The Dream's Half-Truth
Hwa Yuhwa wore a slightly worried expression.
Dan Yuseon had broken his promise to work only four hours a day.
He had thrown himself into the new Danhwa Silk Shop for more than six hours daily. Though his illness had passed and his daily un-gi-to-nap training had built up a little inner force, Dan Yuseon was already quite old. No one could guarantee that the aftereffects of his illness would never return.
Hwa Yuhwa made up her mind. She would try a different approach.
“Boss, I think I need to find some medicinal herbs to brew for Father. He looks fine now, but we can’t be sure about five or ten years from now.”
“Can’t we just buy the herbs? Unless it’s something like thousand-year ginseng or Cheonsimcho that money can’t easily obtain.”
“That’s exactly what we need.”
“……”
Thousand-year ginseng might be purchasable for around a thousand gold coins—if one were extremely lucky and the timing was perfect. But Cheonsimcho was another matter entirely. It was treated as pure legend.
The mythical herb was said to grow only in the deepest mountains, where lush green peaks formed a folding screen, and only on cliffs shrouded in clouds. Its last known appearance had been fifty years ago. Even the imperial treasury, which supposedly lacked nothing, did not possess a single Cheonsimcho.
Dan Hyunwoo himself knew the herb only from an old painting left in the palace.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Boss, but… can you really find it?”
“If Father needs it, then I’ll find it. You’re not coming with me?”
Dan Hyunwoo’s gaze drifted to the top of Hwa Yuhwa’s slightly swollen head. He still felt a twinge of guilt for having flicked her there after catching her dabbing saliva on her eyes.
Thinking she might be sulking and telling him to go alone, he was surprised when she answered the question he hadn’t asked.
“I’m not staying behind because you hit me.”
In truth, Dan Hyunwoo hadn’t struck her very hard. Had he truly meant it, she would have been unconscious for at least three years.
“But if you feel bad, you could take responsibility, you know?”
Hwa Yuhwa leaned against him, radiating charm. It was her usual behavior, yet Dan Hyunwoo didn’t push her away. He understood this was her gesture of reconciliation.
“My disciple—and your friend—Eun Hyeongyeom is right on the verge of the next realm. That’s why I can’t go with you.”
Eun Hyeongyeom had already crossed beyond second-rate and was on the brink of becoming a first-rate master. As his teacher, she needed to guide him.
“Northwest of Hangzhou lies Cheonmok Mountain. The terrain is treacherous, so the chances of Cheonsimcho growing there are high. For you, searching the cliffs should be easy. If it’s there, you’ll find it quickly.”
“If it’s there……”
“Actually, there’s a reason I brought this up today. I had a dream. In it, we found both thousand-year ginseng and Cheonsimcho.”
“Has your dream ever been right before?”
Hwa Yuhwa shrugged.
“……Now that I think about it, no.”
Hwa Yuhwa held the unprecedented record of every single one of her dreams being wrong. Naturally, no one paid her dreams any attention anymore.
“But this time, please believe me. For the first time, Grandfather appeared in my dream and spoke to me. He said a heavenly fortune awaits us that will grant both Cheonsimcho and thousand-year ginseng.”
“This might sound rude, but… was Grandfather in the dream holding a dog?”
“How did you know? He was holding our dead family dog.”
So it really was a dog dream.
Dan Hyunwoo let out a long sigh and left Danga Manor to search for Cheonsimcho and thousand-year ginseng.
Behind him, Hwa Yuhwa saw him off with the expression of a devoted wife. The look was so sincere that he couldn’t even bring himself to get angry.
“Heading to Cheonmok Mountain because of a dog dream… I must be out of my mind.”
* * *
At the summit of Cheonmok Mountain, Dan Hyunwoo hung from a cliff and muttered with a troubled look.
“I knew it was a dog dream.”
He hadn’t expected anything from the start. Of course, the mountain wasn’t completely empty. In a tiny crevice no human hand could normally reach, there was a ginseng plant. It would need another nine hundred and ninety years to become a true thousand-year ginseng—currently just a ten-year root.
‘Cheonmok Mountain is a bust. Maybe I should check Makgan Mountain next.’
Makgan Mountain, where the legendary swordsmen Gan Jiang and Mo Ye had forged the famous Moye Sword, lay not far from Cheonmok Mountain.
Yet even after the exhausting journey there, Dan Hyunwoo found nothing.
“Of course.”
Did thousand-year ginseng or Cheonsimcho simply appear when one went looking? Dan Hyunwoo descended the mountain slowly, clutching at straws in hopes that a thousand-year ginseng might somehow exist somewhere.
He had just reached the official road at the foot of the gentle slopes when he stopped.
Clang! Clang!
A carriage that didn’t belong in the mountains. Around it lay more than ten fallen people. Among them, a single woman swung her sword in a desperate fight for survival.
Dan Hyunwoo halted and observed the scene. The woman was cornered and on the verge of collapse.
He rubbed his chin.
“The youngest daughter of the Moyong Clan? Well, this is interesting…… If I’m lucky, Hwa Yuhwa’s dog dream might turn out to be half right.”
* * *
Shortly before Dan Hyunwoo descended the mountain, the new magistrate’s procession wound along the official road through Makgan Mountain toward Hangzhou.
One of the guards escorting the magistrate’s carriage spoke to the woman with an apologetic tone.
“You could have gone ahead. We’re grateful you chose to travel with us out of concern.”
“It’s nothing. We’re heading the same way anyway.”
Moyong Sehui, the youngest daughter of the Moyong Clan, smiled as she replied. She was traveling to Ungae County in Hangzhou under a secret order from the Murim Alliance. Coincidentally, the new magistrate had also been assigned to Ungae County. Upon learning they shared the same destination, Moyong Sehui had joined the procession and was now reflecting on her mission.
‘A Six-Horse Golden Plaque has appeared in Hangzhou. My task is to find its owner.’
The order had come from her father, Moyong Seryong, the leader of the Murim Alliance.
‘But does the plaque even truly exist?’
Only three people knew the source of the information: her father, the strategist Jegal Ryong, and now herself. The weight of responsibility pressed down on her shoulders. This was a mission her father had entrusted only to his most reliable blood relative, and one that demanded absolute secrecy.
She had joined the magistrate’s escort hoping that building rapport might help her locate the plaque’s owner.
As she matched the procession’s pace, a simple doubt crossed her mind.
‘This procession feels strange. It’s just a magistrate taking up his post.’
By custom, a magistrate should walk to his posting. Yet ten guards protected the carriage carrying this one. The truth was that the magistrate had been chosen with extreme care because of the Six-Horse Golden Plaque, and the guards were there to ensure he arrived safely—but Moyong Sehui had no way of knowing that.
Just as she was thinking that something felt off—
Shhhk!
Sharp sounds of projectiles tore through the air. Not one, but many.
‘The sound is heavier than ordinary arrows.’
Clang!
Moyong Sehui drew her sword and deflected the incoming bolts. A strange sensation lingered at her fingertips.
‘Iron bolts. An iron bow!’
The iron bow was a rare weapon known for its terrifying piercing power—dozens or hundreds of times that of a normal bow. Bandits would never use such a thing.
“What’s happening?”
The magistrate poked his head out of the carriage.
Moyong Sehui hurriedly shoved his face back inside.
“If you don’t want a hole in your head, stay down!”
“Ah…… Understood.”
What good would a lifelong scholar do out here? Fortunately, the magistrate at least listened well.
Thud.
Magistrate Song Wolun now understood exactly what Moyong Sehui meant. An iron bolt had just passed through the carriage right in front of his eyes. A normal arrow would have simply embedded itself in the wood.
He swallowed dryly. The screams outside doubled his terror.
“Aaaagh!”
“Aaaah!”
Iron bolts mercilessly pierced the guards’ bodies.
Moyong Sehui was also desperately deflecting the bolts, but the attackers were cunning. They split their shots between her and the guards, aiming to pin her down while eliminating the others first.
She could only listen helplessly as the screams gradually faded. Whenever she glanced toward the guards, several more bolts flew at her, forcing her to focus on defense. One by one, the cries grew fewer.
‘Damn it.’
The guards lay dying in pools of their own blood. When the final scream of the guard who had spoken kindly to her fell silent, Moyong Sehui shouted.
“Stop hiding and come out! The guards are all dead anyway! I’m the only one left!”
As if answering her voice, seven figures emerged from the grass ten jang away. The leader, a long-haired man with a long scar across his face, held an iron bow.
Moyong Sehui memorized both his face and position.
“You’re better than expected. Few in the martial world can block these iron bolts. From the looks of it, you’re not one of the magistrate’s guards.”
“What do you want with the magistrate?”
“Chodong County, Tianjin, Hebei Province. The Chor Yang Merchant Group.”
Though she couldn’t see him, Moyong Sehui felt the magistrate inside the carriage flinch.
“The magistrate made a mistake. He uncovered the merchant group’s corruption and executed the entire family, but he missed the second son.”
“And that second son hired you?”
“He still had plenty of money left from all his embezzling.”
Moyong Sehui bit her lip at the mention of Hebei Province.
‘If seven experts from Hebei are traveling together, then they must be the Six Sword Bow Monsters!’
Their individual reputations were low, but Moyong Sehui knew they were one of the Five Great Experts of Hebei—and that they were difficult to handle even as a group.
The man known as the Bow Monster nocked five iron bolts at once.
“We’re only doing this for money. We hold no personal grudge against you. Don’t resent us too much.”
Whoosh!
Five iron bolts flew toward Moyong Sehui. At the same time, the six swordsmen, now unhindered, charged with their blades.
Clang! Clang!
“Kuh!”
Moyong Sehui blocked all six swords at once, but the impact sent her stumbling backward, her wrists burning with pain.
She executed a footwork technique and glanced aside in alarm.
‘Damn it—the bolts!’
Thud! Clang.
Some of the five bolts embedded in trees; she managed to deflect one more at the last moment. But she couldn’t stop them all.
One iron bolt pierced her left shoulder.
Thud!
Bright red blood sprayed out, soaking her clothes.
Without pause, the Bow Monster nocked seven more bolts.
“This is the end.”
He loosed the seven bolts into the air, then fired five more directly at Moyong Sehui’s front.
At first glance, it seemed pointless—shooting bolts into the sky. But Moyong Sehui quickly understood. Twelve iron bolts now rained down from both above and ahead, while six swordsmen blocked her front.
‘There’s no escape!’
The bolts approached mercilessly, just as the Bow Monster had declared.
Strangely, Moyong Sehui felt no tension. She wasn’t even thinking that death might be unexpectedly peaceful. Her only regret was failing to complete the secret mission her father had entrusted to her.
Then—
Clang! Clang!
The iron bolts that had been flying toward her head and front shattered into fragments and scattered in an unreal spectacle. Even as the shards grazed her cheek and left small cuts, she couldn’t quite believe it was real.
Then—
Rumble!
The ground shook as if an earthquake had struck. The six swordsmen lost their balance and fell, while the Bow Monster staggered.
Moyong Sehui turned toward the cloud of dust rising like smoke. In the midst of the swirling dirt stood a man.
He looked down at the Six Sword Bow Monsters with cold eyes, his head tilted arrogantly…… and the corner of his mouth curled into a chilling smile.