Chapter 71

I opened my eyes.

The moment I did, I pushed my torso up. Crack! My bones popped loudly as I stretched.

"Ow."

Refreshed. My body felt unusually light. Maybe it was a good night in a comfortable bed? It felt like the stiffness from the whole trip had finally unwound.

"...I finally feel human again."

Even my funereal face seemed to have smoothed out.

With a tired body restored, everything felt fine.

I was in a good mood. The rare lightness, the warmth of getting up from a soft bed—nice.

Today felt like a decent start.

Thinking that, I got up and slid the door open.

Rattle.

"Oh my, good mor—"

Rattle—thunk.

"..."

I opened it, saw something I shouldn’t, and shut it again.

Weird.

"Am I still half-asleep?"

Seemed like it. I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand and opened the door again.

Rattle.

"Why are you clos—"

Ah. So I hadn’t seen wrong. I tried to slam it shut—

Rrrrr—thud!

"Excuse me?"

This time it didn’t close. A hand blocked the door.

Screee—

I tried anyway, but it didn’t budge.

I’d noticed yesterday too—this woman’s strength was no joke.

"Young Master. Good morning. Right?"

Tang Yeran beamed at me.

Her hand, meanwhile, didn’t ease up.

"...Yes. Up until a moment ago, it was a good morning."

Now, not so much.

"Oh my, did you have a bad dream?"

"I think so."

I might still be dreaming, honestly.

Anyway.

"...So, what is it?"

What brought you here? I put more strength into the door as I asked.

It still didn’t move.

"Come on. What do you mean, what?"

She flashed that robust, healthy smile of hers.

"I told you yesterday."

"..."

"Let’s get married."

A throb of headache pulsed.

"That wasn’t a joke?"

"Oh? I don’t make jokes."

Worse if it wasn’t.

What was she aiming at with that ridiculous line? Same as yesterday—absurd.

"...I already answered that."

Her eyes went a shade wider.

"Oh, you said no?"

"Yes."

I’d already answered.

I’d stuttered because I heard what I didn’t expect, but luckily the answer hadn’t changed.

I refused.

And Tang Yeran answered,

"Why?"

As if she, who’d hit me with a senseless proposal, couldn’t possibly understand my refusal—she asked again.

Just like now.

"Why?"

Now I was the one thrown. Why?

"...Do you like me?"

I asked just in case, and she flicked her hand lightly.

"Come on. As if."

Very bold answer.

What the...? What is this?

"Then why are you doing this?"

"Young Master. People don’t only marry for love. Especially people like me."

"..."

Coldest truth. And true.

Among the names that matter in today’s Central Plains, that’s how it goes, ten times out of ten.

But—

"Look at my parents for a start, right?"

"...Excuse me?"

Why bring up the Poison King out of nowhere?

A cold prickle ran up my spine.

"Look at my mother. She’s [N O V E L I G H T] still stuck on your father, Young Master Bang, but she married my fath—"

"That’s enough."

I let go of the door and clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Mmph..."

What on earth are you saying?

Terrifying talk.

I hurried to cover her in case someone heard.

Lick.

A wet, disgusting sensation touched my palm and I flinched away.

"You’ve got to be kidding me...!"

I stared at my palm in revulsion.

A faint sheen of moisture remained.

Obviously not water.

"Your hand’s saltier than I expected, Young Master."

"...Are you out of your mind?"

"No. I’m very normal. Don’t I look it?"

If you did, would I be asking?

"Why are you really doing this to me? This is our first meeting."

"Twice, if you count today."

"...Do you even know how old I am?"

"No. Do I need to? Age isn’t important."

I’m going to lose it. I’m actually going to lose it.

‘...What kind of person is this?’

A specimen I’d never met in my life.

Even as we talked, my head screamed wrongness.

Rushing in out of nowhere wasn’t enough—

‘Marriage?’

If she’d fallen for me, maybe. But she hadn’t, and still she slammed down a marriage proposal. It was beyond absurd.

"Ha."

I let out a long breath and, steadying my dizzy head, said,

"Your reason."

I looked at her squarely, and only then did she pause.

"Anything further is discourtesy. If you won’t give a reason, it’s rudeness."

I straightened my rumpled clothes.

It was to calm myself; my head cooled by degrees.

"Hmm..."

"Is it because I figured out your hobby?"

I didn’t really think that was it, but her shift had started after I said it.

At that, her brows knit slightly.

She looked bothered.

"Before I explain my reason, I have one thing to say."

"I’m listening."

"First, what I do isn’t a hobby."

"Not a hobby?"

Not a potter’s pastime? I looked at her, puzzled, and she continued,

"It’s my dream and my aim."

Her usual smile was gone; her face went still.

"..."

Dream and aim.

I thought on the words, watching her eyes as she said them.

And reached a conclusion.

"My apologies."

"...!"

When I corrected my posture and offered an apology, her eyes widened.

"N-no. I didn’t ask you to apolo—"

"No. I did take your intent lightly, so I owe you that."

"..."

I kept my tone as courteous as I could. Flustered, she corrected her posture too.

For a moment, the poise of a great clan settled over her demure stance.

"...I accept it. Thank you for saying so."

So she can do that, too.

A little unexpected.

"...So your aim connects to what you’re doing now?"

"...It does."

"How so?"

"..."

She hesitated at the ask for a reason.

I waited until it came.

"Just now... you said if I didn’t give a reason, it would be rude."

"Yes."

"Then, could you just decide I’m rude and still marry me...?"

"Why would I marry a rude person?"

"Fair point."

She gave a sheepish smile and nodded.

"Still, I’m pretty enough. Couldn’t you just take me home?"

"..."

I’d heard that somewhere. Do all the people who know they’re pretty feel like this?

The Moon Dancer of the Blue Moon Sect, for one.

‘I came looking very pretty today...! So can’t you be a little nicer...?’

"..."

And someone else stubborn for no reason came to mind.

I shook my head a little and said,

"I wouldn’t be ‘taking you home.’ I’d be the one marrying in, wouldn’t I?"

I’d definitely be a live-in son-in-law, wouldn’t I?

"...Th-that’s true."

She didn’t deny it.

"Still, can’t we somehow...?"

"I’ll be going first."

"Ah—"

She tried to say something, but I ignored it and stood.

It was obvious she couldn’t say it because it stuck in her throat.

‘Then I don’t need to hear it.’

No reason to lend an ear any further.

‘Annoying way to start the morning.’

She kept trying to speak, but I ignored her.

"I’m changing. Please leave."

"N-no..."

"If you don’t want to, just watch."

I shrugged my clothes off. I figured that would make her leave.

"...Wow..."

"..."

Instead, she watched, intrigued.

...Didn’t see that coming.

I narrowed my eyes at her.

"...Are you actually going to watch?"

"Ah...! S-sorry."

Only then did she come to and step out.

It seemed she’d just zoned out, not that she’d intended to gawk.

"...Phew."

Finally alone again. I changed into my martial clothes at an unhurried pace.

[Some man you are. Tsk tsk.]

The wicked ghost who’d been watching from the side spoke up.

Yoo Cheongil had reappeared late last night.

When I asked where he’d been all day, what did he say?

He’d taken a long walk?

Another useless answer, same as before.

[A true man never refuses a woman who comes to him. That’s etiquette.]

"That’s exactly the sort of line my father would love."

Never refuse a woman who approaches? Don’t make me laugh.

If you want to see where that road ends, just look at my father.

[Listen to the kid, all coy. Tsk tsk. Enjoying these things is a young man’s privilege. When I was your age—]

"...You met her when she was little, and you still want to say that?"

I cut him off before he could babble.

Tang Yeran had said she’d met Yoo Cheongil when she was very young.

Would he really want to say that to a girl he’d seen then?

[I did see her.]

He let out a short laugh, recalling something.

[I thought it then too—she’s grown up well.]

"...Ugh."

I shot him a disgusted look.

[...What’s with the eyes? I wasn’t talking about looks.]

Oh, you weren’t? I assumed you were.

"...Then what?"

[Looking at that child, I thought the Tang Clan’s future was bright. Even that fool, the Poison Sovereign, managed to have a granddaughter with killer luck.]

Hm.

High praise.

And—

‘Grown up well’—

meant that, in Yoo Cheongil’s eyes, Tang Yeran’s value was high.

‘He didn’t say even that much after seeing the Little Azure Sword.’

Not bad.

About that much.

He’d called the Moon Dancer a remarkable piece, though.

‘So Tang Yeran is on that level too?’

A little iffy to frame it that way.

‘Tang Yeran isn’t one of the Seven.’

She’s famous for the “Poison Blossom,” but that’s a nickname by blood—she’s a Tang by lineage.

I’d never heard she was especially strong for a late-stage prodigy.

Also—

‘The strong one isn’t the Poison Blossom...’

It was one of her brothers, if I remembered right.

‘His epithet was...’

I was trying to pull it from the haze when—

[She begged that hard—meeting her wouldn’t kill you.]

I clicked my tongue.

"She’s not someone you just follow because she begs. Her intent’s blatant—why bother?"

She’d flatly said she didn’t even like me.

Yet she clung to a marriage proposal and couldn’t state a reason?

Everything in me said,

‘Get tangled and you’ll regret it.’

A living disaster. A walking incident.

Don’t get tangled for nothing.

Especially not with a woman who reads as strange.

‘My grandmother told me, back then.’

In my past life, my grandmother once said,

‘Grandson.’

‘Yeah?’

‘You have luck with women.’

‘Oh... nice?’

‘But only crazy ones get tangled up with you. Deeply.’

‘Oh... not nice?’

‘Beware women who come to you. Not a single one will be normal.’

‘You could just curse me outright, you know?’

Hard to dismiss as a joke, given what I’d lived through then.

Sure, maybe that changed this life... but who knows.

‘No harm in being careful.’

I soothed myself and took hold of the door. I was ready to head out.

Cheon Eujin and Do Hyeong were probably already outside.

Before meeting them—

‘First, the Poison King.’

I had a parley set with the Clan Head.

Before he’d ended our talk yesterday, he’d said meeting around noon today would be good.

“Tch.”

The thought made my face scrunch.

I really didn’t want to go.

I hadn’t liked it already, and the banquet had doubled that dislike.

‘At this rate I might actually die.’

It looked like they needed me for something too, so I’d figured they wouldn’t kill me.

But I felt a faint edge of danger.

"...Tsk."

Not going wasn’t an option.

I had things to do here too.

‘Get a grip.’

No more incidents. Aim for peace.

Do what I had to and get out. With that in mind, I grabbed the handle and slid the door open—

"Hm?"

As soon as I opened it, I saw a weirdly large crowd. A lot of Tang martial artists had gathered.

And the already-departed Tang Yeran was squaring off with someone.

Her expression was very different from when she’d looked at me.

"...Brother, why are you here?"

She was blocking the doorway like she’d never let him pass.

Her knitted brow held urgency and a thin sneer.

Who was it, to draw that reaction from her?

I shifted my gaze, curious—

"Move. I told you to move, didn’t I?"

Ah.

One look and I knew who it was.

A thin, crooked smile and sharp eyes.

A young man whose face carried both the Clan Head Tang Gyeongak and the Young Clan Head Tang Jun.

‘So it’s him.’

That one. That one right there.

The Poison King’s second son, and one of the Seven like the Moon Dancer—

‘Poison Dragon Tang Cheonil.’

They called him the Tang Clan’s second coming of the Poison Sovereign, a once-in-an-era genius.

So why was someone like that making a scene in front of our quarters?

As I watched, wondering—

"Move. I came to see the Sword Saint’s heir."

"...Huh?"

I frowned at the Poison Dragon’s words.

"...Me?"

A distinctly bad feeling crawled up my spine.