TSBIRBV Ch 262

Chapter 262. Yongbong Gathering (2)

The change in Yegyeol’s expression was striking—gone was the hesitant, flustered demeanor from before, replaced by a quiet but undeniable confidence.

“What do you mean it wasn’t forced?” Namgung Un bit down on his lower lip. “That day, you were clearly kidnapped, weren’t you?”

He had truly wanted to save Yegyeol, but his reckless sense of justice had only driven him into greater danger. At the time, Yegyeol had looked as if he didn’t even know that Je Haryang was the Heavenly Demon.

“If you’re only saying this to protect me from something dangerous, please stop, Yegyeol.”

The earnest worry in Namgung Un’s face made Yegyeol press his lips together, silent.

As the silence dragged on, Un’s face darkened.

“Or… are you angry because I let you slip away back then?” His voice had sunk low and heavy.

“No. That’s not it.”

Yegyeol denied him softly, biting the inside of his cheek.

Unfortunately, since Namgung Un was a guide, he couldn’t just knock him unconscious and lock him away until the Yongbong Gathering ended. Even if he weren’t a guide, as the heir of the Namgung Clan, his disappearance would throw all of Wuhan into chaos. The competition would be disrupted at best—and at worst, Yegyeol might be exposed and branded a public enemy of the orthodox world.

“I understand if you don’t trust me,” Namgung Un continued earnestly. “But I truly came here because I want to help you.”

At his sincere plea, Yegyeol briefly reflected on the bond between them.

They had only met once before—back on the Goryong Ship when they’d both been taken hostage. It wasn’t as though Namgung Un had saved his life like that day with Senior Brother, nor had they shared enough time to build any real trust.

And yet, the depth of Un’s concern was genuine—nothing like the hollow hypocrisy of the so-called righteous sects.

“I’ll prove to you that I’m not lying,” Yegyeol said.

“But in return, bring me the one who told you about Senior Brother’s past.”

Namgung Un would never understand, no matter how much he explained.

Yegyeol had crossed half the Central Plains, all the way to Qinghai, for the sake of meeting Je Haryang again—without even realizing that one day, he himself would become Haryang’s misfortune.

His shoes had worn through; blisters had burst and festered, but he hadn’t even noticed the pain as he walked step after step, unyielding.

There was no other way. He would have to show Un, in a way he could understand.

“That…”

Namgung Un’s hesitation was written plainly across his face. Yegyeol smiled faintly, his tone light.

“How is Elder Jeok No doing these days?”

The meaning behind the question struck Namgung Un like lightning—his eyes widened in shock.

Elder Jeok No, the former Chief of the Beggars’ Union, had been living in seclusion for years—so long, in fact, that even Namgung Un barely knew of his existence.

And yet, with just a few words exchanged here, Yegyeol had immediately guessed who it was that had told Un about the Heavenly Demon’s past.

…How? How could he possibly know that?

“It seems Young Master Tang is on his way,” Yegyeol said casually, glancing at the wall. He could sense another electrical signal approaching besides Hongyeo’s.

Namgung Un, too, noticed the approaching presence, but he was so deep in thought that he reacted a moment slower.

Impossible…

Yegyeol was supposed to be a mere merchant—a man with no martial arts. So how could he possibly perceive someone through walls? Even when he extended his own spiritual sense, he couldn’t detect the faintest trace of internal energy from Yegyeol.

The more he saw, the more bewildered he became.

The Yegyeol he remembered had been a kind, capable merchant—a pitiable man bound to the Heavenly Demon’s obsession. But the Yegyeol before him now… was entirely different.

“As you know, Young Master Namgung,” Yegyeol said calmly, “I need to keep my identity hidden for now. So, for the time being, please refer to me as your Young Master.”

He deliberately omitted the name, but Namgung Un nodded seriously.

“If it’s for your safety, of course. As you wish—Young Master.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Having secured Namgung Un’s promise, Yegyeol rejoiced inwardly.

A man who valued integrity as deeply as Un would be shocked, yes—perhaps even speechless—when he saw the name Je Haryang entered into the tournament. But he would not ruin the event over it.

He might come seeking an explanation later, but by then, Yegyeol could handle it easily—perhaps even toy with him a bit.

With Elder Jeok No involved, silencing him will be simple.

It was, in short, the perfect cover.

Suppressing a hum of satisfaction, Yegyeol waved his hand lightly. “Let’s talk again soon.”

Even said politely, it was still a dismissal.

Namgung Un, who had been sitting motionless, finally rose to his feet.

“…I’ll return soon.”

He opened the door and stepped out, his shadow stretching down the corridor like lingering regret.

Moments later, Hongyeo entered the room.

“Are you unharmed?”

“Nothing happened,” Yegyeol replied.

He thought to himself that Tang Segi and Namgung Un must have crossed paths by now.

“Do you think Senior Brother will find out that Young Master Namgung appeared?”

“…Yes.”

It wasn’t an empty answer. Hongyeo, even more straight-laced than Samrang, would surely report every detail of what he saw and heard to Haryang without compromise.

“He’s not a bad person, though…” Yegyeol muttered, rolling his eyes.

Namgung Un had once grabbed him right in front of Haryang in an attempt to “save” him. If he tried something similar again, even out of good intentions, Haryang would show no mercy.

“He’s going to be more of a wild card than I thought.”

Honestly, Yegyeol was surprised.

For all his decency and righteousness, Namgung Un had faced Haryang’s killing intent head-on. He knew the man was the Heavenly Demon. He should have kept his distance, not approached again offering help.

That kind of bravery—or foolishness—took more than courage.

“Do you… like him?” Hongyeo asked quietly.

“I have some human fondness for him, sure.”

As an esper, he did feel an instinctive duty to protect guides—but that had lost meaning in this world.

Still, having spent so long in the Esper Center surrounded by those crazy seniors, Yegyeol had learned to treat guides like precious jewels. His instincts had been shaped to protect, not harm.

“But not enough to follow him if he asked,” Yegyeol said bluntly.

Something subtle flickered across Hongyeo’s expression—relief, faint but unmistakable.

“You really care about Senior Brother,” Yegyeol said softly.

Hongyeo lowered his gaze.

“How did you end up serving him, anyway?”

“That…” Hongyeo began, then glanced toward the door.

“I’ll tell you another time.”

Yegyeol’s gaze followed his, and a faint smile curved his lips.

“It seems the person we were waiting for has arrived.”

There was a knock at the door—tok tok—and Tang Segi’s voice followed.

“Are you inside?”

“Come in,” Yegyeol called.

The door opened, and Hongyeo bowed, stepping out past Tang Segi, who blinked at him in surprise.

“Was that your guard?” Tang Segi asked curiously, struck by Hongyeo’s imposing presence.

“No. He’s someone who’s accompanied me since Qinghai. Without his horsemanship, I wouldn’t have made it here on time.”

“Ah, my manners—how forgetful of me,” Tang Segi said with a bright smile, stepping closer.

“Yeg— no, my Young Master! Have you been well?”

“Of course,” Yegyeol said smoothly. “And you seem in good spirits, Young Master Tang. Do you have happy news to share?”

He already knew the answer, but he asked anyway, teasing lightly. Tang Segi’s face flushed scarlet.

“N-no, nothing like that,” he stammered, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish grin. Yegyeol guessed his love life must be progressing fairly well.

“I just met Young Master Namgung. He left in a hurry, said he had urgent business. It’s a pity—we three haven’t shared a drink in a while.”

Tang Segi sighed wistfully.

Of course he was in a hurry—he needed to contact Jeok No. The sooner he brought the old man to Yegyeol, the sooner he’d learn the truth.

“I ended up chatting with him for quite a while,” Yegyeol admitted. “I may have delayed his schedule. My apologies.”

He clicked his tongue inwardly, feeling a twinge of guilt. The poor man had been stunned enough already—no need to ruin his reputation, too.

“By the way,” Tang Segi said, lowering his voice, “what on earth happened while you were gone? The Yegyeol I remember was a merchant, and…”

Though he had explained vaguely through letters—and secured Tang Segi’s promise to give him a tournament pass—it was time to clarify the story.

“As I wrote before, my guardian opposed my participation in the martial arts tournament.”

Yegyeol lowered his eyes, voice somber.

Haryang would’ve opposed it indeed—if he knew Yegyeol’s real destination.

“I’ve only ever been a merchant,” he said, “so my guardian worried about me entering a martial competition without proper training.”

It wasn’t even a lie. Since returning to the martial world, Yegyeol had only ever followed traders on their routes.

“As you know, our merchant group is quite large, with ties all across the land…”

“Then I understand your guardian’s concern,” Tang Segi said, nodding. He had seen too many injured martial artists who had overestimated their abilities.

“But still…”

Yegyeol’s gaze dropped lower, his voice soft but resolute.

“If I don’t do this, I have no way to prove my resolve.”

Tang Segi’s expression turned solemn. He, too, knew what it was like to struggle under the weight of family expectations.

“Then you’ve already made your choice,” he said quietly.

Yegyeol smiled faintly.

From his sleeve, Tang Segi drew a golden silk envelope and handed it to him.

“As promised—the entry pass.”

The seal of the Martial Alliance gleamed—a golden emblem of an intertwined dragon and tiger biting each other’s tails.

Yegyeol traced the design with his fingers, then opened it carefully.

Inside, the name was written in elegant brush strokes:

“Unaffiliated. Je Haryang.”

Yegyeol’s lips curved into a radiant smile.

“Thank you—truly.”

He knew he could never become the dragon that name once belonged to.

But even a single loach can muddy the whole pond.

As he gazed down at the pass, a sharp, glacial light gleamed in Yegyeol’s eyes.

The storm that would engulf Wuhan had just begun.