OGHOU C34

Chapter 34

“Please, open the door.”

The instant Cheongyeon heard the voice, he knew who it belonged to. Heart alight with joy, he rushed forward and flung the door wide. Jeha entered the room with a radiant smile on his face.

‘Ah… dazzling enough to blind me.’

Cheongyeon murmured in his heart. The soft, tender boy was gone—before him now stood one who had grown, shedding the traces of childhood. His features had sharpened, his jawline honed as if it could cut, drawing sighs of admiration.

Was it that children here grew so swiftly, or was it simply because he was the protagonist? Jeha already stood a little taller than Cheongyeon himself.

‘Truly, all of Master’s effort in raising him bore its fruit.’

Cheongyeon nodded with pride swelling within him.

“What brings you here? Did you come alone?”

“Yes. Master entrusted me with an errand, and I stopped by on the way.”

Now he even descended the mountain by himself, running errands alone. What a remarkable child.

Cheongyeon reached out as if to pinch the boyish cheeks but stopped short. Even when younger, he had disliked being treated like a child. Now, doing so would be utterly inappropriate. His gaze lingered reluctantly upon Jeha’s cheeks; though still retaining a hint of their rice-cake softness, he suspected soon they would vanish entirely.

“You may.”

Reading Cheongyeon’s thoughts, Jeha took his hand and laid it upon his own cheek. However much his body had grown, this habit remained unchanged. Like a loyal pup seeking to be stroked, Jeha ever yearned for Cheongyeon’s touch.

“If you only stopped by, you’ll be leaving again soon? That is a pity.”

“No. I have time to stay for the night.”

Delighted, Cheongyeon tapped his cheeks lightly. It felt wonderful to catch up, after so long apart.

“Have you eaten yet?”

Jeha let slip a quiet laugh at the question.

“What? What is it?”

“Innkeeper, that is always the first thing you ask. Did I eat? If not, when will I?”

“…Was it?”

It had simply become habit, etched into him over decades. Cheongyeon chuckled along with him.

“Not yet. I wanted to share a meal with you again.”

“Perfect timing then. I was just about to eat too.”

Cheongyeon, delighted, led him downstairs, seated him at a table, and brought out dishes from the kitchen.

“So, tell me—what errand did Master give you? Was it important?”

Jeha, chewing quickly, swallowed before he spoke.

“He commanded me to journey to Mount Hwiryong in Sichuan and gather Wolya Grass.”

“Hwiryongsan… Wolya Grass…?”

The names tugged faintly at his memory. Five years had passed since possession, and his recollections of the “original” blurred steadily. Great turning points he had written down, but smaller events slipped easily beyond recall.

“These herbs grow only around Mount Hwiryong. Master has been researching them of late.”

He explained further that Master had judged him mature enough to run such errands alone now. Hearing this, broken fragments of memory began stirring in Cheongyeon’s mind.

“Alone… tasked alone.”

Ah. Yes. Now he remembered.

This had been one of Jeha’s missions in the original tale—but Jeha had stubbornly refused to complete it alone. Reluctant to leave Master’s side even for a day, he had pestered endlessly until Somyeong himself accompanied him to search for the herb.

“Then why… why has he set out alone this time?”

Had he grown too upright, too mature, to cling childishly any longer? Lost in thought, Cheongyeon studied him across the table.

“What’s wrong, innkeeper?”

“Nothing…. But do you know where on the mountain it grows?”

“Master gave me clear directions.”

In the story, the Wolya Grass had been hidden deep within a cave, hard to spot. For Somyeong, of course, finding it had been effortless. They located it swiftly… and then? Something else had occurred, hadn’t it? Or perhaps not. No matter how hard he tried, Cheongyeon could not recall, and so resigned himself back to eating.

“When do you depart?”

“I planned to leave as soon as the meal is finished. If I hurry, I can return before dusk—”

At that instant, Jeha’s smile froze. His gaze had shifted past Cheongyeon. Curious, Cheongyeon turned in his chair.

“Brother.”

The one standing behind him was Dokyeong—who at some point had taken to calling him “Brother.”

“Young master…?”

Startled, Cheongyeon got to his feet. When had he come in? That smiling face still made his heart leap.

“When did you arrive? From Anhui all the way here without a word…”

“Just now. I happened to pass through. And how many times have I asked you—please, dispense with all formality when addressing me.”

“Ah… right, you did.”

Cheongyeon smiled awkwardly. Today seemed to be “drop by unannounced” day, with both showing up as if arranged.

Dokyeong’s gaze found Jeha, rigid in his seat. He spoke brightly.

“I’d heard rumors that the famed Young Hero Baek was in Sichuan. And indeed, here you are at the inn.”

“And what of Namgung’s third young master? You’re said to be endlessly busy—what has you free today?”

“And yet am I busier than you, Young Hero Baek?”

Again with this. Cheongyeon looked helplessly between them as barbs flew.

“It is said the third son of Namgung roams all under heaven, mingling with heirs of every martial clan. What grand scheme is it you weave?”

“And what crime is there in strengthening ties among peers of the martial families? Your thinking is painfully narrow. Indeed, you’ll never be a great man like this.”

“Young master!”

“Enough, enough!”

Cheongyeon had to step in. Every meeting between these two devolved to ironical jabs—never a true fight, yet never peace either.

“Stop this rivalry already. When will you cease acting like children?”

Jeha folded his arms, glaring.

“Innkeeper speaks truth. For one approaching adulthood, should you truly be squabbling so childishly, young master?”

“Jeha, enough out of you as well!”

Turning quickly, Cheongyeon asked Dokyeong,

“Have you eaten? If not, shall we all eat together?”

“No. I must be going elsewhere. I only wished to glance upon my brother’s face.”

“And just where do you vanish to, that rumors tell of Namgung’s third son flashing east and west in the blink of an eye?”

Dokyeong only shook his head gently, easy smile upon his lips.

“There are things, Brother. Someday, I shall tell you.”

“…I see. Very well.”

“If you find a free moment later, might you share a cup of tea with me—”

“That is impossible!”

Jeha’s voice rang like steel. Cheongyeon turned in surprise only to find him setting down his chopsticks with a sharp crack.

“The innkeeper is to accompany me. Did we not agree? Together to Mount Hwiryong?”

“…We did?”

“Yes. You shall come with me. And so, young master—spare yourself from returning.”

When had he agreed to any such thing? Cheongyeon blinked rapidly, glancing between the two. Dokyeong, however, only smiled knowingly, inclining his head.

“If that is the case, then I will not intrude. Until our next meeting, Brother.”

“Ah… yes. Take care.”

“Stay well.”

Flinging his silk sleeves with customary elegance, Dokyeong departed. Cheongyeon sat down again, frowning at Jeha.

“Go together to Mount Hwiryong? Were you serious?”

“Indeed. I would have you join me. The mountain is not far from Chengdu, and the scenery along the way is said to be splendid. Think of it as a day’s outing.”

“If I go, I’ll only slow you down.”

Still, the idea tempted him. He hadn’t left the inn in too long, too bound by duties. To see Wolya Grass with his own eyes was equally alluring—wasn’t it the very herb Master Somyeong one day used to treat plagues sweeping across all Zhongyuan, earning fame as a healer? To glimpse such a medicine ahead of time—was that not his privilege, as one who had possessed this body?

“That matters not. The task is not urgent—we may take our time.”

“Even so…”

“Is there something weighing on you?”

Indeed there was. To rush heedlessly into unknown events was cause for unease. No great calamity, surely—he would have remembered that—but even so, he could not entirely settle his mind.

‘If my own heart feels this unsettled, how can I send him off alone?’

He knew Jeha had grown far stronger, stronger than himself by far. But five years ago, during that brief absence when Muho appeared—it had left its scar. To send him alone into the mountains once more—that, truly, he could not do.

Perhaps if he accompanied him—armed with some small tool or weapon—then should trouble arise, he might yet be of use.

And so, yielding at last to Jeha’s earnest entreaties, Cheongyeon nodded. Rising with resolve, he strode toward the kitchen.

“What are you doing, innkeeper?” asked Haewoo curiously.

Shaking his head with a faint, sly smile, Cheongyeon drew out a scented pouch. Emptying its contents, he filled it with a fistful of pungent spices from the shelves. In an emergency, it might serve as a weapon.