12: The great bachelor!

“Senior Han!” greeted the little disciplines once he got up, loudly chirping like it wasn’t six o’clock in the damn morning.

Jisung had promised Minho he’d follow the Lee clan sleeping schedule while on the night-hunt so as to not inconvenience them. He hadn’t promised to enjoy it.

Minho had woken him up at five-thirty, told him to bathe again and then meet the rest of them downstairs. Jisung figured he smelled like a sewer. He felt like it, at least. He wasn’t entirely sure he remembered every detail of last night, but he had the general overview.

He’d gone drinking, gotten a few cups down before getting dragged up by Master Minho, who tucked him in… nice.

Minho didn’t seem very mad today. In fact, he couldn’t remember Minho being mad yesterday, either. That must’ve not been right. Minho didn’t seem like the kind of person who wouldn’t get mad at people who bought liquor with his pure and holy Lee residence money.

Despite this, all the evidence showed the contrary. Minho paid their bill without ever chastising Jisung for his terrible wine-drinking ways. He didn’t even mention how the men had talked shit about cultivators for an hour.

None of the little disciplines were aware about their Senior Han’s wild night. Maybe the slight headache was considered enough of a punishment for Jisung.

When they made their way through Silla town, he was excited about everything. It was like some kind of ancient Korean cosplay event, except it was very real and very cool.

Jisung wanted to stop at every shop, and he kind of did, running around the street from one vendor to another, asking questions, and looking through products with endless interest. It was all artisan work, handcrafted. 

Minho bought him everything he asked; Jisung confirmed Minho surely was a madam. Jisung didn’t know if he was just that rich that it didn’t cross his mind to say no, or if he was so intent on keeping his word that he was prepared to go into bankruptcy over it.

By the time they were out of the town, Jisung’s bag was full of all kinds of great things and his favourite was the perfume pouch or scent pouch.

“But what do you do with a perfume pouch like that, Master Han? Those are for women,” said one of the disciples after seeing him fiddle with it.

Jisung raised his eyebrows, shaking the little prettily embroidered bag at him. “What do you mean ‘for women’? Do I not have a nose? Can I not smell good things?”

“I-- I didn’t mean it like that, Senior,” the disciple immediately bowed. “This one apologises for the offence.”

“Hush, nonsense.” Jisung said to the disciple, before turning to Minho. “Doesn’t it smell good, Minho? Like lotus flowers!”

“Mn,” Minho said.

Pleased, Jisung tied the pouch onto his belt, where it swung gently in rhythm with his steps.

It wasn’t quite adventurous through the woods as he’d first thought. Sure, the nature was pleasant, and the forest must have looked like little magical props for his fantasy adventure. He himself, in his newly acquired black robes, even stood out as the protagonist.

Still, walking through the forest was, in essence, really just walking through the forest.

The Lees weren’t an especially talkative bunch. They silently glided through the trees, while Jisung bounced around them, much like in the Silla town. Sometimes the juniors asked questions, and where Jisung had no answer, Minho would always provide one. It was good teamwork.

By the evening they were still in the middle of a forest, but they’d found a clearing to spend the night at. The little disciplines set up tents and thankfully they all got their own this time.

Jisung didn’t know what he would do if he had to share that close quarters with Minho now that he knew what a tree trunk the guy was hiding under his robes.

Jisung made himself useful by bothering the juniors. Once Minho had taken two little ones with him to find a source of water, Jisung ambushed the rest around the fire.

“So, children,” he said, slouching against a fallen tree like the bad example he was.

He found it hard to believe that these kids were teenagers. They all sat with very straight postures, looking at him like nervous little sheep at a hungry wolf.

“Yes, Senior Han?” asked a brave one.

“I’d love to hear stories about your Master Minho. Surely there are many of those to share around a campfire, right?”

The tense lines of their shoulders loosened a little, so apparently, hero-worship wasn’t against the rules. Jisung had so far copied them only once. He couldn’t recall every single one of them quite yet.

“Master Minho has done many great things.”

“Yes, he fought in the war. Took part in the Sunshot Campaign. He got his name Hagwan back then like that, for always showing up at the tightest situation, turning it into an easy light.”

“I bet.” Jisung said. “He really is that kind of person, isn’t he?  Going around helping people.”

“Yes! Master Minho spoke for releasing the Wjin civilians after the war. Some sects wanted to put all of the Wjin into prison camps, but Master Minho didn’t think it was right,” one of the juniors said, and others nodded.

Jisung had read about that in one of the books, too. Something something evil Wen man something something war something peace. It seemed Minho had actually been a part of that something. Maybe he should brush up on that.

“Yeah. Sect leader Yang especially was for punishing the Wjin. I think Yang Seung-soo talked him into releasing them. He died a little after that, anyway, and new sect leader Yang is more reasonable.”

“He also doesn’t sleep with everything that moves,” someone said, and Jisung let out a surprised burst of laughter.

“Was that gossip I heard?” he teased. Two of the Lees flushed, but one looked only indignant.

“It is not gossip but a fact. Former sect leader Yang was infamous for having children with many women to whom he was not married.”

The third one blushed as well. Jisung whistled. “Oh, that must’ve been a political nightmare. Good thing he kicked the bucket. And so, what, Minho single-handedly saved the civilians? Sounds very much like him.”

A junior nodded. “After the war, he often went around helping. With reconstruction, with cultivation work. He only came back to the Geumgangsan after Master Chan asked him, so he could teach us juniors.”

“Oh, is he a good teacher?” Jisung asked, though he already knew the answer.

All of the juniors nodded keenly. “The very best! He never gets mad, and his critique is very exact. And everyone knows he is the best fighter of Geumgangsan. Maybe of all the sects.”

“But I’ve seen Senior Han fight with Master Minho,” one of them said. “Isn’t Senior Han equal to Master Minho’s skill?”

Jisung’s laughter rang in the air. “He goes easy on me.”

The juniors looked doubtful, so Jisung pushed on. “So, does your Master Minho have a girlfriend? A betrothed? Romance on the horizon?”

This made the kids blush again bright red. They were avoiding his eyes.

“Master Minho likes to keep people at an arm’s length. There has never been, to anyone’s knowledge, anyone he’s been interested in,” a junior said.

“It’s not like he hasn’t got people to pick from,” one muttered.

“He is very handsome.” Jisung said. This made the blushing worse, but the kids were too upright not to nod in agreement.

“And gentlemanly,” Jisung added. The juniors nodded at this as well.

“There have been proposals,” one of the kids said. “But Master Minho always turns them down. It looks like he just really doesn’t want to get married.”

“And he’s the second on the list of sought-after bachelors in the cultivation world!”

“What?” Jisung screeched. “There’s a list? Oh my god!”

At that point, Minho appeared at the opening with his own juniors, eyes immediately on Jisung. Jisung pointed a finger at him.

“Minho! There’s a list! Why didn’t you tell me about the list?”

“What list?”

“Like, the hottest bachelor list! This is the funniest thing I have ever heard!” Jisung giggled just a little, but then stopped, mid-laugh. “No, wait-- did you say second? Minho is second? Who’s the first?”

The juniors looked visibly uncomfortable now that their Master Minho was present, but they could not ignore a direct question from a senior.

One of them cleared their throat. “Um. Master Chan.”

“Eh?” Jisung thought about it, nose scrunched. “I guess. He looks a lot like Minho, but I would’ve put them the other way around.”

Seven pairs of widened eyes were on him, but when he blinked at them, the juniors hastily turned away, six little tomatoes. Only Minho’s eyes stayed on him, an eyebrow tilted.

“Did you find a stream?” Jisung asked.

Minho nodded. “Should go bathe.”

“I’ll go last, then. Will you come with me, Minho?” Jisung batted his lashes exaggeratedly. This didn’t seem to impress the esteemed Master Minho, who gave him a look. “No? But what if I slip and fall, Minho? You would let me die like that? Isn’t that a bit too heartless?”

Minho exhaled slowly, then promptly ignored Jisung altogether as he started to prepare for the night. Jisung knew which fights to pick most of the time. His laughter did echo in the forest for a while all the same.