TSBIRBV Ch 40

Chapter 40 Namgung Un (5)

Yegyeol changed clothes and stepped down from the carriage. The fresh scent of water hit his face, and his eyes lit up.

“There’s no fishy smell, at all.”

“You mean the river stench?” Samrang asked.

He nodded. With his sharpened senses of smell, even faint odors often turned overwhelming. Yet here, the air wasn’t acrid, the sun’s heat on his cheeks wasn’t painfully harsh, and not even a dull headache lingered. The cries of workers hefting crates sounded almost cheerful.

So this is how the world feels to normal people.

Had he never known otherwise, he might not have minded. But as an esper, life for Yegyeol had always felt like walking barefoot on hot metal.

“The Yangtze’s waters don’t stagnate.”

Samrang cast a glance across the proud flow of the river. Yegyeol’s appearance outside — unusual, since he rarely left his lodging except at arrival — drew gazes from all around. A Yipseon Sect disciple seemed ready to approach, but Yegyeol stayed back, letting Samrang step ahead while he took in the view of the docks.

Among the bustle, the green-clad figures of Tang Clan stood out. Tang Eonbo and her cohort packed into smaller boats, splitting to scout ahead.

“Tang says they’ll depart first, comb where pirates most often lurk. Also, they’ve given us a flag in case.”

Samrang’s quiet voice relayed the message, likely through sound transmission earlier. With Tang’s green banner displayed, most ruffians would steer clear.

“Diligent of them.”

“They need to salvage their honor somehow.”

The great Tang Clan didn’t normally volunteer for vanguard duty. But Eonbo’s reason was plain: erasing the stain of their prior failure.

“Why such a grave face, Samrang?”

“Boats are dangerous. No escape route.”

She spoke seriously. Yegyeol nodded vaguely, chalking it up to occupational hazard. In his past life, bodyguards had only seemed cool — now he saw how finicky a job it was.

“True. Even masters on water struggle against river pirates.”

His face was serene. Anyone else might fret, but he alone trusted his ability to protect himself in a crisis.

“Let’s board.”

“You’re really fearless…”

Shaking her head, Samrang followed as he strode up the gangplank.

“Depart!”

With a booming cry, the watermen pushed the boat from dock.

Like an eager child, Yegyeol leaned at the rails, gazing everywhere. Samrang frowned — despite his boasts of motion sickness, he seemed perfectly fine.

“You said it was bad for you.”

“I… thought it would be.”

He dodged her eyes. Not long ago, he had feared nausea. Yet after time with Je Haryang — not sharing anything intense, simply holding hands, being embraced — his body felt markedly different.

“You should go inside.”

“Just a little longer. Really, just a bit.”

He knew he wouldn’t linger outside forever. Baembeam, hidden in his sleeve, needed air and playtime. And Samrang’s urging was partly more warning about pirates.

But for now, he wanted to stay.

Along the riverside, reeds swayed like dancers in the breeze, sunlight dancing over rippled waters. High sails beat proudly against the wind, Tang’s green flag aloft, fluttering like a banner of triumph.

He shut his eyes. Sunlight, footsteps creaking against planks, the hush of water’s push, birdsong carried faint with chatter through the wind…

Beautiful.

For the first time, the world felt right — as if he had reclaimed a life that was always his. The joy of new senses, sharpened, turned his thoughts inevitably to who was absent.

Senior Brother.

His heart ached; in Sichuan, in Qinghai, Je Haryang was far away. Suddenly the scene dulled.

“…Let’s go inside.”

He let the longing slip and followed Samrang toward the cabin.

Inside, he released Baembeam into a basin brought by Samrang. The snake glanced up briefly, then slid into the water. Swimming lively, it slapped its tail and splashed him lightly. Yegyeol chuckled and stroked its brow. Tickled by his touch, Baembeam lolled its head back, pink tongue flickering.

Brought out of necessity, the spirit beast was gradually stealing his heart.

When it finished, Yegyeol wiped his wet hand, laughing at its clumsy attempts to help lick him dry. Charming — but hardly useful.

“No pirate trouble yet. Smooth sailing.”

“Good. Any word from Tang ahead?”

“Nothing. They promised signal flares if trouble. Still silent.”

“Perhaps this time passes without incident…”

Baembeam climbed back up his arm, scales cool. Stroking it absently, he listened as Samrang spoke.

“Not going out again?”

Moments ago, he’d been gleeful like a puppy meeting snow. Now his voice was flat as stone:

“I’ll come back with Senior Brother.”

Such strange brothers they were, she thought, shaking her head.

BOOM!

The ship jolted as something struck its hull. Yegyeol swayed but steadied himself before Samrang could help.

“Attack!”

“River pirates!”

“Oh.”

His reply was more amused than tense. Samrang shoved him back, striding to the door, eyes sharp as she listened.

“…Not a large force.”

“You’ll join in?”

“No. I’ll remain hidden. Let others take the glory.”

She gestured subtly upward. These were precisely what he had hired Yipseon and Okhyeong for.

“Interesting.”

His lips quirked. If Tang’s vanguard had scouted properly, how had pirates struck anyway?

The Yangtze is wide. Pirates cunning. They surely avoided Tang’s martial-only boats.

He chuckled, already guessing their excuses.

The clash outside drew out fast, then settled.

“…Seems over.”

Samrang beckoned him. On deck, bound pirates lined one side, Okhyeong disciples keeping them in check while sailors worked.

“Hmm.”

Yegyeol frowned faintly; something was off.

“No dead?”

Indeed — one Yipseon disciple sported bandaged arms, but no fatalities on either side. Even among pirates, no one bore mortal wounds.

“…Killing is easier than sparing.”

In combat, protecting life proves harder than ending it. Without overwhelming power, sparers lose to fighters, fighters to killers. Yet here, all survived.

“At least all are safe,” Samrang said. The caravan leader cried in elation:

“Okhyeong Sect has earned us a great debt!”

Face pale, voice blustered as he recounted:

“A hook coiled my ankle, dragged me toward water! I thought death certain — but an Okhyeong hero swooped in, severed the rope like a ghost’s blade!”

They looked down: indeed, a dark-stained iron hook lay on deck, painted to gleam less in sunlight. Perfectly designed to snare the unwary.

“Not only that — they rallied all noncombatants to the center, shielding us while driving pirates away. Without them, chaos might have slaughtered us in droves.”

Listening, Yegyeol’s curiosity rose. In Jianghu, common folk’s lives were worth little more than flies. Yet Okhyeong disciples had prioritized their defense. Little wonder Emei’s branch was respected.

“Without them, we’d have lost everything,” the man finished, eyes shining like stars.

Yegyeol blinked.

Ah. That gaze.

It was the look of a child meeting their cartoon hero made flesh.

Footnotes:

• Yangtze River (장강) — great river central to many trade and martial tales, rife with pirates. 
• Signal flares — common in Jianghu for coordinated long-distance alerts.