TSBIRBV Ch 88

Chapter 88 The Trading Lord Is on Leave (5)

Jinyoung looked at Yegyeol and Haryang with a complicated gaze. He had considered whether he ought to present a venom-laden weasel to his lord, but seeing them together like this still left him unsettled.

“Please take good care of the company while I’m away.”

With easy nonchalance, Yegyeol waved his hand.

“Travel safely.”

Turning around, a fine steed with a crimson mane came into view.

Red Thunder was so large it seemed as if he had grown to match his master Hongyeo’s height. Even so, just as Yegyeol, with esper-like nimbleness, was about to mount, his senior brother suddenly approached.

“I’ll lift you up.”

Having apparently finished speaking with Jinyoung, his senior brother stepped forward.

“Ah.”

Before he could answer, he had already been hoisted up. Haryang set him on the front part of the saddle.

“Couldn’t I ride in back?”

Yegyeol timidly offered his preference.

If they were riding together anyway, he wanted to sit behind and wrap his arms around his senior brother to his heart’s content. Pretending to fear falling off, he could simply hold on tight and his senior brother would have no grounds to object.

But Haryang was absolute on this point.

“I intend to push Red Thunder at top speed, so you might fall.”

He had tried to embrace and ended up embraced, but once seated, this too was pleasing in its way. As he squirmed into a stable posture, a golden snake poked its head out.

Watching him get situated, Haryang glanced at BamBam and spoke.

“By the way… BamBam is carrying quite a heavy bundle.”

“Oh, this?”

Holding BamBam up, Yegyeol replied. Of the three—Je Haryang, Mun Yegyeol, and BamBam—the one with the most luggage was BamBam.

“Samrang packed it.”

Tilting his head at the bundle slung around BamBam’s neck, Yegyeol added,

“I don’t even know what’s inside. Shall we take a peek?”

“May I?” he asked, and BamBam nudged the bundle with its tail until it plopped into Yegyeol’s palm, then showed the rare skill of using its tail to sneakily unknot the tie.

“Oh… clamps with the mouth and pushes with the tail—does it again!”

“Spirit-beast or not, remarkably clever.”

From the bundle BamBam had opened, a covert hood popped out—a rather cute kerchief sized for BamBam.

He must have been mindful of how, when they infiltrated Hangsu’s room, they’d carelessly tied a cloth and stuck it on BamBam’s head.

“Samrang sews well?”

At Yegyeol’s question, BamBam shook its head and pointed its tail at Red Thunder.

“So Hongyeo was made to do it…”

For some reason, Yegyeol fell quiet, suddenly solemn. He could vividly imagine Samrang pestering Hongyeo to make clothes for BamBam.

“Samrang is better at stitching leather than cloth, so she likely asked Hongyeo,” Haryang said.

As Yegyeol re-tied the bundle onto BamBam, he asked,

“Come to think of it, is it all right to go to Hangzhou without Samrang?”

“It seems you’ve grown attached. A pity, but Samrang can’t come with us.”

Haryang explained gently.

“Red Thunder can’t carry three.”

That was reasonable. Even if Red Thunder never tired, volume was still an issue.

“No, that’s not it—I asked because Samrang is my bodyguard.”

“Samrang is quite capable. But, Gyeol,”

From his senior brother’s body pressed to his, a fresh laugh rose.

“You may not find it reassuring, but this elder brother’s skills are more than adequate.”

Before Yegyeol could reply, Red Thunder set off.

On the journey toward the Yangtze, Yegyeol realized just how great an invention modern automobiles were. Comfort was one thing; far greater was glass.

“Weren’t all those seniors who drove open-top sports cars out of their minds?”

Bugs, leaves, and dust flew at their faces. Still, Haryang neither hesitated nor slowed as he urged Red Thunder on.

It was because all those foreign objects bounced off some faint bluish something. Yegyeol guessed it was a qi membrane.

To use a qi membrane just to block bugs and leaves—what a wonder among martial artists.

“No, this would be a wonder even to martial artists,” he corrected himself.

He had been stunned before when Samrang spread a sword barrier to block sound; inner energy consumption was enormous. Yet Je Haryang was using qi membranes simply for Yegyeol’s comfort, every time debris approached.

Without perfect dynamic vision, reflexes, and inner strength, it would be impossible.

“But…”

Striving not to bite his tongue as his body jolted, Yegyeol ventured,

“You really are the world’s best, aren’t you, senior brother?”

A vibration pulsed at his back. Haryang answered via voice‑transmission, since Yegyeol’s words were hardly audible over the hoofbeats.

[My disciple thinks far too highly of this elder brother; it could be troublesome.]

Moved almost to tears by the thoughtfulness—using transmission because, while a martial artist like him could hear, an ordinary person like his disciple might not—Yegyeol went on,

“But last time, even at much slower speeds on Red Thunder, I suffered terribly from bugs and dust. Riding with you is so comfortable. Whatever it is, it seems close to an art…”

[It’s only a matter of having many small tricks. Don’t talk too much; you’ll bite your tongue.]

So modest.

Resolving to lock Je Haryang in a compliment‑prison once they reached Hangzhou, Yegyeol shut his mouth for now.

He needed to show that he was a good disciple who usually did as told—that way, his senior brother would spare a little more attention for the “naughty things” done in Sichuan without his knowledge.

—

“It has been a while.”

The River‑Dragon King offered a greeting.

“R‑River‑Dragon King…”

Mouth working silently, Yegyeol glanced between Haryang and Yeon Soso.

They had ridden straight from Cheonghae and just arrived at the Yangtze. At the ferry where the current widened, a merchant vessel awaited; upon boarding, the head of the Yangtze River Channel Syndicate was there.

Naturally, Yegyeol neither panicked nor feared, but he forced out a reaction befitting a layman.

“It’s all arranged already. No need to be so surprised.”

In a gentle tone, Haryang soothed him.

“Red Thunder draws too much attention; it’s actually better to use a pirate ship when traveling by water.”

“So that’s how it is. I wondered if you had come to do business again and simply ran into us.”

At Yegyeol’s feigned sigh of relief, the River‑Dragon King’s lips curled.

“Our first meeting was unusual, indeed. It’s been a while, Young Master Mun.”

“By the way, I didn’t ask you to come meet us personally; a heavy step to take.”

“Having finally achieved my aim, I simply thought it proper to pay respects to my lord.”

Yeon Soso smiled. Yegyeol resolved never to ask after Dang Seoak’s whereabouts.

“I have ordered my men to see you encounter no inconvenience on your way.”

The River‑Dragon King was more courteous than expected. Having once regarded this man as an upstart of the rivers and lakes, he now sincerely respected him; Yegyeol was newly surprised.

So firmly was the hierarchy defined.

“If it is the River‑Dragon King at the oar, one can trust the passage,” Haryang replied with a chilly face.

The expression was oddly unfamiliar; Yegyeol stared, dazed.

“That’s… quite imposing.”

Perhaps it was a face shown only to subordinates; upon meeting Yegyeol’s eyes, Haryang smiled softly. It could be felt in the skin that this—this warmth—was the special treatment.

It was simply that the greedy Yegyeol wanted to know every Je Haryang he did not know.

Turning his head, the River‑Dragon King saw Yegyeol’s expression and paused, casting him a look of interest.

Feigning ignorance once more, Yegyeol looked away.

“Then I’ll return to my River‑Dragon Hall first. May your voyage be smooth.”

After Yeon Soso left, ushered to their cabins, Yegyeol did not settle in his own room but went straight to his senior brother. Sitting neatly like a painted figure, Haryang turned his head.

“You’re here.”

“Thinking of being alone made me bored.”

Dropping down beside him, Yegyeol watched for a moment, then posed the question he’d held since earlier.

“I didn’t know you had acquaintances in Hangzhou.”

“Indeed?”

“Yes. Is your family connection also to the east?”

Come to think of it, though Je Haryang knew where Yegyeol’s hometown was, Yegyeol did not know his senior brother’s.

Somehow, he felt like a careless disciple.

“I am from Shandong.”

Haryang readily revealed his birthplace. Shandong—fairly close to Hangzhou.

At last, it made sense how young Je Haryang had come to Hangzhou. A famous place; he must have come with family on a trip.

As a renowned resort, Hangzhou boasted insane prices, but when they first met, his senior brother had worn costly silks. Surely he came from a noble house.

“Shandong—the lands of the Zhuge clan and the Hwangbo clan.”

He suddenly recalled that Chae Bong, with whom his senior brother had once had romantic entanglements, was from the Hwangbo clan.

“Did he slyly use hometown ties to get close to senior brother?”

Doing things dozens, hundreds of times more shameless himself, Yegyeol thought brazenly. Separately, he did not forget to offer up a three‑part prayer for Chae Bong—a rabbit husband, a fox lover, and a deer ex‑boyfriend.

“Yes. Land where two of the Five Great Houses hold sway.”

“Then the acquaintance you’re meeting in Hangzhou—perhaps…?”

Yegyeol’s eyes asked whether kin from Shandong had moved to Hangzhou. Haryang shook his head.

“The ‘acquaintance’ is a disciple of someone to whom I owed a debt long ago.”

At Haryang’s explanation, Yegyeol nodded.

“I only just learned where he lives. I’ll need to make inquiries, so until word comes in, keep this elder brother company.”

“Of course.”

A shameless man who knew not the word “refuse” beamed.