A Bright Flower in the Secluded Mountain

“Thank you, Great Master. Thank you so very much.”

Great Master Won-hyeon silently stroked my hair. He looked deeply pated, as if it broke his heart to see me looking so terrified and offering gratitude when I had done absolutely nothing wrong.

“It will be alright. Everything will be fine. Therefore, do not worry yourself over anything, and simply focus on growing up healthy and strong.”

He spoke again, his voice firm and unyielding, as though he had firmly resolved to block every oncoming storm with his own body.

That year, in the depths of winter, a guest arrived at Great Master Won-hyeon’s secluded quarters.

The person who escorted the guest was none other than the Abbot himself. Had it not been for my unique circumstance—where I frequently turned into a snake and lived completely hidden away to avoid discovery—such an event would have been utterly unimaginable.

“Sorin. Come out and see who I have brought with me.”

The Abbot’s deep voice boomed from the front courtyard. Sitting inside the room, my eyes widened as I looked up at Great Master Won-hyeon.

“The Abbot has arrived, Great Master.”

“Indeed. Let us go outside.”

Great Master Won-hyeon stood up, his interest piqued as to who the Abbot could have possibly brought along.

“…! Brother!”

The moment I stepped outside, I caught sight of Murin standing tensely beside the Abbot. Without a second thought, I practically tumbled forward, running toward him.

“Brother!”

Upon seeing me, Murin also called out my name at the top of his lungs and sprinted forward.

“Sorinaaa!”

“Brother!”

I hadn’t realized just how deeply I had been yearning for him. The sheer joy of the reunion brought tears welling up in my eyes as I threw myself toward him. Murin had always been someone who effortlessly captured the eyes of others from the very first moment, but in the time we had been apart, he had grown into a dazzlingly radiant, beautiful youth.

Though he was only eleven years old, he was tall and maturing so rapidly that he could easily pass for a fourteen-year-old. For a long moment, I could only stare at him, completely entranted.

“Look at you, Sorin. You’ve grown so much! You’ve even put on some healthy weight. I was so worried about you, but seeing you well makes me so relieved.”

He stepped closer, catching my hands in his as his eyes swept over every inch of my face.

“How did you get here, Brother? Did you come alone?”

It certainly appeared that way, but just in case, I peered down the path he had come from as I asked.

“Yes. I tagged along with a merchant escort (Pyo-haeng), and then came up here by myself.”

Like many great powers, the Tang Clan operated various business enterprises to maintain the clan’s vast wealth. Among them was an escort agency (Pyo-guk), which specialized in safely transporting valuable goods—referred to as pyo-mul—away from the clutches of mountain bandits and river pirates.

The escort agency occasionally undertook long-distance journeys far beyond the borders of Sichuan. It seemed Murin had jumped at the chance to tag along the moment he heard an escort caravan was heading near this region. He was still far too young to officially accompany an escort mission.

When he grew older, he would be taught how to manage the family businesses to inherit the clan’s legacy, but right now, his martial arts training should have been his sole priority. I could easily guess that Murin had forced his way onto the caravan just to see me.

Yet, as I looked upon his bright, beaming smile, my heart heavy with an underlying ache. The moment he discovered what I truly was—the moment he realized that my existence posed a mortal threat to his own position as the heir—that beautiful smile would vanish forever. The mere thought of it made my heart plunge into a bottomless abyss.

“I apologize for leaving my lacking younger brother in your care and failing to visit sooner, Great Master. Words cannot express how deeply grateful I am for the boundless benevolence you have bestowed upon him.”

When the young Murin clasped his hands and bowed formally in a martial greeting (Po-gwon), Great Master Won-hyeon nodded, his face softening with affection.

Perhaps the Great Master was harboring the exact same thoughts as me.

Great Master Won-hyeon gazed at Murin with a gentle, benevolent smile plastered across his face. To an outsider, he merely looked like a kindly monk receiving a polite greeting, but I could tell he was meticulously assessing the boy.

Because Murin could very well become the greatest threat to my safety in the future, the Great Master could not afford to fully lower his guard.

“The young master has traveled a vast distance just to see Sorin. To think it has already been two years since you last saw each other—time truly waits for no man. You have grown immensely, Young Master Tang. Have you made steady progress in your martial achievements?”

“This humble junior’s skills are still superficial, and the path ahead remains drastically long.”

Seeing the small Murin speak with such mature gravity was incredibly endearing. If only this innocence could remain unchanged forever.

If only he wouldn’t change… But I knew that was nothing more than an impossible wish.

Fear, anxiety, and profound joy swirled together within me, leaving my emotions so tangled that I could barely decipher what I was feeling.

“You must have missed Sorin terribly, so do not pay this old monk any mind and speak freely. I shall head down to the communal kitchen (Gongyang-gan) to fetch some refreshments.”

“Please remain here, Martial Uncle. I shall go instead.”

To properly entertain the young master of the Sichuan Tang Clan, the Abbot and his Martial Uncle were politely vying to run the errand themselves. There was absolutely no reason for figures of their stature to do so, but they likely felt a deep tenderness for me, who had been pining for my family, and for Murin, who had braved such a distance to find me.

“Are you going to keep your brother standing outside in the cold after he traveled so far, Sorin? Hurry up and take him inside.”

At Great Master Won-hyeon’s urging, I took Murin’s hand and led him into the room. In that short transition, Murin’s expression shifted subtly. The overwhelming, ecstatic joy he had displayed upon first seeing me had withered away, replaced by a dark shadow.

A melancholy air settled over him, and the shift became even more dramatic once we crossed the threshold into the room. As his eyes scanned the sparse interior, he turned to look at me, his face filled with acute distress.

His expression practically screamed, ‘Sorin, have you really been living in a place like this?’

Perhaps he felt a sudden pang of guilt, thinking of how he was living in absolute luxury back at the Sichuan Tang Clan while leaving me in such conditions—even though he had absolutely no reason to feel that way.

Compared to my past life, this room alone was an astronomical upgrade.

“Father donates an immense amount of alms to this temple because of you. For them to make you stay in a place like this… I am truly disappointed. Why would you…”

His voice hitched, overwhelmed by a sudden surge of emotion.

“Are you eating well? Seeing how plump and healthy your cheeks are, it seems they at least feed you properly.”

With those words, Murin gently cupped my cheek.

“My beautiful, precious little brother.”

“If I knew you were coming, Brother, I would have asked you to bring me a bronze mirror. There isn’t a single mirror here.”

As I spoke, his eyes fell upon my drastically shortened sleeves and trousers. It was already heartbreaking enough for him to see me clothed in rough, coarse fabric, but seeing that the garments hadn’t even been properly altered or replaced to match my growth seemed to deeply upset him.

“Hmm?” I prodded, prompting him for an answer.

“What?”

“The bronze mirror.”

“A bronze mirror?”

He hadn’t been fully listening to me, so I repeated myself.

Instantly, Murin’s expression morphed. His face twisted as if the realization that I didn’t even possess a simple mirror was the final straw. Sorrow welled up within him, and it looked as though he might burst into tears at any moment.

“I was just curious about my own face. To see how much I’ve grown. There’s nothing else uncomfortable about living here.”

They were words far too mature for a child my age, but seeing how excessively worried he was, I had no choice but to soothe him.

“Do you have one? A mirror?”

“Ah, wait. Just hold on a moment. I have other things too. You’re going to need all of it.”

Murin made a move to pull every single item out of his travel pack, but then he shook his head, thinking better of it.

“No. Just keep all of it. I only need a single money pouch anyway. Here, take these clothes too. They are far better than what you’re wearing right now. Just roll up the sleeves and the hems of the pants for now. I wish I could alter them to fit you properly, but I don’t know how to sew… Next time I come, I’ll make sure to learn how to tailor. Then, I’ll alter them to fit your body perfectly.”

Because Murin kept fussing over my clothes, the mirror kept getting pushed aside. Ultimately, I had to rummage through his things myself to fish out the bronze mirror and peer into it.

“Wow…”

A genuine, pure exclamation of awe escaped my lips. If this had been my original face, it would have been an incredibly vain and embarrassing reaction, but this face belonged strictly to Tang Sorin, not the old me. Therefore, without a shred of shame, I admired it with objective detachment.

It was so stunningly beautiful that I wondered if it could hold its own against Hyeon-geon’s breathtaking disciple. And…

‘Could it be because I inherited the blood of the Dokgak-hwamang?’

There was a peculiar, almost bewitching aura radiating from the reflection. I hadn’t noticed it at first, but the vibe was distinctly ethereal.

The shape of the eyes was slightly different from Murin’s, casting a mysterious, dreamlike atmosphere. I looked back and forth between my reflection in the mirror and Murin’s face. The two of us looked distinctly similar, yet entirely different.

“What is it? Are you so captivated by how pretty you are that you can’t take your eyes off yourself? If that’s the case, I completely understand. Because I’m the same way. Whenever I look at you, you’re so beautiful that I can’t tear my eyes away. Even when you weren’t there, your face would pop up the moment I closed my eyes… but I shouldn’t think of that old face anymore. There isn’t a single trace of your old, cute self left.”

He chattered away without a single pause. I wanted to ask him to bring a slightly larger mirror next time, but I worried that if I said that, I would look strangely obsessed with my own face.

“Sorin, if there was anything you needed, why didn’t you just go down to the nearby village to buy it, or ask one of the monks descending the mountain?”

I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the truth—that I was strictly forbidden from ever leaving these quarters. If I revealed that to Murin, who was already drowning in pity for me, he would likely burst into a full, uncontrollable sob.

“Brother, when do you have to leave? Can you sleep here with me tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Did you get Father’s permission?”

“Yes…”

His voice lacked confidence. It was obvious he had simply run away on his own.

“Did you just sneak out recklessly? How are you going to handle the aftermath?”

“It’s fine. I got permission from the Escort Leader (Pyo-du). I just have to rendezvous with them before they head back to Sichuan. That won’t be difficult at all. My horsemanship has improved drastically.”

Though he was bigger than me, Murin was still just a young child himself. However, rather than burdening him with more worry, I decided it was best to simply believe in him, and I offered him a wide, bright smile.

I figured that a radiant smile was the greatest gift I could offer to someone who had traveled such a grueling path just to see me.

“I knew you’d handle it well, Brother.”

He repeatedly stroked my hair, pulled me into tight hugs, and cupped my cheeks. Yet, the more affection Murin showered upon me, the more my anxiety grew regarding the inevitable day he would discover my secret. A bittersweet thought crossed my mind—wondering if it would be better for both of our sakes if I started emotionally distancing myself from him right now.