Pure Love is Noble: "Better Than Expected?"
"Better than I thought?"
Upon arriving in Suzhou city, we settled into the lodgings prepared by Commander Yugu Su.
At first, I was on guard, wondering if they'd rigged something shady, but luckily it was a high-end inn in the civilian district.
They'd even arranged rooms for my attendants on either side of mine, so I could use it without worry.
Was this their idea of consideration? Or maybe a ploy to lower my defenses—either way, I couldn't let my guard down.
Whatever the case, it was a fancy inn: the food was delicious, the beds soft and cozy. A great setup.
The attendants were all satisfied from day one.
"Heh heh heh, this is perfect, young master."
Way too obvious, you guys.
Its location next to wine houses and brothels meant plenty of entertainment options—and apparently, all free on the Jiangsu commander's orders!
...As I said before, we're not here on vacation.
I had no interest anyway, thanks to my lingering aversion to women after that incident.
Passed on booze too—no way I'd drink in enemy territory.
But I didn't want to micromanage my men's personal lives, so after hours, they were free to do as they pleased.
That kept morale sky-high, even after the long journey to this distant land.
The next day, the supplies arrived right on time.
Seeing Hon Yeon sloshing full with fiery oil and rumbling contentedly, everything seemed sorted. Now I just had to do my part.
But my role was passive: wait for the pirates to show. Nothing proactive I could do, so time dragged.
What to do in the meantime? Lounging wasn't bad, but I felt like moving.
"Guess I'll step out for a bit."
Curious about local sentiment in Jiangsu, I figured I'd stroll the market.
Throwing on an outer robe, I headed out quick. Sitting idle wasn't getting me anywhere anyway.
*
Even while tending her late parents' spirit tablets, she never skipped her daily prayers.
Please let Bijong return safe and sound again.
As the wife of a soldier, worry was her constant companion.
What job in this world flirts closest with death? Most would say "soldier."
Take the widow next door, Mrs. Yoon.
When troops were pulled from the south to bolster Gansu, her husband volunteered for urgent duty—only to fall in one stroke to a surprise raid by Mongol Oirat horsemen.
Why didn't anyone tell her? Her wails blaming the army still rang in Yurin’s ears. Outsiders died seven or eight times out of ten there.
Selfishly, that made Yurin relieved. Someone had to go. Just glad it wasn't Bijong.
Yet fear gnawed: what if Bijong faced danger next? His body could be in peril anytime.
Protect his safety.
Ambition or honor might play a part in his choice, sure—but ultimately, she knew he chose this path for her sake.
—That occasional "sorry" look he gave her.
No need, but he surely carried it in his heart.
I'll protect you. His one promise to her.
She was grateful. It meant he valued her that much, even making such a heavy call for her.
Still, she sometimes wanted to stop him—the depth of her care made it ache.
But his tireless effort touched her deeply, fueling her support.
So all she could do was trust his path and pray for his safety.
"I'm off."
She understood in her head, but loneliness hit when she missed him.
Couples and lovers strolled the streets; even those seeming bored with routine surely cherished it inside.
Envious but hiding it, she shopped for necessities.
Prices had spiked on her regulars—she felt it keenly.
But needs must: ignoring her wallet's silent scream, she bought anyway.
Firewood alley: veggies and eggs for tomorrow, plus three measures of rice borrowed from old man Baek.
Arms full after grabbing everything.
"Ugh, heavy..."
She hefted it with effort.
Ugh, hands shaking anyway. Gritting her teeth, Yurin stepped forward—
"Hey, carry it like that and you'll wreck your back!"
"!?"
That voice—too familiar.
Before she could turn in shock, the load vanished from her hands.
"Shouldn't I be the one carrying this?"
Callused hands brushed hers; familiar warmth spread.
"...Bijong?"
He grinned like the rascal he always was.
The journey had tanned his skin and etched fatigue into his face, but same old smile.
"Snuck up to surprise you. Figured you'd be shopping—nailed it, huh?"
"How'd the bandit subjugation go? No—any injuries?"
"Wrapped up sooner than expected. Body's fine, see!"
Bijong flexed his arm muscles for emphasis.
"...Says the guy who played it cool last time, then screamed in pain from his sprained leg at night?"
Yurin chided softly; Bijong looked sheepish, head down.
He looked like a rain-soaked puppy—drawing a wry smile from her.
"That's exactly why."
Her voice was quiet, but sincere.
"...Thanks for coming back safe again."
Bijong set the load down, turned to face her squarely.
"No biggie. Thanks to you—for waiting like always."
No more words needed between them.
Amid the bustling crowd's noise, their moment flowed quietly.
"Hey, this is heavy though? How strong are you? Arms thicker than mine?"
"Bijong! You always ruin the mood like this!"
Thwack!
Her fist nailed his solar plexus dead-on.
He staggered—bandits with iron clubs and axes couldn't faze him, but her single strike messed his step.
The awkward vibe prompted his joke to shake it off. But at this cost? No repeats.
Clutching the nearly spilled load, he stifled his wince, following her huffing stride ahead.
"Iron Boy! Hurry up—making your favorite rolled omelet tonight!"
Sudden role-play; mood shift lightning-fast.
"Yes, ma'am."
He straightened quick, trailing her back.
"...But seriously, have I gained weight? Arms especially."
Oh crap, this'll drag on.
Regretting past quips, Bijong forced a bitter smile, bracing for torment ahead.
*
"Heh heh."
"Heh heh heh."
From a market corner, a merchant uncle and I spied on the couple's sweet bickering like any pair.
"Mom, those scary muscle guys over there look creepy!"
"Don't look at trash like that!"
Passersby's whispers? Ignored—we'd caught gold.
Childhood friend pure love—top tier.
You don't know till you live it, right?
Now a victim myself, I pondered "pure love" deeper.
Its precious weight? I got it better than anyone now.
"Not too sweet?"
"Nah, like watching my old self—teeth rotting already. Boo hoo."
Strangers bonding, we shared reviews of the noble scene.
"Pure love is sacred law."
"Amen, uncle. We click somehow?"
"Yeah. Craving Sichuan's famed Raksu Ondorak today."
Nodding in sync, our eyes met.
Instant like from first glance—this guy's cool.
But mid-chat, his gaze scanned me; heavy silence fell.
Brows furrowed, he asked:
"Your build's impressive. ...Martial artist?"
"Huh?"
Why that out of nowhere?
Martial worlder? Like the nationality chat before—philosophical dilemma.
Am I? Origins yes. No skills though—exiled too.
Plus, I'm "temporarily" under Zhejiang's commander. Soldiers and murim folk are worlds apart.
"Nah, military. From Zhejiang."
"...Military?"
Not murim, but army? His face hardened differently.
What'd I say wrong?
Oh right. Jiangsu's mess explains it. Tax complainer type?
'Taxes wasted on scum like you! Get the boss!'
'...I'm the boss.'
'Sass me? Wanna taste the complaint desk?'
Quick clarification—fine if I screw up, but not taking heat for others.
"Zhejiang's commander sent me to aid Jiangsu against pirates. Arrived the day before yesterday. Nice to meet you—Yujin."
Smile wide—can't spit on a grin. Shook his hand firmly.
"Zhejiang commander... ah."
My effort worked? His stiffness melted; he gripped back.
"Heard rumors. Army hotshot 'Artillery Master'—pirates won't dare Zhejiang now."
Familiar ring. Embarrassing to claim: That's me.
Misreading my face as modesty, he elaborated.
"Literal: guy firing cannons, godly—holds heavy artillery barehanded, no brace, tanks recoil like a monster."
Staring intently. Ah, not explaining—he meant that's you, right?
How to play it? As I fidgeted, he chuckled knowingly.
"Anyway, welcome to Jiangsu. Late intro—Gwakssi, small-time Suzhou innkeeper."
"Pleasure. 'Artillery Master' Yujin—let's get along."
Wariness gone; firm handshake. Back to gushing over the scene.
"Height-gap couples got that irresistible charm, right?"
"Totally."
Great connection ahead.
Pure love bros? Always welcome.
"Next time, drinks on me. Heard of Raksu Ondorak? Hot Sichuan import—huge now!"
Short chat after; he pitched wares, cheap deals anytime.
Wrapping up, I headed back to the inn.
. . .
But not mutual.
He suppressed a faint red glint in his eyes.
Unlike Yujin’s budding friendship, Gwakssi pondered deeply—then called into the shadows.
"Hey, Yeopssi. You listening?"
"Been here awhile."
"Chance encounter sparked this. New variable."
"...Got it. I'll keep eyes on him."
At his order, Yeopssi melted into the crowd.
Tailing the "Artillery Master."
Gwakssi hardened, sorting thoughts.
Threat or ally?
Early intel: no big issue. Rep solid; chat vibes good.
But too soon. For success, need solid info—proceed cautiously.
"Uncle, need a bolt of hemp."
"Welcome!"
A matron's call snapped him back; grim face vanished into a grin.
Hiding depths, he resumed as affable Suzhou merchant Gwakssi.
Nothing more. Just a likeable stall owner in the market.