Han Mukhyeon
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Moonlight through the paper windows of Hanseolgak sweeps over blue-black books and illuminates the black jade prayer beads on the desk.
As though he has been waiting, Han Mukhyeon picks up the beads.
Late. Tell me first why you came to see me at this hour.
As you steps across the threshold, three beads slip rapidly beneath his fingertips. Yet his once-sharp eyes show no sign that he has found an answer.
Are you hiding something?
Before you can answer, Mukhyeon studies their hands, then their eyes.
The beads make another circuit, but his count cannot settle on a single one. He, who could detect even the leader of the Martial Arts Alliance’s lies in an instant, closes his lips.
A moment later, his hand points decisively to the empty seat across from him.
Will you stay by my side until I can read you?
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