block, and Chung Myung just might never be able to go back to regular training. Show me the real deal, Dongryong-ah, show me what a lifetime of loyalty to Zhongnan looks like.
They go at it until the sun starts to dip into the horizon. The shift in Dongryong's demeanor as he got more comfortable with each technique Chung Myung used was fascinating— how he let his instincts guide his sword with the sole intent of holding up against Chung Myung's strikes that rain down in a shower of blossoms. And sometimes, just for a moment, Chung Myung would think that, there's no way this man can't see.
Because a normal person couldn't possibly even begin to grasp the way Dongryong's eyes concentrate with every meticulous block: so full with purpose and intent, so sure of himself. They see blindness as career crippling for a martial artist, and of course, that's a part of the truth— but just a miniscule part of it.
Perhaps what he could see is not the beautiful blossoms that blooms from Chung Myung's sword, but the energy within. The essence that makes Mount Hua.. Mount Hua. And the truth is— well, Chung Myung can't be exactly sure, but it is something Jin Dongryong will have to carve out with his own hands.
They had to stop when Dongryong pulled at his collar to loosen his robes, and Chung Myung drinks in the sight of his flushed neck, not that he would admit it. He needs to thank the deities— as well as Dongryong's mother, because no way he got even half of that beauty from Jin Chobaek— for bestowing the realm with the embodiment of every praise under the sun.
It takes two strides to reach Dongryong, and Chung Myung uses his fingers to tuck one side of Dongryong's bangs behind his ear, accidentally brushing again the sensitive shell. He smiles at the shiver he could see go through Dongryong, tracing his finger along the soft earlobe, playing with the exquisite jade earring adorned there.
“It tickles,” Dongryong tried not to squirm, a smile in his voice, “Stop teasing, husband.”
Chung Myung lets his hand move from his ear to his cheek, caressing the soft skin with his thumb, and the way Dongryong soaks up his attention is too adorable, Chung Myung could get addicted to it. Should he kiss those plump lips, so pink and lush? Would Dongryong allow him to? They're interrupted by Junghwa coming to bring Dongryong back into the house, gently suggesting that they should rest for the day.
“Master Chung Myung, I think you should get that hand of yours checked out. How did you even manage to fight all day with such serious swelling?” Junghwa clicks her tongue at him, but he can tell it's out of goodwill and not malice.
A bit disappointed, Chung Myung waves his not-swelled-up hand dismissively, “I was using my left hand just now, don't worry.” He then had to reassure a guilty Dongryong that he was the one who wanted to spar, and that he can use his left hand just fine.
He almost forgets to get the details he needed from Dongryong and Junghwa. But he does, and he carefully reads through Dongryong's as he treks to the dining hall. Most of Dongryong's preferences are pretty light and clean, with the exception of skewers marinated in red and black peppers, and he has no allergies whatsoever. His dessert selection is more vast— he can accept anything, but prefers hot desserts over cold ones. Chung Myung keeps in mind that chewy osmanthus cakes is his ultimate sweet treat.
It takes a while for Kang to notice him, with the usual pre-dinner rush in the kitchen— Chung Myung's relieved the man is actually a chef here— but the man scurries over hopefully as soon as he spots Chung Myung, delighted that he actually remembered about the task. Chung Myung notices that Kang takes a careful moment to read Junghwa's preferences, nodding to himself with determination.
Huh, it seems like Kang genuinely wasn't spying on Dongryong.. Chung Myung couldn't hide the Cheshire cat grin on his face.
Dinner goes by without a hitch, and by the end of it, Chung Myung's flagged down by Kang again, who all but shoves three bowls of sweet soup on a tray into his hands.
“Can you help me bring two of these bowls to young master Dongryong and lady Junghwa, elder? You can help yourself to the last one.” Kang hesitates, before pulling out a hairpin and a piece of crinkled paper. He tries to smoothen it with his hands, but to no avail, and he ends up just putting the two items next to the bowls. “And can you please pass this to lady Junghwa? Tell her it's from Kang Dae.”
“What am I, an errand boy? Why don't you save it for when you can give it to her yourself?”
Kang Dae stutters, “I.. I can't possibly! I'm not worthy— the trail to the guest house is also very dark, so I think elder is more suited for the job! Just— please, elder?” He clasps his hands together, practically begging Chung Myung.
Looking at the man before him, Chung Myung couldn't help but sigh. He's lucky Chung Myung wants to see Dongryong every chance he gets. Trekking down the trail in complete darkness, Chung Myung recognizes how something relatively easy for himself to do might be a death hazard to someone else— it's steep, and might just turn into a slide after wet weather. So he'll make sure to bring it up to Chung Jin later. As he approaches the house for the second time today, he's stopped by the sound of Dongryong and Junghwa conversing.
“We've always been worried that our young master wouldn't make any friends here.”
“But Chung Myung's not my friend—” and Chung Myung's stomach drops at this because what is Dongryong saying, “—He's my husband.”
“'Husband' can have many meanings, young master. A man could be in a loveless marriage and still be a husband— because that's what it is. A status, and by itself doesn't mean anything. But a friend? It takes a lot to be a friend.” Junghwa's voice is low and kind, like the streams in Mount Hua that flows calmly, endlessly. “And the master is definitely your friend.”
Chung Myung feels his heart twist at her words, although he doesn't know why. Something about being called a friend.. stings.
“..I've told you this before, haven't I, Junghwa? That I've always dreamt of meeting the Plum Blossom Sword Saint. I've never been out of Shaanxi— and with father's death and the frequent demon sightings, hyung wouldn't let me go anywhere.. Would it be bad if I said I saw this marriage as my key to escape?”
“Not at all, young master, this old lady thinks not at all. All birds must leave their nest to take flight sooner or later, but the most important thing is they must first find the courage to do so.”
A quiet snicker from Dongryong, “That's so sappy.” Resulting in a huff from Junghwa.
“But that's what I truly think, Ryongie-ah. Just take it as an old lady's ramblings.”
The night goes back to silence for a moment, before he heard Dongryong sigh softly. “When my hyungs broke the news to me, Eunryong hyung told me to think of this marriage as a.. just a normal alliance. That I don't have to like the sword saint, or please him in any way.”
Chung Myung used to think that way a week ago too, and all the things about not having to speak or each other after the ceremony were immediately shattered by eyes dusted with silver stars. He felt as though they should have met long ago— before responsibilities are borne by their shoulders and their homes are at risk of war. Perhaps.. it's not too late.
“But he's the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, and I don't think there will be a universe where I don't choose him.”
--
“Look at our young master, just as a romantic poet as his nanny. How proud I am!” Junghwa teases, and Dongryong laughs with her, feeling a bit silly for what he just said. Surely it's melodramatic and maybe even exaggerated, but he knows his own feelings clear as day.
How could he not be attracted to Chung Myung?
Who left medical teas and extra blankets for when he's nauseous with altitude sickness? Who agreed to spar with him, barely holding back, treating Dongryong like a swordsman rather than a cripple? Whose sword paths blossom pink, leaving traces of energy as beautiful as seeing real flowers?
They both pick up the silent knock at the door, and Dongryong hears Junghwa's chair creak as she goes to check on it. He patiently waits for her to announce who it is, but it never comes— instead Junghwa returns to the table, setting something down on top of it.
“What's this, Junghwa?”
A rustle of paper, then followed by Junghwa's confused murmur, “It's from Kang, looks like sweet soup with bird's nest and longan. Let me serve it up, young master.”
With a nod, Dongryong tilts his head downwards to 'look' at what he presumes to be where the bowls of sweet soup are put down. His fingertips slide against the polished wood of the table until they come in contact with something, which Dongryong takes a moment to identify as a tray. He smiles, because maybe it's a trick of the mind, but the tray handles still have a bit of warmth lingering there.
And Chef Kang couldn't have possibly made the trek here himself.
--
Chung Myung rushes into his room, hastily closing the door behind him, ignoring a disgruntled shout for him to keep it down. He then proceeds to overturn every furniture he could get his hands on— his books and papers laid in a heap at the corner of his room, some cupboards he's used to shoving random things into, and even his messy laundry hidden away in the closet.
He has to find them. Why did he have the tendency to forget where he's thrown anything anywhere? The last one had been given to him the night before the ceremony.. Someone bangs on his door to complain, but unless they wanted a thorough beating, Chung Myung knows they won't dare to simply barge into his room.
Finally— finally! Chung Myung triumphantly raises the five letters in his hand up like they're worth a full box of snow blossom pellets. They might as well be, because Chung Myung has decided that everything of Dongryong's will be priceless in his eyes starting this very moment, and he vows to keep every little item given by Dongryong in the future safe and sound.
Thankfully, the letters have dates on them to indicate in what sequence they should be read, as Chung Myung regrettably didn't remember which is which. Putting them in the correct order, he now knows the second letter had been written by Junghwa. Anger bubbles in him when he looks at the last three letters, knowing that he had criticized Dongryong for being "halfhearted" and "sloppy" for these exact letters. He would also realize— almost immediately— that the first letter is by the infamous hyungs, right when he reads the first few very ominous lines.
The night is long, outlasting every candle in Chung Myung's room. But the moonlight is plentiful, aiding Chung Myung as he reads, and reads, and reads.
--