Printing.
I wrote the novel on a word processor and pressed the printer button. It only took a few seconds for my writing to appear on A4 paper. Just stack the paper in the hole punch, punch some holes, and roughly bind it together, and voilà, a novel book is done.
“Here, I have to start by finding lead types.”
Thousands of printing types organized neatly in the corner of the printing room.
As I worked on selecting the letters needed for the novel among those types, I thought about the advanced printing technology of modern times.
Every time I do this, it feels like my eyeballs are about to pop out. If I don’t look closely, they all look the same.
“Hwa-rin! I’m done with selecting a page worth of text. Please start the typesetting.”
“…Huh?”
Why does her response sound so drained?
Hwa-rin, with her shoulders slightly drooping, began arranging the types I had selected to create the printing plate.
Is she tired?
With all the book organizing, ledger managing, cleaning, and a mountain of other tasks, it’s true that the workload is heavy, even though my elderly colleagues help out.
It would be great if she could just sleep early to recover from her fatigue. Yet, for some reason, these days, Hwa-rin doesn’t sleep until I finish writing. Even though proofreading and error checking aren’t necessary every day.
“The Rise of the Tang Family” is scheduled to go on sale tomorrow, but Hwa-rin has to send the final product up when she’s done.
“Hwa-rin, we’re short on types. Do you have any extras lying around?”
“There’s a box over there with some.”
“Found it.”
I pulled out a bundle of frequently used types from the corner box. Thank goodness I didn’t have to go through the casting process when printing.
Casting means melting lead alloy and shaping it into specific characters using a type casting machine.
Printing usually starts with the casting process. But casting requires delicate skills to create the types.
Who knew that there could be something harder than changing toner during printing?
Thanks to a retired employee who was doing some hobby work, he made the missing types for just material costs.
“Hwa-rin’s maternal grandfather was a truly respected man.”
Taking out the types, I felt anew how important connections are in this world. Just revealing that Hwa-rin is the granddaughter of Baekga-jang would normally grant her access to a comfortable life in this Yichang. Of course, money matters are a different story.
“Hwa-rin, I finished the selection work, so I’ll help you.”
Is she tired? Hwa-rin’s movements seem slower than usual today. I finished the text selection and moved next to Hwa-rin to help with the typesetting.
“…Huh.”
Hwa-rin’s face, seen up close, looked shadowy rather than tired. Did something upset her?
She seemed happy during the incident with the shiny goblet earlier.
“Hwa-rin, is there something strange about me?”
I deliberately sniffed my sleeve exaggeratedly in front of her.
“No, why?”
“Hahaha. I was worried I smelled from all the work at noon.”
I tried to lighten Hwa-rin’s melancholic expression by recalling the funniest event from today.
“You don’t smell.”
She replied weakly, her expression darkening even further.
What’s up with that? It should’ve been a refreshing moment. While I was cleaning up the aftermath, that little girl showed everyone how red a person’s face can get.
Of course, I also told her to mind the other guests while scolding her casually. Is that what’s bothering her?
“Well, that’s fine! It was seriously hilarious earlier, right?”
I exaggeratedly laughed, acting like it didn’t bother me.
“Hwa-rin, let’s chat about fun things to drive away the bad feelings,” I suggested. Hwa-rin stared up at me and cautiously opened her mouth.
“…Do those kinds of guests come often?”
Is she talking about the strange customer with the smile?
“Well, of course not. It’s lucky if they’re just secretly laughing behind my back. Just the other day, a few little girls came together and pointed at me, giggling among themselves. If they weren’t customers, it would have been a real problem.”
I said this with a genuinely aggrieved expression. You can catch on without needing to listen closely. I’m used to it.
Ah, there goes your boyfriend!
Where? Where? Crazy girl. He’s your boyfriend!
At least they could have whispered it. The ugly guy overhearing that might not seem like a man to you all, but he could still get hurt feelings.
Of course, arriving in this world, my looks have improved. But that’s only when I act as a barbarian from across the sea; what stays the same is that I’m still a black-haired barbarian, discriminated against and scorned in these Central Plains.
“I don’t think that’s the reason.”
Lady Tang’s expression turned skeptical as she looked at me.
“‘Not’ what? I keep myself tidy. It’s only because I’m surrounded by fewer prejudices. Try living as a barbarian looking like a beggar in the Central Plains. The whole world feels like my enemy.”
In my mind, moments of being looked down upon and discriminated against as a barbarian flashed by like a panorama. Even when I just wanted a meal, they’d topple the bowl I was holding into the dirt because I’m a barbarian.
Through those humiliating years, here I am, finally becoming a manager. Life is truly unpredictable.
“…Well, it’s good if you understand that.”
“What’s all this understanding about? It’s just the truth.”
“Cough, cough. Okay, okay.”
Lady Tang glanced at my sulky expression and let out a small laugh. Maybe my self-deprecation had brightened her mood a little.
Although the shadow on Hwa-rin’s face had not fully disappeared, she seemed a bit more relaxed now.
With this atmosphere, we could smoothly wrap up the remaining work for tomorrow’s publication.
——————
Printing and Binding.
We hurriedly applied ink to the printing plates, printed, and bound the papers, completing the book.
“Finally finished.”
Looking at the title boldly written on the cover, “The Rise of the Tang Family,” something swelled in my chest. I can’t even put into words how many things happened to bring me this far.
“It would’ve taken ages to copy that.”
Behind the book I was holding, hundreds of “The Rise of the Tang Family” books were visible. Tteok-hyup-ji. In this place, they will be called Colored Heroic Stories, and I smiled at the thought.
Now, I just need to finish one more and take the books to the first floor, and we can start sales tomorrow.
“Hwa-rin, great job! I’ll handle the rest.”
“If you’re going to do it, you should do it together until the end. What’s that about?”
“You’re tired. Just go rest.”
“I’m fine.”
“I’m fine too.”
I exaggeratedly mimicked her tone and gestures.
“What’s that? Cough, cough.”
Hwa-rin couldn’t hold back her laughter at my antics. It was the brightest expression I had seen since she entered the printing room.
“Well, since the binding is done, all that’s left is stamping and organizing on the first floor. You should go up and rest first.”
“Alright, then.”
Hwa-rin nodded, seeming firm in her resolve.
As she nodded, a black smudge that was hardly visible due to the lighting and her splotchy skin caught my eye.
“Hwa-rin, there’s ink on your face… Yikes!”
As I reached for my towel to wipe Hwa-rin’s face, she quickly grabbed my wrist.
“Ah! Sorry.”
It was perhaps an instinctive defense; she hurriedly released my wrist when she noticed my pain.
“It’s okay, I was careless.”
I didn’t know about other body parts, but her face was a strong complex area. Touching that might get me into some real trouble.
I gingerly held my wrist and bowed my head in apology. Hwa-rin looked at my wrist with a sorry expression before meeting my gaze.
“Yoon-ho.”
Hwa-rin stared at me with a serious look, as if she had made a significant decision.
“Yeah?”
“Please.”
Showing a hint of embarrassment, Hwa-rin closed her eyes and tilted her chin towards me.
“Uh? Okay, I’ll wipe it for you.”
I carefully held Hwa-rin’s chin with one hand while bringing the towel to wipe away the ink on her face with the other.
In the quiet printing room, with work finished, the two of us remained. As the towel touched her face, Hwa-rin twitched strangely before accepting my touch with a flushed face.
The atmosphere felt bizarre. It was awkward.
“Yoon-ho.”
“Uh? Uh-oh!”
I was startled and slightly taken aback by her call.
“Thanks to the medicine you gave me, it doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“Glad to hear that.”
I replied absentmindedly while wiping the ink off her cheek.
“Because of you, I could keep this bookstore running.”
“Glad to hear that.”
“Thanks to you, this bookstore is doing well.”
“Glad to hear that.”
“I don’t know if that book will be a success, but…”
“Haha. I’ll make sure we don’t run out of stock.”
“Thank you.”
Hwa-rin lightly stroked my wrist that she had held tightly just moments ago.
“We friends have to do this much.”
“Right. It’s because we’re friends…”
However, there was a hint of sorrow in Lady Tang’s voice.
“Hwa-rin?”
“It’s nothing. Just feeling a little off today. I should go upstairs now. Please finish up.”
Without looking back, Hwa-rin left the printing room.
“Why did she act like that…?”
*
Lady Tang hurried up to the attic and headed to the washroom.
She gazed at her reflection in the mirror.
A hideous face below her nose. Her splotchy skin was a mess, clean at the neck but similar to her upper body when she lifted her clothes again.
“Friends.”
Lady Tang looked into the mirror with a bitter expression as she started to think about the friend she had first obtained.
Something she truly wanted desperately.
Not based on background, but someone who looked at her and approached her as a foreigner.
Someone who would kindly extend a hand when she felt weary and overwhelmed.
A friend who, even when everything was lost and staying by her side would be more of a burden, would still ask why she didn’t ask for help, wearing a sad face.
When Lady Tang observed the silhouette of the man sitting late at night, writing with fatigue for her sake, her heart warmed.
She couldn’t stop thinking about the man filling her mind.
“This is the life I’ve wished for.”
A bird that has escaped its cage has finally found its nest.
Being with him makes her feel like she’s a normal person. Living a life sharing with friends is happier than the wealthy lifestyle of a family head.
This hard-won precious routine.
However, recently she had begun to feel a subtle sense of discomfort.
“Don’t get confused by this face.”
Lady Tang warned herself as she stared into the mirror.
Yoon-ho has a painful past. He carries the sorrow of losing his best friend.
His gentle treatment toward her is a way to atone for the guilt he holds toward his late friend.
Because he had that friend, Yoon-ho could treat her normally. It’s as if he’s compensating for how he treated his late friend with kindness toward her.
She mustn’t misinterpret his gentleness.
Don’t misunderstand, Lady Tang.
“Right now, this is good.”
Lady Tang warned herself once more.
The frustrating feelings in her heart. Emotions she still couldn’t concretely express. If she were to pour these out in front of him, it could ruin their current relationship.
As she started washing up, she diligently ignored the feelings slowly blossoming in her heart.
No matter how much she washed her body, the ink stains would fade, but the stains on her skin would not disappear.
The finishing touch.
Just one final touch, and everything will be complete.
I was mired in a great dilemma about putting the dot on the dragon I was dreaming of becoming.
That dilemma was,
“What pen name should I use?”
Nicknames are important.
If I choose a bad nickname, during an online game gathering, some middle-aged men with beards would say, “Tinkerbell! Are you a love fairy?”
On web novel platforms or management companies, “Hello, ‘CheapChest’ author! Haha, hello, ‘BoobiesAreGreat’ author! You changed your nickname, didn’t you?”
This stuff can totally happen.
A nickname is another form of my identity.
I can’t just throw it together. I have to pick it carefully.
“If I use a pen name, my fame will rise.”
That’s already proven during my time as the black-haired barbarian Kang Mo, suppressing the killing intent of the Heavenly Killing Star, and alleviating the pain of the poison man.
The question now is, what sort of pen name to use.
Kang Mo is no longer a name I should go by. It could be linked to the Black Tiger Society in one way or another.
“Should I use my real name?”
Suddenly, a woman’s tearful face, far away in Hubei Province, comes to mind.
“Phew.”
I let out a deep sigh.
If I become famous, I will eventually have to face her. But there’s no need to rush it.
“Maybe I can borrow a famous senior’s pen name from the original world.”
There are countless seniors who laid the groundwork for modern martial arts and revitalized the genre.
For martial arts ancestors, there’s Writer Wa Ryong-saeng. For colored heroic stories, there’s Writer Wa Ryong-gang. Should I go with Wa Ryong-ho? Nah, that feels a bit lacking.
“Should I call myself Ji-u, meaning ‘Friend of Paper’?”
That somehow feels like it belongs to a mundane daily life. It doesn’t suit me.
No matter how I think about it, I couldn’t reach a conclusion easily.
“Seriously overthinking this.”
I chuckled at myself for contemplating something so trivial.
Just yesterday, I was anxiously clutching my rumbling stomach, wondering if I could have a meal.
The world is truly harsh for barbarians.
Even if Kang Yoon-ho becomes famous for writing, there will still be those pointing fingers at me as a barbarian.
“A good pen name has come to me.”
I smiled as I took out two characters to create a stamp and pressed my pen name onto the cover of the book.
The two characters I brought out.
Another name of mine.
Barbarian Ho (胡).
Pen (筆).
“Ho-pil (胡筆).”
The black-haired barbarian.
An outsider reincarnated in another world.
No matter what I say or what I write, this undeniable fact will never change.
Then, I’ll use this as my pen name.
Sure, now I’m the black-haired scribe in a martial arts dating simulation!
