Our journey to Podarlap Palace was already veering far from the path we had expected.
We had assumed we would return the way we came—back to the place where we first met Dorje, and then head to the palace from there. But instead, Tenzin planned to move far westward, crossing mountain ranges in northeast India.
He said Podarlap Palace was located closer to central-northern India.
And so, we were currently moving toward central-northern India.
“This path is completely different from the one we came on, isn’t it?”
“This is actually the fastest route to Podarlap Palace. That other place where we met—it's the long way around.”
Tenzin explained, walking ahead of us. From behind, Ji-ryong’s voice called out.
“What about the Muslims? Will they be a problem?”
He was asking if we might run into Muslim patrols on this route. Tenzin shook his head right away.
“You saw that village, didn’t you? They don’t pay close attention to these mountainous areas. And if they do come, they usually leave quickly. Last time was only because we had smuggled out a forbidden sutra from the city. That’s why they chased us.”
He must’ve been referring to the village where they treated us as divine guests.
We’d been cautious entering that village, wondering if Muslim pursuers might be lying in wait for Dorje.
Tenzin’s mention of the village reminded me of the gift I left behind last night.
‘I wonder if the village chief found it?’
We’d originally planned to stop by the sealed temple and then return to the village to say goodbye.
Even though the situation had involved some misunderstanding, the villagers had helped us track down the Five Venoms Sect and taken good care of us—offering meals, and even making me curry, which I loved.
Still, unsure of how they’d react to our departure, we decided I’d sneak back alone in the night and leave a gift behind.
A few silver ingots as thanks, placed in the cave we’d used as our lodging.
They might end up believing some divine spirit had ascended after leaving behind treasures—but hey, we wouldn’t be around to hear the rumors, right?
I’d given up on clearing up all their misunderstandings anyway.
Tenzin said that much silver would greatly benefit the village. I hoped it would help them live a bit more comfortably.
While I was thinking that, Ji-ryong nodded.
“Then it sounds like we don’t have to worry too much.”
Everyone had looked a bit concerned when Ji-ryong brought up the Muslims, but his calm tone helped them relax.
The group had a great deal of trust in Ji-ryong.
I walked a few steps faster to catch up to Tenzin and asked him something else.
“Are the Muslims really that strong?”
“No. There are simply many of them. They haven’t trained in martial arts, so they’re not that dangerous. The problem is that we can’t fight them openly. If we harm their government troops, their border security will tighten. That would make it harder for us to continue recovering lost sutras.”
“I see, so that’s the reason.”
Even though some of the martial artists from Podarlap Palace had been injured, it wasn’t because the enemy was powerful. It was because they couldn’t afford to cause incidents that would attract attention.
Killing government soldiers would only increase surveillance and tighten border control, which would severely impact Podarlap Palace’s mission to retrieve Buddhist texts from the western regions.
So they’d rather endure injuries than escalate conflict.
‘Makes sense.’
I nodded as we reached the top of a hill—just in time to see snow-capped mountains rising in the distance.
The sight of the snowy peaks made a new concern pop into my head.
“If we go further northwest, won’t it get cold crossing those mountains?”
The higher elevation as we moved toward the center meant we’d really have to climb.
Seeing snow made me worry about the kids.
The closer we got to the Himalayas—even near Everest—the colder it would get.
Sure, they were spirit beasts, but even they had their limits in cold weather.
Even creatures like Seol, Bing, and Dong—who specialized in ice—weren’t entirely immune to the chill.
At my question, Tenzin looked back at the children riding on Hwanji and Hwana’s backs, then gave a slight nod.
“We won’t pass directly through snowy terrain, but for about a day, it might get a little chilly.”
“Yeah? Hmm. Then we better get ready.”
We’d need to make preparations to keep the kids warm. Last time we crossed mountains, the cold only hit at night, so it hadn’t been too bad.
But a full day of low temperatures meant I had to be proactive.
I called over Yo-hwa.
“Yo-hwa, I think we’ll be crossing a cold mountain pass. Do you think you could weave some clothes for the kids with your thread?”
– Kisshi?
“Yeah. Clothes. Your thread’s warm, after all.”
Yo-hwa’s thread, as you know, doesn’t show up on infrared vision.
Which also means it’s excellent at blocking heat.
Since infrared is emitted from heat, the fact that her silk can block it means it’s great at insulating warmth.
So I planned to have her make simple clothes for the kids.
I was already wearing a vest made from her crimson silk—warm and comfortable beyond belief.
– Kisshishi.
– Kkyuit? 『Why?』
At my request, Yo-hwa picked up little Dong, who’d been lying on Hwanji and Hwana’s back. She started measuring him with her front legs, then immediately began spinning silk to make the clothes.
Using her two front legs like a loom, she formed the frame and stretched silk from her spinnerets, skillfully shaping the garment.
She used to just clump silk together haphazardly, but lately, after spending time with real textile artisans, her work ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ had grown fast and incredibly detailed.
In the blink of an eye, she’d finished a tiny, well-made outfit for Dong.
– Kisshishi.
“All done? We’ll only need it for about a day, but this looks way too good!”
I was about to praise Yo-hwa for the unexpectedly high-quality result when Hwa-eun, who’d been chatting with the other women behind us, came up and asked:
“What’s that, So-ryong?”
She seemed intrigued by the tiny, adorable outfit in my hands.
Holding it up, I explained:
“Oh, just a set of clothes for Dong.”
“For Dong?”
“Yeah. Tenzin said we’d be passing through a chilly area for about a day. Not snow-covered, but still pretty cold.”
“Ahh, so this is for Dong to wear?”
“Yes, Hwa-eun.”
“Then... can I help him put it on?”
“...Huh?”
“Is that okay? Or... not?”
It was such a rare, precious moment—I didn’t really want to give it up.
But come on, this was Hwa-eun asking.
Could I really say no?
With a bit of regret in my chest, I answered.
“Um... of course.”
‘...I wanted to do it though.’
I used to think—back in my past life—that it’d be great to marry someone with the same hobbies as me.
That’s the common dream of people who get totally obsessed with their passions.
Like building model kits together or raising the same animals.
But now that I was actually engaged to someone who shared my interests, I wanted to say this:
If anyone out there is dreaming of that kind of relationship—think again.
You know why?
Because I now had to split my precious experiences in half.
Whoever said “shared joy is doubled” had clearly never lived like this.
When you share everything, sometimes your personal joy gets reduced to zero.
‘So this is what marriage means—getting robbed of your best moments by your wife!’
Just as I was being hit by the shocking truth of married life, I passed the clothes and Dong over to Hwa-eun... along with some careful instructions.
If I hesitated any longer, Hwa-eun might start feeling hurt.
“Whatever you do, don’t touch the tail, Hwa-eun.”
“Ah, I get it. The tail could fall off, right?”
“Yes. Maybe it wouldn’t be an issue with Seol or Bing, but Dong’s still young. He might lose control and drop it.”
“Understood.”
Even though he was a spirit beast, and not just some regular lizard, I still made sure she was extra careful.
For people who raise reptiles, there’s nothing worse than your beloved pet dropping its tail.
Sure, it doesn't happen easily, but when you raise lizards, there are those moments when something completely ridiculous causes it to happen.
Did you bump him while feeding?
—Yup. Time to drop the tail.
Did the tail get caught in the enclosure lid?
—Sure. Dropping it now.
Did the male bite during mating?
—Absolutely. Say goodbye to the tail.
It can happen at the most absurd times.
“We should put the tail through first. Dong, could you lift your tail for a sec?”
At Hwa-eun’s request, Dong raised his tail, and she began dressing him in the outfit made from Yo-hwa’s stretchy silk.
The design was a single-piece suit with just the mouth area left open. She slipped in the tail, then the hind legs, then the front.
Dong now looked like a tiny lizard in a hooded space suit.
It almost resembled a pre-shedding look, but since Yo-hwa’s silk wasn’t translucent like real skin, Dong now appeared as a pure white lizard—like he was wearing a mask over his usual blue body.
“Oh my god, he’s adorable!”
The tiny thing, clad in what looked like a hoodie space suit, made Hwa-eun squeal in delight.
“What is it, Hwa-eun?”
“What’s going on over here?”
Drawn by the noise, the other women came running over. The forest path was soon filled with excited voices.
“Kyaa! What is that!? That’s too cute!”
“Let me see too!”
“Just look! Don’t touch the tail, okay?”
Everyone was thrilled—except me.
***
Traveling westward with the Himalayas to our right, our group finally turned fully north.
We were deep into mountain paths and passes now.
Naturally, Gungbong’s grumbling started up again.
“Aah, my legs hurt...”
“Cheer up, Gungbong.”
“Yeah, we’re stopping to rest at that pass up ahead.”
His sister-in-law and Eumbong tried to soothe him, but Gungbong gave me a side glance from beside Hwanji and Hwana.
“Ah, I want to ride in comfort too...”
Clearly, he still hadn’t let go of the dream of getting a ride on Hwanji and Hwana.
Still clinging to that delusion, was he?
He really hasn’t given up, huh.
After returning from the mental realm, Hwanji and Hwana had grown noticeably more affectionate. They had no problem letting the kids or me ride on their backs now.
They even kept their promise and let me nap on their bellies.
But that leniency only applied to me.
Even Sister Seol and Hwa-eun weren’t allowed on their backs yet.
Besides me or the spirit beasts, no human had been granted permission to ride them.
At best, maybe Seol or Hwa-eun would be allowed someday—but that would be the limit.
Still sulking over not being able to ride Cheongwol, Gungbong kept on pining.
Even after being dragged off and scolded yesterday for his nonsense.
“Those creatures don’t allow anyone near them unless they’re family to So So-hyeop. Stop begging already.”
That was Ji-ryong, snapping at Gungbong after yet another round of “Can I ride just once, please?”
And in response?
“Then I’ll be family too!”
– Pffft!
That line made Hwa-eun choke on her water and spray it everywhere. Her eyes turned deadly as she glared.
“Keh-KEH! Gungbong, you and I need to have a little chat!”
She dragged him off. For a whole hour.
In my past life, there were always those crazy people who’d visit your place and beg for a pup from your litter. Hwa-eun’s glare looked exactly like what the owner would give those people.
You dare covet my pet So-ryong?
He’s nearly mature and ready to breed—
That kind of vibe.
She’d given him an earful for a full hour, but clearly his brain had hit the reset button again. All forgotten.
Eventually, with some pushing from his sister-in-law and Eumbong, the whining Gungbong made it up the ridge.
We made camp in a rocky crevice and started a fire. Despite all the complaining, Gungbong suddenly volunteered to go hunting.
“I’m going out to hunt.”
“We’ve still got plenty of jerky.”
“I just... don’t feel great.”
Sounded like he needed to clear his head.
Everyone was tired from the journey, so he went off alone. A little while later, he returned dragging two massive monkeys.
“Check these out!”
They had golden and red fur on their heads, with striking blue faces.
“Monkeys... Hоu type, huh?”
“Never seen ones like this before.”
“Me neither.”
These monkeys were unusually large. Even Sister Seol looked shocked.
“Golden Snub-nosed Monkeys? Where did you find these?”
“In that forest over there. The bigger one—he even dodged my arrows!”
“He dodged your arrows!?”
“Yeah! I was stunned. I had to use my Chain Shot technique to take him down.”
The one he pointed at looked to be a male, given the size.
Gungbong’s arrows were nearly always on target.
The fact that it dodged him—and that he had to use Chain Shot, his special technique to land multiple arrows simultaneously—left everyone impressed.
Still, despite its impressive agility, that nimble monkey ended up as dinner.
The next morning.
Gungbong was found in a dire state.
“Gungbong! Are you okay!?”
“Huff... huff...”
He looked like he was in serious pain.
