I got lucky.
Bang Biyeon had decided to head to Chengdu as well.
“The marriage of Young Lady Dang will draw quite a crowd. What merchant wouldn’t flock to where the people are? Besides, I want to see this Wi Cheonsang of the Sangpyeong Merchant Group with my own eyes. What kind of genius builds such a massive trading company at his age... Heh heh.”
Then he leaned in and whispered to me.
“...Plus, I’m thinking of selling your leather outfits at Chengdu’s famous brothel, Yunmeng Tower. The momentum seems to be on our side—what do you think?”
The uncles were coming along too.
“It’s about time we met the Sichuan branch leader. Let’s use this chance for another outing.”
“Gwak Du, brother. I’m coming this time too. They say Young Master Jegal Yong is so handsome— I want to see for myself.”
“What, you’re going too, Gu Yeong brother? Then I have to go. What’s the point of staying behind at Mount Emei alone? Seojin’s going anyway—let’s have some fun together for once.”
...Including the SM gear that needed to be hidden, which meant we were taking it all.
Finally...
“Yeah. All set.”
Cheongwol appeared, wrapped in a small bundle.
...I never said she could come along.
“Cheongwol. I’m just...”
“Catch the thief bitch.”
She said.
“I’ll help.”
I opened my mouth, but had nothing to say.
Cheongwol didn’t wait for my response.
Instead, she approached Bang Biyeon, who was finishing his preparations nearby, and spoke.
“Lord Bang. As thanks for the kindness you’ve shown my Emei Sect, I’ll escort you safely all the way to Chengdu.”
“Ooh...! It would be an honor...! But compared to the sincerity our merchant group has shown, isn’t this too generous a repayment...?”
“No, my lord. I too have my reasons for heading to Chengdu.”
“Reasons?”
Cheongwol glanced sideways at me for a moment, then answered with a smile.
“I need to congratulate Senior Dang Soran on her marriage.”
Bang Biyeon nodded as if convinced.
“I see. Of course, I’ve long heard of the friendship between Young Lady Cheongwol and Young Lady Dang Soran.”
The uncles nodded in admiration too. They seemed convinced by her reason.
“...”
Only I felt a bit uneasy.
I couldn’t object.
She was going to see Dang Soran—what could I even say...?
“...”
“...”
It felt like being tangled in a net, some strange sensation.
****
On the road to Chengdu. Cheongwol stuck right by my side.
The curious stares from the Changhwa Merchant Group workers around us were starting to feel uncomfortable.
I transmitted to her via ventriloquism.
“...People are looking at us weird.”
“So what? We’re friends.”
“Even so, a nun sticking to a guy like this looks odd. Men and women keep their distance.”
“So what? We’re friends. The sect leader said it’s fine. If you’re uncomfortable, go complain to Muwol Satae.”
“...”
“And like you said, I’m a nun, so it doesn’t matter even more. The ones staring at us weird are the weird ones, right?”
I tried to find some reason.
“...Didn’t you say you were escorting? Shouldn’t you be up front?”
“No presences around at all. Don’t worry. Besides, this area’s one I... Ah, never mind.”
“...What were you about to say?”
“I said never mind. And being in the center of the group makes it easier to respond if something happens.”
“...Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, right. Gotta check if the uncles in the back are doing okay. Be right back?”
“...”
“I’ve got a good view from the middle!”
I fled to the rear to escape the stares on us, and the tension that always came with being near Cheongwol.
The three uncles were strolling leisurely, chuckling and trading jokes among themselves.
...Honestly, I was so damn jealous.
First time regretting it. Should I really have become a Beggars’ Sect beggar?
Would I have lived happily like the uncles if I had?
Felt like wishing on a monkey’s paw.
*I want to hang out with girls!*
And out popped Cheongwol.
“Uncles...”
I walked over to the carefree uncles.
*That Cheongwol girl’s tormenting me...*
*I said I’d repent, but sticking with a killer still scares me...*
The uncles saw my face and brightened up.
“Young Lady Cheongwol!”
“...Huh?”
I turned. Cheongwol had scurried after me.
My heart dropped.
But she ignored me and greeted the uncles.
“How’s the journey treating you?”
****
Cheongwol herself didn’t know why she was doing this.
But she couldn’t bear even a little separation from Han Seojin. It made her anxious beyond endurance.
Her heart pounded, fingertips tingled.
Felt like the heart demon would swallow her again.
Honestly, she hadn’t liked the reason for this trip from the start.
Cheongwol wasn’t stupid.
She already knew who Han Seojin meant by ‘thief bitch.’
She remembered the moment he’d bragged about buying a gift.
The item in question was a hairpin from the Changhwa Merchant Group.
But what emerged instead was a tree branch, and she recalled Han Seojin’s rare flustered expression.
Thinking back later, it seemed Han Seojin really had prepared a gift. Especially seeing how he’d built ties with Bang Biyeon.
So where had that hairpin gone?
Han Seojin had been with Dang Soran back then... And Cheongwol knew full well the Tang girls’ sticky fingers.
Conclusion: Dang Soran had probably stolen her hairpin.
This time too, shoving one in her face.
...And if it was just to mess with her, that was somewhat better.
If she’d stolen it because she coveted a hairpin *from Han Seojin*, that would be unforgivable.
So Han Seojin’s talk of catching the ‘thief bitch’ was another way of saying he was going to find Dang Soran.
But why?
Really just to get back one hairpin?
Sure, Cheongwol planned to reclaim it eventually.
But the timing felt off.
Why go get it back right during Dang Soran’s marriage period?
What did he plan to do showing up like that?
What would he say meeting Dang Soran?
“...”
...It’d probably be fine. No need to worry too much.
Han Seojin couldn’t derail Dang Soran’s marriage or anything.
Just go, stand side by side with him, congratulate Dang Soran.
Wish her fun life with one of those splendid people.
She’d cheer for Han Seojin.
“...”
No reason for unease, yet separating from him still made her anxious.
That’s why she’d trailed after him.
From the start, parting from him always led to bad outcomes.
First, he vanished without a word, then she had to search for him at a brothel.
Next disappearance lasted at least fifty days... And he’d met Dang Soran briefly.
Every time, fights followed.
Better not to separate.
“...Ch-Cheongwol, this isn’t right?”
Finally, at night, Han Seojin whispered irritably.
Cheongwol pretended not to hear and kept going.
Late night, everyone asleep.
“...Quiet, everyone’s sleeping.”
Cheongwol wriggled close to Han Seojin and lay down to sleep.
No matter how much he fumed, she couldn’t stand not being right beside him—her mind wouldn’t settle.
And conversely, pressed this close...
...She felt like she held the world’s peace in her arms. Blissful.
****
With each passing day, the regret grew.
The clearer the names and details, the more her dislike swelled.
Wi Cheonsang.
Jegal Yong.
Namgung Yeon.
One of the three. She’d marry him.
That fact was gnawing at Dang Soran.
She lay in her chamber, passing time endlessly.
Had all noble heirs endured this suffocating experience?
Had her already-engaged little brother Jiun weathered this disgust?
She knew it was unavoidable, but as reality closed in, her heart trembled.
Tang retainers asked if she wasn’t excited.
Wi Cheonsang was flashy and generous, exuding easy magnanimity from his wealth.
Jegal Yong was brilliant-minded, silver-tongued, flawless in looks—they praised.
Namgung Yeon—she’d met him already, they said, citing his gentle nature and status as Namgung family eldest son...
...Dang Soran had never been more envied, they claimed.
Those words shook her too.
Was it really true?
A match any woman would envy?
Yet why did her heart chafe so?
Was she strange again?
“...Big sis.”
Then, her brother Dang Jiun quietly entered the chamber.
Dang Soran fiddled with the object in her hands without responding.
She lay on the bed, holding up the Changhwa Merchant Group hairpin high, turning it this way and that.
For some reason, looking at this hairpin calmed her tangled feelings a bit.
Dang Jiun stared at the ornate hairpin in surprise.
“You already got a hairpin? From Wi Cheonsang? Have you chosen him?”
“...No.”
“I misunderstood.”
“Jiun.”
“Yes?”
“...Is an engagement always this unpleasant?”
A question she couldn’t ask Father.
Dang Jiun blinked, then grabbed a chair and sat.
“For me, excitement came before displeasure, I think.”
“Really? Then I’m strange again...”
“How could you be? Everyone’s different.”
“...”
Dang Jiun seemed to sense her mood and offered slow comfort.
“Big sis. I believe you’re just nervous right now.”
“...Nervous?”
“Yes. It’s meeting a lifelong partner, after all. How could you not be tense about someone so important?”
Lifelong partner.
Obvious, since a spouse was that. But...
“...Ugh.”
Again, the reality hit, chest tightening uncomfortably.
One of those three. For life.
“But you have to meet them to know, big sis. Who knows—you might like them all so much it becomes a happy dilemma.”
At minimum, Dang Soran knew that wouldn’t happen.
She’d met Namgung Yeon already.
No intent to badmouth him, but timid Namgung Yeon wasn’t her taste.
Better someone rougher, more dictatorial.
Like...
“...”
Dang Soran’s hand froze on the hairpin.
...Lately, Han Seojin kept coming to mind.
In this situation, facing these people—why him?
If anyone knew, they’d call her mad.
That poor, shabby, selfish, petty man—what about him?
That’s not all.
A pervert who smacked an unmarried girl’s ass raw—what for?
...Only by cursing him like this could she shake the trembling heart and strange lingering attachment.
“...I can’t just tell Father to call off the marriage, can I?”
Dang Jiun rarely let out a long sigh through his nose.
Less scolding, more pitying.
“Big sis. You’ll need a spouse someday anyway.”
“...”
“You need someone in your corner.”
Hearing her brother echo Father, Dang Soran let out a wry chuckle.
Her little brother had grown up well.
“You happy with your fiancée?”
“Of course. Wasn’t at first... but over time, I grew fond. Sharing things with her I couldn’t tell you or the clan leader.”
“Things you can’t tell the clan leader...”
...She’d already had such a person.
Someone she’d tearfully confessed unspeakable things to.
The liberation of leaning on him then—she hadn’t forgotten.
Was that what a fiancée felt like?
...Someone who could give the same thrill as Han Seojin’s gift?
“No way.”
That, at least, she was certain.
Then, hating sounding weak to her brother, Dang Soran schooled her expression.
Tucked the hairpin preciously into her sleeve, propped her elbow, eyed him.
Teasingly asked.
“Done naughty stuff with your fiancée?”
“Huh? W-what’re you asking?”
“Just curious. Tell me, Jiun. Have you?”
“...If naughty, what do you mean exactly?”
“Huh? Well... um...”
Dang Soran recalled her own indecent moments.
“...Bl-blindfold... uh... tie hands... that sort of thing?”
Dang Jiun’s face filled with confusion.
“...Why’s that naughty? Isn’t it torture?”
Sudden shame hit; Dang Soran backpedaled.
“Huh? Ah, haha! Just kidding, kidding.”
“...Whew.”
Dang Jiun, somewhat relieved at the joke, stood.
His parting words.
“Big sis. Hard to find better prospects than these. It’s a step you must take eventually.”
“...Yeah.”
“And though the clan leader asked not to say, he chose them carefully—no weirdos among them. Please, open your heart and meet them.”
“...”
No reply came.
The young clan heir waited no longer, descended the stairs.
Dang Soran closed her eyes with a deep sigh.
Lifelong bond.
Meaning, finding someone to share this spot.
She stared blankly at the space beside her bed.
...The man to fill this side for life ahead.
“...”
Why only one person came to mind?
The one who’d slept beside her, day and night, for near fifty days.
Had she truly held him that dear?
...No, impossible.
What made him better than these candidates?
“...”
Yet unlike the others, lying beside him for life... wouldn’t feel bad at all. A strange thought.
Vague notion she could laugh daily.
Dang Soran slowly shook her head, as if shaking off her own sentiment.
The more she dwelled, the more absurd and foolish it seemed.
Just delusion because Han Seojin was the only man she’d shared a bed with.
No more thinking.
Summoning that poor shopkeeper to this spot would be more absurd than voiding the entire marriage talk.