Before the rooster even crowed, in that pitch-black stretch of dawn, the Moyong Clan’s day was already beginning. Such was life in the Martial World—everyone had to rise early to prepare for morning training.
Naturally, the servants who waited on them had to start even earlier. Someone had to get simple meals ready, heat water for washing, lay out fresh clothes. A body without martial training couldn’t withstand fatigue and hunger the same way, which was why grumbling about how they’d hardly slept at all was practically part of their morning ritual.
But today was different. From the crack of dawn, whenever they found the slightest chance, they clustered together whispering, foreheads nearly touching.
“Come on, no way. Our lady did…?”
“Someone said they saw it with their own eyes!”
“But even that’s secondhand, right? She doesn’t seem like that sort of person to me.”
“That’s what I said too! But if it is true, we’re in for it. I mean, the Young Lord of the Dang Clan is staying here right now…”
Those who’d run into each other in the woodpile under pretense of fetching more firewood traded looks of disbelief and giddy interest, whispering non-stop. That same rumor hopped from person to person, house to house, spreading out like spilled ink.
Three days it rolled around like that, snowballing bigger and heavier as rumors always do. By the time it reached Dang Iheon’s ears, it wasn’t just rumor anymore—it was a neatly packaged “fact.”
Dang Ri appeared around dusk, his face drawn with thinly veiled unease, as he reported this “fact.”
“…Given the nature of the rumor, even the Dang Clan’s name is being dragged into the gossip. For now it’s only circulating inside the Moyong Clan, but it’s just a matter of time before it spreads. Once the Clan Head learns of it, he won’t stand idly by.”
Dang Iheon didn’t immediately react. He simply took a sip of tea. As he pulled off his deerskin gloves, the fingers beneath were darkened and calloused—hallmarks of the Dang Clan’s trademark poison practices.
After a long silence, he set his cup down and finally spoke.
“We’ll have to look into it further. For now, make sure this doesn’t reach the Dang Clan. Do what you can to contain it.”
“…Yes. But we likely won’t be able to hold it off for long.”
“I know. Still, there’s no need to report it to them ourselves. That goes for my sister too.”
At that, Dang Ri looked genuinely startled. Everyone knew how close Dang Choye and Dang Iheon were—siblings famed for their deep bond, sharing practically everything without secrets. To keep something like this from her?
Seeing his surprise, Dang Iheon clarified.
“My sister’s never had the luxury of close friends she could open her heart to. Lately, the Clan Head’s been hounding her about marriage so much she barely smiles anymore. But she’s been laughing a lot since spending time with Yeonhwa. That’s why she keeps delaying her return to Sichuan. I won’t burden her with needless worry over some rumor that might not even be true.”
“…That’s reasonable, but…”
“Besides, this concerns my own betrothed. I’ll handle it. Just focus on keeping mouths shut.”
Dang Iheon had spoken. Dang Ri could only bow deeply and disappear without another word.
Left alone, Dang Iheon gazed blankly at the closed window before smoothing the sleeves of his dark green robe and rising. The shadows that crossed his face then were far darker than they’d been during the earlier conversation.
Moyong Yeonhwa was his betrothed, but also a childhood friend. Even when people muttered that men and women couldn’t be true friends, Dang Iheon never wavered. He’d always regarded her simply—and protectively—as a friend.
Even when Moyong Yeonhwa fell for him outright and wore her heart so plainly on her sleeve.
But ever since she nearly drowned and lay sick for days afterward, something had changed. Sometimes it felt like she was an entirely different person. Maybe that was why…
“…It’s strange. You’re still you.”
His feelings toward her had shifted too. No one else might notice, but he, the owner of that heart, knew it well.
‘Our clan’s estate may be like a cage, but it’s still a world full of every kind of person. You learn quickly who’s worth trusting. Moyong Yeonhwa is candid, clever, and free of scheming malice. Someone like that doesn’t betray you. Meanwhile, Moyong Sohae—she may be elegant and dazzling on the surface, but inside she’s black as pitch.’
That’s what his sister, Dang Choye, had said to him after that awkward dinner soured by an uninvited guest.
‘I know you’ve only ever thought of Yeonhwa as a friend. But to me, she’d be just as fine a wife. This marriage is good for both you and the clan. Didn’t Moyong Yeonhwa once love you wholeheartedly? You’re not a child anymore—stop tormenting the one who cherishes you.’
In the past, he would’ve found that speech uncomfortable, even irritating. He might’ve flat-out told her to mind her own business.
Especially now that Yeonhwa seemed to have given up on him. Whether it was sincere or not, she wanted to break off the engagement.
Yet that night, Dang Iheon hadn’t said a word back.
His sister had just sighed deeply and rapped him on the shoulder with her fist, her serious face breaking into a fond, exasperated smile.
‘No one else knows how clueless you are. You damn fool of a little brother.’
Recalling that, Dang Iheon pictured it—Yeonhwa dressed in fine wedding silks, riding on his back to the bridal palanquin, her face hidden by a red veil, everyone cheering as he escorted her into the Dang Clan.
She would be treated with the utmost respect there. It might take time for her to adjust to Sichuan’s food and climate, but she’d have Dang Choye to keep her company, and spend evenings exploring the city with him, growing more comfortable by the day.
A big clan like theirs always wanted plenty of children—especially the Clan Head. But he didn’t want to take concubines just for that. Better to have three or four with Yeonhwa alone, raise them close and strong together…
He was so deep into that vivid daydream that he slapped his own forehead with enough force to leave a red mark. Even then, his face stayed oddly blank.
Damn his sister for putting ridiculous ideas in his head—he’d let himself drift way too far.
He gave a sharp shake of his head. The playful kids splashing in the Dang Clan’s lotus pond—children born of him and Yeonhwa—quickly scattered like startled fish.
Back to reality, he stepped out. Though he was Yeonhwa’s fiancé, he rarely left his quarters here except when necessary. He didn’t want to impose on the Moyong household.
But right now, he needed to see her.
He donned a black-green robe over his martial attire and stepped out. Moonlight caught on threads of green silk woven into the hem, making them sparkle like tiny stars.
He walked quietly to Yeonhwa’s quarters. Aside from two attendants standing watch by the door, there was no sign of commotion. Instead of marching up to ask after her, he simply leaned against a nearby tree, waiting.
The sun was almost fully set. Soon darkness would swallow everything, and him along with it.
Then it happened.
Creeeak.
A wooden door slid open. Someone stepped out, carefully scanning the area as if terrified of being caught.
It was Moyong Yeonhwa.
* * *
Even now, if I didn’t grind my body down at the end of the day, I couldn’t relax. The human body’s just like a lump of steel—it only gets tougher the more you torture and temper it. And since I didn’t exactly have the luxury of time in this life, I couldn’t even rest with a clear conscience.
Besides, sweating it out did help clear my cluttered head a bit.
“Hyah!”
With weighted pouches strapped to my ankles, I moved for a long while until sweat naturally beaded across my forehead. I hadn’t even picked up my sword yet.
Swords were great, but I needed to master my body first. Swinging a blade alone wouldn’t make me unstoppable.
Fast movements, solid stamina, precise swordsmanship.
You needed all three to truly be strong.
I clenched my fists tight and kicked high. For a second it looked like my foot was going to smack the moon clean out of the sky. Back then my legs would’ve wobbled from sheer lack of strength, but now they didn’t budge an inch.
“Nice. Feels lighter than before.”
I could probably add more weight. Seeing such clear improvement was damn satisfying.
By now the moon was way up. Fortunately, it seemed Hyangah hadn’t noticed the pillow doll still lying under my blanket back in bed. If she had, there’s no way it’d be this quiet right now.
I figured I’d swing my sword around just a bit before heading down. That’s when I felt a presence behind me.
Rustle.
It was coming from the forest. Without even bothering to look back, I spoke lazily.
“Hey, hard man to find these days. What were you doing all day—”
But the moment I turned around, the question died on my lips.
It wasn’t Sahyeon.
“…How the hell did you end up here?”
It was Dang Iheon.
“Wait, did you seriously follow me?”
“No. I just happened to see you heading out. It’s late, so I thought it might be dangerous.”
I’d snapped at him a bit sharper than I meant to, but he only looked slightly troubled.
The one small relief was that I hadn’t been practicing sword forms. If I’d unconsciously used Seol Danhae’s style instead of anything from the Moyong Clan, that could’ve raised some ugly suspicions.
At least Dang Iheon hadn’t seen anything. He just smiled and said,
“This is the first time I’ve ever seen you train so hard. I didn’t want to interrupt, but I guess I ended up spying on you—and now I’m outright bothering you. Sorry.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. I didn’t really suspect him anymore, but having this secret spot discovered during such a jittery time wasn’t exactly welcome.
More than anything, I felt a little guilty toward Sahyeon. I’d basically strong-armed him into giving up this hidden place, and now even Dang Iheon knew about it.
Still. Too late to do anything now. I’d just apologize to Sahyeon later.
“Eh, whatever. It’s not like looking wears it out. But next time, at least make some damn noise when you come.”
So I won’t end up handing you my weakness on a silver platter.
“Yeah, I will.”
“Oh, and this place is my secret training ground, so don’t tell a soul. And try not to come by if you can help it.”
“Alright.”
Only after hammering that into him a few more times did I finally feel a bit at ease. I wiped the sweat off with my sleeve and went to sit down, when Dang Iheon held out a handkerchief. It was dazzlingly white, with the Dang Clan’s crest embroidered on the corner.
Just looking at it made me feel oddly uncomfortable.
“I could’ve just wiped it on my clothes.”
“Why mess up your nice outfit when there’s a handkerchief right here? Use it.”
He carefully took my wrist and just set the handkerchief right in my palm.
A righteous scion of an orthodox clan, handing his fancy clan handkerchief to someone who used to be branded a demonic butcher—anyone would call that absolutely fucking nuts.
“Well… thanks.”
Still, if he insisted on giving it, there was no reason to turn it down.
I shoved aside the awkward feeling and wiped the sweat from my face and neck. Only then did Dang Iheon give me a small smile and sit down next to me.
“Do you usually come out this late to train?”
“Not normally. Just… felt a little off today.”
“Something bothering you?”
He asked so damn gently, like he was trying to coax it out of me. I didn’t know why this guy always had to be like this. No wonder Moyong Yeonhwa couldn’t resist him.
None of the other bastards from the Dang Clan had this kind of personality. Then again, they’d all come to kill me, so maybe that was a bit different.
“What would I have to worry about? I just wanted candy and there wasn’t any.”
I waved it off with a nonsense excuse. Dang Iheon stared at me blankly, then let out a soft laugh.
“You always loved candy, even back then. I guess some things never change.”
“What, doesn’t everyone like candy?”
“I don’t. Did you forget?”
For a second, I froze. But if I let that show, it’d look suspicious, so I just stared up at the sky and said solemnly,
“Don’t be picky. What are you, a kid?”
“…”
There was a beat of silence—then Dang Iheon burst out laughing. He doubled over, holding his forehead, his whole body shaking.
I was sure of it now. I clearly had some talent for clownery.
I let him laugh it out for a good while. Eventually it got a bit awkward, and I grew restless. Even with his laughter still trailing off, I nudged him lightly.
“Hey. Want to go a round?”
“Huh?”
That finally shut him up. He looked startled, then after a beat, asked,
“That’s… a joke too, right?”
Ugh, I could just— Why does he think everything out of my mouth is a joke? Just because I made him laugh a couple times, did he really think I was born to be his fucking jester?
I didn’t answer. Instead, I stood up and dusted off my backside. Dang Iheon stared up at me with this wide-eyed, clueless look.
I stared right back at him for a moment, then yelled,
“No words needed!”
And launched a kick straight at him.
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