HDCLSSRS Ch 137

Chapter 137 Let’s Go Back(3)

“What do you mean by that? What will you do if we don’t go? We still need to find Seong Mujae, retrieve the Spirit Seal, and get the Jecheon Deok seal stamp… Even if you weren’t close, shouldn’t we at least pay our respects?”

Seong Muyeon pushed against his body, but he didn’t budge an inch.

“What does it matter? It’s not like you killed him.”

At those blunt words, Seong Muyeon let out a sigh.

“If this is because of me, then please don’t. We’re in the middle of a war right now—drawing unnecessary attention could only cause trouble…”

Baek Ryeoil let out a loud snort.

“Who said it was because of you? Damn, do you even know how strict those physicians are? They won’t even let me touch alcohol! What kind of nonsense are you thinking? Ridiculous!”

His tone was sharp, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and Seong Muyeon’s face flushed bright red.

“If it’s not, then fine—why are you getting angry?!”

“Whatever! I said I’m not going back today!”

Baek Ryeoil stubbornly grabbed him and started walking toward the bustling street.

Even on ordinary days, Baek Ryeoil’s tall build and striking features drew attention wherever he went. Now, with his chest partially exposed and his collar fluttering, every eye turned to him. He paid no mind, scanning around with quick movements in search of a suitable place. Seong Muyeon, though not bad-looking himself, couldn’t compete with Baek Ryeoil and felt his face heat up under the attention.

Because it was still early morning, none of the taverns were open. In the end, Baek Ryeoil had to settle for the wine sold at a nearby inn.

But he never even got the chance to taste it. The moment they entered the room, Baek Ryeoil’s face turned deathly pale. Though he seemed fine earlier, it was still too soon for him to be moving around freely.

With no choice, Seong Muyeon rented a room and helped him lie down. Baek Ryeoil tried to play it off, insisting he was just tired from walking after a long time. But the moment his head touched the pillow, he fell sound asleep.

It felt as though a storm had just passed. Exhausted, Seong Muyeon quietly looked down at Baek Ryeoil’s sleeping face. Though he had recovered quickly these past few days, his relaxed features in sleep made him appear more fragile than ever.

Seong Muyeon gently brushed his dry, cracked lips before stepping out of the room.

“Is your companion all right?” the inn boy asked worriedly as he came downstairs.

“He’s fine. I’ll step out for a bit and come back to order food.”

He found a large merchant house and ordered five bottles of premium white liquor. After all the trouble Baek Ryeoil had gone through for him, what were five bottles? He would have bought them for life if he could.

Unfortunately, they were out of stock. The merchant promised to have them ready in three days, and Seong Muyeon had to return empty-handed.

On his way back, he stopped by an apothecary and purchased ointment and fresh bandages for Baek Ryeoil’s wounds.

When he opened the door to their room, a shadow standing motionless in the dark caught his eye. The curtains by the window had been drawn, leaving the room dimly lit. Through the faint light beyond the drapes, Baek Ryeoil’s bare upper body stood revealed—muscles sharply defined and without excess, so striking that Seong Muyeon’s heart nearly dropped.

Baek Ryeoil’s downcast eyes lifted toward him, expression slightly furrowed as he asked in a hasty tone,

“Where did you go?”

“I—I went to buy some medicine…”

“Then what are you standing there for? Come in.”

Seong Muyeon, still dumbfounded, stood there with his mouth slightly open, watching as Baek Ryeoil stepped forward, pulled him inside, and closed the door behind him.

“I thought you ran away.”

“Why would I run away? I’d like to live a long life, thank you very much.”

Snapping out of it, Seong Muyeon drew back the curtains, brightening the room. He sat Baek Ryeoil down and began unwrapping his bandages.

“Your wounds… they’re all healed?”

The small cuts had disappeared without a trace.

“I told you, didn’t I? Once the bone sets, I’ll be fine.”

Baek Ryeoil yawned. After a good sleep, his energy had clearly returned.

His recovery was astonishing—borderline monstrous. For most people, broken bones would take a month or two to heal, yet for Baek Ryeoil, it had been barely two or three weeks.

The ointment and bandages Seong Muyeon had bought were now useless. As if to mock his wasted effort, Baek Ryeoil scratched his stomach and muttered,

“I’m starving to death.”

He lazily draped his shirt over his shoulders and left the room, only to return moments later. Soon, the table was laden with an extravagant spread.

“…Is it really all right for us to be this relaxed?”

Seong Muyeon sat down, eyes scanning over the dishes. Though he hadn’t eaten breakfast, his appetite was nowhere to be found. After all, the man they’d spoken to just yesterday had died only hours ago.

“No other news?”

“…Sorry?”

“I mean, besides that incident—anything else I should know?”

Baek Ryeoil’s eyes narrowed slightly as he asked, though his chopsticks continued moving relentlessly. Unlike Seong Muyeon, he didn’t look the least bit anxious.

“Uh… nothing that I can think of.”

“Think carefully. Maybe you killed another hundred people and forgot.”

“I didn’t!”

Just as irritation began to rise, a plate was suddenly pushed in front of Seong Muyeon. His eyes widened.

A large fish, perfectly deboned and white as snow, lay neatly on the plate.

“You’re always so much trouble.”

When Seong Muyeon still didn’t pick up his chopsticks, Baek Ryeoil clicked his tongue and scooped a chunk of fish, pushing it right into his mouth.

“You’ve been slacking off in your morning training lately. Keep that up and you’ll end up in real trouble, you hear?”

Though his tone was fierce, the words carried no real threat. The savory, tender fish melted in Seong Muyeon’s mouth, and at last, his appetite returned. As he began eating, Baek Ryeoil nodded in satisfaction and started serving himself.

“Oh, right. There’s one more thing.”

Now that food filled his stomach, Seong Muyeon suddenly remembered something.

“Seong Muguk came to see me.”

Baek Ryeoil’s eyes flew wide, and he quickly swallowed the food in his mouth.

“What?! Why would he—!”

Seong Muyeon told him everything exactly as it had happened.

Yesterday, he might have been cautious with his words, but now that the secrets between them were laid bare, there was nothing left to hide.

As Baek Ryeoil listened to Seong Muguk’s proposal and threats, his expression hardened.

“…That vile bastard.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“If there’s a spy within our ranks, that’s even more reason for you to stay put. Don’t go anywhere. Whatever he’s plotting—it won’t be something ordinary.”

“…Understood.”

After their meal, the two sat by the window, leisurely watching passersby below.

For the first time in a long while, Seong Muyeon felt truly at ease. Though he noticed that the number of armed martial artists on the streets had grown significantly, at this moment, neither worry nor urgency touched him.

Eventually, when people-watching grew dull, Baek Ryeoil began toying with Seong Muyeon’s hair, lounging with his long legs stretched out, looking every bit like a lazy king of beasts.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Seong Muyeon said suddenly.

Baek Ryeoil lifted his eyes toward him lazily.

“You said you had something to tell me back in the cave. What was it? You can say it now.”

“Cough!”

Baek Ryeoil abruptly choked, hacking as though his lungs might come out.

“Are—are you all right?!”

His face flushed red as he fumbled for the water bowl, gulping it down desperately.

Thud!

He slammed the bowl down and stood frozen, back turned. Curious, Seong Muyeon stepped closer.

“The seal?”

At that word, Baek Ryeoil visibly flinched and pressed his back against the wall.

“What’s wrong?”

His reaction was far too strange. Though the coughing had stopped, his face remained scarlet, and sweat trickled down his neck.

“You can tell me the truth about the seal.”

“Wh–what? Tell you what truth?” Baek Ryeoil shouted nervously.

Seong Muyeon sighed and shook his head.

“You’re still not fully recovered, are you? Don’t be stubborn—go lie down. Who’s going to see your pride anyway? I won’t tell anyone. Just rest.”

“……”

Baek Ryeoil’s lips pressed tightly together, as though struck right in the heart.