Flute Triumph and the Geum Heir's Challenge

"Ah, are you talking about Qinglian Water?"

"Ah! Yes! That's the one. Any chance you could get me just one bottle? My son barely scraped through the provincial exam, and now he's got the metropolitan one coming up. I've heard it's that good. Of course, it's not like it'll turn him into a top scorer or anything..."

It's basically, my kid using it won't threaten your kid's scores, so don't worry and just hook me up.

Gyeon Eonjo narrowed her eyes with a smile. "For you? What wouldn't I do? But it's out of stock now. You've heard the rumors, right? It's made by my sworn brother's granddaughter..."

Before the chief accountant could respond, Gyeon Eonjo quickly added, "And even if we had it, it's not cheap..."

"Is money an issue for us?"

Like a legendary elixir that guarantees a top-three spot wouldn't cost a fortune!

Gyeon Eonjo held up two fingers. "One nyang of silver for a bottle this small."

The chief accountant mentally tallied it up. Pocket change compared to the sums he handled in business, but enough to employ a servant for a full month.

"But now someone's offering two nyang each, so they're first in line..."

"I'll give three nyang. Make it happen? Or how about five nyang for two bottles?"

"Hm." Gyeon Eonjo tilted her head in thoughtful silence, and the chief accountant leaned in with a grin.

"Aigoo, you said your niece put her heart into making it, right? It's not like we can churn out bottles on demand. One for five nyang sounds fair, doesn't it?"

"I'll talk to my sworn brother, but don't get your hopes too high."

Gyeon Eonjo replied with a subtle smile. The chief accountant mirrored it perfectly.

Their talk soon shifted to celebrating Gyeon Wihak's top-three provincial exam triumph with a feast.

Piiiieek!

"I did it! I heard the sound... Whoa!"

Ryeon, who'd only managed faint whistles on the flute until now, finally blew a strong note. She jumped up in excitement, only to wobble from shortness of breath.

The white cat Baekryeon, who'd been napping cozily in Hwaryun's lap, leaped up to brace her leg. At the same moment, Hwaryun steadied her left arm while Danmok Hyeon-u shot up from his seat to support her right.

Ryeon leaned on them briefly, panting dizzily, then beamed up at her uncle. "Uncle! Uncle! Did you hear it?"

"Of course I did! To think you're already making sounds—you've got real talent for this!"

Danmok Hyeon-u beamed with proud seriousness.

Ryeon flushed with embarrassment. Hwaryun stroked Baekryeon, now back in his lap, and chuckled knowingly, as if reading her mind.

She was thrilled to make a sound, sure—but hearing it called exceptional right to her face was mortifying.

"N-no, it's not that great... Just barely a sound."

"Making even one note is incredibly hard. This is huge! Soon we could play duets."

"No, really, not that."

Ryeon denied it firmly, but Danmok Hyeon-u seemed deaf to it. He poured her some warm tea to catch her breath, then dashed off to fetch the Yuryangbo scorebook with easy melodies.

"Ah... Uncle..."

Ryeon's wistful call faded into the air as Hwaryun snickered beside her.

"Won't Hangzhou go wild next year saying Hyang Soran reincarnated?"

Hyang Soran, a master of sound arts, could kill or save with a single flute note—or so the legends went. Now ascended to immortality, supposedly.

But Ryeon didn't respond, and Hwaryun's teasing grin turned awkward.

"Well, the Pharmacy Lord did say something like..."

Ryeon wasn't ignoring him; she was lost in thought.

"Hwaryun, want to learn flute too? Or pipa? Pipa! What about pipa?"

Music lessons in childhood build character and emotional growth, right? That was her angle now. She couldn't be the only one learning flute. She'd only seen blood from her own coughing in her short life before, but things were different here! Starting young could change everything.

It... should, right?

Hwaryun yanked his hand away. "Seriously, Nui."

"Not pipa? Then geomgo?"

Hwaryun scooted back while seated. "I'm confident listening to you play."

"Not even a little interested? Think about it—duets would be fun! Me on flute, you on pipa."

"Pipa? Isn't the Pharmacy Lord the world's best? You two can do it."

"Fine, geomgo."

"My fingertips would hurt."

Ryeon rubbed her forehead. Accepting that this kid—who now balked at sore fingers—had once risen to Young Cult Master in the Demon Heavenly Cult was tough.

Or maybe it's a good sign? The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠old him hated pain; now even plucking strings is too much.

"Did you ask Bia what he wants?"

"His fingers aren't even steady yet."

"No, he's got some talent already..."

Hwaryun looked incredulous. Ryeon gestured with her hands, sizing up a geomgo and pipa, then nodded.

"Pipa for Bia, then."

Just as Hwaryun nearly burst out laughing—

Jeong Yeong and Chief Steward Gang-rip came running from afar, faces pale.

Ryeon sensed the shift in air and stood.

"Young miss! Young miss! You need to head to Wolyeongjae right now."

"What's wrong?"

As Jeong Yeong draped her outer robe over ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her shoulders, Hwaryun looked up distantly. The boy's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Nui, looks like a guest."

"From the Geum family?"

Gang-rip stood stoically, expressionless, but Jeong Yeong looked worried. Ryeon unfolded the letter Danmok Cheon-gi handed her.

"Hm... So, Geum Jongha, the Geum lord's eldest son, wants instruction... from me?"

"Technically from the Danmok family..."

But with peers her age, she was the only option in the estate.

Ryeon pursed her lower lip, deep in thought. The Geum family was practically her father's killers. If they hadn't insisted on that duel back then, he might still be alive...

Danmok Hyeon-seong had died in his bout with the Geum lord.

Ryeon gripped the letter tightly, brows furrowed. This never happened before. Theirs was an awkward enmity—ignoring each other like abstract foes.

"Well. Guess we have to."

"But young miss..." Gang-rip trailed off.

Geum Jongha, the Geum lord's firstborn, was turning ten soon. Spoiled with elixirs in their wealth, he was already famed locally for his talent. How could Danmok Ryeon—who'd barely risen from her sickbed and learned one sword form—handle him?

"Can't exactly refuse. No one else in the family can take him."

A famed murim clan dodging a duel? Only an earthquake, flood, or locust plague would excuse it.

So they had to. Just like her father.

Surprisingly clever move, actually?

Danmok Cheon-gi had achieved enlightenment! The former world's greatest, savior of murim, had overcome his wounds for a new realm.

The Danmok family was on the path to promised revival. No one would rashly challenge him now—but his unseen eldest granddaughter, shut away all these years? No one in Hangzhou even knew her face.

They figured she was fair game.

"Can you handle it?"

Danmok Cheon-gi ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠asked quietly, hand in his sleeve. Ryeon thought his eyes twinkled mischievously.

Since his enlightenment, a strange bond flowed between grandfather and granddaughter.

A shared secret unspoken.

"I can."

"Good. Send a letter setting the date."

Gang-rip glanced worriedly at Ryeon, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠then rose to draft the reply. Meanwhile, her eyes pierced beyond the letter.

The characters blurred but were legible. The very script that pulled her from her future underworld grave spoke: