The Paradox of the Red-Headed Hatchling

Now, I finally knew his name. A helpless smile kept threatening to break across my face.

Despite our fateful encounter in my past life, I had never possessed any means of learning his name. Yet here, completely out of the blue, I had crossed paths with him again and discovered it so naturally.

With a look of pure enchantment, I meticulously studied every single line of his features. Gwang-yeon, for his part, found my serpentine eyes entirely fascinating; he leaned his face in incredibly close and smiled endlessly, flashing his white teeth. I couldn’t quite tell whether he was staring at my eyes or my horn.

Whichever it was, considering how microscopic my hatchling head was, the distance between us couldn’t have been more than a hair’s breadth. From this proximity, I could see his light-brown pupils shifting ever so slightly. He had been studying my eyes just a moment ago, but now he seemed to be inspecting my horn.

“Wow, you’re so incredibly cute, Gwang-eum. Don’t go anywhere else. Stay with me. I’ll do whatever you want for you. Should I catch some dragonflies or something for you to eat? Ah… wait. Killing is strictly forbidden in the temple. Do you perhaps eat dragonflies that died of natural causes? You don’t solely eat live things, right?”

He suddenly became quite loquacious. I had never heard him chatter in this manner before. The man I knew from my past life had been older, a person who looked as though he had never once laughed in his entire existence.

His voice back then hadn’t been this youthful, either. Come to think of it, the current Gwang-yeon had not yet even passed through his adolescent vocal break. I already knew exactly how magnificent his voice would become once it deepened, and while that future voice was far superior, I didn’t particularly dislike this youthful cadence either.

“From now on, make sure you follow this Martial Brother (Sajyeong) around closely. Got it?”

‘I really need to head back, though. The Great Master will be worried sick.’

Well… as long as I made it back before nightfall, it would be fine, right? Operating on that reckless logic, I willfully set my mind at ease. Gwang-yeon cradled me with both hands and gently slipped me into his pocket.

“Gwang-yeon. What are you doing crouching down over there?”

The voice of someone calling out to him echoed through the clearing.

“It is nothing, Martial Brother Gwang-jin.”

Gwang-yeon deliberately kept the discovery of my existence a secret. Had an ordinary novice monk found such a bizarre, unique snake, it would have been entirely normal to brag about it to others. The fact that he chose to keep our encounter an absolute secret sent a strange, fluttering thrill through my heart.

Perhaps he had only been taking a brief respite from his training, because Gwang-yeon immediately returned to his fellow disciples and resumed his martial practice. The training grounds (Yeonmu-jang) were vast, and he intentionally positioned himself in a far corner. It was obvious he had chosen the spot purposefully to prevent the others from catching sight of me.

I poked my tiny head out of his pocket and began observing my surroundings. It wasn’t my first time seeing the interior of Shaolin, but viewing it from this perspective felt entirely novel. Years had slipped away since my last visit, and many things had inevitably changed.

‘Wait, am I even allowed to be looking at this? Secretly spying on another sect’s martial arts is the kind of offense that triggers bloody clan wars.’

Concluding that this was a terrible idea, I began to stealthily crawl out of his pocket to make my escape, but before I could make any real distance, Gwang-yeon’s hand swiftly scooped me up.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

he whispered in a tiny, hushed voice. Witnessing the effortless ease with which he instantly closed the distance between us, I was genuinely astonished by his sheer caliber of skill.

Gwang-yeon extended his palm before me, and the moment I slid onto it, he aligned his other forearm against it. He seemed to be indicating that I should climb up his arm. I obliged. At that, a brilliant smirk played across his lips, and he gently stroked my head.

“It’s almost time for the communal meal, but I’ll secretly pack some food and we can eat it back in my quarters.”

Was such a thing even permitted? That had to be a direct violation of monastic regulations. He possessed the face of a strictly disciplined, model monk, but it seemed his actual behavior didn’t quite align with his looks.

But how on earth did Gwang-yeon end up becoming Hyeon-geon’s direct disciple? It would have been infinitely better if he had been taken in by literally anyone else. No matter how much I yearned to be near Gwang-yeon, the fact that he was the golden child under Hyeon-geon’s direct supervision meant I had no choice but to maintain a strict distance.

The absolute second Hyeon-geon caught wind of my existence, I would be plunged into a cataclysmic danger that would make my past tribulations look like child’s play. I could never afford to take such an apocalyptic risk.

‘Then again… considering Hyeon-geon is the Chief of the Discipline Hall and openly discussed as the next Abbot, his political authority must be immense. He naturally would have had top priority when selecting talented disciples. Gwang-yeon’s monstrous talent would have been obvious from an early age, so it’s only natural that figures of high stature vied to claim him.’

As I was lost in these heavy thoughts, his finger suddenly tapped my horn.

“What could a tiny baby snake possibly be brooding over so intensely, Gwang-eum?”

Accompanied by a thoroughly mesmerizing voice, that fatally beautiful face suddenly lunged right into my field of vision.

Seriously, this face is hazardous to a serpent’s heart.

“Even if it’s a bit claustrophobic, stay inside my pocket for now. Do you perhaps eat grass, Gwang-eum?”

Even if I wanted to answer, I couldn’t speak. But come to think of it, what was I supposed to eat? Did I truly have to resort to consuming dragonflies or frogs? I vehemently refused to put such horrors in my mouth. Curiously, however, I didn’t feel the slightest pang of hunger.

I recalled the words of the serpent catchers, who claimed that once a snake consumes a meal, the digestive process takes an incredibly long time, allowing them to survive for weeks or even an entire month without eating anything else. Comforted by the firm resolution that I would absolutely never have to swallow a frog, I slithered deep back into his pocket.

When I poked just the tip of my head out to peer at the world, Gwang-yeon thoughtfully used his wide sleeve to veil me from view. Recognizing my desire to look outside, he didn’t force my head completely back down. From that cozy vantage point, I used every ounce of my wit to take in the sights.

Wherever he walked, Gwang-yeon naturally became the absolute center of attention. Countless martial brothers approached to converse with him, and Gwang-yeon greeted each of them with polite grace. When several monks invited him to join them for the communal meal, Gwang-yeon elegantly declined their offers, swiftly packed a portion of food, and slipped away from the crowd. Since I had no inkling of what his private living quarters looked like, my heart swelled with anticipation.

The place he led me to was a sprawling, wide pavilion that looked like a communal living space for multiple disciples, but at that specific hour, it was completely devoid of life. Gwang-yeon carefully retrieved me from his pocket. Then, he unpacked the various food items he had secured and lined them up directly in front of me.

Only after realizing that I had absolutely no intention of touching the food did he finally begin his own meal. Even as he ate, his eyes remained completely glued to me.

“Where should I keep you? Would it be alright if the other disciples saw you?”

That was an absolute, categorical impossibility. I vigorously shook my head. I did my best to execute a clear head shake, though I had no idea how a gesture performed by a thread-sized serpent actually looked to human eyes. Fortunately, Gwang-yeon seemed to instantly grasp my intense aversion. He smiled and asked,

“You dislike that idea?”

I nodded my head in my own fashion, and a radiant smile broke across his features as he understood. He then proceeded to vanish his meal like a gale sweeping away autumn leaves.

“Should we head back to the training grounds? I’m feeling a bit drowsy, though. Shall we take a quick nap before heading out?”

In truth, it was high time for me to begin my trek back. If I pushed my luck any further, Great Master Won-hyeon would be driven to wits’ end with anxiety, and he might resolve to lock me down completely every single time I transformed in the future. If I didn’t reach a proper compromise today, this single excursion might become my absolute last taste of freedom.

Gwang-yeon must have been thoroughly exhausted from his fierce training regime at the courts; as he gently stroked my head, he drifted off into a deep slumber before I did.

‘Sleep well, Gwang-yeon. If fate permits, we shall see each other again.’

Seizing the window of his deep sleep, I slipped out of the pavilion and slithered forward, focusing solely on the path leading back to Great Master Won-hyeon’s quarters. However, the journey back was far from a peaceful stroll.

Out of nowhere, a stray dog charged at me, snapping its jaws to make me its prey. Then, when I had nearly reached the safety of the perimeter, a massive wild serpent lunged to attack me. To make matters worse, a hawk suddenly swooped down from the heavens, its talons aimed directly at my back. Experiencing such a gauntlet of horrors instantly shattered my naivety. Had I blindly roamed the wilds without a care, I could have easily vanished from this world forever.

I somehow managed to dodge the first two perils, but I would have been completely carried away by the hawk had Great Master Won-hyeon not materialized out of nowhere to save me. I had no idea where he had been tracking me from, but I had never been more ecstatic to see his face in my entire life.

In the chaos of the rescue, the back of his hand had been deeply lacerated. Had he chosen to unleash his internal energy to slaughter the hawk, he could have done so effortlessly. But to adhere to the monastic vow against killing, he had abstained from lethal force, allowing the hawk’s talons to gouge his flesh.

“You little rascal! Stop giving this old man such frights. My heart has been tied in absolute knots waiting for your return.”

Despite his scolding, Great Master Won-hyeon let out a helpless, exasperated chuckle.

“Where on earth have you been roaming? What would you have done if you were discovered by the other monks? What if you had been trapped in some narrow, suffocating crevice and your body suddenly initiated its reversion back to human form? Have you ever considered that? If the space you occupied was too tight and small when you reverted, you might have been crushed to death, trapped forever as a monster!”

His words unveiled a horrific reality I had completely failed to conceptualize. Hearing it laid out so starkly made a cold sweat break across my scales; it truly could have ended in a claustrophobic nightmare. However, my takeaway from the experience was merely that I needed to be infinitely more cautious during my next excursions—not that I should abandon going outside entirely.

I simply needed to learn how to outmaneuver stray dogs, evade serpents larger than myself, and dodge predators from the sky. For now, practicing high-speed slithering within the immediate vicinity of Great Master Won-hyeon’s quarters seemed like the perfect training regimen.

“What did I do to deserve such grueling tribulations in my twilight years because of you, Sorin?”

Despite his complaining, the gentle smile never left Great Master Won-hyeon’s face. He placed me upon his forearm and lightly tapped my horn.

Come to think of it, this horn possessed a rather miraculous effect. Just staring at it seemed to naturally evoke laughter from anyone looking. It was likely because the horn jutted out from my tiny head in such an absurd, contrasting fashion.

I wondered if snails felt this exact same way—the unique sensation of being cherished precisely because of their horns?

From that day forth, I threw myself into intensive slithering practice around the Great Master’s quarters. Recognizing that mastering this physical form was paramount to my sheer survival, I refused to neglect my training for even a single day.

When the hour for meals arrived, Great Master Won-hyeon would look down at me with a wry, amused expression.

“Why are you just standing there instead of setting the table, Sorin?”

‘I would truly love to, Great Master. But I seem to be severely lacking hands right now.’

As I stared back at him with an unblinking, flat gaze, he burst into a hearty laugh once more.

“You were adorable as a human child, Sorin, but you are equally precious as a serpent. Do you know what is truly bizarre? The eyes of your human form and this serpent form bear absolutely no resemblance to each other, yet looking into these snake eyes instantly brings your human face to my mind. And being a serpent, you do not even blink.”

He lifted me up on his forearm, bringing my face close to his eyes to inspect it.

“Your entire head is barely the size of a thumbnail, yet these eyes seem to occupy half of your face. How on earth can a serpent possess eyes so massive and beautiful?”

Confused by his claim, I tilted my tiny head to the side, wondering if my eyes were truly that disproportionate. Witnessing my head tilt, the Great Master let out a booming, unbridled laugh. In all the years I had spent under his roof, that day was undoubtedly the most I had ever seen Great Master Won-hyeon laugh.