Chương 61: Chapter 58 - Waystation

Cyrus sat up in the slightly-too-soft futon. His back ached. His arms ached. Everything ached. Oh, and since he was the one sitting up in a strange bed again, he was apparently the body in charge! He looked around the room. It was a far cry from the yurt he'd woken up in the last time. Four white walls stretched up to wooden beams just over nine or ten feet above his head.

A small dining set complete with four wooden chairs sat in one corner of the room, abutting a vase filled with pine branches and a painting of a crane. It was faintly musty, with that stale scent you got from being indoors. Drab sunlight broke through a shutter on the right wall, and the pounding sound of rain came from just about everywhere. The wooden floors were covered by a plush red carpet alongside the futon to ensure he didn't step on the cold with his poor toesies.

He'd had enough cold to last him a lifetime.. Cold will kill a cultivator as sure as any Demon. Cyrus shivered, remembering that midnight ride. The last mile had been the hardest. He'd been screaming his heart out encouraging Song, and even switched when the cold got to be too much. That'd been fun. Swapping directly into the body of someone half-dead of hypothermia? No thank you! With trepidation, Cyrus looked down and wiggled his fingers and toes.

Images of frostbite, a serious danger when playing outside in Canadian winters, flashed through his mind. With relief, he wiggled ten fingers and ten toes. Phew! All there! After a quick check that he was alone, Cyrus whispered, "Song? You there buddy?" No answer. He should probably just stay in the room until Song woke up. Or hop into the mindscape and check in on the whippersnapper. Buuuuut…

"Nobody knows you here right? That was the deal? I can come out when it's all strangers? Speak now to stop me or forever hold your peace! I'll give you ten seconds! Teeen, niiine, eiggghhtt, sevensixfivefourthreetwoone!" Rushing through the last of the countdown, Cyrus crawled out of bed. He was dressed in a simple set of linen pants and a white tie-on tunic not unlike a karate gi. It was easy to move around in and light, and faintly medical in nature.

Beside his bed, a small end table had another set of clothes on it, clearly meant for him. A few minutes later, he examined himself in the mirror. The outfit was well-made, without being ostentatious, in that expensive brand feeling. The button-up shirt was bright yellow, with red accents, with a tall neck and the most irritating set of wide oval buttons. A small black coat with gold accents went overtop it. The pants were the same soft brown leather trousers that he'd worn here, and he was glad for it.

Those things were comfy! Finally there were some comfortable silk socks, but no shoes. He gave himself a final check in front of a silver plate set up as a mirror, and slicked his hair back, examining the bags under his eyes. A face that wasn't quite his own stared back, skeleton-like.

"Yech. What a wreck." His stomach grumbled and he gave it a pat.

"Patience, belly. I'll get to you soon enough." So saying, Cyrus ran through a couple excruciating exercises to make sure everything still worked, then ambled out the door.

"A hallway! Well, that's anticlimactic." Cyrus bit his upper lip, considering the long white-walled hall with identical wooden doors that he found himself in.

"I guess this is an inn? Left? I think I hear people talking to the left, so let's go left." Holding his arms behind his head, he strutted down the hall, luxuriating in the feeling of hard wood instead of slick Void qi underfoot. The hallway opened up to a railing over a wide open space. It looked like the inside of a pagoda – three tiers each with their own adjoining hallways.

The architecture was definitely a change from what he'd seen with Song, with jade dragon statues, lots of wood, and paintings and vases instead of tapestries and horse memorabilia. Down below were a bunch of tables, a small crowd, and the delicious smell of Food! It had to be a restaurant, or tavern. Curus wiped at suddenly watering lips. Most of the people seated down below were soldiers wearing what he now recognized as imperial armor.

There were a few civilians scattered here and there, some of them the peddlers from the other day, but he didn't see Nam Gwansoo or anyone else he recognized. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

"Well, here we go," Cyrus slapped his face.

"Be confident. Be Song. Be - lieve in yourself!" So saying, he descended the open stairwell down to the ground floor. As he approached the main gathering area, the creaking of the stairs garnered attention from a few faces. Most ignored him, but a trio of soldiers stood to their feet. One shouted, pointing at Cyrus, "The young hero is awake!" Cyrus blinked. The young what now? And then everybody was looking at him.

Behind the counter, a black-haired middle aged woman wearing a simple red chinese dress and an apron waved at him.

"Young Master Lee! Over here!" Cyrus descended the last few steps sedately, doing his best to look like said 'Young Master' and not a recently recovered invalid. There was scattered clapping throughout the inn when he landed on the final step, and he received not a few back slaps and chest-salutes from the assembled soldiers when he passed by them. It felt like he was walking through the box-gate after winning a game. The cheers, congratulations, and the sheer joyful energy of it was infectious.

He breathed it all in. The last time he'd received similar accolades, it'd felt like stolen valour. But this time he'd actually played a part in it, dammit. He hoped Song was at least a little awake in there, taking this all in. The innkeeper gave Cyrus a wide smile, motioning him towards the counter. Several bottles of wine were stacked on the shelves behind it, and Cyrus felt saliva welling at the thought of something to drink other than airag and mare's milk. First things first though.

"Did Nam Gwansoo return?" He asked. Mae was still the priority, no matter how much his stomach grumbled. The innkeeper gave him a matronly smile, reaching behind the counter and pulling out a scroll tied up with red twine.

"Nam Gwansoo returned yesterday. He checked to make sure you were well, and then left in the evening. He asked me to pass this on to you when you awoke." Gingerly, Cyrus took the scroll and opened it. What met his eyes was a short note in a script he couldn't read. He knew that Song was literate, but he hadn't learned much beyond the numbers and a few basic letters so far. Unfortunately, while muscle memory seemed to pass over, knowledge and mental skills didn't.

He made do with squinting at the paper, then coughing and passing it back.

"I must've hit my head pretty hard falling from my horse – it's all blurry. Do you mind reading it to me?" The innkeeper took it from him with concern in her eyes.

"Do you feel nauseous? Or like you need to throw up? The physician assured me it wasn't anything too serious." Cyrus shook his head, then winced. That hurt!

"No. I don't feel that bad, really. But reading is too much right now." She shrugged and scanned it over once before reading it aloud. Not a few of the soldiers leaned in to hear what was being said, but Cyrus could care less."' Young Master Lee, I hope that this letter finds you fully recovered from your ordeal. First, allow me to express my admiration at the bravery and skill you showed in riding through the night to bring me your message.

Guard Captain Cho notified me that they recovered a total of five grasswolf carcasses, and that is a feat for any refinement cultivator. I'm pleased to say that Miss Mae has made a recovery, and your family will be sending an escort to return you home. In the meantime, please rest and recuperate.'" Cyrus let out a breath of relief. Mae was fine! They'd made it! Huzzah! The innkeeper gave a wide grin as she pulled a small sack out from the counter, which thunked as it hit the table.

She opened the mouth to reveal five shining gold yuanbao.

"Captain Cho left this for you as well. Your reward for killing the grasswolves." Cyrus's eyes widened. He'd never seen so much gold in his entire life! He pocketed the gold bars, trying to avoid the itching feeling on his back. He wasn't going to get robbed, right? Ah well, he could always outrun any bandits on –"Bongbong!" Cyrus immediately felt an icy chill and he jumped to his feet, but nearly collapsed when his abused body protested.

"Guh!" The innkeeper made a shushing gesture.

"Your horse is fine. A damn good sight better than you were, young man! Imagine! Riding out in the cold with that getup." She shook her head.

"You were lucky you didn't lose any fingers! It was touch and go for a while. I know you Nakjin love your horses more than your wives, but have some consideration for yourself. He's happily munching on oats in the back without a care in the world for you, so you concentrate on you." Before he could reply, the innkeeper motioned at the scroll. She cleared her throat with a polite cough.

"There's more. Ahem, 'Your family was unable to meet the required cost for the Oak Heart, but I was willing to take the loss so long as I received a favour from the Nakjo Lee clan in the future. The Patriarch was most amenable when I told him that a favour owed by a clan that raised a raising dragon such as yourself was worth more than any amount of gold. I don't know when our paths will pass in the future, but I look forward to seeing your growth into a true dragon. Sincerely, Nam Gwansoo."

Laying it on there a bit thick, eh? And a favour... That could be good or bad. In a cut-throat world like this, who knew what kind of favours a mysterious peddler like Gwansoo could ask for. Still, who cared? Mae was well, they'd made it alive and in one piece, and they'd even come out a good five gold richer! A successful delivery! End of the Martial Tales of Lee Song-002 The Mysterious Peddler of Chengdu