Chapter 121

Chapter 121
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**Chapter 121: Fairy’s Descent**

As onlookers stood spellbound, as though a celestial being had stepped down from the heavens to walk among mortals, Baek Yang-hui spoke a single, blunt line.

“Why are you putting on such airs? It’s tiresome.”

Je-gal Seol-ha’s brow drew tight with displeasure.

“Senior Brother! We haven’t seen each other in a whole year, and that is how you greet me? Tiresome? Truly?”

“What else was I supposed to say? It is the truth.”

Je-gal Seol-ha pressed her lips shut and shot him a sharp look.

“Hmph. I heard your voice through the crowd and came running over, delighted. I should have stayed where I was and finished my drink alone had I known this was the welcome I would get.”

“Are you pouting?”

“I am not.”

“You most certainly are.”

“I am not!”

“I am glad you came. It is wonderful to see you. It has been far too long, Seol-ha.”

Only then did Je-gal Seol-ha’s face light up with a brilliant, radiant smile.

It was a smile of such breathtaking beauty that the men nearby fell silent, gazing at her in utter fascination once again.

“By the way—where is your veil? You really ought to put it back on.”

“Ah. I took it off while I was drinking by myself. It slipped my mind.”

“Always so scatterbrained.”

“Even if I were to stumble and fall, I know Senior Brother would be there to catch me.”

Her beauty was that of an immortal fairy, yet the easy banter she shared with Baek Yang-hui was as natural as any conversation between ordinary people. Little by little, this brought the men back to their senses.

“Ahem—ahem! And who might you be, miss?” One man stepped forward, striking what he clearly thought was an impressive pose and offering a formal fist-and-palm salute as he spoke.

This was the very same man who had just been barking at So Wol-hyang to pour him more wine.

Je-gal Seol-ha turned her gaze toward him. The warmth that had lit her features when speaking to Baek Yang-hui vanished; her eyes were now cold, distant.

“A person of refinement knows that when making formal introductions, one should show deference and yield precedence first.”

In plain terms: your lack of manners marks you as uneducated.

The man’s face flushed a deep, beet-red shade of embarrassment—yet her beauty was so striking he could not bring himself to grow truly angry.

“I have forgotten all propriety, utterly captivated by your matchless loveliness. I am Jeong Yeong-sang, of the Jeong Clan Manor in Hangzhou.”

“Ah. I see.”

“And you, miss?”

“I do not feel inclined to say.”

She had already pointed out that introductions ought to begin with courtesy; she had never agreed to share names with him at all.

Even so stung by the rejection, Jeong Yeong-sang refused to back down.

“Well, names are hardly the most important thing in any case. Who would have imagined that someone so rude could have such a lovely junior sister as you? Since fate has brought us together here, why not spend the rest of the evening enjoying the pleasures of the night in my company?”

“How old are you? I am sixteen.”

Jeong Yeong-sang was twenty-six years of age. The gap between them was far too great for a stranger to make such a suggestion sound anything but inappropriate.

Yet he pressed on, unabashed.

“I am ten years your senior. If you would like, you may call me elder brother. Ha ha!”

Baek Yang-hui watched the scene unfold, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

This fool has stopped even noticing I am standing right here, has he?

It was only natural, he supposed—few could keep their wits about them upon seeing Je-gal Seol-ha’s beauty for the first time. Even though she had overcome the heavenly punishment placed upon her, her Peach Blossom Constitution remained as powerful as ever.

“Ten years is enough to transform even the most magnificent landscape—and yet you would have me call you elder brother?”

“My admiration for you is as unyielding as a diamond. It will never waver. Ha ha.”

Je-gal Seol-ha bit back the retort that rose to her lips and glanced sideways at Baek Yang-hui. She could not simply let such words pass; they grated on her far too much. Instead of speaking aloud, she sent her thought directly to his mind.
*What utter nonsense.*

In an instant, Jeong Yeong-sang’s eyes widened and locked onto her face.

“M-Miss…?”
*What are you staring at? Are you seeking death, you worthless cur?*

Diamond? What diamond?

Her gaze shifted back to Baek Yang-hui. There he stood—steady, unshaken, a presence that had shaped who she was and become the standard she admired, the one she always wished to stand beside. A solid, unyielding rock that never changed.

*That is the real diamond,* she thought.

Had it not always been so? While everyone else lost themselves in wonder at her appearance, he was the one to tell her she need not put on a show. That was why she cherished him so deeply—her senior brother.

“Senior Brother. What are you doing here? Come down, and let us speak properly.”

“I still have something to attend to. Wait a little longer.”

“Then buy me fine wine instead of making me stand about! I could not order anything myself—I have run short of money.”

“Very well. My treat—and the best there is.”

“Wonderful! Now—what is this business you are dealing with?”

Baek Yang-hui nodded toward So Wol-hyang.

“Her. I intend to ask her to come away with us.”

“Ah—I understand. From the atmosphere here, I can guess the nature of things.”

Jeong Yeong-sang stared at Je-gal Seol-ha, thoroughly confused. Her manner toward him was so different from the sharp, cutting voice that had echoed in his head just moments before. Strangely, he felt no anger or resentment—he only wished she might speak to him with that same warmth, that he might hear even a little more of that lovely, melodious voice. In that brief encounter, genuine admiration and longing had taken root in his heart.

This was the power of her Peach Blossom Constitution, reaching into the hearts of all around her.

“Lady,” Je-gal Seol-ha turned to So Wol-hyang, “come with us. You clearly have a deep understanding of music—would you not like to share thoughts with someone who feels the same?”

She looked toward the men as well, bold and unhesitant.

“You others may join us too, if you wish.”

“Ah—well…”

“Technically, it would be best if Lady Wol-hyang remained here…”

“If you would like to come, you are welcome.”

Jeong Yeong-sang and the rest found themselves quite unable to turn her down. Even the guards stationed at Lake Shadow Tower made no move to stop her as she led So Wol-hyang away.

*I had steeled myself for a fight,* Baek Yang-hui reflected, *yet everything has fallen into place perfectly.*

Sending that letter to Mount Guk-ryeol had been the right choice. He had not foreseen exactly how things would unfold, but Je-gal Seol-ha had carried out her part flawlessly.

*Assist my junior disciple and persuade Lady So to join us—two birds with one stone.* That was exactly why he had invited her to travel to Hangzhou.

—

“You are back, Yang-hui? This is delicious!”

When they returned to the room where they had left him, Adu greeted them brightly. Baek Yang-hui found himself smiling in spite of himself—this one had been busy eating through all the commotion, it seemed.

“Yes. Eat your fill.”

A short reply, and then silence. None of them had properly introduced themselves yet; awkwardness was inevitable. Baek Yang-hui was the first to break the quiet.

*”Drinking on West Lake after clearing rain,*
*The beauty of West Lake is matchless indeed.”*

It was the famous verse Su Dong-po had composed when he first beheld the lake, comparing its loveliness to that of a fish swimming beneath the waves. As he spoke, gazing out toward the water through the window, So Wol-hyang turned to look as well.

“You must be very fond of Su Dong-po, young master.”

“Anyone who loves poetry cannot help but admire him.”

She offered no reply, but he caught a flicker of her true feelings.

*Gained some ground there,* he thought with quiet satisfaction. *As I ought to have done.*

He spoke again.

“Lady So—my junior sister wished for us to speak with you, but if you would rather not stay, you are free to go at once.”

“No—I should like to remain a little longer.”

He had expected as much. So Wol-hyang could not bear to feel indebted to anyone. Given what she sought, she might even welcome the chance to form a friendship with Je-gal Seol-ha.

*No one cares more deeply for music and the arts than she does.*

He was right. So Wol-hyang turned toward Je-gal Seol-ha, her usual calm expression softening with genuine warmth.

“I was truly moved by the melody you hummed earlier, miss. To possess such refinement at so young an age is remarkable.”

“Thank you, sister—truly.”

“To call a mere entertainer ‘sister’ is far too kind.”

“What else should I call someone who is like a sister to me? Besides—your skill is clearly no ordinary thing.”

As she spoke, Je-gal Seol-ha’s gaze fell to So Wol-hyang’s hands. Fingers smooth and pale as jade, yet upon closer inspection, marked with faint calluses—silent proof of years spent practicing, honing her gift with relentless diligence.

“Sister—which instrument do you love most?”

“I have learned many, but I am most confident in playing the seven-stringed zither.”

“How wonderful—that is my favorite instrument too! I only wish it were not so heavy to carry about.”

He watched the two women talk, easy and unhurried, and thought to himself: *It is like a living painting.*

So Wol-hyang—one of the three great beauties of Hangzhou. And Je-gal Seol-ha—whose beauty surpassed any woman he had known, in this life and the one before. To see them side by side, talking of music while moonlight filtered through the window, was like gazing at a masterpiece painted by the finest hand of the age.

As he watched, Je-gal Seol-ha felt his gaze. She turned, and their eyes met.

“By the way, Senior Brother—who is the monk?”

He had not yet introduced Adu.

“He is from Shaolin. His name is Adu.”

“A Shaolin monk? What a wonderful thing to see just after coming down from the mountains! Hello there, monk.”

Adu, who had paid no attention to anything but his food until that moment, tilted his head.

“Hm…? Half a good person.”

“I beg your pardon? What does that mean?”

“Good—but only half.”

“……?”

Je-gal Seol-ha looked to Baek Yang-hui, asking for an explanation with her eyes. It was no easy thing to tell someone they were simple-minded directly to their face.

“Our monk here is… rather straightforward. You will grow used to it as we travel together.”

“And you travel with him always?”

“I do. He clings to me as tightly as glue and will not be parted.”

Adu beamed and called out, “Yang-hui is a good person!”

“……So I am only half good, and Senior Brother is fully good? That seems strange. Ought it not be the other way around?”

“You certainly have a sharp tongue, Seol-ha.”

Even so, he wondered what Adu meant. *I am counted as good because of my virtuous aura. But Seol-ha has none—so why half good?*

“Adu—why is Seol-ha only half good? Explain, if you will.”

Adu scratched his bald head thoughtfully.

“Could have been not good at all—but chose to be good instead.”

“Hm?”

It was a reply that carried great weight.

*In her past life, the Enchanting Demon Queen. And in this one, Seol-ha… surely not?*

Impossible. Even seeing auras could not reveal the difference between past and present lives.

While Baek Yang-hui turned the thought over in his mind, Je-gal Seol-ha and So Wol-hyang had resumed their conversation.

“Sister—will you not play for us? I should so love to hear you.”

“With pleasure.”

At her earnest request, So Wol-hyang smiled gently and sat to pluck the strings of the seven-stringed zither set in the corner.

*Ting, ting, ting-a-ling…*

Clear, lovely notes blended with her voice as she sang.

*”The sound of flowing water is as the Buddha’s teaching; the rushing waters of the valley, swelled by last night’s rain, are as the eighty-four thousand sacred scriptures.”*

It was Su Dong-po’s *Ode to Crossing the Lake*. With a monk present, she had chosen a piece that spoke of the Buddha’s teachings. When the last note faded away, lingering in the air, Je-gal Seol-ha spoke.

“Having heard such beauty, I must offer something in return.”

As she reached for her instrument, Baek Yang-hui said, “Seol-ha—shall we perform together?”

“Huh? You and me, Senior Brother?”

“Yes. I feel moved to join in as well.”

In truth, he hoped this would leave a deeper impression—people opened their hearts more easily to those who shared their love of music, just as So Wol-hyang had warmed to Je-gal Seol-ha.

“That sounds lovely.”

“I will play,” he said. “You will sing. Agreed?”

“Agreed? It is a necessity—your singing is truly dreadful, Senior Brother.”

“I am not that bad, surely?”

“It makes my ears ache.”

*This girl…* he thought. *I shall have to teach her some proper respect and reassert my authority as senior brother before long.*

“Lady Wol-hyang—forgive the intrusion.”

When he had first come to know Yin-hu, he had known nothing at all of music. But three years spent learning alongside others, and then years as Yin-hu’s disciple, had changed him entirely.

“It is a humble skill, but I hope you will accept it as proof of my regard.”

He drew his sword and held the zither upright, vertically.

“Why do you hold your sword?”

“I have little confidence in plucking strings with my fingers. I thought I might use that which I know best—my sword.”

He brought the sharp edge to rest lightly against the strings. Not one snapped.

Then he drew the blade slowly back and forth, letting its friction set the strings vibrating. In effect, using his sword as one might use a bow. A rich, resonant tone, different from any played by hand, filled the room.

*Charang, charang, chararang…*