In this way, even though life was mostly the same, there were little moments like these that made it better. But Gyuvin knew Minwoo could only stay for a month before the sect needed him back at the Court, and the days flew by without him really noticing it. Soon there were only a few days left before Minwoo was scheduled to return home, and Gyuvin stuck around him even more than usual, even though there was only a few weeks left of the training camp before the cultivators would all go home to their sects. They would see each other again in the summer of the next year, when the Spirit Beast Hunting Festival commenced.
“Do you think the sect’s doing fine without you there?”
Gyuvin had dragged Minwoo out of his quarters after dinner for a walk around the Peak grounds, claiming he needed to explore some of the areas of the Peak he hadn’t seen before he left for good. They were circling around the outdoor paths snaking around the cultivators’ courtyards; those were the furthest away from the seniors’ quarters, so it made sense that Minwoo had never walked here even by accident.
“Sect Leader Baek has sent me three communication spells since last week asking me when I’ll be back,” Minwoo deadpanned. “What do you think?”
Gyuvin pondered his next words for a long moment before asking them. “Hyung, do you think our sect needs more rules?”
“Hm? Why the sudden question?”
“It’s just that, I thought if the organization back home was really so bad that everyone relies on you to keep everything in order, then maybe some more rules would make it easier for everybody. So they could handle things without asking you all the time.”
“Maybe that would work,” Minwoo answered. “But people wouldn’t be happy about it. When you have too much order, you end up giving up things like freedom and individuality. Sure the sect could mandate that everyone wakes up before sunrise, and tell us clearly who does what at what time and where, and maybe that would make things more organized, but would you really be happy in a place like that? I know I wouldn’t.”
Gyuvin frowned a little. “I never thought about it like that, but I guess you’re right.”
“Besides,” Minwoo continued. “Rules are supposed to function as a structure to better society. But who’s to say one thing is better than the other? For example, I could make a rule that everybody has to spend two hours meditating before breakfast. That would work for some people, but what about the others who’d get sick if they didn’t get to eat? What about those who can’t focus enough to meditate before eating? Then they’d waste two hours of their time doing something they can’t reap the full benefits from, when it could have been better spent on something else. The sect allows its cultivators freedom to make their own choices because we trust that they’ll make the choices that are the best for themselves, and when our cultivators are at their best, the sect will be too.”
“That makes sense…”
“Anyway, as much as it is tiresome sometimes, I don’t really mind doing the work I do,” Minwoo said, catching a falling leaf in midair as he walked. “The sect is my family, and the Court is my home. Serving them is the choice I made. It’s the choice I think is best for me.”
They ended up back at the small bamboo grove near Gyuvin’s courtyard that he and Ricky took turns training at. As they neared, Gyuvin realized the willow sapling he’d noticed sprouting there a month ago had grown exponentially; it was almost the size of a full grown willow tree now, even though it’d only been a little more than a month since the last time he’d paid attention to it. “Hey, this one’s grown fast,” he observed, patting one of its branches gently. “It was just knee height a month ago.”
Minwoo leaned down to examine its boughs. “It looks like the kind we have around the Court,” he said. “Interesting.”
“Really? I thought those were native to Sunshower City. I didn’t think they’d grow naturally so far away.”
“I thought those were native too. Maybe not.”
“Yeah, maybe not.”
They parted ways soon after, Gyuvin heading back to his courtyard to turn in for the night and Minwoo heading back to his quarters to pack up some of his things and finish some paperwork. He was due to leave by carriage in two days. But next morning, as the cultivators rose with the coming of dawn, there was another disturbance at the gates of the Peak. Gyuvin felt a certain sense of deja vu as the noise from the gathered people permeated into his room, but he got dressed and washed up as quickly as possible. It was another one of those seemingly randomly-occurring restless nights; he didn’t remember waking up, but it took him longer than usual to shake the sleep off him, and his spiritual reserves were dwindling again.
There was a little white pot of water he kept at the low table by the door, for him to wash his hands and face at night when he returned. As he reached to open the door to go outside and see what exactly was going on again, something unusual caught his eye for a second, and he looked down, squinting to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.
The water in the pot was stained dark red, like someone had washed their bloodied hands in it just the night before.
The buzz of voices outside his courtyard had gotten louder since he woke up, and at that very moment came a distinct shout, louder than the other voices, that made his heart skip a beat.
“Someone’s been murdered! Come, quick!“
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