A Secret That Cannot Last Forever
Thud— thud— thud— thud—
Paeng Yu-heon walked up to the woman and laid a single silver coin on the tray the little girl held out.
Clink—
He smiled and turned away.
In that instant—
Snap—
the woman in the blindfold seized his wrist in a sudden, urgent grip.
Yu-heon turned back, startled.
"You are the guest who comes every time, are you not?"
"Well… yes."
"Your footsteps are so distinctive I knew you at once."
She spoke on, unhurried.
"Please take the silver back."
"How… how could you tell?"
"Even the same coin makes a different sound when it falls."
There was a firm edge in her voice.
"I am grateful that you enjoy my playing, but I am a performer—not a courtesan."
She turned her face with perfect accuracy toward the little girl and gave a slight nod of her chin. The child, looking disappointed, picked the silver coin off the tray and held it out to Yu-heon.
"Mister, Unnie says she doesn't want it."
The woman bowed politely to him.
"No matter how much money you spend, what you wish for—"
A deep sigh from Yu-heon cut her off.
"Hrm."
The sigh was weighted with inner force; the woman flinched.
"That is a disappointment."
He folded his arms and went on.
"I am a martial artist of the Hebei Paeng Clan—not some street ruffian who haunts pleasure houses every night."
His face was full of genuine hurt.
"I will admit my manner was excessive, but it was only because the young lady's melody was so sorrowful."
At the words Hebei Paeng Clan, the young woman dropped to her knees at once.
"This foolish girl failed to recognize a martial artist of the Hebei Paeng Clan."
The disappointment on Yu-heon's face only deepened.
"That," he said quietly, "is exactly what I disliked."
Without another word he returned to his seat, where wine and food already waited. The sound of the zither filled Seolyeong Pavilion once more, and Yu-heon roughly tipped the wine down his throat.
The performance ended. As if music no longer mattered to him at all, he sat alone emptying the bottle.
Soft footsteps approached—careful, measured—and the young woman who had finished her zither piece came to his side.
"There is something I wish to say."
"I am merely the captain of a low-ranking unit of the Hebei Paeng Clan."
Yu-heon waved a dismissive hand.
"There will be no retaliation. Do not worry."
"I wish to apologize."
The woman in the black blindfold offered him a formal martial salute, hands cupped with precise courtesy. Her voice trembled.
"Just as a performer has her pride, I have heard that a martial artist's honor is his life. I believe I wounded that pride."
"Hic—"
Yu-heon stared at her, dazed and flustered.
"Mister! Can I eat this?"
The little girl, utterly without tact, had already pulled up a seat and was gazing up at him with bright, sparkling eyes.
"Ah… eat as much as you like!"
"Rin-ah!"
But Seol Rin's chopsticks were already diving toward the dishes.
"Waiter—another plate of Dongpo pork here!"
"At once!"
Yu-heon spoke awkwardly.
"It is fine. My monthly pay came in today, so consider it a celebration…"
"This girl is poor. I have no way to repay you."
"Haha. A martial artist of the Paeng Clan does not fuss over such things."
Whether from drink or embarrassment, his face had gone red; he scratched the back of his head.
"Please sit as well, young lady. Have you eaten?"
"I have not yet…"
"Playing without even a meal—if you keep doing that, you will ruin your health."
He rearranged the dishes, setting food before her.
"Here—chopsticks."
Her hands trembled as she took them.
"Dongpo pork in front of you, noodles to the side."
He kindly portioned food onto her plate.
"Unnie, it's delicious!"
The two sisters ate with desperate haste. For all that the situation had erupted out of nowhere, Yu-heon threw back his head and laughed with openhearted ease.
He watched her for a long while. Then, just as he reached to refill his own cup—
She caught the bottle.
"Allow this girl to pour a cup for her benefactor."
Clear white liquor trickled into his cup.
"My name is Seol Ha-yeon."
At her introduction Yu-heon glanced around in mild panic. Down on the lower floor, by sheer chance, he spotted Paeng Ho-hyeok—vice-captain of the Black Tiger Thunder Battalion—carousing with the men.
"I am Paeng Ho-hyeok, vice-captain of the Black Tiger Thunder Battalion."
"Then I must ask the young lady for a cup as well."
"This is strong white liquor…"
"I can hold my drink reasonably well."
After that, Paeng Yu-heon and Seol Ha-yeon traded cups and spoke of music. Seol Rin devoted herself entirely to the food he kept ordering.
"Captain, how did you find my zither playing?"
"It was like a lullaby."
"A lullaby?"
"The sound seemed to soothe someone. I liked it—so I kept coming back."
At his frank answer she covered her mouth with her sleeve and laughed.
"You are exactly right. The reason I learned the zither at all was entirely for my sister…"
Thud—
Without warning Seol Ha-yeon pitched forward, forehead striking the floor as she collapsed.
"Young Lady Ha-yeon! Are you all right?"
Seol Rin spoke to Yu-heon as if nothing were amiss.
"Unnie always sleeps like that when she's drunk—face planted on the floor."
She chewed vigorously on Dongpo pork and added,
"That's why she never drinks in pleasure houses. Mister, she must really like you!"
Yu-heon pressed a hand to his brow, head already aching from the sudden turn of events.
"Where is your home?"
"There's still food…"
"Waiter!"
"Yes, my lord!"
"Pack up everything that remains."
"Understood!"
Yu-heon lifted the unconscious woman into his arms in a single motion and carefully slung her zither across his back. He winked at Seol Rin.
"I'll see you downstairs. Be sure to bring the rest of the food."
"Okay, Mister!"
With a light step of footwork he leapt from the third floor of the pleasure house, Seol Ha-yeon held close.
He waited a moment. Then Seol Rin emerged from Seolyeong Pavilion with both arms full of food packages.
Yu-heon spoke to her warmly.
"Would you show this uncle the way home?"
"Over there."
The place she pointed to was a lonely mountain, far in the distance.
Yu-heon laughed under his breath.
"So much for a quiet night."
Matching Seol Rin's light, bouncing steps, he walked on at an easy pace. Seol Ha-yeon, knowing nothing of any of it, slept quietly in his arms, murmuring in her dreams.
"Ugh—!"
The liquor gone from her head, Seol Ha-yeon sat bolt upright on the bed. Out of long habit she groped for the place beside her. Seol Rin, who always slept there, was not under her hand.
She rose, clutching a skull that still throbbed with the aftertaste of drink.
"Rin-ah!"
No answer came from the shabby house. She hurried out, hands searching the air—and only then heard her sister's voice.
"Mister, this is so good!"
"Ahem. This uncle happens to have a bit of talent in the kitchen."
"Rin-ah!"
"Unnie!"
Seol Rin dashed into her sister's arms.
"What happened last night…?"
"Unnie guzzled white liquor and passed out!"
Seol Rin smirked and went on.
"The captain uncle carried us all the way home!"
Ha-yeon's hands flew, almost of their own will, to the ties of her clothes. They were exactly as she had worn them the day before. Seeing the gesture, Yu-heon said,
"Martial artists of the Paeng Clan are not cowards."
Ashamed of having doubted him, Seol Ha-yeon bowed her head.
"That wasn't what I—"
He laughed, big and open.
"Come. Breakfast is ready. Let us eat together."
In the worn thatched cottage, with the food packed up the night before, Paeng Yu-heon, Seol Ha-yeon, and Seol Rin shared a meal. After a long stretch of silent, head-down eating, Seol Rin spoke.
"Mister."
"Hm?"
"You should come again."
Yu-heon's face flushed at the bold little demand; Ha-yeon scolded at once.
"Rin-ah!"
"What? I like Mister!"
Ha-yeon bowed again and again toward Yu-heon.
"I am sorry. My sister is still so young…"
"Very well."
"Pardon?"
"I will come every evening, with dinner."
He spoke with cheerful resolve.
"And the payment will be your zither playing."
"Benefactor…"
"I saw how far the road is, and how dangerous the mountain path. Stop going to Seolyeong Pavilion."
He drew a money pouch from his robes and set it down with a soft thump.
"Whoa! Unnie!"
Seol Rin opened the pouch and gasped at the silver inside.
"My monthly pay."
"Benefactor, you must not do this!"
"I will come to hear the young lady's zither."
He ruffled Seol Rin's hair.
"And because I want to eat with Rin."
"But if you do this…"
"Do not worry."
He laughed, broad and free.
"I may not look it, but I live diligently. I have put aside quite a sum."
At that bold confession Seol Ha-yeon could not help a small laugh.
"I will always prepare the evening meal. You need not worry about a thing."
Then she faced him and answered,
"You may come in the morning as well."
"And lunch?"
"I will always be waiting."
Paeng Yu-heon and Seol Ha-yeon looked at each other and broke into shy, quiet smiles. Watching them, Seol Rin smiled too—happy and complete.
Their secret, modest life together continued for nearly a year. Laughter never left Yu-heon's face; Seol Ha-yeon blossomed in shy, gentle color. And always at their side was Seol Rin, like a daughter of their own.
But secrets cannot last forever.
Tragedy, after all, has always arrived without warning.
One year later, in the Clan Lord's Hall of the Hebei Paeng Clan.
They shared a meal, yet a chill hung over the table. Every direct descendant of the Hebei Paeng Clan was present.
In the highest seat sat a massive man with a tiger pelt across his shoulders: the Supreme Elder, Cheonhopaedo—Heavenly Tiger Tyrant Blade—Paeng Un-ro.
He lifted his teacup and spoke.
"My son."
The equally massive man who answered was the Clan Lord of the Hebei Paeng Clan, Paeng Il-mok.
"Yes, Father."
"It is time we named a Young Clan Lord."
Paeng Un-ro set his cup aside. His gaze traveled the table and stopped on one man—slender for a martial artist of the Paeng Clan, with a face like polished jade among the rough-hewn features of the other blood kin. Paeng Yu-heon.
"Our Yu-heon has never been lacking in anything."
"I am grateful, Grandfather."
"I place great expectations upon you."
Silence settled around them.
"As ever, the contest for Young Clan Lord of this house will be fair and upright."
Even as he said it, Un-ro picked up a piece of meat with his chopsticks and placed it in Yu-heon's rice bowl. The second daughter-in-law and her sons, Paeng Mu-jin and Paeng Hwi-ryeok, frowned at the sight.
"By martial skill, of course."
Clan Lord Paeng Il-mok rose abruptly from his seat.
"Father, when shall the contest be held?"
"One year from today."
Un-ro smiled a smile no one could quite read. Then, as if the meal had lost its interest, he rose and left.
Only then did Il-mok relax and resume eating as he spoke.
"As you all know, your grandfather's expectations are high."
His three sons answered as one.
"Yes, Father."
"Do not dare disappoint him. Give everything you have."
The meal continued. When it ended and Yu-heon was heading for the training grounds to drill his men, Il-mok called him back.
"Yu-heon!"
"What is it, Father?"
"Your grandfather wishes to see you and me."
"You and me?"
"Come with me to the Supreme Elder's hall."
Il-mok clapped his eldest son heartily on the back, face bright with pride. Yu-heon, thinking little of it, went with him.
The guards at the Supreme Elder's hall announced their arrival, and a booming voice answered from within.
"My son and grandson have come. Enter at once."
Inside, Supreme Elder Paeng Un-ro was painting the Four Gentlemen. With his brush he was rendering a strange white chrysanthemum. As Yu-heon studied the work, Un-ro spoke.
"What do you make of it?"
"It is excellent."
"I want a cold appraisal."
Yu-heon walked boldly to his grandfather's side, took up the brush Un-ro had set down, and began to draw.
Swish— swish— swish— swish—
With free, decisive strokes he laid new lines across the painting. Under his brush the silent white chrysanthemum came alive.
"Khahahahahahahaha!"
Un-ro roared with laughter.
"You inherited your mother's talent completely—and your martial gift has taken up my true transmission as well."
"You praise me too highly."
"No need for false modesty. I already know the outcome of the Young Clan Lord contest."
He poured tea and offered cups to Yu-heon and Il-mok. They received them with respectful hands and sat.
"But listen…"
"Yes, Grandfather."
"I do not wish to see the mistake your father made repeated."
At those words, the hand holding Il-mok's teacup began to shake.
"Father!"
"Have you forgotten how your first wife died?"
"That was…"
"Your second wife came from the Sichuan Tang Family, and she is venomous beyond measure."
Un-ro jabbed a finger at Il-mok, face dark with old rage.
"As Clan Lord you failed to keep order in your own house, and under the second wife's bullying your first wife hanged herself—did she not?"
Under the sharp accusation Il-mok could only weep; no defense came.
"I even permitted the marriage, moved by the depth of your love for a woman who had been a courtesan of mine…"
Fire kindled in Un-ro's eyes.
"You could not protect her. And in your grief, though your martial talent was outstanding, you laid down your arts long ago of your own will."
"I am sorry."
"Is 'sorry' enough for this?"
Looking at the white chrysanthemum Yu-heon had completed, Un-ro's face was heavy with complicated feeling.
"I even postponed your betrothal to the Sichuan Tang Family out of respect for your heart, and accepted a former courtesan as my first daughter-in-law."
Il-mok could only let the tears fall.
"Yet you failed to guard your love, and in the shock of it you set down the blade yourself and chose seclusion."
Un-ro's voice turned cold.
"Because of that, trusting in the Sichuan Tang Family, your second wife and Mu-jin and Hwi-ryeok run wild with arrogance—do they not?"
"It is all my fault."
"Filthy snake-spawn thrashing about in a great tiger's den… truly a joke."
As Il-mok bowed his head, Un-ro returned his gaze to the white chrysanthemum.
"Since that day, I have learned."
He mastered his anger and continued.
"Never again will I be swayed by the word love and marry off my bloodline as I please."
Yu-heon felt an unnameable unease rise at his grandfather's words.
"Moreover, I have no fondness for the second daughter-in-law, nor for Mu-jin and Hwi-ryeok born of her."
Un-ro clicked his tongue.
"If they carry Paeng blood they should conduct themselves like tigers. Instead they behave like the snake-spawn of the Sichuan Tang Family…"
Under the merciless words Il-mok kept bowing again and again.
"It is all my failure to govern the household, Father."
One of Un-ro's brows lifted.
"Until now I watched for the sake of your dignity as Clan Lord. No longer."
Il-mok stared, appalled.
"What do you mean…?"
"I will not allow the only grandson who has inherited the white tiger's spirit to live as you have lived."
"What?"
Clang—
Yu-heon's teacup shattered on the floor.
"Grandfather, what are you saying…?"
"You must become Clan Lord and lead this house."
Un-ro lifted the white chrysanthemum Yu-heon had finished.
"And so, for a grandson who would repeat his father's mistake…"
His voice shook.
"This grandfather will personally erase your only stain."
Sensing the killing intent woven through the words, Yu-heon shouted.
"Grandfather!"
"It is for this house—and for you."
With a colossal stomp of his foot, Yu-heon's body smashed through the window of the Supreme Elder's hall and burst out into the open air—
Mountain King Dominion Step.
"A splendid Mountain King Dominion Step," Un-ro murmured, draining the cooled tea in a single swallow.
"A wounded great tiger only grows sharper…"
Admiring the white chrysanthemum Yu-heon had left behind, he spoke quietly to Il-mok.
"My son."
"Father!"
"I intend to have Yu-heon cut down Mu-jin and Hwi-ryeok with his own hands—the ones who drove my first daughter-in-law into a corner."
"Why would you force kin-slaying upon this family?"
Killing light thickened in Un-ro's eyes.
"Strike the second daughter-in-law and it means war with the Sichuan Tang Family."
His voice was ice.
"But if, in the contest for Young Clan Lord, Yu-heon himself kills Mu-jin and Hwi-ryeok…"
One brow rose.
"…even the Sichuan Tang Family will have no grounds to object."
He went on slowly.
"I will no longer allow this house to dance in the Tang Family's palm!"
His fist crashed down upon the table. Red lightning qi burst from the blow and reduced the wood to ash.
"I mean to make Yu-heon the one and only Young Clan Lord."
"Father!"
"To that end, Yu-heon himself must sever the filthy snakes who carry Tang blood…"
A cruel smile touched Paeng Un-ro's lips.
"So the orders I have given Mu-jin and Hwi-ryeok were unavoidable."