Chapter 251 - The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel

The move to the new house ended more smoothly than expected. Since it was a fully furnished house, all we needed were a few personal belongings. It might not have been a big deal for me, but for a woman who had tasted the bitterness of the world after being scammed for a deposit, it must have been a rough day. I waited for Im Ha-yeon at the door to console her hard work, despite having gone through a difficult night herself. “You’ve worked hard today. Come, have a seat.” Im Ha-yeon looked surprised as I greeted her at the door and guided her to the dining table prepared inside the house. “What is all this?” Im Ha-yeon’s voice was filled with astonishment as she looked at the table laden with food. “The Sichuan Escort Agency hired servants to help with this.” Surprising, right? I was surprised too. Who would have thought that mentioning cooking in front of the head of the agency would lead them to hastily hire servants? “…” Im Ha-yeon looked back and forth between the table and me with a somewhat dissatisfied expression. Perhaps she didn't like the food. “What’s in your hand? Your belongings?” “Oh, it’s nothing. Should I sit here?” Im Ha-yeon quickly took a seat at my indication, hiding what she brought by her leg. Aha. It must be something she’d rather not talk about. I understand. I, too, had boxes I triply sealed with tape when moving. Wrote clear warnings not to open them and just leave them in the room. “Since today was tough, let’s eat.” I deliberately pushed thoughts about her hidden belongings aside to respect her privacy and enjoyed our first meal together in the new house. ----- The servants’ cooking skills were quite good. As I sipped tea after the meal, I glanced at Im Ha-yeon. Her expression had softened, seemingly satisfied with the meal she had initially been wary of. Now’s a good time to bring it up. I began to discuss the matter I had prepared to help solve Im Ha-yeon’s issues. “Lady Ha-yeon, let’s start writing the novel we talked about.” We start with the easiest way. I didn’t know the intricacies of the Usan Hao-moon incident, nor could I buy her a miracle. But simply waiting wasn’t my style either. “A novel can be Im Ha-yeon’s beacon of hope.” We need to give Im Ha-yeon, who is desperate at the thought of being forced to live her life as a courtesan, some hope. I actively support what she most wanted to do since she came to Yichang. I help her earn money through her own novel and make her believe that a miracle might be possible. It was a plan that could start right now. “If Im Ha-yeon’s novel succeeds, my reputation will also soar.” Following Ho-pil, Im Ha-yeon’s success would cement the reputation of Kang Yun-ho, the manager of Dasuhak. Of course, I wasn’t naively expecting her to write something as impactful as “Dangapungun.” Though she loved novels in the original story, she was a mute footnote and a courtesan, not a writer. Bringing hope to a disheartened Im Ha-yeon. A novel was merely a safety net. “If we part ways now, the relationship may end.” I’m not sure how Im Ha-yeon feels about me. Though I tried to approach her under the guise of my father’s ally, she might have rejected me because of a disliking for my father. The relationship of manager and employee is fine, but she also holds some resentment towards my sales tactics. Even though she asked me for help, if things hit rock bottom, our relationship could sever. Hence, the novel assistance is a well-devised plan. Editor and author. Ally and the ally’s daughter. Manager and employee. Cohabitants. By intertwining our relationship in multiple ways, it ensures that our connection remains even in the worst-case scenario. “Even in the worst situation, it will help maintain our bond.” As long as she keeps writing, we can maintain contact, even if she goes far away. We can exchange manuscripts through letters. Im Ha-yeon will find hope and challenge herself with writing, and as a bookstore owner, I’ll help publish her book, maintaining a good relationship. Be it the best or worst of times, writing would serve as a bridge between Im Ha-yeon and me. “Can I really do it?” Im Ha-yeon slumped her shoulders, speaking with a lack of confidence. “If you don’t start, a blank page remains just a blank page, and ink stays as ink. Instead of wandering aimlessly at night, it’s better to fill the white page with ink.” “I didn’t win any prize at the Yichang Literary Society.” “You were eliminated just before the final round. Considering it was your first written work, that’s quite an achievement.” This was a reason I encouraged her to write a novel. Her first novel made it to the final round's cusp. While most works that reached the final were awarded, reflecting on the original story, it was a long shot worth trying. And, there’s a way to increase the chances. “Still…” “And the important thing is, I am here.” I assured Im Ha-yeon, who looked anxious, with a tone full of certainty. “…” Im Ha-yeon met my confident gaze. “Though Dangapungun came from Ho-pil’s hand, my eyes and mouth made it a bestseller. If you just start writing, I can guide you.” Having Ho-pil and manager Kang Yun-ho together is powerful, but there’s no need to mention it every time. “The same Kang Yun-ho who supported Ho-pil and discovered Dangapungun would look at my novel...” Hope began to bloom on her once despair-ridden face. Now to stoke the flame of hope. “Take this when you go back to your room.” I handed her the box I had prepared beforehand. “What is this?” Im Ha-yeon asked, looking at the beautifully wrapped box. “It’s writing tools.” “Writing tools?” “The ink and paper got ruined in the storm, right? I happened to have procured some exquisite ones from Sichuan, and I thought of you.” I had received too many sets of writing tools as gifts from the Tang family for being a writer. I have a separate set gifted by Hwa-rin, so I don’t need these. It’s for you now. “Wow…” Im Ha-yeon carefully unwrapped the package, and her eyes widened upon seeing its contents. No wonder she was surprised; it was a luxurious set of writing tools, the kind that high-ranking scholars might receive as gifts. She’s overly moved by a surplus item, but her eyes shimmered as she looked back and forth between me and the tools. “Haha, not fond of it? I can give you something else. There's even one with a hidden knife feature.” I lightly teased her, deliberately trying to divert her from being on the verge of tears. “It’s not that I don’t like it! …Thank you. I'll use it well. I'll work hard.” “If it's you, Ha-yeon, you can definitely do it.” To lift the spirits of a discouraged writer, sometimes all it takes is a kind word. --------- It’s been two weeks since I moved in with Im Ha-yeon. Unless there is a major incident, a worker's daily life usually repeats in a similar pattern. Besides, the unremarkable daily routine helps people get back on track. Even someone like Im Ha-yeon, who seemed like she could be captured at any moment, found some hope and seemed more relaxed with no sign from Hao-moon for two weeks. I found a mild sense of superiority walking side by side every day with a beauty in a qipao—a sight any man would find hard to ignore. “You've worked hard today.” I spoke as we left work together, noticing she looked exhausted. “Ugh… I need to get right to writing when we get home.” It’s been two weeks since Im Ha-yeon started experiencing the dual burdens of being a writer while holding her other job. Yesterday, I heard her muttering painfully in her room, seemingly suffering from writer's block. “How about writing up to a certain point and then showing it to me?” I suggested with a smile, trying to ease her frustration. “I’ve only just decided on the material and laid out the story framework. I’ll show you something once I have at least half a volume written.” She was determined to start on her own. She felt that having help from the very beginning would mean the story wouldn’t truly be hers. Because of her firm insistence, I hadn’t yet seen any of her writing. “What were you talking about with the servant yesterday?” Yesterday, she seemed to have held an earnest conversation with one of the servants outside the main quarters. I wondered what it was about. “You saw that?!” “How big do you think the print shop is? Hard to miss, really.” “Ugh… it was about meal arrangements.” She touched her forehead momentarily, seeming flustered that I had witnessed it, before explaining to me. “Ah, I see.” The servants did make good meals; no overly fishy fried fish or bony mackerel as dishes from hell. Did she perhaps request something specific not to be included? “Perhaps…” Fearing she might have felt embarrassed to be discovered as a picky eater, Im Ha-yeon suddenly walked a few steps ahead and asked me cautiously: “Hmm?” “Do you have any particular favorite food?” “Not really, just the usual. Maybe food from my hometown?” Given this world of martial arts and romantic fantasy, I haven’t been particularly picky about food. Of course, I sometimes miss the humble meals from home, but it’s not like someone would make them for me. “Do you mean Korean cuisine?” Why look so puzzled? Im Ha-yeon turned back with a somewhat troubled expression. “Well, something like that. If speaking with the servant, there's no need to especially ask for Korean cuisine. I'd eat anything, really.” She seemed uncomfortable to have made a special request, as if feeling guilty. Mentioning Korean food might conjure up something strange, so there’s no need for that. A simple dish like pork cutlet or stir-fried pork would do just fine. “Korean cuisine… I’ll remember that.” Im Ha-yeon clenched her small fist, nodding as if she had resolved something. There’s no need to burden the servants. Homemade meals are important, but she should think more about writing. She’d gain weight otherwise. I decided not to voice my concern about her potential weight gain, as it might earn me a sharp rebuke, and headed to our new home with her. ----------------------- No matter how tightly you try to control it, gossip spreads like wildfire. Rumors of me and Im Ha-yeon living together had already spread among the employees. “Manager, is Sister Ha-yeon coming in late today?” Hae So-so nonchalantly asked about Im Ha-yeon, who wasn’t seen this morning. “She had a hard night, so I told her to rest today.” Carefully opening the door this morning, I saw her asleep at her desk. I didn’t deny it and informed Hae So-so about Im Ha-yeon’s absence. Im Ha-yeon seemed to be picking up speed in her writing as her room's light stayed on all night. I wonder if I should warn her about the late-night snacking that depletes calories but might make her gain weight, a writer’s worst enemy. “Had a hard night?!” Hae So-so repeated my words with a face full of shock. “She’s been lacking sleep lately.” “Lacking sleep… oh…” She awkwardly laughed, as if she still had unresolved questions, and backed away from me. What’s going on? Soon, Hae So-so approached the other female employees and whispered something in their ears. They all began to murmur with expressions identical to Hae So-so’s earlier one. “The rumors must be true.” “Ha-yeon kept denying it so strongly.” “But she couldn’t come out all day?” “Manager’s got black hair, you know.” “Ah… explains why she can’t move all day.” “The male employees saw something in the restroom… like a snake…” “No way! Seriously?!” “I overheard it too. There might not be just one but at least two or three…” “I think I’ve heard of that too.” The female employees began glancing at me—no, more precisely, at a certain part of me—with an odd mix of shock and admiration. My words about last night seemed to have quickly spread misunderstandings. “Manager.” Hae So-so approached me again with a worried expression. “Miss Hae So-so, some strange rumors seem to be spreading.” “Even if you’re from Joseon, you have to be considerate since Ha-yeon is from the Central Plains. You need to be very thoughtful about things like that.” What kind of misunderstanding are they under? Hae So-so spoke with a worried expression, like a younger sister concerned about an older sibling suffering from a difficult marriage. “It’s a misunderstanding.” “The other sisters say that even with martial arts training, sometimes a single person isn’t enough. They mentioned that right now Sister Ha-yeon, even if she can't contribute, it’s like you’re doing the work of two or three people…” I said, it’s not like that. I tried to brush it off, but this needed to be cleared up. “Who’s the manager here?!” Just as I was about to address Hae So-so, the door to Dasuhak flung open and a group of armed martial artists barged in. “What’s going on here?” Who are these guys? Three martial artists entered, each wielding a sword. They looked unkempt, with unwashed faces and scruffy beards, as if they had been traveling for a long time. By their appearance, they seemed more suited for cheap liquor and gambling than tea and literature. When I asked them with a puzzled expression, one approached me menacingly and spoke unexpected words: “We heard that a courtesan who escaped from our tavern is working here.”