The White Fan and the Heavenly Demon's Shadow
“First things first, we need a fan.”
“A…… fan?”
Gang-rip blinked in confusion.
“Yeah. And that Geum family sword manual. Geum Wu Sword Technique, right?”
His request for the sword manual made sense, so Gang-rip nodded eagerly. Secret martial manuals from sects or clans weren't easy to access even for family members, but basic ones from long-established houses could be obtained without much hassle. As direct disciples multiplied and branch families spread, it was only natural for the techniques to disseminate widely.
The Danmok clan's own Falling Star Twelve Swords was taught to all the escort warriors under the family banner, and in Hangzhou's markets, you could buy a copy with the right amount of silver.
“A white one, with no patterns or drawings.”
“Do you prefer silk, young miss?”
“Any plain white fan will do.”
Ryeon replied as she folded the letter from the Geum family. It was a proper missive, likely penned by one of their retainers, and as it creased, the lingering text from her Divine Eye faded away.
Staring at my sleeves every time, or projecting onto mirrors or thin air—readability's just too poor.
That's when she'd thought of a fan.
A mere eight-year-old fanning herself might look a bit silly, but carrying around blank letters wasn't much better.
The next day, Chief Steward Gang-rip brought a white jade fan, its handle carved into a perfect circle, and a pristine new booklet.
The fan looked exceptionally rare, perhaps a gift from the Mansong Merchant Group.
◈ Spiritual Energy Capacity: 3
◈ You can now store Spiritual Energy here.
No way—this fan alone can hold some Spiritual Energy?
“Ah! This is perfect.”
After projecting text onto fluttering sleeves or reflective mirrors, seeing it on this smooth surface made her hum a little tune.
“……You really like that fan…… that much?”
Hwaryun, standing nearby, eyed her with a dubious expression.
It was rare to see Ryeon, who showed little greed for possessions, this delighted.
Ryeon glanced at him and boldly unfurled the fan.
“Hmm.”
Text flowed smoothly onto the white surface.
Still nothing but failures…… huh?
Familiar letters settled on the white, round fan. Then an unfamiliar term caught her eye.
Heavenly Demon……?
She brought it close to confirm, but no miracle changed the words.
“You really love it, huh.”
“Ah, no, it's not—you……”
After endless failures, the first trait to appear was Heavenly Demon?
Ryeon stared blankly between Hwaryun and the fan, then slumped her shoulders.
She'd sensed something extraordinary about him, but thought he wasn't bad at heart. This seemed to contradict that directly.
“What's wrong? You were thrilled a second ago……”
Hwaryun peered into her pristine white jade fan. It was smooth and transparently pale—nothing else.
“Oh, n-nothing……”
Not yet! He's still young—maybe it'll change.
Yes, that must be it. Ryeon thought gloomily as she opened the Geum family's basic manual.
If Hwaryun was born with Heavenly Demon qualities, she'd need time to alter them.
As Ryeon mulled this over, rereading the manual thrice and setting the fan aside—
“Want me to fight in your place?”
Ryeon looked up.
Hwaryun leaned on the railing, cradling Baekryeon, gazing outside while dangling his feet idly. Bored of sitting by her, he propped his chin with a languid expression.
Ryeon glanced at the distant guard Jeong Yeong, then back at Hwaryun. Their words wouldn't carry.
“Against who? Geum Jongha?”
“Yeah.”
“Who?”
“Me.”
“How? You hate learning martial arts—you haven't learned anything.”
“I've still watched and listened. I can manage somewhat.”
“By that logic, I'd be stronger, right? More than baby Hwaryun?”
Ryeon grinned teasingly, and Hwaryun finally turned, face full of exasperation.
“Even stronger than that Geum family young master?”
“That's why I'm studying it right now.”
“What if you lose?”
“Then I lose.”
“Agh, so frustrating.”
Hwaryun clutched his chest like an adult. Ryeon burst out laughing, but he dropped his sulky act and approached quickly.
She waved him off.
“If I lose to Geum Jongha, then weaker-you would definitely lose too.”
“I might not lose.”
“How?”
“How doesn't matter.”
“So you could beat me right now?”
“Of course……”
Hwaryun trailed off, deflating like a punctured wineskin, shoulders drooping.
“Fine. Do whatever, sis.”
“Was our Hwaryun worried I'd lose?”
Watching him melted away her earlier Heavenly Demon concerns.
Ryeon closed the book, beamed, and scooted closer. Hwaryun grimaced but didn't pull away as she ruffled his messy hair.
She grinned ear to ear.
Right! Whatever he becomes, whatever his trait—does it matter? He's such a good kid deep down.
His eerily sharp mind might have realized that if the heir lost this spar, the Danmok name would wobble in Zhejiang Province.
Better for a servant like him to step in.
Ryeon tousled his hair wildly and went for a hug, but he bolted, horrified. Her giggles echoed.
That evening, an unexpected guest arrived at the estate: a ragged-robed Taoist named Taeheo Jin-in, with an unusually fluttering sleeves, accompanied by a young boy disciple.
“Taeheo Jin-in? Who's that?”
Jeong Yeong and Jang ssi looked equally puzzled. They didn't know.
But they were clearly from far away, and Grandfather Danmok Cheon-gi had greeted him warmly.
“People say he's from the Kunlun Sect……”
Hwaryun beside her stiffened slightly. Ryeon turned questioningly, but he just looked back innocently, so she tilted her head and headed to the reception hall.
The family was already gathered. Wijicheong rushed out, scooped Ryeon up, then sheepishly set her down upon noticing the guest.
“Aigoo, no wonder the lady can't let go. If this were Kunlun Mountain, they'd hoist her onto the altar as a living saint.”
The guest, Taeheo Jin-in, jested soothingly to Wijicheong.
Ryeon bowed while scrutinizing him. A visitor from her past life? No.
“Ryeon, greet him. This is Taeheo Jin-in of the Kunlun Sect, an old friend of Grandfather's.”
“Old…… f-friend? Don't say that—makes it hard to show proper respect, elder!”
Taeheo Jin-in startled, waving his hands wildly. His overly long sleeves flapped dramatically but didn't disturb a single teacup on the table.
“We knew each other's hearts and shared a great cause—what else but friends?”
Taeheo Jin-in's lips twitched. Ryeon pieced it together: comrades from the Blood Ghost Incident, with Grandfather at the forefront long ago.
“Greetings, Taeheo Jin-in. I am Danmok Ryeon.”
She clasped her hands neatly and bowed. He beamed broadly, nodding repeatedly.
“To think you've grown this much already—time flies.”
His expression mixed fondness, bitterness, and frustration.
“Even those who knew Hyeon-seong's daughter never knew her age……”
“Enough of that. What good does it do now?”
Danmok Cheon-gi rapped his chair arm lightly, cutting him off.
“More importantly, what brings you all this way after so long?”
“Haha…… One dawn, I just thought I must visit you someday. So here I am.”
“From Kunlun Mountain to Ye—a journey of ten thousand li—for that?”
“Exactly.”
“Who'd blame you for not coming all that way?”
“True enough. But……”
Taeheo Jin-in smiled faintly, as if puzzled himself.
“I couldn't shake the feeling that I should. No helping it. So I came.”