TSBIRBV Ch 44

Chapter 44 An Ill-fated Relationship (1)

A neatly drawn smile lingered at the corners of Namgung Un’s mouth.

“So, I’ve been exposed.”

He seemed to know well enough that he had moved too openly to deny it.

“For certain personal reasons, I concealed my identity and joined this caravan. Though it was not my intent, I did end up lying, so I owe you an apology.”

His clean-cut admission made Yegyeol shake his head.

“The thanks should be mine. Was it not thanks to your resolute stand against the Chief of the Yangtze Waterway Alliance that we’ve preserved our lives?”

Namgung Un gave a wry smile, watching the young man whose clear face spoke only pleasant lines.

“You make a reckless gamble look gallant. I’m embarrassed.”

No matter how superb his skills, for a late-stage cultivator to face the ruler of the Yangtze was arrogance, plain and simple.

Had the Jiaolong King been even a shade crueler, her foul mood sparked by Un might well have doomed everyone on deck. Such was Jianghu — a place where everything was steeped in danger.

I miss Senior Brother.

Even with peril at hand, Yegyeol sniffled as he thought of Je Haryang. He still had to check the jujube trees Samrang had mentioned, and couldn’t tell when he’d manage to see Black Ghost in Sichuan or meet the real Je Haryang again in Qinghai.

“Worry not. The Azure Sky Flying Corps will arrive soon.”

Though battered black and blue, Namgung Un earnestly tried to reassure him. Apparently mistaking Yegyeol’s loneliness over missing Haryang for fear.

“…If you mean the Azure Sky Flying Corps…”

So those were the very people who brought Namgung Un to Kunlun to seize Baembaem.

“They are Namgung’s elite. I haven’t heard from them, which means they’ll soon realize something is amiss and come to rescue us.”

Even as the most valuable hostage on this ship, his composure did not waver.

“Are you not afraid of the Jiaolong King, Namgung gongja?”

“I am not.”

“…Then I’ll put my trust in you.”

At this point, if it meant getting off this ship alive, Yegyeol could have believed even a worm. Still, watching Un’s duel earlier, he had to admit the man’s abilities were extraordinary.

“To hold out like that even as a prisoner?”

Un teased softly, smiling to try and soothe the fear he assumed Yegyeol must be feeling.

“…But if not for you, those sailors would have died.”

Had Un chosen only to escape quietly, he could perhaps have saved himself. That was the truth Yegyeol observed.

Though perhaps the Jiaolong King had not pressed Un solely because her real target was Tang, for a cultivator not yet even twenty to confront the overlord of the Yangtze was incredible.

River pirates themselves were nothing — strong swimmers and extortionists at best. But the leader of their sect, the river-lord of a region, was among the strongest masters alive; controlling the whole Yangtze was no mean feat.

If the world of Jianghu knew that a single late-stage cultivator had lasted before the Jiaolong King without dying, they’d be shocked. Even several sect elders banding together might not be enough to face her.

“You don’t seem to think it was folly.”

“Call it folly if you will — how many late-stage cultivators your age could even dare such a stand?”

Yegyeol added just a touch of flattery.

Namgung Un was not destined to die here. No matter the Waterway Alliance, to slay a Namgung heir would mean blood-vengeance. Such a thing could not be buried.

And Un was far too brilliant. Losing an ordinary brick from a wall causes no war, but pry away a building’s main pillar — and a war erupts at once.

“I merely survived,” Un said humbly.

So he’s one of Namgung’s “engineered geniuses,” born of medicine and forged bone-washing…

The Great Nine Sects and the Five Noble Houses poured everything into crafting such talents. Especially the Five Noble Houses, who threw money into it like an academic-obsessed family in Korea.

When a child was born with a body suited to martial pursuit, a process called bone-washing would be performed — artificial inner energy instilled into them to cleanse and condition their body. Before they even learned to walk, they were given a sword to hold.

Before they learned their native tongue, they were made to live like martial heirs.

Once older, exorbinant pills, rare elixirs, entire Dan refined for them. By the time they “debuted” in Jianghu, their dantian would be bursting with inner strength.

Only geniuses who survived this brutal “education system” rose into the ranks of late-stage prodigies.

An unbeatable entrance exam strategy.

By contrast, Je Haryang didn’t have any of that. His body was strong, but from common stock — he could never dream of bone-washing, and Kunlun was too austere to splurge on rare medicines.

Yet even so, he had gone on to win tournaments, command the Yongbong Gathering, and make his name thunder across the whole martial world.

The Nine Sects and the Five Houses had fumed with envy.

Like a model student who scored perfect marks in the college exam, purely from school material and regular sleep.

Prodigies from across sects gathered at Kunlun just to circle Je Haryang. His name drew visitors by droves. At the time, Yegyeol never tired of hearing stories of his Senior Brother.

Those days, even hunger felt like fullness.

“…Namgung gongja,” Yegyeol said hesitantly, “should I try to free your hands?”

“I haven’t been sealed of my inner strength. I could break this binding easily. The Jiaolong King knows it too. She only trusts her hostages. It’s better we stay as we are until the Azure Sky Corps arrives.”

He meant to keep casualties to a minimum.

His calm voice and mild expression made him seem trustworthy. But Yegyeol did not believe him.

His inner energy was depleted, bruises peeked under his collar. He looked worn through. Yet still, he lied — not for pride, but to console his fellow prisoner.

Yegyeol sighed. A porcelain prince. Even his character gleams.

So much like Senior Brother.

Save for being a warm-featured beauty instead of a cool one, they could have been brothers.

He even remembered the espers at the Center — the ones who swore guides were angels sent down from heaven. Back then he’d thought them absurd. Yet both guides he had met in Jianghu had proven gentle and kind.

Maybe those fools were onto something after all.

Lost in thought, he was startled when Namgung Un spoke, as if misreading his gaze.

“Don’t worry. I’m not magnanimous. I simply cannot stand to see pain in others.”

Did he look so fragile — like cotton candy dissolving in water?

Un’s temperament was almost too careful. Perhaps he had noticed Samrang’s overprotectiveness.

“You truly are a hero, Namgung gongja.”

Because he was a guide, Yegyeol answered with a mild and respectful tone. It was, admittedly, more the result of indoctrination at the Esper Center than sincerity.

The senior espers had hammered into every trainee: Bring your humanity back.

One guide slighted could mean endless regret. Their slogans lingered:

“Even the lowest-grade guide deserves your respect.”

“A careless word is a wall your guide will never climb.”

“At all times, guard your manners.”

They joked with contests for guide-honor slogans, bickering like fools — but the lesson sunk in deep.

Yegyeol thought of them now, sneering. Espers are beasts. All of us. That’s the truth.

“Come to think, I never did ask your name,” Namgung Un said.

Yegyeol didn’t hesitate.

“Yegyeol. My name is Mun Yegyeol.”

Footnotes:

 

• Azure Sky Flying Corps (창궁비연대) — Namgung clan’s elite strike unit, once linked to Kunlun incident. 
• Bone-washing (벌모세수) — process of cleansing a child’s body with inner strength to build martial suitability. 
• Yongbong Gathering (용봉지회) — tournament gathering of the prodigies of Jianghu. 
• Late-stage cultivator (후기지수) — term for advanced young martial artists destined to succeed sect leadership.