The Mending Studio - Chapter 17

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 17
Two elderly men stood behind him.

‘He’s come again.’

Yeop Jang-cheong did the math in his head.
Last time, Yuk Mu-ssang had taken a scroll of calligraphy for three copper coins.
Yuk Mu-ssang wasn’t an unpleasant customer, but it would be awkward if he asked for calligraphy at the same price again.
Back then, thinking him a first-time client, Yeop Jang-cheong had let it pass without much thought—but the more he calculated after returning home, the more it stung. Judging by Yuk Mu-ssang’s reaction, his calligraphy was hardly worthless.
Even by the standards of his previous life, there was no reason to sell his brushwork so cheaply.

“It’s been a while.”

Still, Yeop Jang-cheong smiled and cupped his fist in greeting.

“You’ve brought company today, I see.”

Yuk Mu-ssang gestured toward Jang Hyeon-jin-in.

“This gentleman is an elder of my family. Like me, he’s fond of calligraphy and painting. When he saw the scroll I brought last time, he insisted on coming to visit you himself.”

Jang Hyeon-jin-in was inwardly satisfied with the explanation.
He stepped forward.

“I am called Ha Jang Hyeon. It is an honor to meet you, Master Yeop.”

He had completely set aside his station as patriarch, bowing with the courtesy of a junior addressing a senior. It was an attitude that seemed almost impossible for a man who received the respect of tens of thousands of disciples at the Tae Hyeon Sect.
Yeop Jang-cheong appraised him briefly, from head to toe.
His beard was white and his bearing upright.
Though his robes were modest, the air he carried suggested he was no ordinary elder.

‘He looks like someone who’s spent a long time with fine art.’

Yeop Jang-cheong nodded lightly.

“The pleasure is mine.”

There was no reason to feel anything but warmth toward a man who had come especially to see his calligraphy.
Since Yuk Mu-ssang had purchased that scroll, this was the first time someone had returned to seek him out after viewing it. The old man before him seemed, at the very least, someone who knew how to truly appreciate fine work.
Yeop Jang-cheong had no intention of underselling himself. For five years since coming to this world, he had devoted himself to calligraphy and painting. By now, he felt he had reached a considerable level of mastery.
In that sense, Jang Hyeon-jin-in calling him “Master” was hardly an exaggeration. In matters of calligraphy and painting, he might well be in a position to teach this man something.
At the very least, there was a strong chance this man had a discerning eye.
His gaze shifted to Yu Jang-ha beside him.
In that instant, all the color drained from Yu Jang-ha’s face.
Cold sweat beaded on his brow.
Yeop Jang-cheong raised his eyebrows slightly.

‘Is he unwell?’

The man appeared to be elderly and had evidently wandered outside in the heat for some time—perhaps he had caught a chill.
The fact that he had come all this way despite his obvious discomfort struck Yeop Jang-cheong as earnest devotion to art. There was something touching about such dedication, illness and all.

‘He truly loves calligraphy.’

His earlier wariness dissolved naturally away.
Yuk Mu-ssang opened his mouth.

“Master Yeop, this gentleman is―”
“Master Yeop.”

Yeon Byeong-sim spoke up quickly.
Yuk Mu-ssang’s brow twitched slightly.
He didn’t enjoy having his introduction cut short, but recognizing that Yeon Byeong-sim meant to conceal her imperial status, he held his tongue.
She feared that revealing Yu Jang-ha’s identity would lead to the unraveling of her own. More than that, she herself wasn’t yet ready to leave this place.
There was no reason to invite needless conflict before Yeop Jang-cheong.

“This is an elder from my household. He’s come all this way searching for me.”

Yu Jang-ha, quick to read the moment, bowed respectfully.

“I am called Yu Jang-ha.”

A flicker of disappointment crossed Yeop Jang-cheong’s eyes—brief, unmistakable.

‘Ah, so it’s not him after all.’

This man had not come to view the paintings. He’d come to collect Yeon Byeong-sim.
If so, the matter was simpler than he’d thought.
At last, Yeon Byeong-sim could return home.
Yeop Jang-cheong felt a quiet relief settle over him.
It wasn’t that he disliked her.
The problem was the practicalities. Beyond sweeping, she could neither wash clothes nor cook.
On the other hand, she ate his cooking with such appetite that lately he’d lost sleep on several nights—her stomach growling in the dark hours.
Yet he couldn’t in good conscience send a delicate woman out beyond the dangerous walls of Soji Fortress.
Now that her family elder had come in person, there was nothing left to worry about.

“I see.”

Yeop Jang-cheong’s expression brightened naturally.
At this, Yu Jang-ha tensed anew.
Did he already know that Yu Jang-ha would be taking the princess away—and smile like that anyway?
He couldn’t fathom the man’s meaning.
Yeop Jang-cheong stepped aside from the doorway.

“There’s no need to speak out here. Please, come inside.”
“We appreciate your kindness.”

Yu Jang-ha bowed quickly as well.

“We’ll trouble you only briefly.”

Yuk Mu-ssang and Yeon Byeong-sim filed in after him in turn.
The moment they crossed the threshold into the small rear courtyard—
—Jang Hyeon-jin-in and Yu Jang-ha stopped dead.
The space was modest, its layout suggesting a simple dwelling. Each object at first glance seemed ordinary, the furniture of daily life.
Yet to the two old men’s eyes, nothing appeared ordinary at all.
The higher one’s cultivation, the more clearly a certain strangeness made itself known—one that defied easy explanation. Before they could even examine what made any single thing remarkable, both felt the same intuition strike: this small courtyard was no ordinary home.
A single step through the gate, and the peculiar essence that had lingered faintly outside now pressed in from all sides, overwhelming in its presence.
The two elders’ gazes met almost simultaneously.
And they arrived at the same thought.

‘Is this…… the training hall of Master Yeop?’

Jang Hyeon-jin-in and Yu Jang-ha could scarcely move after stepping into the rear courtyard.
What caught their eyes first was the willow tree standing in the center of the yard.
Its height was roughly a zhang and a half.
On the surface, it differed little from any common willow—save that countless slender blue branches hung long over the courtyard, and between leaf and stem flowed an endless thread of living vitality, fine as silk.
It was not merely vitality.
A faint Dao Essence enveloped the entire tree.
Jang Hyeon-jin-in extended his Spiritual Consciousness with the utmost care.
In that instant, a peculiar sensation seized him.
The willow tree was watching him.
It had no eyes, no mouth, and yet the feeling was unmistakable.
Jang Hyeon-jin-in immediately withdrew his spiritual consciousness.

‘It’s developed spiritual awareness?’

That an ancient tree could gain sentience after eons of growth existed only in legend.
According to records in old texts, such trees—awakened to a spiritual consciousness so profound they bordered on demonic—could be found only in the deepest sacred grounds that had endured for hundreds of thousands of years.
Places where the Reverse Heaven’s Fortuitous Encounters lay dormant, and danger ran equally deep.
Even there, the danger of death coexisted with opportunity itself.
Strongholds of the Fire Divine Scripture who ventured in carelessly did not return.
Yet here, in the Rear Courtyard—a mere modest garden, not some sacred ground—a tree that seemed fit only for legend was growing without the slightest concern.
Jang Hyeon-jin-in and Yu Jang-ha exchanged glances.
Nearly identical wonder rose in both their minds.
How many people in this world could accomplish such a thing so effortlessly?

‘Cultivating something like this as a mere garden tree?’

As his gaze shifted, a small stone table came into view beneath the willow.
Upon it rested an ancient guqin.
The instrument’s body bore intricate patterns carved into it—so natural they seemed woven into the wood grain from the beginning, rather than imposed by deliberate craftsmanship.
Its surface emanated the antique, dusky aura peculiar to objects of great age. Yet what truly captured both men’s attention was the refined Dao Essence hovering between the strings and the body of the instrument.

“The Way of Music…”

Yu Jang-ha murmured without thinking.
What radiated from the guqin was unmistakably the Dao of Rhythm.
Though not a single fingertip had touched the strings, the refined Dao Essence circling above them alone was proof enough that this was no ordinary instrument.
Their sense of awe deepened further still.
Jang Hyeon-jin-in’s eyes grew complex.
Until yesterday, he had believed Yeop Jang-cheong to be someone who had honed the Way of the Sword to its absolute limit.
The Sword Intent embedded in his calligraphy had been so overwhelmingly masterful.
But now he glimpsed how narrow his judgment had been.
It was not merely the sword.

‘I was watching the sky from the bottom of a well.’

He had assumed that because calligraphy contained Sword Intent, the man was a sword master.
But seeing Dao of Rhythm dwelling in the guqin shattered that simple conclusion. If Yeop Jang-cheong was not someone who had perfected a single path but rather a being who wielded multiple Dao at heights they could not fathom, then what words even existed to describe such a state?
Then his gaze caught and held on something atop the stone table.
A Go board.
Jang Hyeon-jin-in’s eyes brightened at once.

‘Just as I thought!’

Gu Geo-jin-in’s conjecture had been correct.
Yeop Jang-cheong played Go.
And almost certainly not merely as a pastime.
Jang Hyeon-jin-in found himself taking several steps toward the board without conscious thought.
Yu Jang-ha followed behind him.
Black and white stones lay arranged across the board.
The moment Jang Hyeon-jin-in gazed upon the game position, his expression transformed abruptly.
This was no ordinary game of Go, measured in territory and points.
Within the clash of black and white stones, the Principles of Yin and Yang flickered like lightning, and Killing and Destruction, the vital breath of life itself, seemed to coil and interweave.
With each move he attempted to count, his consciousness sank deeper into the board.
Jang Hyeon-jin-in felt himself being pulled further into that abyss and wrenched his gaze away by sheer force.

A sharp breath escaped him.

He drew in a long, measured breath.
A thin sheen of perspiration beaded his forehead.

‘Sa Ryong To Su?’

He nearly laughed aloud.
Standing before a board position of this caliber, the Sa Ryong To Su that had tormented him for two centuries seemed no more than a child’s parlor game.
Jang Hyeon-jin-in found himself recalling why Gu Geo-jin-in had asked him to seek out Yeop Jang-cheong. Before even requesting an answer, he felt as though he’d already glimpsed the solution.
This man didn’t merely understand Go.
Beside him, Yu Jang-ha looked worse still.
His face had gone ashen, the veins at his temples standing out sharply.
Cold sweat poured from every inch of his body.

“Elder Yu?”

Yeon Byeong-sim tried to call out to him with concern, but Yu Jang-ha didn’t hear her.
Only after a long moment did he exhale roughly.

“Haa…….”

He turned his gaze from the board and stepped back several paces.

“Between the black and white stones lies not only Yin and Yang, but killing and destruction, the very principles of life itself…….”

He caught himself and fell silent.
Did he dare presume to judge that board position?
The words he’d just spoken—Yin and Yang, slaughter, life—were likely only fragments that happened to catch his eye among an immeasurably greater whole.
Yu Jang-ha shook his head.

“No. What do I know to speak such things?”

Jang Hyeon-jin-in looked at him.
Until moments ago, these two had regarded each other with wariness, yet now they shared the same sentiment.
When Yu Jang-ha sighed first, Jang Hyeon-jin-in nodded silently in return. At least for now, this was not the time to measure which faction held greater strength.
What lay in this rear courtyard was not theirs to judge.
Meanwhile, Yuk Mu-ssang and Yeon Byeong-sim gazed elsewhere.
At the scroll spread upon the table: the Tae Hyeon Bright Green Painting.
It resembled what they had seen before, yet it was altogether different.
When Yuk Mu-ssang first beheld this painting, he’d felt as though the contours of Tae Hyeon Mountain had been transplanted in their entirety into a single frame. Yet the image before his eyes now possessed mountain ridges far deeper and mist far more natural than then.
Though the same place had been rendered, the artistic intent expressed felt like an entirely different realm.
This morning, Yeop Jang-cheong had happened upon the Tae Hyeon Bright Green Painting he’d executed years before and sensed that certain passages fell short. Above all, the conceptual realm that bound the whole together seemed painfully absent from his earlier vision.
As it happened, he had nothing pressing to attend to. He unrolled fresh paper and began painting Tae Hyeon Mountain anew.
After moving his brush for nearly an hour, the current Tae Hyeon Bright Green Painting was complete.
Yeop Jang-cheong was quite satisfied with the result. Once he’d corrected what he’d perceived as lacking in the previous work, everything pleased him—the artistic intent, the strength and delicacy of the brushwork alike.
Among all the paintings he’d created since entering this world, this stood among his finest.

‘I was right to paint it again.’

While preparing tea to one side, Yeop Jang-cheong observed Yuk Mu-ssang and Yeon Byeong-sim.
The two stood before the painting, their eyes scarcely wavering from it for some time.
Watching them absorbed in the newly painted Tae Hyeon Bright Green Painting, Yeop Jang-cheong felt his own spirits lift unbidden.

‘At least these two have eyes that see.’

Yeop Jang-cheong felt quite satisfied within himself. The moment Yuk Mu-ssang and Yeon Byeong-sim had glimpsed the new painting, their gaze had been captivated.
It was a response that rewarded the hours he’d spent working all morning.
By contrast, Jang Hyeon-jin-in and Yu Jang-ha had grown strange from the moment they entered the courtyard.
They’d stared long at the willow tree, then turned rigid at the sight of the guqin, and now their faces had gone pale before the Go board.
Yeop Jang-cheong found it difficult to comprehend.

‘Not someone visiting the countryside for the first time.’

Judging by appearances alone, both seemed like refined adults from respectable households.
Yet in the Rear Courtyard, they gazed at every object as if they were seeing a marketplace for the very first time.
They paused before the Spiritual Willow Tree, and wore much the same expression when they stopped at the Guqin and Go Board.

‘Does Yuk Mu-ssang truly love painting and calligraphy as he claimed?’

A flicker of doubt crossed her mind.
Still, she could not show it before guests.
Yuk Mu-ssang was a disciple of the Tae Hyeon Sect.
The family elder Jang Hyeon-jin-in was certainly no ordinary man either.
Yeon Byeong-sim, judging by her dress and manner of speech, was unmistakably from a distinguished family, and Yu Jang-ha, who had come to collect her, was likely of corresponding station.
Yeop Jang-cheong poured water into the teapot.

“You two.”

Jang Hyeon-jin-in and Yu Jang-ha snapped to attention simultaneously.

“Don’t stand on ceremony — please, have some tea.”
“Ah.”

Jang Hyeon-jin-in stepped back from the Go Board first.

“We’ve been imposing on you.”

Yu Jang-ha hurried to offer a formal salute.

“Thank you.”

The two men hesitated a moment before seating themselves with careful deliberation.
Both understood that excessive deference could make a superior uncomfortable—and far more so when that person stood in a realm utterly beyond their reach.
So they sat with tension coiled through their bodies, yet their outward bearing remained as natural as they could manage.
Yeop Jang-cheong tilted her head inwardly even as she withdrew the teacups.
She opened the lid of a small ceramic jar beside her.
With her fingers, she plucked out a few leaves of pale green tea.
In that instant.
The eyes of both Jang Hyeon-jin-in and Yu Jang-ha widened at once.
A crystalline radiance flowed faintly across the tea leaves.
They were not withered or shriveled—each leaf, as verdant and fresh as if just plucked from the branch, was ringed with refined Dao Essence.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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