“To regularly sponsor the protagonist, it’s better to write several letters like before.”
Just because I write a letter doesn’t mean it goes directly to the original protagonist.
It’s a two-month round trip to Shaanxi Province, and it takes even longer to organize a postal team to go from the post office to Shaanxi and back. Besides, in a few months, winter with snow will come.
The world I live in isn’t modern, where snowplows clean the roads every morning.
With so many variables in delivering letters, it would be best to have the Seocheon Post Office Shaanxi branch handle it regularly, as before.
“I guess I’ll have to stick with the concept of a blunt sponsor for Jiwoo.”
I thought about gradually being more friendly based on the original protagonist’s reactions or cutting the sponsorship money out of spite, but too much time has passed now.
No matter what the original protagonist asks, whether angry or not, Jiwoo would just robotically deliver the good wishes letters and sponsorship money. Changing the letter concept suddenly would definitely feel weird.
“I think it’s best to keep the blunt concept while adjusting the plan based on the responses from the original protagonist…”
It’s sort of a trust issue.
If the protagonist suspected I wasn’t reading any of their letters, there’s no need to reveal the fact that I’ve never read any of the original protagonist’s letters.
“How should I write it?”
“Is it Master Kang?”
As I was pondering, the door to the office opened.
“Miss Zhuge. Looks like I woke you up.”
Time had flown, and the moon was now high in the night sky. The silver-haired beauty rubbed her sleepy eyes while looking at me, dressed in loose pajamas.
“Were you working until this late?”
Miss Zhuge glanced at the paperwork-covered desk before she spoke to me.
“I think I’ll be able to sleep soon.”
“It’s already quite late. You should, you should get some rest…”
Miss Zhuge averted her gaze and spoke with concern.
“I have somewhere to go tomorrow.”
“W-Well then, I’ll get you a cup of tea.”
“Tea?”
“I learned it from Sister Hayan.”
With a triumphant expression, Miss Zhuge disappeared into the kitchen, dragging her loose pajama pants.
Sure. Tea is good. It’ll help me organize my thoughts, so I can drink a cup quickly.
“Here, drink up!”
Miss Zhuge swiftly brought the tea and offered it to me along with a plate.
“Thank…”
Suddenly, I was at a loss for words.
Oh no. Did she make it in a hurry that I didn’t notice?
I could see Miss Zhuge’s bare skin. The loose shoulder part of her top revealed a bit of flesh.
What a sudden shoulder exposure. That defenseless, white shoulder glimmered strikingly in the moonlight.
“M-Master Kang?”
Miss Zhuge looked at me, seemingly unaware of anything. If I sensed her noticing, we’d both become embarrassed. I hurriedly shifted my gaze to the tray.
Huh?
“Oh… having iced Americano at this hour is a bit.”
“Ah!”
——
“Don’t need to be too familiar. I need to maintain distance while making her follow my instructions.”
It wasn’t that I meant for her not to sleep. I’m sorry! After continually apologizing, I sent Miss Zhuge back to her room and sat back down.
After some lighthearted time passed, my thoughts became clearer.
Unless it’s an extraordinarily beautiful heroine, this is the original protagonist we’re talking about. There’s no need to get overly familiar.
It’s more important to maintain an appropriate level of authority and have a distance that makes her follow my words.
How should I write to the original protagonist?
There was no need to ponder much.
“I’m a master strategist! Writing a reply is easy.”
From casual greetings to gigabytes of texts, I’ve got countless failed experiences reaching out to girls I had feelings for.
Of course, the fact that my target isn’t a girl but the original protagonist is a drawback. But stirring the heart is key.
“I asked for a ride on the emotions, so I’ll better give it a shake.”
Recalling past experiences stings, but it’s fine. Surviving means being strong. If the original protagonist shivers from my strength, that’s all that matters.
[To Ranmae.]
I gazed at the carefully penned greeting with a satisfied smile.
“A response that comes unexpectedly from someone I thought would give none is quite thrilling.”
If someone I expected no response from suddenly calls my name? What on earth is going on? They’d definitely read it with wide eyes again.
“Yoon Ho, what are you up to?”
I’d been surprised. When I got a message from a junior who’d probably barely know my name, an avalanche of thoughts flooded in.
Did she hear that I returned to school? Wasn’t she under the impression I graduated? Why is she looking for me?
She invited me for coffee, and I was even thinking about treating her to a meal if I gathered the courage for a confession.
“Yoon Ho, do you know about network marketing? It’s really taking off in advanced countries!”
Whoa now, that’s crossing the line.
“Well, she called my name once, so the next message is the real problem.”
A response that talks too much would ruin the tall gentleman concept. I need to maintain that concept while stirring Ranmae’s emotions.
In times like this, the best approach is to keep it simple, dropping them line by line.
[Hang in there.]
“I’ll just let her know I’m reading original protagonist’s letters.”
I called her Ranmae as she requested and encouraged her when I saw she seemed to be struggling.
What would the original protagonist think? A tall gentleman actually read my letter. A sponsor is worried about me. She’ll stare at the letter with surprised eyes.
If someone keeps pushing away but finally gives in, what can be more delightful? It might not be this scenario exactly, but I’m sure it’s solid advice from Master Kang, a pro in the push-and-pull game with women.
“For the first time, Jiwoo reacted to me. It’s bound to have a big impact on the original protagonist.”
To Ranmae. Hang in there.
Just a few characters, yet the reply is filled with countless meanings.
“If I send the second letter, it should be around the Chuseok holiday.”
The second letter’s content easily popped into mind.
[To Ranmae.]
[Sending a Chuseok gift. May smiles bloom on your face.]
It feels a bit awkward to send this to a guy, but if she’s feeling down, I should act as if I care one more time.
“I remember she said she liked sweets. I can just request something appropriate to send from the Seocheon Post Office.”
The original protagonist has grown up in a remote area and generally likes whatever, but she especially loves sweets. It should make a nice gift.
I called her by the name she asked, offered encouragement, and even gave her a gift in the next letter.
How should I write to her for the next one?
“If I lifted her spirits, I need to bring them down a notch.”
I won’t use her name in the next letter but return to writing a typical greeting letter.
I’ll tell her to keep training hard and to watch out for colds. It’s a regular greeting, but unlike my previous two letters, this one would lack a bit of tenderness.
“I mustn’t make saying Ranmae feel mundane.”
The original protagonist also knows the value of my sponsorship, and since my master Jinmu is ill and needs medication, there’s no need to pull rank by cutting off the funds.
However, I’ll use the name Ranmae, which symbolizes my closeness to the original protagonist, only occasionally to keep its special meaning.
“Why is she not calling me Ranmae? Did I do something wrong? Or is Jiwoo sick? I just wish she’d call me Ranmae.” With that unspoken grudge piled up…
“I’ll send the letter for the first anniversary of the sponsorship.”
[To Ranmae.]
[May you stay healthy in the New Year. More than 15 years ago, the thread of black destiny.]
“At that point, she’d surely guess my true identity and be astounded.”
I, the Joseon person who saved the original protagonist, an orphan. The one who generously sponsored to make him a disciple of the Volcano Sect.
‘So it was you who sponsored me for a year! She’ll definitely think that!’
That person didn’t forget about me and continued supporting me. Her uncontrollable heart would be racing.
“I set the Joseon person setting since it’s a Korean martial arts simulation, but…”
Regardless of how the original protagonist’s story turns out, they won’t meet their benefactor after the story concludes.
Since the story diverges from the original, I need to use every piece of information available.
“If I connect trust and fate, it’ll be harder for him to defy my words later.”
Having been supported by the benefactor who saved him as a child, a character with the protagonist’s personality wouldn’t easily disobey commands.
“Let’s make good use of this.”
If all goes according to my plan, I can lead the protagonist along the original storyline.
I completed the letters for the protagonist by the time spring arrived and tucked them into envelopes.
*
“Miss Zhuge, I’ll be heading out first.”
The next morning. In the dining room, Zhuge Hyan sat at the table, greeting Kang Yoon-ho, who was getting ready to leave with a fatigued face.
“Huh? Aren’t you having breakfast?”
“I need to stop by the Seocheon Post Office this morning. It’s something unexpected, so I have to move quickly.”
I need to explain in detail how to deliver letters at the Seocheon Post Office to the original protagonist. It was vital, so Kang Yoon-ho decided to move early.
“But still…”
Breakfast was a time to eat with Master Kang. Zhuge Hyan looked longingly at the warm food set on the table, her voice filled with disappointment.
“Haha, thanks for worrying, but I won’t die from missing one meal.”
“Yes…”
Since he didn’t eat with them yesterday either, Zhuge Hyan hesitated, unable to say anything, her shoulders drooping.
“I’d appreciate it if you could organize last month’s sales data. I’m in a rush, so I’ll go first.”
Zhuge Hyan couldn’t say anything to Kang Yoon-ho, who left with a sorry expression.
“Ugh…”
After finishing her meal alone, she stepped into the paperwork-laden office.
The paperwork originally meant for two women and one man.
Even though her sister had passed on some tasks to others, the important work had to be done properly by someone significant.
Zhuge Hyan dipped her brush in ink and began organizing the documents.
Morning.
Lunch.
Yet the paperwork just wouldn’t lessen.
“It seems…”
In the quiet office, Zhuge Hyan muttered in a slightly gloomy voice about the realization she had recently.
“I think I got played by Sister Hayan.”
