TSBIRBV Ch 125

Chapter 125 A Stolen Kiss (2)

 

When Yegyeol shook his head and started walking, he couldn’t shake his thoughts from the smoke-pipe said to be hidden inside that long case.

He couldn’t sleep well…?

He had never once noticed such a thing. Martial artists might have bodies capable of enduring sleepless nights for several days, but that did not mean they never grew weary.

Looking back, even when Yegyeol was asleep, Haryang was usually awake.

“Today’s the day we go down to the Trading Group headquarters, right?”

At his question, Samrang answered briskly,

“It’s already that time again.”

The Cheonghae Trading Group, centered in Cheonghae, had its main building in Seonyeong City.

Since Senior Brother’s restriction only applied within Cheonghae itself, Yegyeol would occasionally travel to Seonyeong for business before returning to the manor.

“Let’s be quick about it.”

Casting a sidelong glance at the building where his Senior Brother stayed, Yegyeol urged Samrang forward.

With a somewhat meaningful look, Samrang took the lead.

“I’ll have preparations made at once.”

If Sichuan had Chengdu, Cheonghae had Seonyeong.

As the hub where Cheonghae’s people and goods gathered, Seonyeong City bustled with life and was full of things to see. If Chengdu’s specialty was its flourishing silk market, Seonyeong was famous for its horse market. And just as minority tribes from Yunnan often appeared in Chengdu, nomads were common in Seonyeong.

Yet despite all the lively sights, Yegyeol merely cast a few passing glances out the window until they arrived at the headquarters. His indifferent expression returned quickly to face forward.

Samrang, watching him closely, thought:

When he’s like this, it’s hard to believe that the soft, pliant side he shows to the lord is even real.

At such times, Yegyeol seemed like a true Daoist, detached from the mundane world. Samrang was reminded anew that he and Je Haryang had been disciples of the same sect.

She was careful not to make her observation too obvious.

Her attention to Yegyeol’s every move wasn’t out of personal curiosity but because of her master’s orders. After returning from Hangzhou with his beloved disciple, Haryang had instructed her to watch Yegyeol closely and submit reports. He seemed to have sensed something was troubling the youth.

If Yegyeol ever found out, he might feel betrayed. But Samrang didn’t care. Her only duty was to obey the master’s command. Personal feelings had no place in it.

“We’ve arrived.”

Opening the door first, Samrang checked the surroundings with agile movements before stepping down with Yegyeol into the Trading Group’s building.

From afar, a pair of eyes observed them.

A beggar with soot-stained hands rubbed his chin thoughtfully before blending into the crowd, his sharp gaze carefully hidden.

Seated in the office reserved for the master of Cheonghae Trading Group, Yegyeol briskly cut down the pile of pending work.

Jin-yeong’s Spartan training is paying off.

As he moved the brush across the paper, he marveled silently.

At first, he had struggled with ledgers. Though he had learned characters in his past life, he had been illiterate far longer. Most of what he knew he had picked up through self-study, and his skills had many gaps.

It was through Jeokno-gae that he had first learned to read the characters for Kunlun. On the journey from Hangzhou to Cheonghae, he had pestered him to teach him Chinese in stolen moments.

But with that little study, fluent reading and writing were impossible. His early days at Kunlun had been full of hardship.

His master, Baekyang Jin-in, had never even imagined his disciple might not know his letters. Disappointed in Yegyeol’s modest background, he simply tossed him manuals with martial arts recorded inside and told him to learn them on his own.

At the time, Yegyeol couldn’t bring himself to admit he had only just barely mastered the Thousand-Character Classic. He was too cowed in those first days at Kunlun.

Everything about Kunlun had seemed grand and overwhelming. His master, who could walk without leaving footprints in the snow, looked like an immortal. The white peaks, where clouds curled endlessly, seemed like a place out of legend.

And when I was reborn, it truly became a mountain that existed only in legend.

Knowing so little of sects, Yegyeol had believed he must conceal his inadequacies if he didn’t want to be cast out of Kunlun.

So he had trained sword forms under the blistering sun until his skin burned red, and by night he secretly studied texts over and over again. Desperate to become a proper disciple of Kunlun as quickly as possible.

At dawn, he would wash in freezing water that cut into his skin, even in midsummer. His hands trembled with cold, but he still doused himself. He feared the slightest odor would expose his humble origins and invite scorn.

No one knew better than Yegyeol himself that he didn’t belong on that white mountain.

Especially as he gazed, always, at that man who seemed as if sculpted from Kunlun’s own clouds—lofty and perfect.

“Lord Mun.”

A servant approached and bowed respectfully as Yegyeol set down his brush.

Though it had been a month since this particular servant had replaced the one who usually attended him at the headquarters, Yegyeol still hadn’t remembered his name.

Partly it was because his focus was always on Je Haryang, but it was not entirely his fault.

Haryang’s people all seemed nearly identical. Not in appearance, but in their restrained movements, their identical reactions to commands, and their emotionless faces. It was as if they were one person.

“A guest has come to see you.”

The servant’s voice slid into the room like a shadow. Yegyeol frowned slightly.

“A guest?”

He had no real ties in the martial world. Who would seek him out?

“It is Lord Namgung Un of the Namgung Clan.”

“Ah.”

Uninvited, but hardly someone he could turn away.

“Tell him I will meet him in a side chamber. Ask him to wait three—no, four quarters of an hour.”

Pushing the bamboo slips he’d been reviewing aside, Yegyeol rose. Samrang, who had been standing like a statue, followed at his side.

Though he had Bambaemi, Yegyeol was never without at least one human guard.

“Understood.”

After quickly confirming the ledger, Yegyeol left his seat.

As he made his way to the side chamber, he tilted his head. He and Namgung Un had gotten along well enough, but he couldn’t imagine why the man would travel to Cheonghae just to see him.

I’ll find out when we meet.

Opening the door lightly, he entered and spotted Namgung Un gazing out the window.

Clad in blue martial robes, the man carried an aura as cold as a sword. Yet for a direct descendant of the great Namgung Clan, and the heir apparent to its leadership, his attire was plain.

But this simplicity did nothing to diminish him.

Rather, like a pine tree clinging to a cliff, his unique upright spirit shone all the clearer.

“It’s been a while.”

Yegyeol greeted him with a wide smile. Handsome enough to dazzle the eyes and upright in character, a Guide like Namgung Un was always welcome.

“Namgung—no, Un.”

As though remembering too late that they had agreed to call each other by name, Yegyeol covered his mouth sheepishly. A warmth flickered in Namgung Un’s gaze.

“It has indeed been a long time, Yegyeol. Have you been well?”

“Of course.”

Yegyeol nodded.

“I was worried, since I hadn’t heard from you in a while.”

Yegyeol blinked in surprise. He had never thought their relationship was one where letters should be exchanged.

This wasn’t the modern age with instant messaging. Sending word was never easy. A letter required finding a courier or using trained carrier pigeons or hawks, and both cost dearly.

“Ah, I went to Hangzhou on Trading Group business.”

Unable to say to his face we’re not that close, Yegyeol offered the reason for his absence.

Unexpectedly, Namgung Un nodded as if already aware.

“I heard. Young Lord Tang bragged that he met you in Hangzhou.”

So Tang Segi had returned to Sichuan while Yegyeol was in Cheonghae. Likely, he had cornered Namgung Un and spent half the day babbling about Hwangbo Yulhui.

With such a good nature, did he endure it without complaint? His ears must have been bleeding.

“I was disappointed,” Namgung Un added meaningfully.

Such pauses in speech should be illegal.

“Disappointed about what?”

“Since Hangzhou is close to Anhui… I thought it might have been nice if I’d gone with you.”

Yegyeol laughed awkwardly.

“It was business, wasn’t it?”

Business? It had been nothing less than a honeymoon with his Senior Brother.

Not a wedding car, but we rode Red Thunder, laid bare our pasts, enjoyed our hobbies together… and even shared a bed.

With enough embellishment, he could almost claim they’d signed a marriage certificate and filed it with the court.

And who could refute it? Not a single esper alive.

If I agree, then it’s unanimous.

Truly the shamelessness of an esper writing the entire Central Plains as his own story.

“Next time, take me as a guard at least. I can wield a sword, after all.”

Namgung Un tapped the hilt at his hip and smiled broadly. With his neat features, the expression looked especially refreshing.

“I wouldn’t trouble you with mere guard duty.”

Yegyeol waved a hand, smiling.

If he ever used the heir of the Namgung Clan, a likely future leader of the Dragon-Tiger Gathering, as his guard, he’d earn more than a few glares. And in the martial world, a disliked rival could vanish without a trace.

Namgung Un’s brows dipped slightly, as though realizing Yegyeol was genuinely uncomfortable.

“Still, I’m glad you came, Un. That I can see your face like this.”

“Ah, on that subject…”

Namgung Un fixed Yegyeol with a steady gaze.

“Why have you not been coming to Sichuan lately?”