Henan Jinjiazhuang – Anyang County
News truly seemed to travel without feet.
Good tidings reached Anyang County in Henan, where the Supreme General's main house stood.
Rumor arrived first.
Several days later came the imperial decree (敎旨) sent by the Empress (皇后), now ruling under regency.
The political order had turned completely on its head.
The Anyang magistrate, who had made a prudent choice almost by accident, wore out his shoes traveling back and forth to the Jin estate, arranging what measures were necessary.
The White Dragon Unit (白龍隊) laid down their arms.
Lee Sogun sat within the small pavilion where Sowoon had once stayed, gazing quietly at the pond.
It was the same view the boy had once looked upon.
She wondered what realm he might have grasped while sitting there.
Then she realized, all at once, that she missed him.
A tender ache settled in her chest.
He had been bright, cheerful, and pure.
That such a boy had eliminated the very core of the ruling power—their principal adversary—was difficult to believe.
He had said he would go and settle it.
The outcome reached them first as rumor.
Her ears heard it, yet her heart would not follow.
They called him a master who had reached Hwagyeong (化境).
Was that what such a realm meant?
To transcend the bounds of the human world—was that why it was named Hwagyeong?
"What thoughts occupy you?"
The talkative Mirang stepped to her side.
"I was thinking of Sowoon, that child. What were you doing?"
"There was some dust in the inner room. I was wiping it away."
"So that is why you were not in sight. There is no one using the room. You need not trouble yourself with cleaning it."
"No. I expect he may return today—or tomorrow. So I keep it in order."
Lee Sogun looked at Mirang in silence.
She was a girl of many words and frequent mishaps, yet her heart was upright and bright.
Today, however, a faint loneliness rested upon her face.
An empty place left by someone alters even the countenance of those who remain.
Sowoon had always been immersed in something.
Lost in thought, or constantly in motion.
He had lived most of his time alone.
When duty called, he donned armor and rode straight to the battlefield.
Their time together had never been long.
And yet the space he left behind felt vast.
Lee Sogun spoke quietly.
"You, too, seem to miss him."
Agreement lay within her tone.
I miss him as well—that meaning rested there.
To silently clean a room whose master is absent—
that, too, is a form of longing.
Mirang lowered her head.
When one wishes not to reveal the face, one bows it.
Their silence lingered—
until another figure approached.
It was Jin Mugwang.
Recovered now, he could walk unaided.
Each morning he practiced light forms, tempering his original martial skill.
Strength had returned to his stride.
Resolve shone again in his eyes.
"You were here?"
"Yes, General."
Lee Sogun rose and offered proper courtesy.
Jin Mugwang stood beside her, gazing at the pond.
"Do you miss the boy now?"
The question was brief, yet deep.
Lee Sogun did not answer at once.
She watched the sky reflected upon the water before speaking.
"I miss him… greatly."
She neither concealed nor denied it.
Jin Mugwang smiled faintly.
"He is a remarkable child."
The words carried weight.
"How he managed such a deed…"
He left the sentence unfinished.
It drifted across the pond like a ripple.
Both knew it.
Since the boy departed, the flow of the world had shifted.
For days, Jin Mugwang had repeated the same thought.
When sending him away, he had believed it best to let the boy do as he wished—even if he shattered in the attempt.
He believed that was the right choice.
Yet the boy had accomplished it.
A result beyond expectation.
The realm of Hwagyeong (化境) lay beyond Jin Mugwang's understanding.
The martial path he had honed all his life was forged for war—
to command troops, form battle lines, read the tides of armies.
He was a general of a martial house.
Not of the wandering knightly lineage of the Jianghu.
The world where a single person's attainment could shake the realm—
that was not the ground upon which he had stood.
"General, we took that child in so he might study and grow under our care.
Instead, we have received a greater grace from him.
I do not know how to repay it.
I wish to see him.
To tell him I am grateful… and…"
Her words faltered.
Gratitude alone was insufficient.
The child they believed they were protecting had, in truth, protected them.
What she thought was guardianship had returned as a debt.
Jin Mugwang spoke slowly.
"If you call it a debt, he would dislike that."
His voice was low but firm.
"He did not act to bind us in obligation.
He merely walked his path.
What we offered was not calculation.
What he did was not calculation."
A breeze crossed the pond.
Ripples spread and then stilled.
"If you miss him, then see him.
If you are grateful, then say so.
But if you try to repay him, you only diminish him."