OGHOU C39

Chapter 39

Another four years passed.

Early in the morning, Cheongyeon gazed out the window and sighed. The day to leave the inn was truly approaching.

A pivotal event was soon to happen in the inn—a moment where, amidst the subtle tension between Jeha, now twenty, and his teacher, their feelings would be revealed and they’d become lovers right here. Only a few days remained until that destined day.

Once it was over, Cheongyeon had every intention of tidying up the inn and leaving Sichuan for good; he’d even set the date. He could have left earlier, but worry gnawed at him—if a new inn were built on this spot or the whole place changed hands, might the story diverge and keep the two leads apart?

So he lingered.

Cheongyeon smiled, watching the staff hanging laundry in the rear courtyard. He’d come to care for the inn’s cast of characters more than he ever expected, and it was hard to accept that he’d soon say farewell. Perhaps that reluctance kept him from leaving until now.

But it was finally time. If he stayed another year, once Muho took the cult’s throne, there might not be any escape route left for him.

He’d worried where to go after selling the inn, but thanks to Dokyeong’s help he would be able to stay as a guest in the Namgung clan for the time being. He had enough money saved up—now he just needed to decide how to spend the rest of his life.

The idea of Jeha grieving over the separation weighed on him, but with his own life on the line, Cheongyeon had no choice. If he survived, there would be a chance to meet again someday.

If survival is possible.

He could only pray the great righteous-versus-demonic war wouldn’t happen; he hoped Muho would make it through alive. But that was beyond his control.

With a heavy heart, Cheongyeon descended the stairs. As always, Haeryeong greeted him.

“You’re up?”

Thanks to Cheongyeon’s care with wages, Haeryeong and Haewoo had saved enough to arrange their own place. The children who used to sleep in the staff quarters had grown up and gone independent. He felt oddly proud.

“Haeryeong, I need to talk to you…”

“You mean about what you mentioned before? Closing the inn?”

“How did you know?”

“Every time you bring it up, you look ready to cry. You’re leaving soon, aren’t you?”

He hadn’t realized he was so transparent. Cheongyeon managed a bitter smile.

“Don’t worry. There are plenty of places for me and brother to go. Just give us a generous severance pay and we’ll be fine.”

“Severance pay…”

Was that a thing in this era? He’d meant to set something aside regardless.

Cheongyeon glared playfully at Haeryeong’s wry smile.

“Anyway, I’ll tell the others myself today.”

“Okay. Have you decided where to go yet?”

“…No.”

“Still undecided? You said you were thinking about it last time too.”

“Yeah, it’s not easy.”

Having lived as an innkeeper for nine years since falling into this world, making the next decision wasn’t easy. The money he’d saved only made the choice tougher. He wondered if he ought to try another business—he did seem to have a knack for it.

“By the way, someone came from the courier guild last night, while you were in your room.”

“What did they want this time?”

“They asked for half the food price as delivery fee.”

“Half? Are they insane? Tell them I won’t go above twenty percent.”

“I already did.”

The food delivery business Cheongyeon started four years ago was more popular than ever—even the local courier guild wanted in, offering to handle deliveries if he’d pay their commission.

But demanding half was ridiculous. Even as a departing owner, he would never accept that.

Cheongyeon shook his head.

“Ah, a customer’s here.”

“I’ll go take care of it.”

With a gesture to Haeryeong and the errand boy, Cheongyeon headed to the table where three middle-aged men had arrived. As usual, they ordered bamboo-leaf wine and noodle soup.

Some things never change.

Then, just as he was turning to the kitchen with a smile, he heard—

“Have you heard the news?”

“What news?”

“A ruckus at the Demonic Cult, they say.”

Cheongyeon stopped dead in his tracks.

“What?”

“A young man’s taken over as cult leader, so I heard.”

“Is it time already for that?”

“The previous leader was done in by his own, apparently! I heard Xinjiang itself shook and the sky turned red for days. Even the Martial Alliance is up in arms over this—how come you’re the last to know, innkeeper?”

His body went cold, and Cheongyeon collapsed onto the spot, trembling uncontrollably.

“Innkeeper? What’s wrong?”

“Why… why already…”

The errand boy waved his hand in front of Cheongyeon’s eyes, trying to bring back his focus.

“What do you mean, why already? What are you talking about?”

“Why already… why… how…”

It had only been nine years. There should still be a year left. Did he miscalculate the timing?

“No…”

No, his calculations were meticulous. His fate depended on it. Something that was supposed to happen a year later had gotten moved ahead. Which meant—

“I’m done for.”

“Sorry? What do you mean?”

Cheongyeon leapt to his feet. He couldn’t afford to linger. If Muho really had become the Heavenly Demon, he had to flee before anyone came looking.

Will I have time to pack?

Rushing to his room, Cheongyeon threw everything he could grab into a bundle.

How much money do I take?

He didn’t have the luxury to take all of it. He threw just enough silver for survival into his pouch, figuring he could return for the rest if he survived.

He ran out without even explaining to the staff. His immediate plan was to hire a carriage and escape Chengdu, find shelter for the night somewhere—then keep running, further each day, hiding his name and trail from the cult’s pursuit.

Where do I hire a carriage? He’d have to head into the bustling district first.

Cheongyeon bolted along the road, bundle in hand.

He never imagined things would turn out this way. Sometimes the progression had strayed, but never had such a crucial storyline event—the rise of the final boss—come an entire year early.

Why? Was it because of him, the transmigrator? But he hadn’t had any connection to Muho for years now.

“This is insane.”

Truly, he was losing his mind. Running in a daze, Cheongyeon nearly tripped over a stone. He just managed to regain balance, only to crash into someone standing in his path.

“Oh, sorry—eh?!”

Why now, why black robes? Not everyone in black was from the cult, but why now, at exactly this moment?

Cheongyeon’s nerves shot up and he spun to retrace his steps. Carriages could wait—first, he needed somewhere to hide. Before he realized, he was back near the inn, and there, right out front—

He stopped, frozen.

A whole line of black-robed figures stood facing him.

That’s it. He was doomed.

He backed away, eyes darting for escape, then flung himself down a side alley.

Time to contemplate the very worst-case scenario: being captured by the Heavenly Demon Cult, thrown into an icy cell underground.

If he met Muho there… should he try to explain? Insist he’d never meant any harm? Surely all the time they’d shared might inspire trust.

No. The Muho of now was not the Muho of the past. In the original, he had no mercy. Lives meant nothing—anyone who didn’t profit him was slain outright.

Slain, quite literally, whether by beheading or worse. There was no way he’d hear out pleas or explanations. Any old affection had been overrun by new, festering resentment.

Should Cheongyeon just beg? Fall to his knees, clutch at his robes, beg for life?

…Would that even work?

Maybe Muho wouldn’t even bother to see him. Perhaps Cheongyeon’s betrayal had become meaningless—a revenge so cold that he didn’t even rate the chance to explain.

What do I do…?

After another long sprint, a strange feeling made Cheongyeon glance over his shoulder. Those black-robes had certainly seen him and should have started the chase—so why wasn’t anyone following?

He paused, surveyed the empty street. Not a soul in sight—almost as if someone had cleared the way on purpose.

Could I have been mistaken? Maybe they weren’t from the cult at all.

Confused and hesitant, Cheongyeon knew he couldn’t return to the inn. Better to stay away for now. He turned again—

And all at once, his head crashed into something solid.

There’d been no one before, yet now a broad chest blocked his path—a man garbed in black.

“Uhh…”

His heart sank to his feet. For a moment, Cheongyeon forgot even how to breathe as he slowly looked up.

“……”

So shocked, not even a scream escaped him. He simply stared, eyes wide as moons, at the man before him.

He wore a black hat, was so tall Cheongyeon had to crane his neck to meet his eyes. His hair and eyes were pitch dark, and the scar at his brow seemed deeper than ever.

Muho had found him—come right to him.

Wordlessly, Muho’s eyes flicked down to the bundle in Cheongyeon’s hands. In a flash, he seized it. Frozen, powerless, Cheongyeon let him take it.

Muho opened his palm, and the bundle burst into flames. In seconds, all his possessions had turned to ash.

As the last cinders fell away, Muho’s big hand closed over Cheongyeon’s throat and lifted him effortlessly into the air. Cheongyeon choked, kicking helplessly, just like the very first night they’d met.

“Where do you think you’re running?”

That was the last voice he heard before the world faded to black.