Just Make It Look Convincing
Sowol froze, staring at Jinseong.
"How did you know? Did that bastard go around blabbing?"
"Reverend Beopgong does not trust many people. Even less so among members of the Alliance."
"……"
"If he had come back from Sichuan, I assumed he would naturally have visited you, senior."
At Jinseong's answer, Sowol scratched his cheek, embarrassed.
He couldn't decide whether being counted among the people Beopgong trusted was a compliment or an insult.
Given that fat monk's interpersonal relationships, it was probably leaning toward the latter.
Sowol gave up on thinking about it. What mattered more was why Jinseong had come all the way out to this backwater village.
If the man had already traced the child to this place, he needed to find out what else the priest knew.
"So. How much did you hear?"
"Only up to the rumor that a ghost had settled into the inn."
Only up to the rumor.
Sowol turned the words over in his mind. Was that truly the limit of what Jinseong had heard — or merely the limit of what he was willing to say?
The words coming out of Jinseong's mouth could be read either way.
"Nonsense, the whole thing."
"I agree entirely."
Jinseong nodded agreeably, then asked again. "Then why is such a rumor spreading?"
"That's…… Baekya played a bit of a prank, and the villagers mistook it for the work of a ghost."
Had Baekya heard this, he would have jumped up and down protesting his innocence — but Sowol decided to fold his conscience away for the moment. After all, the claim that Baekya had pulled a prank was far more believable than a baby with an unsealed Baihui Acupoint using the Space-Grabbing Technique.
Besides, Baekya had no doubt bolted far away the moment Jinseong walked through the inn's door.
Jinseong made no reply, merely toying with his teacup. He had clearly noticed how flimsy Sowol's excuse was, but he showed no interest in pressing the point.
Sowol cleared his throat for no good reason and changed the subject.
"Say — can you write talismans, by any chance?"
"I cannot."
"No need to be that dead certain about it. Can't you even imitate one?"
"Imitating one, I can do."
"Then that's settled. Write a few talismans before you go. I'll put them up on the gate. If they were drawn by a Taoist priest, the villagers will finally relax."
"As you wish."
Sowol nodded and poured the tea. A steaming cup was set down on the table.
"Thank you."
Lifting the cup, Jinseong savored the aroma — then blinked, as if caught off guard.
"Green Spiral Spring, is it?"
"You dug out an expensive tea and now you're acting surprised?"
"I did not expect you to actually serve it to me, senior."
"If you don't want it, hand it back."
"Not at all. It's excellent."
Jinseong replied with perfect composure, took a sip, and set the cup down. His gaze drifted back to the cradle.
"Do you know why Reverend Beopgong smuggled the child out?"
"How would I know what goes on in that lunatic's head?"
"Some time ago, a prisoner gave birth to a child in the Alliance dungeon."
"You mean her?"
"Yes. As for what to do with the child, the Alliance fell into an uproar. Some argued that as the Demon Cult's bloodline, she should be 'dealt with' before she could become a seed of calamity. Others argued she should be kept alive for now, and her usefulness assessed later."
"I see."
Sowol's brow creased.
It was none of his concern how those Alliance lackeys bickered among themselves, but the word dealt with stuck in his throat like a bone. And here he'd thought the righteous sects were somehow different — turns out they weighed human lives on a scale just like the Demon Cult did.
"Reverend Beopgong watched this whole war of words, said nothing, and simply left the room."
"That bastard kept his mouth shut? That's even more suspicious."
"And seven days later, the child was gone."
"Well, of course she was."
Sowol snorted. That monk was never one to sit still.
"That the person who took the child was Reverend Beopgong was beyond question. When the Inspection Division pressed him for the child's whereabouts, all he would say, over and over, was that she was somewhere safe and that we should wait until the time was right."
Listening in silence, Sowol's expression twisted.
"Until the time was right? That deranged son of a — he begged me to take her for one month, and now he expects me to raise a newborn indefinitely?"
"It appears you are raising her very well, though."
"That's not the point, is it?"
Just then, a small whimper drifted up from the cradle.
"Uuueeeeng……"
Sowol rose at once and leaned over the cradle. "That's not a hungry cry. What is it? What's the matter, hm?"
He touched the baby's forehead, slipped a hand inside her swaddling clothes, and clicked his tongue softly.
"She's hot."
Sowol moved the brazier aside and loosened the tightly wrapped swaddle — and only then did the baby's fussing stop.
Jinseong watched Sowol with a peculiar look in his eyes.
"You can tell just from the cry?"
"Try spending three days and nights straight listening to a baby wail. You'll learn whether you like it or not."
"You have suffered greatly."
A faint thread of amusement ran through Jinseong's flattery. Sowol caught the mockery and scrunched up his face.
"Since you came all this way, why don't you take the little brat with you?"
"I cannot do that."
"Why not."
"If I were to take the child, an official transfer record would be created. The moment that happens, she becomes an object of administration for the Murim Alliance."
"……"
"That would not be what you want, senior."
Sowol scowled and scrubbed a hand rough across his face. Jinseong was right.
The moment the child's name went onto a document, her life would be laid bare on paper. Who took her in, where she stayed, what she ate, what signs she showed — everything would be recorded and reported. And if it ever came to light that her Baihui Acupoint was unsealed, or that she had such strange abilities, there would be no peaceful life for her. She might even spend her entire life locked away under the name of the Alliance's protection.
Protection and exploitation, after all, were only a sheet of paper apart.
Sowol's gaze fell on the cradle. The baby was smacking her lips, cheeks flushed pink.
He knew the whole situation perfectly well — and yet he couldn't send her away.
When Sowol said nothing, Jinseong smiled faintly, as if he'd expected exactly this.
"What I have seen here today, I will bury within my own discretion."
"……Can you actually do that?"
"I am not saying I will omit the report. A report is, after all, only as good as the way you write it."
"That's wordplay."
"You may take it that way."
Sowol looked away from the cradle and changed the subject. "Fine, fine. Just write the talismans and go. The villagers are hounding me half to death. Do you just need me to bring out brush, ink, and paper?"
"Cinnabar would be even better. Talisman script ought to be red, if it's to look convincing."
"We don't have anything like that in the inn."
"Then, my own blood—"
As Jinseong moved to bite open his own fingertip, Sowol snatched his hand away in horror.
"I'll go buy some, I said, so stop with that grisly nonsense! I have no intention of displaying your blood in my inn!"
"It was a joke. I carry some with me."
"……"
Sowol fetched the brush, ink, and paper while debating whether to punch this damn Taoist once. Meanwhile, Jinseong calmly spread out the paper and ground the cinnabar to a fine powder.
His hands moved with such impeccable grace that an onlooker might have thought he was writing some great and sacred talisman.
At last, the brush tip touched paper. A red line ran on without a single hesitation.
Watching the immaculate strokes link together, Sowol asked, "What does that mean?"
"Nothing at all."
"……What?"
"As long as it looks convincing, that's enough."
"You'd make a fine living as a con man."
"I already do. In the Alliance, we call this a report."
Sowol laughed in sheer disbelief. "And the head of the Inspection Division is allowed to say such things?"
"Precisely because I'm the head of the Inspection Division. People trust form over truth."
"The world's gone to the dogs, it really has. How did such a straight-laced stick-in-the-mud of a Taoist get so crooked?"
"One might say I learned about reality."
With that answer, Jinseong began his second talisman, then asked, "Do you still have no intention of taking up the sword?"
"What sword? I barely have time to finish my noodles."
"You do not look busy in the slightest. You have no customers."
Sowol's eyebrows knitted. "You've somehow gotten even more insufferable."
"You have always gotten angry whenever someone states facts, senior."
"Shut your mouth."
Sowol snapped irritably. That damn Taoist still had the knack, even after all these years, of getting under people's skin.
Jinseong, his face perfectly placid, drew the last talisman and set down the brush. Then, gathering up the finished talismans, he spoke with careful deliberation.
"Senior. What I can obscure extends only as far as the child's whereabouts. I cannot erase the record that she was born in the dungeon."
"……"
"If the Alliance continues to track her, another inspector may come next time."