A Bolt from the Blue
In the early morning, with birdsong drifting through the air, Hong Chilgong stepped out of his room, breathing in the damp scent of earth.
His steps still weaved unsteadily — the liquor had yet to fully leave him — but what of it? Long ago, some beggar surnamed Baek had created the Drunken Eight Immortals Step, and surely it had begun just like this.
He hiccupped his way a few paces farther and found Dang Gangjin already waiting for him before the door.
"I am Dang Gangjin, Young Master of the Sichuan Dang Clan. It seems only today that I am able to offer you a proper greeting."
To bow with such impeccable courtesy before a man still reeking of wine, without so much as a flicker of the eye —
Well now. How curious. How did that foul-tempered Dang bastard ever sire a son this flawless...
Hong Chilgong looked him up and down with genuine puzzlement.
"Hong Chilgong. Couldn't tell in the dark last night, but looking at you now — you've got a fine, open face."
Dang Gangjin inclined his head slightly and opened the door himself.
"You flatter me. Please, come in. I'll have the maids bring dishes good for a hangover."
"Of one thing, at least, I am certain."
Hong Chilgong seized a rather pungent chicken dish in his bare hands and tore into it with his teeth.
"Someone deliberately left traces of Qingcheng Sect martial arts at the scene. Look at this."
He wiped the grease from his hands on his clothes, then drew from his robes a split pebble and set it on the table.
"The cut face is far too clean, isn't it? I was in too much of a hurry to examine it properly at the time, but looking again — the Qingcheng techniques were only an imitation."
He offered no further explanation, yet Dang Gangjin nodded as though he had already known.
"In truth, after hearing your words, Senior, I went to the scene myself. There were sword paths that had been deliberately obscured, sword paths that were somewhat clumsy, and sword paths laid out as if meant to be seen — all jumbled together."
Even if the traces had been clumsily erased, for the young Young Master of the Dang Clan to have read every one of them — Hong Chilgong swallowed his surprise at Dang Gangjin's uncommon powers of observation.
"Quite so. Those would be the paths of the black-clad figures, the woman, and the lone black-clad man who appeared much later, respectively. Put that way, it seems we've scarcely learned a thing."
Hong Chilgong was about to drain his cup in frustration when words he had never expected spilled from Dang Gangjin's lips.
"I cannot say who those that tried to conceal their identities were — but Qingcheng is connected to this affair. Of that much I am sure."
A conviction dangerous enough to spark a major conflict if mishandled. Hong Chilgong stared at him in shock, and Dang Gangjin continued, popping a piece of meat into his mouth.
"Not long ago, there were people at that same inn who encountered other black-clad figures. Not only were their disguises slipshod — they even used Qingcheng martial arts."
Why did the food taste so bitter today?
"More precisely, they never intended to hide it. This may be their territory, but they still tried to harm a martial artist of the Dang Clan."
"...Listen here."
"Whether the black-clad figures Qingcheng sent and the ones you saw are the same people no longer matters. What matters is that they are connected to this affair in some fashion."
Looking at Dang Gangjin's composed face, Hong Chilgong realized he had been badly mistaken.
Beneath that indifferent expression lay a poison heart that never forgot a grudge. The man before him — Dang Gangjin — was his father's son through and through. The very image of Dang Hyeongeuk.
"I am not saying we will hold them to account this very moment. But Qingcheng, and those who harmed a martial artist of the Dang Clan — one day, they will all pay the price."
Dang Gangjin, who rarely touched liquor, drained his cup as naturally as breathing.
Yama's Calling Card.
The hidden weapon said to find, sooner or later, anyone who earned the Dang Clan's enmity. Hong Chilgong could only hope it would never be aimed at Qingcheng as he silently picked up what remained of the meat.
For a time, only the clink of chopsticks and the sound of chewing filled the room. Then, out of nowhere, something unexpected left Hong Chilgong's mouth.
"Come to think of it, I ran into someone I know in the inner compound — gave me quite a start. They say the Central Plains are vast but the jianghu is small. Never thought I'd feel the truth of that here."
Someone in the Dang Clan's inner compound on friendly terms with a beggar of the Beggar Association? Dang Gangjin stared at him, and Hong Chilgong grinned.
"There's a child whose betrothal I personally helped arrange. A child named Cheongwol."
Ever since the day Dang Sohye had dragged her away, Seomun Hwi had scarcely managed a glimpse of Cheongwol's face.
"Young Lady Cheongwol left her room first thing this morning."
Ak Seo-a answered, leaning against the doorframe with a face that still looked half-asleep.
"Did she say where she was—"
He asked on the off chance, but the answer came back the same as always.
"I know not."
It was an obvious lie, yet he could hardly seize her by the shoulders and shake the truth of Cheongwol's whereabouts out of her. Seomun Hwi let out a short sigh and looked past her at Cheongwol's empty bed.
"When Cheongwol returns — could you tell her I've been looking for her?"
There was something almost plaintive in the request. Ak Seo-a nodded reluctantly.
"I shall. Provided she returns before this humble one falls asleep."
"...My thanks."
Watching Seomun Hwi trudge away with his shoulders slumped, Ak Seo-a clicked her tongue inwardly.
If they would simply admit they were in love with each other, everything would be so much easier. It was denying it that left them in this sorry state.
Not that she could entirely blame him — Cheongwol was every bit as stubbornly dense.
...She keeps saying that feeling romantic affection for Hwi is impossible from the start.
As if she couldn't see the longing dripping from her own eyes. Ak Seo-a had found Dang Gangjin's denseness exasperating more times than she could count, even though she herself was the one in love with him. And now there were two more just like him in her circle — and they were pining for each other, no less.
If this is fate, then fate it must be.
Ak Seo-a carefully shut the door and crossed to her own bed.
"..."
On the bed, the very person Seomun Hwi so desperately longed to see was sleeping soundly, breathing soft and even.
Cheongwol had solved a problem that had plagued her for so long — Ak Seo-a wanted to help her somehow in return. She brushed the back of her hand gently across that lovely cheek, her expression full of quiet pity.
If they keep holding it in like this, it'll make them ill. And neither of them has the slightest instinct for this sort of thing...
Three full days without a glimpse of Cheongwol's face, and a sigh rose from deep in his chest.
"Hah..."
They were in the same place — so why did she feel so impossibly far away?
For more than two years he had never received a single reply, yet he had always been certain that someday he would see Cheongwol again. And now here he was, waking each morning afraid she might have slipped away from the Dang Clan in the night.
...I'm not right in the head either.
Seomun Hwi let out a self-mocking laugh. He could not understand himself — inventing any excuse, claiming concern for a friend, just to find some reason to be near her. If he truly regarded Cheongwol as an ordinary friend, a few days apart should not have troubled him at all.
Yet the image of Cheongwol smiling so prettily in the clothes Merchant Lord Mo Wonpyeong had gifted her kept rising unbidden, until his head ached with it.
Cheongwol was already enduring enough torment — a man's mind trapped in a woman's body. And instead of offering help as a friend, he was harboring these base desires?
He was pressing a hand down his face, trying to steady his heart, when Dang Sohye's voice carried from not far off. She was laughing as she spoke with the people beside her — Dang Gangjin walking on her left, and on her right a man whose appearance marked him as one of the Beggar Association.
What on earth were they talking about, to put such a bright look on her face? The question had barely formed when Dang Sohye spotted Seomun Hwi and came toward him.
"Young Master Seomun. I was just on my way to see you. Ah — this is an elder of the Beggar Association."
At her introduction, Seomun Hwi quickly brought his hands together in a formal bow.
"I am Seomun Hwi, Young Master of the Seomun Clan. I pay my respects to the senior of the Beggar Association."
"...Law Beggar of the Beggar Association. Hong Chilgong."
The smile that had been on Hong Chilgong's face only moments before stiffened into something subtle and strained.
So this is the one. The bastard putting that child through such heartache.
The first time he had heard the name Seomun Hwi from Cheongwol, even Hong Chilgong had been more than a little thrown. A man who already had a betrothed — and of all people, the Young Master of the Seomun Clan, whose marriage talks with a daughter of the Dang Clan were already underway. What's more, how had Cheongwol, born of Qinghai, ever crossed paths with a man from Anhui?
Handled poorly, this could make a mockery not only of Cheongwol but of the Seomun Clan and the Dang Clan both. But a beggar of the Beggar Association could not speak out of both sides of his mouth.
...Perhaps it's not such a bad thing to settle hearts cleanly while the chance is here.
Hong Chilgong thought of Cheongwol and swallowed a bitter aftertaste. Her beauty was extraordinary enough that even he, who had wandered the entire Central Plains, had never seen its like — but with a matter between great clans already in motion, there was no room left for pure affection.
To think that the betrothal he had proposed to bring the two together would instead become the means of ending things between them for good.
Hong Chilgong frowned with guilt, and Seomun Hwi, understanding none of it, swallowed dryly. In that moment, Dang Gangjin — who had been watching in silence — set a hand on Seomun Hwi's shoulder.
"Young Master Seomun. It seems I owe you an apology for a misunderstanding I held some time ago."
"...?"
Seomun Hwi looked at him blankly. A faint smile touched Dang Gangjin's lips.
"It's rather embarrassing to say it now, but I was absolutely certain you were in love with Cheongwol. You might have mentioned that the child already has a betrothed. Had you done so, I never would have entertained such an absurd misunderstanding."