TSBIRBV Ch 70

Chapter 70 The Bride Lies Sleepless (8)

 

Namgung Un quietly retrieved the token.

“You are teasing your juniors, senior of Jianghu,” he remarked.

As his flesh-like hand touched another, the cold metal’s sensation transformed Namgung Un’s suspicion into certainty.

The bride he had met that day was undoubtedly Yeon Sosho herself, the Jiaolong King.

The Jiaolong King had deceived Namgung Un with remarkable ease. The long flowing sleeves concealed the prosthetic arm, and the lavishly decorated bridal sedan obstructed Namgung Un’s sight.

Un, not free from prejudice, reflected upon himself.

He wondered why she appeared as a bride. What was her true purpose in spying on them?

“Was it to verify if the ransom genuinely arrives, or to confirm if they intend to ambush fully armed?”

The code of Jianghu followed strange arithmetic. Sacrificing a mere guild master to kill the River Alliance’s chief was considered chivalry.

Hence, the Jiaolong King was expected to scrutinize her surroundings until the deal was secured.

Namgung Un had another hypothesis.

“Perhaps she came to deceive Tang Seoak and watch his despair.”

Un had no knowledge of the extent of her malice, so this was mere conjecture.

If the Jiaolong King’s appearance stemmed from emotion, Un understood why she insisted on ambushing the wedding procession.

The Jiaolong King must have scattered clues to ensnare Tang Seoak.

With only the evidence at hand, Namgung Un looked down at the dazed and defeated Tang Seoak since the Jiaolong King’s appearance.

“So-so…?”

The name was familiar, yet it sounded intimate when addressing the fearsome lord of the Yangtze.

There was no intent to appeal to past affection. It was simply a habit, a familiar way of addressing.

“Yes. I have come. As promised long ago. There is something I must reclaim from you.”

Watching the exchange between Namgung Un and the Jiaolong King, Tang, now certain of his opponent’s identity, tried to escape but tripped and fell pitifully.

Lying face down, he scrambled to his feet and clung to Namgung Un’s feet, begging.

“Namgung, Master Namgung! Spare my life. If you do, I will reveal the location of the Tang family’s hidden treasure! Or the recipe for the venom that greatly enhances inner strength when ingested!”

If he was dragged away now, he would die.

Having guarded Yeon Sosho for a long time, Tang knew all too well how cruel the Jiaolong King could be. He feared the dark waves of the Yangtze more than the blazing flame.

But Namgung Un stood silently, as if deaf to Tang’s pleas.

When Yeon Sosho was held hostage, Tang showed little concern—he had known the guild master longer than Namgung. Still, when his own life hung in the balance, he changed his expression and clung desperately.

Wasn’t it Tang’s scheming that caused Yeon Sosho’s capture? Until the end, he tried to hide his guilt, blaming everything on Yeon Sosho.

“Why…”

Each time he encountered such moments in Jianghu, Namgung Un felt disillusioned.

Few were truly good; too many only cared for themselves.

“Will you surrender quietly?”

The Jiaolong King’s threatening question moved Namgung Un to respond after ignoring Tang’s wails.

“Impossible.”

Namgung drew his sword across his face, instantly leaving a fine garnish of wounds, as if he’d been scraped by a blade.

Though the red flesh looked grotesque, the scars lent a solemn grace to the young martial artist’s face.

“The criminal escaped, there was no choice.”

“The young lord of the Namgung clan is quite flexible in temperament. This matter will be dealt with eventually.”

“You returned the hostage unharmed, so I showed goodwill.”

Thus, no debts existed between them.

The Jiaolong King laughed. He believed Yegyeol would have walked free even without Namgung Un—but there was no reason to tell young Namgung that.

Yeon Sosho had been a villain long ago.

“Then I must resume the unresolved matters.”

Yeon Sosho, veiled again beneath the red wedding veil, vanished through the reedbed with the former lover who had fled long ago.

Namgung Un, guarding the rear without letting down his vigilance, turned to the Azure Corps and ordered,

“Move at full speed to Hebei.”

“Understood!”

Thus, Tang Seoak’s ambitions sank forever beneath the Yangtze’s dark waters.

— — —

“Gyeol!”

At that call, Yegyeol’s eyes snapped open wide.

Haryang waited outside the manor’s gate.

Running swiftly, Senior Brother scooped Yegyeol into his arms before he could dismount Red Thunder.

“Senior Brother?”

“You’re safe.”

Whispering reassuringly, he breathed deeply, confirming it once more.

Yegyeol could not understand why Senior Brother reacted so intensely even though he had saved him. There was an overt sense of relief that seemed too blatant for the guise of Black Ghost.

“Perhaps things you cannot say when Black Ghost are easier to say now,” he whispered, inhaling deeply in Senior Brother’s arms.

“Were you worried?”

“When the boy said he would work, he was taken hostage by pirates; then faced the Jiaolong King. I sighed with relief, only to find that Tang Seoak was laying a trap to capture him… and then he fell poisoned.”

Setting Yegyeol down, Haryang softly touched his pale face, whispering.

“Are you truly detoxified?”

“The doctor Black Spot sent confirmed complete detox.”

“Regrettably, yes,” Yegyeol said, grimacing. He wouldn’t die anyway, but the detox was too swift. Though he could spend three months and ten days recovering with guiding, Haryang was just too capable a guide.

Yegyeol felt sorrowful.

“Can’t just go around drinking poisons.”

Poisons were precious resources, especially in the Central Plains, where poisoning was common.

Surveillance controlled poison production and distribution, and few openly practiced poison arts. Even Sichuan Tang, one of the Five Great Houses, was sometimes ostracized for using poison.

“I don’t trust doctors.”

“Samrang confirmed it.”

Knowing this, Yegyeol answered without annoyance.

From the start, Senior Brother distrusted doctors. Despite multiple changes in physician during his frenzy, Yegyeol suspected desperation to grasp any straw.

When freshly returned from Mount Kunlun, Yegyeol had a chance to observe Senior Brother’s persistence more closely. Only after multiple doctors’ cross-checks and filtering via Samrang did he accept the diagnosis.

“If Samrang confirmed it, that’s enough.”

Haryang tenderly stroked Yegyeol’s head and drew him close again.

This generation was more physically affectionate than most. But Yegyeol, recalling the Black Ghost’s touch, understood immediately how restrained Senior Brother was now.

Compared to typical disciple-mentor bonds, theirs held only affection and nothing more.

“I know it was like mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, but could it really be this detached?”

Yegyeol realized that Senior Brother’s morals and common sense had eroded over time. The Haryang he knew would never have dared touch a disciple under normal circumstance.

Yet now, after violating his disciple’s body, there was no sign of regret or hesitation.

“Conscience isn’t detachable.”

He felt like the turtle deceivee who believed the rabbit had dried its liver in the sun.

Unable to trust a liar’s calm facade, he mocked himself inwardly.

But Yegyeol differed decisively from the folk tale turtle.

“Ugh…”

At Haryang’s touch on his chest, Yegyeol intentionally shrank his shoulders and whimpered.

“Hmm, Gyeol?”

Startled by the tender voice calling his name, Yegyeol shook his hands and stepped back.

“N-nothing.”

What if Senior Brother ignored it? Then Yegyeol could acknowledge it. If the Black Ghost drew the line, Yegyeol would turn it into Senior Brother’s problem.

Licking his tongue in secret, Yegyeol kept just enough distance—not more, not less—from Haryang’s outstretched hand.

“Guide’s conscience might be detachable, after all.”

How bad would it be if a perfect guide occasionally switched conscience on and off? Such talent is necessary to survive a harsh world.

“But Senior Brother, I was born without conscience.”

Straightening his robes, Yegyeol lowered his gaze.

“It’s painful to widen the gap with my guide, but I’m ready to endure it.”

Such shameless thoughts from an esper so close by a guiding hand!

Espers were naturally riddled with holes—like Emmental cheese—not especially pleasant but full of gaps in character.

“Your face is red…”

Haryang said, bemused.

“No, just itchy.”

Yegyeol rubbed his cheek, eyes not meeting.

Having been apart for days and revived by guiding, his rosy complexion was mocked by his acting. He appeared a man trembling between embarrassment and confusion.

“You have no fever?”

“No. I’ll be fine if I rest.”

Not Haryang but a child of ten might see right through Yegyeol’s gibberish, spun to mask his plight.

“You seem tired from travel. May you rest first?”

Swallowing the order to prepare dinner for his disciple, Haryang sensed something peculiar about Yegyeol.

“All right, then.”

After the shocks, he believed Yegyeol would soon return to being the disciple he was.

But in the following days, Haryang realized something was amiss.

— — —