TSBIRBV Ch 72

Chapter 72 An Esper Who Knows When to Act (2)

Je Haryang’s deductions were entirely wrong, but given the clues he possessed, that was the best inference he could make. The night that the Black Ghost and Yegyeol spent with Haryang in Qinghai never actually happened.

Therefore, he never thought that Yegyeol would avoid him because of that night. He had perfectly deceived his disciple.

“I don’t know.”

Jinyoung was rather skeptical of Haryang’s perspective.

Master Mun was a reckless person, as mischievous as a rabid weasel.

Abusing the dominant position of the Sichuan Tang in Chengdu, he arrogantly hired bandits to smash the Tang family’s guards and planned to distribute the plundered goods through the black market, even opening dealings with the Black Ghost.

While trafficking stolen goods through the black market was natural, which righteous faction would ally with bandits to rob its own guild?

Even the bandits who attacked the Tang family alongside Tang Seoak ended up in Yegyeol’s hands. It was unlikely they spared survivors out of mercy.

A person who hesitates like that would never have made the plan to assault the Tang family in the first place. Sacrifices are inevitable without overwhelming power.

In Jinyoung’s eyes, Yegyeol was flexible and shameless, with the drive to push through decisions—a spark flying in all directions.

Even knowing of Haryang and the Jiaolong King’s relationship, Yegyeol would not be shocked or alienated.

“But isn’t Master Mun quite tolerant? Perhaps the worries and circumstances you have differ greatly.”

“Perhaps.”

Haryang gazed somberly at the withered leaf. He quietly brushed his hands off after staring at the miserable plant.

“Shall I order its removal?”

Jinyoung asked eagerly. The plant was only a skeleton of ribs, peeling away until it crumbled.

But Haryang shook his head.

“Leave it be.”

It was never a gift meant for him. It was something forcibly taken from his subordinate. Yet now that it was in his hands, could he let it leave?

‘Perhaps death is all that waits for me here.’

He thought, smile faint on his face.

— — —

“This is delicious.”

Yegyeol worked his spoon and chopsticks with fervor, desperately eager to show he was healthy and whole.

Of course, it was not mere acting—he felt psychological hunger from his long disconnection with the guide.

For five long days, Yegyeol had carefully avoided Je Haryang.

The guide was right before him, sometimes holding his hand, stroking his head, even touching his cheek—yet Yegyeol skirted away bit by bit.

‘But when it’s time, it’s time.’

He forced himself to not weaken.

The greatest problem was not knowing how effective the medicine was.

Haryang was always composed and wore a gentle smile, so detecting his mental agitation was difficult.

But today, Yegyeol finally tasted something resembling success.

After speaking to Jinyoung and avoiding Senior Brother, Yegyeol saw the door close before his eyes. His heart skipped—not out of fear, but joy.

‘Finally, I did it.’

When Senior Brother aggressively set a dinner appointment and opened the door, Yegyeol almost shed tears.

“Did you use different spices? Or change the herbs?”

Watching Yegyeol chatter as usual, Haryang smiled softly.

“He seared the meat before making soup. If you liked it, next time I’ll cook it the same way.”

“I like the light broth more.”

Yegyeol laughed brightly until eye contact made him bury his face in the bowl.

“Try this too,” Haryang said, pushing a bowl forward.

“Why give me all the food? You should eat too, Senior Brother.”

He seemed swarmed by the dishes.

“I’m pleased to see my disciple eat well.”

Haryang looked unexpectedly relaxed, though he probably felt the pressure.

Haryang’s mask was as sturdy as ever.

“You often ask Jinyoung for advice.”

“I cause many problems trying shortcuts in guild affairs I don’t fully grasp.”

Determined, Yegyeol played the obedient disciple well.

“Jinyoung praises you for handling guild business so well.”

“Jinyoung?”

Suppressing a fleeting mischievous curiosity, Yegyeol answered happily.

“That’s a relief.”

“At first, I thought you two didn’t get along, but it seems you’ve grown close. That eases my mind.”

Making light jabs even before Haryang, Yegyeol smiled awkwardly.

Avoiding the man who spent the longest with Senior Brother—Samrang or Yalu Hongyeo—was an esper’s instinct.

“But don’t get too close.”

“Yes…?!”

“You’ll make him jealous.”

Haryang smiled plainly.

“Jealousy?”

Yegyeol blinked, unsure he heard correctly.

“This Senior Brother is quite petty. He frets that his disciple might drift away upon meeting another man.”

The choice of words was cunning and loaded.

Given the situation, Haryang did not yet know Yegyeol had met another man.

Yegyeol clung to Samrang before returning, and since Samrang knew the Black Ghost was Haryang, she quietly promised not to report to her lord. This was as Yegyeol expected.

They could never speak of a sexual relationship between disciple and master, so it was easiest to pretend it never existed.

“How could my disciple abandon Senior Brother for another?”

Haryang watched silently as Yegyeol carefully avoided the frank words, choosing gentler expressions.

“To me—”

Yegyeol moistened his cracking lips with tea and said,

“To me, there is only Senior Brother.”

His voice was weak but resolute.

Haryang smiled gently, as if he knew.

“My disciple is so devoted, yet I keep testing him. Gyeol, you’ve had a hard time.”

“No, it’s nothing.”

Yegyeol waved off the praise.

Meanwhile, Haryang studied his disciple carefully. Whenever Yegyeol felt his gaze, he would shrink, avert his eyes, and sometimes flush.

It wasn’t shyness or timidity. Yegyeol’s bashfulness held a clear hidden meaning.

‘What could that be?’

Only in facing his disciple did Haryang’s curiosity surface. He was intrigued by Yegyeol—always would be.

He knew his curiosity could ruin their bond, but he could not help leaning toward Yegyeol. Even when sending him off to Kunlun to separate them, or convincing himself it was necessary and bringing him back.

“You’re out of tea.”

Haryang lifted the teapot, making Yegyeol wonder since he knew there was still water inside.

But for Senior Brother, this was a rule.

“I will ask Jinyoung to bring some.”

“No need for such trouble. Isn’t your meal nearly finished? Just let me use your cup to moisten my lips.”

An unexpected request.

Yegyeol’s barely trembling hand gently slid the ceramic cup toward Haryang.

“I took a sip…but if it’s okay.”

Watching him as though unfazed, Haryang gracefully took the cup and softly pressed his lips to the spot Yegyeol had touched.

It was a clear, deliberate act.

“What a nice aroma.”

His eyes half-shut, Haryang murmured, making Yegyeol’s face flush, blanch, then redden again.

For a naive esper, it was an excessively stimulating scene.

‘Is Senior Brother crazy?’

Even though they drank from the same cup, why add comments about good aroma?

Yegyeol was confused. Perhaps he was far from being seen as a romantic interest, so his Senior Brother’s forwardness was unrestrained.

‘He could stand so well that night. Really unfair.’

Grumbling, Yegyeol complained quietly as Haryang reached for the cup to return it.

“Thank you.”

“N-no reason.”

His voice trembled slightly with both hands raised.

Surely, what happened next was unintended by Haryang.

As he handed the cup back, he lightly brushed the back of Yegyeol’s hand—a touch so slight it could be excused as an accident.

But to a starving esper, it was a weighty sensation. Shocked by the faint guiding flowing through his skin, Yegyeol relaxed his grip.

The cup slipped from his grasp and fell.

Crash!

“Ah…!”

Startled by the shattered cup, Yegyeol’s eyes grew wide.

“I- I’ll clean up. I’m sorry.”

Embarrassment crossed his face clearly as he leapt up without hesitation.

Though an S-class esper, he wasn’t strengthened enough to avoid risk; normally, he would have calculated even clearing up spilled glass, but now he fumbled purely out of panic.

As he knelt to reach for the pieces, Haryang held him firmly and helped him up.

Yegyeol looked up in rare bewilderment.

“Aren’t you worried?”

Haryang spoke softly, calming.

“I’ll ask Jinyoung to clear it.”

— — —