HDCLSSRS Ch 153

Chapter 153 Choice (3)

After uttering those final words, Baek Ryeoil turned his back without hesitation, leaving his stunned fellow disciples behind.

“Baek Ryeoil! Don’t you dare walk away!”

“I’ll go after him,” said Jang Hansu, quickly hurrying out in pursuit before anyone could stop him.

“…”

Sanggeol exhaled a long, weary sigh and slumped heavily into his chair, rubbing the corners of his tired eyes.

“Baek-hyung is the kind of man who does whatever he sets his mind to,” one disciple murmured cautiously. “What will you do now, Master? Are you truly going to expel him?”

A mirthless laugh escaped Sanggeol’s lips.

Expel him?

He had said it in anger, but in truth, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Baek Ryeoil was Mount Hua’s most promising disciple — the sect’s greatest talent and its brightest future. Losing him would deal a fatal blow, one that could shake Mount Hua’s very foundation.

That simply could not be allowed to happen.

Why… why is he doing this? What does that man mean to him?

Moments later, Jang Hansu returned, his face stiff and grim. Even before he spoke, Sanggeol knew — he had failed to stop him. Not that it came as a surprise. Baek Ryeoil was not a man who could be stopped once he’d made up his mind. Not by anyone but his master, Ma Jincheon, and even then, only barely.

“Senior Brother has entered meditation.”

Hansu’s voice was heavy.

“So he’s decided to defy us to the end,” Sanggeol muttered.

Baek Ryeoil had exhausted much of his internal energy since dawn. Once he replenished his qi and strength through meditation, he would no doubt act immediately.

What should I do?

Time was slipping away. A decision had to be made before Ryeoil completed his meditation. Outside, the remnants of the Ghost-Slaying Unit were still lurking, waiting. He would want to face them at his full power. That gave Sanggeol perhaps one or two hours at most.

I should have ended it sooner.

His jaw tightened as he remembered that pale-faced young noble — the one who had waltzed into Mount Hua and stirred chaos ever since. It had been obvious from the beginning that he would bring disaster.

Taking him in under the excuse of “seeking asylum” had been a mistake born of misplaced pity.

Even now… I could still—

Sanggeol’s fists clenched, a cruel light flickering in his eyes.

“…”

Watching his teacher’s expression, Jang Hansu’s face hardened.

He knew his master well — Sanggeol’s devotion to Mount Hua ran bone-deep. Whether it was Baek Ryeoil or Young Master Muyeon, he would never allow anything that could stain the sect’s honor. If it came to it, he would do whatever it took to stop them.

I have to act… before this goes too far.

If things continued like this, the alliance — and Mount Hua itself — would tear apart from within.

Leaving the room, Hansu’s eyes fell on Ryeoil’s quarters. A few disciples stood guard outside, their expressions uneasy.

Meditation to restore qi was a delicate process — any disturbance could lead to qi deviation, crippling the practitioner. None of them approved of what Ryeoil was doing, but they couldn’t just abandon him unguarded either. And so, reluctantly, they stayed.

Anger flared hot in Hansu’s chest. He turned sharply and strode off toward another residence — the one where Jegal Un had locked himself away.

Before anyone could stop him, he stormed up to the door and pounded on it with both fists.

“Jegal Un! Come out! How long do you plan to hide in there?!”

Startled servants of the Jegal Clan gasped and rushed to restrain him.

“D-Daoist sir! Please, you can’t— this is the Young Master’s chamber—”

“Damn the titles! If he’s alive, tell him to come out and face me! If not, then he can clean up this mess he’s made! Jegal Un!”

Hansu shook off the servants clinging to his arms. Their untrained bodies were no match for his strength; they stumbled back, powerless. It took four or five trained guards to finally restrain him.

“This is outrageous! First you seize the prison, and now you threaten the heir of the Jegal Clan?!”

“You people— you flaunt your clan name when it suits you, but now that your estate’s in chaos, your precious young master hides away like a coward. You want the privileges, but none of the responsibility!”

Hansu’s sharp retort left the steward’s face flushing red with anger.

“Watch your tongue! You’re insulting the Jegal Clan!”

“Then bring him here right now,” Hansu snapped. “Put him in front of me, and maybe I’ll speak a little more politely.”

“You—Mount Hua truly dares—!”

“Uncle, it’s fine.”

The door creaked open. Jegal Un stepped out. At once, the room fell silent, the tension snapping taut.

His face was pale, his eyes sunken with exhaustion — a ghost of his usual composed self.

For the first time, Hansu hesitated, guilt prickling faintly in his chest. But he quickly straightened his back, covering it with forced arrogance.

“Well, look who finally decided to show his face.”

Ordinarily, Jegal Un would’ve bristled at such words. Now, he merely looked at him with calm, hollow eyes.

“I apologize. I should have come out sooner. The fault is mine. Please, come inside.”

Hansu brushed off the hands still gripping his arms and followed Jegal Un into the room with deliberate boldness.

The interior was immaculate — spotless to the point of sterility. Not a speck of dust, not a wrinkle out of place. It was so pristine it felt less like a living space and more like a shrine to order itself.

“Forgive me for the poor hospitality,” Jegal Un said, quietly pouring tea.

The simple act sent a chill down Hansu’s spine.

“…Is something wrong?”

“N-no, nothing.”

He watched the other man’s steady, precise movements as he poured the tea — gestures that were almost unnervingly measured — and finally let out a sigh.

“It’s strange, isn’t it? Who would’ve imagined that the two of us, after nearly killing each other earlier, would now be sitting here drinking tea?”

Jegal Un’s hand froze midair.

“…We fought?”

“…You don’t remember?”

Jegal Un stared into empty space, his expression blank. Tea overflowed the rim of his cup before he seemed to realize it, hastily wiping it clean.

“There are gaps in my memory,” he admitted quietly. “These past weeks, there have been… missing pieces. I’d find myself suddenly in the training yard without knowing how I got there. At the time, I thought nothing of it — only later did I realize what had happened.”

“…”

He took a long sip of tea before continuing, his voice distant.

“I don’t know what’s happening. It feels like I’ve been busy — constantly — and yet I can’t remember what I’ve done. It’s as though I’ve lost something crucial, and no matter how hard I search, I can’t find it. I just keep turning in circles.”

“…”

All anger drained from Hansu. Only weary pity remained.

“Is that true?”

Jegal Un looked up, eyes tired but earnest.

“Young Master Muyeon…” He hesitated, pain flickering across his features. “Did he really kill Paeng Wongeum? When I came to, my brother was already… gone. But I heard there were many witnesses. Did you see it, Dojang Jang?”

Hansu shook his head.

“No. I lost consciousness before it happened. But Master Sanggeol and Senior Baek said they saw it with their own eyes.”

“I see…”

Both men fell silent, sipping their tea in uneasy quiet.

Jegal Un’s long absence, it seemed, wasn’t out of guilt — but confusion. He had been struggling to piece together fragments of memory that no longer aligned.

What am I supposed to get from him?

Hansu had come looking for answers, but the longer they spoke, the deeper his frustration grew.

At least, he thought bitterly, I haven’t lost my mind yet.

“I heard Mount Hua took over the prison.”

Jegal Un’s tone was calm, almost casual. But Hansu froze, lowering his cup. Technically, this estate belonged to the Jegal Clan — and he had been one of those who helped seize control of it.

“That’s… not—”

“I don’t mean to criticize,” Jegal Un interrupted softly. “When the head of the house falters, disorder is inevitable. It’s only natural.”

He stood, straightening his robes with quiet grace. “I’ll take care of my duties now.”

The words came as an unexpected relief. Hansu quickly rose to follow as Jegal Un stepped outside.

“Young Master, are you all right?”

The clan retainers who had been waiting anxiously rushed toward him the moment he appeared.

“I’m fine,” Jegal Un assured them gently. “I’m sorry for worrying you. Uncle, how is the situation?”

“The dead have been gathered and the wounded are being treated,” the steward replied gravely. “Master Jang has regained consciousness, but one outer disciple of Mount Hua and Lord Yang Hagakju have yet to wake. We’re still identifying the deceased. And Young Master Muyeon…”

The man hesitated, glancing uneasily at Hansu.

“That’s enough. I’ll see to him myself,” Jegal Un said.

He waved off the attendants who tried to follow, walking with quiet composure down the corridor. Hansu trailed behind at a respectful distance.

It was a relief to see Jegal Un moving again, but as Hansu studied his expression — that faintly dazed, hollow look, the sharpness gone from his once brilliant eyes — worry gnawed at him all the more.