OGHOU C21

Chapter 21

 

The height of summer had arrived.

With the sweltering heat, even the slightest movement left clothes damp and clinging. Cheongyeon chose the thinnest fabric to wear and perched on the bed, fanning himself with fervor.

He had flung open every window to let air circulate, but the wind itself was hot and useless. At times like this, he missed the modern air conditioner with a desperate ache. Forget air conditioning—had there been even an electric fan, he would have prostrated himself before modern science.

Even with a naturally lower body temperature than others, heat was heat. He wilted like cabbage in a simmering hotpot. Unless one had trained as a martial artist, there was no escaping this oppressive weather. It made him envy Muho, who seemed unaffected by both cold and heat.

Just then, someone knocked at the door.

“Come in.”

The door opened slowly, and Muho cautiously poked his head in, only entering after scanning the room. Considering how, until recently, he had kicked the door and barged in as he pleased, this was practically a reformation.

He used to barge in without a hint of presence even when Cheongyeon was changing or bathing, then storm back out feigning outrage, as if assaulted by an indecent sight. Boys that age tended to embarrass easily over the smallest things.

In any case, though he still had his temper at times, seeing how much more docile he had grown compared to the beginning made Cheongyeon oddly proud. At this rate, perhaps he really could be raised into a proper young man.

Then both he and countless lives in the Central Plains would be spared, and in the end, even Muho would be saved. Jeha would suffer far less and live sweetly in love with his master.

“What are you thinking about so hard?”

“About you.”

“……”

“About how best to raise you right.”

“Ridic—”

Muho’s face stiffened, and he perched beside Cheongyeon. His eyes drifted to the fan fluttering frantically.

“Why did you call me?”

“Fan me with this.”

Cheongyeon thrust the fan into Muho’s hand. When else to make use of his only disciple, if not now?

“With this pathetic thing…?”

“Just do it. You’re not hot. I’m about to die.”

Muho eyed the fan with displeasure, then reluctantly took it. So it wasn’t just wishful thinking—he truly had become more compliant.

“A little higher.”

“……”

“Higher. Yes, there. Good.”

Whether it was his strength or simply the rhythm, the fanning was excellent. Feeling the wind slip between thin cloth and chest, Cheongyeon closed his eyes. The cool air sluiced in and even lifted his spirits.

“Harder.”

“……”

“More… more…”

“……”

“Mm, just like tha—”

“Cut it out!”

Muho finally snapped, hurling the fan across the room. It flew as if to pin itself in the wall, then struck and snapped. Cheongyeon stared blankly at the ragged fan sprawled on the floor.

“Are you trying to destroy all the household goods…?”

“Who told you to ask for stupid things.”

“Fine… my fault.”

Indeed, asking for fanning in summer had been his mistake.

He pointed with his chin to the stack of books on the table.

“I thought we’d need new books, so I brought some. Take them and study. You’ve been neglecting it lately.”

“What’s it to you.”

“What do you mean, ‘what’s it to me’? Told you—study changes your life. Even if you leave here someday, knowing how to read makes life far easier.”

He had intended to launch into a full speech on the importance of literacy, but the moment he saw Muho’s face, he lost his next words. A pair of black eyes gazed at him steadily, more serious than ever, and his tongue stalled.

‘Am I being too much of an old nag?’

But what came out of Muho’s mouth was unexpected.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“Huh?”

“Do you wish I’d go…?”

“……”

The question took him off guard, and Cheongyeon fell into thought.

It had been tossed off without much thought.

He had grown so used to Muho being here that he had forgotten—Muho had wanted to leave from the very beginning.

In that light, his notions about “raising him right” were all futile. If Muho said he would go, there was no justification to stop him.

He was still quite young, but in a martial world, that age was nearly an adult. No matter the worry, he couldn’t just hold him back as he pleased.

That thought depressed him for reasons he couldn’t name.

After some struggle, Cheongyeon spoke carefully.

“I just want you to live how you want. Don’t mind others.”

“……”

“If you want to go, I won’t stop you.”

Muho, too, fell silent at the vague answer. The heavy air felt awkward, and Cheongyeon sprang up.

“Anyway, take the books. That’s why I called you. I’ll head to the market with Haewoo.”

Then Muho snatched his wrist. Those black eyes looking straight into him made him curious.

“Why?”

“What about me?”

“What about you?”

“Why won’t you go with me?”

“You should study. Need anything from the market? I’ll get it.”

“I can do it after—”

“Do it now. No putting it off.”

Speaking firmly, Cheongyeon pried his hand off. The large hand fell weakly.

“Study. I’ll cook something good for dinner.”

“…Don’t need it.”

“You say that, but you’ll eat it.”

He was about to head out with money when he remembered something and turned back. Muho still sat on the bed, staring out the window.

“Right. Don’t carry that great blade around. If anyone sees, they’ll get suspicious—keep it in the room.”

“Not carrying it.”

“Good. That’s a good boy. Did you name it yet?”

At the question, Muho nodded silently.

“What’s the name?”

“Not your concern.”

“…Right. Then the one who doesn’t need to know will be off to market.”

In truth, there was no need to ask. No one knew better than he what name Muho would give the great blade. No doubt he’d call it Hyunwoldo.

Leaving him behind, Cheongyeon stepped out, unaware of what would happen while the inn was briefly unattended.

With Haeryeong, instead of the busy Haewoo who was tied up with kitchen cleanup, he headed to the market. Though fresh ingredients were delivered every morning, in this heat even the finest produce wilted quickly, so he meant to buy a bit more for the dinner shift.

“Don’t know why Haewoo works so hard. Even when told to take it easy, he won’t rest.”

“That’s just how my brother is. He’s been used to working since he was young to feed me.”

Haeryeong spoke plainly of their past.

“I don’t even remember our parents’ faces. My memory starts with us wandering place to place, and my brother was always busy working. He’d take my hand and go house to house, doing odd jobs for a single rice cake. He’d give me the whole thing and say, ‘I’m full with just one bite.’ I believed him back then.”

“You’ve both had it rough.”

“I didn’t, really. I just watched him work all day and got rice cakes. I should’ve gotten my act together sooner.”

“What do you mean, sooner? You’re fifteen. Working like that at fifteen is already impressive.”

“Then raise my pay.”

“Uh…”

“You said it’s impressive. You’ll raise it, right?”

“Alright… I’ll raise it.”

Having negotiated successfully, Haeryeong smiled brightly. Cheongyeon, shaking his head at her pluck, smiled too.

“Oh, about Sibchil… the innkeeper’s cousin.”

“Mm? What about him?”

“Isn’t he a bit strange?”

Strange things about him weren’t exactly few. Pretending ignorance, Cheongyeon asked what seemed strange.

“Usually he ignores me entirely and pretends not to hear when I talk to him. But the moment I try to go to you, he shows up and starts talking.”

“What does he say?”

“Stuff like, ‘A customer’s asking for you,’ or ‘I think an order’s wrong.’ That sort of thing. Then when I go check, the customer says no such thing happened.”

“Really? That is odd.”

“You know he’s not interested in inn work. I kept an eye on it, wondering why, and noticed he does it only when I’m about to talk to you.”

“Eh, coincidence. Why would he do that?”

“It’s true. It’s like he’s trying to wedge himself between me and you. Anyone would think he’s not your cousin but a hidden lover.”

“A… lover…”

Please don’t throw around words like that in a BL world. That’s how rumors take root.

“Anyway, he’s weird. He looks scary and has a nasty temper.”

Talking as they arrived at the market, the two began selecting the vegetables they needed. After some time in quiet concentration, Haeryeong suddenly remembered something.

“But he writes really well, though.”

“Who? Sibchil?”

“Yes. I peeked while he was studying—his calligraphy’s as good as a master’s.”

“……”

So he’d been holding the brush wrong on purpose? Just to bother him?

“Maybe because he learned from you—his handwriting looks exactly the same. Did you know?”

“I… ha ha… didn’t.”

The insolent brat. Once they got back, he’d get another dose of scolding, Cheongyeon decided.

That was when it happened. With an ear-splitting roar, the entire world began to tremble.

Footnotes

• Hyunwoldo (현월도, “Dark Moon Blade”): The great blade Muho is known to name in later canon; a fearsome weapon associated with demonic energy and overwhelming destructive power in martial narratives.