Grand Opening - 4
"It may be a bit much for a young lady of a prestigious clan to wear."
The qipao wasn't exactly a garment that bared skin boldly, but it was true that it hugged every line of the body, and the side slits flashed a glimpse of thigh with every step. For a young lady raised so delicately in the Jegal Clan, it was without a doubt a daring outfit—far too daring.
"Author Hopil."
She still hasn't given up, has she.
Jegal Hyang, still clutching my sleeve, lowered her head and spoke.
"Miss Jegal. As I have told you, I am not Hopil—"
"H-Hopil... Author Hopil said that what matters is the courage to take one step forward even in the face of a formidable foe, you seeee."
Jegal Hyang stole a glance toward the second-floor counter as she said it.
What is she looking at? I turned my head to follow her gaze. There was Lim Hayeon, inspecting the staff in their various qipao outfits.
Well, for a girl who lives in nothing but loose, comfortable clothes, a qipao really would be a formidable foe.
"Since this is her first time wearing one, I'll have the other staff help her change."
She wants this herself, so there's no reason to stop her.
And truth be told, I wanted to see it too.
"I told you something felt off."
While I sat waiting in anticipation of Jegal Hyang's qipao, Lim Hayeon came over wearing a sour look and sat down across from me.
"What do you mean?"
"When we placed the order for the work uniforms, we most certainly did not order anything for Miss Jegal. So why, I wonder, does this shipment include an outfit for Miss Jegal Hyang?"
"Haha... It wasn't my money, so I asked them to throw one in while they were at it. Ow!"
As though my answer disgusted her, Lim Hayeon lifted her foot and gave my thigh a sly pinch with her toes, hidden from the staff's view.
Haven't you developed quite a taste for pinching my thigh with your toes lately?
"Now I finally understand why you told me not to wear a qipao back then."
Lim Hayeon swirled her ice-filled drink and shot me a glare sharp enough to prickle.
She even caught that.
"Kyaa!"
Just as I was racking my brain for an excuse, a strange cry rang out from the changing room.
"It seems something has happened while Miss Jegal Hyang was changing. Would you go take a look for her?"
At my words, Lim Hayeon rose from her seat.
"Why is everyone screaming... Eep!"
A flustered sound drifted out from Lim Hayeon the moment she stepped inside.
What on earth could be wrong?
"I-Is it... is it really all right for clothes to cling like thiiiis?"
Jegal Hyang's flustered, mortified voice rang out as well. Had something gone wrong while she was putting on the qipao?
"Unbelievable!"
"Wooow!"
Listening more closely, I realized it wasn't screaming at all—it was gasps of admiration.
"M-My thighs are showing way too muuuuch!"
"Good heavens!"
What in the world are you all looking at in there? Show me too, will you?
"How about trying it as a Meidu uniform, with an apron over it?"
"An aprooorn?"
"Here, try this one. The branch uniforms are cut to flatter the apron even more than the main store's, so they're prettier."
"The apron-over-Meidu look is lovely, but I think the other outfits would suit you too, don't you?"
"Forget the comfortable clothes—would you like to try some pieces I bought in advance?"
"I couldn't. My chest wouldn't fit."
"Mine are on the bigger side too! Hmm... no, never mind. It wouldn't work."
"Shall we do her makeup as well?"
"Let me do it! Just look at that skin! And she's this gorgeous without a stitch of makeup!"
"..."
Amid the din of the changing room, Lim Hayeon returned to my table wearing a distinctly displeased face.
"What exactly is going on in there?"
"...Must be nice."
Lim Hayeon studied me for a long moment with a look of pure dissatisfaction, then simply turned her head away.
At least tell me what's so nice about it.
Not planning to share? Fine. I'll just have to wait, then.
Feigning complete indifference, I sipped my drink and waited for the fitting room door to open.
"I can't do iiiit. It's... it's too embarrassing. I-I just can't wear iiiit!"
Nooooo!
"I'm sorryyyy. That one step was simply impossible for me, after allll."
Jegal Hyang declared her failure with the vacant stare of a lost soul, hugging her loose, comfortable clothes to her chest as though they were treasure.
"Haha. It's quite all right. Excuse me a moment—I'll go hand out drinks to the staff passing out flyers outside."
If she doesn't want to, there's nothing to be done about it.
I'll leave Jegal Hyang at the quiet first-floor counter and go run drinks out front.
"The Daseogak opens soon—please come visit us!"
"Good heavens! I've never seen an outfit like that in my life!"
"On the second floor, one entrance fee lets you read as many books as you like!"
"Just the entrance fee, and I can read to my heart's content?"
The qipao really is the way to go. The advertising effect is paying off handsomely.
The storefront was packed with the female staff handing out flyers and men whose attention had been thoroughly captured by the exotic new outfits.
"Everyone, please have a nice cold drink."
You're all working hard out here. I handed the drinks Lim Hayeon had made to the women posted in front of the bookstore.
"Thank you, Manager!"
"Wow, it's packed to the brim with ice! Manager, you're too thoughtful!"
"You're all out here working so hard, so I had them filled with plenty of ice."
Technically, it was Lim Hayeon who filled them.
"As expected of our Manager!"
"...A barbarian bastard running a wench show in broad daylight."
Do they find the staff's warm reception of me that distasteful?
A confrontational voice rose from behind me.
"Running a courtesan trade, are you? A barbarian bastard who doesn't know his own place, strutting around in fine clothes. Hey!"
The stench of liquor stung my nose. Drunkards who'd been at the bottle since midday, were they?
"M-Mr. Manager!"
"Stay behind me."
The moment I ushered the terrified staff behind my back, the two drunkards came straight for me.
"Hey. Barbarian. Where'd you steal clothes like these?"
One of them jabbed a finger into my shoulder, grinning.
"Sir, you seem to have had too much to drink. Please, be on your way."
This is right in front of the shop. A brawl here would do no one any good. I slowly nudged the drunkard aside, wearing my best everything-is-fine smile.
"This bastard shoved me? Well, I never. How times have changed—a barbarian bastard laying hands on a man?!"
A fist came flying straight at my face.
Funny thing—no one who screams 'barbarian bastard' ever lets it slide gracefully.
"Young Master Kang!"
Jegal Hyang's startled cry rang out from inside Daseogak.
No need to be alarmed.
"AAAAAH! Let go?! You won't let go?!"
A punch at this level, I can catch and twist with one hand.
"You bastard! My friend—ow, ow!"
I caught the second man's incoming fist and gave it the same treatment.
I channeled inner force into the tips of my toes and struck both their shins, then seized the shoulders of the two men as they lost their balance and drove them straight into the dirt.
Kneeling a pair of drunkards on the ground was no difficult feat.
"If you're going to drink, drink with some grace. Come to your senses and regret this—before it's too late."
My voice was low. My face, the smile one wears for something pitiable.
If I so much as lifted one more finger here, the place you close your eyes tonight might not be your bed, but a coffin. I admonished them quietly.
"W-We're terribly sorry!"
"We failed to recognize a man of your standing! Please forgive us!"
Get lost. Rubbing their shins and wrists, thoroughly terrified, the drunkards bolted.
"Wow. As expected of Manager Kang Yunho!"
"Kang Yunho? I've heard that name somewhere before..."
"Black hair?! Ah! You know! The renowned Joseon constable who cracked the Ghost Ship case!"
"No wonder. His skill was clearly nothing ordinary!"
"I'll post the off-duty guards out front. Thank you all for your hard work."
Great—now pointless stares were gathering on my own account. I bid the staff farewell and headed back inside Daseogak.
"A-Are you all right, Young Master Kaaang?"
Inside, Jegal Hyang came hurrying toward me, her face drained white.
"Haha. I'm used to this sort of thing. I'm fine, so please don't worry yourself."
Being picked on for being a barbarian was hardly a new experience.
"...You're used to it?"
Jegal Hyang stared at me, unable to close her mouth.
"It's nothing at all. Come, let's go upstairs and have a nice cold drink."
No one here smacks me across the back of the head and drives me out of town for accepting a piece of bread from a kind-hearted granny in some small village. No one shakes me down in an alley for the coin I earned hauling cargo at the docks.
Because these days, I can settle a petty quarrel like that on my own.
I gave Jegal Hyang a smile that said everything was fine, and headed up to the second floor.
"..."
Jegal Hyang said nothing, simply watching me go—and for a long while, she couldn't bring herself to come upstairs.
"Young Master Kaaang."
I had come home from work and was sorting through paperwork when a voice drifted in from the door.
"I'm in here. Come on in."
"Um, well... hellooooo."
Jegal Hyang poked just her face into the room, peered around, then scurried up to my desk in tiny steps.
"Hm? Why have you come wrapped in a blanket?"
Her appearance left me utterly baffled. Why was she swaddled in a thin blanket like a traveling cloak, with only her face peeking out?
Does she have a fever or something?
"I-I'm going to take it off in front of you, Young Master Kang."
"I'm sorry—what?"
What kind of remark is that—one that would earn applause even from a flasher? Kindly refrain from saying things that invite misunderstanding.
'Huh?'
Before I could summon a single response, the thin blanket brushed past the nape of her neck and began sliding down, smooth as water.
No way!
Well—yes, I did assume that once we lived under one roof, we'd each see the other's unguarded moments!
But I never once hoped for anything like this!
Focus, eyes! I cannot miss a single frame of this!
The blanket peeled away like the cocoon that had bound a beautiful butterfly, slowly unveiling the figure it had kept hidden.
"I-I tried it onnn."
The blanket pooled at her feet.
And there above it stood Jegal Hyang in the very qipao the staff had marveled over, revealed in all her glory.
"Ohhh."
And here I'd thought it would show a little more skin than that.
"Ah... th-th-th-the thing is, my thighs really are..."
Scarlet to the ears, Jegal Hyang hastily bent at the waist, one hand darting out to clamp down on the side slit—as though she could hold back the sea that God's own miracle had parted. The effort left her bent upper body swaying dramatically.
Wow.
I'd never known, since she never wears anything that shows her figure—but Miss Jegal is no pushover either.
Hayeon-level? No—Hayeon's the taller one. By the numbers, Hayeon probably still has the edge.
"If it embarrasses you, there is always the apron."
"B-But... Hayeon unnie didn't wear oooone."
"Miss Hayeon wears one whenever she's on shift."
"Then, one momennnt."
Jegal Hyang vanished into her room in a flash, threw on the apron that had come with the qipao, and reappeared.
"Ohh..."
An involuntary gasp escaped me.
The innocence, the freshness, the endearingly dorky air—and a face flushed bright red with embarrassment on top of it all.
If Hayeon was the woman born to wear the qipao, with all its feminine allure, then the Meidu uniform belonged to Jegal Hyang, no question.
"It suits you wonderfully."
"Hehe, i-it does, reallyyy?"
"Yes. It suits you perfectly."
"Hehehe."
Perhaps the praise had blown away a little of her embarrassment, because Jegal Hyang hid her smile behind one hand and gave a little wiggle, like a model at a mortifying private fashion show.
Oh my.
And with every movement, the gap between apron and skirt offered a dizzying glimpse of her thighs.
No wonder the staff couldn't stop marveling.
I barely reined in a smile threatening to split open like a qipao's side slit, and asked her.
"So what's the occasion for the qipao, all of a sudden?"
Not that I'm complaining, mind you.
But why wear it here? A second attempt after the first failure?
At that, Jegal Hyang looked at me for a moment, the playfulness gone from her face. Then she lowered her head and spoke.
"Because in front of you, Young Master Kang... I can wear it, even if it embarrasses me."
"I'm sorry?"
"I've been thinking it over and over. You must be Author Hopil—so why do you keep denying it?"
Don't tell me this was all a strategy to lull me into complacency and strike at my weakness.
I knew it—I can never let my guard down. The Jegal Clan!
"I am not Hopil."
"Watching today, I finally understood. You're Joseon-born, Young Master Kang. If word got out that Author Hopil was Joseon, it could only do you harm—wouldn't you say?"
Jegal Hyang clutched the strings of her apron tight, her face twisted with anguish.
"Please, go on."
Yesterday, circumstantial evidence and physical proof. Today, motive?
Rather than look at her, I turned my gaze to the window and listened as she went on.
"I was such a fool. No—I am a fool. I should have tried to understand your heart, Young Master Kang, not just pile up evidence."
Tears had crept into Jegal Hyang's voice.
"Miss Jegal. I am not Hopil—"
"I know you're ashamed to have your identity known. That's why I... even though I'm ashamed too, I tried it on."
"..."
Before demanding an embarrassing thing of someone else, she makes an embarrassment of herself first.
Is this the greatest act of courage a girl so bad at conversation could muster—coming all this way to see me like this?
Choking back tears, Jegal Hyang, for once, did not look away. She looked me dead in the eye.
"Young... Young Master Kang, if it displeases you, you don't have to say a word. But c-couldn't you at least be honest with me? If, if you'd like, I'll take off... Noooo! I mean—I'll take off the apron too!"
Clutching the apron in both hands, Jegal Hyang spoke in a voice that seemed one sob away from collapse.
"Miss Jegal."
"..."
She lowered her head once more.
"Hah."
Hopil.
The reason I hid my identity as a writer was never because I enjoyed living a double life.
I was no psychiatrist by day and spy by night, nor a cold-blooded S-rank hunter in the real world who moonlighted online as a beatbox-loving troll.
The reason I concealed Hopil's identity was simple.
'Because this world is saturated with prejudice against barbarians.'
People who believed themselves the center of the universe. Contempt for black hair that spilled out without a shred of hesitation. In a world like that, I still had to write novels.
'Success was a matter of life and death.'
To survive in this world. To save the heroines from their fates. Hiding the author's identity was simply the winning play.
And so I split Hopil away from myself.
The author who brought a brand-new genre to the Central Plains—the romantic wuxia chronicle. Hopil.
A merchant of unimpeachable integrity who would stake his very life for a friend, barbarian though he was. Kang Yunho.
Once the two identities were separated, each made for a fine story—and in Yichang, even a barbarian could be accepted as a member of society.
I looked at the woman who, in all this world, was the first to see through me.
Someone trusting me was never reason enough to unmask myself. The risk I would have to shoulder outweighed, by far, the petty thrill of being found out.
If I pressed her even a little, calling it all a misunderstanding again, this timid girl might well retreat and never return.
But.
'If she stands there with tears brimming, waiting for my answer... then I haven't a choice, do I?'
After long deliberation, I spoke to Jegal Hyang, who was waiting for nothing in this world but my answer.