Chapter 269

The Imposter- 4 “Why is this happening to me?” Jegal Hyang clutched her head in despair, finding herself in a predicament she had never wanted. Was this some kind of punishment for fleeing from the fate she was supposed to face, like a character in a novel? Reserved in nature and completely lacking in conversational skills, she had always thought she could avoid interacting with others and live secluded within her family home. But as she grew older, things she couldn't evade began to surface. “I don't even have friends my own age. An arranged marriage is way too advanced for me, waaaaah.” Suddenly, I was told to get married. Mother, shouldn't you at least know if your daughter can even speak to men first? Not every woman is as gallant as you are. Jegal Hyang knew that complaining would be useless. No, it would have been disastrous if she'd complained out loud. Imagining her mother, who didn’t study at the Shaolin Temple yet would roar like a lion at her children, she shut her eyes tightly. “Going to the marriage meeting is just going to disappoint everyone...” Jegal Sega, is the greatest martial family in Hubei Province. Surely, the people looking to marry her had certain expectations. A life partner. A legitimate wife. A woman to support them. They wouldn't want a malfunctioning wooden doll, beautiful but useless, standing before them. Jegal Hyang painted a terrifying picture in her mind of her future marriage meeting. Surely, the counterpart would be a young, promising man befitting Jegal Sega. They would all have plenty of experience with women. And yet, hearing that she was from Jegal Sega, they would arrive at the meeting venue filled with anticipation. ‘I, uh, um...’ But she would stutter and fail to answer any of their questions. ‘What a boring woman. How could I spend my life with such a woman? Even if she is Jegal Sega's daughter, what's impossible is impossible.’ Jegal Hyang could vividly imagine the future suitor clicking his tongue and storming out of the meeting place. “Eek, noooooo!” Just thinking about it felt like her heart was being torn into a thousand, ten thousand pieces. For her, it was clearly an unbearably agonizing ordeal. “No one would like such a boring woman…” Jegal Hyang suppressed her self-inflicted emotional wounds as best she could and muttered in a dejected tone. Even if she did get married, she would soon be abandoned. It was clear that a man who married her for her family name would quickly take a concubine. An arranged marriage was too early for her. At least ten years too early. No, she wished it could be delayed even fifty years. Jegal Hyang wanted to insist, but her mother was too unyielding. What should she do? In the end, Jegal Hyang chose to run away again. Not that she could truly run away, but going to her maternal grandfather’s house felt like a form of escape. However, who would have thought that even going to her grandfather’s house to avoid the arranged meeting was part of her mother’s trap? Because of that, she had to stage another escape from her unfamiliar grandfather's house. When someone accidentally disrupted the tactical formation meant to distract people, she was terrified she would be caught. “Thank you, unknown young master.” Fortunately, the young master with the good voice had let her go. Thinking of the unknown but pleasant-voiced young master, Jegal Hyang wished him happiness. But her escape was only brief. Jegal Hyang carefully approached the window and looked outside. It was practically a form of confinement. With a small sigh, she began to recall everything that had happened since she arrived. ----------------------- “Who’s this? Isn’t it Hyangi?” All the problems began when she chose her next runaway destination as her aunt's house in Wúhán. No, looking back, the trouble probably started with her decision to run away in the first place. “A-a-ah, hello.” Her aunt, whom she often saw when she visited Wúhán. Jegal Hyang, who normally struggled socially, could speak freely with her. “It’s been a while.” But it wasn’t just her aunt. “Come on in, don’t just stand there.” Awkwardly greeting her aunt and cousin, the two warmly welcomed her in. “What brings you to Wúhán?” “...” I ran away from a marriage meeting. Unable to speak the truth, Jegal Hyang bowed her head. Because of her, she missed seeing her aunt’s knowing smile. “Come to think of it, aren’t you at the age to get married, Hyangi? How’s your engagement situation?” “A-ah, um, well... There’s something holding it up.” Why do adults always poke where it hurts the most after not seeing you for a while? In truth, I don’t even have friends, let alone an engagement. Jegal Hyang gave a vague answer, replacing what she couldn't say. “Holding it up? Ah! Jegal Sega would delay it for someone talented! You were great at calligraphy when you were young. Do you still draw things like bamboo or plum blossoms? Or write poetry?” “A-yes.” I'm sorry. I’m hopelessly drawing unspeakable scenes from novels I enjoyed. “Your sister became famous as a poet! Have you considered submitting your work to literary circles like she did?” “W-well, I, uh, do something similar anonymously.” She would send paintings and poems to her favourite author anonymously. Recently, she even received a thank-you letter. Although it was delivered through the agency she sent it to because it was anonymous, thinking about it made her lips twitch with joy. A thank-you letter after numerous correspondence. Jegal Hyang treasured it, keeping it locked in a safe. “Can you show me?” Haven’t we discussed enough about recent events? While I’m happy to see my aunt’s face, I wish she would just show me to my room. I can’t handle this anymore. Just as Jegal Hyang was deep in her thoughts, a bombshell dropped. “What?!” “Isn’t it in the luggage you brought? Show it to your aunt.” “Ah, t-that isn’t...” If I show her that, I’ll end my chances of marriage, no, my life. Jegal Hyang couldn't say it. “Can’t you show me?” Jegal Hyang shrank under her aunt’s plainly disappointed look. “Here…” Rejecting someone in a conversation was an almost impossible choice for Jegal Hyang. But she couldn’t show a collection of sketches filled with life-ending drawings. After much deliberation, she brought out a beautifully written piece. As someone who spent most of her time at home with plenty of time to spare, it was a piece of paper where she had meticulously transcribed scenes from her favourite novel, to match the imagery. This should be fine. After all, I only copied the splendid scenes. It won't be the end of the world. “This is from *Tanga Pungun*?!” Her choice wasn’t a bad one. Unfortunately, the person sitting next to her aunt when she made the reveal was none other than Heosong, who had recently opened a bookshop that was barely hanging on. “*Tanga Pungun*? The novel you always wanted to publish? Wait a minute! Didn’t Hyangi say she was writing anonymously?! Could it be?! Hyangi, are you Ho-pil?” Her aunt looked at Jegal Hyang with eyes wide in astonishment. “N-no, that’s not...” “Ho-pil. That’s why you used that pen name because of your silver hair!” Silver hair was a unique trait often associated with foreigners. Unlike black hair, it wasn’t discriminated against, but using Ho-pil as a pen name was understandable. Heosong’s face lightened as if he'd just figured everything out. “My son is sharp! That’s right. It makes sense for Jegal Sega’s daughter to hide her identity if she’s writing romantic novels!” “No, no, no. That’s not it...” “Of course, it is! Your aunt knows everything! Writing romance novels must be embarrassing for a girl. Still, you shouldn’t hide it from your family!” “Is this a draft of *Tanga Pungun*?! Mother!” Jegal Hyang couldn’t help but widen her eyes as she watched Heosong grasping her manuscript, calling excitedly for his mother as if seizing an opportunity. What a ridiculous misunderstanding. She had to clear it up. “Song-a! Look at this! Life truly gives second chances. Hyangi, can you help your aunt?” “Huh?” “You like staying at home, don’t you? Relax at your aunt’s place for a while. Your cousin and I will handle the rest.” “No, really, you’re wrong...” “Yes, yes, I understand you’re not. Your aunt will keep it a secret from others!” “I’ll keep the secret too.” “N-no, that’s not what I mean...” Jegal Hyang tried to deny it desperately, but it was no use. As the author Ho-pil, hides her true identity as Jegal Sega’s daughter while having atrocious conversation skills, she can’t prevent a huge misunderstanding from spreading. In the end, the situation escalated beyond what she could manage. ---------------------- “What should I dooooo? Why won’t they believe meeeee.” In truth, it wasn’t Jegal Hyang’s fault that she was berating herself, crumpling her pretty face. Someone else might have believed her. People only believe what they want to believe in the face of greed. The heir exam for Mang-eum Jeonjang, a bookshop barely holding on amidst ambitious expectations, could be saved by *Tanga Pungun* and the appearance of Ho-pil. No matter what she said, they wouldn’t believe her. The stakes with Mang-eum Jeonjang were too high. “Miss Hyang, aren’t you talking to yourself a bit too much?” “Isn't she the famous Ho-pil? They say authors like that often talk to themselves.” She could hear the whispers of the attendants outside. "Nooo, I'm just talking to myself because there's no one else around to mind meeee." Jegal Hyang softly countered the voice outside, though quietly enough to avoid being overheard, complaining in her usual shy manner. Had she done something wrong? How should she speak to people who wouldn’t believe her no matter what she said? Jegal Hyang looked sadly at her brush and ink. “I’m causing so much trouble for Ho-pil…” I should at least write a letter of apology. Soaking her brush in ink, she paused, lost in thought. How should she write this? [Dear Ho-pil, please forgive me…] No, that won’t do. What right did she have to send such an absurd letter? It could give him a heart attack, and the famous “Daseuangak” might end up writing an essay about it. It would be better to resolve this situation and send a proper letter to Ho-pil. However. “This isn't easy…” Jegal Hyang sighed, crumpling her pretty face. An exam for the succession of Mang-eum Jeonjang. If she claimed she wasn’t Ho-pil, would her cousin fail the exam? It would be a disservice to the real Ho-pil. But she couldn’t destroy her cousin’s life either. For someone with poor conversation skills and introverted nature, being forced to choose was excruciating for Jegal Hyang. Crinkling her pretty brow further in contemplation, Jegal Hyang finally reached a conclusion. “I’ll order some food first.” To gather enough courage to speak, she first needed to fill her stomach. To take advantage of the latest conveniences, she retrieved a carrier pigeon from a corner, known as a “pigeon delivery” in the latest terms. Using a pigeon to order food. Although everything in Wuhan had been a struggle, this was at least convenient. Who came up with such a brilliant idea? Ordering from an inn was always so difficult. Why must the world make someone with poor conversation skills order food? Now she could decide on her order mentally before entering the inn, with no need to say anything before the waiter asked. When the delivery man arrived, she only needed to say, "Please leave it over there." No need for more conversation as long as she paid the exact amount. It was indeed a perfect modern convenience for Jegal Hyang. “Jajangmyeon is here. And there’s also fried dumplings.” The delivery arrived quickly, as if he was waiting for it. “Huh?” I only ordered Jajangmyeon. Something unexpected cropped up. What should I say? I only paid for the Jajangmyeon. Should I say I didn’t order dumplings? What if I did it by mistake? What if it appears I ordered them? Should I eat the dumplings then? I’m not that hungry. But the delivery man worked hard… As faced with the unexpected, Jegal Hyang’s anxiety began surfacing. The man smiled and spoke as he watched her. “The dumplings are a service for a good friend.” “What?” The man's voice was familiar. “Disappointing. Failure to recognize the voice of an old and close friend.” The man removed the hat that hid most of his face and hair in front of her. A man with black hair? No. It’s hard to look him in the eye. Too handsome. “Uh, um, w-who are you…” I don’t have any friends. This was the worst. It seemed like the man had mistaken her for someone else. She could feel his friendly aura approaching, undeterred, despite her incompatibility. Jegal Hyang averted her eyes and barely managed to squeeze out a question. “How could this be? The great Ho-pil doesn’t recognize the face of their one and only close friend?” Ho-pil? Close friend? Black hair? “Ah!” The man who introduced *Tanga Pungun* to the world. The person who risked his life for his friend Ho-pil. The manager of Daseungak. A name flashed through Jegal Hyang’s mind. As soon as Kang Yoonho made eye contact with the fake Ho-pil, Jegal Hyang, who was frozen in fear, he smiled like a hunter gazing at a prey caught in a trap. “It seems you’ve finally recognized me. Greetings, Ho-pil. I am Kang Yoonho of Daseungak.”