Even after Moyong Yeonhwa regained consciousness, the tension hanging over the Moyong Clan hadn’t eased one bit.
There were two reasons for that. First, the external one: everyone from the visiting clans had seen Moyong Yeonhwa’s poisoning with their own eyes.
In a world like the Martial World, where only the strong are respected, if they didn’t find and punish the culprit harshly, the Moyong Clan would be seen as weak. And weakness wasn’t tolerated.
The second reason? Moyong Muhyeok’s sheer, unrelenting rage. Of course, the rest of the family—and the entire Moyong Clan, really—were furious too. They all cherished Yeonhwa. But the guilt and fury brewing in Moyong Muhyeok, who had received her concern right before it all happened, was in a league of its own.
Normally, when something this serious happened, the Elders would be raising hell by now. But this time? Not a single protest. Not even from Elder Pae.
“…That conniving bitch.”
Moyong Sohae clenched her fists hard.
Terminal lucidity. Sometimes people will rally right before their deaths. She figured Moyong Yeonhwa waking up was nothing more than a candle burning bright just before it goes out.
Or rather, she hoped that was the case.
But it had already been three days since Moyong Yeonhwa had opened her eyes.
“…Even so, she seems to be in serious despair after losing her martial arts. She won’t see any physicians. Even the Clan Head and his wife came by and had to leave without seeing her.”
Her servant tried to soothe her mood, tiptoeing around her like a kicked dog. Normally, Sohae would’ve snapped at her for talking out of turn, but right now, even she was desperate. The comment helped a little.
If Yeonhwa wasn’t even seeing her parents, then yeah. She must be seriously messed up. Which meant Sohae’s plan hadn’t completely failed, right?
Pushing down her jittery nerves, Sohae slowly rose to her feet.
“I should go.”
“Wh-what? Where—”
“My sister’s awake, so of course this little sister should visit her.”
The servant paled and scrambled to stop her.
“B-but… even the Clan Head was turned away…”
“Well, they can at least tell her I came to see her, right?”
If Yeonhwa was too shocked to even look at her, all the better. Either way, paying a visit wouldn’t hurt. At the very least, it would look less suspicious to outsiders.
“Bring me something white. Something plain, with as few patterns as possible.”
Wearing that would obviously make her look like she was in mourning, but the servant just nodded, too afraid to object.
* * *
Hyangah had been a bundle of nerves for days now.
Her lady’s door had stayed shut for more than a full day. She wouldn’t let anyone in, wouldn’t see a soul.
No one understood how serious Yeonhwa was about martial arts more than Hyangah. Even when she’d tried to stop her, Yeonhwa had trained relentlessly, day and night, pushing herself like a woman possessed.
“…It’s my fault.”
She’d been muttering that nonstop for days.
On the night of the banquet, Hyangah had briefly stepped away after a message from the head cook saying they needed an extra pair of hands urgently. But when she got to the kitchen, the head cook looked confused—said he never sent for her.
In hindsight, it was suspicious as hell. There were already so many servants, and it was the tail end of the banquet—why would the kitchen suddenly need her?
Feeling uneasy, she’d rushed back to the pavilion… only to find Yeonhwa collapsed, blood streaming from her nose, eyes, and mouth.
Just thinking about it made Hyangah dizzy and her hands start trembling all over again.
She’d begged the gods for her lady to live. She’d even regretted not becoming a Buddhist earlier so she could’ve prayed more properly. Pointless regrets piled up fast.
“Do you remember which servant called you that night?”
When Moyong Muhyeok asked her that, she had racked her brain desperately. But nothing came to mind. Her memory was usually sharp, but that one moment stayed maddeningly blank.
“Please… please kill me. It’s all my fault…”
“No. Just focus on taking good care of Ahwa. If anything comes back to you, tell us immediately.”
No one blamed her outright. But that didn’t stop the guilt from eating her alive. If Moyong Yeonhwa refused food and stayed holed up for even one more night, Hyangah had resolved to go in—punishment be damned.
She bit back her tears.
The one who truly deserved to cry was Moyong Yeonhwa, not her. So Hyangah steeled herself and kept going. She prepared her lady’s favorite dishes and swept the room clean.
Then a visitor showed up.
“…Lady Sohae wishes to visit Lady Yeonhwa.”
Moyong Sohae. Wearing something that was practically funeral garb.
Hyangah, already on edge, now bristled like a blade drawn to the hilt. She ignored the servant trying to butter her up and spoke directly to Sohae.
“My lady isn’t seeing anyone at this time.”
“Still, could you let her know I’m here? This little sister has been losing sleep out of worry and just wants to see her face.”
Her tone was gentle, but the calm was too practiced. Hyangah knew better. She knew what kind of snake this woman really was. Her teeth ground together.
Maybe this venomous bitch was the one who tried to kill Yeonhwa.
“Don’t get your hopes up.”
She turned coldly and walked up to the door. When she glanced back, Sohae and her servant were still standing there, waiting without a care in the world.
Hyangah knocked gently.
“My lady. It’s Hyangah. Lady Sohae has come to visit.”
As expected, no answer.
Right. If she turned away even the Clan Head, there’s no way she’d meet that woman. Hyangah raised her voice slightly.
“I suppose you’re not interested. I’ll let her know to try again another time!”
Just as she turned to leave, Moyong Yeonhwa’s voice came from inside.
“…Tell her to meet me in the back garden. And bring some tea.”
“…Sorry?”
Hyangah’s eyes widened. Wait, what? She rejected everyone, but she was accepting Moyong Sohae?
Even Young Lord Dang, her fiancé, had come by that morning and been turned away!
“B-but, it’s Lady Sohae…”
“I’m not deaf. Tell her to wait in the back garden.”
“…Understood.”
Hyangah reluctantly turned back. Sohae was staring at her, unreadable.
“I’ll escort you to the garden.”
She said it bluntly and walked off.
* * *
Moyong Sohae had to wait nearly a full incense stick’s time before Yeonhwa finally appeared. As she stood, Sohae wiped her damp palms against her skirt and forced a worried frown onto her face.
“Sister! Are you feeling alright? Oh no, you look so pale…”
“Eh, I’m getting by. Still, thanks for coming all the way to see me.”
“How could I not? I should’ve come sooner—I was just too worried and didn’t want to intrude…”
They’d clashed openly before, but here Sohae was, back in her sweet-little-sister disguise. Yeonhwa looked exhausted, barely managing to pour tea and hand it over.
“Still, I’m glad I get to see my little sister’s face while I’m still alive.”
Yeonhwa’s complexion was a bit pale, but her skin was still smooth and unblemished. Sohae had been expecting her to look sallow, maybe even sickly. She was honestly disappointed.
She’d hoped she’d died. And now here she was, not just alive—but fine.
“The heavens really were on your side. I heard you suffered some lasting damage, but I’m sure you’ll overcome it. I believe in you, sister.”
“……”
“And really, who needs martial arts? You’ve got plenty of warriors in the clan who can protect you.”
Yeonhwa held her teacup in both hands, then gave a small, humorless laugh.
“You’re right. Besides, I’m going to marry Iheon anyway, so maybe I don’t need martial arts anymore. I’ve even been thinking of moving the wedding up.”
Then her face went blank, and she stared Sohae straight in the eyes. A clear test.
Sohae flinched and looked away.
She didn’t see Yeonhwa’s crooked little smirk that followed.
“You’re so worried about me, I’d love to eat with you—but my body’s not doing well, so I’ve got no appetite.”
“Just having tea with you like this is more than enough, sister.”
Yeonhwa’s voice was flat as she asked,
“Really?”
“Pardon?”
“I asked if you’re really happy about that.”
Sohae’s face darkened for a second. Did she figure something out?
But no—she’d cleaned up all the evidence. Even had that middleman who sold her the poison eliminated.
It must’ve just been a bluff.
Sohae regained her poise and smiled gently.
“Why would you say that? We may have quarreled before, but I truly care about you, sister. I wouldn’t lie about that.”
“…I see. Going through something like this just makes me a little on edge.”
“Of course. Who wouldn’t feel that way? But don’t worry too much. The Young Master swore he’d catch the culprit soon. I’m sure they’ll be caught any day now.”
“…Right. Of course.”
“I truly hope that vicious criminal is brought to justice.”
“Thank you.”
Sohae watched Yeonhwa’s face carefully. That piercing gaze from earlier had vanished. Now she looked weak and worn out again.
So she’d only been fishing for a reaction. Nothing more.
Sohae snorted inwardly. Sitting across from the culprit and sipping tea—how pathetic.
She didn’t manage to kill her, but watching her sit there, drained and powerless, was still satisfying.
She kept sneaking glances at Yeonhwa’s face. There would be another chance eventually. And next time, she wouldn’t fail.
“Oh, right.”
“Yes?”
“How’s the tea? I asked them to bring out the best since you were coming.”
To be asking about the tea at a time like this. Sohae barely kept her laugh in check.
“It’s quite fragrant. Lovely, really.”
“Is it?”
Yeonhwa’s eyes widened, like she was surprised.
“Huh… that’s unexpected. I didn’t take you for the type.”
“…Sister? What do you mean by that?”
“I mean I didn’t know you were this naive.”
Yeonhwa set down her teacup.
Sohae glanced at it—and her heart dropped.
Yeonhwa hadn’t drunk a single sip. The tea was untouched.
“…Sister?”
Yeonhwa smiled, calm and quiet.
“I prepared a very special tea. I just couldn’t stand not returning the favor.”
Clink.
Sohae’s teacup hit the garden floor and shattered. Tea splashed around her feet.
Her hands flew to her throat. But it was too late. She’d already swallowed several sips.
“No… no way…”
“Oh, yes. Exactly what you think.”
Sohae shot to her feet like her chair was on fire. Her vision went white. Cold sweat poured down her back.
Once the poison hit the stomach and spread through the body, it would be nothing but agony until death.
Terror seized her like a vice.
She shoved her fingers into her mouth, trying to gag and vomit it out. Her hands trembled. Her panic made it worse.
“Ugh… guh—!”
“Oh my. Are you feeling unwell?”
“—Kuh… guhak!”
Yeonhwa’s voice rang out, but Sohae couldn’t even hear her.
She gagged and retched until finally her thin body heaved violently. She dropped to her knees and threw up everything she’d had. Her pristine white robe was ruined.
Her once-pretty face was a mess of snot, tears, sweat, and vomit.
And when she finally looked up in her disgrace—
There were shoes.
She raised her gaze slowly…
Dang Iheon was standing there.
“…Y-Young Lord…”
Moyong Sohae’s face went pale as a corpse.
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