At the End of Fate’s Branch (4)
Song Hwa-rin woke up just before noon, her head pounding as if it might split open. It took several cups of honey water, brought by Su-ran, to finally clear her mind.
“Ugh, how much did I drink last night?”
A voice came from the door. “Enough to drink yourself to death.”
She turned to see Byeok Ri-dan standing there. Su-ran, who had guided him in, playfully mimed hitting him before disappearing.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“No, my head feels like it’s going to explode. I can’t remember anything from last night.”
“Then you probably don’t remember biting me either?”
“What?” Song Hwa-rin’s eyes widened in shock. “I bit you? Me?”
Byeok Ri-dan nodded firmly. “Yes, you did.”
“Why on earth would I do that?” Her voice trembled with disbelief. Biting someone? She never imagined she had such a drunken habit.
“Do you want me to tell you everything?”
She shook her head quickly as he grinned mischievously. “No, just forget it.”
Despite the headache and the turmoil in her stomach, she felt a sense of relief. She had finally said everything she had kept bottled up inside, things she had never dared to tell anyone. Surprisingly, she felt no regret.
Byeok Ri-dan asked cautiously, “Are you going to see your master?”
“No. I don’t want to.”
He pressed on, “I think you should.”
“What?”
“If you don’t, you’ll never be free of it.”
“But…”
“I’ll go with you.”
Song Hwa-rin looked up at him quietly. His eyes were clear and deep as he asked, “Do you really think that old man is so great?”
She was silent for a long time before finally speaking. “No. My master is… a pathetic person.”
Even if he hadn’t acted on his intentions to harm his disciple, the mere thought made him contemptible.
Not every branch of fate bears beautiful flowers; sometimes, it carries rotten fruit.
Byeok Ri-dan spoke calmly, “Wounds that aren’t worth keeping should be shed when the opportunity arises.”
Song Hwa-rin, who had been staring at him, said, “Can we do something else first?”
“What is it?”
She clutched her stomach. “Please, let’s get some hangover soup. My stomach is killing me.”
Byeok Ri-dan burst into laughter, and Song Hwa-rin joined in. It was the first time she had laughed so freely since they met.
When Ho Yeon-tak returned to the Gu family estate, his master, Ho Yeon-nam, was in his room polishing a sword. In his late fifties, Ho Yeon-nam’s hair was graying at the temples, and his face bore a stubborn expression. His gaze on the sword was vacant, giving off a dark aura.
“Master, I’m back.”
“How did it go?” Ho Yeon-nam asked, his eyes still on the sword.
“The Butcher Yeom-hwa is currently at Myeong-su-jang. He has five followers with him, known as the Heavenly Blade Five Friends. Their martial skills are reputed to be formidable.”
Ho Yeon-tak looked worried. Although they had fifteen disciples with them, some were inexperienced. In contrast, the Butcher and his group were well-known for their prowess.
“We might need support from the Night Alliance.”
The hand polishing the sword stopped abruptly, irritation evident.
“Are you afraid?”
Ho Yeon-nam’s cold question was full of disapproval.
“No, sir,” Ho Yeon-tak replied quickly. His master was terrifying when he got serious like this.
“I meant we should prepare in case they call for reinforcements.”
“They won’t. The Butcher doesn’t rely on others. He thinks he’s the best.”
“I didn’t realize that. I’m sorry, Master.”
The icy tension eased as Ho Yeon-nam asked quietly, “Do you know why I volunteered for this mission?”
“Why, sir?”
“Someone like Ma Bong-gi should never have become the leader. The Heavenly Sword Sect trying to control the martial world is unforgivable.”
Ho Yeon-tak knew how much his master revered the previous leader, almost deifying him as a martial artist.
But with the death of the previous leader and Ma Bong-gi’s rise, Ho Yeon-nam’s resentment towards the Heavenly Sword Sect had peaked.
When the Night Alliance sought help, everyone hesitated, but Ho Yeon-nam volunteered.
“I will eliminate Yeom-hwa myself.”
Ho Yeon-tak was shocked. Eliminating someone was not part of their mission. They were supposed to mediate between the Heavenly Sword Sect and the Shandong Night Alliance, resolving the issue with money if necessary. That was the order from Ho Yeon-se, the head of the Ho family.
Killing Yeom-hwa would create a huge problem.
“Master, I’m worried. Even if you can eliminate Yeom-hwa, the Heavenly Sword Sect is behind him. I’m concerned about the consequences.”
No matter how powerful the Ho family was, taking on the sect that produced the martial world leader was daunting.
“It’s not your concern.”
With that, Ho Yeon-tak couldn’t say more.
“I’ll take my leave.”
As he turned to go, he added, “By the way, I happened to see Hwa-rin.”
Ho Yeon-nam flinched, his hand pausing on the sword.
“Is she well?”
“Yes, she was with Byeok Gong-ja, her betrothed.”
Ho Yeon-nam’s eyes flashed intensely for a moment before he resumed polishing the sword as if nothing had happened.
Ho Yeon-tak felt the air grow heavier as he quietly left the room.
Song Hwa-rin and I had a hearty bowl of hot soup. We could have eaten at home, but we chose to go to a nearby inn instead.
After finishing her soup, she looked as if she owned the world, her face glowing with happiness.
“Ah, I feel alive again.”
I felt my own spirits lift in response. “It’s really nice.”
Back when I was the leader, I could expel alcohol from my system with my inner strength. But these days, I often find myself getting drunk, whether with Gwang-du, Baek-pyo, or her.
“So you carried me back?”
“Yes.”
Her cheeks flushed slightly. “You drank a lot too. It must have been hard.”
“I was tense, so I didn’t get that drunk.”
“Why were you tense?”
“Because you were drinking so much, I thought I had to stay alert.”
A small smile played on her lips. “Thanks for last night.”
She lowered her head, unable to meet my eyes. Now that she thought about it, she felt embarrassed about everything, especially the tears.
“It was the first time I cried since my mother passed away.”
“Do you feel better?”
She nodded slightly, still looking down.
“You once asked why I disliked the leader, remember?”
“You said someone you disliked liked the leader… Oh, don’t tell me?”
“Yes, my master liked the leader.”
“I see.”
That wretched old man. The thought of him liking someone like that made me feel worse.
Regardless of my feelings, I realized once again how Byeok Ri-dan’s life was intertwined with my past life.
She still looked anxious and worried as she asked, “What should I do when I meet my master?”
“You should demand an apology for what happened. A proper one.”
“Will it make a difference?”
I nodded firmly. “It will.”
Whether you speak up or not, whether you receive an apology or not, it makes a big difference.
“Do you think he’ll apologize?”
“We’ll find out when we meet him.”
Of course, the purpose of getting her an apology is to help heal her wounds. Meanwhile, I plan to investigate him. If he’s guilty of other crimes deserving death, I’ll make him apologize to her and then deal with him myself. If he’s just a pathetic old man, he’ll fade away on his own.
“I’ll arrange the meeting with your master. Is that okay?”
She nodded.
“But there’s something we need to do first.”
“What?”
“Shall we step outside?”
I led her out of the inn and into the forest behind it, walking as if on a leisurely stroll.
Once I confirmed we were alone, I drew my sword.
“What are you doing?”
“Let’s have a spar.”
“What?”
She looked at me in surprise. “You want to beat me up again?”
I laughed. “No, it’s not like that.”
“It’s not funny.”
“I’m sorry. I really am sorry about that time.”
At that moment, a playful glint flickered across her face, revealing a side of her I hadn’t seen before. It felt like a barrier between us had crumbled, allowing me to glimpse a new facet of her personality.
“Why do you want to spar?” I asked.
“Because I need to perfect the counter-technique before meeting your master.”
She looked at me, clearly puzzled as to why this was necessary. But then, realization dawned on her, and her eyes widened in surprise.
“Wait, are you serious?”
“Yes, I’m going to defeat him using the skills he taught you.”
“That’s impossible!”
“It’s not!”
“But how?”
“Have you forgotten? There’s a critical weakness in the techniques you learned. We’re going to exploit that in the spar.”
“Oh!”
I doubted her master would ever truly apologize, and even if he did, I wasn’t convinced it would free her from the past. To truly break free, she needed to surpass him in martial arts—she needed to defeat him herself. Only then could she truly move on.
“What I’m about to say might hurt, but I need you to hear it,” I said gently.
She nodded, a hint of tension in her expression.
“After the spar with your master, you need to abandon the martial arts you’ve learned.”
“What?” Her shock was palpable.
“How could a technique with a known counter be perfect in the first place?”
“But—”
“You’ve spent five years learning it, and now you have to let it go.”
My tone was firm.
“During those five years, I’m sure the Song family sent a lot of money to your school.”
It was a common practice for renowned martial arts schools to train students from wealthy families, both for potential future use and financial gain—a win-win situation.
“The martial arts you learned, they’re not unique to the Ho Yeon family, are they?”
She nodded again, reluctantly.
“Your skills aren’t worth dedicating your life to. They taught you something that sounds impressive but isn’t truly valuable. Sure, if you want to keep fighting nameless second-rate fighters, go ahead.”
Of course, this was my perspective. From her father’s or Song Woo-kyung’s viewpoint, her skills might seem quite respectable. They were good enough to be taught under the Ho Yeon family name, after all.
But now that I was involved, I wanted her to let go of those skills.
Song Hwa-rin’s expression hardened. She must have felt like I was dismissing her past. Finally, she spoke, her voice strained.
“Thinking about my master makes me so upset and angry. Yes, I want to abandon the skills he taught me. But if I do, it feels like I’ve wasted the last five years.”
“If you can’t let go, those five years will turn into ten, twenty… a lifetime.”
The painful truth must have felt like a dagger to her heart.
“Fine, let’s say I let go. What do I do then?”
“Decide. Are you going to let go or not?”
After a brief pause, she replied, “Yes, I’ll let go.”
She was placing her trust entirely in me now. I had to honor that trust.
“When you truly let go, you’ll find something new. And what you gain will be far more remarkable than what you had before.”
I knew of a martial art that was perfect for her, far superior to what she had learned.
She still seemed uncertain, which was understandable. Despite the changes and trust she’d shown recently, she probably couldn’t believe I was more skilled than her master.
“Rin.”
“Yes?”
I realized there was no need for many words. So I said just one thing.
“Trust me.”
She looked at me intently, then nodded with determination.
“Alright, I will.”