“Why... Why Are You Asking?”
It was much like the question from moments before.
Danmok Han-so filled his cup with liquor, teasing as he spoke. “Good heavens. Did the young miss really give you something sweet? Is that why you're refusing to talk to me now?”
“Captain, that's not what I...” Jeong Yeong waved his hands in mild panic. “You're suddenly talking about the young miss's business like it's my own, and it's throwing me off.”
“Her business is your business. Aren't you in charge of her quarters?”
“That's right. So you must understand why I can't go blabbing about it elsewhere.”
Jeong Yeong tried to choose his words as carefully as possible, but it seemed to irk Danmok Han-so instead.
“No, what great feat could the young miss have done that you're hiding it like this? They say Pharmacy Master took good care of her and left her some elixir or other? I'm not even asking for anything impressive...”
“Captain, that's not it at all.”
Jeong Yeong gazed at Danmok Han-so with a troubled expression. To the orphan Jeong Yeong, this man was like a father he'd met late in life. More than the distant, lofty Danmok Cheon-gi or the father he'd barely seen, Danmok Hyeon-seong, it was this man's face that had drawn him in and made him follow.
Seeing that man press him so plaintively now, Jeong Yeong found he couldn't speak.
“Why... why are you suddenly so curious about the young miss's affairs?”
“I'm not curious about her affairs—I'm curious about yours, didn't I say?”
Danmok Han-so knocked back his liquor alone. Jeong Yeong stayed silent for a long stretch before murmuring quietly.
“The young miss told me not to slack on my training... so...”
Danmok Han-so, who had been downing cup after cup, froze mid-motion. He set his cup down, stared steadily at Jeong Yeong, then clicked his tongue.
“What kind of retainer spills his master's secrets just because she's asked about them?”
Danmok Han-so's demeanor shifted abruptly, and Jeong Yeong's eyes went wide before he protested his innocence. “What? No... Captain, you kept prying. I was trying not to say anything...”
“Then you should've held out to the end!”
“Ha... but you're the captain...”
“Even if the Murim Alliance Lord himself came asking, or the heavens and earth and gods demanded answers, a master's sword doesn't speak of his lord.”
“Do a master's swords drink liquor too?”
Jeong Yeong grumbled peevishly, and Danmok Han-so burst into hearty laughter. Jeong Yeong shot him a glare and muttered on.
“And my master is the family head, anyway...”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
Jeong Yeong clamped his mouth shut. Danmok Han-so watched him with amusement, shrugged, and refilled his cup as well.
The Danmok family currently had no official family head. The retired patriarch merely watched from the shadows, his immense presence holding things together by sheer force. If Jeong Yeong had meant the retired patriarch, he would've said so explicitly. After all, wasn't he the sort who reported even to his young miss on the way out from a drinking session after work?
No family head yet, and he calls the family head his master...
Danmok Han-so snorted once and said, “So, the young miss has been teaching you all sorts of things well?”
Jeong Yeong's face stiffened.
He just scolded me for spilling my master's secrets, and now this!
Danmok Han-so chuckled like an uncle who'd successfully teased his nephew to tears and continued. “I'm saying this because she teaches me well, kid. Stick close to her and learn properly.”
“The young miss... teaches you, Captain...?”
Jeong Yeong's eyes widened in surprise, but slowly the shock and doubt faded, replaced by acceptance and understanding. Danmok Han-so was more startled by that expression. He knew he cast too large a shadow over the Yuseong Sibalsuk. There were even times he worried that the youngest, Jeong Yeong, heeded his orders more than the retired patriarch's.
Yet here was a child not even ten years old, accepting without question that she'd taught Danmok Han-so.
But the topic soon shifted to Danmok Han-so's travels. As he spoke of the sights he'd seen wandering and the fellow martial artists he'd befriended, Jeong Yeong listened with rapt, excited attention. Danmok Han-so gazed down at him like a son not yet grown and spun his tales alongside the liquor, one after another.
“I was originally planning to head all the way to Sichuan like this.”
“All the way to Sichuan Province?”
“The bean paste there has a fierce kick like no other, and they say stir-frying pork with it is out of this world...”
Geum Jeokgeol
Traits: Forward-Gazing / Volcanic Temper / Burning Competitive Spirit / Wingless Bird
Geumu Sword: 11 Stars (1▲)
Geumu Divine Art: 7 Stars
Willow Swimming Step: 10 Stars (1▲)
Aptitude & Five Elements: Mid-Mid
Worry: I prepared a reconciliation gift, but then my son goes and pulls something like this again...
Help: Just give it to him, that's all.
The next day, the Danmok household headed to the Geum estate for Geum Jongha's sparring match.
“My goodness, everything's sparkling,” Wijicheong marveled, looking around.
The Geum estate's compound was exquisitely refined. The garden layout and the trees planted there were all unfamiliar varieties. It was decorated in a style utterly unlike the Danmok estate, which clung to age-old history and tradition.
But Danmok Hyeon-yo snorted. “This is nothing. Inner Lady must enjoy such modest things so much that she doesn't realize.”
Wijicheong smiled gently. “Still, isn't the compound beautiful? The flowers and ornaments are all so novel.”
“Hm. Living purely by one's tastes makes even trifles seem wondrous, it seems.”
“But that peony decoration—isn't it like the one Outer Lady had at her wedding? Ah, though the most beautiful sight back then was Outer Lady herself, of course.”
Danmok Hyeon-yo gaped for a moment at Wijicheong's beaming words, then snapped her mouth shut. Ryeon shook her head inwardly at her aunt, who could only work her mouth silently while staring at her mother. To outsiders, Wijicheong's words might seem like veiled barbs, the way she elevated people so highly—but Ryeon knew her mother never said insincere things; she'd rather smile awkwardly in silence.
And Ryeon knew why her mother held such fondness for Danmok Hyeon-yo. Wijicheong was an orphan from Shaanxi Province who had come here solely for her marriage to Danmok Hyeon-seong. With only one sworn brother, a Huashan Sect disciple, as family, how impoverished her wedding preparations must have been. Unable to bear it, Danmok Hyeon-yo had soon lent her all the items she'd bought for her own upcoming wedding.
They couldn't be reused for another marriage, so it was “lending”—but in truth, she'd given them all away. Danmok Hyeon-yo had said she'd sooner bite her tongue off than broadcast to the neighborhood that her brother was marrying a penniless bride, but the recipient's gratitude wasn't so easily diminished.
Meanwhile, Danmok Bi tugged at Ryeon's sleeve. The opulent Geum compound held many curiosities.
“Whoaaa! Sis, did you see that? The fish at the eaves—it looked like it was swimming!”
Ryeon narrowed her eyes. Sure enough, a metal fish with shimmering scales dangled from the eaves, tinkling softly as it moved.
“Looks like a little mechanism that activates in the wind.”
The Geum family really does have money. Hanging something like that on the eaves.
Danmok Seong, who had opened her mouth to answer first, hesitated and glanced at Ryeon. “...How do you know that?”
“Uh? Oh, uh, I read about it in a book.”
“I see.”
Danmok Seong looked a bit crestfallen at failing to show off for once, so Ryeon quickly pointed to another ornament. “Oh! That one! What is that, Seong? So cool!”
“...Th-that... doesn't seem like anything special. Let's hurry—I have a spar today, so I want to focus on that.”
“Ah.”
Danmok Seong seemed not to know much about it either and changed the subject. And as she said, soon enough the Geum clansmen came swarming out from the inner compound.
“It's been a while, Geum Patriarch. Madam Song, I hope you've been well.”
“Indeed. Was your journey here safe?”
Song Yeongnang, the Geum Patriarch's wife, welcomed them effusively. The Geum Patriarch standing beside her silently cupped his hands in greeting, then narrowed his eyes and spoke quietly.
“The retired patriarch hasn't come?”
It was hard to live in Zhejiang Province without respecting Danmok Cheon-gi. Even if they'd once been half-enemies.
Wijicheong smiled softly and shook her head. “It's a gathering for the children to spar and learn, so he didn't want to intrude and make the mood tense.”
“...Hm. I see. Understood. Please, come inside.”
Geum Jeokgeol gestured grandly toward the inner compound, his expression—not so bad, contrary to Ryeon's expectations.
‘No, why's he so mellow all of a sudden?’
Even during his own spar with Ryeon and Geum Jongha, he'd had a ferocious glare like he could incinerate anyone with a look—before the misunderstanding was cleared. Now he was soft and mushy, like meat stewed too long at the pot's bottom.
He did flash a sharp glint when glancing at Danmok Han-so, standing quietly at the back of the Danmok group. As a sword estate favoring the blade, they must share some unspoken rapport among masters.