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    Chapter 128 A Stolen Kiss (5)

     

    The next day, Yegyeol departed the manor and headed toward Seonyeong.

    “No wonder your luggage looked light for someone going to Sichuan.”

    “Why would I go to Sichuan?”

    At Samrang’s remark, Yegyeol only shrugged.

    “You smeared honey there yourself.”

    “Did I now?”

    Feigning ignorance before Samrang—who surely knew the rough circumstances—Yegyeol strode into the market. Dal-yang Inn, where Namgung Un was staying, stood right in the bustling main street of Seonyeong.

    At a glance, the place showed signs of considerable expense. With suitable dignity and a spacious garden, it resembled a wealthy family’s estate.

    Even the gatekeepers standing watch at the entrance appeared strict and disciplined.

    Yegyeol walked up confidently and addressed one.

    “I’ve come to meet Young Lord Namgung.”

    “Do you have an appointment?”

    “If you tell him Young Lord Mun of Cheonghae Trading Group is here, he’ll let me in.”

    Bowing, one servant left his companion behind and ran inside.

    “Coming here the moment your travel ban is lifted doesn’t seem like a wise idea.”

    Samrang whispered behind him.

    “You saw yourself, didn’t you, the gifts Black Ghost sent to the Trading Group.”

    “He must’ve sent them to make peace.”

    “You know well enough what my relationship with Black Ghost is. Are you serious?”

    Yegyeol fixed her with a grave look. Using Samrang as something of an unwitting double agent, he was always careful to answer her with sincerity.

    “Up until now, we managed to build a somewhat stable relationship. Complicated, yes—but still. At the very least, we never intruded on each other’s domains. There’s no way those gifts were an apology. What else could they be?”

    Samrang didn’t answer; she only wrinkled her nose.

    They say nothing in the world is as amusing as someone else’s romance, and nothing as tedious as your superior’s.

    “This is his declaration that things won’t stay amusing.”

    “So you mean to balance things out through Namgung Un?”

    “Balance, hardly.”

    Yegyeol bit back a few words, then spoke.

    “I’m just puffing myself up—buying time, however I can.”

    Samrang rolled her eyes.

    “I get that your lordship feels uneasy about secretly consorting with a demonic martial artist. But must you go so far to avoid him?”

    Though she knew everything, her question feigned ignorance, deliberately provocative.

    “…I have every reason to avoid him. Every reason.”

    Yegyeol muttered with bitter irony.

    “Because that man holds my secret.”

    Samrang’s brow furrowed slightly, then she pressed her lips tight and withdrew. Just as Yegyeol expected her to say more, he sensed someone approaching from within the inn, and fell silent too.

    Soon enough, Namgung Un himself appeared.

    “Yegyeol?”

    Even with his own eyes upon him, Namgung Un called his name as though he couldn’t believe it. Truth be told, Yegyeol was just as startled.

    “No, I mean… If you were bathing, I could have waited as long as needed.”

    For the dignified heir of the Namgung family—always neat and impeccable—stood damp from washing. His black hair looked darker still, and because his belt had been tied more loosely than usual, the open collar revealed a well-trained chest.

    Martial artists really… have no sense of modesty about exposure.

    Even in Kunlun, where snow lingered even in midsummer, three out of ten disciples training outdoors would strip half-naked.

    “Forgive me. I was eager not to keep a guest waiting, and so… I’ve shown you an unseemly sight.”

    Unseemly? Not in the least.

    Yegyeol waved his hands.

    “Not unseemly at all. Truly.”

    A faint flush crept across Namgung Un’s cheeks. The warmth on his otherwise cold features made any onlooker smile.

    As expected of the direct heir of one of the Five Great Clans, he clearly possessed a sense of propriety.

    “You should dry off quickly. The air in Cheonghae tends toward the chill.”

    Playfully, Yegyeol flicked one of the damp strands of his long hair. Droplets fell, darkening his robes.

    “See? At this rate, you’ll catch a cold. Let’s go inside.”

    Half-frozen, Namgung Un allowed himself to be nudged stiffly along.

    From behind, Samrang let out what sounded like the faintest sigh, but Yegyeol paid no heed. Paying attention to her reactions too often would only turn him into prey, just as Jin-yeong had been.

    “I heard you were so busy, I hardly prepared to welcome guests at all.”

    It seemed Namgung Un had rented out the entire Dal-yang Inn. He offered Yegyeol a seat, shoved aside the satchel draped on the opposite chair, and sat down himself.

    Though newly arrived in Seonyeong, the disarray in the room made clear how unprepared he was for visitors.

    “No need to be so tense. Isn’t it just a friend dropping by?”

    “Still, I want to make a good impression on you, Yegyeol.”

    Namgung Un had the knack for making even polite words sound utterly earnest. Perhaps it was because he carried such weight as a person.

    “You’ve come with your escort again today, I see.”

    Samrang stood like a statue behind Yegyeol, unaffected by being mentioned.

    “Yes. Though we’re within Seonyeong, concerns from others are considerable.”

    Yegyeol had no reason to be alone with Namgung Un, so he answered plainly.

    “Concerns?”

    “Well, remember last time? An entire ship was hijacked. The Trading Group suffered no small losses from that. Since then, we’ve had to be more cautious with my movements.”

    In other words, he had no choice but to bring her along.

    “Quite so. A wise precaution.”

    “You don’t need any escort, do you, Un?”

    Yegyeol teased, and Namgung Un hesitated briefly before answering with seriousness.

    “When I cross mountain passes alone, I sometimes run into brigands or wild beasts. It’s certainly more dangerous than traveling in company.”

    “But in the end, you made it through alone.”

    The fact that he sat here unharmed spoke for itself.

    When Yegyeol rolled his eyes, Namgung Un covered his face awkwardly, pretending to dry his hair with a cloth.

    “How many bandits have you fought at once? Seventeen?”

    “If I struck down the strongest as an example, the rest always fled. So I’ve never faced more than three at once.”

    Yegyeol had secretly expected some legendary tale of Namgung steel-blooded valor, but reality proved harsher.

    “I see.”

    Only belatedly did he realize—someone as humble as Namgung Un, who reminded him so much of his Senior Brother, would never boast of his own feats.

    “By the way, when you returned from Hangzhou, no troubles?”

    “Returned safely.”

    Of course, having his Senior Brother with him had helped, but in truth, Red Thunder had played the greater role.

    What good is a highway robber if he can’t stop travelers? Hongye’s treasured crimson steed ran up mountain slopes as lightly as over open plains. And thanks to the insect-repelling ward Haryang had set, even pests were no concern.

    “In Hangzhou, I was surprised to see Young Lord Tang. At the cloth shop, the moment he saw Lady Hwangbo Yulhui, he seemed like a completely different person.”

    “That is his way when he is extremely tense.”

    Namgung Un confirmed shortly.

    “Heavens. Truly, half the martial world must know of Young Lord Tang’s infatuation.”

    “Yes. Within the Dragon-Tiger Alliance, it’s an open secret that he likes Lady Hwangbo.”

    As expected—everyone knew.

    “Though Lady Hwangbo herself seems unaware.”

    “Most likely… with her upright nature, she will feign ignorance until he confesses outright.”

    “I see. I hope things work out for them.”

    Yegyeol clicked his tongue as though regretful. At the moment, he looked every bit the curious youth nosing into another’s romance.

    “Ah, wait.”

    As if recalling something, Yegyeol spoke again.

    “Lord Tang is heir to the Tang family of Sichuan, isn’t he? Yet as I recall, the only direct heir of the Hwangbo family is Lady Hwangbo Yulhui. Am I mistaken?”

    Casting his line smoothly, Yegyeol intended to fish out some information about the Five Great Clans.

    “Yes, you’re right. Lady Hwangbo is also the heir of the Hwangbo family.”

    “Then…”

    Yegyeol trailed off as though the thought pained him.

    “Even if the two of them grew closer, there’s a limit, isn’t there?”

    “I believe that’s why Young Lord Tang suffers in silence.”

    “So the current family head has no other children at all?”

    Namgung Un nodded.

    “The current head of Hwangbo distinguished himself during the Uprising of the New Moonⁱ in Wuhan. But he was gravely injured by the Heavenly Demon². Upon returning to Shandong, he immediately declared his young daughter heir. That should tell you…”

    So Hwangbo Yak-rin had been rendered infertile by that incident.

    As expected, in the Central Plains, the Heavenly Demon is the root of all evil.

    Now that Yegyeol knew Hwangbo Yak-rin was not just some stranger, but Haryang’s half-sister, his brow creased.

    “By the way, the Uprising of the New Moon…?”

    “Ah. It was over a decade ago, so civilians may not know. It was an event staged by the Demonic Sect for their invasion of the Central Plains. They spread the rumor that the martial arts and inner teachings of the greatest under heaven, Shinwol the Martial Emperor³, lay buried in his tomb.”

    “Oh.”

    The stench of a familiar scheme.

    “A treasure map, vaguely hinting at the tomb’s location, circulated through the martial world. Everyone believed that whoever gained Shinwol’s legacy would become the greatest of the age. All manner of sects and unaffiliated wanderers flocked to Wuhan.”

    Martial artists.

    Truly like enraged boars struck by lightning.

    At any rumor of martial manuals or elixirs, they charged headlong, only to suffer heavy losses. Yet the mere one-in-ten-thousand chance that the rumor might be true was enough for them to gamble their lives.

    “And in the end, it was a trap?”

    “Yes.”

    Namgung Un smiled bitterly at Yegyeol’s question.

    “I was young then, but I heard it became a great massacre. Blinded by greed, orthodox and unorthodox alike turned blades on one another, even betraying allies without hesitation. And when they finally entered the tomb, its mechanisms and traps activated, poisoning the survivors.”

    Classic Demonic Sect conduct.

    Pit orthodox and unorthodox against each other, drain their strength, then strike from behind.

    “Fortunately, Senior Huangbo Yak-rin—the current head of the Hwangbo family, known as the Sword Demon of Mount Tai—perceived the trap. Thanks to him, the core forces of the orthodox sects avoided annihilation. After several days in hiding, he drove back the Demonic Sect fiends who came to finish the survivors.”

    “That’s truly fortunate.”

    Yegyeol let out a breath of relief. He wasn’t particularly attached to Kunlun, but to hear the Demonic Sect—who had once tried to kill his Senior Brother—had suffered bitterly was sweet indeed.

    Meanwhile, Samrang, listening silently all along, closed her eyes slowly.

    Those orthodox bastards…

    ⁱ Uprising of the New Moon (신월의 난): A major conflict sparked by the Demonic Sect, luring martial artists into a tomb under the pretense that it held the martial legacy of the greatest master, Shinwol.

    ² Heavenly Demon (천마): Title of the leader of the Demonic Sect (Magyo). Each generation’s Heavenly Demon symbolizes the sect’s terrifying power and is often central to invasions of the Central Plains.

    ³ Shinwol the Martial Emperor (신월무제): A legendary martial artist from 300 years prior, famed as “the greatest under heaven.” His tomb and supposed martial legacy were the bait used by the Demonic Sect.

     

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