Two years had passed since that day.
I studied with Master Yoon all this time.
I learned more from silence than from words. More from questions than from answers.
But now, the time had come to leave.
The mist was thicker that day.
As if the sect wanted to hide my departure, to cover my tracks.
I walked down the path in silence, with no luggage, no formal farewells.
Only the weight of something I couldn't name.
At the end of the trail, Sister Yeon was waiting for me.
Sitting on the same ledge where I first saw her. Notebook in her lap, hands still.
She watched me for a long time without writing.
Then pulled out a folded sheet from the notebook and handed it to me.
> "You leave as if the world is calling you. But beware: sometimes the world just wants to see if you'll return."
I took the paper without saying a word.
The silence between us was its own language.
As I tucked the paper away, I heard a yawn.
— Hey, newbie… where are you going again?
It was Brother Baek, leaning against the same old tree, scratching his head.
— I forgot. But it's fine. We'll meet again, right? Even if I don't remember your name.
He waved with two fingers and lay back down, as if my departure were just another dream he'd wake up from later.
In the garden that never seemed to bloom, the old Gardener was staring at a rock.
He didn't turn to me. Just said, softly:
— Moss only grows where the step lingers. But even loose stones know how to roll back.
Master Li Yoon appeared soon after, emerging from the mist as he always did — unhurried, silent.
He stopped beside me. Stood there for a moment, just looking.
— You're really leaving? — he asked.
— I need to see the world. Understand what lies beyond this place… before it's too late.
He nodded.
And then, as if deciding to share a secret that had grown old:
— She's my daughter.
I looked at Yeon. She didn't react. Just lowered her eyes.
— Her mother's been gone a long time. And since then, she's learned to be silent.
Just like you've learned to listen.
For a moment, I thought he might ask me to stay.
But he didn't.
— The Low Mist doesn't bind anyone. It only watches.
And if you ever return… it will remember your steps.
Yeon stood up. Walked over to me.
And for the first time… touched my arm. A brief gesture. A whole weight.
She said nothing. Neither did I.
I simply walked away. One step at a time.
And behind me, the mist closed the path, as if swallowing everything — except the silent promise that, one day, I would return.