HDCLSSRS Ch 42

Chapter 42 A Taste of Frustration (4)

 

“It’s not my fault.”

It was because he made that strange sound. As expected, he blamed Seong Muyeon.

Blood rushing to his nether regions made his head feel dizzy. He swallowed dryly on instinct, and sweat began to bead on his palms.

“…Seong Muyeon.”

His voice, husky with desire, flowed out softly.

But Seong Muyeon, who had been moaning continuously, had fallen silent at some point.

“…Hey.”

Instead, even breathing filled with faint panting could be heard.

He had fallen asleep.

“……”

Last night, after being tormented for a long while, he had collapsed into unconscious sleep. It seemed he still hadn’t gotten enough rest. On top of that, with the massage, his body must have relaxed completely, and he’d slipped into deep slumber in no time.

“……”

Baek Ryeoil got off the bed, gathered himself, and sat down on the floor, grabbing his head as though having a seizure.

“Damn it!”

A deep sense of defeat washed over him.

What had he expected, really? He kept telling himself it was out of pure intentions, yet deep down, he had been looking for another excuse to share bodies again.

“Have I really gone mad?”

Was this acceptable for someone walking the ascetic path?

“……”

Why wouldn’t it be?

Baek Ryeo-il sprang to his feet. Some of his martial brothers had already married, had two or three children, and those kids had even grown up and joined as third-generation disciples.

He hadn’t toyed with a woman who already had a family, so what was the problem? Majincheon had only warned him not to bring back any illegitimate children. Since both of them were men, such a mishap was utterly impossible.

No matter how he thought about it, there was nothing wrong.

But he’d already made a promise with Seong Muyeon. That once the night passed, they would treat it as if nothing had happened.

“You idiot! Why did you make such a promise!”

Baek Ryeo-il beat his own chest in frustration.

“By the way, Young Master, there’s something I’ve been wondering about.”

The one asking was Wang Hojun. He had come to visit and was now staring intently at Seong Muyeon.

“What is it?”

“You look healthier these days. You even seem to have a bit of color in your face. Have you been taking some kind of elixir?”

Hack, cough!

Only a few—Wang Hojun, some in the Financial Department, and the Medical Hall head—knew the real state of Seong Muyeon’s health.

Seong Muyeon’s face turned pale as he choked and coughed violently for a while. Wang Hojun quickly handed him a handkerchief and shook his head.

“Looks like I was mistaken. You seem to be the same as before.”

Wang Hojun seemed worried that Seong Muyeon might cough up blood again.

“Haha… Hahaha… It’s a misunderstanding. Yes. Where in this remote valley would I even find elixirs? It’s not like I raided the Huashan treasury.”

Though he had consumed something… and something very good, at that…

“In any case, take care of your health. If you don’t…”

Wang Hojun left the sentence unfinished. But its meaning was clear.

If you die, who’s going to handle all the menial work in the Finance Division?

No matter how hard they pushed through paperwork like their lives depended on it, mountains of it would still pile up the next day. With thousands of members living in a major sect, it was inevitable.

They desperately needed every hand they could get. Wang Hojun was clearly hoping Seong Muyeon would return to duty soon.

From that day on, Seong Muyeon stopped leaving his room. As Majincheon had advised, he planned not to give Huashan even the slightest excuse to expel him.

What could they do?

If he wasn’t in sight, they couldn’t start trouble. And no one would be bold enough to barge into Chwijeongjae, where the terrifying Baek Ryeo-il stood guard.

It was a flawless plan.

“……”

Barring the boredom.

Even Baek Ryeoil had taken up his sword again, claiming he’d neglected his training, and hadn’t shown his face all day.

Having nothing better to do, Seong Muyeon glared at the empty corners of his room. If even a speck of dust caught his eye, he flipped the place upside down, scrubbing and cleaning until it sparkled.

That lasted a day or two. But after scrubbing every room in Chwijeongjae to a gleam, the boredom returned.

Seong Muyeon, now suffocating with restlessness, sprawled out on the bench in the courtyard. He saw the occasional head pass by over the wall, but nothing noteworthy happened.

I wish something would happen.

That was how bored he was.

If he didn’t watch the clouds drifting overhead, it felt as though time itself had stopped. He even began to miss the times when Baek Ryeo-il had chased him around with murderous intent.

Dangerous, yes—but at least it had been fun.

Just then, a head popped up over the wall. He recognized the person immediately.

“Master Kang?”

“Young Master! Where is Senior Brother?”

Kang Ung was looking around nervously, clearly agitated.

He was the only one who spoke to Seong Muyeon without any hesitation. Even the disciples who usually accompanied him were standing far off, blinking but not daring to approach. Likely due to the incident with Jang Hansu, they had all decided to keep their distance from Seong Muyeon.

“Don’t worry about them. They’ll have to leave soon anyway, or they’ll be late for training.”

Kang Ung waved them off, and the boys scampered away.

“Don’t you need to attend training, Master Kang?”

“Ah…”

Kang Ung’s expression dimmed slightly at the question. But he quickly wiped away the gloom and smiled brightly.

“This is the time I usually spend training directly with my master. But more importantly, are you feeling better?”

“Wh-why do you ask?”

Seong Muyeon flinched as if he’d been caught.

His illness was still a secret to almost everyone. And he intended to keep how he had recovered a secret forever.

“I was there yesterday too. It was really surprising. You don’t seem to have learned any martial arts, yet you managed to block Senior Brother Jang’s strike with such quick thinking. Thanks to that, no one was hurt…”

“……”

The little guy had sharp eyes.

Most of the disciples, especially those who arrived late, hadn’t even realized what had happened.

“And after that, I saw Senior Brother Baek taking you away. You didn’t look well at all. I was really worried. Ordinary people can suffer fatal injuries even if grazed by a master’s attack.”

“I-I’m fine! Look at me! I’m totally fine now, right?”

Seong Muyeon waved his arms. Only then did Kang Ung’s expression ease into a relaxed smile.

“That’s a relief.”

“If you don’t mind, would you like to come in? Have a cup of tea?”

Kang Ung’s face lit up at the offer. He nodded and walked around the wall to come in through the door.

Unfortunately, at that moment, a few of the disciples witnessed Kang Ung and Seong Muyeon having a pleasant conversation. Seong Muyeon immediately sensed their gaze but pretended not to notice. He figured the young disciples wouldn’t dare come all the way into Chwijeongjae just to pick a fight, so it wouldn’t be a problem.

“How shameless.”

They muttered among themselves, but he ignored it.

That was a mistake.

Seong Muyeon could take it in stride without batting an eye. But not Kang Ung.

As he was about to step inside, Kang Ung froze mid-step and called out to them.

“You there. What did you just say?”

“Pardon? What do you mean?”

“I asked what you just said.”

His quiet tone held a sharp edge. The boys just blinked and shrugged, seemingly confused.

“We don’t know what you mean…”

“Let’s just go in. I’m fine.”

Seong Muyeon tried to stop him, and Kang Ung reluctantly turned away. Still, he shot them a fierce glare as he did.

Kang Ung let out a deep sigh.

“I’m sorry. They’re just angry. It’ll pass soon. Please don’t take it to heart.”

…Would it really?

Seong Muyeon had his doubts. Hostility toward the Demonic Cult was only going to intensify with time. Eventually, just the mention of the word “demon” would spark fights, regardless of sect or faction.

For now, things were relatively peaceful. Aside from Jang Hansu, no one had openly come after him.

Seong Muyeon could brush off such comments without a flicker of emotion. But not everyone could be that thick-skinned.

Sure enough, just as they were about to leave, an outright sneer rang out. This time, the insult was directed at Kang Ung.

“Traitor.”

“Hey!”

Kang Ung couldn’t hold back anymore and chased after them. Seong Muyeon had no time to stop him.

“What do you think you’re doing? If you’ve got something to say, say it to my face. Don’t mutter behind my back.”

“What did we do?”

“What did you just say? Say it again.”

“You’ll regret this, you know?”

The boys sneered.

“Me? Why? I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Fine. We said traitor. Why are you hanging around that guy?”

One of the boys said, pointing at Seong Muyeon.

“After what happened yesterday. Sahyuk Jang is bedridden, and yet you, as the senior disciple, act like this?”

The boy seemed to have a lot to say and let it all pour out. At the same time, Kang Ung’s face flushed red with anger.

“Apologize. Right now.”

“No. Did I say anything false?”

“I said apologize!”

Kang Ung lunged at them.

Still a child himself, he fell easily for the taunt. He dove in without thinking, only for one of the boys to slyly stick out a foot and trip him, making him fall in a humiliating heap.

He quickly got up, huffing with fury. He’d made a fool of himself.

“How cowardly!”

“You tripped on your own, Senior brother. I’m starting to doubt whether you’re even fit to be the senior disciple. Just because you joined a bit earlier? Big deal. Isn’t that why you still don’t have a formal master-disciple bond?”

Kang Ung froze. His tightly clenched fists trembled—clearly, he was at his limit.