#rothms x reader

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the wind was howling through the mountain passes.

though that had nothing to do with the weather... it was because the divine dragon of mount hua was tearing through the dirt trails at a velocity that didn't belong to a human being.

normally, a caravan escort to the southern borders and back took a grueling seven days of steady marching.

it was supposed to be a lesson in patience. a way for the disciples to accustom their bodies to the long path of travel. the sect leader had given a whole moving speech about the cultivation of the mind through endurance building steps to which everyone had nodded along to with varying degrees of feigned solemnity.

though, chung myung had finished the entire thing in four days.

behind him, somewhere around thirty li back down the muddy main road, baek cheon, yu iseol, and tang soso were dragging their souls through the dust.

they were trying to comprehend how a single human being could move that fast without his lungs exploding into a fine mist. they had stopped trying to keep up around day two which was around the same time baek cheon nearly lost his voice.

it had all gone sideways fast.

baek cheon was staggering, his throat coated in dust while clutching his ribs.

"chung myung!" baek cheon wheezed, his voice cracking as he screamed over the roaring wind. "stop! the caravan pace is mandated by the merchant guild! you're going to break the horses! they can't keep up, you crazy bastard...!"

yu iseol's usual composure was melting away under the exhaustion of trying to keep the boy in her line of sight.

her sword grip was trembling, her hair sticking to her damp forehead. "junior... brother... slow... down..."

chung myung had paused for a fraction of a second, landing on a jagged edge overlooking the canyon below. he looked back at his trembling seniors with an unbothered grin.

everyday he was looking more like a mountain goblin.

"sasuk, if your legs are broken, you should've ridden a donkey instead," he shouted down at them, waving dismissively. "if you can't keep up then im leaving."

before baek cheon could even assemble a coherent curse, chung myung had vanished over the ridge, leaving the entire escort squad to curse the heavens and question why they had ever dedicated their lives to martial arts.

baek cheon spent the next three miles screaming at the empty horizon, promising chung myung a brutal murder the moment they got back. (assuming he didn't die of a ruptured spleen first)

the official excuse chung myung had muttered before abandoning them was that he had incredibly urgent sect business requiring his immediate presence back at the main estate.

obviously that was a steaming pile of bullshit.

the real more embarrassing truth was that his tongue was suffering. he simply couldn't take it anymore!

he had spent the last ninety six hours choking down dry, tasteless, and rough travel rations that looked like compressed dirt and oily roadside tavern garbage that tasted like boiled leather. his soul was just screaming for a single bowl of [reader]'s perfectly spiced beef broth, where the red oil glistened on the surface just right and the noodles had that bouncy chewiness.

he needed the taste of her cooking on his tongue and he need it now.

just thinking about her hidden inn made a disgustingly warm pressure bloom right in the center of his chest.

it was an incredibly annoying feeling—a foreign emotion that made him want to punch a hole through a solid brick wall just to prove he was still a hardened martial artist—but today, it was acting like a combustion engine, forcing his legs to pump faster as he cleared three meters of rocky terrain with every stride he takes.

with fire in his eyes, his boots slammed against the stone steps of the mount hua gates.

he didn't pause to catch his breath or smooth down his disheveled hair. with a heavy kick, he sent the wooden gates crashing open with a loud echoing bang, completely ignoring the dozen disciples who leaped into the air out of panic at the sound of his arrival.

several of them dropped their training swords into the dirt and stared at him as if he were a natural disaster.

he sprinted straight across the main courtyard, his black robes fluttering wildly behind him, bypassing the dining hall and training grounds and heading straight for the sect leader's private quarters.

"sect leader!" chung myung barked, slamming his palms flat against the wooden sliding doors and throwing them open without a shred of decorum.

hyun jong, who'd been peacefully sipping medicinal tea and enjoying the silence of a chung-myung-free afternoon, nearly choked on his liquid. his eyes went wide as he stared at the sweating and dirt-streaked youth who appeared in his doorway three full days ahead of schedule.

"ch-chung myung?" hyun jong stammered, setting his shaking teacup down before he spilled it all over himself. "why are you back already? where are the others? where's the caravan?"

"they're very slow," chung myung said flatly, yanking a crumpled and sweat-stained mission scroll from his sleeve before shoving it onto the marble desk. "here's the caravan report, sect leader! the merchants are safe and the gold's accounted for. those idiots—ahem, the bandits along the southern border didn't try anything because they were too busy crying."

hyun jong broke in a cold sweat. "why were crying—nevermind..." he shook his head, dismissing the matter.

you crazy brat... my life is shortening by the day. who... who were you beating up this time?!

he turned to other matters and blinked. he stared at the paperwork as his mind struggled to process how a long week journey had been condensed into an aggressive sprint. "oh. well... wonderful work, my child, but you really didn't need to push yourself so hard."

"not at all, sect leader." chung myung mused, smiling innocently.

his eyes darted around the quiet room as his internal radar swept the perimeter of the sect, his brows then knitted together.

the courtyard was too peaceful. usually the second his boots touched the mountain, he could hear yoon jong and jo gul groaning through their drills. however, today their presence were completely absent from the grounds.

"wait," chung myung said, his voice dropping as suspicion flared up. "where is senior brother yoon jong and senior brother jo gul? why aren't they out there beati—ahem, educating the toddlers into shape? did they sneak off to avoid training?"

"..." hyun jong blinked, offering a gentle smile as he straightened the scroll. they probably sneaked out to escape you!!

"ah, yoon jong and jo gul? since you were away with the caravan, they handled the internal sect chores ahead of schedule yesterday. i noticed they looked incredibly exhausted and stressed lately—poor boys have been looking quite pale, so i told them to take the day off. they went downtown to rest and get some food."

chung myung's left eye twitched slightly. but he dismissed it quickly, waving his hand in the air.

good for them, he thought, a dark sneer passing over his lips. less idiots in my sight while i'm trying to relax. let them go choke on some cheap street dumplings in the market.

very suddenly, his shoulders slumped as if under the weight of ten thousand tons. he let out a weak and raspy cough, pressing a hand against his chest with the fragile delicacy of a dying maiden.

"aah... sect leader..." chung myung whimpered out, his eyes turning glossy as he wobbled on his feet. "i feel... so faint... the journey was so long and harrowing... my inner meridians are screaming in pain, and my internal energy is depleted. i don't even know if i'll survive the night without an undisturbed rest... i feel exhaustedly weak..."

hyun jong stared at him, his cup halfway to his mouth.

he narrowed his eyes slightly, taking in the spectacle of mount hua's most feral disciple currently swaying back and forth like a delicate willow tree in the breeze.

"...i see," hyun jong murmured quietly, letting out a soft breath as a gentle smile spread across his face. there isn't a man in the world mad enough to cross paths with you and leave you injured, you crazy brat!

"well then," the sect leader waves a hand to indulge in the theatrical display. "take all the time you need to recover and replenish your energy, my child."

"thank you, sect leader! your grace is boundless!" chung myung bowed deeply, his frail posture vanishing in a second as he spun on his heel and slammed the doors shut.

the heavy sound of his boots echoed loudly across the courtyard as he stormed right off at top speed.

hyun jong sat in the quiet room, his hand still holding his teacup in mid-air. "..."

he stared at the shut doors for a long moment, blinking slowly. that's certainly a lot of energy for someone who is "exhaustedly weak"...

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the second he cleared the residential walls of the sect, chung myung's entire demeanor transformed as the impatient scowl was now replaced by a childish grin. he slipped past the secret mountain paths, dropping down into the hidden, plum blossom scented valley with a bouncy skip in his step. practically vibrating with every step he took.

with his hands neatly placed on his back, he began to loudly whistle an off key tune into the afternoon air.

pork belly. savory fried tofu. maybe those little steamed dumplings if she's got wrapper dough ready. chung myung began to salivate at the thought.

the wooden roof of the hidden inn finally appeared through the dense cluster of pine trees ahead.

he didn't even consider the concept of manners. he was the divine dragon, and more importantly, he considered this specific tavern to be his sanctuary. he reached the front entrance and didn't bother knocking or slowing down, before violently throwing the heavy wooden doors open with a wide grin plastered across his face, more than ready to loudly announce his grand return to his beloved innkeeper.

"jie—"

the word died instantly in his throat.

the bright, cheerful grin on chung myung's face froze solid, his facial muscles stiffening into a sour expression. his brain completely short-circuited, the off key folk tune cutting off so fast it sounded like a seagull being violently strangled mid-air.

sitting right there, at the dead center in the middle of his sacred food paradise, were yoon jong and jo gul.

and they weren't just sitting there eating. they were disgustingly, nauseatingly all over [reader].

...what are these bastards doing here?

jo gul was hovering near her side, his face a light shade of pink. a clean white rag was gripped tightly in his trembling hands as he frantically wiped down a wooden table pillar that didn't even have a speck of dust on it.

"l-let me get that corner for you, miss [reader]!" jo gul stammered, his voice cracked. "a lady like you shouldn't have to strain her back reaching for the high spots. i've got plenty of energy, really!"

meanwhile, yoon jong was standing right by the counter, his own ears glowing a distinct flush through his hair, leaned forward with an overly earnest expression and carefully holding a small clay of teapot. "really, miss [reader], the hospitality here is... it's truly remarkable," yoon jong uttered with bashfulness. "we're so incredibly grateful to have found such a peaceful place. it's like a hidden paradise."

their eyes glazed over and completely focused on her smile as she stood behind the counter.

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shit. how did i get into another ridiculous situation?

[reader] was internally sweating buckets, her customer service smile propped up by nothing but survival instinct as two large, sword-wielding mount hua disciples aggressively tried to act like helpful gentlemen inside her small tavern.

chung myung stood completely frozen in the doorway, hands still shoved deep in his robes.

he stared at the scene.

he stared at it, for a long time.

he looked at jo gul's stammering face, then at yoon jong's stuttering mouth. he stared at how they were hovering around his innkeeper—the one person in this province who cooked food that didn't taste like garbage, the one person he had just run across mountains in four days to see.

what the hell are they doing here. why are they touching my tables. why are they saying her name so casually.

slowly, the cheerful puppy dog aura that had been radiating off chung myung evaporated into thin air. the temperature inside the small tavern plummeted into a suffocating abyss. a thick murderous pressure began bleeding out from his frame, rolling across the floorboards.

the faint and pleasant scent of plum blossoms in the air instantly turned sour like vinegar.

chung myung's left eye twitched. his face turned pale as his gaze locked onto the backs of his two completely oblivious sasuks.

neither yoon jong nor jo gul noticed the figure standing at the open threshold. they were far too caught up in their own pink tinted world, leaning across the wooden surface and offering their most charming smiles to the inn keeper.

​crack.

​a sharp sound splintered through the quiet room.

​"hm?" jo gul blinked as his wiping motion freezed mid air.

​"what was that?" yoon jong murmured, turning his head toward the front entrance with a frown.

​standing dead center at the doorway was chung myung. he hadn't said a word, nor had he taken a single step into the tavern. his face was shadowed, but his hands—pale, calloused, and trembling were buried deep into the thick cedar doorframe. he was gripping the heavy wood with so much subconscious force that spiderweb fractures were spiraling outward from under his fingers, small splinters of fine wood popping off into the air with brittle noises.

​he didn't even realize he was doing it. he was just staring at them with his chest rising and falling in slow and heavy breaths.

​"ch, chung...?" jo gul squeaked out. "haha, how... how is he..."

​how is he back already...?! yoon jong's brain screamed in horror. if my calculations are right, he still should've been stuck with that caravan for another week and three days..!

"this... this is.." yoon jong sweated so hard he was practically drowning in his own heavy sect robes.

chung myung walked into the room with his hands tucked loosely behind his back, eyes completely devoid of any light whatsoever. he dragged his boots slowly across the floor, the sound of the leather scraping against wood carrying through the silence. he pulled up a heavy wooden chair right between his two stiffened sasuks and smiled at them.

"sasuks," chung myung purred. "i thought the sect leader said you two were downtown eating street food? what exactly is this place? and... why are you calling her miss [reader] so sweetly, hm?"

their brains scrambled wildly, trying to piece together some kind of fake story about how they hadjust stumbled into the valley by accident.

why is he so pissed..!

does he own this place?

are we going to get murdered over a bowl of noodles?!

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seeing her two most polite customers in such a terrifying predicament, [reader] decided she needed to step in before her tavern became a crime scene. with a swift and practiced movement, she glided out from behind the counter and placed a generously heaped bowl of premium fried pork belly right in front of chung myung's face.

the rich, savory smell of caramelized fat and soy hit his nose.

his murderous aura vanished for a split second as chung myung's mouth watered instantly.

without another word, he grabbed a pair of wooden chopsticks and dug in like a feral animal, completely ignoring the two boys for a minute while he made up for four days of food withdrawal.

while chung myung was aggressively stuffing his face, he suddenly looked up at them with his mouth completely full, and pointed a grease stained chopstick at them.

"what were you doing here," he mumbled around a massive piece of pork. it was phrased as a question—it did not land as one.

the two began sweating even more profusely, shoulders hunching inward.

"we... we just happened to stumble upon this place when we were out doing some extra sect chores!" yoon jong stammered.

jo gul nodded violently. "yeah, yeah! what's so bad about eating in here anyway—"

chung myung sent a silent look at them.

cold shivers shot straight down both their spines. were they about to get demolished just for eating this lovely woman's cooking?

jo gul glanced down at the remnants of his meal, imaginary crocodile tears run down his cheeks. it was worth it. i can still taste the meat on my tongue.

chung myung stared at them for thirty seconds without blinking before he moved his hand again, and both senior disciples flinched violently—they thought he was about to swing his fist straight through their teeth. turns out he was just motioning them closer to the table.

"w-what?" yoon jong muttered, sending jo gul a look of terror. are we gonna get beaten up? again?! we were just eating, what the hell was so bad about that!

he cursed chung myung—in his head—obviously. he couldn't really do that freely in actuality as the gap in strength was too great.

reluctantly, the two sasuks shuffled closer to chung myung's table, where he was mindlessly shoving another throatful of pork down his gullet. chung myung gestured with his chin for them to sit down and join him.

their brains were absolutely fried from the confusion. is he going to bribe the madam to poison our food? yoon jong and jo gul couldn't really do much except comply to avoid a beating, so they both grudgingly sat down in front of him, hands tucked tightly to themselves.

"are you hungry?" asked the divine dragon while chewing loudly

"...what?" jo gul blinked.

"it seems over the course of four days, sasuk's ears have been rendered completely useless," chung myung scoffed, swallowing hard.

"i know what you said, it's just—" yoon jong tried to speak, his mind spinning. were you being sarcastic?

"i asked whether you guys are hungry or not," chung myung snapped.

yoon jong and jo gul looked at each other. they'd eaten a little earlier, yes, but there was still plenty of room left in their stomachs, especially when faced with the alternative of angering the monster sitting across from them.

"yes..." they muttered in unison.

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[reader] went ahead and plated the massive pile of food the three of them ordered.

yes, you heard that right—three. how was it that she had not one, not two, but three actual mount hua disciples crammed inside the tiny, hidden inn she worked at? the universe had one hell sense of a humor. (FUCK)

it honestly felt like a giant fuck you sent directly by whatever cosmic entity governed her fate. it didn't help that she had heard rumors these mount hua people were more of a bandit sect than proper taoists nowadays.

it's okay [reader]. this too shall pass.

with determination in her eyes, she headed back out to the dining hall with two large wooden trays balanced skillfully in her arms. she set down twenty individual plates onto their table, the dishes clattering softly in silence.

"thank you for the food, miss [reader]!" said the two most polite customers she'd ever had in her life.

see, the world isn't a lost cause yet. what good little kids they are. [reader] thought.

chung myung, meanwhile, said absolutely nothing. not a single word of gratitude or appreciation left his mouth, and he didn't even bother glancing up at her face. he just pulled his bowl an inch closer and went right back to eating. not that she expected manners from him, but he was usually much louder than this. a quiet chung myung was a deeply unsettling phenomenon.

he didn't make a single sound for fifteen minutes except for the aggressive scraping of his chopsticks against ceramic.

yoon jong had lost his appetite after the first few bites, just forcing himself to choke down the food. the crushing atmosphere was killing him. jo gul, on the other hand, was eating clean through the terror, slurping down more of [reader]'s cooking because his stomach simply couldn't resist the flavor, even under active threat.

[reader] stood silently behind the counter, palms starting to sweat as the silence stretched on without relief.

she was getting antsy.

she didn't know if his quiet meant he was plotting an arson or if he was about to flip her wooden counter out of spite.

(Meanwhile) inside his own head, chung myung was having a meltdown because he was confused by his own brain.

why did i get so annoyed earlier? was i even annoyed? why the hell was i annoyed anyway? ...tsk, i don't know, but i definitely want to beat my sasuks into a fine paste right now.

he glanced at the two sasuks eating her food and scoffed silently under his breath.

trying to break the heavy tension before the tavern suffocated them all, [reader] spoke up in her gentlest customer service voice.

"all of what the young disciples' ordered is on the house today," she murmured, keeping her posture perfectly relaxed. she just felt generous today—mostly because considering how much silver (and gold, AND platinum) the young disciple usually threw at her, this was just a small price to pay to keep him from breaking the furniture. (any further)

"is there... anything else you'd like?"

chung myung didn't say a single word to her. he didn't even look up from his broth, his jaw just worked as he ignored her like she was a ghost.

what the hell is his deal? [reader] thought, a cold sweat rolling down the back of her neck. it's fine, [reader], you get customers like this once in a while. you know how to deal with them.

"this is more than enough, miss [reader], really," jo gul said quickly, offering a sheepish smile on behalf of his junior.

"yeah, we'll let you know if there's anything else," yoon jong added, looking pleased with the meal despite the stress. "as usual, your cooking is the best in the province."

"haha, is that so? i'm glad you're enjoying yourselves," [reader] responded, her smile softening.

to jo gul's eyes, she looked like an saint standing in the dim light. wait, jo gul thought, eyes glazing over slightly, is she actually an angel sent from heaven just for me—

slam!

a fist struck the dark wood with a violent crack, sending a jolt through the entire table. cutlery rattled against ceramic.

everyone in the room turned to look at chung myung at his outburst. he slowly lifted his face, eyes dark, and turned his gaze straight toward [reader]'s face.

what. what. what did i do this time? [reader] panicked internally, forcing her expression to stay completely blank. he looks angry. WHY is he angry?

"...five bottles of wine, please," chung myung muttered, his lips pouting out in a childish huff.

"oh, alright..." she said, scrambling out of the dining hall as swiftly as possible.

she grabbed the wine from the shelf and set it down in front of him before retreating.

[reader] decided it was safer to leave the divine dragon alone before he decided to breathe actual fire at her wooden structure.

to avoid looking at him or engaging anymore, she made herself busy behind the counter, furiously wiping down surfaces and cleaning cups that were already clean. the most pointless cleaning of her life, and yet she kept going.

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seeing her deliberately move away to clean things that clearly didn't need cleaning made chung myung get incredibly irritated—even more so than before. he didn't understand why her pulling away made his thoughts get so dark and vicious. it scared him a little, because he was a grandmaster with perfect control over his killing intent, but right now he was worried he might act upon these weird, intense feelings if he wasn't careful.

to stop himself from doing something he'd have to think about later, he just aggressively shoved another burning spoonful of mapo tofu down his throat and chewed with ferocity.

completely giving up on the fake cleaning, [reader] finally retreated to a small corner table far away from them all and pulled out her wooden weiqi board, quietly arranging black and white stones just to keep her fingers occupied and her eyes somewhere safe.

chung myung, yoon jong, and jo gul sat in the heavy shadows of the dining hall, the light flickering between them.

jo gul leaned in slightly, lowering his voice to a whisper as he watched chung myung drain an entire bottle of wine in three massive gulps. "so... do you own this place, chung myung? did you buy this whole hill or something?"

chung myung furrowed his brows fiercely, slamming the empty clay bottle onto the table with a thud. "no. why would your useless head think that."

jo gul shrugged defensively, shuffling back in his seat. "well, from how you reacted when you walked in, i assumed it was... you know. your private property. you looked like you wanted to chop our hands off just for touching the chopsticks."

yoon jong looked around the room thoughtfully, running a finger over the clean edge of his bowl before whispering, "also, why is this inn so hidden anyway? it doesn't even have anything illegal going on inside, and with miss [reader]'s cooking, this would easily be the most famous establishment in the city. it makes no tactical sense to hide it down in a valley."

chung myung thought about it for a second, before chewing on a piece of leftover cabbage furiously.

"idiots," chung myung muttered, turning his face away. "absolute idiots. why should it be famous? so more loud, demanding bastards can come down here and ruin the quiet? shut up and eat your food."

yoon jong and jo gul exchanged a weary look across the table.

this guy clearly wasn't right in the head today. sometimes, yoon jong would like to split chung myung's skull open with a sword just to see what kind of broken gears were spinning inside.

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[reader] liked to think she was living in some kind of bizarre dream to avoid facing reality, though that method usually didn't last very long before reality gave her the hardest slap in the face.

three of the prestigious five swords of mount hua were currently crammed inside her back kitchen.

chung myung was standing at the wooden wash basin with his long sleeves rolled up to his elbows, intensely scrubbing whatever ceramic bowls and plates he could get his hands on. yoon jong washed the slick soap off with fresh water. jo gul dried them with a cloth and placed them neatly on the shelf.

[reader] had been alone in the back kitchen just five minutes ago, minding her own business and quietly rinsing out the wooden prep trays, when the curtain was thrown aside.

the three of them had suddenly marched into the space in a tight single file, their boots heavy against the floor.

"move aside," chung myung grunted, stepping right up to the sink and rolling his dark sleeves up past his elbows. "you're moving too slow. at this rate, we'll be stuck in this valley until sunrise."

"chung myung, show some respect!" yoon jong scolded instantly, stepping in right behind him and grabbing a clean drying cloth from the stack on the counter. "miss [reader] has been working hard all afternoon! we're here to assist her, not bark orders!"

"yeah!" jo gul chimed in, grabbing a second cloth and aggressively tying back his sleeves. "we can't just sit out there eating twenty plates of premium meat for free and act like ungrateful bandits! we have manners, you know!"

"who's an ungrateful bandit?!" chung myung snapped, splashing a handful of water into the tub as he dragged a pile of greasy ceramic bowls toward himself. "i'm the one who paid for half the stuff in this building! if anyone's a bandit here, it's you two parasites clinging to my sleeves!"

"we didn't ask you to follow us down here!" jo gul shot back, leaning over the basin to grab a rinsed bowl. "and don't splash soap water on my robes! these are official mount hua garments given by the sect leader himself!"

"then wash them yourself if you're so worried about your pretty clothes, sasuk!" chung myung scoffed as he scrubbed a bowl, the coarse rag squeaking against the glaze. "look at this grease! were you two pigs eating straight from the pan?!"

yoon jong let out a long sigh, taking a wet plate from chung myung's hands before the younger boy could accidentally snap the porcelain in half with his strength. "miss [reader], please ignore him. we're more than happy to clear the kitchen for you today. please, take a rest."

[reader] stood awkwardly near the spice rack, a small drying towel still held loosely in her hands, baffled as the three powerful martial artists hijacked her workspace.

"um... it's really fine," [reader] offered gently, trying to reach for a soapy platter. "you guests don't need to—"

"no, no! don't touch the grease!" jo gul insisted quickly, blocking her with his shoulder while offering a sheepish grin. "your hands will get dry from the lye! just leave it to us!"

"he's right," yoon jong agreed, neatly stacking the dried bowls onto the side counter. "it's the least we can do to return your hospitality."

chung myung snorted loudly from hearing that, splashing more suds around as he grumbled under his breath, though he continued scrubbing each bowl until it gleamed in the lantern light.

so here they were, carrying out their self proclaimed duties.

she didn't mind the help—she appreciated any assistance she could get around the inn—but this was still a bizarre situation to find herself in. even when accounting for all the strange encounters shehad with them before, she felt a small pang of gratitude.

having them around meant the monotonous cycle of her quiet life ended, even if only temporarily. but she wasn't going to say that out loud, obviously.

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peace never lasted long when chung myung was involved.

​yoon jong and jo gul were completely occupied near the large wooden wash basin, practically drowning in soap suds.

jo gul was drying off a stack of ceramic plates while yoon jong scrubbed down the grease, both of them working at double the speed just to keep up with the mountain of dishes they had somehow agreed to clean. chung myung, on the other hand, was already finished with his share. he was standing off to the side with his sleeves rolled up, crossing his arms and leaning his hip casually against the edge of the wooden counter.

​he grumbled softly under his breath, his lips pouting out just a fraction as he kicked at a loose wood shaving on the floorboards, but he didn't actually refuse to work.

in his mind, helping out around this specific kitchen meant [reader] wouldn't have to strain herself, and as far as he was concerned, making sure her life ran smoothly was just basic courtesy—not that he'd ever admit that out loud!

​just then, [reader] walked back into the kitchen after dealing with a few supplier deliveries outside.

she took one look at the heavy iron pot sitting by the stove—a beast of a pot that needed to go onto the top storage rack—and paused.

​stepping past the two frantically scrubbing sasuks, her voice dropped into the softest tone possible.

​"chung myung...?" [reader] asked softly. and hesitantly. "could you please carry that iron pot over to the top shelf for me? it's a bit too heavy for me to reach, and i could really use your help with it."

​chung myung froze, his dark eyes just blinking blankly. a few seconds passed before he let out a loud, dramatic huff, turning his body toward the stove with a stomping step.

"tsk... fine. whatever," chung myung muttered crossly, kicking a piece of stray firewood out of his path. "it's not even that heavy anyway. you're all just incredibly weak."

​without an ounce of resistance, he reached down and grabbed the iron pot with one hand before effortlessly hoisting it into the air. he set it down on the high wooden shelf exactly where [reader] needed it and placed his hands on his hips before looking away with a satisfied huff.

yoon jong wiped his damp hands against his apron, his brow furrowed as he glanced out the small kitchen window at the darkening sky. "speaking of which, chung myung, we need to wrap this up and head back up the mountain. we have to be through the gates before the hour of the pig[1].

​chung myung let out a snort. "hmp. why should i? I'm not going anywhere yet."

​"what do you mean you're not going anywhere?!" yoon jong gasped, his voice rising in exasperation. "it's almost nine! if we aren't back in our quarters on time, the sect leader is going to start asking questions! and when he realizes you're missing at the peak of the night, who do you think is going to face the repercussions? us! baek sasuk and i are the ones who will take the blame for your disobedience!"

​"then let him ask!" chung myung snapped back, crossing his arms. "i just ran four days across mountains! i deserve to sit here as long as i want and if you two are so scared of a little scolding, you can march back up the trail by yourselves!"

​"you—" yoon jong began, his forehead veins bulging as jo gul frantically tried to pat his shoulder to keep him from exploding.

​"chung myung..."​ [reader]'s voice cut through the air.

​"i'm actually planning to close the inn early tonight anyway," said [reader]. "so please... think about your sect leader and your senior brothers. they're only insisting because they're worried about you."

​chung myung froze. he stared at her, his dark eyebrows furrowing tightly before letting out a sigh.

​"...all right, fine," chung myung muttered, looking away and aggressively rubbing the back of his head. "we'll leave."

​yoon jong and jo gul stopped dead in their tracks. huh? after making all that fuss?

silence echoed inside the kitchen before jo gul broke it.

​"...he listened to you?"

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as they finally wound down the cleaning chores, heizi and baizi came trotting through the open back kitchen door looking for their usual scraps. yoon jong's eyes lit up as he crouched down on the dirt floor, feeding them a few leftover vegetable bits from the table.

"ah, look at you two... you're so well behaved," yoon jong said, cooing gently as he petted their furry heads. "miss [reader], what are their names? they're remarkably polite compared to—... certain rabid beasts we have roaming around back at the main estate."

chung myung stared at the two raccoons from his corner with his arms crossed. "they look fat."

[reader] suppressed a smile, wiping her hands on her apron. "they are called heizi and baizi."

"beautiful names," yoon jong said, smiling brightly as he watched them chew.

once the kitchen was spotless and the work officially done, the four of them walked back out to the main counter in the dining hall. chung myung reached deep into his dark robes and dumped a heavily clinking leather pouch of silver coins onto the wooden counter, yet again.

"take it," chung myung grumbled, turning his face away so he wouldn't have to look at her."

"i thought i made it clear that everything ordered today was completely on the house. i'm not charging you a single copper, young disciple."

chung myung fussed. "i don't care about your rules. just take the damn money."

[reader] reached out and grabbed the heavy leather pouch before catching chung myung's hand in her own. she forced the silver pouch directly back into his open palm, closing his fingers over the leather one by one.

"no," she said firmly, looking at him. "take it back."

chung myung froze the second her fingers brushed against his skin. "!!..."

he yanked his hand back as if he'd been burned by a hot iron stove, aggressively shoving the silver pouch back into the depths of his robes. he refused to look her in the eye.

"fine! keep your stupid free food!" chung myung shouted over his shoulder, stomping toward the front entrance and kicking a loose floorboard in a petty, childish tantrum as he went. "don't come crying to me when this leaky wooden roof collapses right on your head because you're bankrupt!"

he slammed the heavy wooden front door shut behind him with a loud bang that probably shook the door frames off their hinges.

dragging his feet through the dirt, he and his bewildered, sweating sasuks began the long march back up the dark mountain path into the night, leaving the quiet valley, and a very confused [reader] behind.

"what just happened?"

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[1]: hour of the pig (9 PM)

[a/n]: i deeply apologize for disappearing for weeks and not updating this fic for like a month m( _ _ )m i had no motivation to write whatsoever because finals were eating me alive. hope you enjoyed the chapterr!!!

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