TSBIRBV Ch 35

Chapter 35 Black Ghost (7)

Yegyeol hurriedly sat up, pulled off his outer robe, and spread it beside the paper parasol. One of Haryang’s brows rose. Then Yegyeol tugged him down by the hand, urging him to sit on the garment.

“Sit here. The ground is still cold.”

He grinned. Haryang pulled Yegyeol’s hand instead, making him stumble close enough their faces nearly touched. Yegyeol was the one who grabbed him first, yet somehow it felt like he was the one being caught.

“Weren’t you lying down just now?”

His other hand reached toward Yegyeol’s face. Unable even to flinch away, Yegyeol froze as Haryang plucked a leaf from his messy hair. His cheeks flushed at the thought of having looked so unkempt.

“I had a reason for it.”

At that, Haryang tilted his head gently.

“A reason?”

Ah, whatever.

Yegyeol tugged Haryang’s knee closer and laid his head across it. Meeting his Senior Brother’s curious gaze, he pulled his eyes closed.

“Comfortable?”

“Very.”

Honestly, his thigh was as hard as stone, not a comfortable pillow at all. But to Yegyeol, it was better than the softest hotel bedding.

“I really like it.”

Like a cat rubbing against catnip, he burrowed his cheek further. Haryang’s hand slowly descended to smooth over his hair. Yegyeol melted under the touch.

“I missed you so much while I was in Sichuan.”

“Then why didn’t you hurry home?”

“I promised to build you a ship.”

Yegyeol’s drowsy voice whispered like sleep-talk, lips curved in a smile.

“I’ll definitely keep that promise. Senior Brother won’t have to dip a finger in water. I’ll pamper you forever, so just wait.”

“…Is that so? Then I need only rely on my disciple for my twilight years.”

It should have sounded like childish bluster, but his tone was serious.

“You really haven’t changed at all.”

“Changed?”

“When a new disciple like me first entered, I made lofty boasts of spreading Kunlun’s name across the martial world. You always listened to the end and seriously encouraged me.”

Yegyeol let out a hushed laugh at the memory.

“I even wondered sometimes: how outrageous a dream must I declare to finally put Senior Brother in a bind?”

It was quietly known that he had been brought to Kunlun from the Beggar’s Sect. That he was once a beggar child. So even when he wore clean clothes, even when he bathed, there were still jeers about bad smells. Luckily, most simply avoided him, unsure how to treat him.

His teacher, Baekyang Jin-in, had said time would solve it all. At the time, it sounded like well-meaning senior advice.

Lonely in crowds, Yegyeol had always followed Senior Brother’s back with his eyes. His very reason for joining Kunlun had been Haryang himself.

Smiling to swallow down a truth he had never once spoken aloud, Haryang asked:

“Why did you never come closer and ask me directly?”

“…Because it was like a game I could play on my own. If I talked to you, the game would end too soon.”

Haryang had helped him sometimes when he seemed excluded from the group, but he had been far too busy. Many other disciples craved his attention. Naturally, Yegyeol was always pushed farthest away.

“That’s a pity.”

“What?”

“I thought you simply found me intimidating.”

His gaze tracing Yegyeol’s face was piercing.

“I should have spoken up to you first.”

The words he never expected widened Yegyeol’s eyes.

“Then I would have known you liked clinging to people, and thought up such amusing things.”

Haryang murmured again, “Such a pity.”

“I never dreamed Senior Brother spared a thought for me.”

Everywhere, he had been surrounded by people. If not for having sacrificed his life for him, Yegyeol thought he would never even remember someone like him existed.

But Senior Brother had seen him.

His chest fluttered like petals swirling around inside it. He tried to keep his face from breaking into a foolish grin, but he wasn’t sure how well he managed.

“The day we reunited, even holding you with both hands, I couldn’t believe it. I kept wondering, who could have done such things to you? Yet no matter how I tried, I had no answers—because I knew nothing of those years. It tormented me.”

His expression was bleak. Though not delicate beauty, on his face lingered a sadness that turned Yegyeol’s gaze powerless to look away.

“…That…”

“Could you remember who it was? Who did you such wrongs?”

He had never been asked this before. Senior Brother had known he dodged the question with feigned forgetfulness, and respected it, never pressing.

Even if he had investigated, after the Kunlun massacre his trail was utterly gone.

I myself took Yegyeol’s body and cremated it.

He recalled the words of Baekyang Jin-in and hunched over.

“Yegyeol?”

If Senior Brother ever learned that truth, would he discard him now? The thought made him tremble. It was irrational fear, but his esper’s instincts recoiled from even the possibility of abandonment.

“I… I…”

His lips worked, but no sound came. Who would believe it—that he had died and been born again? Nobody. Not even himself, sometimes. He too wondered if it was delusion, if this was just the madness of an esper without a guide.

“Yegyeol!”

His Senior Brother’s hands gripped his shoulders tight. Pulled upright from his lap, Yegyeol collapsed into Haryang’s chest.

“I—I’m fine—”

“You’re fine. It’s all right. My mistake. I won’t ask again.”

His voice was urgent, taut with strain.

“Will you lift your head? Please?”

Yegyeol shook his head where it was buried. His face must look terrible—how could he reveal it?

“Forgive me, just once.”

“Don’t say that.”

Peeking his eyes open, Yegyeol reached up in alarm at the sight of his Senior Brother’s pale face.

“You did nothing wrong.”

As his words came clear and firm, Haryang’s gaze darkened. His lashes trembled like wet butterfly wings.

“If anyone placed a prohibition on you—”

Even before Yegyeol could deny it, Haryang seized his shoulders hard, cutting him off. His meaning was clear: Don’t answer.

Each whitened finger joint spoke of anguish indescribable.

In the martial world, prohibitions—geumje—were of two types: sorcery and poisonous gu. Either bent the mind, forcing obedience with threats of pain and death should the victim speak forbidden words or disobey. Thus they became perfect puppets.

“I’ll find it. I’ll destroy it.”

…This must have come from what Yegyeol confessed at the Black Spot, his trauma of being bound and dragged. Since the reunion when his disciple appeared torn and broken, he had been putting together the puzzle, drowning in worry.

Seeing it that way, Yegyeol felt warmth and bittersweet love.

“I’ve never been bound by geumje.”

He spoke firmly.

He did not want his Senior Brother wasting himself chasing shadows. He wanted him fully, emotions directed at him alone.

“Good. That’s enough.”

Haryang dragged him back into his embrace, clutching him not just for his disciple’s sake, but with desperation of his own.

Tight enough to nearly suffocate, but Yegyeol found comfort in the iron hold and embraced him back.

Beneath the shallow shade of the parasol, the two disciples wrapped together like one as the sun slid over them.

“…Senior Brother.”

Hesitant, Yegyeol placed a hand on his chest and leaned up. His quiet call drew Haryang’s eyes open.

“Has anyone ever done such things to you?”

He had suddenly brought up prohibitions, silenced him from answering. He spoke of it too knowingly—like one who knew.

Though tales spread of sorcery and gu, they were treated as myths. In orthodox sects, forbidden texts were burnt out like weeds—eradicated till nothing remained.

Haryang’s voice was gentle.

“Have you seen anyone force their will upon me?”

“No.”

Yegyeol shook his head. If anyone held sway over him, he would never have entrusted the Qinghai Company to him. What kind of slave handed away his master’s treasures?

“Once cast, a geumje of sorcery or gu cannot be broken short of death itself.”

He looked calm, betraying no pain. Yet Yegyeol felt as if he placed a hand on a bleeding wound.

His hand rose to Haryang’s cheek on instinct. Haryang covered it with his own. Whispering,

“Never.”

Footnotes:

• Geumje (금제) — prohibitions, magical or poisonous compulsions that control a victim’s speech and actions. 
• Gu (고독) — poison insects used in sorcery, here referring to the category of “poison prohibitions.”