How Far Can You Help Us? (3)

The sight grew more overwhelming the longer they stared.

They had been to many places and seen much, but none had ever witnessed anything as huge and majestic as Beijing’s city wall.

“…Amazing.”

“How could people build something like that?”

“Where did they get all the stones that went into that?”

“You idiot. That’s an earthen rampart. They piled up earth and faced it with fired bricks.”

“Then where did they get all that earth?”

“…Good question.”

Not joking—building a wall that size would make you think they’d shaved down a whole mountain.

“It’s impressive…”

“It’s enormous…”

“It’s so tall…”

Chung Myung clicked his tongue as he watched the Mount Hua disciples, uniformly overwhelmed by Beijing’s wall.

“You country bumpkins. First time in the capital?”

“Have you been here before?”

“Of course it’s my first time.”

“…”

No point in saying more.

“Let’s get in for now. We didn’t come this far just to gawk at the wall.”

“Yes, sasuk.”

Just as everyone began moving toward the city gate at Baek Cheon’s words, it happened.

“Wait!”

Suddenly Jwa Go-Hak stretched out his arm and stopped them.

“Why?”

“You aren’t seriously going to go into the capital like this, are you?”

“…Actually, yes?”

“Are you out of your minds? Have you forgotten why we specifically hired you?”

Baek Cheon frowned as if to ask what on earth he was talking about.

“Don’t act like we could forget. You were hired because you can’t be noticed—so you grabbed our trouser legs, didn’t you?”

“Exactly. You remember well. So you must also understand we need to avoid arousing suspicion as much as possible.”

“…Huh?”

“If you storm into the capital like this, what do you think people will say?”

The Mount Hua disciples glanced at one another.

Let’s see. Five Taoists, one monk, one Confucian student, and… even a kid tagged along.

“Is this the sign of the world coming to an end?”

“Is today the day that decides the fate of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Taoism?”

“Why three specifically? That sounds rude to the Taoists. Call it Tao-Confucianism-Buddhism instead.”

“What’s the difference…”

It was undeniable. That combination looked strange to anyone. Not just strange—grotesque.

A group of Taoists, a monk, a student, and a child walking together—honestly, it was a small miracle they hadn’t run into trouble traveling like that.

No matter how busy the capital was, where people rarely stared, it would be impossible not to attract attention with that lineup.

“No good.”

“We need to find a way.”

The Mount Hua disciples put their heads together and began to worry.

“How about making them look like the same type?”

“Nine monks would certainly sparkle…”

“What about Taoists?”

“Wow, nine Taoists passing by. I’ve never seen so many Taoists in my life.”

“…Then let’s make them students.”

“Oh? Look, nine young scholars. But none of them look familiar—heehee. Suspicious, isn’t it?”

“So what!”

Jwa Go-Hak shook his head.

“So we need to disguise ourselves in the least conspicuous way for entering the capital.”

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly as we are.”

“Huh?”

Jwa Go-Hak gave a small smile.

“Country bumpkins seeing the capital for the first time, amazed by everything.”

“…”

“No acting necessary. Come on, let’s begin.”

“…”

---

“…This is so awkward.”

Yoon Jong looked sourly at the clothes he wore.

Having mostly worn Mount Hua’s uniform, the unfamiliar feel and colors of these outfits made him feel oddly out of place.

“They suit you fine, though.”

Yoon Jong narrowed his eyes when Jo Gul spoke.

“Hmm.”

“What’s wrong?”

“…Nothing.”

At times like this it was obvious he was the son of a rich house. It wasn’t that the clothes didn’t suit him, but there was a strangely awkward air—like dressing a pig in silk.

Jo Gul, at least, was passable. Not so odd that passing people would stare.

“Oh, really. Do we have to go this far?”

At that moment Chung Myung emerged from the bushes, newly changed, ambling out. Yoon Jong and Jo Gul smiled broadly.

“Perfect fit.”

“At this point, the Mount Hua uniform would look stranger.”

“…Is it because I’m from a poor family?”

“You brats.”

Chung Myung glared, but the two just smiled and gave thumbs-up.

“Is this enough?”

“Mm.”

At the successive sounds of movement, the three who had gone out first turned their heads.

And then.

“Puuuuuuuuff!”

“Kuhk. Guhhheheuuuuk!”

“I’m dying. This is really killing me. My, my stomach…”

At the sight of Baek Cheon and Hae Yeon stumbling out of the bushes, the three couldn’t help clutching their stomachs and doubling over.

“This is impossible.”

The clothes Jwa Go-Hak had prepared were coarse linen garments common among Central Plains commoners. But Baek Cheon’s face rejected those humble linen shirts. Exaggerating slightly, it looked like a noble face pasted onto peasant clothes.

“To anyone’s eyes he looks like a nobleman playing dress-up.”

“His face is so handsome that shabby clothes don’t suit him—what a case.”

“But if we’re judging by mismatches…”

“Wouldn’t this side be worse?”

“Indeed…”

Everyone’s gaze turned to the side.

There stood Hae Yeon, soft and immaculate, clad in hemp.

“…It’s like draping coarse linen on a young Buddha.”

“Her pale skin makes it even weirder.”

“She really can’t do this.”

The mismatch between Baek Cheon and Hae Yeon and their outfits was unbearable to look at. So much so that Tang Soso and Yu Yiseol—wearing plain clothes and trying for a modest womanly air—looked relatively normal.

“What should we do?”

“Should we leave them behind…?”

As everyone fretted, Chung Myung spoke nonchalantly.

“Why are you worrying so much?”

“How could we not be? The clothes clash so badly. We should find something else, but nothing comes to mind…”

“It’s not that.”

“Huh?”

Chung Myung shrugged.

“If the face and clothes don’t match, why are you only thinking about changing the clothes?”

“…Huh?”

Chung Myung nodded toward Baek Cheon’s face.

“Just ruin that face a bit and it’ll be fine.”

“Oho.”

“Wow…”

“That’s it.”

At those words, smiles spread across the Mount Hua disciples’ faces.

Startled by their oddly gleaming looks, Baek Cheon and Hae Yeon took a step back.

“W-what are you going to do?”

“Honestly, everyone wanted to try it at least once.”

“Right. I didn’t even know I wanted to do this.”

“Now now, stay still. It’ll be over soon.”

Fear washed over Baek Cheon and Hae Yeon’s faces.

---

“…It’s splendid.”

“It’s incredibly lively too.”

“Not just lively—feels like we’ll be crushed by the crowds.”

Their first impressions upon entering the city were threefold: big, busy, clean.

And for the Mount Hua disciples, the most striking of those was, unsurprisingly, busy.

“Move it! Why are you blocking the way?”

“Hey! Stop gawking and get out of the way!”

What kind of place was Mount Hua, after all?

It was, literally, a pure sanctuary—hardly a place open to the world. Moreover, since Mount Hua had fallen on hard times, a space that would have comfortably fit a thousand was now shared by only about a hundred.

What that meant was the Mount Hua disciples had little immunity to crowded, bustling situations.

“Sago—oh, no. unnie, are you okay?”

“My stomach… doesn’t feel good.”

“Oh dear.”

Jo Gul watched the scene and frowned as if he’d seen something he shouldn’t have.

“Wait, unnie? I’m older than you… Aaaah!”

Jo Gul, kicked in the shin, let out a high-pitched scream and jumped up.

“Be quiet. But you can’t treat Sago like a younger sister. Or should I call you aunt?”

“…That might be even worse.”

“Hey, don’t block the road—move! Where did these country hicks come from, making busy people lose their temper? Want to get scolded?”

“S-sorry.”

Leading the group to the side of the road, Yoon Jong shook his head in disbelief.

“People from Beijing sure are harsh.”

“They’re just busy. People in bustling places are the most impatient.”

“I don’t know what’s what, but I know it’s crowded.”

Jwa Go-Hak nodded repeatedly at those words.

“…What are you so pleased about?”

“Ah. It’s nothing. I just thought we picked our people well. Ha. Genuine acting needs no practice, does it?”

…This jerk. He’s calling us country bumpkins?

“What are you saying. Xi’an’s a big city too, you know.”

“But Mount Hua isn’t Xi’an. Hwa-Um village is a village, true.”

“W-we’re from Chengdu!”

“…Isn’t Chengdu in Sichuan usually considered the countryside too?”

“Huh?”

The purebred countryfolk flushed in indignation.

“Still…it’s fun. We’re getting to see Beijing.”

“True. It’s hectic, but there are so many ornate buildings we’ve never seen.”

“But I don’t think that’s the only reason it’s fun.”

At that, everyone’s gaze turned to the two who were standing quietly.

“…Bruz mlurg.”

“Kuhh. Perfect.”

“Anyone can see they’re bandits.”

“Stopping by Green Forest turned out to be helpful like this.”

Bandit. No, as a wild-man disguise, a clear tear gathered at the corner of Baek Cheon’s eye.

The silky hair he secretly took pride in had been plastered with mud and mashed down; his smooth skin was blackened with smeared dirt; even the stubble glued to his face formed a beard that stuck out like pig bristles along his nose and chin.

“In the end, people are all about their faces.”

“Exactly. Even if he had his tunic off, he’d still give off a soft, pampered vibe.”

“Delicate, for sure.”

“Anyway. Look at those arms now. He could beat a cow to death with his bare hands.”

“…Gmurfgr. Damn bastard.”

But while Baek Cheon’s situation was pitiable, it wasn’t the worst.

The worst was standing beside him.

“Th-that… uh, never mind.”

“…Amitabha.”

“Oh ho. You can’t ignore a donor’s gaze, monk. Ah, no—Hye-Ryong.”

“But…everything’s fine, why Hye-Ryong?”

“Then Yeon-Ryong?”

“That’s not the point—why does the name have to end with ‘Ryong’?!”

“We usually tack ‘Ryong’ onto the names of simpletons. Like Geum-Ryong or Dong-Ryong.”

“…Really going to kill us. Seriously.”

Tears welled faintly at the corner of Hae Yeon’s eyes.

“But really, can one wig change a person so much?”

“Isn’t it strange? I never thought someone could look better bald.”

“So what. Good enough to pass as a local bumpkin.”

“…Haven’t you Taoists considered that if a wig looks odd, maybe the wig itself is odd?”

“Uh-huh.”

“No.”

“Not really.”

“…You lot.”

“Didn’t Hye-Ryong just swear?”

“Nah, no way. You must have misheard.”

Everyone looked at the two with satisfied expressions. Making someone look cool is difficult, but Mount Hua’s disciples had proven how quickly they could ruin a proud person.

“Um…”

Baek Cheon ground his teeth and said, “We’re not here to sightsee. Let’s accomplish our purpose quickly and get out.”

“We could take it a bit slower… Ack! Aaah! I was wrong… Aaaah!”

In the end, as Jo Gul was dragged off by Baek Cheon into a back alley, Yoon Jong watched and let out a resigned sigh.

“He always has to say one more thing and then gets beaten.”

“Exactly.”

He invited the beating—he just earned it.