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In the stillness of the night, there sat a young disciple, drinking under the plum blossom tree. A white spirit animal—a weasel named Baek-Ah—wrapped itself around Cheong Myeong’s neck. His drunkenness made his skin hot, and it gave the weasel warmth. He was the only one awake at this hour, drowning himself in cheap wine stolen taken from the sect. Bottles upon bottles scattered around the grass, with the leftovers staining the ground. It would have seemed impossible to drink that much if that person had not met Cheong Myeong.
The last bottle in his hand only has a few drops remaining. He swayed his arms around in vague motions, the wine inside threatening to fall.
He talked to no one—or to someone who Baek-Ah could not see—about how life had been going. He rambled on about the day—the training, and the sect's status. And with mock lamentation, he complained about the disciples' lack of appreciation
The weasel only sat there, listening to his intoxicated ramblings. As it was a spirit animal, it had the ability to understand him, but it could only respond with small squeaks.
Every time Cheong Myeong got drunk, it would gain new knowledge about him from his ramblings. And with months of that, it was able to understand why and how Cheong Myeong became this kind of person. It knew when to comfort him, when to nag him, and when to stay quiet.
When Cheong Myeong's regretful past haunted him. Leaving him clawing at the bedsheets with desperation and pain. With his tears streaming down his cheeks and wetting his clothes. Baek-Ah would wipe away his tears with it’s tiny paw and hug him tight. Baek-Ah will be there.
When Cheong Myeong suffered extensive damage, Baek-Ah forced him to get treatment. No matter how Cheong Myeong defended himself, Baek-Ah would refuse to listen to him. It would force him to receive treatment by squeaking in his ear non-stop and pulling at his hair. It hates seeing Cheong Myeong hurt, so it takes care of him.
When Cheong Myeong reminisced about Mount Hua of the past, his home, Baek-Ah would stay quiet. The weasel would listen to him talk about the past with an undertone of melancholy and nostalgia. He felt homesick, and Baek-Ah knew it. It only nuzzled its head against his cheek because, alas, it was still a weasel.
Baek-Ah continued to listen to Cheong Myeong’s drunken ramblings until he ran out of energy. With a sigh, he lied down on the soft grass with a serene look on his face. Baek-Ah climbed into his clothes and snuggled against his chest, making itself comfortable. It closed it’s eyes and relaxed, drifting off into the warm embrace of sleep.