Biga when I catch you Biga

A/N: I hope I didn't make him ooc cuz I've never wrote this man before TT also I hope this won't be boring for ppl who love yj because i don't love him 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘺 but ig it will be fine cuz the ch with lsb was fine even though i didn't like him 𝘵𝘢𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘺 too heh...

Also you said it's okay to make some changes on the idea and I took that invitation ☆(ゝω·)v I felt like giving yj love letters is so shojo high school anime girl coded and God I couldn't think straight imagining that as anything else but crack TT so I did the yk when we read some books that contain letters people have sent? I thought of smth similar and that it would be more natural (?) Idk but that's what i managed to write lol...

Anyway, please enjoy ts deprivedofyjfics ppl.

✿

The sound of snapping twigs and footsteps crushing grass was the only thing out of place amid the quiet noise of the nighttime forest. Even the faint, pleasant breeze wasn't strong enough to make the thin twigs sway and rustle.

At a steady pace, the footsteps moved forward. To most people, they would have sounded entirely ordinary. But anyone with keen senses could easily tell that their owner was a disciplined martial artist.

Yoon Jong stopped in his tracks when something caught his attention.

Amid the dark green grass, faintly illuminated by strips of moonlight filtering through the dense canopy above, something with an unnatural color lay on the ground.

Curious, Yoon Jong approached after a moment and picked up what turned out to be a small book of pale yellow color.

He looked around twice. There was no one nearby, nor could he sense anyone even farther away.

His gaze returned to the notebook. Nothing was written on the cover that might indicate what it was.

'Could it be some kind of accounting book?'

The thought was horrifying if that were the case. If this really was an accounting book, then Hyun Young would be furious to discover that something related to Mount Hua's precious finances had been treated with such carelessness.

Driven by curiosity and without much thought, Yoon Jong opened the book on a completely random page.

[I really, really love Yoon Jong Sahyung!]

Yoon Jong closed the book before what he had just read could fully register in his mind.

After a moment of silence, he opened it again.

Then closed it.

Then opened it.

Like a man repeatedly opening and closing an empty pantry door, hoping food would magically appear out of nowhere.

In a rare—not actually rare—expression usually seen only when Chung Myung did something insane, Yoon Jong's eyes widened dramatically.

He stared at the same words over and over as though he wasn't entirely sure he understood what was written.

Not really.

He raised his head and let out a quiet laugh.

Perhaps he had finally gone insane from all the blows his head had taken over the years.

Yes.

That was the only logical explanation.

Yoon Jong stared at the book in alarm.

'Is this some kind of prank?'

He looked around, half-expecting someone to jump out from behind a tree and announce that he was on a hidden-camera show or something.

Nothing happened.

Which left him with very few possibilities.

Yoon Jong looked down at the book in his hand.

Or rather...

A diary?

Could he even call it that?

Reading someone's private thoughts was a terrible thing to do.

But could it still be called none of his business if it involved him?

Yoon Jong opened the diary again, landing on another completely random page.

He read slowly, like a man trying to cross a minefield without losing any limbs.

[Ancestors above! It's hard living among disgusting men who constantly smell like sweat...]

"Aigoo, everyone sweats after that hellish training without exception..."

Yoon Jong muttered with a frown, sounding almost personally offended by the written complaint. Though it was true that some disciples stink more than others...

Yet his expression soon shifted into confusion as he read the next lines.

[Hmm, that's why Yoon Jong Sahyung is my favorite. Seriously, how can someone smell like soap most of the time without even seeming to try? Even I have to put in effort after all the training we go through!]

Yoon Jong blinked.

Then stared silently for a moment.

A faint shiver ran down his spine.

"Hey! Are you sniffing me now!?"

The diary seemed to be laughing maliciously at him.

The last thing Yoon Jong had expected to discover was that he apparently had a secret admirer, or whatever this was.

He quickly flipped through random pages.

It would not have been an exaggeration to say that his name appeared at least twice on every page.

The compliments varied greatly.

He had been described as handsome nearly twenty times within only a few pages.

Yoon Jong prayed that the owner of this diary wasn't someone he didn't know.

Or someone he did know.

Actually, he wished the diary had never existed at all. Or that he could pretend he had never seen it, put it back where he found it, and continue on his way.

But the thought of someone else finding it and reading it gave him a stomachache.

The problem was that he couldn't think of anyone who would write this.

Yu Iseol?

Impossible.

Tang Soso?

Don't even think about it.

There were three other women among the Baek Generation, but Yoon Jong couldn't remember interacting with any of them much at all.

So he couldn't imagine any of them writing something like this. Actually, from the way this is written, calling him "Sahyung" it's definitely a Sajae of his.

Oh.

Right...

There was also her.

Yoon Jong considered the possibility for a moment.

She was incredibly sweet to him.

In fact, she was probably the sweetest person he had ever met. But wasn't she like that with everyone?

If someone was naturally kind, it was difficult to claim that it meant anything at all.

Yoon Jong let out a helpless chuckle at the mere thought of the possibilities. As if it was absurd.

Yet the faint color blooming across his cheeks betrayed his true feelings.

He would be lying if he said that the idea of her being the writer of this didn't make this entire situation a little easier to accept.

Yoon Jong cleared his throat awkwardly.

Get a grip, man.

What were the odds that a girl like her would have feelings for him?

He wasn't about to embarrass himself by raising his expectations only to end up looking like a delusional fool.

Stuffing the diary into his robes, Yoon Jong hurried back toward the white plum blossom residence.

Something more serious than training awaited him tonight.

Training could survive one night, well, maybe.

He tossed his shoes aside, unusually carelessly for a man as orderly as himself.

Sitting against his pillow, he opened the diary that was directed at him...but not really.

Curiosity gnawed at him as he turned the pages and continued reading.

And yes.

More than once, he cringed from embarrassment while reading what had been written about him.

Because it was so exaggerated. For God's sake!

Seriously, was the writer looking at him through the same eyes as everyone else? Why did all of this sound so absurdly idealized?

Yoon Jong paused at a particular entry and reread it several times.

[My Sahyungs were surprised today when I said that Yoon Jong Sahyung's blossoms were my favorite.]

Blossoms?

Were they talking about plum blossoms? The ones created through sword techniques and qi?

Yoon Jong frowned slightly.

No matter how biased someone was, his sword blossoms were obviously the least distinctive among the others'.

Particularly among the Five Swords.

Even he had long since accepted that fact.

[Everyone kept talking about Baek Cheon Sasuk's and Yu Sago's blossoms. Even Chung Myung's! Honestly... I understand their point of view. Their blossoms are beautiful and very unique.]

Yoon Jong quietly exhaled through his nose, and some of the confusion faded from his face.

Finally.

Something reasonable—

[But every time I get the chance to see Yoon Jong Sahyung's blossoms, I'm reminded of how much ease they make me feel. I don't know why, but they seem more peaceful to me than anyone else's.]

"..."

[If a person's sword techniques are a reflection of their soul, then doesn't Yoon Jong Sahyung have a soul that's comforting to stay beside? I'm not going to pretend I don't like what I like just to agree with others.]

Yoon Jong's lips trembled slightly.

For a moment, it looked as though he were about to say something.

Something like, "What kind of nonsense is this?"

But for some reason, he couldn't.

To continuously deny someone's appreciation makes you more than worthy of contempt.

If these words truly reflected someone's sincere feelings, then Yoon Jong had no right to doubt them simply because he didn't understand them or couldn't return them.

Clearing his throat into his fist, Yoon Jong looked away. Shyness and flattery alike seeped into his cheeks.

His chest felt strangely warm as he slowly accepted the perspective written before him.

—

"Yoon Jong Sahyung! You look exhausted from training again today! Would you like some cold water?"

She approached with a smile bright enough to practically glow.

Yoon Jong looked tiredly at the girl whose smile nearly stretched from ear to ear.

"Ah... I'd appreciate it..."

He accepted the water jug she offered, with his own hands trembling.

Today's training had been brutal.

He had gotten beaten worse than even Baek Cheon. Imagine that.

All because he had been distracted today.

Which was highly unusual for him.

'I mean, who could concentrate after reading all that?'

He could barely interact with anyone.

Every time he spoke to someone, a voice in the darkest corner of his mind whispered:

"What if this person wrote the diary?"

Then his stomach twisted, his blood pressure dropped, and he felt an overwhelming urge to retreat several zhangs backward.

His feet practically itched to run.

'No! Stop it, brain! There's no way it's any of these people!'

That was what he always thought.

If Yoon Jong hoped the writer was anyone...

Then, delusional as it was to admit, he couldn't help hoping it was her.

The girl with the gentle expression glanced toward the men sprawled all over the training grounds.

"By the way, has anyone seen a diary somewhere?"

Yoon Jong nearly choked as cold water accidentally went down the wrong pipe.

From the distance, Jo Gul slowly approached and patted him on the back.

Having barely survived, Yoon Jong stared at the girl with wide eyes.

She hadn't even noticed what happened to him.

Instead, she was receiving a series of negative responses that caused her shoulders to slump.

One disciple asked:

"What does it look like?"

"It's a small book with quite a many pages. Pale yellow too. Nothing particularly distinctive about it."

Yoon Jong barely managed to stop his jaw from falling.

Unfortunately, he couldn't stop the words from escaping his mouth.

"Is it yours?"

She looked at him with a slightly tense expression.

Then she looked away and nudged a pebble with her foot.

He could clearly see the faint blush creeping onto her cheeks.

A blush he had either never noticed before or never considered significant.

"It belongs to someone I know."

'Hey!! That's the most obvious lie I've ever heard!'

Yoon Jong trembled where he stood. But this time, it wasn't because of the hellish training.

It was because of the devastating realization that this girl...

Yoon Jong looked around nervously, trying to compose himself.

Then he flinched and stepped back upon receiving the deeply unimpressed stares of everyone else.

Wait, wait!

What was that supposed to mean!?

Yu Iseol Sago?!

Yoon Jong turned to his right when Jo Gul patted his shoulder. The gesture might have seemed comforting if not for the blank smile on his face. As if he were saying "What exactly do you even use those eyes for, Sahyung?"

Yoon Jong collapsed to his knees under the crushing weight of shame and the piercing stares directed at him.

Like he was a man throwing away perfectly good food while others outside struggled to earn a single meal.

'No, how was I supposed to know!?'

And then, as if some cosmic force took it as a mission, evidence began raining down upon the already exhausted man.

“Sahyung! You're amazing!„

“Sahyung, you look exhausted. Want me to massage your shoulders?„

“Sahyung is good at everything! How lucky will the one be!„

“Sahyung, do you want more meat on your plate?„

“Sahyung! Can we train together?„

'Okay, okay! I get it!'

A dark aura surrounded Yoon Jong as regret consumed him, along with the mocking and exasperated looks from his sasuks and sajaes.

If someone always acted a certain way whenever you were around, you'd naturally assume that was simply their personality.

How were he supposed to know how she behaved when he wasn't around?

Unfortunately, nobody cared about that reasonable fact.

Yoon Jong endured relentless criticism without any ability to defend himself.

A/N: this was so easy to write lol, I finished it in one sitting (if we don't count the time I had to use the toilet). By the way I still think that Chung Myung thinks women get pregnant through kissing cuz that what I thought as a kid lol. Also, I'm so proud of myself for being one of your fave writers hehehhehe <333 thatn you so much!

Enjoy~

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

"Your order's ready!"

The young waitress set down plate after plate of delicious-smelling food onto the table. Chung Myung practically started drooling at the sight, while Tang Bo silently stared between the man seated across from him, the endless dishes still being placed on the table, and the waitress herself, who looked about fifteen or something around that age.

"Anything else for you sirs?"

"Nope! Thanks already!"

Chung Myung answered while stuffing food into his mouth as if he had a personal grudge against it.

"Tsk tsk, the food at the sect is declining at an absurd rate. I'll make sure to throw out that lazy cook..."

"It's not the poor cook's fault... Taoist sects just don't like extravagance when it comes to food."

Chung Myung clicked his tongue without even lifting his head.

"I only live once, but I'm supposed to deny myself the pleasure of eating something good? Convince me."

"Well, I'm not a Taoist, so..."

Tang Bo had absolutely no reason to involve himself in this argument, so he simply saved himself the headache.

A smart and safe choice. Surprisingly mature coming from this man.

Chung Myung stared at Tang Bo for a moment, noticing he still hadn't touched the food yet. He raised a brow.

"Is there a problem?"

"Hmm... it's just..."

Tang Bo stared at him with unusual intensity. Chung Myung almost leaned back, but merely narrowed his eyes instead.

"Spit it out already."

"Hyung-nim... why do you come to this restaurant so often?"

Seeing the suspicious look on Tang Bo's face, Chung Myung blinked dumbly. He glanced at the food, then around the restaurant, before looking back at his friend.

"It's a good restaurant. And if you think the food's bad, you should check whether your mouth is still functioning. Maybe you swallowed poison strong enough to make you unable to realize what good food tastes like."

"It's not that..."

Tang Bo's shoulders noticeably slumped, and he let out a helpless sigh while observing the few customers around them. Everyone seemed focused on their meals aside from a few curious glances here and there. Which was natural, considering the two of them very obviously looked like martial artists, but still...

He looked back at the man in front of him, who continued chewing while waiting for an answer with curious eyes... as if the food would run away if he paused for a second.

Carefully, Tang Bo opened his mouth.

"Just to make sure... Hyung-nim isn't married, right?"

"Ghk! Cough cough coughkghkghk!"

Chung Myung choked on his food and slammed a fist against his chest. Before he could think of reaching for the drink, his elbow knocked over the nearby bottle, spilling its contents across the table before it started dripping onto the floor.

Tang Bo sighed and briefly considered whether he should just let him choke to death. In the end, before the man could actually die, he poured him some alcohol himself and handed it over.

Chung Myung downed it in one gulp and inhaled sharply. Tang Bo looked between the man glaring murderous daggers at him and the waitress approaching while grumbling about the mess he had caused.

"Aigoo!! What's wrong with you all of a sudden?! Asking weird questions out of the blue! Where did that even come from?! You know perfectly well I'm not married!"

"Then... you don't have any children?"

"Where exactly would I get a child from if I'm not married?"

Chung Myung snapped in irritation mixed with confusion while bringing the cup to his lips.

"Hoh..."

Whatever reaction he had expected, it certainly didn't come from Tang Bo like it should be expected.

Chung Myung looked to his right.

The young waitress was staring at him with interest, one hand still holding the cleaning cloth against the wet table, though she had stopped wiping it entirely.

"And here I was wondering how you still had the nerve to keep coming to my mother's restaurant, but turns out you don't even know..."

Chung Myung stared at the girl, who clicked her tongue in a manner that felt disturbingly familiar somehow.

Unusually slowly, he swallowed his drink, needing a moment to process the face before him. She looked familiar. Weirdly familiar.

He kept staring.

The pink eyes. That evaluative gaze. The slight arch of the brows, subtle but undeniably there. Though her face shape was far softer than his.

"PFFFFT-"

Tang Bo closed his eyes as alcohol sprayed directly into his face. He rubbed at his eyelids with his fingertips before staring blankly at the man across from him.

Unlike him, Chung Myung had recoiled in his seat as though he had just seen a ghost. He looked between the young waitress and his friend as if Tang Bo was somehow supposed to explain the situation.

'Ancestors above...'

Patience. He desperately needed patience.

"Hyung-nim... are you sure you don't have a child?"

"W-What kind of nonsense is that!? Impossible! I don't remember having one!"

This time, Chung Myung answered far more defensively, though his eyes kept darting back toward the girl who resembled him to a genuinely unreasonable degree.

"Impossible... no way."

"Mom said you were extremely drunk."

The waitress shrugged as though she had already come to terms with how insane this whole thing sounded. Chung Myung, meanwhile, looked horrified.

"Impossible! I don't remember being drunk enough for that!"

"How would you remember being drunk if you don't remember doing it at all?"

Tang Bo felt a little sorry for Chung Myung, who genuinely looked like his soul was beginning to leave his body.

He glanced nervously at the few customers in the restaurant, afraid they might have heard all this... but that fear vanished and was replaced with a far worse one when he noticed the complete lack of shock on their faces.

As if they had suspected it for a very long time already.

Chung Myung clasped his fists together, elbows resting on the table, his head lowered.

'My life is over.'

Just wait until Chung Mun finds out. Forget the Repentance Cave, he might actually be buried alive at this rate.

"I can't believe you never even bothered looking at my face properly. I've been helping my mother here for five years."

"I just... don't look at mirrors much..."

Chung Myung spoke in a voice that had already lost the will to live. His mind was racing at such horrifying speed that he couldn't even hear whatever the girl was saying to Tang Bo anymore.

Then a voice called out from the kitchen. A woman's voice calling someone's name. The waitress, who had just been painfully revealed to be his daughter, turned toward the kitchen.

"Yes, Mom?"

"Why are you taking so long? There are dishes waiting."

"Coming~"

The girl shot one last mischievous glance toward her dying father, who looked like he was desperately trying to remember when exactly he had done "that" and failing miserably. The curtain swayed behind the little menace as she disappeared into the kitchen.

Then, for a brief moment, a hand pulled the thin curtain aside again.

A woman who looked to be in her late thirties glanced around the restaurant before finally stopping on him.

She stared at him silently for a moment before letting the curtain fall shut once more.

The only thing Chung Myung could think was...

'Oh. I get it now.'

A woman with that face... and if he really had been that drunk, then there was really a possibility...

Chung Myung smiled to himself. It was the smile of a man experiencing profound despair.

Across from him, Tang Bo was still trying to wipe the alcohol off his face with the napkin the girl had handed him so he could at least look somewhat presentable. Though his hair was annoyingly sticky too, but what could he even do about that?

He stared at his friend, who was clearly planning where to spend the rest of his life. Anywhere far away from Chung Mun's sight would probably suffice.

Tang Bo sighed helplessly.

Apparently, not even Chung Myung can 100% survive a beautiful face.

.

.

.

"You! Seriously! It's late already!"

The young woman complained as she stepped out of the kitchen, removing her apron and tossing it onto one of the tables.

She approached the only occupied table left and planted her hands on her hips while tapping her foot against the ground.

"Good grief... do you even know what time it is? I finally understand why people call you a drifter."

She tried shaking him awake by the shoulder, but he merely grumbled stubbornly in response. The woman exhaled irritably and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"If you don't get up right now, I'm never selling you alcohol again."

It was an empty threat. There were plenty of taverns where he could buy alcohol. But for a man this drunk, basic mathematics were already beyond him.

Chung Myung jolted and finally lifted his head. He nearly collapsed face-first onto the table again, but somehow held himself together through the sheer power of alcoholism alone. He stared at her with an expression that was equal parts drunkenness and annoyance.

"You can't. You wouldn't dare."

Seeing a reaction that nothing except alcohol could ever drag out of him, a small amused smile slipped onto her lips.

The restaurant owner leaned in slightly. Not too much, not close at all, but closer than before.

For a man whose head was spinning, that difference was either impossible to notice or catastrophically overwhelming.

"Want to test me, hm~?"

.

.

.

Chung Myung stared up at the starry sky, lying across some cliffside atop one of Mount Hua's peaks. The cool breeze brushed gently against his skin and stirred the trees and tall grass into soft swaying motions.

After countless attempts, he had barely managed to remember...

Even then, his memories faded out at a certain point.

Chung Myung grabbed his face and groaned.

He was genuinely doomed if Chung Mun ever found out about that girl.

'Though the mother seemed really fine...'

"My god!! Shut up! Shut up!!"

Chung Myung repeatedly slapped himself, scolding himself for even thinking that. Though honestly, he wasn't sure why exactly the thought angered him so much.

Maybe because it was yet another piece of evidence proving he really had done it.