The Heroine Lim Hayeon of the Martial Arts Visual Novel
“Miss Hayeon? What are you up to in broad daylight?”
I had spent the whole night telling Hayeon about Hwarin, and after a short morning nap, I wandered into the living room only to witness a scene I could hardly believe.
“W-well, you see…”
With a face on the verge of tears, Hayeon pointed helplessly at the sign hanging around her neck and bowed her head.
What does it say?
I betrayed my ally. Betray us once more, and your name will no longer be Lim — it will be Son of Gangdong.
Betrayal?
“Haaaa-yeon unnieeeeee…”
Good grief. A voice dark and mournful, like something crawling up from an underground cellar, wailed out behind me.
“I'm s-sorry! I'll keep my hands up, I promise!”
Startled, Hayeon threw both hands into the air.
What on earth happened while I was asleep?
“Unnie, and Young Master Kang… no. Never mind. It's all my fault. I suppose I'm just in the wayyyy…”
Miss Jegal pressed herself flat against the floor like an earthworm withering in a drought, glancing between Hayeon and me with an expression of pure wounded injustice.
Ah. So it was because of what happened yesterday.
“Miss Jegal. It's a misunderstanding! Truly, a misunderstanding!”
Hayeon and I had to desperately console Miss Jegal, like two people frantically trying to revive that dried-up earthworm.
It took until the misunderstanding was cleared up and we'd reached a compromise — that all three of us would visit the Yellow Crane Tower, Wuhan's most famous sight — before Hayeon was finally allowed to stop wearing the punishment sign around the house.
By reputation, the Yellow Crane Tower was the finest view in Wuhan — and it truly was a spectacular sight. The problem was that the tourists were greeted by a rather different kind of spectacle.
“Uuugh. Th-there are so many people…”
The moment a crowd-stopping beauty appeared in the flesh, all eyes snapped toward her at once.
Unfortunately, Miss Jegal couldn't withstand the sudden attention. Muttering that she was satisfied just to have seen the Yellow Crane Tower thanks to Young Master Kang, she turned right around and headed back to the estate.
And so an outing that had begun with three dwindled back down to two. A shame, but nothing to be done.
“Boat rental is 50 copper per person. Even rowing alone, the lake is calm — you'll glide along easy as anything.”
Our next stop was Donghu, East Lake — Wuhan's vast lake, famous as a lovers' rendezvous spot.
“No discount for couples?”
“I'd happily charge a couple surcharge, though.”
Cheapskate. Renting out one rickety little boat and overcharging like that.
“Haggle on your own time and get in the boat!”
When Hayeon shouted that as she hopped aboard, I gave up and climbed in after her. So this is why my friends, so devoted to their love lives, always wailed about being broke whenever the guys got together.
“Never thought I'd see the day.”
I murmured it as I rowed slowly.
Next time I see the guys over drinks — sure, they'll understand when I tell them. When they shoot me those pitying looks, I won't just punch them; I'll get to click my tongue right back at them.
“A lazy boat ride in the middle of the day. It feels like a dream.”
Seated in the boat, Hayeon tidied her hair as the wind toyed with it and spoke.
“The meaning's a little different for me, though.”
“Pardon?”
“Nothing at all.”
Back when my friends were pairing off as freshman campus couples and taking girls out on paddle boats, my entire world was sailing the digital seas of the internet. Honestly, this counts as remarkable progress.
“Here. Ah… say ahh.”
As I rowed in silence, Hayeon suddenly thrust something long and thin toward my mouth.
“What's this?”
“I wouldn't feed you anything that could kill you.”
What is she stuffing into my mouth? I chewed cautiously under her expectant gaze. As my teeth tore through the unfamiliar texture, sweet and savory exploded across my tongue — crisp vegetables, juicy meat bursting with broth.
The taste every Korean knows by heart.
“…Beef bulgogi gimbap? You got up early and made something in the kitchen, and it wasn't dumplings this time?”
First kimchi mandu yesterday, now this.
“W-well? How is it?”
Cheeks flushed, Hayeon dropped her gaze and waited for my verdict.
“Delicious. The seasoning suits my palate perfectly.”
It was hard to believe this came from a courtesan who, when we first met earlier this year, couldn't cook to save her life.
“Heheh. Worth all that early-morning effort, then. Here — ah… say ahh.”
I ate the gimbap she handed me and rowed on slowly. I should have been admiring the scenery, but with the two of us doing nothing but staring at each other's faces, it felt faintly indecent.
I was just beginning to wonder whether this counted as a proper date when—
“Hah!”
“Where's that sound coming from?”
A noise reached my ears — the kind you'd miss unless you listened closely.
Where?
I scanned our surroundings. At the lake's edge, in the shadow of dense trees, a lone boat floated unmanned on the water.
Could someone be injured, lying there? Worried, I rowed toward the shade.
“Ahh. Aaah. Hnn. S-someone's coming.”
“Relax. They came knowing full well.”
“Oh, n-no…”
Those weren't groans of pain, were they. They were the other kind! Do that indoors! Flustered beyond words, I spun the boat around at once.
Only once I'd rowed us far out of earshot did Hayeon glance at me with a knowing smile.
“Feeling envious?”
Asking what I already know she knows — only an amateur would press me twice like that. No. Absolutely not.
“There's no need to rush things.”
I wore a composed, mature smile for no reason at all.
“I-I only get one chance at this, too, you know.”
Hayeon said it, averting her eyes.
“Huh?”
I'm sorry, what?
“Ugh, what is that face! That look of pure disappointment!”
Hayeon yelped at me, utterly incredulous. Oops. Did my expression management slip for a second there?
“No, I just… so it's a no for now. I was thinking, nothing says it can't be a yes later.”
“I gathered up so much courage for that! N-next time, you be the one to seduce me…”
Head bowed, face scarlet, Hayeon barely managed the confession. So that's what this was about. What a relief.
“I'll have to start practicing my cat impression, then.”
I murmured it with an expression of profound reassurance.
“Uuurgh! You — you really will, won't you!”
“Hahaha! Dangerous territory, that.”
When Hayeon lunged at me, fuming, catlike, I caught her gently in my arms and laid her down right there on the boat.
A rest won in winter, carried through spring and summer, finally claimed in the depths of autumn. It would only be a fleeting happiness — but it was happiness enough to satisfy me completely.
I stroked Hayeon's hair once and looked up at the sky.
A fall sky without a single cloud. The season when the heavens grow high and the horses grow fat — though with no horse in sight, I suppose I'll just have to eat more gimbap myself.
“Hack—! cough!”
“You can't live like this! How do you manage to eat lying down! Here — water! Drink some water!”
I nearly choked to death on the spot.
Why do the happy, easy days slip by so quickly?
Seeing only what I wished to see, eating only what I wished to eat — the hours poured away, far too scarce a time for whispering promises of the future.
“You're going by boat?”
However much I longed to keep holding her hands, the day came when I had to let go.
“Yes. They say Haomun's grand headquarters lies somewhere in the Jiangnam region.”
Just as our meeting had been a harbor, so too was our parting.
Hayeon said her farewells to Miss Jegal, the Hometown Association folk, and the Hyangju of Haomun who had come to see her off.
While she was busy with goodbyes, I should move her luggage. As I carried her things toward the boat she would sail on, an unexpected person greeted me.
“Everything else is loaded. Give me that as well.”
“Father-in-law? Where are you going?”
The man stepping off the boat was Uncle Wang. Why was he dressed as though ready to depart on a journey?
“I mean to travel with my daughter.”
“With no word said, I assumed you'd only be here to see her off.”
So the question of who would head Hayeon's retinue had never been settled after all. In the end, it had fallen to Uncle Wang.
He stole a glance at Hayeon, far away, receiving the send-off of a great crowd, and smiled.
“How could I send my daughter off to a strange land alone? I mean to close the gulf that ten years opened between us, and watch over her from her side.”
“If you stay by Miss Hayeon's side, Father-in-law, my heart is at ease more than anyone's could be.”
I had worried what might happen if she faced the Haoxumen Master alone. But there is no one I trust more than Uncle Wang.
An unexpected parting on top of all the others — and yet I bowed my head with a glad heart.
“Thank you. My daughter is waiting, so go and say your farewell.”
Following his gaze, I turned — and found that everyone had already drifted away from Hayeon's side.
She was waiting for me, for one last send-off.
“You came?”
As the footsteps of parting drew near, Lim Hayeon asked without turning around, unwilling to show a fragile face.
“Everything's ready for your departure, then.”
Her lover stepped up beside her and announced that the hour of farewell had come.
What should I say now? Lim Hayeon lifted her head and looked into her lover's face.
They had exchanged countless words for this day, yet there were still so many left unsaid. But now was not the time for words — it was the time to speak with the heart.
“Take this back with you.”
Lim Hayeon drew a small box from her sleeve and held it out to him.
“What's this? A water dropper?”
Inside the little box lay an exquisite water dropper for an inkstone, shaped as a pair of mandarin ducks.
“So you'll think of me whenever you write.”
Her lover gazed at her in surprise, then broke into a satisfied smile and nodded.
Thank heavens he seemed pleased. It had weighed on me the whole time — that with my circumstances, I couldn't buy him a single proper gift. To be able to give him one at the very end was truly a blessing.
Lim Hayeon hoped he would understand what the mandarin ducks meant, yet decided not to say it aloud.
“As it happens, I have a gift for you as well.”
After tucking away her present, Kang Yunho drew out something she had never imagined.
“This is… my gijeok, isn't it? My courtesan registry.”
What Kang Yunho held out was the official document recording that Lim Hayeon had been a courtesan.
“A worthless scrap of paper by now, of course.”
On the ledger that had once borne the name of an apprentice courtesan, Lim Hayeon's name had been struck through in black ink. What he offered was, in truth, nothing more than a formality.
“Why are you giving me this?”
Why would he hand her a registry that no longer mattered? Lim Hayeon asked, her face full of puzzlement.
Kang Yunho pointed to a bonfire burning near the harbor, and made a proposal to his bewildered lover.
“Let's burn it together.”
It meant nothing anymore — but once, this paper had carried a meaning so heavy. Let us burn it together.
Lim Hayeon looked from the document to the bonfire and back, then smiled softly and nodded.
“Yes. Let's.”
To the very last, it was a gift so like him. The finest gift of all.
It was more than enough to burn a meaningless scrap — but not enough to burn something that had carried so much weight. Lim Hayeon added a few more logs to the bonfire.
“This is the first time a Mangju of Haomun has ever become the Haoxumen Master's direct disciple. Who knows what will happen once I'm there. All manner of trials may be waiting.”
A small worry — though it could grow into a great one. Lim Hayeon spoke as she watched the flames swell.
“Then think of me each time. Think of everything we've been through together.”
He was the one who had always clawed open a path through impossible odds. At his side, she had watched every single thing he had accomplished.
Compared to the battles they had fought so far, meeting the Haoxumen Master as Mangju was surely a small affair. And even if trouble came, she knew she could weather it with his memory at her side. Lim Hayeon gave a small nod.
The fire roared higher and higher, but not one of his words had let her worry grow.
“The Haoxumen Master is a renowned master of the unorthodox sects. His martial arts must be the arts of ascension itself. They won't be easy to learn.”
I'm afraid it may be a long time before I see him again.
“Well, the Haoxumen Master can't walk on water, now, can he.”
“Heheh. No, I suppose he can't.”
The last remaining worry guttered out in an instant.
Lim Hayeon stared blankly at the great yoke that had tormented her all her life, now resting in the palm of her hand.
The gijeok was so light. It had been so heavy — and now it was so light.
The lovers clasped each other's hands tenderly. Lim Hayeon hurled the heavy yoke her lover had peeled from her straight into the flames.
Sparks scattered.
It was nothing now, but it had been everything in her life — and in a single breath it flared, scattered its sparks, and vanished.
So easily. So emptily. But the road here had been anything but easy.
Lim Hayeon stole a glance at her lover watching the fire. Sensing her gaze, he turned and looked at her tenderly.
“I'll be back.”
Two people who could read each other's thoughts from a look alone needed no lengthy words.
“I'll be waiting.”
Like two birds joined into a single pair of wings, they had flown a great distance and finally reached their destination. Had they not leaned on each other, loved each other, held each other up, neither would have made it this far.
All that remained now was to catch her breath at the end of a long journey. To go and grow a little stronger, so they could love a little more.
Lim Hayeon boarded the boat.
To return, one day, to the place where her other half waited.
She boarded the boat.
“She's gone…”
The boat carrying Hayeon shrank into the distance.
The ache of parting churned in my gut. But unlike every parting before, this time I could see her off with a smile.
Because I'll see her again.
Sohee, whose cursed destiny as the Heavenly Killing Star makes any reunion a gamble. Hwarin, who must wait ten years for the cure of the Poison Human. Hayeon was different from them.
This time, I very nearly got it all right.
I saved Hayeon from the fate of a runaway courtesan. I burned away my woman's chains with my own two hands.
The first heroine I ever truly rescued.
True, the parting came about because the solution unfolded on my own stubborn terms — but this once, I could honestly say I had succeeded.
The farther her boat drifted, the heavier the pain of parting pressed on my heart. And still I could smile, because I looked forward to the day we would meet again.
“Young Master Kaaaaang!”
A voice called me from far off. I turned my back on the boat, now vanished from sight.
“Time to go.”
I have to go.
To make my name. To build my fortune. To make the place she'll return to. So that all of us can be happy together.
Yes.
Onward. Always onward.