The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel-Chapter 273: Fake - 4

“Why on earth did things turn out like thiiiiiis?!”

Zhegall-hyang clutched her head, having ended up in a situation she never wanted.

Was she being punished for running away from the fate she had to face—just like in the novels?

Passive in all things, utterly hopeless at conversation.

She had always thought it was fine to avoid talking to others and just stay at home, but now that she was of age, there was something she could no longer avoid.

“I don’t even have any friends my age. A blind date right away is way too hard for meeeee. Hrk...”

Suddenly being told to get married.

Mom, shouldn’t you first check whether your daughter is even capable of talking to a man? Not every woman is a heroine like you, you know.

Even if Zhegall-hyang complained inside, it was no use. No, if she had complained out loud, it would have been a disaster.

She shut her eyes tightly, imagining her mother unleashing a lion’s roar despite not having studied at Shaolin Temple.

“Even if I go on a blind date, they’ll all be disappointed...”

The Zhegall Clan, the most renowned martial family in Hubei Province. There was no doubt the suitors also had expectations for her.

A lifelong partner. A proper wife. A woman who would support them. No one would want someone who looked like a broken wooden doll or a pretty but useless ornament.

Zhegall-hyang imagined the dreadful scene of her own future blind date.

Surely the other party would be a scion of a prestigious family fitting to meet someone from the Zhegall Clan. And without exception, they’d all have plenty of experience with women.

And because she was a daughter of the Zhegall Clan, they’d show up to the date full of expectation.

‘Ah, um, I...’

But she would just fumble and fail to answer any of the man’s questions.

‘How boring. How could I possibly spend my whole life with a woman like this? Even if she’s from the Zhegall Clan, what’s no good is still no good.’

Zhegall-hyang imagined the suitor clicking his tongue and storming out of the blind date.

“AaaaAAAAAAAH!”

Just imagining it made her feel like her heart was being torn into a thousand, ten thousand pieces. It was clearly a situation far too painful for her to endure.

“No way anyone would like a boring woman like me...”

Zhegall-hyang tried to suppress the sting she’d just inflicted on her own heart, muttering in a deflated voice.

Even if she did get married, she’d be discarded soon enough. A man who married her just for her family name would surely bring in a concubine right away.

It was too early for her to be doing blind dates. At least ten years too early. No, might as well say fifty years too early. Zhegall-hyang wanted to insist on that, but her mother was far too adamant.

What should she do?

In the end, Zhegall-hyang chose to run away. Not that someone like her could actually run away, but wasn’t going to her maternal grandfather’s house kind of like running away?

But who would’ve thought that even coming to her grandfather’s house to escape the blind date would turn out to be her mother’s trap?

Thanks to that, she had to stage another escape, in a place as unfamiliar as her grandfather’s home. When someone accidentally broke the formation that dispersed attention, she truly feared she might be caught right then and there.

“Thank you, nameless noble sir.”

It was lucky that the good-voiced noble sir had let her off. Zhegall-hyang silently wished happiness upon the noble sir whose face she didn’t know, but whose voice she liked.

But the escape was short-lived.

Zhegall-hyang carefully approached the window and looked outside. It was practically no different from being imprisoned.

She let out a small sigh and began recalling what had happened since she arrived here.

------------------

“This can’t be—! Isn’t this Hyang?!”

The real problem had started when she chose her aunt’s house in Wuchang as her next runaway destination.

No, thinking back, the problem might have started the moment she decided to run away.

“Ah, a-ah, hello.”

It was an aunt she had often seen whenever she visited Wuchang. One of the few relatives Zhegall-hyang could speak to without her usual shyness.

“It’s been a while.”

It wasn’t her cousin.

“Don’t just stand there—come inside.”

When Zhegall-hyang awkwardly greeted her aunt and the cousin, the two of them welcomed her warmly.

“What brings you to Wuchang?”

“......”

I ran away from a blind date.

Zhegall-hyang couldn’t bring herself to say it and bowed # Nоvеlight # her head. Thanks to that, she didn’t see her aunt’s expression that said this girl again...

“Come to think of it, Hyang, aren’t you about the age to get married now? So? Got a fiancé yet?”

“Ah, um, well... I have something I need to do first.”

Why do adults always go straight for the most painful topic when you haven’t seen them in a while? Honestly, I don’t even have any friends, let alone a fiancé.

Zhegall-hyang gave a vague answer in place of what she couldn’t say.

“Something to do? Ah! The Zhegall Clan does put off engagements for talented kids. You used to be good at painting and calligraphy when you were little, right? Still good at bamboo or plum blossoms and the like? Or poetry?”

“Ah, yes.”

I’m sorry. I, who have gone astray, have been drawing unspeakable scenes from the novels I’ve enjoyed. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

“Your sister was famous as a poet, right? Are you doing something similar, like submitting work to literary circles and making a name for yourself?”

“I-I-I'm doing something like that anonymously...”

She would send letters with drawings and thoughts enclosed to her favorite author anonymously. She even received a thank-you letter not long ago.

Since it was anonymous, she barely received it through the escort bureau that had delivered the letter, but just thinking about it made her lips curl upward.

A thank-you letter received after countless letters sent.

Zhegall-hyang had placed it in a locked safe to treasure it forever.

“Then could you show it to me?”

Haven’t we talked enough about recent affairs? I’m happy to see you, Auntie, but I’d like to be shown to my room now. I’m at my limit.

Just as Zhegall-hyang was thinking that, a bomb dropped on her.

“Huh?!”

“It’s probably in your luggage, isn’t it? Show it to your aunt.”

“A-ah, th-th-that’s...”

If I show that, I’m not just unfit for marriage, I might as well kiss my whole life goodbye. Zhegall-hyang couldn’t say that out loud.

“Is it something you can’t show me?”

Zhegall-hyang shrank back at the blatant disappointment in her aunt’s expression.

“Here...”

Refusing outright was too difficult for Zhegall-hyang, who had catastrophic communication skills. But even so, she couldn’t hand over her sketchbook filled with drawings that would ruin her life.

After much deliberation, what she finally pulled from her bag was a neatly transcribed piece of writing.

With plenty of time on her hands from staying home all the time, she had copied her favorite scenes from a novel in order to illustrate them properly.

This should be okay. She had only transcribed the cool scenes, after all. It wouldn’t end her life.

“This is Storm of the Tang Clan!?”

Her choice wasn’t necessarily a bad one.

The unfortunate truth was that the person sitting beside them was none other than Heo Song, who had recently opened a struggling bookstore.

“Storm of the Tang Clan? That’s the novel you wanted to publish, right? Hold on! Hyang, didn’t you say you were doing something anonymously?! No way?! So Hyang’s real identity is Ho-pil?!”

Her aunt stared at Zhegall-hyang, eyes wide.

“Huh? No, that’s not—”

“Ho-pil... Right. You chose that pen name because of your silver hair!”

Silver hair, a color common among foreigners. It wasn’t discriminated against like black hair, but still... enough to justify a pen name like Ho-pil.

Heo Song had a face as if he’d been enlightened.

“My boy’s got good instincts! Of course. If a daughter of the Zhegall Clan is writing Colorful Chivalry, of course she’d want to hide her identity!”

“Th-th-that’s not what this is!”

“What do you mean ‘it’s not’? Auntie knows everything! You’re just embarrassed because a woman is writing Colorful Chivalry, right? But no matter how embarrassed you are, you shouldn’t hide something like that from your family!”

“Then is this the manuscript of Storm of the Tang Clan?! Mother!”

Zhegall-hyang could only widen her eyes at the sight of Heo Song holding the handwritten copy of Storm of the Tang Clan she’d made, as he called out to her mother like he had just seized the perfect opportunity.

What kind of ridiculous misunderstanding was this?

She had to clear it up.

“Songa! Look at this! There really is no such thing as a dead end in life. Hyang! Won’t you help your auntie?”

But before she could deny it again, her aunt grabbed her hand.

“Huh?”

“You like staying home, don’t you? Just relax at Auntie’s house for a while. Your cousin and I will take care of the rest.”

“No, I, really, it’s not true...”

“Mm. Sure. I know it’s not true. I’ll tell everyone else it’s not true, okay?”

“I’ll keep your secret too.”

“N-no, that’s not what I meant...”

Zhegall-hyang tried her best to deny it, but it was hopeless.

The identity of the author Ho-pil, hidden behind a pen name—combined with the fact that she was the daughter of the Zhegall Clan and her absolutely hopeless conversation skills—made it impossible to dispel the misunderstanding.

In the end, things escalated far beyond anything Zhegall-hyang could fix.

------------------

“What should I doooo? Why won’t they believe meee?”

Honestly, it wasn’t even Zhegall-hyang’s fault, who now sat crumpling her beautiful face in frustration. Anyone else probably would have believed her.

People only believe what they want to believe in the face of greed.

The Ten-Thousand Gold Merchant Guild’s successor selection exam. A failing bookstore that defied all expectations. The arrival of Storm of the Tang Clan and the author Ho-pil who could turn it around.

No matter how much she told those two—mother and son—they wouldn’t believe her. The stakes involved with the Ten-Thousand Gold Merchant Guild were simply too high.

“Miss Hyang, don’t you think you talk to yourself a little too much?”

“She’s the author Ho-pil, isn’t she? They say those types tend to talk to themselves a lot.”

Zhegall-hyang could hear the attendants murmuring outside the door.

“N-nooo. It’s just that, since I’m alone, I don’t have to worry about what other people think, so I end up talking to myself a lot...”

She answered passively to the voices she heard outside. Of course, it would be bad if they actually heard her, so she mumbled just loud enough for only herself to hear. So very like her.

Had she done something wrong? How was she supposed to speak to people who didn’t believe her, even when she explained? Zhegall-hyang looked tearfully at the writing brush and ink in front of her.

“To cause this kind of trouble for Author Ho-pil...”

She had to send a letter of apology at once. Dipping her brush into ink, Zhegall-hyang paused to think.

How was she supposed to write something like this?

[Dear Author Ho-pil. Please come kill me.......]

No. Absolutely not.

What kind of face could she show after sending such a cursed letter? He might get so mentally shocked he’d end up writing one of those infamous essays at Daseogak about her.

It would be better to fix the situation first and then send a letter.

But—

“It’s not easyyyyy.”

Zhegall-hyang groaned, her face twisted into a wreck.

This was the successor selection test for the Ten-Thousand Gold Merchant Guild. If she said she wasn’t Ho-pil, didn’t that mean her cousin would fail the test?

That would be a disservice to Author Ho-pil. But could she really ruin her cousin’s life like that?

With her poor communication skills and introverted nature, Zhegall-hyang was in agony at being forced to make such a painful choice.

She furrowed her pretty brows again and again, thinking hard, until she finally reached a conclusion.

“I’ll order food first.”

To gather the courage to speak, she had to fill her stomach.

To make use of the latest technology, Zhegall-hyang pulled out the spirit-trained homing pigeon in the corner.

Delivery food using a homing pigeon.

Everything had been difficult since coming to Wuchang, but this—this was the one thing that was convenient. Who even came up with such an idea?

Back in the day, ordering from an inn was such a nightmare. Why did the world expect people with poor conversation skills to even order food verbally?

Now, she could decide on the menu in advance before entering the inn, and she didn’t even have to speak when the server came.

Once the delivery person arrived, all she had to say was, “Just leave it there.”

If she gave the exact amount with no change needed, no other conversation was necessary.

It was truly a modern convenience made for someone like Zhegall-hyang.

“Jjajangmyeon delivery! Fried dumplings included.”

The delivery person arrived as if they had been waiting.

“Huh?”

She only ordered jjajangmyeon.

Something unexpected had happened. What should she say? She only sent money for the noodles.

Should she say she didn’t order dumplings? No—what if she accidentally had ordered them? What if she said she did? Then should she eat the dumplings? She wasn’t that hungry. But the delivery man had gone through the trouble...

Zhegall-hyang’s conversation anxiety was already starting to flare at the unforeseen situation.

The man smiled as he spoke.

“The dumplings are a service for close friends.”

“Huh?”

That voice... she had heard it somewhere before.

“What a shame. To not even recognize the voice of your close friend.”

The man removed the bamboo hat covering most of his face and hair right in front of her.

A black-haired man? No. It was hopeless. He was too handsome to look at directly.

“Ah, um, who—who are you...”

I don’t have any friends, though.

This was the worst. The man had clearly mistaken her for someone else. He radiated that terrifyingly friendly energy that kept pressing forward even if you tried to step back.

Zhegall-hyang avoided his gaze and finally managed to squeeze out a question.

“Incredible. The great Ho-pil doesn’t recognize the face of their one and only close friend.”

Ho-pil?

Close friend?

Black hair?

“Ah!”

The man who brought Storm of the Tang Clan into the world. The good friend who risked his life for Ho-pil. The manager of Daseogak.

A single name flashed through Zhegall-hyang’s mind.

Kang Yun-ho looked her straight in the eye, and the moment their gazes met, he smiled like a hunter who had just cornered a trapped prey—the frozen fake Ho-pil, Zhegall-hyang.

“So you recognize me now. Greetings, Ho-pil. I’m Kang Yun-ho of Daseogak.”