The Severed Stone Lion
No matter how careful one is, it is impossible to completely conceal what happens within a great household.
As the movements of the Baekryongdae grew sharper, as earth was overturned in the training yard and the plains beyond the manor subtly changed, Jin Musik also sensed that something was amiss.
Iso-gun still had not spoken a word to him.
Partly she had found no proper moment, yet more than that, she believed that ordinary people should be allowed their peace until the very end.
In the meantime, So-un had been spending long hours gathering and reordering what he had learned.
He was not acquiring something new, but refining what was already within him.
At times he simply sat in silence, at times he leafed through his compendium, and at times he moved his body slowly without a sound.
As though linking forms.
As though regulating breath.
As though performing a quiet dance.
It was the first time since So-un had come that Jin Musik pushed open the Winter Moon Gate and entered the small pavilion.
"So-un, are you there?"
With only one maid in attendance, he paused and looked around the pavilion.
Memories flowed in like a tide of regret.
This small pavilion had been built at the great-grandfather's instruction to comfort So-gun, when Mugwang's journeys far from home became frequent.
Though the family code strictly forbade building more than five bays, an exception had been granted to the couple who already possessed five.
Officially it was a detached annex belonging to no one and to all, part of the garden.
Yet to any eye, it was built for So-gun.
A young bride who had scarcely settled in before she was left alone.
At times she followed her husband on his travels, yet he often went beyond the borders, and even that proved difficult.
The pavilion was modest and delicate, suited to a woman's taste, yet in every corner lingered the great-grandfather's affection.
Yet So-gun herself had not remained here long.
Perhaps So-un had dwelled here the longest of all.
"So-un, are you there?"
Since someone now resided within, Jin Musik did not enter unannounced but called again.
A stir came from inside, and So-un ran out in haste.
His steps were light and quick across the wooden floor.
As he waited, Jin Musik idly rested his hand upon the small stone lion standing beside the entrance.
It had seemed to guard the pavilion.
The instant his hand touched it, the lion's head tilted strangely.
"Oh?"
He reflexively withdrew his hand, but it was already too late.
Half of the stone lion's head slid aside, as though precisely cut by a blade, and dropped to the ground.
Thud.
It was not the sound of stone shattering.
There were no fragments scattering, no dust.
The severed surface simply revealed itself and settled apart.
Jin Musik's eyes widened.
The cross-section of the stone was astonishingly smooth.
It shone pale in the sunlight, polished like a mirror.
There was no sign of the stone's grain having splintered—only the trace of a single, clean cut.
"I— I did not do that."
No one had accused him, yet he hurried to defend himself.
At that moment So-un rushed forward and stopped.
"It wasn't me."
They spoke at the same time.
Each denying it in reflex.
From near the hearth at the back, Mirang emerged and bowed.
"Shall I explain? The young master cut it earlier. I merely set it back in place. It was only resting there lightly, so when you touched it, Elder, it fell. Hoho."
For a moment the air seemed to still.
So-un understood at once.
Recently, while linking sword forms, he had drawn his blade in passing.
The lion's head had been there.
His blade must have brushed it as he completed the motion.
He had not even realized it then.
"I apologize. I… cut the lion's head. I did not intend to. It was simply there, and—"
His voice trailed off.
Jin Musik's eyes grew as round as lanterns.
"You… cut this… with a sword?"
So-un clasped his hands and bowed deeply.
"I am sorry."
"I am not scolding you. I am asking how you cut it."
"I was practicing when something occurred to me. I moved my hand without thinking. I should not have done so here… but it happened."
Jin Musik looked again at the severed surface.
It was as though tofu had been sliced.
There was no sign of brute force—only the path of a blade that had passed once, clean and complete.
He knew the lion had been carved from a rare southern stone the great-grandfather had obtained with difficulty.
He spoke lightly, yet his thoughts were not so simple.
This must be concealed.
Reattached somehow.
Repaired.
"Do not trouble your heart over a mere stone."
Though he said so, his gaze lingered.
"Please, come inside."
So-un led him in.
The room had changed greatly from before.
Shelves were filled with books, and on the opposite wall hung swords, bows, and polearms.
The warmth of So-gun's former presence had given way to the atmosphere of discipline.
"Only now have I come to see it. I should have visited sooner."
"It is quite all right. I have lived well, thanks to your consideration."
"Is that so."
"Yes."
"I have been burdened with family affairs and failed to look after you, though you are still young."
"Please do not say such things. I have truly been well."
Yet within the room, like the smooth surface of the severed stone lion, something unspoken remained quietly in the air.
"I came because there is something I wish to ask."
"Please speak."
So-un already knew what he was curious about.
What was happening within the manor… there was no way Jin Musik would fail to notice.
He weighed whether this was the proper moment to speak.
After a brief pause, he opened his mouth.
"Are you planning to wage a war here? It seems something is unfolding that I do not know of. I considered whom I should ask, and in the end I came to you."
Jin Musik looked at So-un straight on.
It was not a question one would ordinarily put to a gentle, young boy, but there was no one else to ask.
So-un's bright eyes grew clear and transparent.