Attachment
At first, it was enough simply to see his sister's smiling face one more time.
That faint smile she always wore at the corners of her mouth, no matter what he said.
When she was happy, he was happy. When she was sad, he was sad.
And on the days she writhed in agony, he swung his spear until every callus on his palms split open.
Because those lifeless eyes, those parched lips, those small hands so thin they were nothing but bone — they kept rising unbidden in his mind until he thought he would go mad.
His sister was crying.
Collapsed on the floor, clutching her cheek, her face twisted with sheer terror.
The one who had made her cry was none other than himself.
The sting still lingered vividly across his palm.
She must have been just as shaken as that pain suggested.
He could not understand how things had come to this.
Should he drop to his knees even now and beg, claiming he had momentarily lost his mind?
His kind sister would surely forgive him — but that did not mean she would ever yield her convictions.
And if he left a girl like her alone in a Central Plains where the Orthodox factions were fracturing and chaos was deepening by the day, he did not need to see the outcome to know what would become of her.
So he swallowed the words he should have spoken and forced out cruel ones instead, as though coughing up blood.
Had the dream he crushed hurt her more than the blow from her own younger brother?
Leaving his sister face-down and weeping on the floor, he turned his back and walked away.
Of all the dreams he could have had, why did it have to be that one?
Probably because the karma he had piled up was far from small.
Thinking as much, he cracked open his eyes — and there was his sister, asleep beside him, slumped over in exhaustion.
It was the first peaceful face he had seen on her since the day he began treating her so harshly.
Ak Ji-ho lifted a hand to touch her hair, only to let out a groan as a stabbing pain lanced through his side.
The memory of being beaten without rest toward the end of the duel rose up, and a dry chuckle escaped him before he could stop it.
Those who harm others shall be harmed in kind.
Truly, the words of the ancient sages held not a single flaw. He was about to close his eyes again when his gaze met his sister's — she had not been asleep after all, and was watching him.
"..."
There was nothing left he could say at this point.
As Ak Ji-ho simply stared in silence, it was Ak Seo-a who spoke first.
"...Are you all right?"
Was this foolish sister of his not even capable of resenting the brother who had tormented her so?
"...It hurts. Like I'm going to die."
Yet contrary to his thoughts, what slipped from his mouth was a petulant complaint he could scarcely believe was his own.
The instant she heard it, Ak Seo-a pressed hard on a bruise so dark it had gone nearly black.
"Ugh...!"
As a groan tore from him at the pain racing up his spine, a soft snicker leaked from beside him.
"Hurts like you're dying, right? They said your bones are broken, so you'll be stuck like this for a good two weeks."
"...How long have I been lying here?"
"Three days."
For the Young Master of the Shandong Ak Clan to not only lose a duel, but remain unconscious for three full days...
Before the crushing sense of defeat could even settle over him, the terms of that duel rose with perfect clarity in his mind.
If I win, you will offer a sincere apology for everything you have done to Seo-a.
He had thought no woman could be stranger than his sister — yet Cheong-wol was every bit her equal.
Was there anyone else in the jianghu who would so readily step into a duel for the sake of a friendship barely a month old?
He had never once imagined he might lose. But a promise, once made, could not be broken.
"I have something to say..."
The moment he steeled himself and opened his mouth, Ak Seo-a abruptly poked his cheek.
"...?"
He looked at her, wondering what that was supposed to mean, but she was only smiling faintly.
The very same smile she had always shown him when they were children.
"You told Cheong-wol you'd never change your mind, didn't you?"
"...I did."
"You already know this, but the same goes for me."
Ak Seo-a's hand closed tightly around Ak Ji-ho's bandaged one.
The warmth that passed through her fingertips felt more resolute than any words.
"Even when it hurt so much I thought I'd die — even when I wanted to give up — I kept picturing it. The dream of standing at your side as a magnificent hero of justice."
The moment her eyes met his as she leaned in close, guilt clenched around his heart like a fist.
"So I..."
Just as his sister had done to him, this time it was Ak Ji-ho who cut her off.
"Do as you please."
"...What?"
Even when she asked again with startled eyes, the answer did not change.
"Do whatever you want."
"..."
Ak Ji-ho's voice carried a long-accumulated resignation, mixed with a strange, unnameable relief.
"That duel taught me. No matter what I do, there are things in this world that simply will not go my way."
Forcing his screaming muscles to move, he reached out and gently cupped his sister's head.
"...But wherever you go and whatever you do, you'd best remember this."
"...Remember what?"
"If anything happens to you."
The low words seeped quietly into Ak Seo-a's ear.
"You...! What kind of ridiculous thing is that to say?!"
Ak Seo-a shot upright with a look of pure dismay, but Ak Ji-ho only wore a faint smile on a face that had grown considerably more at ease.
"I should have done this a long time ago."
Why did the laughter drifting from inside the room sink her spirits so?
Cheong-wol, who had come looking for Ak Seo-a, turned away with a rigid face, unable to open the door.
How could she forgive so easily someone who had made her life a living hell for three or four years?
Or had there never been any hatred there to begin with?
Carrying that bitter feeling as she descended the stairs toward her own room, Cheong-wol found her eyes meeting Jeong-hwa's, who was looking straight at her from below.
Startled by the unexpected encounter, she moved to offer a proper greeting — but Jeong-hwa waved a hand first.
"No need. More importantly, did you not come to see your friend? Why are you coming back down empty-handed?"
Having entertained thoughts too shameful to voice before others, Cheong-wol hesitated, fidgeting over her answer.
"Let me guess. The Young Master has regained consciousness, has he not?"
Was mind-reading martial arts simply a matter of course for someone of the Emei Sect Leader's caliber?
As Cheong-wol flinched and took a step back, a mischievous smile spread across Jeong-hwa's lips.
"Be careful. Before the Buddha, there is nothing that can be hidden."
Even as she doubted it, Cheong-wol swallowed dryly.
"...Then being careful wouldn't help me hide anything either, would it?"
Caught utterly off guard, Jeong-hwa burst into hearty laughter.
"Well now — you take things so seriously I find myself with nothing left to say."
Then she gestured toward the stairs with a tilt of her chin.
"Come along. I can at least listen to whatever is troubling you."
Whether it was because she was a practitioner steeped in Buddhist teachings, or simply Jeong-hwa's naturally gentle disposition — Cheong-wol found her heart growing calmer the longer they spoke, until even the answer she had been holding back slipped out on its own.
"...So that's why I just came back down."
Once she said it aloud, the reason felt more trivial than expected, and the tips of her ears warmed slightly.
"I suppose I'm just petty, aren't I?"
She scratched her cheek awkwardly as she asked, and Jeong-hwa shook her head.
"Hardly. As a friend of the Ak Clan's daughter, it is only natural you would feel that way."
The brief relief that her thoughts were not strange lasted only a moment before Cheong-wol pressed on.
"...Then why did she forgive him so easily?"
Jeong-hwa seemed to ponder for a moment, then turned the question back on her.
"If you were in your friend's position, what would you have done?"
"Me?"
"Yes. Think of someone precious to you, and consider it."
Her late grandfather's dearly missed face rose before Cheong-wol's eyes.
"...I probably would have gotten angry. I would have, but..."
"You would have forgiven him before long. Am I wrong?"
Unable to deny it, Cheong-wol gave a small nod.
"You're right. How did you know?"
"Think carefully. Why you could never bring yourself to harden your heart completely."
Cheong-wol let out a thin sigh and lowered her head slightly.
"Because the angrier I got, the sadder he looked. And that... hurt so much I couldn't stay angry."
"Precisely that reason."
Jeong-hwa raised a hand and gently patted Cheong-wol's back.
"It feels unfair, does it not? Someone who never cherished you — who beat you and oppressed you — ends up receiving forgiveness so easily."
"...Yes."
"But what can one do? The harsher you treat them, the more it wounds only yourself. That is what it means to hold someone dear. It is the most unfair thing in all the world. And that is why we call it attachment."
Attachment.
Cheong-wol lifted the corners of her mouth in a small smile, her heart already lighter than moments before.
"I was never going to understand it in the first place. I'm not Seo-a, after all."
"Indeed. Though I will say — those Ak Clan twins do seem rather extraordinary in their bond, do they not?"
At Jeong-hwa's joke, Cheong-wol grinned as though she had been waiting for it.
"Listening to them talk, you'd think they're the only ones in the world with a tragic backstory. All that performing of their misery — it's absurd. They don't even know what a real tragedy looks like."
The two of them laughed until their backs shook and they could barely breathe.
It had been a self-deprecating joke, but laughing left her feeling wonderfully unburdened.
"Ah — there is one thing I would like to ask, if you do not mind?"
After catching her breath for a moment, Jeong-hwa looked Cheong-wol straight in the eye.
"Of course. Please go ahead."
"Do you, by any chance... have some connection to the Tang Clan?"
"The Tang Clan...?"
Her mother's keepsake nestled against her chest came to mind, but there was no direct connection, so Cheong-wol shook her head.
"No. I'm from Qinghai Province."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. Why do you ask?"
Jeong-hwa tilted her head with a faintly uncertain look.
"Looking at you simply reminded me of someone who was once with the Tang Clan. Since you say it is not so, pay it no mind."