CH 7
The Demonic Sect's Moonlit Village.
Outside the circular lake at the center, a bustling commercial district and residential area had formed. Though dusk approached, the place rivaled Beijing in its vibrant crowds and glittering splendor. A majestic bridge arched like a rainbow across the lake’s center, illuminated by lanterns glowing in vivid hues every ten paces. The scene was so exquisitely crafted it might have been plucked from the heavens.
This prosperity had bloomed only in recent years, sparked by an abrupt rumor: "At Moonlight Lake in the heart of Moonlit Village, bathed in moonlight, one will meet their destined partner under the full moon." A laughable tale—childish superstition. Yet the hot-blooded junior disciples of the Demonic Sect flocked here regardless. When Chuseon Pavilion rose on the central island where Moonlight Lake’s bridges converged, the village’s golden age began.
The towering structure housed inns, brothels, and gambling dens. Lanterns lured visitors with their allure, while lakeside inn windows framed moonlit views of the water. Such ambiance could forge bonds between even the unlikeliest pairs. The pavilion’s master, far from a dull elder, was the peerless courtesan Chwi Hong-ran. Soon, disciples lingered day and night, hoping to glimpse her face when she peered from the rooftop.
Thus, Chuseon Pavilion became the sect’s youth’s favored haunt—a must-visit for its handsome men and fair women. To Third Princess Sa Haeryeong, newly arrived, it reeked of vulgarity.
"Out of the way, you fat cow!"
Swish! Sa Haeryeong whirled toward the voice. A drunkard stumbled past, arm slung around a courtesan. He’s drained a lifetime’s luck today. Had this not been Chuseon Pavilion, and had she not worn a human skin mask, his impudence would have been his last.
"Jang I-seo, your luck’s run dry. You’ll bear the weight of my temper."
Creak. She slipped soundlessly into the pavilion. Though early evening, the first floor already brimmed with patrons. A massive ginkgo tree stretched through three stories beneath an open skylight, its branches brushing circular balconies lining each level.
"Pathetic. Wasting prime hours in this cesspool." The youths’ chatter grated—fools who’d rather carouse than hone their swordsmanship. As an attendant approached, she silenced him with a raised hand and ascended to the second floor, her aura quelling the crowd.
The upper level lay quieter. Intel suggested Jang I-seo frequented this area.
"Hmm."
She spotted him quickly. Arching then smoothing her brows, she claimed a window seat distant from others. A man drank alone, no food in sight. Though youthful for twenty-eight, his plain features would blend into any street crowd.
Jang I-seo. Third Squad Leader of the Anti-Espionage Unit.
"Who’s he waiting for?"
Drinking solo? He should be hunting Jin Shan Papa, not lounging here. Her eyes narrowed at his nonchalance.
"My lady, your order?"
Without glancing at the attendant, she tossed a silver nyang onto the table. His eyes lit up—a chance to earn months’ wages with clever answers.
"Ask."
"How long has that man been here?"
He needed no clarification. "Ten days, my lady."
"Ten days straight?"
"Yes. He stays in our pavilion’s annex. Only our sect’s most esteemed guests qualify."
"An annex? Since when?"
"The upper floors house dignitaries. Shall I... convey your interest?"
"What?"
"Do you crave death?!" She sprang up, murderous intent sharpening her gaze. The attendant blanched, realizing his overreach, and scrambled back with apologies.
But fury still burned. Sa Haeryeong’s cheeks flushed crimson. How dare he imply I’d consort with that mediocrity? Calling that seventh-rank trash an ‘esteemed guest’? Chuseon Pavilion’s reputation is hollow.
"Unacceptable. I’ll confront the owner."
As she prepared to storm off, a familiar voice cut through the air. Dark clouds seemed to gather on her brow.
"Ha."
She turned with a sigh. He was watching her.
Jang I-seo.
She had caused quite a commotion, but what was done was done. Tsk. She walked to the seat across from Jang I-seo with her most composed expression and asked,
"Mind if I sit?"
"Aren’t you the woman from Zhuge Pavilion?"
"You remember."
"I never forget a face I’ve seen once. Especially peculiar ones. Don’t tell me you came here because you’ve taken a liking to me?"
"That mouth of yours still earns you beatings, I see."
Sahae-ryeong scowled and yanked out a chair to sit. Jang I-seo grinned brightly:
"Your tone suggests you’re not here for romance. What brings you, then?"
"What brings me? Since when do you address me so casually?"
"Why? Is that strange?"
Hmph. Sahae-ryeong wrinkled her nose and picked up the unused chopsticks on the table. Until now, mere eating tools—but in her grip, they became daggers to pierce his insolent tongue.
"So."
"You should watch your words."
"Noted."
"You... truly don’t grasp a thing I’m saying, do you?"
"When strangers meet under the moon, banter’s customary. Especially when a woman invites herself to a man’s table. Shouldn’t you expect as much?"
"Why should I endure such nonsense?"
"What can’t you endure? Unless you’re the Third Princess hiding behind a human-skin mask?"
The pointed question froze her momentarily. Then her lips curved. He’s sharp. No use hiding now. She opened her mouth to confirm—
"Absurd. The refined Third Princess visiting Moonlit Village to hunt suitors? Wearing a disguise out of shame? Preposterous!"
Hahaha! Patrons scattered since dawn roared with laughter.
"What?"
Sahae-ryeong gaped, torn between disbelief and suspicion. Was this deliberate?
But greater surprises waited.
Jang I-seo drained his cup, smirked, and asked:
"So. What now?"
"Why ask me?"
"Why indeed?"
He lifted his piercing gaze, whispering:
"You’re Jinsan Papa. My examination supervisor."
Thud! Her eyes bulged like lanterns beneath the mask. Since when? How? Could such a creature exist?
Yet exist he did.
That creature being Jang I-seo.
Moonlight bathed the lake as clouds parted. Sahae-ryeong didn’t hide her shock.
"How did you know?"
"I’ve been waiting."
"For Jinsan Papa?"
He nodded, refilling his cup. Truthfully, he’d waited for her—Third Princess Sahae-ryeong.
She couldn’t know this, but his answer shook her.
"Don’t fret. I’ll explain everything."
Damn. She’d slipped—composure was vital in mind games, yet he’d read her agitation. A rookie mistake.
‘Mad Dog’ Jang. Far from incompetent.
Her assessment shifted, lifting her gaze a fraction. Jang ordered fresh cups from the waiter.
"Here."
Glug-glug. He poured anew, smiling as he offered it.
"My espionage work—investigations, interrogations. But Jinsan Papa..." He shook his head. "A phantom. A trap."
Sahae-ryeong studied him, then drained her cup. A simple act, weighted: the Third Princess only drank with those she tested.
First trial passed.
His caution and patience surprised her—pleasantly so.
"Still, you should’ve sought me first."
Second test.
Jang nodded. Regardless of Jinsan Papa’s identity, protocol demanded the candidate approach the examiner.
Rising formally, he clasped his hands:
"True. I apologize for my disrespect."
This bastard. Her eyes narrowed. Stubborn yet swift to concede—a sign of shrewdness.
"Pour again."
He obliged, chuckling. She drank the second cup.
Another pass.
Their tones deepened, conversation turning grave.
"Why assist the Seventh Prince? Do you know what it entails?"
"Rising from low birth is hard. I seize any opportunity."
"Honest, yet cunning."
"I don’t do half-measures. Earn my keep—that’s my creed."
"A third-rank noble’s world differs vastly from your squad-leader status. What can you offer?"
"Enough to claim this in a year."
He raised three fingers.
"Meaning?"
"Three of seven fingers. I’ll stand among them."
Ha. Haha. Her laugh held no mirth. This wasn’t arrogance—it was delusion. As if he could best her brothers.
#Needs schooling from my brother (1)
