436 - The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel

“To regularly support the protagonist, as before, it's better to prepare a bundle of letters in advance.” It's not as if the letters I write will instantly reach the protagonist of the story. It's a two-month round trip just to Shaanxi Province, and organizing a courier group to travel to Shaanxi from the Pyo-guk takes even more time. Plus, in a few months, the snowy winter will arrive. The world I live in isn't modern, where snowplows clear the roads every morning. Given the numerous variables in delivering a letter, as before, it would be best if the Seocheon Pyo-guk Shaanxi branch handled it regularly. “Ji Woo's concept will inevitably have to be fixed as a distant sponsor.” I considered gradually warming up or whimsically stopping and reinstating support based on the protagonist's reaction, but too much time has passed. No matter what the protagonist asked or how angry they got, Ji Woo consistently sent indifferent letters and support. Changing the letter style suddenly would definitely be suspicious. “Keeping the indifferent concept is ideal, but modifying the plan based on the protagonist's replies might be best...” It's a matter of trust. If the protagonist suspected I didn’t read their letters, there's no need to reveal I've indeed never read the protagonist's letters. “How should I write it?” “Kang Gongja?” While I was pondering, the office door opened. “Jegal Sojeo. It seems I woke you.” The time was now night with the moon hanging high. The silver-haired beauty, in loose pajamas, rubbed her sleepy eyes and looked at me. “Were you working till now?” Jegal Sojeo glanced at the paperwork-strewn desk and then said to me. “A little more and I think I can rest.” “It’s really late. Maybe you should—rest first and then continue…” Avoiding my gaze, Jegal Sojeo spoke worriedly. “I have somewhere to be tomorrow.” “Then, I’ll make you some tea.” “Tea, you say?” “I learned it from Sister Hayang.” With a triumphant look, Jegal Sojeo, dragging her loose pants, disappeared into the kitchen. Right. Tea sounds good. Let's have a cup and sort out my thoughts quickly. “Here you go.” Jegal Sojeo swiftly returned with the tea, presenting it on a tray. “Thank you…” I was momentarily at a loss for words. Oh no. Did she make it too quickly to notice? Jegal Sojeo’s bare shoulder was visible, the loose part of her shirt slipping slightly. A sudden exposure of her shoulder—her unguarded, pale shoulder reflected in the moonlight looked subtly provocative. “K-Kang Gongja?” Jegal Sojeo, seemingly unaware, looked at me. If she noticed, we'd both be embarrassed. I quickly shifted my gaze to the tray. Huh? “Ah… An iced Americano at this hour might be a bit...” “Ack!” ------ “There’s no need for excessive familiarity. Maintaining a distance while ensuring they act according to my instructions is key.” I didn’t mean for you not to sleep. I'm sorry. Apologizing repeatedly, I sent Jegal Sojeo back to her room and resumed my seat. After the brief, pleasant interruption, my thoughts cleared. It was important to maintain a certain dignity, ensuring that unless it was someone as dazzling as a top-notch heroine, familiarity with the protagonist wasn’t necessary. How should the letters to the protagonist be crafted? There was no need to deliberate. “I’m an undefeated strategist when it comes to correspondence. Responding is simple.” From nighttime messages to expressing affectionate sentiments—I've got a wealth of experience in reaching out and facing rejections with many women. Though the counterpart is more the protagonist than a woman this time, the point is to stir emotions. “Since they asked to be made uneasy, I'll do just that.” Recalling past experiences pains the heart, but it’s fine. Surviving makes one strong. If the protagonist is shaken by my strength, that’s enough. [To Ranmae (亂梅).] I gazed at the carefully written greeting with a satisfied smile. “Receiving a different reaction from someone you least expect it from—it’s quite exciting.” What would it be like if someone you had no expectations of suddenly addressed you by name? Naturally, you’d re-read the letter in surprise. 一 Yoonho, what are you doing? That happened to me. When I got a sudden message from a female classmate who barely knew my name, my mind raced with thoughts. Did they hear I’d returned to school? Did they think I’d graduated, only to find out I was on a break? Why were they reaching out to me? When they suggested a coffee, I'd planned to buy a special gift if they confessed. 一 Yoonho, do you know about network marketing? It’s a trend in advanced countries. A pyramid scheme—definitely crossing the line. “Having addressed them once, the next words are the challenge.” A lengthy reply would ruin the tall, mysterious benefactor concept. I need to keep the persona, yet unnerve Ranmae's heart. At times like this, brevity packed with meaning is best. [Stay strong.] "Just give the impression you’re reading the protagonist’s letters.” I addressed them as requested by Ranmae, and told them to hang in there because they seemed troubled. What will the protagonist think? The mysterious benefactor truly read my letter. The sponsor cares for me. Surprised, they’ll closely examine the letter. Consistently pushing away only to pull once—there’s no greater joy. Although the current situation is a bit different, the teachings of Kang, the master of the push-pull dynamic with women, are reliable. “For the first time, Ji Woo has reacted. It’s bound to make a significant impact on the protagonist.” To Ranmae. Stay strong. Though few, those words hold immense meaning in the reply. “When they receive the first letter, the next should be around Chuseok.” The words for the second letter sprang to mind instantly. [To Ranmae (亂梅).] [Sending a Chuseok gift. May your face bloom with smiles.] "It feels a bit awkward to send this to a guy, but since he's feeling down, I'll pretend to care a bit more." "He mentioned liking sweet things, so I'll ask the Seocheon Pyo-guk to send something suitable as a gift." In the original story, due to a humble upbringing, the protagonist ate anything but had a penchant for sweets. It'll be a good gift. I've called him by the name he wanted, offered encouragement, and for the next letter, I'll include a gift. How should I compose the next letter? "If I've lifted the mood, it's time to drop it." Instead of using "Ranmae," I'll return to sending the usual brief notes. Work hard in training. Take care not to catch a cold. While these are everyday sentiments, unlike the previous two more generous letters, this one will lack warmth. "Even the name 'Ranmae' shouldn't become commonplace." The original protagonist knows the value of support, and since Master Jinmu's medicine needs funding, there's no need to wield authority by withholding sponsorship. However, the word "Ranmae" that I use sparingly—making even that rare—is a symbolic term showing closeness with the protagonist. Why isn't he calling me Ranmae? Did I do something wrong? Is something wrong with Ji Woo? Though unable to voice it, small feelings of resentment might build. "That's when the annual sponsorship letter is sent." [To Ranmae (亂梅).] [Stay healthy in the New Year. 15 years ago. A bond formed in the shadows of fate.] "At that point, they might guess my identity and be astounded." The benefactor who rescued the orphaned protagonist and generously donated to make him a secular disciple of Mount Hua Sect. "They'll mistakenly think, 'The person who's supported me for a year is that benefactor!'" Realizing that the person hasn't forgotten them and is still supporting them, they'll be overwhelmed with emotion, pacing back and forth. "Since this is a Korean wuxia dating sim, they included a Korean character." Regardless of how the original story concludes, the main character never meets this benefactor from their childhood. With the story diverging, I'll use any available information. "If I forge a connection beyond mere trust, it'll be difficult for them to ignore my words later on." An orphaned protagonist who's helped and funded by an old benefactor; disregarding such commands isn’t in their nature. "Let's make good use of this." If plans proceed accordingly, I can guide the protagonist to follow the original storyline. I finished writing the letters meant for the protagonist until spring and sealed them in envelopes. *** "Jegal Sojeo, I’m heading out now." The next morning, Jegal Hyang sat at the breakfast table and greeted Kang Yun Ho, who bore a fatigued expression as he prepared to leave. "Eh? Aren’t you having breakfast?" "I need to stop by the Seocheon Pyo-guk this morning. It was unexpected, so I must move quickly." He needed to detail how the Seocheon Pyo-guk should deliver the letters to the protagonist. Kang Yun Ho considered this important enough to handle personally, even from the morning. "Still..." Breakfast is the time I eat with Kang Gongja. Jegal Sojeo gazed at the freshly prepared dishes on the table, speaking with a touch of regret. "Haha. Thanks for worrying, but I won’t die from skipping a meal." "Alright…" You didn’t have dinner with me yesterday either. Jegal Hyang thought of saying it but couldn't voice it, and without realizing, her shoulders drooped. "Please organize last month's sales reports. It's urgent, so I'll be off." Jegal Hyang, feeling a bit guilty, said nothing to the departing Kang Yun Ho. "Sigh…" She finished her meal alone and walked back to the paperwork-filled office. Originally, the documents were meant to be handled by two women and one man. Though her sister handed over some tasks before leaving, significant responsibilities naturally fell to those suited for them. Dipping her brush into ink, Jegal Hyang started organizing. Morning. Afternoon. The papers never seem to decrease. "This is just…" Alone in the quiet office, Jegal Hyang sat at the desk, muttering in a slightly gloomy tone. Reflecting on a recent realization. "I think Sister Hayang set me up…"