TSBIRBV Ch 67

Chapter 67 The Bride Lies Sleepless (5)

Why?

Because he feared what the two of us had said to each other.

Namgung Un vividly remembered the one who knocked and entered his cabin that day. It had been none other than Tang Seoak.

Claiming they ought to share a drink to celebrate victory in their first battle against the River Alliance, he grinned with easy charm.

Tang Seoak’s conduct invited suspicion, yet his manner itself seemed that of a decent fellow.

Up to that point, Namgung Un hadn’t placed much weight on the Golden Dragon chief’s warning—dismissing it as the flailing of the defeated.

But Tang Seoak began, slyly, to probe what had passed between Namgung Un and the Golden Dragon chief.

So he is afraid, Un thought.

He raised the cup and humored Tang Seoak. Only after he pretended to be drunk and babbled that the chief had said nothing did Tang relax and take his leave.

Only then did Namgung Un understand why the Golden Dragon chief had left mere hints, never naming the traitor aloud. The orthodox favored their own; naming Tang Seoak directly risked being read as a divisive ploy. Instead, the chief chose to plant suspicion in Un’s mind.

A conclusion one reaches oneself is the strongest of certainties.

As expected of an old monster who’d survived Jianghu to that age.

Eyes lowered, Namgung Un reflected quietly. His father, Namgung Hano, head of the clan, had urged him to see as much of the world as possible. If three men walk the road, one is a teacher—and indeed, Un had learned much even from masters of the unorthodox.

After the river fight, Tang Seoak shut himself in and did not emerge from Sichuan. Though his feats had been no small part of the battle, he sent only a letter that, by order of the clan head, he was confined to reflect.

Namgung Un set investigators on the matter—but cautiously. He wished to reveal, before it was too late, that Tang Seoak had joined hands with the water stockades. Yet with Tang unseen, there was no proof to seize; and to be accused of harassing another Great House’s scion would only drag Namgung’s name through the mud.

So Un chose to focus on what could be done now: word that the Jiaolong King would release the hostage.

He volunteered to lead the escort as the hostage left the stockade upon payment of ransom. Normally, he would have judged it right to rescue one who must be saved; this time, however, it was not chivalry that moved him.

But just before departure, Tang Seoak appeared.

“So now, Qinghai Trading and the Jiaolong King are working together?”

Namgung Un looked across at the man. Tang Seoak, facing not just any prodigy but the Namgung heir, observed the courtesies.

“Precisely. If you know the influence Qinghai Trading wields in the western heartlands, you can gauge the scale of this,” he murmured, hinting at dire threat.

Whether such a threat truly existed, Tang did not care. The revelation had to raise him high—so high even the clan head couldn’t easily move against him.

“We cannot move against Qinghai Trading on surmise alone, Master Tang. We need certain proof,” Un said.

“You will see it with your own eyes shortly.”

Tang Seoak bared his teeth in a grin. “I will guide you and the Azure Corps.”

“Why come alone, without Tang’s warriors?”

At that, Tang pressed his lips tight. The clan head had not trusted him and had ordered confinement; he had to slip out alone.

“…My lord, fearing for my safety, compelled me to leave in secret. The river is dangerous for me,” he said.

A few already knew Tang’s story; the flimsy excuse passed.

Namgung Un did not trust him—only judged that unless he flipped the card Tang had brought, the day of reckoning would recede without end.

“I trust the Master Tang who aided us on the river against Golden Dragon,” Un said.

When Un commanded, the Azure Corps obeyed.

They went along the wooded path by the bank to a reedbed taller and denser than men.

“This is one of the Jiaolong King’s secret spots,” Tang said. “Here she loads what should not be loaded and ferries whom she should not ferry.”

When he first sold out the King to make his name, Tang had kept this hidden pier as a last scrap of loyalty. A good thing—had he revealed it then, it would have been hard to fix where the wedding procession now aimed.

“Where did you learn this?”

“I am the ‘old lover’ who cost Yeon Sosho her arm,” Tang said—again laying his chewed-over past on his tongue. He disliked speaking of it; no matter his labors and the clan’s service, people remembered him as the Jiaolong King’s ex-lover. That, too, was about to be rewritten—

The man who slew the Yangtze’s dragon that would not ascend.

“The procession will arrive soon—a very special bride, bringing a laden dowry to the river.”

“There’s no village anywhere near here. How would a bride come?” Namgung Un frowned. The ground was damp and the earth soft—not a place to hold a wedding.

“Wait and see,” Tang said confidently.

Time passed. A score cut across Tang’s arrogant face—impatience nipping—when, at last, the sound of pipes carried; a red bridal sedan appeared.

“At last,” he breathed, and grinned. To think that this very sedan—meant to carry a bride to her most auspicious day—had become the impudent boy’s coffin. Delicious.

“Let us greet the bride,” he said, rising—to haul out the Qinghai guild master who must have died within, unable to scream under the venom’s assault.

The guards ringed the sedan—but none were masters enough to bar a blood of the Sichuan Tang.

“Come now. Show your face,” Tang said, tearing the wall with his bare hand. The lacquer was poisoned; he meant to toss the panel into the river and erase his hand.

But then—

“Kyaaa!”

A thin woman’s scream rang along the bank.

“Let go of our lady! Let go, you wretch!”

The bride’s old nurse came rushing, swinging a shoe to thrash Tang.

“This can’t be… impossible,” Tang stumbled back, face bewildered.

A bride—alive, vividly alive—sat in the sedan. The red veil had slid, and the askew phoenix crown showed beneath.

“What lawlessness is this!”

A step late, Namgung Un arrived—and saw all.

“Step away from the civilian, now,” Un snapped, placing himself between Tang and the bride. The old nurse darted to wrap the bride’s shoulders, cooing “Miss, miss,” to soothe her.

“There has been some mistake. The woman may be a Jiaolong accomplice—she should be confined and examined,” Tang said, quick to sense the wrongness. Not mere denial—this bride was suspicious. To place the right person in the right place at the right time—no easy feat.

But Un already distrusted Tang—and seeing him lay hands on an untrained young woman told him Tang’s character did not match his reputation.

“You are bullying a bride on her wedding day—and hindering the Azure Corps, who go to escort Jiaolong’s hostage,” Un said.

Tang ground his teeth. The pup already knew how to wield power. Having slipped the clan head’s eye to make a last gamble, Tang had little choice but to yield before such pressure.

“I… must have been misinformed,” he said. “But if you check the dowry, you’ll find it’s all Qinghai’s goods. That’s the money the guild master secretly pays the Jiaolong King.”

The nurse spat her rage: “Of course we prepared the dowry through Qinghai! How much of Sichuan and Qinghai is beyond their reach?”

“Then why cross here, at a hidden landing?” Un asked.

“Because madmen like you try to rob the dowry! The bodyguards our mistress hired are leading us by a route with no bandits or pirates!” the nurse snapped, spitting on the ground. “Nurse,” the bride whispered, soft as thread.

“…Master Tang,” Un said. “I go now to the appointed place to escort the guild master. If you wish to help, follow. If you intend to keep spouting nonsense, return to Sichuan.”

Tang clenched his jaw. Very well—the Qinghai guild master. He had to see whether that impudent Mun was on the river, whether Yeon Sosho would receive a corpse and rage. That alone might soothe him.

“…I will accompany Master Namgung,” he said.

“My apologies to have frightened you on your joyous day,” Un told the bride. “If you ever require aid, seek Namgung Un of Azure Namgung.”

The bride nodded composedly and took the pass-token from him.

With matters settled, the Azure Corps moved with crisp efficiency. The rendezvous the Jiaolong King had set lay conveniently near.

At the site, caravan hands—men of a security firm, by the look—laid out valuables along the bank, a ransom’s worth.

Tang pulled a bamboo hat low to hide his flushed face. Everything was going strangely.

When the principals had assembled, a black-lacquered merchant ship showed on the river. Wang Hotak, the Jiaolong King’s man, peered from the deck and whistled.

Black shapes broke the surface and ringed the Azure Corps. Namgung Un and his people only tensed, arms lowered, waiting for the hostage to appear.

“Enough to cover the price,” Wang Hotak said. “Bring the guest.”

At his order, the divers slipped below. After a time, the Qinghai guild master’s gaunt face showed on deck.

“Master… Namgung?”

Blinking as if the sun pained him after a long while, Yegyeol brightened when he saw Un.

“You are safe,” Un said, unable to hide his relief.

Tang Seoak—face hidden under the hat, a step back—stared in disbelief at the living guild master.

“…You really… truly came to rescue me,” Yegyeol said, head drooping, shoulders shaking.

“It’s all right now. It will be all right,” Un said, stamping down his anxious urge to rush forward.

Tang’s face twisted. Impossible. How did he reach the river before me?

To an esper’s keen ears, Tang’s mutter was clear. Even as he sniffled theatrically at Un’s arrival, Yegyeol flicked his tongue in secret glee.

Not like your house has Red Thunder.

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