Vol 1 Chapter 4: Honamdan Part 4

There were no signs yet, but if Woo’s continued presence stirred something and caused the sealed memories to resurface, then it really would be irreversible.

Yae Jinrang said more than once that this would be the last time. He had reached the limit of interfering with Kang Oh’s memories.

“The human mind is more resilient than we think. And more familiar with pain than we expect. So this will be the last.”

I understand!

Woo responded inwardly, holding tight to the warning carved deep into his heart.

He wouldn’t let himself desire anything again. Never again.

He clenched his teeth and composed his expression.

It was a skill passed down from his mother, the imperial princess. No matter how much he decayed inside, he had learned to keep a calm face. He could smile while grieving and cry even in joy. That contradiction was the only shield Woo had left.

“What a strange thing.”

Just as he steadied his emotions, Kang Oh, walking ahead, spoke up.

“W-what do you mean?”

Kang Oh rubbed his chin and spoke.

“In my life, I’ve never met a stubborn one like you, always so precise about voicing your own opinions.”

“I—I…”

Not knowing what to say, Woo mumbled under his breath.

“I like that honesty.”

“…”

The words struck like a heavy weight tied to Woo’s heart. He had deceived Kang Oh all this time, and he fully intended to continue doing so.

Though he managed not to show any reaction, his lower lashes trembled faintly.

“It’s frustrating how you never try to curry favor, but maybe that’s why it feels sincere. You could have just made the promise and forgotten it. But the fact that you didn’t offer your finger so easily… I liked that too.”

Kang Oh muttered on. It was almost as if he were trying to list out exactly what it was about Woo that had drawn him in.

But as he said it aloud, he found himself retracing the things he’d seen in Woo. Even without anyone watching, he never took the easy way out. Kang Oh had thought him servile at first, but Woo never bowed just because someone held authority.

He had once dismissed it as mere sympathy, but now it seemed almost laughable. He truly liked Woo as a person.

“I want you to be one of mine.”

Woo’s eyes widened.

“You’re going to say no.”

Kang Oh spoke like he already knew what Woo was trying to say, even before the words formed.

“That’s why I brought you to Honamgak. I wanted to show you one of the futures you could choose. If you ever wanted to become a martial artist, I can’t offer some legendary secret manual. But I can teach you, like you saw today.”

“I… I have trouble keeping my balance.”

“Then study movement techniques.”

“M-my leg is lame…”

“Do you know how many one-legged swordsmen exist in the martial world? Even Heukcheon has Dokgak Geomma.”

He was a dark-path swordsman known even within Baekragung. And Woo also personally knew a one-armed wanderer. He knew full well this was just an excuse.

“The war with Hyeolgyo didn’t end that long ago. There are many martial artists with lasting injuries. But not all of them left the martial world. Some still hold a sword even without sight. Once you start cultivating inner energy, another world opens.”

“T-talent…”

Woo murmured, shaking his head. But before he could finish speaking, Kang Oh cut him off.

“That bastard, the Third Overseer. I kept him alive for you.”

“W-what?”

“I figured you should get to hit him at least once.”

Swaying the idea of revenge like a tempting bait, Kang Oh looked every bit the ruthless man of the demonic path.

For the first time, Woo thought Kang Oh resembled his uncle, Yae Jinrang, completely.

“So let’s just practice clenching your fist. How about it?”

With a smile unusually enchanting, Kang Oh whispered. Was this how the fox demons that lured humans in and stole their livers felt? Woo thought vaguely for a moment, then shook his head.

“I-I don’t need it.”

How could a cracked jar hold water? That was the state Woo was in.

Yae Jinrang had poured every kind of medicine into him just to keep him barely breathing. This body was weak and useless, like a scrap of paper.

“I-I don’t want revenge. I’m scared.”

Woo curled in on himself like an insect. Deep down, he hoped Kang Oh would feel disgusted by what he saw.

“…Seems I was getting ahead of myself.”
Kang Oh spoke. Strangely, his voice sounded less disappointed than weighed down by something like guilt.

Woo wanted to say it wasn’t like that. But he bit his lip and held back. He just had to endure it a little longer. He couldn’t destroy Kang Oh over a passing wound that might only last a moment.

“Take a rest.”

Woo brought his hands together respectfully and bowed his head.

“P-please take care.”

And please forget about me too. Don’t waste your thoughts on a bug who trembles just from holding a sword. I hope you live a life more brilliant and happy than anyone else’s.

Kang Oh walked past Woo without stopping. It was the first time he hadn’t seen him to the door, but Woo didn’t feel upset. In truth, he was relieved.

He returned to his quarters in a gloomy mood and saw a basket of beans Yeonjin had left behind.

It came at the right time, now that his thoughts were a mess. He picked up the basket and sat down heavily on the floor, beginning to shell the beans.

—

Kang Oh arrived at Honamgak early that morning. He had called out five Honamdan members at random for sparring and finished each match without breaking a sweat.

“Frustrating. Really frustrating.”

He muttered to himself, and it was enough to make someone roll their eyes.

Ilun, sensing something unusual in his mood, quietly stepped closer.

“Has something happened?”

Kang Oh gave him a sidelong glance and adjusted his grip on the sword.

“There has. Something incredibly stupid.”

Ilun had been ready to respond, thinking it was part of his role to ease his lord’s worries. But he was left speechless. It was the first time he had ever heard Kang Oh speak in such a self-mocking tone.

He repeated quietly, “Has something happened?”

Kang Oh shut his mouth tight. Ilun didn’t press and simply waited. After a long silence, Kang Oh finally opened his mouth, slowly gathering his thoughts.

“Let’s say there’s someone who spent years being beaten by another.”

“Yes.”

“And let’s say that person couldn’t fight back because of the difference in status or strength. But then, out of nowhere, someone offers him the chance to take that revenge. What would he do?”

Only then did Ilun realize that Kang Oh was talking about the servant he had brought with him the day before.

After a moment of thought, llun spoke carefully.

“Would there be any consequences later?”

“None.”

Kang Oh answered confidently. If the man was still alive after Woo’s revenge, Kang Oh planned to kill him himself.

“If it were me, I would do my best with the strength I’ve been given to take that revenge.”

Kang Oh had thought the answer would bring him some relief, but instead, his expression grew even more subdued.

“…Did I say something wrong?”

“No. I just felt disgusted with myself.”

“…My lord?”

Kang Oh didn’t answer and gave a bitter smile.

He had been unsettled all this time because he didn’t have the courage to ask Woo directly why he reacted the way he did. And yet, the moment he heard the answer he wanted from Ilun, he immediately felt relieved. He wanted to believe that he hadn’t forced anything onto Woo. That he had given him a choice instead.

That realization made him feel disgusted. Human nature was that petty.

Kang Oh knew that what had led him to help Woo in the first place was nothing more than sympathy and petty guilt. That was why he could only think of himself as shallow. Maybe Woo sensed that instinctively. Maybe that was why he kept rejecting the hand Kang Oh offered.

“Is this about the guest from yesterday?”

Kang Oh gave a slight nod. As someone close to Kang Oh, Ilun already had a general idea of what was going on with Woo. It had been him who handled everything, from assigning Honamdan members to guard the one staying in the hills, to investigating the background of the servant named Woo.

“He said he didn’t want revenge?”

“He said he was scared.”

After saying that, Kang Oh went quiet. He knew he could never fully understand what Woo was thinking. They had lived such different lives.

He hadn’t considered that the revenge he offered might not feel like an opportunity to Woo but a burden. When Woo said he was scared of taking revenge on the Third Overseer, Kang Oh couldn’t understand it at first. It even made him angry. For all his effort, Woo still couldn’t accept what he had prepared, and it was frustrating.

Even when handed a sword, Woo still chose to live as a servant. Kang Oh could have just left it there. It was Woo’s choice, after all. But the disappointment lingered so heavily that he spent the entire night tossing and turning, unable to sleep.

By the time the dawn moon rose, he had gone over it again and again, trying to understand why he was so angry. In the end, he realized it wasn’t about Woo. It was about himself. He felt ashamed for acting as if he were offering something grand. Without even stepping into Woo’s circumstances, he had never once considered that Woo might refuse the chance for revenge.

He had only known Woo for a few months. Woo had spent eight years under the Third Overseer’s control. Whatever the reason behind his refusal, it had to be far deeper and more complicated than the shallow impressions Kang Oh had formed in that short time. And yet, when Woo didn’t accept his goodwill, he had gotten angry.

It was truly pathetic.

After all that, he had come to Honamgak first thing in the morning and taken it out on the disciples who followed him, forcing them into sparring matches. And now he was trying to pull Ilun into it too, just to hear the answer he wanted.

Kang Oh rubbed his face with both hands. He had thought he was reaching the peak as a martial artist, but he hadn’t even become a proper person yet. He had been disappointed in their master’s lack of integrity, yet he himself was nothing more than an immature, unformed man.

“Strange…”

Lost in thought, Kang Oh caught Ilun’s quiet murmur. The unexpected word snapped him back to attention.

“Strange?”

Ilun glanced at Kang Oh’s face, then cautiously opened his mouth.

“About yesterday’s match. Do you remember how I was beside the guest the whole time?”

Kang Oh nodded.

Until the very end, just before calling him up to the training hall, Ilun had remained at Woo’s side. Kang Oh hadn’t ordered it, but Ilun had always been a subordinate who could read his master’s intentions like second nature. His judgment was rarely wrong.

“To be honest, I don’t know much when it comes to ordinary people. My family may be low-ranked, but I was still born into a martial household. Still, I’ve probably had more contact with common folk than you, my lord.”

“That’s true.”

Raised by Yae Jinrang in Heukcheon like a precious treasure, Kang Oh had never lived an ordinary life. He rarely interacted with civilians. He acted with a martial artist’s mindset and lived entirely within that framework. But Ilun was different. He had lived among civilians who had no ties to the martial world.

“…Hm. I’m not sure how best to put this.”

“Go ahead.”

Kang Oh nodded. Ilun took his time choosing his words before he spoke.

“He was overly bold.”

Bold?

For a moment, Kang Oh thought it was an expression that didn’t suit Woo at all. But he couldn’t deny it. Woo always kept his head down, yet his stubbornness ran deep. When he believed something was wrong, he never backed down, even when facing Kang Oh, the Third Disciple of Heukcheon.

He acted like someone helpless or resigned, but there were moments when he would meet Kang Oh’s eyes directly. What had truly drawn Kang Oh’s attention was the disconnect between what Woo showed and what lay beneath.

Ilun continued speaking.

“When an ordinary person sees a sword being swung, they usually flinch in fear, even if the blade isn’t pointed at them. Martial artists are seen with awe, but they’re also objects of fear. Even a third-rate wanderer becomes terrifying once they draw a sword. Let alone someone like you, my lord, a master at the peak of the martial world. And yet, even as you stood in the training hall without reining in your energy, he didn’t look away even once.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Well, there are always bold ones among ordinary people. But that man’s eyes… he wasn’t just watching. He was tracking the path of the blade. Not simply reacting to what he could see in the moment. He missed now and then, but whenever your form vanished, he looked straight to where you would reappear, as if he had already figured it out.”

“…”

Kang Oh’s eyes widened. It was true that even an ordinary person could follow the arc of a sword by watching how its edge caught the light. But developing real insight was another matter entirely.

Not unless one was a seasoned master.

Even among martial artists, there were levels. According to Ilun’s account, Woo hadn’t been tracking the Honamdan members’ movements. He had been following Kang Oh’s. And to even begin to anticipate the movements of someone like Kang Oh, a master at the peak, one would have to be from an even higher tier. It required not only extensive experience but also the discernment to recognize techniques, forms, and personal habits. It was more than talent. It bordered on something else entirely.

Even if Kang Oh hadn’t been exerting himself, he was still counted among Heukcheon’s top masters.

“That is strange. It could just be natural talent, but…”

Kang Oh’s lips parted slightly. His expression was clouded with thought. What bothered him most was that there were no signs at all of Woo having learned martial arts. Even if he had been hiding his inner energy, Woo got injured far too easily. He often lost his balance, and unlike martial artists, he showed none of the usual healing resilience. These were not things that could be hidden, no matter how hard one tried.

Then, Ilun asked the decisive question.

“Is he really a servant?”

Kang Oh, who had never once thought to separate Woo from that label, felt as if he had been struck by lightning.

“That… I’m not sure.”

The words came out with difficulty, laced with doubt he hadn’t felt before.

His master, Jinrang, had told him Woo was the son of an enemy, and at the same time, the son of a benefactor.

In all of the martial world, how many people could possibly hold a grudge against the Lord of Heukcheon? More than that, how many could claim to have granted him a favor?

“One thing’s certain. He’s no ordinary man.”

As the words left his mouth, a strange realization followed.

Had he always kept his head down to hide that glint of spirit that sometimes showed in his eyes?

Woo, who had said he was afraid of the Third Overseer, had his body deeply lowered. He looked like a frail animal curling up to protect its belly, trembling all over.

“You may want to keep a close watch. If he truly is some hidden master capable of deceiving even your eyes, I’m concerned about what he might be after in Heukcheon, hiding under the guise of a servant.”

Ilun added the remark cautiously. Kang Oh shook his head.

“Even if he were a master at a level beyond my ability to recognize, there’s no way Master wouldn’t have known. Don’t you think so?”

“…You’re right.”

Ilun fell silent at Kang Oh’s point. In the current martial world, there was no one greater than Yae Jinrang. Having reached hyun-gyeong, a state of martial attainment spoken of only in legends, Yae Jinrang possessed eternal youth and unmatched strength. The realm beyond hyun-gyeong, known as jayeon-gyeong, wasn’t even considered a legend. It existed only as a theoretical concept.

No matter how vivid one’s imagination, it was impossible to believe that the ragged servant could be stronger than Yae Jinrang.

Ilun, being a rational man, folded up that theory and let it go. “But he is suspicious. That much is true.”

“Yes… suspicious.” Kang Oh let out a bitter smile.

“But Ilun, he never approached me first. He’s only ever tried to get away. All I did was list the facts, and it still left a bitter taste in my mouth. So set aside any unfounded doubts.”

“I apologize for troubling your thoughts, my lord.”

Ilun bowed his head at once.

That servant named Woo carried far too many secrets.

Each one linked to another like the pieces of a riddle that refused to fit. To Ilun’s eyes, it seemed Kang Oh neither let go of that tangled thread nor cut it loose. He only held on tighter, as if gripped by lingering attachment, or perhaps something more consuming. Something closer to obsession.

The only small comfort was that Yae Jinrang, Lord of Heukcheon, was not the kind of man who would sit by and watch danger come for his disciple, Kang Oh.

“That’s enough. Let’s call it a day.”

Kang Oh tossed his wooden sword to Ilun. Caught off guard, Ilun quickly caught it and asked,

“Are you heading back to Heedowon?”

“Yes.”

Kang Oh unfolded his lightness technique and vanished from Honamgak. Ilun stood there in silence, staring hard at the space his lord had disappeared from.

Nothing had actually happened, so why did he feel this uneasy? He couldn’t understand it at all.

“You’ve already finished them all?”

Yeonjin asked in surprise. Woo nodded and pushed forward the basket, now filled only with empty pods. His head had been a mess anyway, with thoughts of Kang Oh constantly resurfacing, so he had focused on shelling beans to keep himself distracted.

He had barely slept the night before. After tossing and turning for hours, he got up at dawn and resumed working on the remaining beans. By now, the pile of empty pods beside him had grown quite high.

Last night, when Woo hadn’t been around, Yeonjin had left the beans and gone to bed. When she returned in the morning and saw what he had done, she was shocked.

“I… I didn’t have anything else to do…”

Woo mumbled his reply, and Yeonjin frowned.

“At the very least, we should have done it together. Otherwise, it just feels like I made a guest do chores. That’s disgraceful. Look at your eyes. They’re dark as death.”

It wasn’t like anyone was going to see them. Woo didn’t care if the skin under his eyes had darkened. His attention had already shifted toward the nearly empty bean basket.

“C-could I get just one more basket?”

Yeonjin’s gaze turned sharp.

“You’re planning to stay up again tonight, aren’t you?”

“…”

Woo was silent for a moment before slowly parting his lips.

“Would it be alright if I didn’t sleep? I feel like I’ll have nightmares if I do.”

The words he spoke, though quiet, landed with a heavy weight. Yeonjin frowned slightly, then picked up one of the beans he had shelled.

“I’ll ask the kitchen first.”

Hearing that, Woo’s expression relaxed just a little.

“Thanks to you, I’ve been doing… alright.”

“I’ve got almost nothing to do, honestly,” Yeonjin muttered. Even when she tried tidying up, there was barely anything left to touch. She glanced around the room as if searching for even a speck of dust. Soon, her gaze landed on the window.

“Maybe it’s time we cleared this away?”

At the end of her gaze sat a single pale blue peony, wilting where it had been left. She had been changing the water in the vase every day, but a flower separated from its branch could never live for long.

Realizing what she was referring to, Woo shook his head quickly.

“N-no.”

Woo spoke more urgently than usual and accidentally bit his tongue. The sting made his eyes water.

He knew the peony ought to be thrown out. Whenever he had time to spare, he would find himself staring at it. Day by day, its color faded, and the petals sagged, no longer able to hold any moisture. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to discard it.

In a position where he couldn’t even accept the smallest bit of attention from Kang Oh, that pale blue peony was the only thing he kept by his side. He couldn’t cast it away too.

He kept pushing Kang Oh away, yet couldn’t bring himself to throw out even a single flower he had brought. If anyone saw that, they would have every reason to laugh.

Even Woo couldn’t tell if it was guilt or selfishness.

Sensing that Woo wouldn’t say why he couldn’t part with the flower, Yeonjin stood up.

“I’ll go roast these beans. If you light straw and roast them, they turn out really nutty and delicious.”

“I-it’s really fine…”

“Up we go,” Yeonjin said as she stood up, adding with a smile, “You worked hard, so you should at least have a taste.”

With her saying that, he couldn’t very well keep shaking his head.

As he waited for Yeonjin to return, Woo began shelling a few more beans. Even the tears that had welled up when he bit his tongue earlier had been carefully wiped away with his hand. He was, in his own way, being diligent.

When he sensed someone pacing near the doorway, Woo stood up. He figured Yeonjin must have returned with the roasted beans. Since he had also asked for another basket of beans, he figured her hands were full and she was just pacing in front of the door, unable to knock.

Woo opened the door without much thought and found Kang Oh standing there. His mouth dropped open, a breathless murmur slipping out before he realized it. He hadn’t expected Kang Oh to show up at this hour. Normally, he would still be at Honamgak around this time.

Kang Oh looked at Woo’s face, then at his hands, smudged with bean husk dust. His eyes moved past Woo’s shoulder, scanning the room. The bedding on the floor was still in place. That wasn’t all. Next to the spot where Woo had just been sitting, a small pile of empty husks had built up.

“When did the kitchen move into this room?”

His tone held a note of disbelief, and Woo flinched. Biting his lip in unease, he rushed to explain.

“I-I had nothing to do, so I asked them to bring me something to pass the time…”

Kang Oh hadn’t planned to question Woo the moment they met again, especially after how awkwardly they had parted the night before. A trace of discomfort crossed his brow.

“There’s no need to be nervous.”

Kang Oh steadied his breath before continuing.

“Today… I came to apologize.”

“A-apologize?”

Woo asked in surprise.

“I came to apologize for forcing my way of thinking onto you.”

“…”

“Everyone thinks differently. But I assumed you would hate the Third Overseer and want revenge. That was selfish of me. I never stopped to consider how you truly felt.”

Woo bit his lip. Why was he going this far? Why go so far for someone like him?

““Y-you don’t need to do this. Y-you only said those things because you were thinking of me…”

“But even if I said it was for your sake, in the end, I forced my own intentions onto you. Of course I should apologize.”

Kang Oh gave a bitter smile.

“And thinking about it now, I’m sorry for taking so long to say it. It took me a whole day just to get the words out. I really am an immature person.”

“N-no. Most people wouldn’t even apologize.” Woo said. For once, his voice held a touch of strength. Just a little, like in this moment.

“I… I understand. I’ve been through it. Again and again, I’ve… I’ve experienced it…”

Though his voice faded at the end, the clumsy burst from his tongue was meant to comfort Kang Oh.

Kang Oh gently reached out. He had noticed the faint smudge of soot beneath Woo’s eyes as soon as he stepped into the room.

“Your under-eyes are dark.”

Woo instinctively stepped back and rubbed at the corner of his eyes.
“I-I didn’t sleep well…”

“You didn’t sleep?”

Kang Oh’s brow narrowed slightly, as if he hadn’t expected that answer. Woo was puzzled, thinking Kang Oh was talking about the dark circles Yeonjin had pointed out earlier.

“Didn’t you say the area under my eyes looked dark?”

“I meant the soot you got on yourself while shelling beans.”

Kang Oh showed him the fingers he had used to wipe under Woo’s eye. There was a dark smudge on them.

Woo’s face immediately paled. He rushed over to the window and leaned over the water bowl holding the wilted peony. Though it wasn’t as clear as very fine porcelain, the clean surface of the water still showed the dark smudge under his eye.

It must have spread while he wiped his face with damp hands.

His cheeks flushed red. He roughly scrubbed at his eyes with his sleeve and bowed his head.

“I apologize for showing you such an unkempt face first thing in the morning.”

“There’s no need for that.”

Kang Oh replied as he gently touched the corner of his lips. A faint smile hovered there, barely noticeable. Woo felt discouraged, wondering if he really looked that ridiculous, until Kang Oh spoke again.

“That peony I gave you… It’s already wilted, and yet it’s still by the window.”

“T-that…”

His tongue felt too heavy to say he simply couldn’t bring himself to throw it away. But his once-sharp mind had completely stalled, unable to come up with any other excuse.

All he could do was avert his gaze, turning his head to the side.

“It was the first flower I found so beautiful… so I wanted to remember it, even as it withered.”

His voice was barely a whisper, and the excuse held no strength. When Kang Oh didn’t respond right away, Woo grew nervous and cautiously lifted his head.

Their eyes met, and he saw Kang Oh smiling softly. Like the first bud of a spring sprout, it was a gentle, fresh smile that carried a quiet sense of warmth.

Woo felt a jolt in his chest.

“Next time, I’ll bring you something even more beautiful.”

The tenderness in Kang Oh’s voice made Woo dizzy. He shut his eyes tightly.

“I’m back!”

Just then, Yeonjin’s voice called from the doorway. As if grabbing onto a golden lifeline, Woo moved toward the door.

But Kang Oh was faster. He was already closer, and Woo, with his bad leg, couldn’t move quickly.

Yeonjin, who had returned triumphantly from the kitchen with a basket of raw beans tucked under one arm and a plate of roasted beans in the other, saw the door open and smiled, thinking Woo had come to greet her.

“Are you really that happy to see the beans? You came so quick—ah.”

She looked up, expecting to see Woo, but instead, she was met with a broad chest. Then her gaze climbed higher, and she saw the face above it.

Standing before her was the Third Disciple.

Yeonjin dropped straight to the floor. The basket of beans tumbled over, scattering everywhere, and the roasted beans flew off the plate in all directions. But none of that mattered. Pale with shock, she flattened herself to the ground and begged for forgiveness.

“S-such disgrace. A servant should be attending to the guest, but I.. I brought work instead. P-please have mercy…”

Yeonjin trembled like a leaf in the wind. Kang Oh looked down at her, but his gaze held no particular emotion. All he felt was regret that he hadn’t realized Woo was so idle, leaving him to shell beans in secret just to pass the time.

“I-it was me. I asked her for it. If someone must be punished, then p-please punish me…”

Kang Oh said nothing, and the silence made Woo uneasy. He stepped forward, positioning himself in front of Yeonjin as if to shield her. His eyes, so often lowered, now met Kang Oh’s directly. Just as Kang Oh was about to say there would be no punishment, he hesitated.

There was something strange about this moment.

Yeonjin lay flat on the ground, waiting for judgment. And Woo stood before him, as if to oppose it.

Among those who served in Heukcheon, most reacted the way Yeonjin had. They showed quiet obedience and fear, followed orders without question, and seldom spoke to Kang Oh unless reporting something he had instructed.

But Woo, though he bowed to Kang Oh, never yielded his own will. He asked for orders, but if those orders went against his own beliefs, he tried to reason with him. Because Kang Oh didn’t find it unpleasant, he never felt any great discomfort. He simply thought Woo was unusually direct.

Yet now, as he looked at Yeonjin and Woo standing in the same room, Ilun’s words came back to him.

That man… he’s unusually bold.

That description wasn’t wrong. While Yeonjin was addressing the Third Disciple of Heukcheon, Woo was looking directly at Yae Kang Oh, the man. Punishing subordinates was entirely within Kang Oh’s authority. But he did not ask Kang Oh to spare Yeonjin, Instead, he offered himself for punishment in her place.

The mindset that such a thing could be negotiated… it was obvious he wasn’t just an ordinary person.

The question buried inside Kang Oh rose again to the surface.

“Get up,” he said to Yeonjin.

She hesitantly rose to her feet, but still kept her head bowed.

“This is already the second time he’s stepped in to protect you.”

Yeonjin, frozen in place, trembled at the realization that the master of Heedowon, who was usually so indifferent, had remembered her. It wasn’t joy she felt, but fear. She had been sent by Seo Mun Geumryeong to keep an eye on Woo, and her goal was to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

If she had known the Third Disciple would come to recognize her face, she would never have volunteered.

“From now on, see to it that he has everything he needs while he stays at Heedowon.”

“Y-yes, I will remember it well,” Yeonjin said, bowing her head deeply.

As she did, Kang Oh walked past her. From where he stood by the door, Woo saw him glance over and give a slight nod. Woo responded with a respectful bow of his own.

Only after Kang Oh’s presence had completely faded did Woo speak.

“H-he’s gone.”

At those words, Yeonjin, who had barely managed to remain standing, dropped to the floor. Seeing how pale her face had grown in just that short moment, Woo opened his mouth and spoke.

“S-sorry… for making such a pointless r-request…”

Yeonjin, who usually kept a measured distance even when fulfilling Woo’s requests, now wore a tearful expression. Hugging her knees with both arms, she muttered quietly. “I feel like my heart’s half gone…”

“The higher a martial artist’s realm, the harder it is to endure their presence… but the Third Disciple feels even more overwhelming than most. It was fine this time, but what about next…”She mumbled gloomily.

Woo opened his mouth, trying to comfort her.

“H-he’s not that cruel of a person. I-I think… if you explain things properly, he’ll l-listen…”

Yeonjin peeked up at Woo. It was the kind of look one might give someone who’d just said something hopelessly naïve.

“Circumstances? Explanations? People in power don’t care about that. What matters is whether the order was carried out properly and what kind of inconvenience it caused if it wasn’t. We’re just parts. Easily swapped out, always replaceable.”

Yeonjin’s voice carried a faint bitterness as she spoke with detached resignation.

Woo blinked, slightly startled.

“You really are something. I heard you served under that cruel Third Overseer for eight years. How are you still that naïve?”

“I… I…”

Woo flinched slightly at Yeonjin’s words. He had never even considered speaking to the Third Overseer. No matter how unreasonable the orders, he never objected. Even under relentless abuse, he didn’t resist. He simply accepted it, as if it were divine punishment, and at times, treated the man as though he didn’t exist. It was an attitude far too arrogant for a servant to have. But Woo had never been an ordinary servant.

All of that began to change after he met Kang Oh.

Their relationship was too entangled to treat lightly. He knew Kang Oh, but he must never reveal any sign of it. Kang Oh was someone he wasn’t allowed to acknowledge.

he had to let his guard down enough to seem naïve, it was likely because he trusted Kang Oh. That belief, the quiet certainty that Kang Oh would never harm him, had taken root so deeply in his heart that treating him with the same indifference he showed the Third Overseer had become impossible.

“You should be careful. They say even the Lord of Heukcheon doesn’t know what the Third Disciple is truly thinking. He was born different from people like us.” Yeonjin said softly.

“I know.”

Woo gave a bitter smile. Was there anyone else under the heaven who understood that truth more deeply than he did?

“He’s nothing like us.”

That single sentence came out smooth, with no hesitation or stammering. For a brief moment, something flickered in Yeonjin’s eyes before it faded. She sensed that this man, Woo, held far too many things within him. But her own experience was too shallow to name what those things were.

She simply thought of him as a man full of secrets.

“I roasted those beans so carefully, and now they’re all on the floor.” Yeonjin sounded a little deflated.

“I… I can still eat them.”

“You’re not supposed to eat things that fall on the floor.”

“You roasted those beans with such care.”

“Yes. And because of those beans, I nearly lost my head just now.”

At her gloomy mutter, Woo’s mouth shut tight. Watching her expression, he hesitated, then moved his lips again.

“T-the Third Disciple isn’t really… th-that frightening.”

Yeonjin wondered if she’d heard him right.

“I… I mean it. Please believe me.”

“Haha…”

Yeonjin let out a hollow laugh. Woo looked like he was itching to insist that the Third Disciple of Heukcheon was a kind and gentle man. Well, he had taken Woo away from that vicious overseer and given him a place at Heedowon. Perhaps to Woo, he really did seem like a man sent down from the heavens.

“Fine. I’ll believe you.”

Woo’s face relaxed at her casual remark. Yeonjin found him strangely endearing as she picked up the broom and began sweeping the beans off the floor.

She was worried that if she left them there any longer, Woo might actually eat them.

As Yeonjin started cleaning, Woo looked on and fidgeted with his fingers, as if wondering whether he should have offered to do it instead.

The disturbance had passed. A quiet afternoon settled in.