The Fox Spirit
In the half-burned darkness of the night, low chants drifted through the Lord of the Murim Alliance’s adopted daughter, Baek Yeong’s, funeral hall in the Upper Pure Palace.
It was a prayer offered by the sect leader, Noh Gyeon, for her peaceful passage, yet the expression on Yu Baekheon’s face as he stood behind him was utterly unreadable.
...Father.
He still remembered the first time Baek Yeong had called him that.
A child who had been forced to hide in a narrow crevice and watch her birth parents die, caught in the chaos of martial men’s strife.
She had been too shocked to speak at first, and the way she had finally fidgeted with her tiny hands and grabbed hold of his leg had nearly overwhelmed him.
So overjoyed had he been that Yu Baekheon had lifted Baek Yeong high with both hands and spun her around and around.
Yes. I am your father. Say it again.
Death of parents, then revenge.
It was in that long, dreary passage that his adopted daughter had illuminated the great cause he had failed to grasp for himself.
I will make sure no more children like me, and no more children like you, ever appear in the Central Plains again.
Righteousness and chivalry, as practiced by the powerful, were nothing but deception dressed up as virtue.
Their so-called goodness never truly reached the oppressed, nor did it arrive when it was needed most.
So he would set the standard anew—not on righteousness or chivalry, but on human feeling—and remove every grievance from under heaven.
That had surely been his intent.
And yet, when he closed his eyes, Baek Yeong’s face as she bled to death began to rise before him.
Eyes stripped of life.
Lips split and torn, blood crusted black upon them.
...The thing I began for your sake ended up harming you instead.
Enduring the sensation that his heart might be torn out of his chest, Yu Baekheon swallowed a mouthful of bitter saliva.
It was not only Baek Yeong.
The one he had trusted and relied upon like a teacher.
His friends, for whom he might once have given his life.
And, like Baek Yeong, the disciples he had treated as though they were his own children.
To carry out his will, how many dear people had he cut down with his own hands?
At first, there had been tears.
When all the tears in him had dried up, remorse had come instead, and then he had begun to spit up blood.
The terrible loneliness and agony that those who claimed they would walk like the horn of a lone rhinoceros, with all desire and torment cast aside, would never understand.
And yet he could not die.
And yet he could not abandon his cause.
Even if he had to soak his entire body in blood, he would see it through to the end.
When you cast away all worry and desire and move forward like the horn of a lone rhinoceros, I will embrace the pain and cries of the powerless and walk on like a rakshasa.
The steadfast conviction of one man.
Or perhaps obsession, or arrogance.
Call it madness if you liked—the flame had now become a vast inferno, and it had begun to move toward the Central Plains.
As Yu Baekheon was gathering his resolve once more, a telepathic message reached his ear from beyond the door.
“Alliance Lord. Just as you said, the Beggar’s Sect disciple who had been tailing them has appeared again at Ohwahae.”
The sound of fingertips tapping against the tabletop rang out in a steady rhythm.
The pace was maddeningly unhurried, yet somehow it made anyone listening feel restless all the same.
The one making the sound was none other than the Tang Clan’s precious daughter.
Dang Sohye’s face looked troubled enough that anyone could tell at a glance.
Cheongwol.
Why had this woman appeared as though she had dropped out of the sky just to leave her in such a state of confusion?
Surely the infant born to her aunt, Dang Gyeoryeong, had been said to be a boy.
And yet the one who had brought the jade treasured by the Tang Clan looked, by all appearances, exactly like a woman.
My brother was right. Just because her face looks somewhat similar, and just because she brought a precious jade ornament, doesn’t mean she’s my aunt’s child.
The evidence was flimsy, and even the sex was different.
So why did Cheongwol keep getting under her skin every time she saw her?
Dang Sohye let out a deep sigh and rose, glancing out the window.
It was useless to keep turning the matter over in her own head any longer.
In the end, this was something that could only be settled once her father, Dang Hyeongeuk, arrived.
At the thought, the heaviness in her chest seemed to ease at last.
...Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him in a few days.
As a cool breeze teased the ends of her hair, Dang Sohye thought of the man who might become her betrothed.
He was generally indifferent, but he had been dutiful enough to play the role of a prospective husband when it came to the affairs of the family.
And now that his hidden beloved had appeared, he had vanished without even showing his nose, which felt rather infuriating.
Worse yet, that beloved happened to be Cheongwol—the very person giving her a headache.
The Central Plains were vast enough to seem without end, and yet lately Dang Sohye had found them strangely small.
That’s what the monks mean when they speak of fate, isn’t it?
Just as she thought that, closing her eyes slowly, Dang Gangjin would certainly have said as much.
Then she heard the cheerful laughter of a woman and the warm voice of a man.
She opened her eyes in a hurry and looked around, and as expected, Seomun Hwi and Cheongwol were chatting together.
Those two...
She had intended to look the other way and let it go, if only because they had reunited after so long.
But Cheongwol was clutching Seomun Hwi’s arm and dragging him around, while Seomun Hwi followed her with quiet, affectionate eyes that seemed to drip with feeling.
...
They had only just met again, and yet had Seomun Hwi ever once made that kind of expression toward her, even briefly?
They were so clearly miserable without each other that if she barged in now, she’d only end up playing the role of an intruder.
She had boasted that she would guard what was hers on her own, but the initiative had already been stolen from her. There was nothing she could do about that.
There are plenty of men in the Central Plains who like me. No need to cling to just one.
She was not pleased by it, certainly, but Dang Sohye’s pride would not allow her to become some tragic woman pining away.
Of course, that did not mean she intended to hand him over obediently.
Dang Sohye curled one corner of her mouth and drew a deep breath.
Once Seomun Hwi promised that, no matter what happened, he would treat her as a man to the very end, Cheongwol began acting however she pleased with complete ease.
“Hwi, I’m bored. Spar with me.”
“I think I ate too much at dinner. Let’s go for a walk.”
“Liquor? I’ve never even tasted it before. Should I try some?”
Whatever she did was fine, but the problem was the strangely faint distance between them.
Because Cheongwol always clung so close to him, Seomun Hwi had to wrestle with the rising turmoil and his own strength every single time.
But if he pushed her away now, she would surely misunderstand and think he was doing it because he saw her as a woman after all.
In the end, he could do nothing but let himself be dragged along to her liking.
“Hwi! Look at this. This flower has an unusual shape.”
It was only a little troublesome, in truth.
Seomun Hwi looked at Cheongwol instead of the flower and replied, “It doesn’t seem poisonous, but don’t touch it carelessly. You never know.”
Just as the atmosphere was about to grow even more pleasant, a sharp voice cut into the ears of both of them.
“Take your hands off my betrothed!”
Startled, Seomun Hwi turned to the side and saw Dang Sohye striding toward them.
Only then did he remember that he had come to the Tang Clan for an engagement.
They had not yet exchanged any serious words, but still.
“Miss Dang, this is...”
Seomun Hwi began to hurriedly explain, like a man caught in the act of adultery, but Cheongwol spoke first.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
After saying so, Cheongwol gave an awkward smile and quickly stepped back.
She had done nothing wrong, so why did she look as though she were the one at fault?
But Dang Sohye merely tipped her chin up a little, as though to say she was not fooled so easily.
Were they going to make her look like some jealous woman by putting on a pitiful act in front of her beloved?
Dang Sohye flicked her gaze sideways and looked at Seomun Hwi.
See that?
He was already completely taken in, staring at the fox spirit as though she were some pitiful thing.
She might yield him later if she had to, but for now she was irritated enough that she had no intention of letting him go.
“You say you didn’t mean it, but your behavior says otherwise. How am I supposed to believe you?”
Dang Sohye’s hand slipped through Seomun Hwi’s arm.
“I know the two of you are friends, but you’re standing awfully close. What if some scandal comes of it?”
With a bright little smile, she let her head come to rest pointedly on his broad shoulder.
“From now on, both of you should be more careful. Especially you, Young Master Seomun.”
After tossing those barbed words at Cheongwol, Dang Sohye turned her head and met Seomun Hwi’s gaze.
“My father won’t be pleased if a scandal breaks out.”
“...”
Once she brought up the family affairs of the clan, Seomun Hwi could only lower his head as well.
By this point, one could certainly say she had done an excellent job of splitting up a pair of ardent lovers.
Though looking at their faces, what rose up in her chest was more unease than triumph.
She shouldn’t have treated me like I didn’t exist.
Dang Sohye clasped Seomun Hwi’s arm tightly and turned toward her own room.
“Let’s have a talk. It’s been a while.”
Though he nodded reluctantly, Seomun Hwi kept glancing back at Cheongwol, who had been left standing there all alone.
What was she thinking right now?
He wanted to run back to her immediately, but he could not.
If he was to be the friend Cheongwol wanted, he would never act that way.