The Dragon-Phoenix Meet and the Persistent Suitor
Even before Cheong could enter the banquet hall of the Dragon-Phoenix Meet, a woman was already pacing restlessly near the entrance. The moment she spotted Cheong, her previously blank face came alive, blooming into a bright, bashful smile. Gongson Yoye approached Cheong at a hurried pace that somehow stopped just short of breaking into a run.
“Lady Seomun, are you well today as well? The weather is truly fine, is it not? On a cool day like today, on a day such as this… what do ordinary people usually do? I have only ever trained, so I know nothing else. I am truly sorry, I apologize, I—”
“Yes, calm down. What’s going on? Why are you like this again? I’m glad to see you too. You don’t have to put so much effort into greetings, so there’s no need to feel burdened.”
“Ah. That is… I have someone I would like to introduce to you. If it would not be too much trouble, might I dare ask whether you would permit such a thing? I earnestly hope you will graciously grant this humble request…”
What is this? She’s asking if it’s okay to ask? Why does it feel like she could loop that question infinitely?
When Cheong tilted her head in confusion, Gongson Yoye grew visibly anxious, carefully watching her reaction.
“Who is it?”
“It is this one’s foolish younger brother…”
“What? You had a brother? Where is he?”
“That would be… Cheon-il-ah.”
“Yes, Sister.”
At that, a young man stepped forward as if he had been waiting. His eyes, nose, and mouth were strikingly similar—so much so that the siblings looked almost identical. While Gongson Yoye’s plain, unadorned face was beautiful, her brother was a handsome young noble whose looks could easily set hearts aflame.
“I am Gongson Cheon-il. I have heard much about you from my sister. So you truly exist. I am deeply grateful that you have become friends with this stubborn wall of a person.”
Gongson Cheon-il’s greeting was theatrical—his gestures large, flamboyant, and perfectly measured. Even simple movements were performed with grand lines, making them appear refined and elegant.
“I-I told you she was real.”
“Hmph. Isn’t it basically a once-in-a-lifetime fortuitous encounter, like finding a divine manual hidden in a cave after falling off a cliff? In the end, you didn’t do anything, Sister. She’s practically your lifelong benefactor, isn’t she?”
“Ugh. I-I know that.”
Cheong tilted her head again. What is this? Something feels… off.
“Ah, my apologies. My sister is lacking in worldly experience. Please guide and instruct her well in the future.”
As he said this, he flashed her a charming smile. It was certainly pleasant to look at a handsome man smiling, but… wasn’t this guy clearly flirting?
Cheong decided to reserve judgment for now.
“Young Master Gongson!”
“It is Lady Yeon, I see. Have you reconciled with your friend?”
“Thanks to you! Um, so… if you have time, perhaps we could share a meal together…”
“Oh dear, I’m sorry.”
“Ah…”
“I should have extended the invitation first. It seems my lack of tact has forced you to speak such difficult words. Could you possibly forgive me?”
“Hup. Y-yes, then… n-next time…”
The woman called Lady Yeon turned bright red, failed to secure any actual promise, and staggered away in retreat.
After that, similar scenes repeated. Lady Cheon and Lady Yoon made their exits in much the same fashion, and when Lady San-yeong spotted Gongson Cheon-il and rushed over, she saw Cheong, hiccupped violently, and hurriedly withdrew.
This guy. His skill at stringing women along and then dropping them is no joke.
“Ah, Sword-Friend!”
“Oho. So you have arrived, Sword-Friend. Lady Gongson is here as well. Excellent. Let us enjoy another delightful spar today.”
“Later. I haven’t even eaten yet. Oh, right. This is Gongson Cheon-il, Lady Gongson’s younger brother. This is my Sword-Friend, also known as the Sword Idiot. Namgung Sinjae.”
“The Young Sword King of the Namgung Clan, Great Hero Namgung Sinjae!”
Isn’t his admiration lasting a bit too long?
“Haha, I have decided to change my title from Young Sword King to Passionate Sword Hero. I would be grateful if you called me Passionate Sword Hero instead.”
If the Sword King heard this, he would probably say something like, “This brat who won’t even accept his father’s title deserves another bottle of liquor added to his tab.” The Sword King’s drinking seemed to increase by the day. One had to wonder if his liver was truly alright.
“Passionate Sword Hero! What a title that makes one’s blood boil just hearing it. Might I ask its origin?”
“It was given by the Sword-Friend beside you, who was moved by my burning passion for the sword. I was so touched by something I had never heard before that I decided to make it my lifelong title.”
“Usually titles aren’t given by the person themselves…”
“But it was given by my Sword-Friend. You are also a sect leader-level senior, so you are more than qualified.”
“Speaking of sparring, though…”
“Why? Is your blood boiling? Then let’s go right now.”
“No. I’m hungry. I woke up late and only grabbed a few rice balls.”
Rice balls, or juak, were steamed glutinous rice wrapped in bamboo leaves. They were characteristically shaped like triangular pyramids. The fillings varied—some were savory with meat, others sweet with red bean paste.
“How many? Exactly how many?”
“The ones with lamb, goat, chicken, and duck egg were delicious. The red bean ones were a bit too sweet, so they didn’t really feel filling.”
“You ate five from the morning and you’re still hungry?”
“No, six. The duck egg ones were so good I ate two.”
Namgung Sinjae’s expression darkened. Then, in a voice full of concern, he asked,
“Are you alright? If you’re still hungry after eating that much, there must be something wrong with your body. You should see a physician and have your pulse checked immediately.”
Two large rice balls were equivalent to one full bowl of rice. Eating six of them and still being hungry was bizarre enough to make even a pig feel ashamed and cut back on its gluttony.
“Nana always checks on me. She says I’m healthy. But even she doesn’t know why I eat so much.”
“Lady Seomun, please do not worry. A great appetite is one of the three blessings of the body. Is it not truly a fortunate thing?”
“Ah. Thank you for saying that. Somehow everyone keeps scolding me for eating too much…”
They eventually found seats at a table. Just as Cheong was about to sit down—
“My lady. Pardon me for a moment. Here.”
Gongson Cheon-il smoothly placed a handkerchief on her chair.
“Young Master Gongson? Are you always this courteous to women? It could easily lead to misunderstandings, so you should be careful.”
“Misunderstandings, you say? My lady, do you truly believe it would be a misunderstanding?”
He flashed another bright smile. At that, Cheong became certain.
Ah. This wasn’t just my imagination. This guy is definitely hitting on me right now.
I wear a face veil for exactly this reason. Wait… I am wearing a face veil, right?
Gongson Yoye still had not seen Cheong’s bare face. In the martial world, it was common sense that women who covered their faces had their reasons. And given how Gongson Yoye already forgot how to breathe or slipped into archaic court speech whenever she tried to ask for a favor, it seemed impossible she would ever dare ask to see Cheong’s face.
Still, it felt strange to be friends with someone who had never seen your face. Cheong had planned to invite her up to the seventh floor of Mucheon Pavilion today since she was bored and show her.
“Young Master Gongson. That won’t do. You shouldn’t tease a woman whose face you haven’t even seen.”
“What use is appearance? My sister spent all last night singing your praises until late. Is it so strange that I would develop feelings of admiration for such character?”
Cheong’s head turned toward Gongson Yoye. The girl had bowed her head deeply, but her ears were burning bright red. There was no need to ask for confirmation.
“I appreciate your feelings, Young Master, but I have personal circumstances that make me uninterested in matters between men and women. I hope you find another fine lady.”
“Is that so? However, a person’s heart does not simply leave just because one decides to fold it away. I shall simply keep it in my chest, so please do not feel burdened. I only ask that you remember me if your heart should ever change.”
Eugh.
Cheong made a face of utter disgust. One advantage of the face veil was that no one could tell what expression she was making.
After finishing the meal, when Cheong said she was going up to the seventh floor, Gongson Yoye looked deeply apologetic.
“Lady Seomun, um, I’m sorry. It was my fault for speaking out of turn. I told him I wanted to treat you like a real older sister and live as family, and he said if that was my wish then… I really didn’t expect him to act like that, so please don’t feel upset or displeased, I beg you with my broad—”
“Calm down. Still… your brother is quite nice, I suppose. Trying to make his sister’s friend part of the family by courting a woman whose face he hasn’t even seen. Wait. Is that nice? Or is it actually terrible?”
Cheong was genuinely confused.
After escaping the aggressively forward friend’s brother and reaching the seventh floor, the noisy atmosphere seemed to die down a bit. Since Cheong didn’t particularly care, she scanned the room with sparkling eyes.
Where are the lilies? Lilies! Where is the pioneer of outrageous fashion, Teacher Jin Seol?
Jin Seol was one of the Five Flowers of Murim and possessed stunning beauty. Even without her distinctive clothing, her face alone was dazzling enough to spot easily. Unfortunately, it seemed the lily had not come today.
Still, there were two other women who caught the eye. One was Moyong Juhee on that side, and on the opposite side was an unfamiliar beauty.
Since Cheong usually had someone nearby to explain things, a question slipped out almost like a mutter.
“Hmm? Who is that?”
“Indeed. I wonder who she might be?”
Unfortunately, Gongson Yoye was even more clueless about Murim than Cheong. She was a complete beginner—not just to Murim, but to the entire martial world. Two idiots together meant four eyes that still recognized absolutely no one.
It was then—
“Oh my, Lady Seomun!”
Someone greeted her warmly. When Cheong turned, she was stunned. Moyong Juhee was walking toward her with a bright smile.
What? There’s no way she would welcome me.
Was she actually that much of a great hero? Or perhaps a lady whose heart is as big as her chest is flat?
“I was terribly rude to you yesterday. After thinking it over, I realized it was entirely my fault. I promised myself that if we met again, I must apologize properly.”
“It’s fine. We agreed to let it go, didn’t we?”
“Does that mean the incident never happened? We are both female martial artists. I thought it would be proper for us to have a drink together and clear away any lingering resentment like true warriors. What do you say?”
What? Is she challenging me to a fight?
Does she think she can win with a sword?
As Cheong was thinking this, Moyong Juhee continued.
“By any chance… do you enjoy drinking? Since ancient times, heroes have dissolved all their frustrations and grievances in wine. Isn’t that the way of martial artists? So please, don’t refuse. Shall we drink together and become good friends? Yes?”
“Alcohol. I like alcohol.”
The answer shot out from Cheong’s spine rather than her brain.
Moyong Juhee’s name used the characters for “jewel” and “beautiful woman.” However, the “beautiful woman” character was not the usual one for “woman” but a respectful title used for highborn ladies. The Sinnyeo Sect worshipped the Goddess of Wushan, whose name was Yaoji. In the past, an emperor’s daughter was called “royal beauty,” and the old term for princess was “royal beauty” as well. The character for “beautiful woman” was considered more elegant and lovely than the common one for “woman.”
However, her close friends claimed that the correct character was not “jewel” but the one for “wine.”
This was because Moyong Juhee was a legendary drinker.
When people said someone had a “horse’s capacity” for alcohol, it meant they could drink an entire horse’s worth. In Cheong’s hometown terms, that was roughly eighteen liters—equivalent to about thirty and a half grande-sized iced Americanos, the traditional dark-roasted bean beverage of her people. That was what it meant to have a horse’s capacity.
The people of the Central Plains had long believed that one’s liver’s ability to detoxify alcohol was proportional to one’s character. Of course, this only applied to men. If a woman drank like a horse, people would sneer that she was the type to make mistakes while drunk. Thus, a woman’s liver was considered rather useless. This was also why the monsters in folktales always targeted men’s livers and left women alone.
However, Moyong Juhee was not the kind of female warrior who would rise up in indignation against male supremacy, denounce its filthy ideology, and attempt to flip the rotten world on its head. (There was a separate warrior for that.)
Women make mistakes when they drink? Then if you made them drink, wouldn’t that mean they would make proper mistakes?