The Mending Studio - Chapter 4

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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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Chapter 4
Yuk Musang glanced around.
They had put some distance between themselves and the Jangcheong Antique Shop.
Only then did he lower his voice.

“Samae. Listen carefully to what I’m about to tell you.”

Even Samae, normally playful, fell silent at the sight of his expression.

“Those two hairpins you bought.”
“Yes?”
“Never throw them away carelessly or give them to anyone.”
“Why?”
“They could be your stroke of luck.”
“These hairpins?”

Samae peered at the hairpins with an expression of disbelief. They were pretty, certainly.
But no matter how she looked at them, they were just wooden hairpins.
Yuk Musang smiled ruefully and gently patted her head.
He too had seen them as merely exquisite trinkets at first. But when he recalled how the Spiritual Rule had opened of its own accord in the shop and how his Spiritual Power had flowed through him, he couldn’t dismiss them as ordinary.
Moreover, even the most mundane-looking objects in that shop carried a certain resonance.
All the more so if they bore the direct touch of that proprietor.
He couldn’t yet discern what secret lay hidden in the hairpins, and precisely for that reason, they had to be handled with utmost care.

“You don’t need to understand now. Just keep them safe.”

Before Samae could press further, Yuk Musang continued.

“And one more thing.”
“What is it?”
“I just broke through to the sixth level of the Geumwon Geomgyeong.”

Samae’s footsteps stopped dead.

“…What?”
“Inside the antique shop.”
“But you said you were on the verge of a breakthrough earlier.”
“I was.”
“Already?”

Yuk Musang nodded. Samae’s jaw dropped slowly.

“Because of that painting?”
“Yes.”
“Then the proprietor must be…”

Without thinking, Samae turned to glance back toward the Jangcheong Antique Shop.
Yuk Musang quickly seized her arm.

“Don’t stare at him.”
“Why, why not?”

Yuk Musang paused, choosing his words carefully, then spoke in a voice barely above a whisper.

“That man is not an ordinary shopkeeper.”

Samae’s eyes widened.

“An Immortal Being?”

Yuk Musang didn’t answer at once. What he had witnessed couldn’t be explained away in a single word—Immortal Being.
Just five characters on the signboard had shaken his Sword Heart, and a single painting had torn open the blocked threshold of the Geumwon Geomgyeong all at once. Yet this person sat in a small shop, accepting a handful of coins in exchange for goods.

“You don’t need to understand it now. Once your cultivation rank rises higher, you’ll grasp how extraordinary what you saw today truly was.”

Samae touched the wooden hairpin tucked in her garment.

“Then this hairpin really could be a stroke of luck?”
“That’s why I told you to keep it safe.”

Yuk Musang glanced back toward the Jangcheong Antique Shop once more, then spoke very softly.

“That person… is not someone we can measure.”

Samae asked nothing more. The hairpin, which moments before had been nothing but a pretty ornament, suddenly felt weighted with different significance. She tucked it deeper into her garment without delay.
The two of them walked in silence toward the Town Square.
Even after leaving the Jangcheong Antique Shop, young Samae turned to look back several times.

“Yuk Musang.”
“What?”
“I still don’t quite understand.”
“Understand what?”
“The shopkeeper didn’t seem like such an extraordinary person. Not really.”

Yuk Musang stopped walking.
Samae quickly added to her words.

“I’m not saying I don’t trust what you told me. It’s just… he seemed so ordinary to look at. No spiritual aura at all, and I couldn’t sense any dharma power either.”
“That’s exactly why it’s frightening.”

Yuk Musang’s reply was firm.

“I’ve reached the Geumdan Gyeong, yet I couldn’t read anything from him. But when I saw a single painting written in his hand, I broke through to the sixth layer of the Geumwon Geomgyeong.”

Samae fell silent.

“Do you think your master could write such a painting?”
“…No.”
“What about the Saintly Ruler?”

This time, the answer came even slower.

“I’m not certain.”

Yuk Musang, unable to fathom the precise depth himself, merely smiled faintly and decided not to press further based on that answer alone.
Yet the simple fact remained: a single signboard bearing the essence of the sword had nearly cost him his Sword Heart despite his Geumdan Gyeong cultivation, and a single painting had torn wide open the cultivation method that had been sealed within him.
To even question whether such a being was “extraordinary” was absurd.

“When your rank grows higher someday, you’ll understand what I mean today. For now, just look after that hairpin.”
“Yes.”

This time Samae nodded readily, and the two of them turned back toward the Town Square.
At that moment.
The Jangcheong Antique Shop held no customers.
Yeop Jangcheong stared at six coins for a long time before finally closing the shop door.

“That’s enough. Let’s close up for the day.”

This morning, the students had all vanished. The customer he’d held out hope for from the Taehyeon Saintly Ground had bought a single painting and two hairpins, leaving only six coins behind.
One way or another, it had been a peculiarly dispiriting day.
He’d been thinking about having tea, but changed his mind.

“This calls for wine.”

He grabbed one of the liquor bottles he’d made himself and headed for Soji Town’s only tavern.
As he arrived at the tavern entrance, a portly man named Wi came bounding out, hitching up his robes.

“Master Yeop! You’ve come!”
“Business thriving today?”
“Thriving indeed. There’s been good fortune in the village, after all.”

Wi’s face was flushed with excitement, and Yeop Jangcheong took his usual seat.

“The children have all left?”
“Gone. All of them.”

Wi dropped into the seat across from him.

“Do you know what those immortal beings said? Our Wi Choonghyeon—that’s what we’re calling him now instead of his old name—anyway, all the children are born with natural talent. They’ll grow into great people, they said.”

His face never lost its smile as he spoke. Yeop Jangcheong smiled along with him.

“That’s wonderful.”

There was a faint hollowness in one corner of his heart.
The children who used to sit in the study hall reading every morning had all departed overnight, but it was far better for them than having to turn back from the gate like himself, lacking a Spiritual Root.

“Today’s on me—eat whatever you’d like.”

Wi spoke with generous warmth.

“Are you certain?”
“Of course. You gave our boy his name, after all.”

Yeop Jangcheong didn’t decline.

“Then please, the usual for me.”
“Done! Soi! The usual!”

Wi called toward the back, and shortly after, wine and appetizers were laid out.
After several rounds of wine, Wi’s tongue loosened.

“You know, Master Yeop, you really are different—a learned man shows it.”
“What do you mean all of a sudden?”
“The children’s names, I mean. When those immortal beings heard them, their eyes went wide.”

Wi slapped his knee.

“Especially our boy. Wi Choonghyeon! The name’s so splendid that those immortal beings froze the moment they heard it!”
“…Was that so?”

Yeop Jangcheong, gazing down at his cup, felt his mouth twist wryly at the thought that of all names, it had to be Wi Choonghyeon.
Of course, Wi couldn’t possibly know whose name that had belonged to in some dynasty of a previous age.

‘Should I tell him?’

Yeop Jangcheong pondered for a moment, then gave up. There was nothing good to come from explaining it, and the moment he said he’d named his son after a palace eunuch, Wi might very well grab a kitchen knife and come after him.
Not that the man had been entirely insignificant, though. He’d held the power of an era in one hand and influenced the very fate of the imperial throne itself.

‘He was a great man, regardless.’

He decided not to dwell on whether it was a good omen or a bad one.

“A fine name indeed.”

Yeop Jangcheong lifted his cup with perfect composure.

“Isn’t it?”

Wi Choonghyeon’s smile widened with satisfaction.
They drank for nearly an hour.
When Yeop Jangcheong rose from his seat, pleasantly warmed by wine, Wi Choonghyeon filled a liquor bottle to the brim with Qingyi Wine.

“Take this with you and enjoy it.”
“I’m leaving with quite the haul today.”
“It’s a cause for celebration—this much is nothing.”

Yeop Jangcheong was just reaching for the bottle to take his leave when—

“Yeop!”

A gruff voice rang out from behind.

“Isn’t this black dog the one you were searching for all last year?”

At the mention of the black dog, Yeop Jangcheong’s body went rigid.
The wine’s haze cleared from his mind in an instant, and he spun around.
A sturdy middle-aged man stood holding a thick iron chain. The man gripping the chain was Jang Yeop Ho, and beside him was an enormous black dog.
The massive black beast held its body low.

“…Heuk Hwang?”

Yeop Jangcheong called out the name without thinking.
Memory pulled him back five years.
It was the day he had received what amounted to a death sentence at the Taehyeon Saintly Ground’s Spiritual Root examination—the day he was deemed beyond salvation as an aspirant to immortality.
On the way back, lost in despair, he had found a small black puppy.
It was small enough to fit in the palm of his hand.
The young Heuk Hwang had been extraordinarily timid.
At any loud sound, it would tuck its tail and hide behind Yeop Jangcheong’s ankles.
Yeop Jangcheong had brought the puppy home and raised it. In those days, newly cast into a strange world with no one he knew, he and the small creature had literally depended on each other to survive.
He had given it a name befitting something grander than its appearance, and that name was Heuk Hwang.
It was an imposingly grand name for a puppy small enough to rest in a palm, but at the time, Yeop Jangcheong had been quite pleased with it.
Then, a year ago, the creature had vanished without warning.
He’d woken one morning to find Heuk Hwang simply gone.
There was no knowing where it had gone or what had happened. When the creature that had always been by his side disappeared without a trace, Yeop Jangcheong’s heart had sunk for a long time afterward.
This world was full of demons and savage beasts. Dark thoughts had crossed his mind at times, but there had been no way to know the truth, and so a year had passed.
As he looked at the black dog again, uncertain whether this was truly Heuk Hwang returned, he saw that it bore almost no resemblance to the puppy he’d once cradled in his arms.
Beneath lustrous black fur lay muscles as taut and powerful as a leopard’s, and between its parted jaws gleamed white, razor-sharp fangs. With its crimson tongue lolling out, one would have believed it a savage beast descended from the mountains.
Yet the eyes fixed on Yeop Jangcheong held a strangeness about them—a terrible familiarity. Even as it strained against its leash as if to lunge forward at any moment, moisture gathered in those eyes, and it seemed like a creature that had been separated from its family for years and had just found them again.
Jang Yeop Ho kept a firm grip on the iron chain.
But the black dog’s behavior was peculiar.
From the instant it spotted Yeop Jangcheong, it had frantically tried to lunge forward.
Its eyes blazed with fierce light, and upon closer inspection, tears seemed to glisten there as well.

“Is this the one, Yeop?”

Jang Yeop Ho asked the question, but Yeop Jangcheong found himself unable to answer easily—those eyes were far too familiar.
More than anything, the expression in that gaze was exactly as it had been before.
Only the creature’s body had grown vastly larger.

“Isn’t it?”

Yeop Jangcheong looked down at the black dog.

“Or maybe I’ll catch it today and make dog stew. I’ve got wine to go with it anyway.”

The black dog’s ears shot up.
The creature that had been acting like a beast just moments before suddenly pressed its belly to the ground and let out a whimper.
Whimper, whimper.
The moment its eyes turned pitiful, Yeop Jangcheong’s brows rose.

‘This is unmistakable.’

That swift, abject change in attitude was exactly as it had been before—it was definitely Heuk Hwang. When the black dog shifted its body slightly, a long scar showed along its hind leg.
It matched the spot Yeop Jangcheong remembered.

“That’s right.”

He smiled.

“I raised that one.”

The old man unfastened the chain. Heuk Hwang rushed straight to Yeop Jangcheong and rubbed against him.
With that bulk crashing into him, Yeop Jangcheong was forced back half a step.

“Hey, hey. Enough now.”

His words were chiding, but his hand moved naturally toward Heuk Hwang’s head.
The fur beneath his palm was far coarser and stiffer than before, and his neck and back bore several small scars that hadn’t been there before. Whatever wandering he’d done, it hadn’t been easy.
Heuk Hwang nuzzled deeper into his hand.
Yeop Jangcheong clicked his tongue.

“Where have you been all this time?”

It was a question that couldn’t be answered.
Yet Heuk Hwang whined as if he understood, his tail drooping. Seeing that, Yeop Jangcheong’s reproach melted away entirely.
A year. It had been a year.
That he’d come back alive was blessing enough.
Yeop Jangcheong drew out two silver coins from his purse.

“You’ve done well, old friend. At least take this much…….”
“No, no.”

The old man waved his hand away.

“You drew those designs on my house without taking a penny, didn’t you? How could I accept this?”

That’s what he said.
But his gaze scarcely left the two silver coins.
His fingers twitched ever so slightly.
Yeop Jangcheong didn’t pretend not to notice.
He quickly tucked the coins back into his purse.

“Then I’ll just accept your kind intention.”
“……All right.”

The corners of the old man’s mouth twitched.
His expression was one of having gone to needless trouble.
Yeop Jangcheong suppressed a smile and picked up the liquor bottle.

“Heuk Hwang, let’s go.”

Heuk Hwang followed obediently at his heels.
When Yeop Jangcheong quickened his pace, the beast would speed up to match; when he slowed, Heuk Hwang would wait a few steps ahead. His body had grown, but his behavior hadn’t changed since puppyhood, and Yeop Jangcheong found himself turning back repeatedly, struck by the realization that a full year had truly passed.

“You’ve grown so much.”

Heuk Hwang’s tail wagged.

“But your nature’s still the same.”

This time the tail paused briefly.
Yeop Jangcheong laughed.
The Jangcheong Antique Shop was less than a quarter hour’s walk away.
During that entire stretch, Heuk Hwang had not strayed down a single side path.
Not until the storefront came into view a few hundred paces ahead did he suddenly surge forward.

“Huh? Hey!”

Heuk Hwang bolted past him.
The door to the Jangcheong Antique Shop was unlocked.
In Soji Town, people generally knew one another by sight, and in five years Yeop Jangcheong had never had anything stolen.
With practiced ease, Heuk Hwang nosed the door open.
Creak.
It swung inward.
The creature slipped into the shop as though he’d done it a thousand times.

“So you do remember home.”

Yeop Jangcheong chuckled softly and followed him inside. But the moment he crossed the threshold, he stopped.
Heuk Hwang lay flat on the ground.
His head was turned toward one wall.
His posture was reverent, as though he were bowing before someone.
His tail lay pressed to the floor and his front paws were neatly aligned. This was nothing like the trembling he’d shown outside the tavern moments before at the mention of dog meat.
Yeop Jangcheong stared at him in bewilderment.

“What are you doing?”

Heuk Hwang didn’t budge.
Yeop Jangcheong followed his gaze.
A painting hung on the wall—one he had painted long ago himself.
Four years back, when Heuk Hwang had been a small puppy, he’d drawn it on a whim. Too fond of it to discard, he’d left it hanging in the corner of the shop ever since. And there, lying prostrate before that very painting on his first day back after a year away, was Heuk Hwang.

The Painting of Black Emperor.

Yeop Jangcheong looked between the painting and Heuk Hwang, tilting his head in confusion.

“Surely you’re not doing this because of that?”

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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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