OGHOU C35

Chapter 35

After the meal, Jeha briefly excused himself. Not long after, he returned, leading a horse by the reins to the front of the inn. Having finished his own preparations and waiting by the door, Cheongyeon turned at the sound and stepped outside, blinking in surprise.

“What’s all this now?”

“It isn’t far, but since we’ll need to leave the outskirts of Chengdu, I thought riding would be more comfortable for you, Innkeeper. So, I borrowed a horse.”

“You borrowed it—for me? Wait, do you even know how to ride?”

The only riding I’ve ever done was that time on a school trip to Jeju Island!

“I’ve ridden a few times, before learning qĭngōng,” Jeha said, smiling.

“A few times? That was years ago!”

Despite Cheongyeon’s worried tone, Jeha merely grinned, swung onto the horse in one fluent motion, and extended a hand.

“There’s no need to worry, Innkeeper.”

“……”

Cheongyeon looked from the horse to Jeha, then back again, before finally surrendering and taking the offered hand. Jeha’s sturdy arm tugged him upward and seated him neatly upon the saddle.

“I’ll ride slowly.”

As Jeha spoke, he clicked the reins and set the horse to a gentle trot. Gripping tightly at Jeha’s arms where they circled in front of him, Cheongyeon tried to suppress the nervous flutter in his chest.

The rise and fall of the horse’s gait unsettled his balance. Instinct told him clearly—this body had never once ridden a horse before.

When they cleared the central district of Chengdu, Jeha urged the horse to a quicker pace. The faster it went, the more Cheongyeon’s anxiety grew. He turned slightly to call out.

“Slow… slow down a little, please.”

Catching the alarm on his face, Jeha gave a quick nod and eased the reins, letting the pace fall once more. Relieved, Cheongyeon exhaled softly.

“Wow… it’s been ages since Jeju Island.”

“Jeju Island? Where’s that?”

“Oh, just… somewhere. Anyway, how on earth did you afford to rent a horse?”

“Afford it? Innkeeper, I’m taller than you now—don’t treat me like a child.”

“Taller? Barely. You’re ahead by the length of a finger joint at best.”

“Then I’ll outgrow you soon enough!”

Jeha had always been oddly sensitive about height. He hated recalling the days when he’d looked up at him. Knowing all too well how much taller Jeha would grow yet, Cheongyeon bit back a laugh. He might as well tease him while time still allowed.

“Besides, Master always gives me plenty of travel funds.”

“Does he? Then buy me some tánghúlu.”

“You want one? Shall I go right now?”

“Hey—no, it’s a joke!”

Cheongyeon burst into laughter, having to stop him as he started to rein the horse around.

“The little boy who used to gobble tanghulu with me—where has he gone, all of a sudden?”

“If you hadn’t lied to me, I’d have enjoyed them even more.”

“Lied? What lie?”

“When you told me Master had already paid for your lodging and meals in advance, and didn’t need my money. You said that only to stop me from insisting, didn’t you?”

“You… you remembered that?”

Cheongyeon gaped. It wasn’t being caught in a lie that startled him—it was that Jeha still remembered something so trivial from five whole years ago. His memory, clearly, was as sharp as ever.

“I’m not an idiot. Of course I knew.”

Jeha’s voice turned gruffer as his hands tightened on the reins.

“You’ve always been so kind—to me, and to Young Master Namgung as well.”

“What does he have to do with this?”

“You warned me to be cautious around him, and yet you yourself treated him like a brother—chatting, laughing, calling him affectionately ‘Brother.’”

“Were you jealous? If you want, you can call me that too.”

“…That’s not it.”

The horse had begun climbing a sloping path. Around them, thick greenery exhaled the aroma of damp earth and fresh leaves. Cheongyeon gazed in wonder.

“The scenery really is lovely. They said it was, and it’s true. I must’ve been working too long without rest; just being somewhere peaceful like this clears the mind.”

“Then next time, shall we go somewhere even farther?”

“Farther? Where?”

“When I come of age, I plan to enter the Martial Arts Tournament. Will you come with me then?”

“The… Martial Tournament?”

Ah, of course. The very one where, in the original story, Jeha had fought brilliantly and taken victory. Countless duels must be held in this world, yet only one was ever described in the novel—and it was four years from now.

“You’re already preparing for it?”

“Preparing early is best. And if you’re there with me, that alone will give me strength.”

“All right. I’ll come.”

Smiling brightly, he nodded.

No matter how clumsy the writer Mina had been in many things, she described that tournament scene beautifully—the moment Jeha triumphed was unforgettable.

To witness the boy he had watched grow realize his potential with his own eyes—what a thrill that would be. His heart swelled already at the thought.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Jeha’s low, happy laugh trickled through the air, warm against his ear.

Soon after, he raised a finger, pointing ahead across the rolling crest.

“From there, we should dismount and go on foot.”

Once they crested the hill, Jeha pulled back the reins and stopped the horse. He dismounted first, then offered his hand to help him down before securing the animal to a tree.

Thankfully, the incline was mild, and the path easy to walk. They moved on side by side, pushing through the brush and exchanging bits of idle conversation along the way.

“Jeha.”

“Yes?”

“Nothing exciting happening lately?”

“Exciting?”

Cheongyeon paused, searching for words. What he wanted to ask was whether Jeha’s feelings toward his Master had begun to change—how deeply now he admired him. But phrasing it outright would only make the boy uncomfortable.

“Hmm. You’re sixteen now, aren’t you? That’s about the age when your body and… your heart start to change. Don’t you think?”

“Well, I suppose that’s true.”

“For example?”

Jeha pondered, eyes darting upward in thought.

“The physical changes are the most noticeable. I’m becoming more like a man now. Ah—Master said it’s natural, that it happens to all men, so I mustn’t worry if—”

“No, not that! Not that! Absolutely not!”

“…Pardon?”

Flustered, waving both hands, Cheongyeon nearly shouted.

“That’s not what I meant! I meant your heart! How about emotional changes?”

Heaven spare him from a lecture on puberty right now. Wiping a bead of sweat from his brow, he tried again.

“My heart…? Well, I’ve never strayed far from Master’s teachings. I’d say little has changed. But my view of the world has broadened—I suppose that means I have more goals now, and more things I wish to accomplish.”

That wasn’t exactly what he’d meant either. Frowning softly, Cheongyeon decided to be more direct.

“Then… isn’t there anyone you find yourself thinking about lately? Someone whose happiness matters more than others? Someone you want to make smile?”

“Ah. If you mean someone like that, of course—it’s Master.”

Certain in tone, Jeha’s answer came without pause. A flash of relief settled in Cheongyeon’s chest. So it was still his Master after all.

“Master raised me since childhood, after all. He’s taught me everything. Though when I was young, his strictness sometimes made me lonely or resentful—but, as you once told me, with time comes understanding.”

“I’m glad. It sounds like you’re getting along well with him now.”

“It’s because of you, Innkeeper. You helped me see his teachings in the right light, instead of misunderstanding them.”

His gaze upon him was warm, grateful. It reassured Cheongyeon—the relationship between master and disciple hadn’t diverged far from the story he remembered.

“There’s a spring over there. Shall we take a short break?”

“I’m fine. You’re not just saying that for my sake, are you?”

“No, I’m the one a little tired. But resting alone would be lonely, so please rest with me.”

“Like five years ago, when you shared tanghulu with me?”

Jeha’s laughter rang bright. He seated Cheongyeon upon a tree stump, then settled himself upon the ground. With gentle hands, he gathered a clean leaf, scooped cool water from the stream, and offered it.

Such a considerate boy… he’ll make someone melt one day, thought Cheongyeon as he drank.

“How much farther do we have left?”

“You’re not tiring, are you? I’d hate to think I’ve dragged you out and overworked you.”

“I told you it’s fine. I’m only asking out of curiosity.”

“Still, if fatigue sets in, you must tell me.”

Jeha’s tone was solemn as he continued,

“Master said the Wolya Grass grows only in shadow, true to its name. We should follow that path until we reach a great rock shaped like a dragon ascending the sky. Beyond it, turn right—follow that path straight, and there’ll be a cave.”

“Was it like that in the story…?”

He frowned slightly, searching his memory once more as they resumed walking.

Soon, they entered the narrow forest path Jeha had described. Ahead, Jeha glanced back to offer a word of caution.

“From here, Master warned, there will be poisonous plants about. Not deadly, but dangerous to health. He told me not to touch anything at random—and you mustn’t either, Innkeeper.”

“Of course. Naturally.”

Five years of surviving in a martial world had hardened him more than enough—not the sort to grab mysterious plants barehanded. Confident, he strode forward.

Yet one critical fact slipped clean from his mind: the world he inhabited was not merely a martial arts realm—

It was a martial arts BL world.