Chapter 148: Dan Seol-yeong
Dan Seol-yeong had spent enough time with Hwa Yeon-sinni recently that she was familiar with her face and had shared quite a few conversations.
However, if she were to assess their relationship objectively, they weren’t close enough to confide in each other about personal troubles.
For starters, there was an age gap of over a hundred years, and their life paths had never intersected.
Dan Seol-yeong hesitated before responding.
“Troubles? I can’t say I have any, really.”
Hwa Yeon-sinni stepped closer to her.
“There’s no need to lie to me. Do you think I haven’t seen others with the same worries as you?”
Though Hwa Yeon-sinni was only as tall as Dan Seol-yeong’s chin or nose, her presence was as imposing as a mountain. While Dan Seol-yeong was taken aback, Hwa Yeon-sinni continued.
“You’re troubled because there’s no progress with Dang Mu-jin, right?”
It was a precise observation.
Yet, Dan Seol-yeong couldn’t bring herself to ask for help. In matters like these, she was certain Hwa Yeon-sinni wouldn’t be much help.
Dan Seol-yeong hadn’t had a romantic partner in over twenty years, but Hwa Yeon-sinni, a former nun, had never been with a man in over a century.
If she wanted to be a credible advisor, she should have had some experience with relationships after leaving the temple.
But even after fifty years since leaving, Hwa Yeon-sinni had only ever thrust a sword into a man’s body, never held a man’s hand.
In short, Hwa Yeon-sinni’s advice on romance was laughable. It seemed more realistic for Dan Seol-yeong to counsel Hwa Yeon-sinni instead.
Dan Seol-yeong waved her hand dismissively.
“It’s fine. Dang Mu-jin is just a bit slow, but things will progress soon.”
Hwa Yeon-sinni’s eyes narrowed.
“No, that’s not it. You’re misunderstanding the problem.”
“The problem?”
“Yes. Dang Mu-jin isn’t slow.”
“How can you say that? If you knew what happened today, you’d definitely…”
Of course, Hwa Yeon-sinni was well aware of what had transpired at the temple. She had followed them discreetly.
Feigning ignorance, she continued.
“If Dang Mu-jin were truly slow, he wouldn’t have noticed your feelings. But he knows. He understands your heart, so he’s not slow. Even if he were, knowing your feelings makes it a non-issue. Isn’t that right?”
Dan Seol-yeong stopped in her tracks as if struck by lightning. Hwa Yeon-sinni’s analysis was remarkably clear and accurate.
She had completely misjudged the problem, leading to incorrect solutions.
It was like massaging her knee, hoping the pain in her shoulder would disappear.
In a daze, Dan Seol-yeong asked,
“Then, what’s the problem?”
“He’s afraid. Dang Mu-jin is scared.”
“That’s not true. Mu-jin is brave. He’s not the type to back down easily, and he fights well when needed.”
Hwa Yeon-sinni clicked her tongue.
“The courage a man shows before a woman is different from that of a warrior. Even the bravest warrior can be a coward in matters of the heart, while a seemingly weak man can be bold in love. A man who can decapitate an enemy without hesitation might fret over leaving a small scar on the heart of the woman he loves.”
Dan Seol-yeong’s eyes widened. Just as Hwa Yeon-sinni described, Dang Mu-jin was overly cautious around her.
While holding hands or sneaking a hug away from prying eyes was easy, taking things further was not.
“So, what should I do?”
“Express your feelings openly, so Dang Mu-jin can muster the courage. Show him that you won’t be hurt or scared by his boldness.”
It was sound advice, but Dan Seol-yeong couldn’t easily think of a way to implement it.
She couldn’t just whisper something direct and embarrassing to Dang Mu-jin.
“Is there a good way to do that?”
“Sit down. I’ll share some tried-and-true methods passed down through the ages.”
Hwa Yeon-sinni spoke with confidence.
The next evening, Dang Mu-jin went about his day as usual and sat on the small porch of the annex.
He intended to enjoy the spring breeze before it turned stifling with time.
Just then, Dan Seol-yeong approached him with a confident stride.
Dang Mu-jin looked at her intently. Did she have something to say?
But Dan Seol-yeong did something unexpected. She recited a poem out of the blue.
Waiting for the moon, I step out to the western corridor, (待月西廂下)
Opening the door to catch the breeze. (近風戶半開)
The shadow of flowers brushing the wall, (拂牆花影動).
Could it be my beloved arriving? (疑是玉人來)
…Why suddenly?
He understood it was a love poem, but its exact meaning and Dan Seol-yeong’s purpose in reciting it were unclear.
However, it was clear he needed to respond, so Dang Mu-jin nodded and said,
“That’s a beautiful poem.”
When he replied, Dan Seol-yeong looked at him intently.
But Dang Mu-jin had no idea what she wanted.
Disappointed, Dan Seol-yeong turned away, leaving Dang Mu-jin puzzled as he watched her retreating figure.
The next day, and the day after that, Dan Seol-yeong recited a poem to Dang Mu-jin each day. But it seemed to have no effect.
Late at night, Dan Seol-yeong sat across from Hwa Yeon-sinni, her face full of disappointment.
“I told you it wouldn’t work. What’s the point of reciting poems?”
“That can’t be right…”
Hwa Yeon-sinni recalled the romance novels she had read.
In those stories, relationships often involved a back-and-forth of testing each other’s feelings, culminating in one person reciting a heartfelt poem at the right moment.
Though the aftermath was often glossed over, the moment of reciting a poem never failed when both parties had feelings for each other. According to Hwa Yeon-sinni’s expectations, Dan Seol-yeong and Dang Mu-jin should be cozily sharing a blanket in the annex by now.
As Dan Seol-yeong stood up in frustration, Hwa Yeon-sinni grabbed her sleeve.
“Let me teach you another poem. It’s from the ‘Romance of the Southern Magistrate,’ and it should work this time.”
“It’s not about the poem’s content.”
When Dan Seol-yeong firmly refused, Hwa Yeon-sinni desperately racked her brain for another solution.
“Then, how about embroidering a pair of mandarin ducks on silk? There’s still time, and with seven days of effort, you could create a beautiful piece.”
But Dan Seol-yeong’s sharp gaze remained unchanged.
First poems, now embroidery. Trusting Hwa Yeon-sinni to be helpful was the real mistake.
“Embroidery won’t mean anything either. I’m sure of it.”
“Bah! Do you know how many novels I’ve read and how many courtesans I know? Trust me.”
Dan Seol-yeong finally realized the problem. Following the plots of novels or the tales of courtesans wouldn’t lead to progress.
While the courtesans’ stories might be slightly more reliable than novels, they wouldn’t have shared their intimate experiences with Hwa Yeon-sinni in detail.
They likely spoke in roundabout ways, mentioning poems and embroidery.
The diagnosis was accurate, but the methods were lacking.
As Dan Seol-yeong stood up to devise a new plan, a low voice interrupted her.
“I think I can offer a solution.”
Startled, Dan Seol-yeong turned to see Sam An-bul.
But her expression grew even more displeased.
Why were both people offering help former monks?
Dan Seol-yeong thought to herself. At this rate, she might as well go to the village well tomorrow and ask the local women for advice.
Sam An-bul chuckled at her expression.
“You don’t trust me, do you? But try following my advice tomorrow. I’m sure there will be significant progress.”
Unlike Hwa Yeon-sinni’s lengthy explanations, Sam An-bul’s voice was simple and confident.
Dan Seol-yeong decided to give it one more try and nodded.
The next late afternoon, while Dang Mu-jin was training with Sam An-bul as usual, Dan Seol-yeong approached them.
Sam An-bul asked her,
“Miss Dan, what brings you here?”
“I was hoping you could teach me how to fight.”
“Why the sudden interest in fighting?”
“Even just learning some basic self-defense techniques would be incredibly useful.”
“If that’s the case, sure. Just sit tight for a bit. I’ll finish training Dang Mu-jin first, then teach you.”
Sam An-bul readily agreed and continued sparring with Dang Mu-jin.
Today’s training was rougher than usual, leaving Dang Mu-jin with quite a few injuries.
He had bruises, scrapes from rolling on the ground, and even a light cut from a glancing blow. He was in a state that could only be described as battered.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Sam Anbul finally concluded his sparring session with Dang Mujin and called for Dan Seolyeong.
“I hear you’ve mastered the basics of body movement techniques. It might be better to start with footwork for evasion rather than sword or fist techniques. Any objections?”
“No, that sounds good.”
Sam Anbul demonstrated a simple footwork technique to Dan Seolyeong. Since it aligned with the movement techniques she had already learned, she was able to mimic his demonstration with ease.
“Excellent. Shall we try it for real?”
“Yes.”
Sam Anbul threw a slow punch towards Dan Seolyeong. It was devoid of any real threat, perfectly suited to her level.
Dan Seolyeong dodged a few of his punches effortlessly. However, as his attacks continued, her movements became restricted, and eventually, her stance faltered.
This was a common occurrence when a master trained someone for an entire day.
Most would have signaled to stop at a reasonable point, but Dan Seolyeong was not accustomed to such training.
She tried to evade Sam Anbul’s punches until the very end, but finally, her legs tangled, and she stumbled backward, landing on the ground with a thud.
Thud. Her back scraped against the rough floor, and red droplets began to stain her white clothes.
“Oh dear!”
Dang Jeseon, who had been watching from the porch, jumped up and rushed over.
“Mujin, why are you just standing there? Go get the wound ointment!”
The ointment was a costly remedy for treating skin injuries, but Dang Jeseon, who cherished Dan Seolyeong dearly, didn’t care about the expense.
Dang Mujin sprang to his feet and dashed to the medical room, quickly returning with the ointment.
In the meantime, Sam Anbul and Dang Jeseon were giving Dan Seolyeong something to drink.
“What is that?”
“Jian Nan Zhi Shao Chun.”
Jian Nan Zhi Shao Chun was a famous liquor from Sichuan. Unlike other spirits, it was incredibly strong, helping patients forget their pain.
Dan Seolyeong drank it all without hesitation, and Dang Jeseon poured a little more, offering it to Dang Mujin.
“You seem to have gotten quite a few bruises today. You should have a drink too.”
Dang Mujin accepted the cup without protest. He had always wanted to try the expensive liquor, and refusing his father’s offer in front of Sam Anbul and Dan Seolyeong didn’t seem right.
Though it wasn’t much, the warmth spread to his fingertips and toes as a slight buzz set in.
Once Dang Mujin finished his drink, Dang Jeseon returned to his seat.
Sam Anbul clapped his hands lightly and spoke.
“That’s it for today’s training. We’ll continue tomorrow.”
“Understood.”
Dang Mujin replied and then hesitated as he handed the ointment to Dan Seolyeong.
Injuries from training usually appeared on the shoulders, sides, or arms, making them easy to treat. But Dan Seolyeong’s injury was on her back, a difficult spot to reach alone.
‘Someone will have to apply it for her…’
Among the people staying at the Dang family clinic, only Dan Seolyeong and Mok Wana were women. But Mok Wana had gone out after lunch and hadn’t returned yet.
“Father, do you know when Mok Wana will be back?”
“I sent her on an errand, so she won’t be back until tomorrow.”
“Hmm. I see.”
Waiting for Mok Wana wasn’t an option, nor could he entrust this task to someone else. The thought of another person touching Dan Seolyeong’s skin made him uncomfortable.
‘Looks like I’ll have to do it myself.’
Dang Mujin led Dan Seolyeong to a separate room and closed the door firmly.
“Lie down.”
Dan Seolyeong complied without question.
Dang Mujin dipped his fingers into the ointment and carefully slipped his hand under her shirt to apply it.
“Here?”
“A bit higher… No, to the left?”
“Here?”
“Is it there…? Ouch! Gently!”
Applying ointment without seeing the wound was no easy task. Though the injury wasn’t deep, it was wide and required careful attention.
As Dang Mujin struggled, Dan Seolyeong, seemingly frustrated, lifted the hem of her shirt slightly.
“Can you see better now?”
”…Yeah.”
Half of Dan Seolyeong’s back was exposed. Unlike her tanned arms and face, her back was pale, creating a striking contrast with the red wound.
Before he knew it, Dang Mujin’s face was as flushed as her injury.
He squinted and applied the ointment to her back. Though his goal was to treat the wound, he found himself more aware of the soft feel of her skin against his fingers and wrist than the ointment on his index finger.
When he had held her hand earlier, he had thought her skin was unusually soft, but her back was even more so. Softer than the finest silk.
Her smooth, white back, the slight buzz from the liquor, and a pleasant scent from somewhere made it hard for Dang Mujin to keep his composure. His heart pounded.
“Are you done?”
“Uh… almost.”
It was a lie. He had finished applying the ointment.
But he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. He continued to spread the ointment lightly over uninjured areas.
After nearly covering her entire back, he finally managed to pull his hand away, though his heart was heavy with reluctance.
Just as his fingers left her skin, Dan Seolyeong reached back and caught his hand.
She turned her head to look at him, her clothes still disheveled, her hair tousled from rolling on the ground. Yet, to Dang Mujin, she seemed more beautiful than ever.
“You got hurt too, didn’t you? Should I apply some ointment for you this time?”
Dang Mujin couldn’t shake off her slender fingers.
”…Okay.”
He nodded, as if in a trance.