Chapter 124

Chapter 124
**Chapter 124: The Price of a Song**

Even as fury consumed him, the Moon Pavilion Master scrambled to piece together some semblance of a credible defense. Watching him, Little Moon Fragrance laid bare her shock and sense of betrayal in the rawest terms possible.

Yang-hui stood with arms folded, gaze shifting back and forth between the two.
*Little sis… Big Sis Wol-hyang is as sharp as ever, truly.*

Their paths had crossed unexpectedly the first time, and this second meeting had also been staged to look like pure chance. As such, Yang-hui could not speak openly of what the pavilion master had done to Little Moon Fragrance’s family.
*Truth be told, I’d planned to dangle a bit of bait today, gauge his reaction, plant a single seed of doubt, and call it a day.*

Little Moon Fragrance’s response had proven far fiercer than he’d anticipated. She knew the pavilion master better than anyone—of course she would notice how thoroughly his demeanor had shifted.

“Master. I ask that you answer me.”
“If you choose silence, I shall continue speaking with the young master. First, young master—of all matters, why did you set out to investigate Su Dong-po’s bloodline?”

To claim prior knowledge of long-buried secrets would make it appear he had dug into their backgrounds. That would spell trouble.

“Sis, I came all the way to Hangzhou for two reasons: first, to secure entertainers from One Faction for our family’s trade enterprises. Second, to learn what I might of Su Dong-po’s lineage—someone I have long admired.”

By reframing the narrative, he steered clear of suspicion. He had not uncovered the truth of the So family while looking into her; rather, he had begun with genuine curiosity regarding Su Dong-po’s bloodline, followed the trail, and only then found himself standing before Little Moon Fragrance.

“Over these past few days, I dispatched members of our household to make inquiries. It appears a certain clan bearing the surname So suffered a precipitous decline over the past decade.”
“Please, go on.”
“And would you believe it—the young lady of that very household happens to be the sister I befriended just days ago. That is precisely why I wished to look further into the matter.”

He gave a knowing wink.
“It seems fate truly has bound our paths together, sis.”

Mercifully, Little Moon Fragrance pressed no further. His account appeared to satisfy her.
“I had wondered who stood to gain most from the misfortunes that befell your family. All signs pointed to the Moon Pavilion Master, did they not? I meant only to prod him gently—never did I expect such a furious reaction.”

He finished with a quiet, satisfied smile.
*This will deepen her doubts about him all the more.*

Merely sowing that seed of doubt in her mind was more than enough to make this meeting worthwhile. In his past life, the realization that she had been used to enrich the very one who destroyed her family had left a scar that never truly healed.
*At the very least, this time she will not wake screaming from her dreams.*

“Master. I await your answer.”
“Wol-hyang, do not let these baseless lies turn you astray! It is I—your family’s benefactor, your protector!”

Little Moon Fragrance met his gaze with that steady, unmistakable look of hers before turning back to Yang-hui.
“Young master, you spoke of my value exceeding ten percent of all profits earned. But I ask for the signing bonus instead. Five hundred gold taels.”
“Whatever sum you wish, sis, it is yours.”

She accepted the stack of promissory notes and extended her hand toward the pavilion master.
“Master. My heart is clouded, my mind adrift. Let us settle all remaining debts and obligations this very day. Tell me—am I a free woman now?”
“Wol-hyang! How can you speak to me so?!”

“If that is not the case, then I shall repay the five hundred gold taels in full and remain here in Hangzhou by your side, Master.”

Yang-hui frowned. Why would she say such a thing? Her unwavering loyalty, as ever, was leading her astray. She stood ready to grant him one last chance. But—
*That cur will never loosen his grip on what he claims as his.*

“What difference would it make? Wol-hyang, even were you to do as you say, nothing changes. Why persist in this?”
“Why indeed? If nothing would change at all—then why will you not speak the words that grant me my freedom?”

Before the pavilion master could grind out a reply, Yang-hui answered in his stead.
“Because it fills him with dread. What if this priceless treasure—destined to win renown across the realm and be sung of for generations to come—learns the truth and flees?”

It was the pavilion master who had orchestrated the ruin of Little Moon Fragrance’s family. Once a close friend to her father, he had stumbled upon the So clan’s most guarded secrets: Su Dong-po’s handwritten will, his personal journals, and the family registry handed down through centuries. But it was the girl herself who caught his eye—young Little Moon Fragrance, already deeply learned in poetry and painting, possessing gifts for music, song, and dance that outshone all others.
*Greed clouded his judgment. He coveted her, resolved to claim and nurture this treasure as his own.*

From what Yang-hui recalled of his past life, every calamity that befell her family had been of his making: the financial collapse that began their fall, and every hardship that followed in its wake.

“…I will hear no more. Guards!”

The pavilion master summoned the warriors waiting just outside the chamber doors.
“Bring every guard in the pavilion at once! Cast these ingrates out!”
“Master—answer her first!”
“Wol-hyang, you are overcome with emotion. We shall speak of this once you have calmed.”
“Master!”

Nearly twenty guards poured into the room. Familiar—this felt exactly as it had before.
“Master, we are your paying guests. Where in the world is a patron treated in such a manner?”
“Silence! You shall regret those words!”

Yang-hui merely shrugged and smiled. Ordinary brothel guards—what difference did ten or twenty make? He had no need to intervene personally.
“Adu, time to earn your keep.”
“Eh?”
“They are harassing Big Sis Wol-hyang. Show them the door.”

Adu nodded and rose to his feet. His towering frame nearly brushed the ceiling beams. Clasping his hands together, he intoned,
“Amitabha.”

The noble, imposing aura unique to Shaolin filled the chamber—a weighty, unyielding pressure that carried no intent to harm. The guards paled as one realization settled over them.
“Righteous energy!”
“Peak realm?!”
“At such a young age?!”

Only then did they take note of his robes.
“It… it cannot be.”
“Master, that monk—he bears the mark of Shaolin.”

Veins bulging along the pavilion master’s neck as he roared,
“Shaolin? Because of coarse robes? Get to it! This is what you are paid for!”

Steel rang as swords were drawn. Adu furrowed his brow.
“Blades wound. Will you be scolded?”

In that same moment—
“Fighting before Big Sis… it does not feel right.”

Zhuge Seol-ha stepped forward, the Heavenly Sound Pipa already held ready in her hands—the secret weapon for which the Zhuge clan was famed. She tapped the drum-shaped back of the instrument.
*Thoom.*

“Gah!”
“Ugh…!”

The resonant wave spread outward, dropping guards where they stood—some retching, others clutching their heads in unbearable pain. The vibrations penetrated deep, shaking mind and bone alike.
*Even now, the pavilion master holds his composure well. His control over internal energy is admirable.*

Though none among the guards rose above second-rate standing, there were twenty of them. And she had subdued them all with a single strike—such was the formidable power of sound arts, channeling qi directly through tone and vibration.

“Moon Pavilion Master, I can remain silent no longer. Answer Big Sis’s question—will you grant her the freedom she seeks?”

Zhuge Seol-ha possessed not only the sharp intellect for which her clan was renowned but also the Peach Blossom Physique, which allowed her to perceive what lay hidden in the heart. To her eyes,
Beneath the pretense of benevolence lay rot as dark as decaying leaves. The pavilion master was no honorable man.
*I do not fully understand why senior brother arranged this meeting, but I can hazard a guess.*

“Big Sis, I must tell you this—I can discern the thoughts hidden in one’s heart. Contrary to what you may believe, this man does not act out of pure kindness.”
“…Little sis Zhuge.”

The pavilion master’s eyes narrowed. Only now did he realize who she was—a scion of the illustrious Zhuge clan. A Shaolin monk and a Zhuge clanswoman, both in his chamber. He finally grasped the full gravity of his situation.

“…I will not surrender what is mine.” His eyes burned bright with rage as he bit back,
“I spent a fortune rescuing your family! The cost of raising you these past years was no small sum! Is it truly a crime to seek recompense?”
“Of that you speak true, Master. But—”
“Tell me—did you have a hand in any of the misfortunes that struck my family?”

Yang-hui spoke into the silence that followed.
“However deep you bury truth in shadow, dawn must always come. So too do past wrongs see the light. I stand ready to be that dawn for you, Master.”

Lies no longer served a purpose—not when a member of the Zhuge clan, one of the five great houses famed for wisdom and foresight, stood witness. The pavilion master must have believed all was laid bare. And so, he cast aside his mask.

“Wol-hyang, your parents’ folly is no fault of mine.” Greed, raw and unmasked, contorted the face that had once seemed so kind.
“I offered assistance when all was lost. I am a man of business—I acted as circumstances demanded.”

Little Moon Fragrance sank to the floor, crushed beneath the weight of revelation.
“You—father’s friend—how could you? Do you even possess a heart?”
“Wol-hyang, opening the outhouse door only reveals what lies within. Nothing changes. You merely suffer the stench.”

He turned his gaze upon Yang-hui.
“The veil has fallen. Wol-hyang must now live with this truth—hell on earth. And it is your doing. Because of you, every day hence shall be torment.”

Yang-hui held his tongue. Taking silence for defeat, the pavilion master sneered.
“Our contract is binding and lawful. She may not leave the Moon Pavilion until every debt is discharged. I have waived interest until now—no longer. Thanks to your interference, thirty percent interest shall accrue monthly from this day forth.”

“Ho. You fear no retribution?”
“As you see, my associates include a Shaolin master and a lady of the Zhuge clan.”
“Do you imagine I lack allies? This is Hangzhou! Gold buys anything!”

In his past life, when the truth finally surfaced and fury took hold, the pavilion master had crushed her resistance through brute force and authority. Given what he knew of the man, such confidence was hardly unfounded. But—
“Try it.”
“What?”
“Engage assassins. Call upon the criminal gangs you pay for protection. Pull every string you can grasp. Do it all.”

Without pause,
“For now—leave us, old man. The stench of you is unbearable.”

They say the fiercest anger settles into cold, quiet resolve. The pavilion master’s smile was icy.
“So be it. Expect no mercy. And remember this, Wol-hyang—you are mine. And mine alone!”

The door slammed shut. Tears spilled freely down Little Moon Fragrance’s cheeks.
*Talent brings misfortune that shatters all peace.* Her ancestor’s words had never rung so true.
*If only I had never been given this gift…*

Father, mother, everyone in the household—they would all be alive and well, if not for her. They would never have endured such suffering.
*What use is beauty? What use is skill?* Flowers are plucked precisely because they bloom so brightly.

Her gaze fell upon the calluses marking her fingertips. Lost to despair, she drew her silver short sword as if in a trance, raising it toward her hand—
And in that instant—
*Clack!*

A hand closed firmly around her wrist. She looked up to see who had stopped her.
“Sis, I intend to stand beside you through this. Swear that you will see your debts repaid, and I shall lend you every aid.”
“…Of course. You too seek to possess this talent of mine.”

Her voice was hollow, bitter. Given all that lay ahead, he could not let her believe that. And yet—
“You are right.”

She flinched as he offered a gentle smile.
“My price… is but a single verse of your song.”

The same price he had offered in that other life.