Princess Nakhong, Ju Geum-ye
"...How intriguing. So it's not some trifling midday tale. To think someone could spin a murim story with such captivating flair?"
It was an opulently adorned hall. Amid the lavish furnishings, a gorgeously decorated crown atop the table drew the eye, but it was the stern gaze of the man flipping through the book's pages that shone with profound interest.
He set the book down for a moment and stroked his beard. His eyes turned toward the woman in red robes seated across from him, sipping from her teacup.
"What do you make of it?"
"It's too finely crafted to dismiss as mere drivel."
"Hmm. Indeed. It's hard to imagine a murim denizen penned this. Clearly the work of someone apart from those barbaric brutes."
"Yet a wild man all the same."
"Or perhaps a recluse in the wilderness."
The woman in red gave a faint smile.
"A true recluse would channel his erudition into proper scholarship, not scribble such tales."
"Quite resolute."
"But there's no denying his intrigue."
Murim tales rarely breach the walls of the Nine Heavens Palace. So the saying goes. Yet the imperial palace—known by that lofty name—kept its vigilant gaze ever fixed on the jianghu, never once averting its eyes.
For those who had followed the founding emperor to war and forged the realm with merit were men of heaven-shaking intellect and earth-rending might, their prowess enough to threaten the throne itself.
Outlaws wielding martial prowess like a rogue wave. Some whispered the imperial house feared them and thus turned a blind eye—but that wasn't entirely true.
"He'll prove essential for reining in murim, Father."
"For now, the Central Plains merely stirs, but I've heard subtle shifts brewing among the martial factions."
The man's stern face returned to the woman in red as he spoke.
"Look into it."
"Yes."
"Atchoo!"
"Baek-sensei, you sure you didn't catch a real cold? Shall I brew some ganggeun-cha—ginger tea?"
Baek Su-gyeong shook his head at Gal Ye-ryeong's words. Ginger tea worked wonders for colds, but its sharp bite wasn't to his taste. He'd never been fond of the plant itself, and that hadn't changed.
Cinnamon was even less worth mentioning.
"I've rested plenty. Time to prepare for the trip back to Wuan."
"Isn't staying in Luoyang the best option? The Director will be disappointed."
Indeed, Yi Jeon-hyo went to great lengths to keep him there—artfully changing the subject whenever Baek Su-gyeong broached returning to Wuan. Thanks to that, he'd been stuck in Luoyang for nearly a month.
"It's not comfortable for me. Besides, November's almost here. Luoyang's chill is no joke. Gal or Nangong might manage, but not me or So the troupe leader."
"That's what comes of not knowing martial arts."
Baek Su-gyeong chuckled wryly at Gal Ye-ryeong's remark.
"At my age, no point learning something like the Three Disasters Sword. What's the use debating martial prowess?"
"Well, fair enough."
Gal Ye-ryeong was an odd one. She called him "Baek-sensei" yet tacked on polite endings. If she was going casual, she might as well drop the formalities like she did with Nangong So-min or So Ssaang-a.
But meddling in a woman's whims rarely ended well, so Baek Su-gyeong held his tongue.
November loomed. The Double Ninth Festival had passed, and with no more business in Luoyang, heading back to Wuan made sense.
"Director!"
"So troupe leader. Good morning."
"Slept well?"
"A bit sniffly, but nothing major."
"I got some ginger tea."
"Oh no, not ginger tea again? No cinnamon mixed in, I hope?"
As Baek Su-gyeong grimaced, So Ssaang-a laughed. She'd noticed his sniffles early and fetched ginger and cinnamon daily to brew for him, leaving him shuddering at the mere mention.
"You really hate ginger tea, Director."
"Can't stand that pungent flavor. Same with cinnamon. How'd things go with the Director?"
At his question, So Ssaang-a beamed.
"Great! He pulled strings to let us open a branch here under the Yongmun name. Conceded plenty on other points too."
"Excellent. Gyeongun Merchant Group's momentum will surge."
Truth be told, it was all thanks to Baek Su-gyeong's presence. Without that connection, Yi Jeon-hyo's favor was unlikely, and even stepping foot in Yongmun Escort Bureau would've been tough.
Luoyang was Yongmun's stronghold. Rival merchants balked at expanding there. Even the mighty Cheonryong Merchant Group among the Ten Great Central Plains Merchants hesitated to open a branch.
Some jested Yongmun's sway in Luoyang rivaled the emperor's.
"All the more reason to stay vigilant. With Black Brush Party's pirate copies still rampant..."
"Best to form a dedicated anti-piracy merchant group or renegotiate contracts. If new releases flop because of those bastards, it affects me too. See to it."
"Of course. I'll take your advice to heart, Director."
Gal Ye-ryeong eyed So Ssaang-a chatting cozily with Baek Su-gyeong, her face sour.
Look at that vixen. Using her role handling Wudang Sword Hero sales to hog Baek-sensei?
Sensing the glare, So Ssaang-a smiled back.
"Something to say, Gal?"
"Don't act chummy."
As bickering loomed, Baek Su-gyeong firmly stepped between them.
"Fight again, and you're both out."
"As if."
"Hee-hee, fight? Just friendly rivalry."
Baek Su-gyeong sighed at Gal Ye-ryeong's smug grin and So Ssaang-a's glare.
Anyone could see the competition among Nangong So-min, Gal Ye-ryeong, and So Ssaang-a, all orbiting him.
Overflowing bliss? Or the start of 5.7 quadrillion shards of headache?
What a headache. Romance had always been distant for him.
A servant's voice reached his ear.
"Master Baek, the lord calls. To Yongmun Pavilion..."
"On my way. Gal, So troupe leader—see you later."
Yongmun Pavilion was the heart of Yongmun Escort Bureau. "Yongmun"—dragon gate—evoked the bureau's golden carp emblem, boldly carved above the entrance threshold, commanding attention.
The gate symbolized Luoyang's premier house, the carp on the lintel welcoming guests. Cross that gate, and the carp became a dragon.
Glancing back past the proudly inscribed pavilion revealed the carp transformed into a golden dragon—a variant of the legendary fish-to-dragon motif.
Beyond the entrance stood stern Yongmun warriors on guard. Only after passing them did Baek Su-gyeong meet Yi Jeon-hyo, waiting with a woman in red robes he'd never seen.
"You summoned me, Director?"
"Come in, Master Baek."
Yi Jeon-hyo's face was off—lacking his usual boldness, his voice faintly trembling. Was this the same man?
Hiding his puzzlement, Baek Su-gyeong halted as the woman in red spoke.
"You're Su-gyeong-sensei, Baek Su-gyeong?"
"...Yes."
Her aura was utterly un-murim: elegance in every gesture, nobility in her poise. Her soft, flowing voice needed no raising; her milk-white skin paired flawlessly with her crimson robes, amplifying her allure.
But before beauty or mystery, Baek Su-gyeong felt psychological pressure.
She knew him? Who was she?
And the Director's fawning like that? First time I've seen it.
The ever-bold Yi Jeon-hyo shrank like in winter's bite.
Who commanded such caution from him?
The woman's voice pierced like an arrow.
"I'm Ju Geum-ye."
Baek Su-gyeong's face turned to stone.
The Ju clan ruled the Central Plains—the imperial bloodline. Why was royalty from the capital in Luoyang, of all places, in Yongmun's core?
Clink.
Ju Geum-ye's teacup hit the table like thunder, shattering his composure. His nape tingled.
Stunned speechless, Yi Jeon-hyo spoke to his frozen face.
"Don't be too shocked. This is His Majesty's precious daughter, Princess Nakhong. Mind your manners."
That clincher bleached Baek Su-gyeong's mind white. A princess? Why? The question floated blankly.
Sure, imperial figures popped up in wuxia tales, but so abruptly?
"I came to meet you, Baek Su-gyeong."
A flower-like smile bloomed on Ju Geum-ye's lips.