TSBIRBV Ch 176

Chapter 176 Pillow-Side Litigation (3)

“There are so many people today.”

Haryang muttered.

“There really are. What’s going on?”

“Seems a troupe of foreign performers has arrived.”

He had caught it by listening closely to the buzz around them.

“That sounds fun. Let’s go watch them too.”

“Wouldn’t it be too crowded?”

“Even so, if there’s a performance on the very day I come out with senior brother, how could I resist?”

“Hm.”

“Why is it that whenever I go out with you, the weather is fine and something delightful always happens?”

Yegyeol leaned against him with a silly grin.

Truthfully, in his current mood, he would have taken even a thunderbolt on a cloudless day as heaven’s blessing. If he tripped and bled from the nose, he would think himself lucky that the back of his head wasn’t split. Even if a pickpocket stole his purse, he would laugh it off, saying the money had gone where it was most needed.

He was that happy.

“But can’t I really take this off?”

He tugged at the veil, whining.

“I can’t see senior brother’s face properly…”

It was their first date, after all. He wanted to study Haryang’s expressions more closely. Even if staring from an arm’s length away wouldn’t reveal all of his thoughts, he wanted to try.

“…Not when there are so many people.”

After some hesitation, Haryang whispered,

“When we’re alone.”

With that short addition, the man, for some reason embarrassed, caught Yegyeol’s hand and strode off quickly. Yegyeol chased after him, calling “Senior brother! Senior brother!” in mock distress, but his face was full of smiles.

Whenever that seemingly flawless man showed shyness, Yegyeol’s patience dissolved at once.

At times like this, having a veil isn’t all bad.

At least he could grin stupidly without being caught.

As they walked, Yegyeol kept glancing around, searching for a side alley where they might slip away alone. But with the performers in town, the marketplace was packed with stalls. Unless they shoved through the crowds, there was little chance of slipping off.

“There’s a small bell here with a missing tooth. The sound’s odd.”

As Yegyeol browsed the stall, Haryang trailed silently behind, buying every trinket that caught his disciple’s interest.

“Wow.”

Yegyeol found a brilliantly decorated hairpin and stuck it into Haryang’s hair, exclaiming. It looked like a woman’s accessory, yet it suited his senior brother frighteningly well.

“Do you like it?”

Yegyeol nodded eagerly.

Though crudely made compared to a craftsman’s work, Haryang’s face carried it with such elegance that the flaw vanished.

“If you like it, then…”

Unconcerned with how others stared, Haryang told the stallkeeper he would buy it.

The merchant, who had been glaring at them when Yegyeol first stuck the hairpin in, gaped wide as Haryang declared it a purchase.

“These days may be rough, but what husband dresses his wife in men’s clothes to walk about?”

The stallkeeper winked as he carefully wrapped the ornament.

“My spouse is so fair that I worried. I thought I had concealed it well enough, but how did you see she was my wife?” Haryang replied blandly.

Wow, senior brother is shameless.

Yegyeol was impressed. Yet being mistaken for his wife—and Haryang not denying it—delighted him so much that he tucked himself behind his senior brother’s elbow, hiding his grin.

“No matter how gruffly she tries to speak, with the way you look at her dripping honey, how could I not know?”

The stallkeeper explained animatedly, saying it was obvious—what strong man would put such a gaudy hairpin in his head, and what wife would sit so quietly pleased with it? Then, lowering his voice conspiratorially, he added,

“I’ve traded across the central plains for twenty years. I can tell at a glance.”

Whether that was prejudice or lack of prejudice was anyone’s guess.

Haryang paid him twice the asked price.

“For your silence.”

“Ah, thank you kindly, great sir.”

The merchant pocketed the silver with glee.

The moment they had their purchase, Yegyeol and Haryang hurried away in unspoken agreement. Without exchanging words or signals, once they had put distance between themselves and the stall, they broke into laughter together.

“What strange things we encounter.”

“He called me your wife—ah, I can’t, it’s too funny.”

Wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, Yegyeol suddenly turned sharply to Haryang.

“But why did you accept it?”

Reading the mischief in his disciple’s eyes, Haryang smiled wryly.

“And why did my wife stay silent?”

Yegyeol clamped his lips shut.

“Mm?”

Haryang prodded softly. Yegyeol rolled his eyes, then beckoned him closer. His senior brother leaned down obligingly. Yegyeol whispered in his ear,

“…Because how could I deny being bound to my lord?”

Since Gaga liked it, surely he’ll like being called “lord” too.

It was a frivolous guess, a playful endearment.

“You’re wed now, then,” he teased.

Trying to lighten the mood, Yegyeol pouted. But Haryang gave no reply. Curious, Yegyeol glanced up—and through the veil saw him frozen, dazed.

“Senior brother?”

“…Ah.”

Haryang quickly raised his sleeve to cover his face.

“What? What is it?”

Yegyeol craned on tiptoe, trying to peek, but failed. Haryang had suddenly pulled him into a fierce embrace.

“…Must we really stay for the troupe’s performance?”

The question all but begged to go home.

“Yes. We must.”

Yegyeol’s answer was firm. His ambition was set: to make this the perfect date, one spoken of even in esper history.

After a moment to steady himself, Haryang resumed calmly exploring the marketplace with him. But every so often, Yegyeol felt the grip on his hand tighten, and he giggled behind the veil.

Even when he had first resolved to win Haryang, he had never imagined perfection like this. That everything was going so smoothly—it felt like a dream.

They stopped before a stall of carved wooden figures. Among them, a little snake caught Yegyeol’s eye—stubby and comical.

Few snakes, he thought, were as cute as Baembaemi.

“This carving is so ugly.”

“Mm? What did you say?”

The market was so loud that Haryang didn’t hear. Reflexively, he paid for it.

Yegyeol had meant to say don’t buy it! but by the time the merchant pocketed the silver with glee, it was too late. Yegyeol threw back his veil.

“I meant—!”

Before he could finish, Haryang tugged him close. The jostle of a passerby tipped Haryang’s body toward him, and suddenly his senior brother’s face was very near. Their eyes met.

Yegyeol’s heart dropped with a thud.

“I did say I had my own ideas, didn’t I…”

Haryang smiled faintly and murmured.

He pulled Yegyeol between two stalls, into the shadow of a makeshift canopy.

Yegyeol froze wide-eyed as Haryang leaned closer. He felt as if every eye in the crowd was turning toward them, though in truth the merchant was busy counting coins and the passersby were intent on their own errands.

“N-no, we can’t.”

As Haryang leaned in, Yegyeol hastily lowered the veil between them. Haryang halted at once.

It was senior brother who gave it to me, after all—he told me to cover my face properly.

Feigning innocence, Yegyeol met his gaze through the gauze. That warm, tender look held him still.

Haryang smiled.

Ah…

Why did he suddenly recall watching Haryang from afar, long ago? Was it after the martial tournament? Returning to Kunlun, surrounded by admirers, Haryang had received their congratulations. Yegyeol hadn’t dared approach, had only stolen glances from a distance.

It had been a boy’s clumsy yearning, hardly worthy even of being called a crush. He hadn’t even had the courage to step close and say “Congratulations.” Just watching had been everything.

At one point, he thought their eyes had met. At that moment, Haryang had smiled gently, as if painted. Surely it hadn’t been for him, yet Yegyeol had treasured it ever since.

Why remember that now…

His chest fluttered.

Rooted to the spot, he watched as Haryang leaned in. His heart hammered louder with every inch closed.

The shadow fell first, then Yegyeol saw his senior brother’s eyes close.

Through the thin veil, their lips brushed—only the lightest graze, no tongues, no shared breath. Just a fleeting touch.

And yet, like a petal laid upon his heart, it thrilled him utterly.

“Ah…”

Behind them, the market clamored with countless voices, but it all felt far away. In this moment, he was alone with Haryang.

“You’ll wear it properly, won’t you?”

Haryang tapped the bridge of his nose through the gauze as he asked.

At that low voice, Yegyeol felt as though waking from a spell. His face flushed scarlet, and he bobbed his head furiously.

“Yes, yes!”