TSBIRBV Ch 47

Chapter 47 An Ill-fated Relationship (4)

“It must be about the Tang Clan of Sichuan.”

“You are most astute.”

At her flattery, Yegyeol only squinted at the Jiaolong King.

Really? The moment you set foot on deck, you swung your Dragon Chain and demanded Tang appear. Not something so easily forgotten…

The memory of Tang’s green banner torn down alongside the mast still lingered in his mind.

“As you might have suspected, the one who betrayed me—my former lover—was from the Tang Clan.”

“Tang Seoak. So that’s why you sought him.”

Yegyeol made a noise of dismay. It explained why she had cried his name in fury.

In Jianghu, grudges and ties of love and hate were worth life itself. Especially for someone of the Jiaolong King’s standing: the one who betrayed her and cost her the arm that was a warrior’s lifeblood dared still to parade under her nose on the Yangtze. She would never let it pass.

Thus, Tang Seoak had easily drawn her rage for his own designs. He knew the wounded boar would charge the moment its hated hunter showed his face.

“What did Tang Seoak gain from betraying you?”

“The clan master’s trust.”

For a heartbeat, Yegyeol thought he saw sorrow in Yeon Sosho’s eyes, but it passed too swiftly to grasp.

He recalled Seoak leading a mere escort master to a brothel simply to burnish his profile. A man desperate to cement his position.

“Tang Seoak himself did not follow here. From safety in Sichuan, he just watches to see if his schemes unfold.”

“I’ve confirmed Tang Eonbo leads their force. She’s Seoak’s new purse-string. Once she’s tied up and chained, Seoak will feel the fire under him.”

The Jiaolong King smiled, predator-dark.

So she had thought it all through—knew Seoak’s relations and the state of things in Sichuan.

“You mean Tang Seoak threw his own cousin, such a valuable asset, out as bait?”

As Yegyeol clicked his tongue, Samrang replied softly:

“If it weren’t someone like Tang Eonbo, even Yeon-mae here wouldn’t have moved herself.”

“Indeed. It was only after word spread of Tang Eonbo on the riverbanks that I sent my river stockades raiding.”

The Jiaolong King admitted outright she was behind the repeated attacks.

“Why?”

“To wear their strength thin… and to make Tang Seoak tremble.”

Obsession. Desire. Resentment. Hatred.

Everything but affection had been stripped from her gaze.

And yet, Yegyeol thought, she was saner than most. Some never accepted when things ended; she strode out herself to draw the line.

“That man will never give you what you wanted. If he simply survives long enough, one day the Yangtze Alliance will change hands.”

Unlike the orthodox sects, the unorthodox shifted leaders quickly. Anyone sitting at the top was like a bloody fish surrounded by sharks. Rules and honor meant less than appetite. Bonds appeared sometimes, blooming like flowers in drought, but never lasted.

“While I draw breath, that wretch will never leave Sichuan.”

She laughed bitterly.

“Having failed to deliver my head to Tang’s master, unable to even leave Sichuan—eventually, his own ambition will drive him out. For all that he acts patient, Seoak has no talent for waiting.”

“You know him well.”

“I knew him a decade.”

Samrang intruded breezily, “An ill-fated tie, really.”

Ill fate.

“Give me time,” Yegyeol said slowly, “and I’ll think of a way to deal with him.”

“You would help me because of your bond with my lord?”

“No. Because I want to trade in Sichuan without extortionate thugs demanding ‘protection fees’ every time I put down a stall.”

Yegyeol shrugged.

Perhaps it was temperament, but men like Tang Seoak irked him more than true villains. Slipping contracts in Tang’s favor, pocketing the credit for others’ work — unworthy.

Trying to siphon from my Senior Brother’s trading company?

He mused instead how best to roast Seoak until he popped like popcorn, when suddenly the ship shook hard.

The door slammed open.

“My Lady! Martial artists are attacking!”

“In the middle of the river?”

“They’ve spread villagers’ boats like steppingstones to cross onto us!”

“Bold men. With skills greater than boldness too…”

Yeon Sosho was unruffled though her ship was under attack.

“The Azure Sky Flying Corps…!”

Yegyeol’s face paled.

“The Azure Corps? So that explains it… that Namgung heir wandering alone.”

Samrang shook her head.

“When they’re all aboard, sink those steppingstones and drive this ship into the river center. Attack then.”

Her tone promised drowning.

“Yes!”

“They came fast. I expected pursuit of Namgung.”

“Well, it’s been over a century since the Five Greats saw such a genius.”

“Namgung Un is that great?” Yegyeol asked.

Samrang answered swiftly:

“They call him the Thunder-Sworded Dragon, Namgung Un. The brightest of today’s prodigies among the ‘One Dragon, Three Tigers, Two Phoenixes.’”

“Thunder-Sworded Dragon…”

“At the youngest age, he won the Yongbong Gathering. Tales of his chivalry spread endlessly, both in Jianghu and among common folk. It’s said Namgung expands its reach because of him.”

It was as if she were describing Je Haryang in his late-disciple years.

“So Namgung Un is the hottest prodigy now.”

After decades away, Yegyeol knew none of the new stars. He could only imagine earlier comrades becoming the Ten Masters.

Like recalling old idols who once topped charts, but no longer knowing today’s hits.

“Once they listed Three Dragons, Three Tigers, Four Phoenixes.”

It sounded like some mixed idol group.

The orthodox sects’ top three male disciples, plus the Five Families’ top three, made the Six. The “Four Phoenixes” were the brightest young female fighters.

“And yet a ‘Dragon’ now in Namgung? Wasn’t dragon reserved for a Nine Sect heir?”

“It means a tiger may leap, but a dragon flies above.”

“Ah. Fashion changes, I suppose…”

He sighed. Being reincarnated had left him outdated, struggling with Jianghu’s newest trends.

“In my day there were ten famous prodigies. Now only six? Has Jianghu become barren?”

He knew he sounded like an old man complaining, but curiosity burned.

“Heroes appear in times of chaos,” Samrang murmured, expression strange. Yegyeol nodded.

The times had soured even before Kunlun’s fall. The Nine Sects and Five Families sniped at one another, famine and flood made brigands of peasants, the unorthodox grew bold, rumors of the Demonic Cult’s resurgence spread.

“I’d like Tang Seoak dragged down a peg.”

He spoke toward Samrang, but the Jiaolong King answered:

“Tang’s honor won’t let them cast him away. I cannot leave the river, so he leans on that, unchallenged.”

Her strength was the Yangtze itself; if she left, rival river chiefs would devour her holdings.

“He must be abandoned by Tang itself.”

Seoak may have been clever, exploiting old grudges and even wagering Tang Eonbo. But he hadn’t counted on Yegyeol.

“We need an event large enough to topple all he’s built.”

“You wouldn’t offer that help for nothing. What do you ask in return?”

Even lured by vengeance, the Jiaolong King remained sharp. Where before she had bowed politely as to her lord’s benefactor, now she spoke as an equal.

“When we cross the Yangtze, grant my caravans safe passage under your Alliance. And lower the toll a little.”

Yegyeol extended his hand.

“Well? Is that worth your favor?”

She smiled faintly and clasped his hand, firm as a sailor’s grip.

“Gladly given.”

Their hands locked like an arm-wrestle. Yegyeol shook once.

“Then I’ll count that as your word.”