I became the wind.

Where am I? I’d fallen asleep in an inn room, no doubt about that, yet when I opened my eyes, I was in a place that felt eerily familiar.

Why am I here? What is this place?

As I tried to recall, the thoughts slipped away like smoke, vanishing before they could form.

Before me was a table set with a feast. Dishes I’d never eaten before, a spread fit for royalty.

But how could I eat if I’m the wind? I didn’t even have time to question it—without my will, the wind danced between the plates, tasting every dish.

I was enjoying the food when a voice spoke from behind.

‘I want to see you again.’

‘I’ll live on.’

‘My lord......’

Who was it? Why was she crying? I wanted to turn around, to see, but the wind wouldn’t move.

‘My lord......’

Her voice was so full of sorrow, it shook even the wind’s heart. Anyone who heard her would be drawn to her, unable to stay away.

Who are you?

Who are you, with this voice so familiar? The wind tried to turn, to look.

“My lord......!”

A voice rang out.

You are—

“Young Master Kang!”

“Gah!”

What the—! I shot up at the cry right in my ear.

“It’s morning, sir. Time to eat.”

When I opened my eyes, it wasn’t an unfamiliar ceiling I saw, but a familiar face. Purple hair, green eyes. Tang Clan warrior, Dang-Pae, who’d been escorting me all the way to Yichang.

He was shaking me awake.

Wake me up gently, damn it. At least shout, “It’s morning, brother!” like a clingy little sister, not with physical assault.

“Did you have a nightmare?”

I must’ve looked out of it, because Dang-Pae asked with concern.

“A nightmare?”

“You kept changing expressions in your sleep. Looked like a bad dream.”

Did I have a nightmare?

I sat up, pressing my forehead, trying to recall the night.

Night. Food. And something else... I barely managed to hold onto the memory before it slipped away like smoke. That was all I could remember.

“I think... I dreamt I was eating a big feast.”

A table filled with every luxury imaginable. I don’t remember the details, but it felt like something out of a documentary about imperial Chinese cuisine—like a full Manchu-Han banquet.

There was something more important, I’m sure, but I can’t remember. It’s annoying.

“Haha. They say dreaming of eating your fill is a sign of wealth to come. The new year’s begun, the weather’s warming—surely a good omen for your business this year.”

“There’s a fortune for food dreams too, huh?”

“Yes, now get up, wash up, and let’s go have breakfast.”

“I dreamt about eating, so I’m not really hungry. You all go ahead.”

I’m sure I ate dinner early last night, but I don’t feel hungry. Maybe because I ate in my dream? My soul feels full. Or maybe I’m just not awake yet.

“Young Master Kang, even if we starve, we can’t let you skip a meal.”

Dang-Pae looked troubled. Maybe he’s worried about my health? Or maybe he knows if I tick off the Pavilion Head again, we’re both screwed.

“Alright, I’ll wash up and come out.”

I thought about refusing again, but dropped it.

I’ve been relying on Dang-Pae for over a month and a half. Arguing with him first thing in the morning is a pain, and I don’t want him pacing around outside my door.

“We’ll reach Yichang in about ten days. The dreams, the loss of appetite—it’s all just fatigue from the long journey. Bear with it a little longer.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“There’s a place here that sells food from the Eastern lands. Since you’re from Joseon, it might lift your spirits. Let’s have breakfast there, not at the inn. I’ll be waiting outside.”

Dang-Pae left the room with a bright [N O V E L I G H T] smile.

I could’ve just eaten here at the inn... Dang-Pae has every reason to resent me, but he volunteered to guard me himself. I can’t complain if he’s going out of his way.

I looked up at the ceiling for a moment.

What was that dream? It seemed like nothing, but it stuck with me. Maybe because it was my first dream of the new year.

“Felt like I had a similar dream last year too.”

Dreams are supposed to be shaped by your experiences. But when did trash like Kang Yun-ho ever sit at a table piled high with delicacies? Maybe it’s just the travel fatigue.

I shook off the lingering dream as I washed up and headed out.

---------

Kang Yun-ho, 22. The new year had come, and I was now in my second year in this world.

“Still chilly.”

Three more years and I could start making half-my-age jokes. As I stepped out of the inn, that stubborn winter wind, unwilling to give up its place to spring, brushed my cheek.

From the hill where the inn stood, I could see the Yangtze River. The morning mist, the clouds—it was like a painting. A first-timer would be awestruck.

But I was used to it, having lived in Yichang, a city by the river.

Right now, I was in a small city called Wushan. Just about two more weeks, and I’d reach Yichang.

The end of this month-and-a-half-long journey was finally in sight.

“Let’s go.”

Dang-Pae spotted me and led me to the restaurant.

Food from the Eastern lands, huh? A Joseon restaurant, probably? The inn sells pizza, gukbap, stir-fried pork—why bother with a separate Joseon place?

But when we arrived, it wasn’t what I expected.

A tent with foreign writing, sliding doors, round lanterns with characters on them. It felt familiar, but this was...

“I thought it was a Joseon restaurant, but it’s actually Japanese,” Dang-Pae said apologetically.

“That’s fine. I like Japanese food too.”

As long as it’s good, I don’t care. I stepped forward and opened the door to show I didn’t mind.

Inside, I locked eyes with a server dressed in traditional Japanese clothes.

“Irashaimase! Kochira e dozo.”

Uh? That foreign greeting froze our whole party.

Is this a theme restaurant? I figured it out fast, but the others didn’t.

Dang-Pae glanced at me, his eyes screaming, Should we leave? Did we walk into the wrong place?

No. This is just how it is. I casually followed the server and took a seat, and the others reluctantly followed.

Wooden ninja dolls, pirate figurines—yep, this place was the real deal, a proper Japanese restaurant.

“Young Master... do you speak their language?”

As I looked around, appreciating the decor, one of the guards asked nervously.

“Enough to get by. Why?”

“We’ll tell you what we want. Could you translate for us?”

Ah, that’s what it was? Yeah, makes sense. They’d freak out if they thought they had to speak a foreign language.

“Hey, server.”

“Yes!”

“We’ll have one tonkotsu ramen, one miso ramen, one special ramen.”

I placed their orders—not in Japanese, but in the local tongue.

“Sure thing! One tonkotsu, one miso, one special. What about the others?”

“...Wait, she speaks our language? She’s not Japanese?”

“Nope. I’m from here, so I speak the local language.”

She answered the flustered guards like they were talking nonsense.

“Then why speak Japanese when we came in?”

“I don’t know. The chef told me to.”

It’s the universal rule of Japanese restaurants.

“I can’t believe it. I thought this place was only for Japanese folks.”

“How would Japanese people even get here? Place your orders.”

“I’ll have shoyu ramen.”

“Same for me.”

They gave the server a dazed look before continuing to order.

“Young Master Kang, what will you have?”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

"Ramen in the morning, huh... not really feeling it."

I wasn’t even hungry. Eating ramen first thing in the morning? No thanks.

"Ah! Now that I get a better look at you, you’re from Joseon, aren’t you? We serve donburi too. Since you're from Joseon, how about some Galbi-don?"

The server gave me a thoughtful look, then smoothly recommended a different dish.

"Alright then, Galbi rice bowl it is."

"Yes! Your order is confirmed. That’ll be 2 silver, 50 copper."

A Japanese restaurant. Middle Kingdom folk speaking Japanese-sounding gibberish, paying in silver and copper coins. And yet I’m the only one here treated like a black-haired barbarian.

It was a weird feeling.

------

"Here’s your food. You ordered quite a bit, so the pickled radish is on the house."

This place is better than I expected. That sweet-and-salty galbi flavor with rice hit the spot, even if I wasn’t hungry.

"When are we leaving from here?"

I asked Dang-Pae after finishing most of my meal.

"The West Sichuan Escort Bureau, operated by the Tang Clan, is arranging a boat. It might take some time, so let’s rest another day or two to recover from the journey, then we can depart."

"Traveling by boat, huh? That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day."

From Wushan to Yichang, the Yangtze River connects the two. If we can go by boat, that’s perfect.

"They’re getting us a large ship to make the trip more comfortable. Just a bit more, and we’ll be in Yichang."

"I see."

Yichang, huh. I’ve been away for too long.

Uncle, the Chief Steward of Baek Family Manor, is handling things, so it should be fine... but I’ve got more than a few worries.

"Is something troubling you? You haven’t looked well lately."

Dang-Pae asked, concern on his face.

I’ve got a ton of worries. Too many, really.

"I left with two people, but I’m coming back alone."

I gave a bitter smile, offering a simple excuse.

"Ah..."

Was he thinking of someone? The mood turned a little heavy.

"Haha, that’s not it. I was just thinking about having to clean up by myself when I get back."

I forced a laugh to lighten the mood.

"We won’t leave right away after arriving. If there’s anything you need, just tell us."

"There’s no need for that."

I don’t want to get too tangled up with the Tang Clan.

"I’ve been strictly ordered to get a copy of Storm of the Tang Clan Volume 3, so I’ll be staying a while even if you refuse."

"My sister and a friend begged me to bring back a copy too..."

"Master Ho-pil, could you let us take a look at Volume 3 early?"

So that’s what this is about? That changes things.

"I’ll show you the first copy when it’s out. But in exchange, help me out a bit."

"Of course."

I nodded at the warriors, who looked like they expected this, and chuckled inside.

Free labor, huh? I’ll have them do stocktaking, cleaning, printing—anything annoying, I’ll dump on them before they go.

-----------

After a satisfying meal, I returned to my room and lay on the bed alone.

"I’ve got too many things to worry about."

In front of others, I said it was just about Hwa-rin, but that’s far from the whole story.

"First off, operations."

We left together, but I’m coming back alone. It wasn’t just the loneliness—I’ve got real issues with manpower now.

Managing Daseogak’s staff, taking inventory, bookkeeping, printing—sure, I helped, but Hwa-rin handled most of it.

Even if it looks like Ho-pil built up the Yichang Daseogak, truth is, Hwa-rin supported it all behind the scenes.

Now she’s staying at the Tang Clan. There’s no way this won’t be a huge burden.

"Then there’s the Fame Points issue—saving the Heavenly Killing Star and the Poisoned One."

Writing books gets me Fame Points, but just sitting in Yichang writing novels won’t be enough to save the women I love.

"Debt and money are problems too."

Sure, Hwa-rin gave me the building for Daseogak, but running the bookstore meant taking on debt, and that’s still hanging over me.

And if the previous heroines weren’t True Heroines, then along with Fame Points, I’ll need to raise my financial stats too—key to unlocking other routes in this martial arts dating sim.

"The best way would be opening another branch of Daseogak, but that’s no small feat."

Running one shop’s already hard enough. Franchising? Forget it. It’s not just double the hassle, it’s endless.

And...

There’s one thing that worries me more than anything else.

"I’ve caused a serious problem."

Even setting aside the True Heroine routes, there’s something really important.

Something huge.

Something that’s been on my mind ever since I met Murong Sang-ah.

Something I ignored with Cheon So-hee, but I knew it was there.

And after Tang Hwa-rin started to overcome her Poisoned One fate, I really have to face it now.

I wish someone else knew. I wish someone else could deal with it.

But no one else knows.

Only me.

Now I have to face it.

That problem is—

"The original protagonist. What the hell am I gonna do?"