The Time-Limited Elixir of the Ruined Clan Chapter 39: "You said to set these empty bottles aside, right?"
"But why is he looking at me like that...?"
Though the gaze held a peculiar lack of delight, Yeo-un—who had lived his life openly flaunting his innate talents—had never encountered such a look before. He failed to recognize it as the kind of glance one might give a fool.
"Yeah, those are set aside separately. Make sure these jars don't go to the merchant guild."
"Yes, ma'am."
The boy nodded indifferently, and Danmok Ryeon brushed his cheek with the back of her hand. It was like petting a young, tiny beast, but since their heights were similar, she had to stretch a bit further. The servant boy, who had maintained an unchanging, impassive expression throughout, softened just a touch in that moment.
"Shall we have breakfast first, then get started? You've been busy since dawn checking how much came in..."
Yeo-un honestly wanted to skip eating and finish these chores quickly so he could talk martial arts with Ryeon, but a rumble from his stomach forced him to nod.
* * *
The crisp, chilly morning air hung clear. On the day appointed for Ryeon and Geum Jongha's spar, people gathered noisily outside the Danmok family estate even before dawn.
'Burned it all white...'
She'd even gone hiking midway. Her Spiritual Energy had run low.
'Never thought I'd live to see a day when I lacked Spiritual Energy.'
Honestly, considering her past life of suffering near-death from excess Spiritual Energy only to die for real, it felt a bit unfair.
'If I'd known back then...'
Ryeon let go of the futile what-ifs. Whatever the reason, she'd gotten a second chance, and things were going well now—that was enough.
'End-of-month settlement, as agreed.'
Usually quarterly, but Mansong Merchant Group had suggested settling this month instead, fearing the sum would grow too massive. The thought of money so vast it was scary sent delightful chills—and real ones—down her spine.
'At this rate, I need another month.'
The past week had brutally taught her what it meant to become a cog in the machine.
'Ha... not the time for sparring with Geum Gajang.'
She still had Qinglian Water to produce and deliver. Ryeon chewed on her regrets before shaking them off.
'Since it's come to this, spar with Geum Gajang today and definitely discuss swordsmanship with Daoist Yeo-un...'
Yeo-un, who had asked to help with her studies once her busy schedule eased, had also become a pharmacy part for the entire week. Midway, Ryeon had felt awkward and tried sending him away several times, but his stubbornness—and Taeheo Jin-in's hearty laughter, insisting he needed such experience—kept him laboring.
With everyone working together, Yeo-un couldn't question Ryeon much, and a week had passed. Today, she was determined to repay the favor.
"It's really bustling, though."
"Looks like folks from everywhere gathered. Word of something fun spreads. Even Mansong Merchant Group sent people."
Hwaryun answered. Just children's sparring, but in Hangzhou—quiet these past few years—it was big news. No wonder Gyeon Wiun had rushed over upon hearing.
"She's busy—how'd she make time?"
"Guess she really handed all Qinglian Water duties to Manager Gyeon."
Mansong had only one top manager surnamed Gyeon: Gyeon Wiun, who handled operations from the ground up. The other regular manager Gyeon had gotten badly hurt tumbling on the road recently.
"Losing this spar would be disastrous, right?"
"So what if I lose?"
Truth be told, she'd been a bit tense a week ago. But after staring down a mountain, small hills hold no fear.
'A week slaving away at work made everything else seem trivial...'
Survival trumped victory or defeat in martial clans. No great figure frets over wins and losses.
"Oh..."
"Lose this time, win the next."
"And if I win this one?"
"Win the next too. Smash 'em."
Ryeon clenched her fist. Hwaryun chuckled.
'Geum Gajang...'
Hangzhou in Zhejiang Province—flanked by the Kyunghang Grand Canal flowing to the Yangtze and the sea, graced by beautiful West Lake—had never lacked a regional overlord. Until twenty years ago, Danmok Clan held it. Now, as Danmok declined, newcomers Geum Gajang rose swiftly.
Geum Gajang famed for fluid, elegant Geum-u Do arts. Easy to think them gentle, but in Hangzhou, they were notorious for ruthless hands.
Especially since Danmok Hyeon-seong, Danmok's great talent, died in a duel with the current Geum Gajang lord years ago.
Hyeon-seong had dazzled from youth, Hangzhou's hope for another supreme master. Yet, before thirty, he joined his father defending against Blood Valley (Hyeolragok), targeting a Machun-gyo temple unearthed—its treasures unknown even to the cult.
While Machun-gyo rushed from afar, Hyeon-seong and Baekdo Alliance held it. Even cult treasures couldn't fall to Blood Valley.
Machun-gyo arrived late; Baekdo clashed instead, paying dearly. Hyeon-seong's star fell.
Some claimed meaning in drawing Machun-gyo, but none dared in Zhejiang.
Hyeon-seong never recovered; Geum lord, knowing, challenged and slew him!
Many remembered that duel—perfect gossip fodder.
Ryeon's eyes darkened. Geum Gajang folk entered Danmok estate stone-faced, silent.
She glanced aside. Mother Wijicheong and grandfather Danmok Cheon-gi lips tight. Not vengeful stares, though.
'Mother...?'
Not the place to fan herself, Ryeon subtly eyed the dirt.
Words swirled up:
'Huh? So this spar wasn't Geum Gajang lord's scheme against me?'
She'd thought it Geum Gajang's ploy, but Geum Jongha acted alone.
'Father's disgrace?'
Whatever misunderstanding, resolution came after the spar.
"Long time no see..."
Geum Gajang lord Geum Jeokgeol greeted Danmok Cheon-gi. Ryeon caught faint fluster in his voice—precisely in his expression toward her.
Danmok Cheon-gi flicked his sleeve.
"Seems you've been well, Geum Gajang lord."
Too curt for acquaintances or foes, but neither minded.
Geum Jeokgeol withdrew his gaze from Ryeon.
"My boy here's been swinging a sword lately, no peers to match, so he came here. Grateful you accept."
Danmok Cheon-gi's brow twitched. Geum Jongha looked frustrated but shut his mouth at his father's glance.
"Sharing knowledge is the way and duty of the learned. As you know well."
Geum Jeokgeol flushed red, then paled slowly. Dust rose quietly at his feet—unstoppable.
"Why not showcase that teaching to all interested?"
Open the estate gates, spar amid spectators. Crowds already packed the walls.
As Danmok Cheon-gi's brows shot up, Ryeon cut in.
"Sounds good!"
"Ryeon-ah."
Wijicheong softly called from behind. Ryeon smiled reassuringly. A public spectacle? All the better.
Geum Jeokgeol stared down at Ryeon, then crookedly lifted a lip corner.