The Jade Qilin Has No Friends
Kaifeng was just around the corner. “Wow, it’s been ages since I took a walk with my little brother. Don’t you think we should do this more often? I raised you, you know. You could at least link arms with me first like a proper gentleman.”
Paeng Cho-ryeo, who had just returned from outside the city riding the carriage she had prepared, wore an extremely satisfied expression. To Paeng Cho-ryeo, her younger brother Paeng Daesan was far more son than sibling—an adopted little brother who leaned heavily toward the “son” side of the spectrum.
“Cho-ryeo, are you alright?”
“Of course. I finally got to stroll arm-in-arm with my stiff-as-a-board little brother for the first time. Our grown-up Daesan… I think it’s time to let him go. When did he get so big and grumpy that he’s not even cute anymore? Hmm. Though to be fair, he wasn’t particularly cute as a kid either.”
Paeng Cho-ryeo’s half-joking, half-sincere remark made Paeng Daesan’s eyebrows twitch. But since every word was true, he had no shame to refute it with and could only keep twitching his brows.
Stiff attitude? Check. First time linking arms? Check. Grumpy and lacking cuteness? Check. Same when he was little? Check. Every single item was an undeniable truth.
“San, you should treat your sister better too. Where else in the world would you find a sister like her?”
“As expected, there’s only our Cheong. We really need to bring in a girl like this—no, a sister-in-law. How about you become my little sister instead, Cheong?”
The term “jemye” was a formal title in the Central Plains for how a woman addressed her younger brother’s wife. Among close acquaintances, they simply called each other “sister.” This was Paeng Cho-ryeo’s sneaky attempt to wedge herself into the family, but Cheong was completely oblivious to these subtle female relationship maneuvers. That was exactly what made women so terrifying.
Paeng Cho-ryeo would gradually start calling her “little sister” in private, and eventually even in public settings, effectively tying her to her brother in front of everyone. An uncomfortable Paeng Daesan quickly changed the subject.
“Ahem. Anyway, I plan to leave for Kaifeng tonight.”
“Tonight? When?”
“Around the Hour of the Ox.”
The Hour of the Ox meant two in the morning for Cheong. The twelve double-hours were named after the twelve earthly branches—Zi, Chou, Yin, Mao, Chen, Si, Wu, Wei, Shen, You, Xu, Hai—each representing two hours. The exact center of the first one, Zi, was called midnight, and each subsequent period added two hours. It wasn’t that complicated.
As a side note, noon was likewise the exact center of the Hour of the Horse, but why the names got flipped around was supposedly due to some yin-yang principle or other. In the end it just messed up uniformity for no good reason, which pretty much summed up the level of the Central Plains.
“Huh? The Hour of the Ox? Why leave in the middle of the night?”
“I can’t stand looking at those beggars anymore. Somehow they’re getting even more repulsive by the day.”
“Fair enough. You really do suffer a lot. Then I guess I’ll see you in Kaifeng. You know Jegal and Nan-a, right? Let them know I’m doing fine and send my regards.”
Paeng Daesan’s eyebrows twitched.
“What are you talking about? You’re not coming?”
“Me? I was planning to take it slow and rest a bit. Was I supposed to go too? Then who else is coming with us?”
“Well, obviously—” Paeng Daesan froze mid-sentence. He had been about to say “Obviously just the two of us—who else?” but once the words reached his mouth, they suddenly sounded incredibly strange.
“Cho-ryeo, are you coming too?”
“Me? I’d love to, but one of us has to stay behind to entertain the guests. If both children run off, what would the Moyong family think? They’d probably assume we sent them because we didn’t want to see our kids hanging out together and hold it against us.”
“Eh? So it’s just the two of us? San, is that true?”
Paeng Daesan felt a profound sense of injustice. Cheong treated him with the casualness of someone of the same sex, without the slightest reservation. Hadn’t she, just last night, casually told him to turn around, stripped off her clothes without a second thought, and wiped herself down? All while chattering away about everything and nothing.
Yet the moment he brought it up, she acted like it was some big deal that they’d be traveling alone. Was she only a woman when it was convenient for her?
“Why are you making that face? Is there a problem?”
“No, it’s just… leaving suddenly tonight when we could have gone tomorrow or the day after. Can’t we leave tomorrow? And don’t you dare say ‘tomorrow’ when the Hour of the Ox is already past midnight.”
Of course, Cheong had no ulterior motives. She simply didn’t want to rush when they had a generous schedule ahead. At that, even Paeng Daesan’s energy drained away. So she just wanted to laze around?
But for some reason, that realization made his insides bubble and seethe with irritation.
“You don’t have anything else to do anyway besides rolling around, do you?”
“Well, I was thinking of dropping by A-Jun’s place.”
“A-Jun? Who’s that?”
“Ah. Moyong Jun. There’s this little kid about this tall. You have to tease him while you have the chance,” Cheong said with a sly grin.
Paeng Daesan’s eyebrows twitched again.
“If we delay any longer, someone else might start bothering us. We can’t have that. There’s that Sword Flower woman, Elder Jo, and even his younger sibling. I’m leaving. You can either follow or stay behind and abandon your friend to go play with that Moyong family kid. Your choice.”
“Eh? What kind of false dichotomy is that? I didn’t think you were the type, San, but you’ve got a surprisingly childish side—wait, no. You’ve always been completely childish. Yeah, that tracks.”
Come to think of it, he only spoke curtly and tried to act dignified. From the very first meeting, hadn’t he been blatantly childish? “Hit me, hit me, can you even hit me?” he’d practically begged, so she’d given him a good smack.
“What? Childish? Watch your mouth.”
“People only lash out when they’re hit where it hurts, you know? Sigh. What can I do? Our poor friendless San needs me to go with him. A-Jun probably has plenty of friends anyway, so he won’t miss me.”
“Hah. Friendless? Me?”
“Obviously. Who are your friends? Name them.”
“Hmph. You think I can’t? First of all—” Paeng Daesan froze.
First of all… what? Geomchi? No. That Jegal chatterbox was friendly with everyone, calling people older brother or sister left and right, but there was no real personal connection. Elder Jo was horrifying. Elder Changbin and Elder Hwangbo were too senior to call friends. And as for the other young elites from the Hidden Dragon Tournament, they were just people he ate with occasionally. There wasn’t a single one he could call a friend without reservation.
Did I… really have no friends?
The sudden realization hit Paeng Daesan like a thunderbolt, leaving him frozen in place.
“See? There’s only one—Lady Seomun Cheong.”
“Pfft. Then you’re the one who—”
“Want me to name them? Think you can handle it?”
Cheong curled only one corner of her lip into an incredibly irritating, crooked smirk.
“Never mind. I’ll go alone. You go enjoy your wonderful friends.”
“What? Are you sulking?”
“Hah. Forget it.”
Cheong’s eyes narrowed into slits. This little punk. He really is sulking.
“Aww, come on. San. The great Seomun Cheong would never abandon righteousness like that. How could I let my friend set off on a lonely journey alone? Getting all upset over a little joke.”
“I’m not upset.”
“Really? You sure? You weren’t upset that your friend wasn’t coming with you?”
Cheong poked Paeng Daesan’s side with her elbow as she asked. As expected, Paeng Daesan exploded.
“Hey! How can a woman be so shameless? Don’t you have any common sense at all?”
“Aww, what’s wrong with friends being like this?”
Watching the two bicker, Paeng Cho-ryeo smiled quietly and slipped away.
---
The martial families of the Central Plains were as diverse as their surnames. This was because local clans that already held significant power simply adopted more impressive names. Among them, the most famous five were called the Five Great Clans. Then, to match the number with the Nine Great Sects, five more were added to create the Ten Great Clans.
Among them had once been the Jinju Eon Clan, but no longer. (Though one should probably ask Eon Yeonyeong’s opinion on that.) With one seat now vacant, it needed to be filled. For the powerful local families who had boasted that they were at least comparable to the additional five clans if not the Five Great Clans, this was an unprecedented opportunity.
And among them was one clan with a truly peculiar surname.
The Gongsun-Gong Clan.
The surname Gongsun belonged to the first emperor of humanity and the greatest sage of the Central Plains. This clan claimed to be descendants of that exalted primordial ancestor, Emperor Gongsun Xuanyuan. Whether it was true or not, it remained a claim. However, such a claim could be tied to treason. After being thoroughly crushed once long ago, they were forced to change their surname. They dropped “Gongsun” and kept only “Gong.”
Still, unable to abandon their clan identity, they used a unique loophole: every member’s given name began with the character “Son” (from Gongsun), and all names consisted of exactly three characters. In this way they preserved “Gongsun” in spirit, and their clan name “Gongsun-Gong” carried both the pain of that history and their unyielding commitment to their identity.
Thus spoke the current head, Gongsun Daewol—whose real name was Gong Daewol.
The time has finally come for our clan’s long-cherished wish to come within reach. Since the government is nothing but a puppet, once we secure a name among the Ten Great Clans and bind ourselves to them, who could possibly stop us from restoring our exalted original surname?
The Ten Great Clans of the Central Plains were not simply ten families ranked from above. They represented a tightly knit network of personal connections—the greatest, most magnificent guanxi under heaven. It was both a long-cherished wish and an ambition to use that fence to change their name back to Gongsun.
“That is why your roles are crucial. You must display overwhelming prowess at the Hidden Dragon Tournament. Furthermore, you must secure allies for our clan by forming ties with influential women from either the Five Great Clans or the Nine Great Sects.”
“Yes, Father. Do not worry.”
“……Yes.”
“Good. I trust you both.”
---
“Do we really have to go this far? Can’t we just ride out in the carriage normally?”
Cheong, dressed like a servant, grumbled. Paeng Daesan, similarly attired in servant’s clothes, answered.
“You’re underestimating those persistent women.”
And so, deep in the night, past the Hour of the Ox, under cover of darkness, a man and woman quietly slipped out through the side gate of the Zhangyuan manor. With their faces buried low, staring only at the ground and taking small quick steps, they looked like servants to anyone watching.
As they brushed past, Cheong glanced around and finally understood what Paeng Daesan had meant.
Whoa. These women are seriously hardcore.
It went something like this:
A quiet moonlit night. Two people who happened to meet while strolling the night streets because they couldn’t sleep. The night was a creature of its own; unlike under the bright sun, hidden desires that only emerged in darkness reared their heads. (Or so the saying went at three in the morning.)
So what would a man and woman intoxicated by moonlight do in the dark? They’d lock eyes, lock lips, and with only their stomachs left, they’d press those together too…
In a way, it was actually quite clever. During the day, they were just one flower among countless others in a crowd. But at night, they could stand alone as a single woman. With such pure—bordering on brainless—imagination, they loitered in front of the main gate all night long. Thus, the Jade Qilin had no freedom day or night.
They climbed into the carriage waiting at the stable. Cheong flopped onto the luxurious, cushioned seat and buried her back deep into it.
“If it’s that annoying, why don’t you wear a face veil like me? My old man got it for me because he said all sorts of scoundrels kept swarming him.”
“What man wears a face veil?”
“Then at least pull your bamboo hat down low. Do they recognize you just from your jawline?”
“Hah. I’ve done nothing wrong. Why should I avoid them? Have you ever seen me shrink away from those women?”
Even when traveling with the Luoyang merchant caravan, or when journeying with the three of them and the Sword Friend, the Jade Qilin had never hidden from his pursuers. He had never deliberately chosen a private room while eating or made excuses to avoid going somewhere.
Then a thought suddenly occurred to her.
“Huh? Then what about now? Aren’t you avoiding them?”
“Hmm?” Paeng Daesan’s eyebrows twitched again. This time, however, the movement didn’t mean “I’m displeased” but rather “Huh, now that you mention it.”
“That’s…” Paeng Daesan tried to make an excuse but closed his mouth. Even thinking about it himself, this was clearly avoidance. He fell into confusion.
Why had he snuck out in the middle of the night like some guilty person? Those women had been acting like this for days, not just a day or two. There must be something particularly irritating about it this time.
But no matter how much he thought, nothing specific came to mind, leaving only a frustrating itch in his chest.
Then—
Gororong.Ssae-aek.
The strangely familiar sound of snoring, the cute noise the black dog raised by the clan made when it slept, snapped Paeng Daesan out of his thoughts. It was coming from Cheong, who had fallen asleep lying on the carriage seat.
“What the…”
Paeng Daesan was rendered speechless by the sight of the sleeping beauty.
One hand was flung over her eyes with her forearm, while the other dangled limply off the chair. One leg was bent high with the knee propped casually against the backrest, and the other leg hung off the seat with her sole planted on the floor.
It was a horrifyingly disgraceful sight that would have prompted Seomun Su-rin to unleash a nuclear fist of extreme fury in righteous indignation. They said when something was truly absurd, words failed you—and that certainly seemed to happen often in front of Cheong.
“Haa.”
At a complete loss for words, Paeng Daesan could only let out a long, deep sigh.