TSBIRBV Ch 115

Chapter 115 More Than a Drama (3)

For a moment the world tilted and Yegyeol splashed cold water on his face.

Luckily this wasn’t the teahouse’s main hall; he’d nearly spit out everything he’d been drinking.

“Master Mun?” Dang Segi turned, sensing something odd in Yegyeol’s expression.

‘First things first…’ Yegyeol forced a casual smile and set about clearing his head with as much cool logic as he could muster.

They’d said twenty years had passed since the Kunlun calamity. The Central Plains’ martial world was far more conservative than modern Korea; for Je Haryang’s age it wouldn’t have been strange at all if he’d already had a household. By the common standards of the martial world, Haryang still being single was almost miraculous.

‘Be thankful for what you have…’ Yegyeol squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them. He couldn’t afford to lose himself now—there were still tasks to do.

“By the way, whom did Master Hwangbo marry?” he asked, checking whether Hwangbo Yakrin had remarried.

After being reborn, Yegyeol had once devoured genre novels to test whether the martial world, Kunlun, and Je Haryang were real or figments of his imagination. One cliché in those books was that a past lover often died in some great battle or was framed, and a protagonist would secretly raise the child that resulted. Those stories usually ended in reunion and marriage.

‘No—real-life happy endings like that are not acceptable.’

When reading novels he might root for reunions, but this time he wanted a different outcome. He muttered inwardly with a chill.

‘Please. A husband cute as a rabbit. A lover sly as a fox. A pure ex-boyfriend like a timid deer.’

The heavens—or at least Dang Segi—answered his plea.

“Oh. It was Ak Juchen from the Shandong House,” Dang Segi blurted.

A name Yegyeol had never heard. That meant Ak Juchen hadn’t been one of the famed martial greats of the previous generation. He hadn’t made a name in the rivers and lakes, so this anonymity was inconvenient when you were trying to check facts by reputation.

Relief flooded Yegyeol’s chest at the news that Hwangbo Yakrin had a separate husband. A divorce-and-remarry route was unlikely. If the Hwangbo family had chosen a little-known man, it probably meant a politically arranged marriage between the Hwangbo and the Shandong House.

‘In the martial world many die young, sure… but if she’s sheltered by the Hwangbo family, she’s unlikely to have perished.’

Yegyeol looked at Dang Segi with a new warmth and silently wished Ak Juchen a long life. It was a stroke of fortune that Dang Segi, who had been present, knew about this otherwise obscure spouse.

‘Maybe I’ll help a little.’

“Why don’t you at least say hello?” Yegyeol kindly suggested to Dang Segi, who was shuffling behind a stall and grinding his feet.

“R-really? What if they think I followed them?” Dang Segi stammered.

“You were the one who came first, weren’t you?” Yegyeol replied.

“That’s true,” Dang Segi admitted.

Because being near the object of one’s affection tends to scramble rational thought, Yegyeol felt superior by comparison and nudged him forward.

“Say you didn’t expect to meet them here, greet them warmly, then explain you’re choosing a gift for your mother and ask if she’d lend her taste. Tell her you’d like to rely on a woman’s eye, and if she helps, present a gift in return.”

Yegyeol coached him briskly—having offered good intel, he might as well help the execution.

“P-please come with me!” Dang Segi squeezed his eyes shut and begged.

Yegyeol had intended to refuse, but curiosity about Hwangbo Yulhee tugged at him. She looked so much like Haryang that his gaze kept returning to her despite himself.

“—If I can be of help, Master Dang,” Yegyeol said, yielding.

“Thank you!” Dang Segi’s eyes shone so brightly Yegyeol felt like patting him on the back—even confessing he’d ruined Namgung Seoak’s standing wouldn’t faze this fellow.

Namgung Un had indeed introduced an extraordinary person. Yegyeol admired him inwardly.

As they descended, Dang Segi muttered inaudibly—mantras of self-encouragement like “You can do it” and “Don’t make a fool of yourself.” Yegyeol’s esper hearing caught every syllable; the closer they moved down the stairs, the more Dang Segi’s face shifted.

Suddenly Yegyeol noticed in Dang Segi something of the look he’d seen in Namgung Seoak when the latter’s expression cleared: the Sichuan clan’s reserved, cool look surfacing once his shyness fell away.

‘Please be just a trembling squirrel hoping someone will accept this acorn…’ Yegyeol thought.

Dang Segi’s approach was snail-paced until Yegyeol gave a subtle push; only then did he recover a normal stride and reach Hwangbo Yulhee.

“Lady Hwangbo, what a surprise to meet you here,” Dang Segi managed smoothly—his voice small but audible. If you stretched the truth a bit, you could mistake his shyness for gentle reserve.

“Lord Dang, long time no see. You who should be in Sichuan—what brings you to Hangzhou?” Hwangbo Yulhee replied with graceful sociability.

“I came to Luoyang on business and stopped in Hangzhou to buy a present for my mother’s birthday. I heard the silk here is of good quality.”

Dang Segi followed Yegyeol’s coaching decently; it seemed the young heir to Sichuan’s house had received some training after all.

“Hangzhou’s silks are fine, but do they match Sichuan’s Chokgeum?” Hwangbo Yulhee asked lightly.

“My taste may be lacking…” Dang Segi faltered, losing confidence when she deviated from the prepared script. Yegyeol nudged him again and this time Dang Segi delivered the line he’d been coached on.

“If it would not be too much trouble, might you help me choose the fabric, Lady Hwangbo?”

Yegyeol inwardly smacked his tongue—Dang Segi had become the mouse commanded by the chef.

Hwangbo Yulhee hesitated, then nodded.

“Of course.”

Being from one of the great five houses, the Hwangbo family likely had ties with Sichuan merchants; Hwangbo Yulhee quickly selected a few bolts suitable for Dang Segi’s mother.

“When I last saw you you wore a pale blue ornament; a white silk would suit her. An aqua green would match her elegance,” she suggested.

Yegyeol, positioned as Dang Segi’s shield, watched Hwangbo Yulhee choose fabrics carefully—partly to see how closely she resembled Haryang.

Though younger-looking than Dang Segi, she carried an impressive spirit. Her features were finer, gentler than Haryang’s, yet a slight frown could unsettle a person.

Perhaps Dang Segi’s dramatic reactions heightened the effect of her presence. She didn’t refuse a polite request from another clan, and despite the suddenness of the meeting she considered the gift seriously—showing a sincere, earnest character.

Also—Yegyeol bit his lip, realizing he was being foolish to try to deduce Hwangbo lineage from such small things.

Ultimately, the person he needed to ask a question of wasn’t here.

“By the way, who are the people accompanying Master Dang?” Yegyeol asked.

Hwangbo Yulhee’s eyes met his; they resembled not so much Haryang as the Hwangbo patriarch, Hwangbo Yakrin, who had once visited Kunlun long ago.

“Initially I thought he was a retainer, but since he met my gaze without avoiding it, I suspect he is a friend,” she said. As a martial person herself, she’d noticed Yegyeol’s glances; yet her expression held curiosity rather than offense.

“Oh, I’m not a martial man—just a trader. My name likely won’t mean much to the Hwangbo household,” Yegyeol said with a modest bow, shifting back.

Dang Segi butted in: “This is Mun Yegyeol, head of the Qinghai Guild.”

It sounded like the boast of someone parading a new friend.

“My apologies for my late greeting,” Hwangbo Yulhee said pleasantly. “I am Hwangbo Yulhee of the Hwangbo house.”

Yegyeol wondered whether she bowed out of courtesy or because the guild he now led was truly impressive. He smoothed his expression and replied.

“I’m Mun Yegyeol of the Qinghai Guild.” He bowed awkwardly, pretending to be an ordinary, noncombatant civilian—and Hwangbo Yulhee smiled like a camellia flower.

She seemed kind to the shy Dang Segi; perhaps Hwangbo Yulhee was gentle with those who made clumsy social steps.

By the time Yegyeol had quietly assessed her, Dang Segi’s shopping was done. He had the merchant draw up the bill and picked two bolts—an azure and a pale green—that he thought would suit Hwangbo Yulhee.

“Lady Hwangbo, please accept this,” Dang Segi said stiffly.

Yegyeol felt like oiling his creaky joints; luckily her expression was not displeased.

“For what?” she tilted her head.

“A small token in thanks for your help choosing these pieces,” Dang Segi stammered. Yegyeol noticed sweat bead on the back of his neck—he was so nervous even a martial person’s control had frayed.

“Then I’ll accept it with thanks,” Hwangbo Yulhee said politely and stepped out of the shop with the silks. Dang Segi staggered and then sat down on the pavement. Yegyeol, standing beside him and perfectly able to catch him, deliberately let him slump to the ground—he preferred to observe rather than intervene.

Though he’d helped impulsively, Yegyeol was fundamentally an esper who disliked physical contact. Dang Segi, being unusually sweet for a direct descendant of the Sichuan house, probably wouldn’t scold him. If he did complain, Yegyeol could always claim he’d been unable to react in time because he was an untrained civilian—an all-purpose excuse.

“Thank you!” Dang Segi cried with bright eyes, still sitting on the ground.

“It’s my first time giving someone a gift,” Dang Segi confessed. Yegyeol raised an eyebrow—hadn’t he come to Hangzhou specifically to buy a present for Lady Hwangbo?

“I thought you came to buy her a gift… am I mistaken?” Yegyeol asked.

“I… I always fail to give things properly,” Dang Segi admitted. Yegyeol understood without needing an explanation; the sight of him free-falling by the shoulders made him smile inwardly.

“She once picked up something I dropped,” Dang Segi added. “She’s very kind.”

“I see.” Yegyeol nodded.

“If I return to Sichuan and meet Master Mun, I will repay you someday,” Dang Segi promised.

‘This honor I dedicate to the collective wisdom at the Esper Center, authors of “How to Start With Your Guide” and “Basic Flirting Conversational Phrases for Espers.”’ Yegyeol thought absurdly, skipping the more advanced volumes that required the user’s skill.

‘Still, this is an improvement,’ he reflected, grateful he’d forced his mind to dwell on lightweight, silly things. Dang Segi’s comical collapse had been a helpful distraction.

This question—whether Hwangbo Yulhee was Haryang’s daughter—could only be answered by Haryang himself; he might not even know it, or he might not tell Yegyeol the raw truth. Asking him directly would be awkward; Haryang wasn’t the sort to gossip about an old romance.

So Yegyeol needed to cool his head.

“I should return to the manor now,” he said. There might be Haryang there.

He’d spent the day scanning the crowds for Haryang’s arrival; now the thought of going back made his heart race. Yesterday’s events had stirred something different in him.

“Oh dear, I kept you too long,” Dang Segi jumped up, panicked.

“Thank you for your time. I’ll never forget today.” He beamed. Yes—Yegyeol would not forget either.

With Hwangbo Yulhee etched into his retinas for reasons other than Dang Segi’s clumsy gratitude, Yegyeol hid a sigh, forced a businesslike smile, and parted ways.

He walked slowly, head bowed. The thought of facing Haryang at the manor made his chest pound. Yesterday’s excitement had been of one kind; this morning’s was another altogether.

Fortunately, being with Dang Segi had helped him cool down.

Yegyeol had no intention of letting Haryang go. That was certain.

‘Get an answer as fast as possible.’

Of course he couldn’t directly ask about Hwangbo Yakrin; Haryang was not the sort to spin tales, but he wouldn’t volunteer blunt truths about a woman he’d once married either. Raw, unvarnished answers were not his style.

If only Yegyeol retained the naïve, virtuous priest persona he aimed to maintain, direct questioning might be impossible.

But Yegyeol slowly lifted his head; his brown eyes glinted like gold.

He had one more person who could answer this question for him.

Footnotes

 

 

1. Gajoo / Soga-ju / Soja — Terms referring to a clan head or household head. Gajoo (가주) means the head of a prominent family or house; soga-ju (소가주) is a junior branch head or scion within a larger clan structure. 
2. Chokgeum (촉금) — A reference to high-quality Sichuan brocade (literally “Brocade of Shu”), a historically prized silk textile; used here as a benchmark of luxury fabric. 
3. Yongbonghoeju (용봉회주) — A title indicating leadership of a guild or assembly, in this case a prestigious position within certain martial/merchant circles; roughly “chair of the Yongbong Assembly.” 
4. Seonye Workshop (선예공방) — The dyeing workshop central to the plot; “seonye” denotes a craft or studio specializing in dyeing fabrics rather than weaving.