Getting Ready for Opening Day - 8
"Turns out some suspicious characters have been digging into where our sister-in-law lays her head."
Apparently, someone had approached the Joseon men drinking at the inn last night, slyly fishing for information about a certain pink-haired woman.
Chef An came over to us after we finished breakfast to deliver the news.
"So they really are poking around, as expected."
The Thieves' Gate was tightening its encirclement right on schedule.
"What should we do?"
"For now, I'll send word to the Simun Branch Master separately."
Even without a clear-cut solution, it was only prudent to apprise him of the current situation.
"Don't you worry, sister-in-law. Everyone's keeping their lips sealed, all of one heart and one mind."
"Haah……"
Lim Hayeon let out a small sigh, her face clouded with worry.
"Don't fret too much. I'll protect you one way or another. We're moving your lodgings to the estate today, so even if they do learn something, you won't be in any immediate danger."
Unless the Thieves' Gate thugs were fools enough to let their greed outstrip their discretion, the estate itself was untouchable.
I had Lim Hayeon don a face veil and a wide-brimmed straw hat, and we set off for the estate with our belongings in tow.
"Lady Jegal Hyang slept poorly and will be arriving a little late, sir."
"Ha ha. That's understandable."
Once Lim Hayeon and I had finished unpacking, one of the guards approached us with an apologetic tone, delivered the message, and slipped away.
I remembered sleeping badly myself, back when I first moved out on my own — half nerves, half excitement.
"Some of us worked ourselves to the bone hauling luggage, though……"
Lim Hayeon muttered under her breath, her nerves from the Thieves' Gate news sharpening her tongue a little.
"It looks like Lady Jegal's things were already moved over from the Mangeum Hall, so let's get some martial arts practice in until she arrives."
"What's gotten into you?"
"Well, if I'm going to protect Ha-yeon, I need to get stronger, don't I?"
I said it with a deliberately sly grin. The poor man had endured the Thieves' Gate drama *and* moving day — someone had to make him laugh.
"Wh-what are you even saying! The inner courtyard is plenty big, so practice out there!"
Lim Hayeon flushed crimson for a split second, then recovered by fishing a set of wooden training dummies out of the remaining luggage and arranging them one by one across the inner courtyard.
Well then, might as well stretch my own legs too.
"Don't stop moving!"
"Ugh!"
The forms were unfamiliar, and the drill demanded relentless speed.
The instant my footwork slowed even a hair, Lim Hayeon ruthlessly flung a stone at me.
"Sprint, stop, throw. Sprint, stop, throw. Drill it like that, and one throw might slip through — but never two."
"When I'm focused on the Shadowless Body Art, I can't focus on the Tang Clan's throwing techniques."
Isn't the compatibility between arts from different sects just terrible? I ventured, as obliquely as I could manage.
"The Shadowless Body Art pairs well with any martial art — it's that kind of movement technique. Move like the moment you stop is the moment you die."
So you want me to move like a bus that explodes if it stops running?
I traced the footprints Lim Hayeon had pre-marked across the courtyard yet again, hurling hidden weapons in rapid succession.
"My accuracy feels terrible."
Even the most gifted pitcher alive would tell you that hitting the strike zone while sprinting is an entirely different game.
Worse, running the Shadowless Body Art — a technique of leaping ascent — while executing Tang Clan throwing arts made simply hitting the target an ordeal in itself.
"I told you, didn't I? If your first throw fails, you never get a second chance at the same opening. After that, it's a war of attrition. Now that your enemy's on guard, you have to keep moving and carve out openings yourself."
Lim Hayeon picked up a handful of throwing blades herself, then sprinted at several times my speed and sank every last one into nine separate targets.
Was it arrogance, promising to protect her with martial arts?
"Looks like I'll need to end things on the first move."
Since there was no hope of firing nine throws mid-sprint, my only option was to release them all at once and flee. What should I call it? Nine-Dragon Slaughter?
"Where do you think you're sneaking off to rest?!"
But I'm tired…
Being called second-rate had warmed my ego, but the more I trained, the more it felt like queuing into a ranked match in a PvP game. In casual play I'd felt pretty pleased with myself; in ranked, the sky above me stretched impossibly far.
"Helllooo—"
Just as I was hauling myself up under Lim Hayeon's glare, a familiar voice drifted in from the entrance.
So Jegal Hyang finally made it.
"What do you think you're doing, walking in on this?!"
The moment Jegal Hyang set one foot toward the courtyard, Lim Hayeon rounded on her with a scowl fit to curdle milk.
"Eek! I-I, um, that is……"
"Spying on another's martial arts. I suppose the youngest daughter of a prestigious clan is free to ignore the laws of the Jianghu?"
"Th-that's not what I waaaas—"
"Lady Jegal only just arrived to pay her respects. Lady Jegal — if you're not in any hurry, might we speak after training is finished?"
It seemed harsh of Lim Hayeon, but in this case Jegal Hyang was in the wrong.
Practicing martial arts is like showing a rough sketch of a painting, or the unedited first draft of a novel — the structure of the techniques, the flow of inner energy, every motion the practitioner prizes most. A skilled martial artist can study and steal all of it in its raw, unpolished state. That's why outsiders must never observe another's arts without permission.
The crow flies, and the pear falls. A martial artist must avoid even the appearance of impropriety.
"……"
And yet Jegal Hyang did not retreat to her room. She simply stood there, staring at Lim Hayeon for a long, stubborn moment.
"What is it? Do you have business with me?"
Cowed by Lim Hayeon's presence, Jegal Hyang lowered her head, then finally managed her question.
"Is… is Big Sister teaching Young Master Kang a family-inherited martial aaaart?"
"Yes. That's right. So an outsider really shouldn't be watching, should she… shouldn't she…? Hmmmm?"
Lim Hayeon tilted her chin up and let out a strange, deliberate hum as she fixed Jegal Hyang with a look.
At that, Jegal Hyang's complexion went pale, and she spoke up in a voice that trembled slightly.
"Y-you may not know this, Big Sister, but th-there is such a thing as the laws of the Jianghuuuu."
"I know exactly what they are. And I follow them quite well, thank you."
"You… you follow them weeeell……?"
Jegal Hyang murmured it back with an expression of pure disbelief.
What is going on with her?
When I moved to step between the two of them, Lim Hayeon blocked my path.
"Now then, will the out. sider. please excuse herself?"
"Hhk……!"
Done with Lim Hayeon's icy eviction, Jegal Hyang bowed her head and retreated into the house.
You could have just corrected her gently. Was there any need to be that sharp?
I'll have to apologize when Lim Hayeon isn't around.
"We're all in your care from here on. Now then — let's talk about our plans going forward. Lady Jegal."
We gathered around the table in the main room.
"……"
Did we kick her out too ruthlessly just now? Jegal Hyang sat with her head lowered, wearing something close to a sulk.
Lim Hayeon, that smile of yours is far too smug. She's a year younger than you — be nice.
"Lady Jegal?"
"Ah! Yes!"
"Did the Mangeum Lord say nothing about sending servants along?"
"He didn't mention anything like thaaat."
Lord Mangeum, you said we'd all be living together. Then you really should have sent servants along.
Don't tell me his silence was some wordless message — 'no rumors will spread, so build your own household staff'?
"Cleaning we can manage, but meals are a problem."
I could always eat at the inn before my shift, but Jegal Hyang loves staying home — she's the one who'd suffer.
"Can't we just cook for ourselves?"
While I was still pondering, Lim Hayeon tossed out the suggestion as if it were nothing at all.
"Cook? Ourselves?"
"We can take turns on a rotating schedule. That's fine with you, isn't it, Lady Jegal?"
"Ah, I, um, th-th-th-that is……"
One look was enough to tell she had zero confidence.
"My, my. What kind of woman can't even cook?"
"……"
"From what I recall, Ha-yeon also——"
You can't cook either.
When I asked back in Yichang, you told me yourself — you were raised as a courtesan and never learned your way around a kitchen.
Why is someone at the exact same level laughing at her?
"Hmmmm… well, would you look at that. The rice should be about done. Let's find out, shall we?"
Lim Hayeon gave a knowing little smile and rose from her seat.
"What do you mean?"
"Ta-da."
With practiced hands, Lim Hayeon transformed the bare table into a full meal for three in the blink of an eye.
"Pork kimchi stew? With seasoned wild greens on the side?"
The spread laid out before us was a flawless, complete Joseon meal.
"Try it."
What is this?
"This tastes… familiar."
The moment the ladle of kimchi stew touched my tongue, I couldn't hold back a gasp — the flavor was overwhelmingly, unmistakably familiar.
"Does it taste like home?"
"It's familiar, all right — familiar from somewhere very close by."
Exactly thirty minutes away, to be precise. I gave Lim Hayeon a wry smile.
No wonder it came together so fast.
At that, Lim Hayeon turned her head away as if something didn't sit right with her, then promptly confessed the truth.
"Th-the kimchi was made by Chef An, but I'm the one who made the stew!"
Kimchi stew is ninety percent kimchi anyway.
"The greens taste awfully familiar too."
"I… packed them from the inn…"
So that's when she did it. Side dishes like those are a sneaky amount of work.
"Pfft."
Jegal Hyang turned away, hiding a snort of laughter behind her hand.
"Ngh!"
Why must you tease the poor girl so?
Lim Hayeon could only shoot Jegal Hyang a mortified glare, unable to muster a single word in her defense.
"Thank you. It's delicious. Tastes like home — it's been a while."
Whose kimchi it may have been, the fact remained that Lim Hayeon had cooked it for me. Come to think of it, was this the first meal another woman had ever made for me?
"All that pilfered study time with Chef An, finally paying off."
Lim Hayeon rested her chin on her hand and beamed, the picture of contentment.
"You've been learning to cook, too?"
"A woman who can't cook is in a sorry state, you know. I'd hate to be told I don't even qualify as a wife when the wedding day comes."
She said it while glancing very deliberately sideways.
"Ha-yeon."
"Hmph. What?"
I understand wanting to needle Lim Hayeon, but must you start bullying her the moment she arrives?
"That's what, um, that's——"
"Lady Jegal?"
"That's what hiring servants is foooor!"
Jegal Hyang fired back her meek, wounded protest at Lim Hayeon.
"…Th-that's… technically true!"
Why are you both being so childish?
"Let's just request servants from the Mangeum Hall. With a guard and servants in place, daily life will be no trouble at all — so let's move on to the matter of the Daseogak."
Lim Hayeon looked like she'd taken a clean hit to the pride; best to change the subject before this turned into a full-blown spat.
"The Branch Master asks to see me alone, so I'll be going out for a bit."
Word had arrived from the Simun Branch Master with remarkable speed.
"Shouldn't I come with you?"
"He asked for me only. I've called for a carriage, so hold the fort while I'm gone."
"Come back and tell me everything."
"Of course. Coachman, elder — let's be off."
After making Lim Hayeon swear not to set foot outside the estate, I climbed into the carriage and gave the driver our destination.
"Very good, sir. Your carriage awaits."
Is this driver simply that skilled?
The texture of the road, which I usually felt through the seat of my pants, had all but vanished today. He wasn't going straight, either — adjusting the horse's bearing in subtle increments, perhaps out of consideration for his passenger?
Come to think of it, since we've moved, maybe I should buy a carriage of my own.
Lim Hayeon would need one to commute without revealing her identity anyway. It wouldn't come cheap, though. And a personal coachman would need a salary on top of it. I wondered what it would cost to hire the elder at the reins up front.
"Hm? I believe we've taken a wrong turn, elder."
Lost in admiring the man's driving, I only noticed when unfamiliar scenery began sliding past the window.
This isn't our route?
"……"
"Coachman! I believe you've taken a wrong turn!"
He's ignoring me?
Here I'd been praising his skill — don't tell me he was just a crooked cabbie taking the long way around to inflate the fare.
When I rose and shouted, the driver answered without so much as turning his head, in a voice pitched low and brief.
"This is the right road."
There was a weight in that deep, grave voice — the kind that forced even an angry passenger back into his seat.
"……"
A martial artist.
I swallowed dryly without meaning to. So it wasn't a rip-off after all. I have heard tell of bandits who disguise themselves as coachmen.
Where had word spread that a black-haired barbarian had come into money? Or — could it be the Thieves' Gate after all?
Warily, my fingers found the hidden weapons in my breast.
Subdue him with a throw? Or fling open the door and leap? Or both?
"There's something I'd like to discuss, which is why we're taking the scenic route — so do relax."
As if he could read every thought behind my eyes, the driver spoke in a voice of perfect ease.
"Who might you be?"
"That potbellied waiter of a Branch Master has been doting on a certain young man of late, you see. I merely came to put a face to the name."
The potbellied waiter.
A waiter's post pays poorly and demands quick, nimble footwork — yet the man was famous for his belly.
There was no difficulty working out whom he meant.
"I heard the Simun Branch Master hasn't carried a dish with his own hands in a decade and a half."
"Heh heh. Yet that same man boasts, to anyone who'll listen, that there's someone whose dessert he served personally. Why else would I come all this way?"
Is he talking about the time he brought me dessert after the meal?
He even knows about that? That happened inside the Simun's own headquarters — in a private room.
Who on earth is this man?
"Do you happen to enjoy gambling, sir?"
So he is with the Thieves' Gate?
"I like gamblers more than I like gambling. They're generous souls when the mood strikes them — toss a driver far too much fare. Drunken fools at the gambling dens are easy pickings, and I do love easy pickings."
The driver spoke without a trace of hurry, and with each unhurried word, two of the options in my head quietly erased themselves.
Now I know who he is.
Four powers held the greatest strength in Wuhan's Haomen at present.
The gathering of courtesans. The Courtesans' Gate.
The gathering of gamblers. The Thieves' Gate.
The gathering of waiters. The Attendants' Gate.
If he belonged to none of those three, only one power remained. And the sort of man who could call the Simun Branch Master a "potbellied waiter" to his face——
I rose from my seat inside the carriage, took my fist in my palm, and bowed to the driver with the utmost courtesy.
"It is an honor to meet you, Branch Master of the Horse Gate."
The graying man at the reins was the head of every coachman and groom in Hubei Province's Haomen —
the Branch Master of the Horse Gate itself.