OGHOU C13

Chapter 13

 

Muho was so exhausted that he slept for two full days.

Thanks to that, Cheongyeon gave up his own room and stayed in a vacant guestroom. Since cultists had been rampaging through the whole neighborhood, stirring up an ominous atmosphere, maybe it was for the best that Muho stayed asleep.

Cheongyeon left water and some light snacks beside the bed, unsure when Muho would wake. He also neatly folded the new clothes he had bought and placed them off to one side.

In martial arts worlds, fifteen is considered practically an adult. Still, this made him feel like he was watching over a child.

Looking down on Muho’s sleeping face, Cheongyeon gently brushed the scar near his left eye with his finger.

He thought if Muho grew up more, he would be a stunningly handsome man. But that scar crossing his eye troubled him deeply. Was there no way to erase an old scar? As he pondered,

“Take your hand off.”

A deep voice seeped through Muho’s parted lips.

“Oh, you’re awake?”

Startled, Cheongyeon withdrew his hand as Muho’s eyes fluttered open. The dazed gaze looked up at him.

“Feeling a bit more alert now? You slept for two whole days.”

“You didn’t poison my food, did you?”

Cheongyeon gritted his teeth, irritated by the ungrateful accusation right after waking up.

Hold it together. Don’t act like a kid.

“I heard cultists tore through the entire neighborhood while you were asleep.”

Muho frowned, pushing himself up.

“Are they still here?”

“They disappeared last night. Looks like they moved on.”

Cheongyeon handed Muho a water bowl. He was probably just too kind for his own good—showing compassion to a villain who threatened his life, offering his clothes and nursing him with care.

But it wasn’t purely sympathy. If Muho didn’t become cult leader, they both lived, along with countless lives in the Central Plains. Cheongyeon’s survival instinct, mixed with some feeble sense of justice, screamed to stop Muho’s descent into darkness.

“There are fresh clothes over there. Change and come down. I’ll prepare some food. There are a few guests, but it should be fine now.”

Muho hesitated, then replied,

“No thanks. I’m leaving.”

“Leaving? Where? Right now?”

What if he got caught wandering alone? Flooded with worry, Cheongyeon bombarded him with questions, but Muho turned away, clearly annoyed.

“Do you have anywhere to go? Money?”

“What’s that to you?”

“What do you mean what’s that to me?! I’ve cared for you since you were a kid. That little one who came to give herbs to his mother…”

“Shut up.”

Yeah, that was a bit much, even for him. Cheongyeon flushed and cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Anyway. Even if you leave, rest some more first. Only go when you’re sure it’s safe. I won’t let you get caught.”

“Fine…”

“Change your clothes and come down. I fried a ton of meat for you.”

“……”

Food was the right choice, after all.

Muho came down to the dining hall after about ten bites. Judging by how well the clothes seemed to fit, Cheongyeon felt a bit proud.

He called to him, and Haeryeong, who had come over to take orders, looked on curiously.

“Who’s that? I don’t recognize him.”

“He’s my cousin. Say hi.”

“Huh? The innkeeper’s got a cousin?”

“If I say so, then I do.”

Muho showed no interest in the conversation and stared off at the distant mountains. Haeryeong inspected him up and down.

“He looks scary.”

“Saying that to his face… haha…”

Had Haeryeong read the original novel, she would never have dared such disrespect. Cheongyeon glanced at Muho, relieved he didn’t seem to mind much.

“Anyway, he’ll stay here for a while, so remember that. His name is Cheon…”

“Sibchil.”

Just as Cheongyeon was about to say Muho’s name, Muho cut in.

Huh? Didn’t he dislike being called that? Maybe it still felt strange to be called by his real name.

“It’s Sibchil.”

“Cheon Sibchil? That’s a weird name.”

“……”

Better send Haeryeong back to work before she accumulates more bad karma. If they weren’t careful, Muho might end up tortured too.

Cheongyeon gestured for Haeryeong to get back to work, then turned to Muho, who was still distracted.

“You’re the same age. Try to be friends. Having a friend helps.”

“……”

“Come on. I’ll even introduce you to our inn’s cook.”

Ignoring a faint sigh from Muho, Cheongyeon led him toward the kitchen. Haewoo, who was prepping ingredients, shot a casual glance their way.

“Haewoo! This is my cousin. His name is…”

“What about that handprint?”

Haewoo nodded toward the wall, where Muho’s handprint from that night’s struggle remained.

“Should we call someone to fix it?”

“No, it’s the kitchen. What does it matter? His name is…”

“A little bit of missing carrot.”

“Yes. I’ll go buy some later. Anyway, he is…”

“We’re overwhelmed with orders.”

“……”

Guess Haewoo wasn’t interested either. Cheongyeon’s enthusiasm was the only one fired up here. He felt downcast to see Muho so ignored.

“This was made by Haewoo. He’s better than me at cooking.”

Muho stared down at a steaming bowl of pork stir-fry, then ate a spoonful.

“How is it? Good?”

Reluctantly, Muho nodded. Whatever sulking he’d done vanished instantly, replaced by bright eyes filled with anticipation.

Compared to the food he’d been eating until now, this was far superior. Still, it didn’t quite match the meal he’d had the day he arrived. Maybe because he wasn’t as hungry now.

“Don’t you really want friends? They say those folks are nice. Try getting along with them.”

“No need.”

Why he kept talking nonsense was beyond Muho. Annoying.

Cheongyeon’s suspicions toward the innkeeper lessened. He was odd and bothersome, yes, but if he had meant harm, something terrible would have happened while Muho was sleeping. Instead, he had cared for him like a child.

In any case, Muho was leaving soon. There was no reason to grow attached here. He’d travel far this time. Maybe even leave the Central Plains behind.

So he would eat this one last meal, then go.

Going…

Had to go…

“Try this too.”

“Hmm…”

“How is it? How is it?”

“The texture’s okay, but it’s too sweet.”

“Really? I’ll make it less sweet. Wait here!”

Watching Cheongyeon rush busily between kitchen and dining hall, Muho rubbed his forehead.

He had decided to leave days ago—why was he still here? Even giving this detailed taste test.

‘Want to have some fun creating new dishes, wanna help?’

‘Menu? What’s that?’

Was it the innkeeper’s hand ruffling his hair? Or had he grown soft, settling into a comfortable life with steady food and shelter? Or was there some kind of spell that kept him rooted here?

Muho massaged his throbbing head as Cheongyeon brought another plate out.

‘At this rate, I’m gonna get fat.’

Just then, a thunderous shout crashed through the inn, followed by the sound of breaking plates.

“Ahh!”

A burly man threw a punch at another. The middle-aged victim collapsed, trembling and screaming sharply.

“I told you I’m paying back! Just wait a little longer!”

“Yeah, right! The gambling addict who sold his wife and kids trying to repay now!”

Amidst the senseless violence, the man’s shrill cries echoed. Spectators gathered, whispering in a circle.

Not interested. Used to watching fights, Cheongyeon rested his chin on his hand, staring out the window, waiting for the commotion to end. Then Haeryeong appeared and said,

“Wow, I can’t believe the Jang family really is terrible.”

Muho ignored her lightly. Having gotten to know her for a few days, he found the friendly chatter awkward. The innkeeper told him to make friends, but he felt no need for that.

Regardless of his wishes, Haeryeong kept explaining.

“The guy getting beaten is Jang. He’s a notorious drunkard. Started gambling young, lost the family fortune, and sold his wife and kids.”

“……”

“But he borrowed money again. Looks like this time he’s really in trouble.”

So what now? Muho didn’t reply.

“He always came here to drink with borrowed money and gamble. Serves him right. Hey, looks like the innkeeper’s trying to stop him?”

Hearing that, Muho turned sharply. Through the crowd, he saw Cheongyeon heading toward the scene.

It seemed the only place to fight in this wide land was the inn. After a brief lull, the chaos started again. There were children around—he couldn’t stand to watch.

Cheongyeon stepped between Jang, now beaten to a pulp, and the attacker.

“What the hell is this?”

“I won’t let this happen in my establishment. Settle it with words, or get out.”

“Hah, what a joke.”

A man twice Cheongyeon’s size sneered and swung a punch. He dodged just in time but fell hard.

Damn, that hurt.

People here seemed to go mad en masse, throwing punches at the slightest excuse. It was infuriating.

As he caught his breath, cries from the crowd caught his attention.

“Muho…?”

Muho had stepped in, pounding the larger man into submission. With unarmed strikes, he quickly felled the man twice his size, then viciously kicked him again.

With every kick, bones snapped with cracking sounds that sent chills down witnesses’ spines. His expression was blank, movements coldly efficient.

Spectators backed away in fear; even Haeryeong went pale.

“No!”

Come to his senses, Cheongyeon grabbed Muho, who was about to continue, clutching his aching back. If Muho killed the man, it would be a disaster. He mustn’t be dragged into chaos.

Muho looked at Cheongyeon once more. The calmness on his face after recent violence sent a chill down Cheongyeon’s spine. He shook his head desperately.

“Stop. Enough.”

“……”

“That’s enough now…”

Muho shrugged off Cheongyeon’s hand, grabbed the man’s collar, and dragged him outside.

“Urgh… my leg… please…”

The man dragged himself away on a broken leg.

Silence fell over the crowd and inn. Dozens of eyes focused on Muho.

He returned as if nothing had happened and muttered to the stunned Cheongyeon,

“I earned my meal.”

Who pays for a meal like that?