Formless Poison
The moon had sunk considerably, yet the sky remained dark as ink spilled across the dawn.
Seomun Hwi stepped forward and took his place at the center of the training grounds.
A cool energy, thin as mist, drifted about him, and the dew clinging to every blade of grass trembled as if a single breath of wind might send it falling.
"Huu..."
He closed his eyes and slowly drew in a breath. As the dawn air seeped deep into his lungs, the torment seemed to scatter, if only a little.
Yet no matter how hard he tried to empty his mind, Cheongwol's face — weeping so pitifully — rose before him again and again.
What could possibly be so important that she would leave him behind even while suffering so?
It had seemed so close, right before his eyes, yet like moonlight, no matter how far he reached, he could never grasp it.
His head was full of tangled thoughts, but at times like these, what he must do was clear.
Regardless of what others might do, when he was in pain, he swung his sword until he collapsed from exhaustion.
"Huu..."
Seomun Hwi slowly exhaled, drew his sword, and aimed it at his afflictions.
As the qi flowing along his blood vessels reached the eight extraordinary meridians, the inner energy accumulated in his dantian stirred.
The precarious dew hanging from the grass blades finally fell to the ground.
Shwik!
Thumb — Shaoshang Sword.
His blade shot forth like lightning, tearing a single point in the empty air.
Index finger — Shangyang Sword.
Lowering his shoulder and locking his elbow firm, he raised the sword line with only his wrist and split it apart.
If the Shaoshang Sword was contraction, the Shangyang Sword was expansion.
As the cunning sword line straightened, his momentum surged ahead and his body followed behind.
Next, middle finger — Zhongchong Sword.
Similar in principle to the Shaoshang Sword, yet it overwhelmed not through contraction but through penetration.
Pushing the sword tip with only the energy at his fingertips, a tearing sound rang through the empty air.
As the forms riding the three meridians of his hand flowed like water, Seomun Hwi did not pause — he drew power into his ring finger.
The fourth meridian burned hot, yet if he withdrew his energy here, he would only suffer internal injury.
He took a short breath in and struck down with the tip of his sword on the exhale.
Gathering energy into a single point to make the enemy shrink back, then immediately expanding to leave an unexpected wound.
After piercing through again and again as if crushing, and with the barest of movements bringing the principle of the middle to life, just as he was about to sever his opponent's life—
A pain as if every joint of his fingers were being torn apart seized him, and he lost his grip on the sword.
"...!"
Had his impatience driven him to force a glimpse of the next realm?
Clutching his throbbing wrist, Seomun Hwi sank down onto the training ground floor.
He had always been more confident than anyone in swinging a sword for long stretches.
A self-mocking smile spread across Seomun Hwi's lips.
Clearly, he had not been like this when he first formed his bond with Cheongwol.
An appearance so delicate it was hard to believe he was a man, a past that sounded heartbreaking even at a glance. And above all, as his first true friend, he had paid more attention than necessary — that much was true.
But he had never given so much of himself as to become this utterly useless fool.
He recalled Cheongwol's face, emerging from the blankets, looking at him with a shy smile.
Looking back, he wondered if even then, without his knowing, his heart had already begun to leak out little by little. And as it accumulated, friendship had at some point turned into romantic love.
How could he feel this way toward a friend who had been a man?
Some would point fingers and heap scorn upon him; others would shake their heads, certain he had lost his mind.
But even a woman who had inspired the legend of a beauty who topples nations would surely hide herself in a corner, ashamed, before Cheongwol.
When someone who had already been special became such a woman — and looked only at him — how was he supposed to endure it?
With a complicated heart, he lifted his gaze to the sky.
Before he knew it, dawn had risen over the dark night sky, and the starlight exhaled its final breath. Then light slowly pushed in from the eastern ridgeline, and before long the whole world brightened.
Someday, if his darkened heart could brighten like this as well, how wonderful that would be.
As he sat blankly watching the rising sun, a now-familiar voice approached from beside him.
"Sitting here all alone putting on every pitiful act in the book, I see. Don't worry. Anyone can tell you look like a man who's been dumped."
Her face was not clearly visible with the sunlight at her back, but from the sarcastic tone alone, he could easily guess who it was.
The precious jewel of the Sichuan Dang Clan.
Dang Sohye was looking down at him.
Though the dawn dew might still be soaking the ground damp, Dang Sohye seemed not to care as she came over and sat beside him.
Only then did Seomun Hwi begin recalling, one by one, the things he had done yesterday.
Not only had he failed to control his temper in front of her — he had left her alone all day without seeking her out.
"...Even with ten mouths, I would have nothing to say."
As Seomun Hwi hung his head low, Dang Sohye leaned her face in close.
"As you should. In front of your fiancée, you went and froze up the moment you heard about your old love's engagement."
"..."
"It was unexpected, though. I was certain Young Lady Cheongwol still had feelings for you."
When Seomun Hwi looked at her, Dang Sohye shrugged.
"Don't ask me how I knew. Just looking at her eyes was enough to think so. Even my older brother said as much, didn't he?"
He recalled Cheongwol's face calling his name with eyes full of affection.
She had smiled like that — and yet held another man in her heart?
Dang Sohye's gaze brushed lightly over Seomun Hwi.
What a foolish man.
Even she, who had watched from a step back, found something lacking about the whole situation.
She thoroughly disliked the sight of him alone, suffering, blinded by love.
Cheongwol — what reason did that woman have for tormenting such an innocent man?
Partly as payment for the rudeness Seomun Hwi had committed yesterday, she quietly rested her head against his shoulder.
"What was it about Young Lady Cheongwol that you liked so much?"
At the rather abrupt question, Seomun Hwi's body flinched.
"Her face, after all? Or maybe..."
Dang Sohye's gaze slowly traveled downward, past her own neck.
"Here?"
Ordinarily it would have been a crude joke he could brush off without a second thought, but this time he could not.
Because the image of Cheongwol in clothes that left her chest area clearly exposed had risen unbidden in his mind.
"I was only joking, but it seems Young Master has a man's side after all. Ah, I'm not blaming you."
When Seomun Hwi struggled to answer, unable to hide his fluster, Dang Sohye lifted one corner of her mouth slightly.
"It's not like that."
He hurried to make excuses, but it was already far too late.
"So you mean you don't like it? It's fine. For a man, it's natural. I'm actually relieved. Now I know Young Master is no different from ordinary men."
Just as Dang Sohye seized the opportunity and tried to press closer against him—
Seomun Hwi opened his mouth with an expression she had never seen before.
"...I simply liked Cheongwol's smiling face."
A single sentence carrying deeper sincerity than any words she had ever spoken to him.
She had not particularly intended to snatch him away, but now that the one who had claimed him first was gone, she had thought to try taking him into her hands just once.
Whatever Cheongwol might feel, at least he was still stuck in the mire, unable to climb free.
Should she force him out of it?
Or pretend not to notice and leave him be?
In truth, the answer was simple.
Whatever she did, if his heart was not in it, everything was useless.
After a brief deliberation, a low voice slipped from Dang Sohye's lips.
"...Young Master, you've been poisoned too."
A very long time ago, she had heard that even in the Dang Clan, there had been someone like Seomun Hwi.
A man who, despite being a rising star of the orthodox sects, had lost his heart to a daughter of the Guangdong Jin Clan — who used the same poisons and hidden weapons.
The woman herself had held another in her heart, yet in the end, after laying everything down, he had won her love. How she had admired that story when she heard it.
Even if he never set foot on Sichuan soil again, Dang Sohye was certain he had not regretted it until the moment he closed his eyes.
Poisoned by that vicious formless toxin called love, he would have died slowly, happily, for the rest of his life.
"Unfortunately, there's no real antidote. It's a terrifying extreme poison, you see."
When Seomun Hwi, unable to grasp her meaning, merely blinked, Dang Sohye let out a hollow laugh.
"So dense. I can already see clearly how much Young Lady Cheongwol is going to suffer from now on."
"...That won't happen anymore. Cheongwol is..."
Just as his expression began to darken again, her hand pinched his forearm sharply.
As his brow furrowed at the sudden pain, Dang Sohye snorted a laugh and continued.
"You were the one who formed a bond with Young Lady Cheongwol first, weren't you? Are you going to hand her over to some man whose face you don't even know? Think about it once. Young Lady Cheongwol in that bastard's arms."
He bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut.
Even just imagining it, a heat he himself could not contain seemed to surge up in his chest.
"You don't need to feel sorry for me for no reason. The men I've driven off alone could fill Sichuan and still have room left over. One more just gets added to the pile. So do as your heart desires."
"...Lady Dang."
When he opened his eyes again and looked at her, Dang Sohye wore an awkward expression.
"If you get rejected one more time, come back. I hate being someone's substitute, but for someone of Young Master's caliber, I can more or less accept it."
Perhaps because she had said something so uncharacteristic, her face flushed slightly red. She tried to hide her expression, but the dense man inevitably interrupted her once again.
"Euk...!"
When a firm hand suddenly wrapped around her delicate one, Dang Sohye's heart began racing of its own accord — perhaps because her emotions were slightly heightened.
Seomun Hwi seemed to have steeled some resolve of his own; no dark expression remained anywhere on his face.
"As Lady Dang says, I will not harbor any feelings of guilt. However..."
His gaze gathered clearly and turned toward Dang Sohye.
"The chance you have given me — I will never waste it."