A Woman's Enemy Is a Woman
"Chop the scallions."
Morning light slanted into the kitchen, and the hour that ought to have been a peaceful start to the day was drawn tight as a bowstring.
Yeon Sowol sat at the table with her legs crossed, a white apron thrown over her red martial robes. She tended her nails and jerked her chin at a bundle of scallions.
"Rookie. Your discipline is a disgrace. When a senior tells you to move, you move. What are you doing, standing there in a daze?"
Across from her stood Yujin in a wanderer's robes. Cropped black hair, clothes hanging loose, a face that gave nothing away. To any eye, she was the very image of a taciturn boy swordsman.
Yujin looked at Yeon Sowol without expression.
"Am I the new hire?"
"Oh? Talking back? I'll have you know I started a day before you did."
Yeon Sowol shot her a glare. In truth she had barged in only last night and planted herself by force, and now she was already pulling rank.
"I was evaluated the day before yesterday and formally hired yesterday. You, on the other hand... broke in uninvited, threatened the boss, and forced him to let you stay. Is that not so?"
"Wh— what?! Hey! I'm Master's... the Cult Lord's... no — the owner's personal disciple! His head disciple! Some wanderer who used to scrounge in ditches thinks he can talk rank with me?"
Yeon Sowol flared and reached into her robes for a dagger. The air was turning murderous when a dull crash sounded from deeper in the kitchen.
Wham!
"Don't make a racket from the crack of dawn."
I slammed a lump of dough onto the board and stuck my head out. Flour-dusted, hollow-eyed, I glared at the pair of them.
"Yeon Sowol. Put the dagger away. Draw a weapon in my kitchen and I throw you out."
"C-Maaaster~ I was only trying to teach a little discipline, and this one keeps getting uppity."
She whined, sweet as syrup. I was having none of it.
"Teach, my foot. Mind yourself. I'm taking yesterday's broken plate out of your pay."
"Ehh... that's so mean."
"And Yujin. Don't mind that one. Prep the ingredients. If we're going to be ready for the lunch trade, we're busy."
"Yes, Shopkeeper."
Yujin bowed without another word, took up the bundle of scallions, and went to her corner of the kitchen. Yeon Sowol pushed her lips out and glared at that retreating back.
Hmph. Obnoxious brat. All that pretty face, and for what.
She still took Yujin for a man. A figure hidden under shabby wanderer's robes, hair cut short, a voice low and calm — the sort of pretty boy swordsman with a story that the murim was littered with. And yet something grated. The way Master — Baek Wun — treated that one looked strangely at ease, while all she ever received was nagging.
You dare covet my place? I'll crush that spirit before the day is out.
Yeon Sowol rose from the chair and sidled toward Yujin.
Yujin was crouched, trimming scallions. Snick, snick, snick. The knife-work was brisk — quick, and exact. White and green came away at a thickness so even it might have been ruled.
Yeon Sowol was startled in spite of herself.
Not bad.
She could not afford to show it. Arms folded, she began, with great ceremony, to coach.
"Hey. Those are too thick. If they stick in a customer's teeth, are you going to take the blame? Cut them thinner."
"This is the right thickness. Any thinner, and you kill the bite."
Yujin did not so much as look up. The knife kept moving.
"Oh my. When a senior gives an order, you say 'yes' and cut them again. Where do you get off talking back? Don't you know up from down?"
"Where the flavor of the dumplings is concerned, I cannot compromise."
"I swear, you—"
Yeon Sowol's brow twitched. Every single word out of this one was a wall. Not a gap anywhere. She decided to change tactics. Find a soft spot, and needle it.
Let's see... looks like a frail little scholar. The body's probably all skin and bones.
A wicked smile curved her mouth. She crept in close behind Yujin and, pretending they were familiar, laid a hand on that shoulder.
"Narrow shoulders. A person who swings a sword, and not a muscle on you. Do you even eat?"
"Remove your hand."
Yujin's voice had gone cold.
"My, how prickly. A woman can touch a man a little. It's not as if you'll wear out."
Yeon Sowol was not deterred. Her hand traveled lower — from the shoulder, down the line of the back, and then, ever so casually, toward the side and the chest. She meant to tickle, or else to mock that scrawny frame.
"Let's have a look. Any chest on you at all? You're not a weakling, are you?"
That was the moment.
Yujin stopped cutting and snatched Yeon Sowol's wrist, quick as lightning. The grip was stronger than it had any right to be. Strong enough that Yeon Sowol flinched. Yujin turned her head and looked up, and a chill light moved in those clear eyes.
"Is this indecent assault?"
"...Indecent assault?"
Yeon Sowol snorted.
"Hey. You think I'd have designs on a weakling like you? I was checking. Whether that body's fit to work or not."
"Even if I were a man, this would be unpleasant. I am working. Do not interfere. If the knife slips, a finger comes off."
Yujin knocked the hand away, rough about it. Yeon Sowol took a step back. Her pride stung. A mere shop hand, daring to slap her hand aside? But a doubt greater than the anger flicked through her mind.
Just now — the briefest instant — when her fingertips had brushed near Yujin's ribs, the sensation that met them.
......?
Not the feel of hard bone or muscle. The texture of soft cloth, wrapped tight around something. And beneath it, a gentle curve.
Chest bindings?
What reason did a man have to bind his chest? An injury? No. There was no sign of a wound. Then...
Yeon Sowol sniffed. Scallion and pork hung thick in the shop, but her keen nose caught something else: a faint scent rising off Yujin. Not sweat. Not the smell of a man living alone. Soap-bean? No. Something more primal than that. The smell of skin. A woman's skin.
No.
Her eyes narrowed. Her gaze traveled the length of Yujin's body as if it could see through cloth. The loose wanderer's robes hid most of it, but looking again, she saw. A slender line of neck. An Adam's apple that did not jut. And the line of the hips — subtly unlike a man's.
"Ha!"
A hollow breath broke from her, and the corner of her mouth curled, sharp and unpleasant. She stepped in close once more, and this time the whisper was very low, right at the ear.
"Hey. Wanderer."
"......"
Yujin ignored her and went on slicing scallions.
The knife stopped. A very fine stillness.
But Yujin did not panic. She did not even turn her head. Calmly, she finished the scallion she had been cutting.
"Does gender matter?"
Neither yes nor no. And that was a plain yes.
"It matters. It matters a great deal."
Yeon Sowol stepped back and folded her arms. Her eyes had changed completely. A moment ago they had been the eyes one turns on an insolent junior. Now they were the eyes one turns on an enemy to be removed.
"Dressed as a man, and stuck to Master's side... hmm."
She clicked her tongue.
"You sly little bitch. What's the scheme? Slip in and climb onto our Master while he's asleep? You thought if you dressed like a man, he'd let his guard down?!"
"I came to earn my keep. I have no interest in the shopkeeper."
"Liar."
Yeon Sowol said it flat.
"You can't fool a woman's instinct. The way you look at Master isn't ordinary. Earlier, when he went to lift something heavy, you started over to help and stopped yourself. You think I didn't see?"
"I was conserving strength."
"Don't make me laugh. Drop the act."
She pulled the knife planted beside the cutting board — a kitchen knife, of course, not even her own.
"Fine. Now that I know what you are, I'm done being nice."
She leveled the point at Yujin.
"I'm warning you. Don't eye my territory. This is my Master's shop, and I am the head disciple. You're just a stone that rolled in."
"......"
"Especially if I catch you wagging your tail at Master... that time, I really will cut you. Understand?"
Yujin rose, tipping the cut scallions into a basket. She stood half a hand shorter than Yeon Sowol, and did not yield an inch in presence. Those clear eyes met Yeon Sowol's straight on.
"Do not rank shop hands against one another. And..."
She took the kitchen knife out of Yeon Sowol's hand. The motion was so natural that Yeon Sowol never even reacted.
"Do not swing a knife as you please. You will nick the edge. The shopkeeper dislikes that."
"You little—!"
Indifferent, Yujin turned her back and walked toward the sink. Yeon Sowol ground her teeth and clenched a fist. That insolence. That walled-off indifference. This was no ordinary opponent. If Namgung Seol was a vixen who threw herself at him in the open, this one was a bear of a fox — pretending otherwise, and striking from behind.
Just you wait. I will not stand and watch you and Master grow fond of each other. Not in front of my eyes.
Yeon Sowol's fighting spirit blazed. In her fury she brought a fist down on the onion beside her.
Whump! The onion burst, and juice flew.
"Ow, that stings!"
The juice had gone into her eyes. Tears streaming, she hopped in place.
"Maaaster! Yujin's bullying me! Something got sprayed in my eyes!"
"I sprayed nothing. You smashed it yourself."
"No! Yujin popped the onion with qi! Waaah, my eyes are burning!"
I sighed from inside the kitchen. Loud enough to kill a man. Truly. Too lazy even to step out, I only shouted.
"Go wash your eyes! And you broke the onion, so you can eat it!"
"Hnn... Master only ever takes that one's side..."
Sniffling, Yeon Sowol ran for the washbasin. Yujin watched her go, and laughed — small, very small. Then she bent quietly back to the dishes.
But I didn't know. That this was no simple fuss. That it was the opening act of the shadow war to come among the shop hands of Murim Alliance King Mandu.
The icy beauty of the Orthodox Murim, the Saintess of the Demonic Cult, and a swordsman of uncertain origin dressed as a man. All three women's blades were pointed at me, and thick-headed as I was, I alone failed to see it.
Then came the clear chime of the door.
Ring—
It wasn't even lunchtime, and a customer had come. I looked up on reflex.
The one who entered...
"Hey, Shopkeeper! I'm here!"
Jang Mugi. And he was not alone.
Beside him stood a grimy beggar. Tattered clothes, a tangle of hair, and a stench that stabbed the nose.
"Little brother! I've brought a distinguished guest!"
Jang Mugi laughed, big and booming, and clapped the beggar on the shoulder.
"Know who this is? None other than a Branch Leader of the Beggars' Sect!"
"The Beggars'... Sect?"
I frowned. What was a beggar chieftain doing here? And that smell — what was I supposed to do with it? The tables I had just wiped were about to be contaminated.
Yujin and Yeon Sowol came out as well, both of them covering their noses.
"Gah, what is that smell?"
Yeon Sowol. Yujin said nothing, and quietly opened a window. Jang Mugi, without a shred of tact, talked on.
"This gentleman heard the rumors about our dumplings and came himself! Says if the taste is good enough, he'll lend us the Beggars' Sect's eyes and ears. Well? Tempting, isn't it?"
Tempting, my ass. Was I looking for a way to drive every customer out?
But the beggar's eyes were not ordinary. He bared rotten teeth in a crooked grin.
"Heh heh. Just as the rumors said — a fine-looking shopkeeper. Spare me a single dumpling as alms, and I'll give you a piece of information that'll knock you flat."
"What information would that be?"
"Information about the Heavenly Demon."
For a moment, my heart dropped. At the kitchen entrance, Yeon Sowol's eyes went sharp as well. The beggar leaned in and whispered, heavy with meaning.
"They say the real Heavenly Demon... is hiding right around here. Heh heh heh."
This bastard. Did he come because he knows? Or is he just jabbing in the dark?
I picked up a dishcloth and wore a calm face. Inside, cold sweat was running. Settling the shop hands' clash of tempers was already more than enough, and now a pack of beggars had latched on. And a rumor that threatened who I was, on top of it.
So much for another peaceful day of folding dumplings.