Clink.

The man set down his teacup.

Soft eyes. A neatly kept beard. A mouth that curved upward. To call him handsome did not quite cover it. He was of middle years, and yet his was the face of a genial man whose age could not be guessed at.

The head of a distinguished old house of the dark path, rooted deep in Zhejiang: Woon Taeryun, Clan Head of the Black Dragon Woon Clan.

He pushed the cup forward and spoke.

“Try it. Cloud Mist tea. This one came from Mount Lu. The fragrance is quite something.”

The man seated opposite — Cho Igyeom — laughed loudly and bowed his head.

“Haha. Well now. I didn’t come here to be given tea this precious. I’ll drink it gladly.”

Cho Igyeom raised the cup and breathed in the fragrance. A cool, subtle orchid scent seemed to clear his head.

“As one would expect of the Clan Head’s recommendation — my head feels a great deal clearer. Hahaha.”

“Heh. Does it.”

Woon Taeryun nodded with a gentle smile.

“Your head being clearer, the answer to my question should be quite lucid as well.”

Cho Igyeom’s face stiffened for an instant, then settled into something troubled.

“Haha… Why must you frighten me again.”

“Frighten, he says. Anyone overhearing would misunderstand. I’m merely curious what you think.”

“Ngh. Very well. Ask whatever you like. I ought to earn the precious tea I’ve been given.”

Woon Taeryun stroked his beard, and spoke slowly.

“Why do you suppose Baekhyeon has suddenly stepped forward?”

Cho Igyeom let out a deep sigh.

“I’ve been wondering the same thing. Until now he’s devoted himself to training like some lofty ascetic… And judging by Cheon Doyun’s face, the boy hadn’t known either…”

“Still, there will be an intent behind it. Try to guess at it.”

Cho Igyeom made a low sound in his throat.

“Put simply, he trusts the Cheon Clan’s daughter. Given her reputation, no one could face her.”

“Mm.”

“And if that isn’t it… then in the end he means to shake the board, doesn’t he?”

Woon Taeryun closed his eyes and let out a sigh.

“Shake the board…”

Cho Igyeom watched for a reaction, and ventured carefully.

“He puts his daughter out in front, but in the end Clan Head Cheon means to stand at the summit himself. So it really is war—”

Tak.

Woon Taeryun set his cup down and cut him off.

“Let’s not reach hasty conclusions.”

“Yes. I was hasty. Hahaha.”

Woon Taeryun turned toward the man standing off to one side — the Woon Clan’s own candidate, and his disciple, Yoon Seobaek.

“And what do you think? Can our Seobaek handle Suryeon?”

Cho Igyeom laughed awkwardly and glanced at Yoon Seobaek.

“You’ve thrown me nothing but difficult questions today.”

“Don’t feel burdened. Speak freely.”

Cho Igyeom scratched his head, then answered firmly.

“He cannot. It would be beyond Young Master Yoon.”

Yoon Seobaek gave a small shudder, but Cho Igyeom paid it no mind.

“You know it yourself. No one has witnessed Suryeon’s martial prowess directly — and she earned the name of the Cheon Clan’s killing machine regardless.”

Yoon Seobaek could bear it no longer and cut in.

“Forgive me for interrupting, but as you say, no one has witnessed Lady Cheon’s martial arts. Turn that around and there is every chance it is a sheep’s head hung over dog meat.”

“What you say isn’t wrong. But what if she truly is a girl beyond your handling? Will you die obligingly then, saying, ‘It seems I was mistaken’? Don’t forget that this trial is a death match. If you die, the Woon Clan suffers the great loss of an outstanding talent.”

“But I am confident! Whether it’s the Cheon Clan’s killing machine, or the Alliance Lord’s child come from the Murim Alliance!”

Yoon Seobaek would not have it. Woon Taeryun looked at him with a benevolent smile.

“Seobaek.”

Yoon Seobaek made a low sound and lowered his head.

“Forgive me. Your disciple has behaved disgracefully.”

Woon Taeryun shook his head.

“No. It’s only natural for a man’s competitive spirit to rise. But this master does not wish to lose a disciple to his own greed. Will you understand this poor master’s heart?”

Something wavered in Yoon Seobaek’s eyes. The tendons stood out on his clenched fist, as though to say his pride had taken a wound.

But Woon Taeryun took no notice of it whatsoever.

“What is it. Does this master’s heart not sit well with you?”

Yoon Seobaek flinched, and raised his head.

The eyes looking back at him were gentle — but those pupils, black as pitch, gave off something eerie he could not have named. He swallowed hard and lowered his head again.

“Y-your disciple was foolish. I will follow the Master’s will.”

“Good. Thank you for understanding this master’s heart. I have more to discuss with Clan Head Cho, so go back and rest now.”

Yoon Seobaek looked as though something were left unsaid, but bowed obediently.

“Then your disciple will withdraw.”

Once he had gone, Cho Igyeom sighed deeply.

“You really are a wicked man. You’d rather not be the villain, so you have me play it instead.”

At the complaint Woon Taeryun gave a small laugh.

“What are you talking about. I merely asked for your opinion.”

Cho Igyeom grumbled a little, then turned serious.

“Then ask me the real question. What is it you want to know, that you’d send out even that precious disciple of yours?”

Tak.

Woon Taeryun set down his cup, and his expression changed with it. The smile that had hung at his mouth from the first was gone.

“This time I’d like to hear your real assessment.”

“You mean about Young Master Seo?”

Woon Taeryun nodded.

“A curious boy. I expected him to be easy to handle, and he defied our will from the very start. So I cut off support — he seemed to be under the impression that he was something.”

A bitter smile touched Cho Igyeom’s mouth.

‘And you extended a hand when he was in trouble.’

But that intent had not been realized.

“The Crazed Fiend I could let pass. But what he showed in this second trial drew admiration out of me — which is why I find myself deliberating.”

“Over whether to take his hand again?”

Woon Taeryun nodded slightly.

“Rin said something to me. That the boy is a double-edged sword — that mishandled, he will cut us instead.”

“The young lady’s judgment has never yet been wrong. I’m sure of it as well.”

“And you? What did you make of him, watching? I’m curious what the eye of the Central Plains’ foremost information merchant sees.”

Cho Igyeom scratched his head.

“The Central Plains’ foremost — you flatter me far too much, haha. Well. Since you ask what I think… let me see. To begin with, he’s curious.”

“Are you repeating me?”

“Haha. There’s simply no better word for it. Curious. Truly curious. Judged on the surface alone, there’s nothing special about the man. You said just now that nobody knows Suryeon’s martial prowess? Young Master Seo is no different. As it happens, no one has witnessed his martial arts either — excepting the Four Black Dragons.”

Woon Taeryun made a low sound.

“And yet he drove out the Crazed Fiend, and burned a house of the dark path to the ground.”

“And one thing more. He has no fear.”

“No fear?”

“The young lady will have helped him a great deal, but even allowing for that, the lack of fear was excessive. Before the heads of the Seven Families. Before Clan Head Gok’s rough manner. He said his piece and would not be moved. Even before Clan Head Cheon — tense he may have been, but he kept his head up.”

Woon Taeryun’s eyebrows twitched.

“If you take his hand, it will go one of two ways. Either he brings about everything you intend. Or he becomes the greatest obstacle in your path.”

“Interesting.”

Woon Taeryun lifted his cup, realized he had already drunk it dry, and set it down again. A sign that his thoughts had multiplied.

Cho Igyeom cleared his throat softly and went on.

“But if you’re asking whether he can handle Suryeon — I do still think it unlikely.”

For an instant, a bleak light passed through Woon Taeryun’s eyes.

“And that boy is not one of my own, whom I cherish.”

A faint smile hung at the corner of Cho Igyeom’s mouth.

“If Suryeon stops him, then he’s a man of exactly that size. We need only prepare for what comes after.”

“And if he breaks through Suryeon…”

“Being rid of the curtained Cheon Suryeon is the first advantage — it would take an uneasy feeling off us. And seating a man of yours in the Alliance Lord’s chair is the second, though of course he could hardly be called perfectly yours.”

Woon Taeryun nodded.

“Regaining the strength to check the Cheon Clan would be the greatest advantage of all.”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

His finger drummed at the arm of his chair, again and again — he had fallen into some deliberation. And before long he spoke again.

“I think I’ll have to see the boy myself.”

Cho Igyeom’s eyes widened a little.

“Yourself?”

“Two pairs of eyes call him special. Shouldn’t I confirm it with my own?”

Cho Igyeom was inwardly impressed.

For the past year Woon Taeryun had scarcely stirred outside his own walls, and naturally the people he met were very few. And now Seo Woojin had entered that very small number.

“Shall I arrange a meeting?”

“If you would, I’d be grateful.”

“I’ll set a date before long.”

Woon Taeryun gave a satisfied smile, and only then refilled his own cup.

It was late at night before Cho Igyeom could return to his own home.

The Cho Clan’s base lay in Shaoxing, but he had set up a second residence in Hangzhou to handle the Dark Alliance’s business. For all that “second” implied, the estate was magnificent in scale. The characters on the signboard carried the force of dragons and serpents in flight, and the halls rose as though to pierce the sky, each boasting its own splendid grandeur.

Creeeak!

The great gate opened, and the Cho Clan’s head steward greeted him.

“You’ve returned, Clan Head.”

Cho Igyeom nodded vaguely and kept moving.

“Ah. I’ve a great deal to think about, so don’t come looking for me. And don’t bring food in until I say so.”

He was making straight for his quarters when the head steward stopped him.

“O-one moment! There is someone here who wishes to see you.”

Cho Igyeom tilted his head.

“Hm? Me? Who?”

“Young Master Seo has come. He is waiting in the receiving hall at present. He said he would wait until the Clan Head returned—”

“Young Master Seo? Man, how am I supposed to know from that? Are there only one or two Seos in this world?”

The head steward gave an awkward smile and corrected himself.

“My apologies. Young Master Seo Woojin.”

Even with the name in front of him, Cho Igyeom did not immediately follow.

“Seo Woojin? Who is Seo Woo—?”

His mouth slowly fell open mid-mutter.

“Th-the Alliance Lord’s son?”

“Y-yes. That’s right.”

“Hah.”

Cho Igyeom could find no words for it. He had thought Seo Woojin one of the last men alive who would ever call on him, which was why the words had not registered at once.

What in the world had brought him here?

“What is this? What is it about?”

However he turned it over, he could not guess at a reason.

“Ngh. Should I meet him alone? He hasn’t lost his mind and come to cut my throat, has he? Should I call up the Soaring Wind Unit even now?”

The head steward let out an awkward laugh and shook his head.

“I don’t know what you’re worried about, but there was nothing hostile in his manner. He said he had a favor to ask.”

“Hm? A favor?”

Cho Igyeom stroked his chin, deliberated, and then let out a deep sigh.

“Hah. As if deliberating here will produce an answer. Well. The receiving hall, you said?”

“Yes.”

“Right. Still, just in case — go quietly gather up some of the Soaring Wind Unit boys.”

Having given the head steward his instructions, Cho Igyeom set off for the receiving hall. He turned it over the whole way, and still no answer came. He took a small breath in front of the door, then went in.

And there was Seo Woojin.

His face was expressionless, and the eyes turned toward the window were still — a calm lake in the moment before the storm breaks over it.

Seo Woojin noticed belatedly that he had come in, and turned his head.

“You’ve returned.”

In the moonlight Seo Woojin was truly beautiful, and for that very reason something eerie came off him. A pressure he could not have described bore down on Cho Igyeom’s shoulders.

And out of nowhere, with nothing whatsoever behind it, a thought came to him.

That perhaps this man might handle even the Cheon Clan’s killing machine.

(End of Chapter 37)