Page 6 of Gumiho Kiss (Realm of Eternal Blossoms #1)

The Liar

T he streets of Sokju teemed with people as merchants proudly displayed their wares to passersby.

One could buy almost anything at the market stalls, from hats to sweet potatoes to wine.

Some of the wealthier establishments had separate buildings to purchase goods and services at, such as the bookstore and clothing shops.

Most of the pedestrians were commoners in white cotton robes, but a few nobles eyed the expensive fabrics and jewelry.

Their bright silk hanbok made them stand out like butterflies in a cloud-filled sky.

Chin Sun perused the various hairpins and fans with a practiced ease, but she was painfully aware of the presence shadowing her steps. Ah In normally accompanied her to the market, but she’d dismissed her young servant since Mr. Park could help carry anything she purchased.

She already regretted that decision.

Chin Sun cast a sharp glance behind her. Mr. Park’s attention was on a pair of commoners chatting together, and there was a good amount of space between them. Hmm, perhaps she should find out just how skilled he was.

A trio of gisaengs, female entertainers owned by the state, stood just in front of her, giggling as they ogled Mr. Park.

Their brightly colored hats and clothing reminded Chin Sun of beautiful wildflowers, but she knew they were just as much slaves as those forced to live with yangban nobles.

They could be bought or sold on a whim, nothing more than property in the eyes of the highborn.

The Lees’ own servants were treated well, but they, too, were bound to the household, unable to leave without the Lees’ permission.

Such was the Joseon way, though it was a flawed system Chin Sun despised.

She stepped forward, placing the gisaengs between herself and Mr. Park, then veered to the right.

She dashed into the yard of a nearby inn that seemed to always be bursting with customers, no matter what time of day it was.

Guests huddled together in small groups, some on the ground but others on raised platforms, enjoying trays of steaming food and soju.

Female servants darted here and there like anxious rabbits, trying to keep even the most irritable guests satisfied.

Noise flooded Chin Sun’s hypersensitive ears: commoners complaining about taxes, drunkards laughing at the innkeeper’s threats to throw them out, meat sizzling in the kitchen.

She smiled. She couldn’t have picked a better place to lose someone.

Chin Sun weaved around the distracted patrons and disappeared out through the back, which deposited her on an empty side street. Most nobles avoided this part of town since it was a poorer area, but Chin Sun liked the straight route it provided to Mr. Han’s bookstore.

A quick check over her shoulder told her she’d lost Mr. Park. She smirked. Some bodyguard he’d turned out to be.

She slowed her pace, spirits lifting. If it was this easy to get rid of Mr. Park, she should have no trouble delivering a message to Kim Min Joon.

She and the young police inspector had been working together for months now, meeting up frequently to practice swordfighting and help each other with any problems they couldn’t deal with individually.

Min Joon’s connections were useful for opening doors Gwishin couldn’t, and while a police inspector was duty-bound to uphold the law, a vigilante was unencumbered.

Chin Sun’s eyes crinkled at the corners. She was grateful to have someone she could depend on, someone who knew her true identity. That hadn’t always been the case.

Though the two had been childhood friends, she and Min Joon had been separated for years when he’d gone to study in Ming, as many bright, young yangban did when they reached adulthood.

Chin Sun hadn’t even known he was back until he’d happened upon her a year ago while she was fighting a policeman on a market street and, mistaking her for an average criminal, had chased her all across the city.

They’d scaled buildings, darted down alleys, and even clashed swords a few times before Chin Sun had successfully escaped his grasp. Or so she’d thought.

She hadn’t expected him to track her into the woods and shoot her down.

The memory was amusing now. Min Joon had surprised her in many ways that night.

Though she’d tried to frighten him off by revealing her gumiho nature, he’d kept his wits about him, pinning her with his sword before forcing her to remove her mask.

The utter shock on his face would have been laughable, were the situation not so dire.

But instead of turning Chin Sun in, he’d demanded she explain herself. Not many would have believed her when she’d told him the officer she’d been fighting had stolen from a poor commoner family and she’d been trying to recover what they were owed.

But Kim Min Joon had. He’d even investigated the matter himself and seen to it that the family’s goods were returned.

After that, he’d tried to convince her to stop moonlighting as a vigilante, but she’d told him he could either help her or get out of her way.

That had been the start of Min Joon and Chin Sun’s alliance, though the relationship was more like that of siblings than colleagues.

Min Joon couldn’t help but act like an overprotective older brother, and Chin Sun couldn’t help but put herself in situations where she worried him to death.

The two had worked out a secret means to pass messages—by leaving a drawing of a fox tucked under a vase at the bookstore.

Depending on what the sketch looked like, it could mean the sender wished to meet in person, had information that would be left in a secure location, or had been found out by the authorities.

The fox Chin Sun carried indicated she had important information that she would leave in the abandoned hut at the edge of the woods.

Though she would have preferred speaking with Min Joon in person, she didn’t dare ask him to meet, not with this new bodyguard on her back.

She may have lost him for now, but she didn’t want to push her luck.

Once Min Joon knew everything she’d overheard at the magistrate’s office, he could leave another note for her, detailing what he thought they should do next.

She pulled a pouch of rice from one of her wide sleeves, hoping the bookstore wouldn’t be as crowded as the inn. Perhaps she’d also get Sang Mi that new romance novel she’d been asking for. That should cheer her up.

She also needed to buy some paper, and Uncle had asked her to pick out a new pipe for him as well.

Though the country had used a coin currency in the past when it had been called Goryeo, after King Taejo had overthrown the old dynasty and founded the Joseon nation, people had returned to their traditional bartering systems. Grain and cloth were most commonly used, and the white millet rice Chin Sun carried should be more than enough for what she needed.

Her destination was almost in view when a tall figure blocked her path.

* * *

“Did you hear what happened to Gwishin the other night at the magistrate’s office?” a low voice asked.

Hyun Soo froze, then swiveled to the right.

Two merchants stood behind their stalls on the opposite side of the street, oblivious to Hyun Soo’s scrutiny. One stall displayed several pairs of straw sandals, while the other sold baskets of various sizes. The men themselves were older, both with gray hair and beards, and one leaned upon a cane.

“Yeh,” the man with the cane replied, “no one has seen him since. You don’t think . . . ?”

The other man laughed and clapped his friend on the back. “The wound was only in his arm, Woo Tak-ah. Gwishin isn’t about to let something like that stop him. He’ll be back.”

Woo Tak grinned. “I hope you’re right. If not?—”

A police officer passed in front of their stalls, spear clasped in his right hand.

He glared at the merchants before tapping his spear against one of the public walls.

A handbill featuring a sketch of a man in black was plastered there.

A cowl covered the bottom half of the figure’s face, and his hair was pulled up in a topknot.

Beside the sketch was a notice, written in Hanja, classical Chinese.

The GANGWON PROVINCE POLICE BUREAU INSTRUCTS ANYONE WHO HAS INFORMATION REGARDING the IDENTITY or LOCATION of the REBEL KNOWN as GWISHIN to COME FORWARD. INFORMATION THAT RESULTS in the CAPTURE of THIS DANGEROUS CRIMINAL WILL BE GREATLY REWARDED.

“Gwishin is a criminal, not a hero, and if I hear you openly supporting him again, I will have you both tried as conspirators. Is that clear?” the officer sneered.

The merchants kowtowed, bodies trembling. “We apologize, sir. We meant nothing by it.”

“That better be true, but in case you’re prone to forgetfulness . . .” The policeman marched over and cracked both men across the back with his spear. The merchants groaned but stayed still, heads pressed into the dirt.

The policeman spat on the ground, then knocked down a few of the baskets as he turned away. “Parasites.”

Once the officer was gone, Hyun Soo hurried over and grabbed the shorter man’s cane.

“Are you all right?” he asked as the merchants pushed themselves to their feet.

The shorter man—Woo Tak, Hyun Soo thought his name was—stared at the proffered cane in confusion. “T-thank you, sir.” He bowed, then hesitantly took his cane, as if he feared Hyun Soo was about to strike him.

Hyun Soo wasn’t surprised at the man’s apprehension.

Most looked down upon merchants since they earned their wealth through trade rather than hard work.

But Confucianism called the highborn to display kindness toward those below them, and unlike some yangban, Hyun Soo took his moral responsibilities seriously.

“Ahjussi, why did that officer think you supported Gwishin?” he asked. “Do you happen to know?—”