TSBIRBV Ch 49

Chapter 49 An Ill-fated Relationship (6)

“…Hostages? Ah!”

Samrang caught his meaning at once and clicked her tongue.

“So they intend to escalate.”

“The Jiaolong King only brought a single ship. They must fear what she might have told us… If she herself acts, the name Tang Seoak rises on the chopping block. Then it becomes obvious who endangered this caravan.”

And once the blame was clear, there would be no hiding.

“Besides, a man that ambitious would never abandon the Yangtze.”

For all its dangers, no one in this age could forgo control of the river. With no airplanes or trains, merchants and common folk who knew no martial skills relied on it. Even martial artists could not always spend their limited inner strength running by lightness skill across mountains. The Yangtze was the artery of the Central Plains.

If Tang’s clan master had to choose between a man who could reach his destination in five days or another who needed over ten, he would not hesitate.

“I underestimated Tang Seoak.”

Yegyeol clicked his tongue. More precisely, he had underestimated the web of grudges and powers around the man.

“Hm. So, what do we do?”

“What else? We sit quietly and watch the show.”

Indeed, Seoak’s scheme was ingenious. In one move, he removed his rivals, ensured no witnesses remained, and reignited an old enmity. He broke the taboo of trespassing on the Yangtze, and in the process set the stage to make his reputation boom. He had arranged a feast whose profits would sate him for half a year.

But there was one factor he had not counted on: Mun Yegyeol.

“No matter how clever Tang Seoak is, he cannot silence Namgung Un.”

On the far side, Un would fight with all he had. Already, he had chosen to sacrifice Yegyeol once for the greater good. Now, with the Azure Corps at his back, Namgung power would rise further.

“…And Namgung’s strength is unusually high these days,” Samrang muttered.

“Indeed. I never expected their direct heir to join this caravan. Bad luck for Tang Seoak, this year.”

Yegyeol smiled. For all his delicate beauty, the smile was chilling.

“So then I need do nothing at all?”

The Jiaolong King, who had been listening silently, asked.

“Of course not. For the moment, you keep us ‘kidnapped’ and prepare for war.”

She narrowed her eyes at that.

“Hmm.”

“I expect Seoak has already suborned one or two minor stockades of your Alliance,” Yegyeol added.

“I haven’t known him long, but he isn’t the type to pick a fight with you unprepared. His ultimate aim is clear — to drag you down from your throne.”

“Feign an honorable duel, but in truth plant betrayal. Yes. That is very like him.”

“Do you suspect anyone?”

“There are always aspiring heirs, waiting to supplant me. Devouring and being devoured — that is the nature of the unorthodox.”

Yeon Sosho smiled coldly, and the stench of blood steeped her.

“Return to the Jiaolong Outpost!” she thundered, inner power resounding across the deck. At once her men scattered to tasks.

As the ship moved into the current, Yegyeol muttered gloomily:

“All this means our cargo will be contraband once again.”

Though the thought of seeing his Senior Brother again sent joy fluttering, he could not ignore how—ever since he had taken Qinghai’s reins—the last two Sichuan caravans had both been hijacked.

“So much for making honest trade.”

“…Honest?” Samrang interjected slyly, but Yegyeol ignored her with a turn of his head.

“There’s still time before matters ripen. Let’s go look at those jujube trees.”

“You really don’t rest, do you?”

“We must make Qinghai the greatest trading guild in all under heaven.”

Talking so lightly of such ambition, when he and Samrang spoke on deck, the Jiaolong King’s head snapped. Her keen martial senses caught every word, but she simply could not understand:

Why make Qinghai the greatest?

Meeting Samrang’s gaze, he saw her shake her head subtly. The King only clicked her tongue and turned back to scolding her pirates.

“Move, you sluggish turtles!”

Beyond the deck lay pandemonium.

“Screams! Fire!”

Splash, splash, splash.

Panic drove men and women overboard. Yet most could not swim; they flailed wildly as ships burned red behind them.

Further inside, smaller craft still floated untouched, but even they fell into the shadow of the Jiaolong Ship.

“Better to be the Jiaolong King’s hostage,” one whispered. At least then ransom or not, one still lived.

Just then, the Jiaolong Ship cleaved forward.

“Damn it!”

Despair clouded every eye. There was no retreat.

“Take aim.”

On the shore, Tang Eonbo’s eyes were bitter ice.

“Fire!”

Arrows streaked like carved night, striking not the Jiaolong Ship but the surrounding vessels. Each burst into flame.

No matter whose boats they were, Eonbo could not allow survivors. That was her duty.

“Again!” she cried, and fire arrows arched anew, casting lurid light across the black hull. For an instant, it seemed itself aflame. And the sight sparked twisted satisfaction in her.

The black ship’s master stood as the obstacle to her cousin Tang Seoak’s ambition. His failure to tie himself tighter to clan power was because of her.

Shameless woman.

Yeon Sosho had consorted with Seoak while hiding her position as the dreaded Jiaolong King. Eonbo’s cousin—Seoak—had gone so far as to plan marriage, only for her true identity to be revealed to the Tang clan head.

Imagine Seoak’s humiliation. Their cousin, unable to kill her, severed her arm instead to sever fate.

But the woman lived. Lived, and seethed. She ordered her stockades: seize Tang Seoak at once if he entered the river.

So Seoak—heartbroken—abandoned leaving the province entirely. He entrusted Eonbo with all external tasks, smiling bitterly:

“Sosho must hate me now. I understand. But when my clanmaster sought to use me as bait to destroy her… cutting off her arm was the best I could do.”

Once, drunk, Tang Seoak had asked her:

“Am I not pathetic, Tang Eonbo? To give my love to one of the unorthodox, to be unable to sever it? You must think me a fool.”

Never.

Eonbo had only ever pitied him. He was gifted, but never direct line. Always forced to the side of the clan’s affairs. By ill fate, he had given his heart to the Jiaolong King.

Even his weakness—the inability to end what he once began—she could not despise. She held it as a strange kind of virtue.

“…That she herself would come in person…”

But years had passed since then. The Yangtze currents had shifted, yet the Jiaolong King had not forgotten.

And so Eonbo recalled the words they exchanged before this journey began.