TSBIRBV Ch 117

Chapter 117 More Than a Drama (5)

Drunk, Yegyeol cast a hazy look, as if he could not immediately recognize the man before him. At the sight of his disciple’s unguarded state, Haryang clicked his tongue inwardly.

What has brought him to this condition?

“Even now, do you not recognize me?”

Yegyeol, not avoiding the hand that came close enough to touch, closed his eyes. When a thumb slid over his eyelid, his lips parted slightly, a breath escaping.

“Ah.”

Leaning his head to one side, Yegyeol whispered:

“…Elder Brother?”

“You are mistaken again.”

“Right. This is Sichuan… Elder Brother said he was going to Qinghai… ha.”

The priest suddenly straightened, rubbing his face several times as though to clear his head. Reaching as if for water, he seized a wine cup instead and downed it in gulps. Haryang, caught off guard, could only watch as Yegyeol’s shoulders trembled and he forced himself upright.

With a flushed face, Yegyeol struggled to sit straight, his unfocused eyes straining to fix upon the Black Ghost.

“Black Ghost… sir. I did not expect you. I must look a fright.”

He rambled, then buried his face in his hands, issuing a stiff expulsion order.

“I wish to be alone. Please leave.”

Haryang quietly took a seat beside him.

“I make it a rule not to take the words of a drunk too seriously.”

“…If you remain quiet, I will not drive you out.”

Resigned, Yegyeol did not expel him. His tear-bright gaze fell upon the winecup. Haryang poured only a third full and passed it to him.

A half-reproachful glance turned toward him.

“Why… only this much?”

Haryang smiled faintly and gestured to his closed lips. Since he could not speak, he would not answer.

More unrestrained than usual, Yegyeol cast a blatant sideways glare, then snatched the cup and wetted his lips.

Silence lingered for some time.

Haryang faithfully refilled the cup, and Yegyeol faithfully emptied it. Without voicing complaint over the small measures, he only pressed for frequent refills, intent on drinking himself thoroughly drunk.

At any other time Haryang might have skillfully restrained him, but now he silently abetted the intoxication. He wanted Yegyeol to open his mouth.

But when the unfiltered question came, Haryang had no inkling what he would hear.

“What should I do?”

With wet eyes Yegyeol gazed at the Black Ghost, his desperate look implying there was no one else he could lean on. Haryang’s mouth grew taut.

He grew grave. He regretted the day before leaving Hangzhou, when he had briefly gone to deal with Jjag-gwi. During that time, he had learned, Yegyeol had gone out and met Dang Segi.

Had something happened while his eyes were turned away?

Forgetting even Yegyeol’s plea to stay silent, Haryang had no choice but to ask:

“What has happened?”

Without delay, Yegyeol named the culprit.

“…It seems Elder Brother has a child.”

For the first time in his life, Je Haryang was struck speechless.

Having dropped the shocking revelation, Yegyeol tilted back his cup and drained it, then lowered his head.

More or less according to plan.

Just as Yegyeol could not directly ask Haryang about Hwangbo Yulhee and Hwangbo Yakrin’s ties, Haryang could not—wearing the Black Ghost’s guise—demand what he meant.

So Yegyeol had chosen to pose the question to the Black Ghost instead.

The risk was that there was no guarantee the Black Ghost would be in Sichuan. Yegyeol had no clear grasp of Je Haryang’s schedule—his true occupation was deliberately obscured. Still, after the long absence on the Hangzhou trip, it seemed likely the Black Ghost was on leave for a time.

Thus Yegyeol devised a plan to lure him out.

Good thing I wafted suspicion all the way home.

He clenched a fist beneath the table.

Insisting he must go to Sichuan, he offered a clumsy excuse and slipped away. Haryang, curious, had even given him Red Thunder.

Instead of heading for guild headquarters, as he had told Haryang, Yegyeol had gone straight to Sichuan’s largest tavern. Speaking loudly enough that others would overhear he was alone, he ordered nothing but copious liquor and shut himself in a room.

Anyone could see it was the drink consuming the man, not the man consuming drink.

Elder Brother cannot help but respond.

The first time he had drunk too much, he had sought out what was effectively a stranger and spread his legs.

So what of the second time?

The Black Ghost could not help but come find him.

Yegyeol had backup plans, but his first attempt succeeded at once.

As a result, Je Haryang, cloaked in the Black Ghost’s hide, now sat beside him, hearing the very reason that had so unsettled the priest.

It was a relief to have the answer so quickly, though at this point, Yegyeol felt like a child rashly trailing after a stranger promised candy.

He did not realize that the one truly endangered was himself, having stoked Haryang’s suspicions. Calm as could be, he simply waited for his elder brother’s reply.

“To have a child? And why should that be bad?”

Though Yegyeol thought he had dropped a bombshell, the Black Ghost’s voice showed no real disturbance.

So this much cannot shake Elder Brother after all?

“No, no. Of course it is a good thing…” Yegyeol waved his hand, whatever he really felt.

“All the way back I agonized over whether to tell Elder Brother what I had seen. But I could not bring myself to say it.”

Tears welled in his brown eyes and spilled. His face was the picture of desolation.

“To me, there is only Elder Brother. The thought that he might not be alone—that he might belong to someone else—suddenly frightened me, and I…”

His words broke off; he sobbed and clapped a hand over his mouth, struggling not to make a sound, shoulders trembling pitifully.

Haryang watched wordlessly.

Unable to read what that silence meant, Yegyeol fretted. At least it was a blessing that Chaebong Hwangbo Yakrin was married.

His elder brother would never commit adultery with a married woman. In this harsh martial world, was Je Haryang not the very conscience of the age?

“I could not say it. Of course I could not.”

Pale lips pressed tightly, Yegyeol swiped at his eyes and drained another cup.

“My Elder Brother… he is such a good man. And yet here I am, receiving his boundless care, harboring such dark thoughts… I am so vile that I had no choice but to run. Each time I looked him in the face I felt guilt.”

And then he emptied more cups in succession.

Thank heavens espers were immune to drunkenness.

Any ordinary man would by now have slurred into nonsense or crawled on all fours. Mere acting could never deceive Elder Brother; Yegyeol needed to genuinely let go of reason and spill his innermost thoughts.

Watching the quantity vanish, the Black Ghost rubbed his chin, then spoke abruptly.

“Is it because you are of the orthodox school? You make such a fuss over harboring lust for your senior brother.”

A cutting rebuke, sharp as a blade.

“It is not lust!”

As if struck by a mortal insult, Yegyeol snapped back.

Seeing the tension in the hand clutching the cup, the Black Ghost—Je Haryang—snorted in amusement.

He clearly found it ridiculous: trembling as though about to shatter the cup, yet neither breaking nor flinging it.

“Then what is it?”

The sudden question was nothing short of rude.

“T-that is…” Yegyeol faltered, unable to speak. He bit his lip, his stiff face implying more than words.

Elder Brother truly seems like a demonic villain…

Even while acting, Yegyeol could not help but admire it.

The Black Ghost’s coarse diction and twisted expression pulsed with lifelike menace. He was no low-grade vagabond like Jjag-gwi but a true and perilous master of the demonic path.

“Hm? There is that saccharine phrase the orthodox gentlemen so love, is there not?”

Half coaxing, half mocking, the Black Ghost asked.

Yegyeol shut his lips and turned his head away.

Instead he reached for the wine bottle.

Seeing he meant to drink from it directly, the Black Ghost snatched it away. Having already achieved his aim, he had no intention of letting Yegyeol keep drinking.

“To see you so heartsick pains me,” he said, sounding for all the world like a bald-faced liar.

“What then…” His lips moved again, and Yegyeol’s eyes followed the motion unconsciously.

When their gazes met, Yegyeol jerked his head away as though it had not happened—so endearingly that the Black Ghost chuckled.

“Just this once, I’ll aid you at a very cheap price.”

“What… what do you mean?”

Though Yegyeol sobered in an instant, his body sagged like that of a man unable to hold himself upright, his hand gripping Haryang tightly.

“Doesn’t the Black Market deal in everything?”

The Black Ghost’s murmur fell like a golden rope from the heavens.

“…Information. Yes, you also deal in information.”

A glimmer of hope flickered in Yegyeol’s desperate gaze, and the Black Ghost savored it before nodding.

“Indeed. So long as you can pay—say, like that fee you gave me once—then the Black Market will furnish anything for its patrons.”

At his words—hinting at that debauched night—Yegyeol’s face burned crimson.

“Now then, one promise, and I will investigate.”

A crooked smile warped the scarred face of the Black Ghost.

“That what you saw truly is that ‘Elder Brother’s’ family.”

Yegyeol exulted inwardly.