TSBIRBV Ch 21

Chapter 21 Grand Ambition (5)

The very next day after sharing his ambitions for the Sichuan journey with Samrang, Yegyeol had a private audience with Haryang.

“Sichuan? Must you really go to such a hot and humid place?”

A trace of concern was visible on Haryang’s face.

“There are a lot of insects. And the food is almost all spicy, not good for your health. They use far too much spice there.”

“You don’t like spicy food, Senior Brother?”

Yegyeol’s eyes widened—he had lived twenty years in South Korea, a land treacherous for anyone with a tender tongue.

In Korea, you could order cream pasta and still end up breathing fire. You might order soy-sauce braised chicken (ganjang jjimdak) only to accidentally bite into a rogue chili pepper that left your tongue numb. At any table, you could expect at least one bright red side dish.

Even Yegyeol, who had grown up with the tolerance of a former street orphan and ate almost anything, found Korean cuisine full of dangerously fiery foods. Compared to that, Sichuan cuisine would feel like coming home.

“If the spices are too strong, you can’t taste the ingredient’s natural flavor.”

Hearing this, Yegyeol swallowed his disappointment. He would have liked to see Haryang’s eyes water from heat—but he had no intention of forcing something on someone who disliked it.

“I’ll stick to food with as little spice as possible.”

Making the promise, he held out his pinky finger. After a moment’s hesitation, Haryang hooked his own around it.

With his guiding-related affections satisfied for the day, Yegyeol smiled like a good, well-behaved disciple.

How can I get Senior Brother to open up to me completely?

First, he had to turn the Qinghai Trading Company into one of the Three Great Trading Guilds of the Central Plains to earn his trust. At the same time, he had to show him maturity and capability. You couldn’t hope for romance with someone who only saw you as a green, inexperienced child.

“And why exactly Sichuan?”

“Qinghai and Gansu are too remote; the flow of goods isn’t significant. But Sichuan has the Tang Clan, one of the Five Great Clans, and is home to Emei Sect (Amaipa) and Qingcheng Sect of the Nine Great Schools. You see?”

Yegyeol’s eyes shone as he added,

“To understand the currents, you have to jump into the big waters.”

“Hmm…”

After silence, Haryang reached out and brushed Yegyeol’s cheek.

“We’d better have you new clothes made—thin, airy ones.”

That was as good as permission. Yegyeol grinned brightly.

“I’ll be really careful.”

“Oh, that reminds me.”

Haryang’s brow furrowed.

“They say Kunlun has been looking for you.”

“Hm.”

“Your martial uncle seems to be losing sleep over you.”

It was clear Haryang was watching his expression as he spoke of Baekyang Jin-in. Yegyeol, unsure how to react, considered acting like the devoted disciple who—out of guilt—preferred Senior Brother’s side.

“…Interesting.”

The dry tone slipped from his lips. It wasn’t an unguarded outburst of resentment.

Baekyang Jin-in himself had said he had personally cremated Yegyeol’s body. And from the fact Haryang didn’t know, it meant Baekyang Jin-in had been hiding that from him.

Very fortunate, indeed.

Yegyeol’s plan was to make Haryang see Baekyang Jin-in as an untrustworthy man.

“I’m sorry. You let me go thinking it would be for my sake, but it turns out I wasn’t the kind of disciple my master could be satisfied with… Seems I’ve only made things awkward for you, Senior Brother.”

“Made things awkward for me?”

“You… wanted me to stay at Kunlun, didn’t you?”

At that time, Je Haryang had quite genuinely cast him off. Not with a feigned coldness, but in earnest—and the wound Yegyeol had felt then had been real.

“I sent you so many letters, but when no reply came… I wondered endlessly if I’d done something to anger you.”

Never having held one of those letters in his hands, Haryang would realize just what a skilled liar Baekyang Jin-in was.

Not going up there to yank out his white beard with my own hands is already the best courtesy I can offer to my master from a past life.

If he ever did return to Kunlun, he intended to plant a lightning strike in that cherished study of his—perhaps in the spirit of “filial piety,” he’d char the man’s precious snowy-white beard, too. Baekyang Jin-in went to a surprising amount of effort to keep that beard pristine—leaving teacup lids open to let the steam seep in, and more…

His lips almost stretched into a wicked smile at the thought, and he quickly bit them and bowed his head.

“Still, I can’t say how grateful I am that, after saying you’d never set foot on sect grounds again, you came to find me, Senior Brother.”

“Gyeol-ah…”

Haryang’s arm came around his shoulders. He caught his chin and tried to tilt his head up, but Yegyeol offered just the barest resistance—enough to show reluctance without turning it into rejection.

“I… this foolish elder brother has wronged you greatly.”

Warm guiding energy flowed into him, like being dropped into the fullness of spring—followed by the gentle soak of spring rain.

“…Senior Brother?”

Peeking up from where he lay in his arms, Yegyeol was startled by the pain shadowing Haryang’s features.

Ah, no—this much effect is dangerous! Seniors!

“I never abandoned you. Truly. Not once. How could I ever let you go?”

“Senior Brother…”

Yegyeol made as if to rise, but now it was Haryang who wouldn’t let go. The embrace was almost suffocating—and deliciously so.

Resting his cheek against that broad chest under the guise of trying to pull away, Yegyeol all but melted. Dangerously so.

“—Ow.”

If Baembeam hadn’t bitten his pinky just then, he might really have pounced on Je Haryang.

When he flinched and hissed, Haryang finally released him—though his gaze, less than pleased, fell to Yegyeol’s wrist.

“Does it hurt much?”

His eyes darkened.

When Baembeam had arrived on Jeokroe’s back with Yegyeol, Haryang had watched over it until its master came. He suspected the white sable fur coat had played no small part in that decision.

Since returning with Yegyeol, he had observed the Millennium Thunder-Horned Python’s unwillingness to leave him, and how it eventually took to curling around his wrist like a bracelet—never once trying to separate them.

“It’s probably just hungry.”

“If it doesn’t seem to mean harm, I suppose it’s fine to keep it—but if it keeps biting you, tell me.”

“What would you do?”

“Teach it not to. So it never bites you again.”

Yegyeol couldn’t help but laugh.

For a “merchant,” Haryang had no interest whatsoever in the fact that this snake was a spiritual treasure sought with burning eyes by all under heaven. At most, he treated it like a pet.

To see something so valuable and never think of selling it meant one of two things—either he was a truly terrible merchant, or he’d never been one in the first place.

A truly terrible merchant wouldn’t have casually handed me something like the Qinghai Trading Company.

He wouldn’t even have had the capability to start such a business.

Right now, Yegyeol was piecing together a very large puzzle—from pieces given by Haryang, some from Jinyoung, and others from Baekyang Jin-in.

The picture was slowly taking shape—but Yegyeol didn’t want to complete it himself.

Senior Brother has to admit it himself, in his own words.

Just as a one-sided crush could only advance once discovered, this relationship could only begin when Haryang decided to reveal his own identity.

As for Yegyeol—he was fully prepared to remain the outstanding liar. The balance, then, had to be matched on Haryang’s end of the scale.

He wanted to be adored without risking anything.

Yegyeol knew it was selfish and shameful.

In 21st-century Korea, fictional heroes came in all forms—ordinary people, espers, sometimes guides. But the villains opposite them were almost always espers. Espers were, by nature, greedy and self-serving.

“Baembeam will behave from now on. Won’t you?”

The golden python bobbed its head like an obedient dog. Haryang’s eyes lingered on the well-trained spirit beast before slowly drawing away.

“Good. Still, I’m reassured for your safety thanks to it.”

He ran his fingers through Yegyeol’s brown hair and went on,

“If you need anything—anywhere, anytime—say so freely. Even if I’m away, Samrang will always be by your side.”

“Speaking of—where is Samrang? I haven’t seen her once since she left saying she’d pass on a message to you.”

At his puzzled tone, a faint curve touched Haryang’s lips.

“She’s gone to see some people she’s known for a while.”

“At this hour?”

“It’s been a long time—they must be glad to see each other.”

“Hmph. And yesterday she was bright and early to work—already late after just one day.”

Haryang’s smile deepened with amusement.

“She said she’d become unemployed. Do you know what she meant?”

Yegyeol’s eyes grew round.

“Unemployed? I never fired her. Oh—right. You still need to see where I work, Senior Brother.”

Practically dragging Haryang by the hand, he led him to his room, pointing proudly at the large-lettered proclamation on his wall.

“How’s that?”

“‘One of the Three Great Trading Guilds of the Central Plains’? Sounds like I can step back from the front lines and just trust my disciple now.”

The smile on Haryang’s lips was warm enough to melt, and Yegyeol was struck—he had never imagined this handsome man’s face, usually so cold, could look like sunlit spring.

“Do whatever you like—pursue whatever you want.”

The weight of affection came through in the hand that ruffled his hair.

“Just stay healthy—and within my sight.”

Footnotes:

• Amaipa (아미파, 峨嵋派) — Emei Sect, one of the Nine Great Schools (구파일방/九派一幇) in wuxia/murim settings, historically associated with Mount Emei.

• Qingcheng Sect (청성파, 青城派) — another of the Nine Great Schools, historically associated with Mount Qingcheng.

• Three Great Trading Guilds of the Central Plains (중원삼대상단) — the top three most prestigious and influential merchant guilds in the martial world’s central regions.