The pavilion was deceptively elegant—curved rooftops lined with pearl inlay, soft curtains whispering against polished floors, and the faint scent of magnolia threading through the air. But beneath the calm shimmer of the Falling Blossom Pavilion, the tension was thick enough to catch a blade mid-swing.
Baek Sun-Ho stood at the center of the grand hall, unmasked, his presence deliberate. Flanked by So-Ri and Ji-Mun, he bore himself not as a challenger, but as someone ready to be challenged. The elders of the Falling Blossom Sect lined the walls like lacquered statues. Their expressions were composed, yet their eyes shimmered with quiet scrutiny.
Across from him sat Jin Ye-Hwa.
She wore silver and rose silk, her hair tied in elegant waves, a single plum blossom tucked behind her ear. Her sword, slender and pristine, rested beside a porcelain teacup. She hadn't touched either.
"You came without the mask," she said, voice as smooth as snowfall.
Sun-Ho inclined his head. "I didn't want our first real conversation to be a performance."
"How noble," Ye-Hwa murmured. "And naïve. In Murim, performance is everything."
Ji-Mun elbowed him gently. "Told you to wear the mask. It's good for morale."
Ye-Hwa's eyes flicked to Ji-Mun, amused. "Your companion is bold."
"He's annoying," So-Ri said flatly.
"I heard you bested Seo Ji-Wan," Ye-Hwa continued, ignoring them. "With lightning, no less. How very… theatrical."
"Practical," Sun-Ho replied. "She needed to know where we stood."
"And where do you stand?"
He stepped forward, careful not to spark too much tension. "I stand for Murim's future. One that isn't shaped by ghosts clinging to old rules."
Ye-Hwa arched a brow. "And yet you seek a throne made by those ghosts."
"I seek to break the cycle. Lead—not as their heir, but as the beginning of something cleaner."
She stared at him in silence, then slowly rose. Her steps toward him were slow, deliberate. "You speak of revolution," she said. "But Murim bleeds slowly. It hates sharp change."
"Then I'll bleed first," Sun-Ho said calmly. "Until others follow."
A long pause.
Then Ye-Hwa smiled faintly. "I like ambition that tastes like steel. But I'll warn you—if I decide you're too dangerous, I'll bury you in rose petals. Elegantly."
Sun-Ho nodded. "That's fair. I'd do the same."
---
Outside the Pavilion
Ma-Rok paced near the base of a magnolia tree, hammer resting across his back like a lazy thundercloud. "Why does talking take so long?"
Yul-Rin was perched on a rock, whittling a tiny dart. "Because not everything can be solved by smashing things."
"False."
Yeon crouched by a koi pond nearby, feeding fish with single grains of rice. He held up a sign: Do not smash koi.
Ma-Rok muttered, "Even the mute one mocks me."
From the top of the pavilion's gate, Master Jang sipped tea and watched birds fly across the sky. "Negotiations in Murim are like tea ceremonies. Graceful… but poisoned if you rush them."
"Then I'll pretend to be graceful," Ma-Rok grunted. "Until someone needs smashing."
---
Later – After the Meeting
Sun-Ho stepped out into the courtyard. The others turned, expectant.
"Well?" Ma-Rok asked.
"She's not hostile," Sun-Ho said. "Not yet. She's watching. Waiting."
"For what?" Ji-Mun asked.
"For me to falter. Or give her a reason to strike."
So-Ri looked to the distant hilltops. "Then let's not give her either."
He nodded.
Yul-Rin glanced sideways. "We won't be the only ones she's watching."
"No," Sun-Ho said. "She'll test the others, too. And soon."
---
That Night – Campfire Ridge
The party gathered around their firepit as the stars blinked awake in the darkening sky. Ji-Mun stirred his infamous stew, claiming it had 'heroic effects.'
Yeon, mercifully, passed around toasted buns and dried berries instead.
Sun-Ho sat slightly apart, gaze on the stars. So-Ri joined him, setting her tea cup between them.
"You're quiet."
He nodded. "It's… getting closer. I feel the pressure behind every moment now."
She said nothing for a while, then looked to the sky with him. "Even so, you're not alone this time."
He smiled faintly. "I know."
Behind them, Ji-Mun yelped as Ma-Rok took an overly large sip of stew and pretended to die on the spot. Yul-Rin was already preparing an antidote, muttering curses.
"Family," So-Ri said, smirking.
Sun-Ho nodded. "The kind that gives you heartburn and saves your life at the same time."
Thunder rumbled distantly.
---
End of Chapter 81 – Coals Beneath the Blossom Veil