LOSE MY BREATH

LMB 35

35: Kalopsia.

Spending time in the Golden Mountain Sect differed greatly from both the Geumgangsan and the Yangling.

While Geumgangsan was filled with rule-abiding, graceful killjoys, and the Yangling with annoying rich people and his Jeongin, the Golden Mountain consisted of people who very much knew his face and were very much disappointed that he couldn’t remember theirs.

Lucky thing was that he was eager to get to know everyone again, and so he was often surrounded by junior disciples. They had been kids when he had been a teenager, and now, being older, they treated him with as much respect as one would their big brother.

Which in the Golden Mountain meant almost none at all.

It was hilarious. He was being bullied constantly for not knowing where everything was and who the important elders were and which kind of stream was the best for drinking.

The kids were so different here that the contrast to the Geumgangsan felt like he’d crossed to another reality. How come this wasn’t the place he’d ended up in? He would’ve readjusted to the surroundings so much faster.

Then again, it was easy to remember the pros of stumbling into the Geumgangsan as his saviour silenced the snickering junior disciples with one look when Jisung attempted to shoot a bow and failed miserably. It seems that he was also somewhat of a prodigy in that regard.

He had also been somewhat of one back at home. He was pretty good at most of the things he set his mind to, but he’d never actually done archery before so trying to do it now perfectly, even with a majorly powerful golden core, was pretty tough.

“Jisung sunbae, how is it possible to forget even your skills?” asked one of the juniors while stifling his grin since they couldn’t laugh at him now that Minho was there to glare at them.

The amount of intimidation in only one look from Minho was criminally high.

In any case, the kids had been told the story about memory loss as well. Jisung was starting to feel that the explanation didn’t work quite as well as he’d hoped.

“Hey, is that any way to talk to your elder, huh? Where is the respect? Does Yongbok not give you guys enough work to do since you have this much time to be a little nuisance?”

“You are holding the bow wrong,” said Minho.

“Minho! Not you too,” Jisung groaned. "My confidant, the only one I trusted - is this how you will end it?"

Minho huffed, taking the bow out of his hands and putting it back correctly. “Here. Keep the grip relaxed.”

Then he had Minho’s hands on him, gently pushing his elbow up and then lifting his chin with two long fingers. He knocked Jisung’s feet further apart, and that, okay, wow.

“Use your core,” the man advised like Jisung was able to take any of that in when there was the lightest of touches pulling his shoulder back. “Direct the arrow with your spiritual energy.”

Jisung pulled the string taut, trying to focus. As if that would ever be possible with Minho so close next to him. He made a valiant effort anyway, drawing his spiritual energy into it. In the periphery of his vision, he could see Minho looking at him, assessing.

The focus faltered.

“Ah, fuck it,” he said and closed his eyes. Ignored Minho. Straightened his pose even further, feeling it out with his golden core pulsing.

Let go.

A swish. A thunk. Jisung opened his eyes.

“Oh,” he said. Tilted his head. “I guess it really is just about forming a strong golden core around here.”

“Mn.”

“What!” said the juniors. “What! Jisung sunbae, that was amazing!”

He got a little of that respect back after hitting that bulls-eye eyes closed. Though it seemed that the one most happy about it was Minho, who didn’t glare at the kids at all after they started singing his praises.

So that was one great thing about the Golden Mountain.

Few other favourite things of his included walking through the streets, buying things with Minho’s money, and eating food that was  excellent.  They had spices here! So many of them!

Though it appeared that even Yongbok thought his spice tolerance was disgraceful and would not miss an opportunity to remind him how bad his food taste was, Jisung told him more of those alternate reality miniskirt stories as a form of gentle revenge.

Minho was pained, of course, since even the blandest foods usually had more than he was used to. Jisung went out of his way to beg the kitchen maids to make something separate for him and had to thank the other Jisung for keeping up relations around here because the kitchen maids loved him.

It turned out a lot of people loved him here. Lots of girls. In every vendor they stopped at there was a girl who knew him, and who he’d clearly been buttering up, judging from all the teasing comments he got.

"Master Jisung has flirted with us for so many free dumplings over the years, and now he wants to pay?" said one girl with a knowing grin.

“Ahahaha…” Jisung refused to look at his right where Minho’s glare was boring a hole into his profile. “Well! I’ve definitely changed my ways now. Right, Minho?”

Minho replied with a ringing silence but paid for the dumplings anyway. Then he continued onward with brisk steps without even checking if Jisung was following.

“Minho! You can’t be mad at me if my alternate reality self has been acting with loose morals!”

A woman cooed at him from another vendor. He waved back, which made Minho decide it was enough for the day, and they headed back.

Yongbok slapped the back of his head when Jisung recounted the experience to him, which Jisung felt was both unfair and entirely deserved.

The third thing, the thing he loved most, was that they went swimming around here. It wasn’t quite summer yet, the weather was mild and warm but not sweltering, and all of the trees with flowers blossomed and made everything look really romantic.

And Jisung got to swim! Without a robe on! Only wearing trousers!

“It’s not the same,” he explained to Yongbok when they floated next to the boat in the middle of the lake, the water only barely on the comfortable side of cool. “They have a cold spring. It’s not for swimming, it’s for soaking.”

“Right and there are no lakes or other places with water there?”

“I mean, I don’t know. There very well could be. They’re just not really good with nudity,” Jisung mused.

“That the reason Lee Minho stayed back?”

Jisung pulled himself to the boat, leaning to the wooden side of it. “That, and he’s still mad at me for being a harlot in both realities. He won’t admit it, but he totally is.”

Yongbok snorted. “You know, we were supposed to go to the Geumgangsan for a year as guest disciples when we were teens. That had to be postponed because the political situation turned south real fast.”

“Lucky you,” Jisung said, and Yongbok splashed him.

So the days went by fast in the Golden Mountain; much like in the other places he had visited, there were many things to see and even more to do. People, food, swimming. Yongbok made him attend dinner in time for the rest of their stay there.

And it was different from the Geumgangsan, and it was different from home, but it was also sunny days and Yongbok did not hate him and Minho who taught him how to shoot with a bow.

The ticking clock was there, of course, in the background always, and his heart had not even thought of starting to heal, but it was nice to sit by the docks and listen to children laughing and let the weather turn his skin sun-touched like it had been in his childhood.