“Amitabha. Were there no unexpected incidents on your way here?”

A monk of Shaolin Temple stepped forward as the one in charge to receive Seolhwa’s party.

Seolhwa and Yu Pyo returned the greeting with a martial salute.

“There were none. With Shaolin standing as firmly as this, who would dare run rampant on Songshan without fear?”

“Heh heh, it is only through the Buddha’s virtue.”

Outwardly, the exchange between Yu Pyo and the Shaolin monk appeared smooth and uneventful.

However, Seolhwa caught onto the strange current flowing between the two.

“Please, come in. The Abbot is awaiting your arrival.”

Yu Pyo stepped through the temple gate.

But just as Seolhwa moved to follow behind him—

“My apologies, but the benefactors of the Namgoong Clan may not pass beyond the gate.”

The Shaolin monk blocked Seolhwa’s path.

Yu Pyo turned back from inside and asked, “What is the meaning of this? We received prior permission from the Abbot himself.”

“The Abbot granted entry to Lady Namgoong alone. The remaining benefactors must return.”

“Return? What nonsense...!”

Namgoong Jipyeong, the Red Dragon Unit’s leader, flared up—but Seolhwa raised her hand to block him.

She looked directly at the Shaolin monk.

The monk, too, did not avert his gaze.

Yu Pyo stepped back out and asked the monk, “Whose will is this? Did the Abbot order it?”

The monk replied calmly, without a flicker of expression.

“Shaolin’s precepts make no exception for Abbots or benefactors. This is merely in accordance with the rule that during the period of seclusion, none who have not received express permission may cross the temple gate.”

The seclusion period.

A term referring to the time when Shaolin disciples devote themselves entirely to cultivation.

During this time, no incense or offerings are accepted, no one may enter the gate without permission, and loud noises are forbidden.

It was the very reason Shaolin, which should’ve been bustling with visitors, now stood so desolate.

“It was solely because the Sect Leader of Mount Hua requested it that Lady Namgoong was granted entry—a rare exception.”

“...”

Yu Pyo clenched his fists.

He had anticipated that Shaolin might treat the Namgoong Clan’s delegation coldly, but to pick a fight before they’d even set foot inside?

“So they’re saying, if you don’t like it, leave.”

But with Shaolin invoking its precepts, there was nothing Yu Pyo could do.

He turned to Seolhwa and gave a slight shake of his head, indicating there was no way around it.

Seolhwa let out a short sigh.

“Understood. I’ll send the warriors of the main house back down.”

“My lady!”

“We are simply grateful that the temple honors its own regulations.”

Seolhwa turned to the Red Dragon warriors.

Each of them looked at her with expressions of refusal, but there was no alternative.

“You all head down the mountain and stay in a nearby village. I’ll come find you once this matter is settled.”

“It’s dangerous for you to go alone, my lady. The Young Lord expressly ordered us never to leave your side!”

“Forgive me for the offense, but this temple is not some den of thieves.”

The Shaolin monk added dryly, prompting Namgoong Jipyeong to shoot him a sharp glare.

But the monk did not so much as blink.

When Seolhwa stepped between them and blocked Jipyeong’s line of sight, his fierce energy immediately faded.

“My lady...”

“Return and wait for my orders. That’s what you can do for me right now.”

Namgoong Jipyeong grit his teeth.

But knowing she had no choice, he could only accept it.

“...Understood. Please take care, my lady.”

“Don’t worry.”

The Red Dragon warriors turned and began to walk back the way they had come, eyes narrowed in hostility toward the Shaolin monk.

As she watched them leave, Seolhwa asked the monk, “Are we done now?”

“Amitabha.”

Only then did the Shaolin monk step aside to clear the path.

Without so much as a glance in his direction, Seolhwa crossed the temple threshold.

She had finally stepped into the tiger’s den.

****

“I’ve already informed them that the young lady requests an audience, so word should come soon.”

Not long after arriving at Shaolin, Yu Pyo informed Seolhwa of the letter the Mount Hua Sect Leader had sent with him.

Upon hearing that it must be delivered directly to the Abbot, the reply was a request for Yu Pyo alone to come to the Abbot’s chamber—saying he had matters to discuss.

It was essentially the same excuse No Un had planned to use, now turned back on them.

“They made all that noise at the gate, and now this. Seems they’ve made up their minds. Giving you this shabby room instead of a proper guest lodging despite having a whole Zhi ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) Ke Hall available...”

“So they let me in, but they’re making it clear they don’t intend to meet me.”

“...It appears that way.”

Seolhwa glanced around the room.

Shaolin, as a major orthodox sect, had dedicated guest accommodations.

Yet under the excuse of renovation, the room they gave her was a single, dilapidated chamber, no better than a hermit’s hut.

The kind of place monks might use for wall-facing meditation.

“Cozy and nice.”

“How about I switch with you? Even if I said it was my idea, not even these bald bastards could object.”

“You think so? I bet they’d come up with another excuse to stop you.”

“...Still...”

Even Yu Pyo was visibly uneasy with how they were being treated.

And indeed, it was worse than Seolhwa had imagined.

“It’s fine. Seems like they want me to leave on my own. But as you know, I wasn’t exactly raised pampered.”

Clearly, they were trying to make the environment unbearable so she’d leave on her own accord. But they’d picked the wrong target—Seolhwa was no pampered noble lady.

“This actually works in our favor. It means they don’t plan to kick us out outright.”

Trying to drive her out meant they couldn’t formally expel her.

As one of the great sects, Shaolin couldn’t openly throw out a guest they’d already permitted entry to.

So instead, they resorted to these underhanded tricks.

“If they couldn’t stand the sight of me, they shouldn’t have let me in at all.”

Now that it had come to this, Seolhwa saw an opportunity.

She’d only planned to stay a few days, but now they’d handed her a pretext to linger.

“While I’m here, I’ll uncover everything Shaolin’s been hiding.”

****

The next morning, the monk who brought her meal delivered the expected message.

“It appears an audience won’t be possible at the moment. You’ll be summoned when the Abbot has time, so please relax as if this were your own home.”

In other words, she was to wait until called—if ever.

A thinly veiled refusal.

But Seolhwa merely looked down at the tray of food with indifference.

“At least they’re feeding me.”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing. Please tell them I’ll wait.”

“Yes. I’ll relay the message.”

Seolhwa took the tray and entered her room.

But the monk at the door didn’t leave. He remained standing just outside.

Seolhwa, spoon halfway to her mouth, paused—then set her utensils down and opened the door again.

The monk looked at her as if wondering what the matter was.

“Why haven’t you left?”

“Pardon?”

“How long are you planning to stand there?”

“Ah.”

Looking sheepish, the monk scratched the back of his neck.

“I was ordered to attend to the benefactor. Since this lifestyle might be difficult for you, I was told to assist however I can.”

“Ah.”

As if Shaolin would ever provide such service. A monk waiting on a noble’s daughter? Impossible.

Especially here, where they didn’t even treat a member of a prestigious clan as a proper guest.

There was only one possible reason.

“So they’ve posted him to keep watch.”

“What is your dharma name?”

“Pardon?”

“We’ll be seeing each other often, it seems. I should at least know your name.”

“Ah! I didn’t introduce myself properly, did I?”

The monk bowed deeply once more.

“I am Hyeon, second disciple of Shaolin.”

“Namgoong Seolhwa. I look forward to your guidance, Monk Hyeon.”

Second disciple.

The second-generation disciples of Shaolin were generally just a little older than Seolhwa—though not by much.

Still, it was a small mercy they hadn’t assigned her a third-generation novice.

“I’d like to take a look around Shaolin after breakfast—would that be all right?”

“Ah, well...”

“Is that a problem?”

“There aren’t many places you can go. Since this is the seclusion period, many areas are restricted to outsiders by temple rules.”

“Would it be possible to see the Arhat Hall from afar? I’ve always wanted to witness the famed Eighteen Arhats of Shaolin.”

“Well... outsiders are usually not permitted near the Arhat Hall, but...”

“Then what about the Patriarch Hall? Since I’ve come all this way, it’s only right to pay respects to your temple’s forebears, no?”

The Patriarch Hall housed the remains and relics of Shaolin’s eminent ancestors.

She intended to use the visit as a pretext to observe her surroundings.

“Ah, even that area is currently closed off to disciples of the temple...”

Again, a refusal.

Apparently embarrassed to keep saying no, Hyeon awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

“If you assume that everything within the Inner Temple is off-limits...”

“Then where can I go?”

Brightening suddenly, Hyeon raised a finger.

“You’re welcome to visit the training hall in the Outer Temple!”

Seolhwa’s expression lit up instantly.

“Really?”

They were actually opening the training hall? The very place she’d thought would be most restricted?

“Yes. Since benefactors like yourself may train as well, it’s only proper you know where it is. You should go after breakfast.”

“All right. That sounds great.”

A smile finally tugged at Seolhwa’s lips.

She had wanted to see it more than anywhere else.

“Opening the training hall during seclusion, huh.”

Was it confidence? Arrogance?

Or was there another motive?

“I’ll find out soon enough.”

Whatever the reason, this was the training hall of Beoksung Shaolin—revered as the pinnacle of the martial world.

How could a martial artist’s heart not race?

With a flutter of anticipation, Seolhwa lifted her spoon.