Chapter 225

At the familiar voice, I turned around and cried out in delight.

“Daoist Songhwa? Daoist Songgwang! Good heavens, fancy meeting you here!”

“Ahaha, have you been well? It’s even nicer seeing you outside the sect.”

“Well, would you look at that. If it isn’t the Poison Butterfly.”

Songhwa and Songgwang stood there in immaculate white Taoist robes.

They looked far more polished than I remembered, which brought a faint smile to my lips. Apparently, leaving the sect had inspired them to put some serious effort into pressing their robes.

Jegal Cheon watched us exchange greetings, then asked with interest,

“Oh? Junior Tang certainly knows a lot of people.”

“You really do. Kid, you even know disciples from Wudang?”

“I stayed with them for a little while a few years ago.”

“Ah... Right. Junior Tang, I’ll be going, then. Thank you for everything today. Enjoy catching up. I’ll see you again.”

“Yes. Take care.”

As Jegal Cheon turned away, Beopgong scratched his head, then gave my shoulder a couple of pats.

“Looks like there’s nothing to worry about anymore, so I’m off too. See you at the Alliance, kid. Hey, Jegal Cheon. Busy tonight?”

“Go tend to your master, you lousy monk. He’s the Martial Alliance Leader now. He must be too busy to breathe.”

“That’s the old man’s problem.”

Yang Gyojin stared after the departing Jegal Clan party and Beopgong, then asked,

“That guy is the Abbot of Shaolin’s disciple?”

“Apparently.”

“No wonder he looked strong.”

Muttering to herself, Yang Gyojin came over and casually rested her chin on my shoulder.

She studied the Wudang robes and the Pine-Pattern Swords hanging at their waists before pointing at Songhwa.

“Is this the Daoist you told me about?”

“No. That was Daoist Jinseong. And don’t point.”

I caught Yang Gyojin’s finger and lowered it. Songgwang’s face instantly went pale.

“M-Miss Tang.”

“Yes?”

“D-Do you perhaps have a sweetheart now...?”

“Senior Brother, please shut your mouth.”

Songhwa grabbed Songgwang by the back of the neck and hauled him behind her, then gave me an awkward smile while gauging my reaction.

Seeing that she was still as busy keeping her senior brother under control as ever made me laugh despite myself.

“She’s a woman. Gyojin, say hello. These are Daoist Songgwang and Daoist Songhwa, third-generation disciples of Wudang. And this is Yang Gyojin, Young Master of Yang Manor.”

“Hi.”

“Greetings.”

“You must be a friend of Miss Tang’s.”

“Yeah. Sohae is my benefactor.”

Yang Gyojin nodded, but her eyes showed no sign of leaving Songhwa.

“Stop staring. You’re making her uncomfortable. I take it Daoist Jinseong didn’t come with you?”

I covered Yang Gyojin’s eyes as I asked, and Songhwa answered brightly.

“Elder Jinseong is at the lodgings. We were just heading back ourselves. Would you like to come with us?”

“But we just came—ow.”

I was fairly certain Songhwa had just stepped on Songgwang’s foot.

Pretending I hadn’t noticed, I said,

“I’d love to, but I’m supposed to meet my party at the Dragon Gate Inn. Please give him my regards instead.”

“That’s a shame. Of course. I hope we didn’t interrupt you while you were spending time with your friend.”

“Oh, not at all. I was happy you recognized me first. If anything, I’m the one who kept you when you’re busy. You should get going, Daoist Songhwa.”

“All right. Then we’ll be on our way. I’ll see you at the tournament grounds, Miss Tang.”

Songhwa smiled and gave me a clasped-hands salute, then nodded a farewell to Yang Gyojin as well. Yang Gyojin casually waved back.

“Bye.”

Once Songhwa had dragged Songgwang away, Sima Hoseon, who had been keeping his distance and pretending not to notice us, cautiously sidled over and whispered,

“Are they all gone?”

“Yes. But why were you hiding?”

“You mustn’t get tangled up with people from the Nine Great Sects and the Beggars’ Sect. It makes life exhausting.”

“...What?”

“If you intend to settle down in the Central Plains, you’d be better off that way. Miss Tang, you should avoid them whenever possible as well... Ah. Right. You’re from the Tang Clan. Never mind. Please forget I said anything.”

Sima Hoseon muttered dejectedly and hunched in on himself.

Yang Gyojin was apparently accustomed to his nonsense. She ignored him and asked me,

“Are you staying at the Dragon Gate Inn?”

“Probably? I’m supposed to meet Grandfather there.”

“Then I’ll stay there too!”

“Suit yourself. But you have a formal invitation, don’t you? Didn’t the Alliance assign you lodgings?”

“Dunno.”

“How can you not know? Go check.”

“Okay. Even if they did, I want to have dinner with you.”

“If you don’t mind eating with my grandfather. I don’t think Young Master Sima will be too happy about it, though.”

I looked over at Sima Hoseon. He scratched his chin and rolled his eyes.

“If he is Miss Tang’s grandfather, then... Eeeek! Th-the Poison King! P-Please leave me out of it! I’ll stay here!”

With a shriek, he fled into the inn looking utterly terrified.

“Let’s leave him behind.”

Yang Gyojin said it as though it hardly mattered, linked her arm through mine, and started dragging me toward the Dragon Gate Inn.

She hummed as we walked, clearly delighted.

Her good mood rubbed off on me.

Being with her was easy. There were no complicated calculations involved. I could simply take her as she was.

“By the way, where’s the sable?”

“Kii!”

“Oh, it’s still alive. That thing lives forever.”

“It’s a spirit beast. It’ll probably outlive you.”

We merged into the crowd, chatting about nothing of consequence.

After spending quite some time telling me what Jang Miryeo had been up to, Yang Gyojin suddenly remembered something.

“Oh, right, Sohae. Once the tournament brackets come out, want to go place some bets?”

“...What? Do what? Where did you learn something like that? Was that Young Master Sima too?”

The suggestion caught me so off guard that I wondered if I had heard correctly, but she answered with complete innocence.

“No. Miryeo told me. She said you can make a ton of money.”

So it was Jang Miryeo...

Then again, there was no way that woman would walk past a place that practically reeked of money.

If she had told Yang Gyojin about it, she was probably planning to make a tidy profit herself.

That explanation made immediate sense, so I asked,

“Who are you betting on?”

“Me, obviously. But Miryeo said I have to diversify my investments.”

“Diversify?”

Yang Gyojin nodded and began rummaging through her pockets.

“Look. The money in the green pouch goes on you, Sohae. The blue pouch goes on the Divine Dragon, and the white one goes on the Sword Dragon. But she said the Sword Dragon won’t make it all the way to victory, so I should only bet on him to finish second.”

“How did that woman know I was entering the tournament before she gave you the money? Never mind that—why can’t the Sword Dragon win?”

“Because he’s a Daoist.”

What kind of logic is that?

I let out a disbelieving laugh.

Then again, this was Jang Miryeo’s prediction. Maybe it was worth trusting.

I swallowed.

“Gyojin. Where do you place these bets?”

******

About an hour later, I had a betting token tucked inside my clothes with a thirtyfold payout.

I had only meant to look around at first...

“The leading favorites to win this tournament are the Azure Sky Divine Dragon and the Wudang Sword Dragon. Their payouts aren’t high, but if you want the safe choice, I recommend betting on one of those two.”

“The Poison Butterfly?”

“You mean the Poison King’s disciple who registered today? The Tang Clan certainly cannot be dismissed, but comparing her to the two Dragons would be a stretch. On the other hand, she pays thirtyfold.”

“One hundred taels of gold on the Poison Butterfly.”

I had bet on myself in a fit of temper.

But how was I supposed to take it lying down when Namgung Hwi paid only 1.3 times the stake and Jinseong 1.4, while I paid thirty times?

“That’s just insulting, isn’t it? Fine, there’s a difference in name recognition, but one person doesn’t even pay double and another pays thirty times? They’re basically saying I’m guaranteed to lose.”

I fumed as I put my green robe back on.

Yang Gyojin laughed.

“I was thirty-five times. It’s fine. Miryeo said the higher the payout, the better. The more dangerous the bet, the more money you make.”

“That is true.”

Then how much do I get if I win? Three thousand taels of gold?

My mood improved in an instant.

I let the inner force gathered in my face disperse and retied my hair.

Yang Gyojin watched in fascination as my face returned to normal, then poked my cheek several times.

“Where did you learn how to do that? That’s amazing.”

“Here and there. There’s nothing on my green robe, right? I can’t look like I’ve been to a gambling den. Grandfather will scold me.”

“Nope. You’re clean.”

After straightening my clothes, I headed toward the street where the Dragon Gate Inn stood with Yang Gyojin.

Every so often, the scenery stirred old memories and brought bitterness rising in my throat, but as long as I kept my eyes forward, I could bear it.

Even from a distance, the Dragon Gate Inn was packed to bursting with customers.

There probably won’t be any seats on the first floor. I wonder if Uncle Geunmyeong reserved a private room.

I was about to step through the entrance and ask one of the attendants when someone stopped me.

“Excuse me, miss.”

I turned toward the gentle voice and found an unfamiliar man standing there.

“...Ah.”

His appearance was striking enough to steal the words right out of my mouth.

If the word dashing could be shaped into a person, it might have looked something like him.

Wow. He’s really handsome.

I stared for a moment before quickly composing myself.

“Can I help you?”

“If I startled you, I apologize. It has been a long time since I saw you, and I was so pleased that I couldn’t simply pass by. Have you been well?”

The man spoke with easy familiarity and gave me a clasped-hands salute. A faded knotted cord was tied around his wrist.

“...Uh, do you know me?”

That’s strange. There’s no way I’d forget a face this noticeable. Who is he?

When he saw my confusion, a faint trace of disappointment crossed his eyes.

It lasted only a moment. His expression soon softened into a gentle smile again.

Just as he opened his mouth to answer, Yang Gyojin put a hand over her brow, craned her neck, and called out cheerfully,

“Oh. It’s that Daoist from earlier.”

I followed her gaze and saw Songhwa running toward us, panting for breath.

“Elder Jinseong! Huff... I told you to slow down...!”

I turned in the direction of her shout and met Jinseong’s eyes as he approached at tremendous speed.

“Daoist Jinseong?”

“I heard you had arrived. And that you were staying at the Dragon Gate Inn, so...”

Uncharacteristically flustered and incoherent, Jinseong trailed off as he looked back and forth between me and the man.

His brows drew together, and he fell silent.

The two men’s peculiar gazes collided in midair.