Jung Ho crumpled the paper, his lips carved into a thin line. His fair skin turned red, orange actually as the ray of the sun meddled with its raging color. He breathed heavily, sucked air slowly, push them gently outwards. A suppressed and controlled anger. Because he had been very occupied by different stressful situations—the Tang envoy, the hwarang mass recruitment, Prince Xiao Ji—he did not had the time to think of a backup plan just in case his plan failed. He rationalized, he contemplated, staring into the mid-air. Because he was he, the issue of 'who did that to them?' or 'what would I do?' did not bother him the most. More likely, it was, 'what happened to me? why did I not see this coming? is this because of old age?'

He knew he was not as youthful as he was twenty or thirty years ago. His face might be flawless, impeccable, exemplary—but it was only on the superficial level. A dazzling cover of ancient scripture. The physical aspects of his body looked young. He was Silla's standard on how to define a handsome, charming, hormone-rising man. However, he felt that his mental acumen was not as harper and accurate as before. Rust has tainted his gold. Fifteen years ago, he was able to manipulate anyone so perfectly. The eclipse, Chil Yook and Lady Jang's execution, and ultimately hiding the other twin Prince. Everything that he had done in the past seemed to be cohesive and very well-calculated. Ever since he became Prime Minister, he had never tasted the sensation of failure. But when Chil Yook had betrayed him, he admitted—it distorted his world. It messed up everything, the reason why he was very eager to kill his former henchman. It seemed like a catastrophic chain reaction, unstoppable, spontaneously dangerous.

The plan obviously failed. His only lead, his only light to find Chil Yook and Sae Yoo shattered into pieces. He needed to patch himself up, instead of lamenting about what the hands of time had done to his body. He would start to scratch, a new blank blueprint in which each detail was needed to be sketched precisely. As he was in the middle of his thinking process, his daughter came, dressed in a white, silk night robe, with a faint red lip and cheek tints. Her hair was simply braided in a jade hairpin. Jin Ri bowed to her father, and Jung Ho offered a seat, erasing all worries painted on his face.

"A pleasant morning, my darling. What makes you visit my morning tea party?"

"Father, may I ask for a favor?"

Jung Ho smiled, "Anything for my sweetest daughter. Speak."

"Father, I have heard that you need to deploy hwarangs to Dokdo Island... Shun, please send Shun there. I do not want him in the palace anymore."

Jung Ho crossed his arms, squinting at his daughter. Perplexed, baffled with Jin Ri's exaggerated behavior towards a nangdo. "Darling, tell me the truth. Why are you so bothered with this Shun? He is just a mere trainee. He touches you, and he goes home with his family brutally murdered. Relax."

The spoiled daughter bit her lips and shifted her head to the left, fingers itching to clump together. She knew Sae Joo's new behavior was still raw. Juvenile, inexperienced, fragile. One blow and he could go shatter again back to his original gullible, immature, incompetent self. Jin Ri was aware that Shun was one of the Prince's key strength—source of the fire that had kept him with what he was now. She was a hunter in the dark woods, lurking and stalking for her prey. She wanted to hit two flying cranes with one stone. Retaliation and manipulation.

Jin Ri forced a half-smile across her lips, "I think you do not understand me, Father. This is not just to get even with that lowlife. I am not going to stoop low just for him. There is a bigger picture that you need to see."

The Prime Minister could not help but scoff with what he heard. "What is that bigger picture then?"

"We could use Shun to destroy Sae Joo bit by bit. Everyone thought that Sae Joo has changed, that he has matured. But no, he was still the young boy that I have known. He cannot stand on us by himself, he depends on people around him. Now, in order to prevent him from being that strong person, we need to kick out people that give him strength, that inspires him. One of them is Shun."

Jung Ho shook his index finger to his daughter, partly amaze of what the young lady had been thinking. At a young age, he knew that his daughter has been raised very well. She was sharp, keen, and dangerously ambitious. "Now that you have mentioned it, I have become curious on who that Shun really is," he called a nangdo and ordered him so summon Shun.

~~•~~

A usual morning. Different breeze of wind, but same cool, soul-rejuvenating sensation. The king of the skies emitted the same bright yellow ray, blessing the entire kingdom with new hope and life. New strength, new goals, new driving force. Luckily, the hwarangs, training in their barracks had received their much-needed strengths. The challenges had become harder, the training had become more intense, demanding more physical strength and mental focus. There was no room for sickly, ranting, and over-demanding persons.

Even though the sun was not at its peak yet, the warmth it had been giving for the past hour since it had risen was truly enlivening, especially to the working blood of the Yellow Tiger nangdos who just had their first water break after an hour of muscle-suffocating training. They raced towards the water well and dipped their heads, sucking fresh, sweet, cold water to their dry, sweating mouths. Sae Joo was among them, still his training had continued. He sat at a bench, gulping fresh, cold water. A flash flood in his craving throat. Shun sat beside him and handed a piece of bread. "Here you go, Your Highness."

Sae Joo nudged him in the chest; Shun flinched in light pain. "Aw! What is that for?"

"You fool. Have you forgotten already? Nobody calls me, 'Your Highness', while in training."

The teenage nangdo grinned and scratched his head, remembering a vital rule. "Oh, my apologies, Sae Joo."

"Much better. I like it when you call me by my name," he winked and smirked.

Shun's cheek colored red, his white face glimmered by the sun. Eyes wide, heart racing and pounding in a pitchy beat, lips trembling trying to hide his awkward smile. Trying to flush away the embarrassing, strange, inappropriate feeling, he asked him about what had happened between him and Xiao Ji.

"Sae Joo, uh, about the Tang Prince..."

The Crown Prince tapped his shoulder and gazed straight into his chestnut brown eyes, stapling assurance and sincerity. "No need to worry. It went just fine. He asked me who you truly are but I did not tell him a single hint. Worry not, even if he bleeds a lot, I will never reveal you. You have protected me enough, this time I will do my part as your friend."

"Thank you, Sae Joo."

For quite some time, Sae Joo had been noticing a circumstantial mark on Shun's face which made him quite astonished. His grip on the nangdo's shoulders tightened as he examined his face. Shun felt a flash of lightning on his heart—a burning sensation pumping his heart too loud. His stomach acid boiled, dancing with the percussion of his running blood pump. Sae Joo's eyes transfixed on Shun's, irises expanding in a gush. He was not aware that his face was getting closer and closer to Shun, to his faint red, thin lips. His breath tasting his. Shun panicked and squirmed his body, but the Crown Prince's hands clamped harder.

"Wait, stop moving. I just noticed something amazing."

"Wh-wh-what is it, Your... Arghh, I mean Sae Joo?"

Sae Joo's hand loosed, his face moved a sufficient distance away. His eyes flashed a bright smile as he narrated, "You and I both have the same birthmark in the face. Daebak!" he pointed a small star-shaped mole under Shun's right eye.

"Oh, this?" Shun motioned his finger to the spot.

"Look! Mine is on the left side"

The nangdo squinted his eyes, trying to see what the Prince had just pointed out. He was amazed as well, recognizing the same mole under Sae Joo's eyes. "Wow. That was indeed... wonderful," he chortled.

In the middle of their fun break time, a guard suddenly showed up by the entrance of the barracks. Jun Pyeong, the hwarangdo, approached the guard and asked what he wanted, "A pleasant morning. Is there anything that we can do for you?"

The guard greeted with a bow, "Jun Pyeong-rang, the Prime Minister wishes to talk with Shun."

Sae Joo stood and walked through the wooden gate as the other nangdos exchanged perplexed gazes and chatters with each other. "What is it? Why is the Prime Minister asking for Shun?"

"Your Highness, I have no idea. It was just the Prime Minister's orders."

The Crown Prince wondered and had a quick thought on what the Prime Minister truly wanted. Whatever that was, all he wanted to do was to make sure that his friend would not be at risk, so decided to accompany Shun to his uncle.

"I see. The Prime Minister can talk to Shun after our training, but I will go with him."

"As you wish, Your Highness."

~~•~~

Another hour was history. The guard led them in front of the Prime Minister's pavilion. Sae Joo's eyebrows scrunched upon seeing Jung Ho, sitting idly over his covered tent, in the courtyard. Female servants swaying big feather fans beside him. Hwarangs and guards standing vigilantly around him. Jung Ho stood and welcomed the Prince. "Your Highness, what brings you here?"

"Uncle, this guard has told me that you wish to talk to Shun. Is that right?"

"Yes, Prince. I wish to know him more since he has been... a little bit special to you."

Sae Joo gave him nothing but a frown. Jung Ho craned his head and stared at Shun, who was awkwardly standing behind the Prince. The Prince cut in and asked, "May I know why you want to talk to him?"

"Like what I have said, Your Highness—I just want to know him. After all, we are family. Do I not deserve to know the people around you?"

"Fine. I will be waiting."

Jung Ho smirked, mocking the Prince's patience, "Are you sure, Prince Sae Joo? This might take some long time. Why do you not sit on my chair as I try to know your special servant?" he signaled a hwarang to bring out two wooden sticks. He grabbed one and gave the other one the young nangdo. Shun was surprised, paralyzed for a few seconds.

"Uncle, what is this?" intrigued Sae Joo.

The Prime Minister paced down towards Shun, encircling him slowly, scanning the boy head to foot. "This is the way I want to know him. He was your savior. I just want to see how he fights."

Worry and tension traced down on Sae Joo's face. Shun noticed that his master's visage had drained some of its colors—probably in shock as well. In response, he asked permission to him, reminding him of an important rule of being a hwarang, "Your Highness, as a hwarang, I cannot reject the Prime Minister's invitation. Please consider."

"Fine," the Prince turned back and sat his uncle's chair a few meters away from them. An ample distance where he could still see vividly their every movement.

Jung Ho stretched his arm, twitched his wrist, clutching his stick, and beamed, "Attack me."

A tiny spot of apprehension tainted Shun's high-energy spirit. He was completely unsure about how to deal with a man with so much power. Would he give his best? Would he revere? He could not even twitch a muscle, his legs spread in an awkward stance. Warm breaths heaved and trapped at his voice box, his stomach churning violently.

The Prime Minister moved his left foot forward, the right supporting his weight at the back, whirling the sword. He warned Shun as he glued a contemptuous gaze, "Worry not. I come prepared. You may strike and hit me like I am your enemy. Are we clear?"

"Y-ye-yes, Your Excellency," stammered Shun, sweats dripping down his face, his body heat rising up.

"Good. What are you still doing? Attack me."

After a hard gulp, a deep sigh tunneled through the nangdo's trembling mouth. His feet dashed to the Prime Minister, his body was like a missile from a battleship, tearing the soft water into two. To an extent, Jung Ho was stunned; he was almost caught almost off-guard. Good thing, before Shun could hit his chest in a strong blow, he was able to block him off. (Clak!) Jung Ho gritted his teeth, keeping up with the strength and power of a young boy. Shun tried to be calm and focused as much as he could. He did not know what to do next. What part should he hit? Waist? Arm? Legs? Or head?

The Prime Minister grunted. His arms swirled into the air with a series of pitter patter attacks, like rain falling down the pavilion roofs. Shun managed to counter them precisely. A tap dance between two males. Two steps forward for Jung Ho, one step backward for Shun. Then in reverse. A continuous reversal for almost five long minutes. Hard arms swaying into the air in tensed ripostes.

Jung Ho's power catapulted down a bit. His breaths were chasing his heart, pearls of sweat dripping profusely down his white skin. He could not keep up the boy's strength forever. To protect himself, his sword belabored Shun's. Their weapons crossed with each other, pushing and rubbing intensely. Pairs of eyes met within a small crevice from their weapons, no signs of backing down.

When Shun was still in Myeongju, when Chil Yook was still his only teacher, he had learned the very basic etiquette of fighting: Do not hit anything below the person's waist. For years, Shun had stuck to that principle. He was a method fighter, who always followed by the book. He developed his strength and controlled his power to a point that he could maximize his blows and smashes at any point of a person's body, aside from the thighs and down below. However, all had changed when he had faced Prince Xiao Ji in Dokdo Island. He learned to set his principles aside, especially his and other people's lives were at stake. Now that he had become a hwarang, he gained more knowledge, his mind was more open with the versatility and diversity of the art of fighting. He was like a switch (on and off), depending on the situation, he could learn and unlearn different moves and techniques fluidly.

Jung Ho was mind reader after all. He sensed that the boy was scared of him, to the point that Shun could not make another move. Being an opportunist, he seized the boy's weakness. He quickly hopped backward and swirled the stick towards Shun's chest. Its tip was about to smack his chest. Too close! An inch away! But the boy was agile as lightning, he completely dodged the hit by bending backward, whirling his feet like a maelstrom, dancing his way to the Prime Minister's back. Jung Ho was stupefied, as his enemy was gone from his line of sight. It happened too quick, his eyes must be fooling him.

Able to find balance after a dance with the devil, Shun stroke Jung Ho's back, making the Prime Minister stumble on the ground. Sword dropped into the ground. Ending with a dramatic climax, Shun pointed Jung Ho's neck with his stick (swoosh!), panting fairly.

There was a dead silence. People that had swarmed on the outskirts of the courtyard arena remained speechless. A nangdo just defeated the great, indomitable, iron Prime Minister. Jung Ho slowly rose, shoving dirt from his robe. A clap after a smirk. "Incredible! You are indeed one of the best nangdos of your generation."

Shun bowed his head, "You honor me, Prime Minister."

"I could help you rise to the next level, if you wish. You are what this nation needs. How did you learn those techniques? I would not believe if you would say you learned it from training. You are a new nangdo."

"I learned it all from my father, Your Excellency. I have been training with him since the age of five."

Jung Ho's lips engraved in a pernicious half-smile, amazed with his history. "Your father? Who is he? Was he also a hwarang?"

"No, sir. He is just a mere blacksmith."

"A blacksmith? I did not know that a blacksmith knows how to fight like a hwarang. You are from Sangju, right? Would you mind if I meet your father? To give him credits for what he has taught you."

Shun stuttered, feeling a bit fearful towards a man he barely knew, digging into his personal life. He did not want his sick father to be more involved in the light of the capital. So he composed a sound alibi, which was partly true, "Forgive me, Your Excellency but my father is very sick. I do not think he could even have the face to meet with a high official like you," he bowed his head.

"Hmm, I understand. If you need help with anything, especially with your father, do not hesitate to approach me. I would be very willing to help a competent person like you..."

"Your kind words honor me, sir."

"I just have one last question. What is the name of your father?"

Before Shun could even had the guts to react or to answer, their conversation was disrupted by an announcement, "His Majesty graces us all!"

People cleared the way and bowed their heads as Jae Joong strode near the two. The King scanned the area, confused with what just happened. "Is there a play here that I have missed?" he called Sae Joo from his chair, and the Prince complied, honoring his father's presence.

"Prince, what is happening? Why are there people thronging around here? Why is there a tent? Wooden sticks. Can someone explain to me?"

Jung Ho cut in, "Your Majesty, perhaps you came a bit late. We just had a brief moment of fun, and I have discovered something."

"What is it, Prime Minister?"

"This boy just beat me in a sparring round. His fighting skills are above average, matching the skills of our hwarangdos, I guess. With our existing problem regarding the tightening of Dokdo Island security..." he paused and shifted a sardonic sneer to Sae Joo.

He continued, "... how about we send this boy as one of our additional troops in Dokdo Island?" 

__________