Deokju, who’d been shut out of the Energy Barrier, looked at me with a flustered face. She didn’t know what to do, fidgeting with her throwing knife.

If she broke the Energy Barrier recklessly, I could get dragged into it, but if she just stood there, that wasn’t an option either—she looked like she was stuck weighing it.

I met Deokju’s eyes and bit the soft flesh inside my mouth.

I tried to gauge whether the poison in my bracelet was potent enough to subdue Hwahong, but I couldn’t be sure.

No— I couldn’t even be sure poison would # Nоvеlight # work on Hwahong at all.

As my hand slowly crept toward my sleeve, Hwahong spoke in a gentle, even voice.

“I have no intention of harming you, young lady. How could I lay a hand on Choryeon’s lovely daughter? I only wished to offer you a cup of warm tea.”

“That doesn’t sound like something you’d say after separating me from my guard.”

“Ah. If I have made you uneasy, young lady, I apologize. There were things I wished to say that I did not want your guard to hear, so I had no choice but to use my hand.”

Lowering her long lashes, Hwahong set a kettle on a small brazier.

“Because it’s a private conversation?”

“That’s right.”

When the water came to a boil, the kettle’s spout breathed out hot steam.

I waved a hand at Deokju.

It’s. Fine.

At the shape of my mouth, Deokju’s gaze softened.

But she didn’t put the throwing knife away. Like she refused to loosen the cord of tension.

Even under Deokju’s sharp vigilance, Hwahong only smiled as if nothing had happened.

Unhurriedly, she brewed tea and set a warm cup in front of me.

“Drink while it’s warm, young lady.”

Of course, I only pretended to sip before setting the cup down again. Hwahong laughed out loud like she’d expected it.

“Strong caution suits you too—you take after Choryeon. That girl wouldn’t drink tea unless it was tea I poured.”

Hwahong’s eyes, searching for Choryeon in me, grew faint and distant. It wasn’t a cheerful look.

I cut in flatly.

“I’m not Choryeon.”

“......If you were displeased, I apologize, young lady. For a moment, I sank into memory and committed a rudeness.”

Hwahong apologized cleanly and laced her fingers together.

I studied her hands. They were pretty for her age, with no traces of martial training.

But she was a master capable of spreading an Energy Barrier Deokju couldn’t pierce. Which meant she definitely used something other than a sword.

When my eyes darted busily, Hwahong let out a soft laugh.

“You’re wondering where my cultivation came from, aren’t you? I learned Sound Art. I’m not quick-bodied like a martial artist, but unlike most courtesans, I’ve gathered a fair amount of internal energy.”

“You can tell me that?”

“There’s no reason I can’t. You already suspect me, young lady—so isn’t it better to speak honestly, if it will earn your trust?”

What would a brothel proprietress gain from earning my trust?

I frowned and looked at Hwahong. Her expression gave nothing away.

Then a thought shot through my head, and my eyes widened.

A courtesan’s identity that no one would ever suspect. An absurd amount of internal energy for someone like that. Sound Art—something ordinary sects didn’t use.

I wiped the sweat pooling in my palm onto my knee and asked.

“Are you someone from the Hao Gate, Proprietress?”

At my question, Hwahong’s eyes changed.

*****

The Hao Gate.

A sect that wrote its name with the character for “low” and the character for “filthy.” A network founded by people the martial world treated as beneath notice—thieves, pickpockets, courtesans, coachmen, inn attendants—an information organization built from the discarded.

It was also considered a rival to the Beggars’ Union.

If the Beggars’ Union did business off information gathered outside, begging in the open, the Hao Gate did business off information gathered while its people did business—selling goods, carrying passengers, living inside the flow of daily life.

Because of that, the Hao Gate often had more detailed information than the Beggars’ Union.

No matter how extraordinary a beggar was, he couldn’t just slip into an inn or a brothel and eavesdrop on every conversation inside.

That was why, if you wanted accurate information, you had to compare the Beggars’ Union’s reports with the Hao Gate’s and verify them.

Namgung Hwi always moved only after weighing both sides against each other.

I tried to drag up the dim details of the novel.

In Namgung Under Heaven, how did it treat the Hao Gate again? I remembered the Hao Gate Master was a woman, but—

If Hwahong could handle an Energy Barrier so freely, there was no way she held some low post.

Maybe my shifting expression amused her, because Hwahong curved her eyes beautifully.

“You’re clever, young lady. I planned a little trick, hoping you would notice. But you saw through it so quickly—it’s nothing but a delight.”

“Why would the Hao Gate... want me...?”

“We cannot afford to miss an opportunity to tie a string to the Tang Clan.”

“But my older brothers come and go often, don’t they?”

“What a fascinating thing to say. You should know better than anyone what kind of men your older brothers are, young lady.”

“One’s a worthless bastard, and one’s a tone-deaf fox bastard.”

“......You’re rather blunt, young lady.”

Maybe my words were funny, because Hwahong giggled. But I couldn’t laugh with her.

The way she acted like she’d known me forever only made my skin crawl.

Fidgeting with my teacup, I took a deep breath.

Why tell me this? My mother had ties to Moon-Fragrance Pavilion, sure—so maybe she figured it was worth keeping a line open, in case crumbs fell my way?

But even so, there was no reason to reveal she was Hao Gate to me on a first meeting.

If it became known that Moon-Fragrance Pavilion’s proprietress belonged to the Hao Gate, no martial artist would ever come here again.

Did she want to pull me into the Hao Gate? Or—was Choryeon Hao Gate too?

As if she’d read my thoughts, Hwahong answered.

“You misunderstand. How could I ever invite a precious young lady of an esteemed family into the Hao Gate? And Choryeon was an ordinary courtesan. I, Hwahong, wished that girl would never stain her hands with blood.”

“If you don’t want anything from me, why reveal your identity? What if I spread rumors?”

“Because you are Choryeon’s daughter.”

“...What?”

“Because you are Choryeon’s daughter, I’m letting you know that I have the ability to help you. It must never come to that, but... if, by some chance, you have nowhere to go—come to Moon-Fragrance Pavilion. I, Hwahong, will help you.”

The meaning hidden in her words made my spine go cold.

She was saying the Tang Clan might throw me away.

“The tea has cooled. I’ll pour you a fresh cup.”

As if it were nothing, Hwahong emptied my cup and poured new tea. I looked her straight in the eye and asked.

“Is that the Hao Gate’s view, or yours?”

“Both. You were entered into the Tang Clan under the Poison King’s protection. The moment the Poison King leaves his seat, it becomes only a matter of time before you’re a dog that’s lost the chicken it chased.”

“Then what do you think I should do to secure my place in the Tang Clan?”

“Impossible.”

Hwahong shook her head like it wasn’t even worth considering.

“This isn’t something your will can solve. The Tang Clan is a closed bloodline. Even the most outstanding talent—if they aren’t direct line—can only go as far as supporting the direct line.”

She took a graceful sip of tea and continued.

“For instance, Seventh Elder Tang Geunmyeong. He possesses the finest martial prowess among the current elders, yet because he is not blood, no one acknowledges him. They treat him as nothing more than the Poison King’s servant.”

So Uncle Geunmyeong was a master enough that even the Hao Gate acknowledged him. Wow. He really was good at everything.

“You may be different, since you inherited the Clan Head’s blood, but it will be a thorny path. Unless you become an absolute master who pacifies the martial world of the Central Plains, anyway.”

“So you’re saying a moment will come when I need a new identity.”

“You understand quickly.”

I couldn’t trust every word from a woman I’d met today for the first time.

But I couldn’t deny that Hwahong—who saw more and heard more than I ever could, trapped in the annex—was likely making a more objective judgment than mine. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

Even from the outside, it meant I wouldn’t survive without Tang Jung’s shadow.

So there really was a reason Grandfather was pushing my training so brutally.

When my expression hardened, Deokju—who’d been circling anxiously—worked her mouth like she was asking if I was okay.

“Now. I think that’s enough private talk. Shall we speak of something else?”

Hwahong glanced at Deokju, clapped once, and withdrew the Energy Barrier.

Deokju hurried over and looked me over.

“Are you all right, young lady?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. It wasn’t anything.”

Cold sweat beaded on Deokju’s forehead. She looked shaken in a way that wasn’t like her.

You stayed calm even when Tang Yeongho tried to tear you apart. I’m touched, Deokju.

“You worry too much. In Sichuan, who would dare lay a hand on a blood relative of the Tang Clan?”

Hwahong laughed, covering her mouth as if teasing. Deokju shot her a hard glare.

“Proprietress. Do not toy with the young lady.”

“Toy? I only told her about her birth mother. Isn’t that right?”

“Yeah. Deokju. Um... uh... She said my mother was good at painting.”

At my clumsy answer, Deokju let out a small sigh. It felt like she was choosing to let it go without reporting it to Grandfather.

“Since we’re on the subject, shall I show you Choryeon’s paintings?”

“I only said it casually— no, I mean... yes. I’d like that.”

At my reply, Hwahong nodded, then lifted the hem of her skirt and rose with effortless elegance.

“Choryeon painted wisteria beautifully. The colors were so lovely, it felt as though fragrance might drift from them.”

“I see.”

“You likely have talent in poetry, calligraphy, and painting as well, young lady. Your birth mother was one of the most celebrated artists.”

If you saw my earthworm-crawling scribbles, you wouldn’t say that. Even Tang Un, who used to correct me to death, looked like he’d given up lately.

As I recalled Tang Un’s faint smile, a thought hit me belatedly, and I grabbed at my hair.

Ah—! I left without telling Tang Un! He’ll be waiting!

“Young lady. Are you truly all right? If you’re unwell, even now we can—”

“Deokju. I didn’t tell Brother Un I was going out. He’ll scold me, right?”

“......”

Deokju nodded quietly.