Carelessness Causes Catastrophe
Carelessness invites disaster.
Like finishing a novel for upload after work by cutting into your sleep, only to hit “Don’t Save” by accident when you close the program. Or accidentally posting a dirty photo into the group chat with all your colleagues. Or deciding to run to the convenience store first after turning on your computer—only for your parents to barge into your studio apartment in the meantime and discover your sexual tastes.
Of course, none of those disasters made the world go as black before my eyes as having my roommate catch me writing erotica.
Dang Hwarin stared at me with a deadly serious face.
“What the hell is this supposed to be?”
How was I supposed to talk my way out of this?
Back when I was a kid and got caught looking at dirty stuff, I used to claim the computer had been hacked. I’d somehow managed to explain to my parents why a hacker would store porn videos on my C drive and then remotely watch them—but would that fly with Dang Hwarin?
I got hacked. I only wanted to write a wholesome Wind-and-Cloud chivalry tale, but the black goat of my left hand and the lust demon of my right hand wrote a smutty chivalry novel instead.
“It’s a novel I’m writing.”
After a brief internal struggle I decided to tell her the truth. She was going to have to see it anyway once I printed copies and put them on the first-floor shelves.
This time I had to speak like Kang Yunho—facts only.
“Are you insane? This is a story about the Sichuan Dang Clan!”
Hwarin shook the manuscript at me, looking like she couldn’t believe her ears.
“Yeah, it’s a story about the Sichuan Dang Clan.”
“Is this some new Joseon method of suicide?”
“Suicide? The protagonist is a man of the Sichuan Dang Clan overflowing with righteous chivalry. You can call him a true orthodox hero, so there shouldn’t be any big problem.”
“But this…”
“I didn’t paint the Sichuan Dang Clan in a bad light either. If anything, when people from the clan read it they’ll be so moved they’ll come give me an award.”
“Bullshit! This is erotica!”
Hwarin’s face flushed as she protested.
“Hey now! Erotica? It’s just a slightly steamy tale of a man who practices chivalry in the murim.”
In short, what people call a smutty chivalry novel.
“Same difference.”
“I’m just writing a slightly steamy story with a protagonist full of righteous spirit. It’s different from pure erotica. And you know better than anyone how well this kind of story sells.”
It’s different from erotica. Totally different.
Whether a panda uses martial arts, robots fight proxy wars with martial techniques, or lightsabers get swung in outer space—if it has martial arts and chivalry, it’s wuxia.
The hero of Dangga Pungun also practiced martial arts and chivalry, so it ought to be called a wuxia novel. I just loaded it generously with steamy scenes on top of the martial arts and chivalry, so people called it a smutty chivalry novel—that was all.
“But…”
Hwarin trailed off, still worried about the Sichuan Dang Clan setting.
Her anger seemed to have cooled, so now was the time to ask for cooperation.
“I’m doing all of this for you.”
Start with a little emotional massage for Hwarin.
I hardened my expression and looked at her with worried eyes.
“For me?”
“We can probably pay off your debt by running this bookstore. But twenty years, Hwarin. A full twenty years. In twenty years we’ll be forty-one. Are we going to throw away our entire youth just paying off debt?”
In reality we would earn enough that it wouldn’t take that long, but I deliberately named the longest possible stretch so she would picture at least twenty years of hardship still ahead of us.
“What’s wrong with that…?”
At the mention of twenty years she lowered her head and avoided my gaze.
Feeling guilty, Hwarin? I said I’d help, but that debt is entirely your obligation—not mine.
“If I release a book with a Sichuan Dang Clan protagonist, it’ll grab everyone’s attention at once. People will buy it out of curiosity, word of mouth will spread, and it’ll sell even more. Let’s pay off the debt with that. Ever since we came to Yichang we’ve been eating cheap gukbap to save money. Shouldn’t we get to eat expensive food together sometimes, buy nice clothes, and go somewhere fun once in a while? Are we just going to keep living like this?”
I’m writing this so we can clear your debt quickly—together.
“T-together?”
“Who else would I go with?”
“Y-yeah… that’s true.”
The corners of Hwarin’s mouth lifted; she nodded with a faintly flushed face, accepting my words.
It worked.
I’m publishing the book for you. It’s not because I have some dark scheme to raise my fame points by getting famous with this book.
My logic had landed, but it still wasn’t enough. Risking danger just for debt repayment alone wasn’t sufficient reason.
“Actually, there’s another reason I want to publish this book.”
Time to reinforce the logic with an extra motive.
“What reason?”
“I made a promise with a friend that I’d make my name ring out across the world.”
Technically it was a promise with a fake childhood friend rather than an air friend, but I can just claim I made the same promise with an air friend too.
I looked at her with a face full of resolve.
“Ah…”
“That friend once said that if he died first he’d wait in the afterlife for someone to bring news of me, so I should get famous. If I become famous through books, won’t my family and friends in the afterlife all feel at ease knowing I’m doing well? That’s why I want to become famous.”
I spoke with sad eyes that held old wounds and a painful past, and firm lips that still wanted to walk toward the future.
“A promise with a friend… So that was it. I see.”
A strange note of disappointment leaked into Hwarin’s voice.
Did the dead family and friend story go too far? No. If I only said I was doing it for Hwarin and later told her not to take risks, I’d have nothing left to say.
Right now I need to stack both a light motive and a heavy one so she understands why this book absolutely has to come out.
“Hwarin. My dream is to become famous enough that my family and friends in the afterlife hear of my renown. There are stories like the Young Master Hamurin too, but first I want to build my fame with a popular steamy tale and then try other novels.”
“What are you going to do if the Sichuan Dang Clan sees this book and comes looking for you?”
“Well… when that happens…”
I already had a few contingency plans—easy ones and hard ones. I was still debating, but it was probably better not to use the easy method.
Hwarin kept watching my troubled face, then opened her mouth with a look of sudden resolve.
“If the Dang Clan comes looking, tell them I ordered you to write it.”
“What?”
“I’m an illegitimate child of the Sichuan Dang Clan. Say I dictated it and you just ghostwrote.”
“Hwarin, that could put you in danger.”
“That bastard Dang Geoho. Because of him I went through the Dokin experiments. If I show up at the Sichuan Dang Clan myself I’ll get grabbed by his faction, so let’s say I deliberately wrote it to draw attention.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“Yeah. For my future. For your dream. That much risk seems worth taking.”
Hwarin held out the manuscript she had been gripping. The easy method. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t known I could use Hwarin as a human shield.
I can’t turn a friend into a shield for my own affairs. That was why I had planned to use a different approach—but the friend I had made was the kind who would willingly step forward for me.
“Thank you, Hwarin.”
I thanked her with both apology and gratitude in my voice.
“Even so, isn’t the content way too shameless?”
Once the atmosphere had settled, Hwarin took the manuscript back and started reading it from the beginning. My roommate—and a woman at that—was reading the smutty chivalry novel I had written. What kind of humiliation play was this?
“Hwarin… can you just give it back?”
I held out my hand, unable to meet her eyes.
“Even this kind of thing… Is this really a novel that has martial arts and chivalry in it?”
I felt like I was going to die of shame. Every sigh Hwarin let out made me shrink smaller and smaller.
“Hey, Yunho.”
“Yeah.”
When I turned my head, Hwarin was looking at me with embarrassed eyes, the manuscript covering the lower half of her face.
“I have a question.”
“What.”
“D-does it… really feel that good when a woman’s breasts… I mean, when they wrap around it like that…? N-no! No! Forget I asked!”
Just kill me already. Please.
“I’m going to sleep.”
I couldn’t stand watching her anymore—flushed face glancing at Dangga Pungun, then glancing at me, then back at Dangga Pungun—so I decided to call it a night.
“Me too. B-but Yunho… I have something to ask.”
“Can’t you just kill me with poison or a hidden weapon instead?”
“Why would I kill you?”
“Stop asking about the book.”
Just stop, Hwarin. Kang Yunho’s life is already at zero. I answered in a voice that sounded like my soul was leaving my body.
“No, it’s not that. I-it’s… m-maybe…”
What was wrong with her? Hwarin’s face was bright red and she kept stammering like a broken machine stuck on a loop.
“What.”
I looked at her blankly. Hwarin ducked her head in embarrassment, covered her face with the manuscript, and finally spoke.
“M-maybe… the stuff in the book… have you… a-actually…? N-never mind.”
So that was what she was curious about.
“You think I’m writing a Sichuan Dang Clan protagonist because I know assassination techniques and poison arts?”
I’m writing it thanks to excellent reference material, that’s all.
“Y-yeah! That’s it, right?! Of course!”
Why did she suddenly look so triumphant? Satisfied with the answer, Hwarin set the manuscript on the desk and lay down on her own bed.
“Good night.”
“Wait. So that means you go around thinking those kinds of things all the time?”
Hwarin seemed to have an abrupt epiphany; she pushed herself up with her arms and stared at me in pure horror.
“No, that’s—”
Every guy has those thoughts and fantasies sometimes, so there’s no need to be shocked.
“Yunho. Push your bed farther away and sleep over there.”
“Yes, yes. Understood.”
Everything is my fault. The fault of the guy who got caught writing erotica by the roommate he shares a room with.
I pushed my bed to put distance between us and Hwarin’s bed.
“Not too far… Just far enough that I can still see your face.”
Demanding, aren’t we.
I made a show of pushing the bed a little, then lay down. Time to sleep already.
“Yunho.”
When I turned to look, Hwarin was lying on her bed and studying me carefully.
“Yeah.”
“Starting tomorrow I’ll help you write too.”
“You’re already exhausted from working at the bookstore.”
I’m the one who finds it hard when you look at my writing.
“From what I just read, the martial arts of the Sichuan Dang Clan are a total mess in terms of accuracy. I’ll help fix that.”
“You don’t really have to—”
“If we’re going to pay off the debt and get famous together… isn’t it better this way?”
Hwarin looked at me with worried eyes. She had a point. This was a real wuxia world; plenty of people would pick apart any historical inaccuracy.
There was no reason to reject her goodwill.
“I’d appreciate it.”
“Okay! Good night, Yunho.”
Hwarin closed her eyes while still facing me.
My whole body felt shredded from pure embarrassment. Still, I had gained an editor.
I would be able to get the martial arts lore right. Of course I would have to worry about dying of shame, but she had given permission. Now I could print Dangga Pungun on the press. I could promote it too.
Time to finish Dangga Pungun and publish it.