Chapter 114 — Nowhere to Go
The problem began the moment he left Gaegyeong.
A group of mounted riders started following him.
He changed direction several times to confirm whether they were truly after him.
They followed every time.
He had decided not to return home, yet he had nowhere else to go.
He circled around, trying to draw them off, but they kept a steady distance and did not fall behind.
He pushed his horse to full speed toward Pyeongju.
A key waypoint northwest of Gaegyeong.
Switching mounts, he rode at full speed.
The pursuers gradually fell behind.
Goryeo horses could not match Jurchen ones, but changing to fresh mounts widened the gap quickly.
After passing several hills, he was completely out of their sight.
Yeong-u hid behind a ridge in a narrow mountain pass and waited.
After a long, almost tedious wait, he finally saw them.
About twenty men—private retainers of some noble, not soldiers.
He had confidence he could defeat them.
But could he subdue them without killing?
This was not a battlefield.
To kill here would be murder.
Better not to cross that line.
It would haunt him for a long time.
In the valley of death, where he walked daily, there was no sense of "killing" or "murder."
Because it was war.
All human emotions flattened out.
There was no difference in value or importance—only equal beings, each with a different face.
But here, this was a place where people lived.
The moment he left for leave, everything changed.
They were people.
And because of that, he could not shoot.
Yet he could not die in their place either.
After confirming they had moved away, he retraced his path.
Near Gaegyeong, he heard a voice.
"Sounds like you made quite a scene."
A man stood there in worn clothes, a hwando sword at his side.
His head was shaved, a bamboo hat pulled low.
A familiar figure.
A hermit.
"Who are you?"
"What? You don't recognize me? That's disappointing."
"My apologies. I can't remember everyone."
"We fought together at Seonchun Pass. You said you'd buy me a drink one day."
It was a familiar kind of exchange.
It felt like he should remember—but he didn't.
He had probably said that line dozens of times.
A convenient phrase to smooth things over.
Let's have a meal sometime.
I'll buy you a drink when I get leave.
Harmless lies.
And yet some people clung to them.
"I said that?"
"You did. I saved your life, and now you've forgotten."
"I'm sorry. I've nearly died too many times to remember them all."
"Still… forgetting someone who saved your life?"
Yeong-u glanced along the road.
"Why are you being chased?"
"I'm not."
"Don't lie. I saw them chasing you."
"You did?"
"I did."
"I lost them."
"That's not the end of it."
Yeong-u muttered,
"The king asked questions, so I told him everything. Those bastards panicked."
"You're a Nangjang now. Watch your language."
"I'm not that refined."
"…Fair enough. Come with me."
As he spoke, the man untied Yeong-u's spare horse and mounted it as if it were his own.
There was a natural ease in the way he moved.
"Where are we going?"
"To show a lost soul where to go."
"…How did things end up like this?"
The hermit looked at him closely.
"I wanted to tell you to restrain yourself."
Had anyone else said it, Yeong-u would have been angered.
But not now.
"You're right. I should have. But those shameless men made me furious."
Hermits were different.
They lived outside worldly desires.
The world was hard because people pursued their own gain at the cost of others.
But these men… they could be trusted.
As they rode along the main road, they encountered another group of pursuers.
About twenty men passed by, then suddenly recognized Yeong-u.
Shock flashed across their faces.
"It's him!"
One shouted.
Yeong-u and the hermit passed them like the wind.
By the time the riders turned, they were already dozens of jang away.
The hermit removed his bamboo hat.
Only then did his face become clear.
It was Han Ji-un.
"Ah! Master Han Ji-un!"
"You said you didn't remember."
"With that hat pulled low, I thought you were someone else. I remember you as warm and gentle."
It sounded like he was being told—live as that man.
"Bullshit."
Yeong-u laughed.
"It's good to see you. You appear and disappear so quickly, I thought you were nearby."
"I come and go."
Even at full gallop, his words were clear.
Han Ji-un gestured behind them.
"What about them?"
"Good question."
"You're fierce in battle, but here you hesitate."
"I only learned how to kill. Not how to spare."
"Then what will you do? They're still coming."
"I thought you might have an answer. If not, I'll handle it."
Han Ji-un smirked.
"Go ahead. Let me see."
Yeong-u glanced back and quietly scattered powder from a pouch at his saddle.
"Hey! That'll hurt others too!"
"You told me to try."
Too late to take it back.
Looking behind, the pursuers collapsed one after another.
They tripped, fell, and dragged each other down.
A cloud of yellow dust rose into the air.
No one came through it.
Han Ji-un smiled faintly.
He had the ability to eliminate them.
Yet he chose not to—out of concern for others who might be harmed.