The Pull of Destiny
Under the blazing midsummer sun that baked the merchant compound’s grounds, the sound of a blade scraping ice filled the air.
Scrape. Scrape.
I was slicing thin shavings from a block of ice frozen solid by the Ten-thousand-year Ice Essence, working it carefully with a carving knife. A pale, misty edge of blade qi clung to the tip, and the pure white, translucent ice powder piled modestly into the bowls.
Everyone gathered in the main hall watched the unbelievable scene as if their souls had left their bodies—Eun Hwaran, who had been fanning herself nonstop against the heat, my office subordinates, and even Steward Jin. Ilhong, who actually understood the true value of this spiritual medicine that had crossed the sea and the snowy mountains, simply stared at my use of the Ten-thousand-year Ice Essence and lost all words.
“Boss… are you seriously using that legendary northern treasure to make frozen desserts…?”
She had been training under Hwang Geolgae in the scorching sun when she was suddenly dragged here, only to find a cold dessert being prepared right in front of her. The whole thing clearly left her a little dumbfounded.
“Then don’t eat any.”
I answered flatly and let thick honey drip over the ice I had ground as soft as snowflakes. Next came red beans, soybean flour, and chewy pieces of white rice cake, finished off like the final stroke of a masterpiece. One last spoonful of apple-scented fruit syrup, and the main hall was instantly filled with a sweet fragrance.
“I never said I wouldn’t eat it…”
Ilhong swallowed hard. Her gaze was already locked on the finished dessert. Apparently she had just wanted to complain that I was wasting a spiritual treasure and blade qi.
“My little brother, may this sister have a taste?”
“Of course. Go right ahead.”
Eun Hwaran and the others in the hall carefully lifted their spoons and collapsed the peaks of the shaved ice. The moment the first bite melted in their mouths, their expressions shifted—first the shock of cold, then the joy of something melting away, and finally pure bliss that lit up their entire faces.
“Ahh, this is truly…”
“Delicious beyond words.”
“I never knew midsummer ice desserts could be this wonderful.”
A wave of envy and longing passed through the group as they imagined the high officials of the Imperial Palace, with their stone ice cellars, enjoying this pleasure even in the height of summer. Steward Jin looked thoroughly satisfied as well. Even the newly arrived chef seemed ready to accept this new delicacy.
In the sweltering heat of midsummer, demand for ice needed no explanation. The reaction was pure rave reviews, exactly as expected.
“Harang, you’re not eating?”
I looked at Jo Harang, who sat with a spoon in hand yet lost in thought. For someone with her legendary appetite to ignore a luxurious bowl of shaved ice topped with red beans, rice cakes, honey, and fruit syrup—something was definitely off.
“Huh? Oh, right. Thanks. I’ll dig in.”
Jo Harang startled and snapped back to reality. Ever since we returned from the North Sea Ice Palace she had often drifted like this, staring into the distance, sometimes even casting complicated looks my way.
What’s gotten into her?
Maybe the shock of getting knocked out twice by Jeok-il’s casual finger flicks in the ice cave still lingered. The opponent had been a transcendent being beyond ordinary reach; there was no real reason to dwell on it.
“Young Master Dan, what is the name of this ice dessert that melts so beautifully in the mouth?”
Steward Jin asked, eyes already smelling profit.
“Red bean shaved ice.”
In ancient China they had once crushed ice, mixed it with honey and fruit juices, and called it honey-sand ice. With the relentless passage of years, that tradition seemed to have completely died out.
“Mujin… is it really okay to use a northern treasure like this…?”
Jo Harang, now more present, asked almost the same question Ilhong had. When her hair got in the way of eating, she tucked the glossy black strands behind her ear.
“What’s the problem? It’s not like it wears out. Sticking it deep in a warehouse forever is pointless.”
The thing never melted anyway. Treasures like this were meant to be taken out and used, not worshipped like ancestral tablets.
I pressed the special North Sea Ice Palace wooden case against my neck as I explained. The Ten-thousand-year Ice Essence, once carefully enshrined in the north, had been demoted the moment it reached Beijing to a portable air conditioner and walking freezer. The chill touched my skin and sent a pleasant shiver through my whole body.
“Ahh, that’s nice and cool.”
With this, this year’s summer would be no problem at all. Until I sold it back to the North Sea Ice Palace, I planned to squeeze every last bit of value out of it—beating the heat and making money at the same time.
“My little brother has truly become a merchant.”
Eun Hwaran looked pleased by my attitude, already scheming to recruit me as the next head of the merchant group whenever she got the chance.
“The demand looks solid, but when it comes to turning it into a proper product, I can already see a few problems…”
In the Central Plains, the only people who could enjoy ice even in midsummer were the precious few members of the imperial family in Beijing. I had heard they could pull ice from specially designed stone ice cellars until early summer to beat the heat.
“Exactly. Even in a city overflowing with the rich like Beijing, only a tiny handful can enjoy that luxury. Once ice like this starts being supplied, its value will skyrocket.”
The head of the Eunseong Merchant Group nodded in agreement at my proposal, which already had the North Sea Ice Palace’s profits in mind.
“They’ll open their wallets without hesitation. After all, money alone couldn’t buy this before… But for a full-scale business, the supply seems a bit short…”
True to her position, she checked both demand and supply issues thoroughly. The Eunseong Merchant Group had neither a stone ice cellar nor imperial permission.
“No need. Bring a few people from the North Sea Ice Palace and the problem’s solved.”
I mentioned the Ice White Divine Palm masters who radiated extreme cold from their entire bodies—and the fact that they were currently desperate for money while trying to restore the palace’s finances. She listened with growing interest, clearly catching the scent of a new business opportunity.
“They may not have Ten-thousand-year Ice Essence, but they do have a few five-hundred-year or thousand-year ice crystals. Those people can stay permanently in the Central Plains and keep the crystals from melting with their extreme yin energy.”
If it worked out, it would be the perfect win-win. The sooner the North Sea Ice Palace people made money, the sooner they could buy my Ten-thousand-year Ice Essence back at a high price. And Seol Soyeong, who shared a deep bond with me through the shared knowledge of a limited lifespan, would once again obtain a yin-filled spiritual medicine and reach even greater heights.
If the deal went through, people from the North Sea Ice Palace would be coming and going through Beijing for a while.
“Should I deliver some of this shaved ice to Ju Wolay too?”
When I muttered that, Ilhong pouted.
“Why her again?”
“She’s a neighbor now. When something delicious turns up, you share it with the neighbors.”
Eun Hwaran, sitting beside us, immediately agreed.
“Good idea. High-ranking people constantly come and go at Cheonhwaru, so word spreads faster there than anywhere else in Beijing.”
See? My sister was a seasoned merchant; she understood the real meaning right away. With both of us aligned, Ilhong just sulked and shoveled more shaved ice into her mouth.
“Harang, your ice is melting.”
“Ah!”
I gave Jo Harang a look of mild surprise. I had provided the perfect sweet frozen dessert that women usually went crazy for, yet her mind was still somewhere else. Something was definitely going on. I would have to ask her later.
With that, I wrapped up a successful product demonstration.
A heavy silence hung over the Beijing branch of the Beggar Sect.
In a room lit by a flickering oil lamp, haggard-faced men sat gathered. News from the Imperial Palace about the Crown Prince’s recovery was important, of course, but right now these men were dealing with something even more critical as members of the Central Plains martial world.
“Another beggar disciple is dead…?”
The voice of First Tiger Beggar, an elder of the Beggar Sect who was currently serving as interim Dragon Head Sect Leader, trembled. The wrinkles on his face seemed to have deepened even further.
Across from him, Five Knots disciple Park Chil nodded with a grim expression.
Beggar disciples planted as spies were dying one after another. In particular, their intelligence network that monitored the enemies of the Central Plains martial world—the Demonic Cult and the Blood Cult—was collapsing in real time across multiple locations.
The series of reports Park Chil brought made the meaning crystal clear. The minions of the demonic path, who had been lying low until now, had begun cutting off the branches of surveillance the Beggars had extended, preparing for some major move.
“Almost all contact has been lost with the disciples watching the Demonic Cult’s movements, Elder.”
They had believed their disguises perfect, yet the Demonic Cult was still the Demonic Cult. From the beginning they had probably known the spies were beggars and simply watched them… until they wiped them out all at once and completely blinded and deafened the Beggar Sect.
“Damn it… those weren’t the kind of people who should have died like that…”
First Tiger Beggar chewed on his dry, cracked lips. They had been true beggar heroes who threw themselves into the den of the Demonic Cult—a place no better than a death ground—solely for the safety of the Beggar Sect and the righteous martial world. They did not deserve to simply vanish like this.
“A painful loss.”
First Tiger Beggar’s sigh was heavy. How much more time and sacrifice would it take to raise such talent again and rebuild the intelligence network? Just as forgetting the Blood Cult had cost them dearly in Shaanxi, forgetting the Demonic Cult this time might bring an irreversible catastrophe. The Beggar Sect seemed to be paying the price first.
They had tried to keep watch while everyone else grew complacent, yet even that had not been enough.
“Elder First Tiger Beggar, what should we do now?”
Park Chil, whose standing within the branch had risen considerably of late, asked. First Tiger Beggar looked at him with a solemn face.
“If the Demonic Cult has truly begun to move… this is no longer something I can decide on my own.”
From that point on it could become a matter of the entire Central Plains martial world’s fate, so someone of matching stature had to step forward.
“Then who…?”
“Our leader, the Dragon Head Sect Leader himself, must show us the way.”
Park Chil looked puzzled.
“But the Dragon Head Sect Leader never listens to a word we say…”
No matter how hard they pleaded for him to return to the Beggar Sect, he had closed his ears and insisted he was the Mysterious Daoist, the Divine Wind Daoist. They had watched and waited, thinking it might be a severe side effect of heart demons and that he would eventually come back. But they might no longer have time to wait.
“There is still one method left.”
“Elder, what method…?”
“Fortunately, we have Young Master Dan Mujin, who stays close to him.”
Park Chil’s eyes regained their light. Unlike the other beggars who feared and revered the Dragon Head Sect Leader, Dan Mujin was the next generation of the Beggar Sect who stood up to him no matter how many times he got beaten or scolded, and always said exactly what needed to be said.
“Park Chil, deliver the message through him. At the very least, that should open his ears.”
And if even that failed, Young Master Dan Mujin would make sure the message got through by any means necessary. The young man seemed to possess an outstanding talent for getting under people’s skin—especially the Dragon Head Sect Leader’s.
“Yes. I’ll deliver it at once.”
Understanding the gravity of the situation, Park Chil bowed and hurried out of the Beijing branch.
Cicadas shrilled from every direction, reciting summer’s verses. A few days later the heat in the heart of Beijing had grown even more oppressive. The crowded center of the city felt like a living furnace whose heat never seemed to fade.
“Ahh, that feels good.”
In the middle of that furnace, Dan Mujin alone luxuriously enjoyed a cool chill, pressing the Ten-thousand-year Ice Essence against his body with an expression that said nothing could be more blissful.
“Who needs air conditioning?”
“…What even is that, Boss?”
Ilhong asked with a bored look, apparently having grown used to the sight of him handling a peerless spiritual treasure so casually.
“Something kids wouldn’t understand.”
“Come on, we’re only one year apart. How many times do I have to say it?”
Ilhong bristled at being treated like a child when she was already of marriageable age.
A short distance away, Jo Harang watched the bickering with her purple eyes, saying nothing. Perhaps sensing that steady gaze, Dan Mujin suddenly spoke to her.
“What, you want to use this too? Want me to lend it for a bit?”
He casually held out the wooden case of Ten-thousand-year Ice Essence that he had been carrying against his bare skin under his clothes.
“…No, I’m fine.”
But Jo Harang had not been staring because she wanted the ice. When she shook her head, Dan Mujin looked a little awkward and tucked the case back inside his clothes.
“Really? But you’ve been acting strange ever since the North Sea Ice Palace.”
“I just… have some things to think about.”
She answered quietly.
“Yeah? If you’ve got worries, tell me anytime.”
“Okay. I will.”
Until recently her life had been simple—enjoying good food and beating up villains for money. Lately, though, a serious concern had taken root in her heart.
“Boss, she’s all flustered because you offered her something that was touching your bare skin.”
Ilhong, apparently misreading the situation, cut in.
“Oh, is that it? But between me and Jo Harang it shouldn’t really matter…”
“Honestly, what exactly is between the two of you?”
When he emphasized their closeness, Ilhong asked with a faintly displeased look.
“Close friends who’ve crossed countless lines of death together?”
Dan Mujin answered. As the actual combat force of the detective agency, the two of them had fought back-to-back in the most dangerous places.
“I’ve crossed plenty of death lines with you too, Boss.”
“Have you? Then I’ll bestow this upon you instead.”
“Huh? Ahh!”
The sudden cold against her neck made Ilhong let out a strange shriek. To Jo Harang, the whole scene somehow felt distant.
Ilhong yelped at the chill on her neck. Meanwhile Jo Harang twisted a lock of her long hair around her finger, lost in deep thought. Lately her mind often drifted elsewhere like this.
Dan Mujin seemed to worry that she was still shaken after being casually knocked out twice by an overwhelming master. The truth was completely different.
When I fainted the second time… I was half-conscious, but I caught a little of it…
Jo Harang was the Purple Micro Star—someone who adapted and grew stronger at terrifying speed while fighting evil and death. That was why, when that formless sword came flying at her again and she was utterly helpless, she had still put up a desperate struggle. Even as she collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut, she managed to cling to a thread of consciousness.
As a result, in that hazy state she had unintentionally overheard a tiny fragment of the conversation between Dan Mujin and Jeok-il.
“Mujin… could it be that you carry something similar to mine?”
The words that Dan Mujin harbored some unknown ominous star.