The Question of the Old Bookshelf

Ouyang Qiangang fell silent for a moment.

Yeon Sa-hyeok… one of the heirs of Gold Mountain Tower, personally running an errand this dangerous? Just how powerful is this 'she' he keeps mentioning, to set a man like him in motion…?

When Qiangang showed no sign of rising from his seat, Yeon Sa-hyeok spoke.

"Young Master Hahu, we haven't much time. She wishes to meet you before tonight is over."

"Who is this person?"

"…You'd best go and see for yourself. She is someone I hardly dare speak of. But I can guarantee that today's meeting will do you no harm whatsoever."

Ouyang Qiangang's eyes deepened.

From Yeon Sa-hyeok's expression and tone, it was not difficult to guess that 'she' was no ordinary figure.

"Very well. Let's go."

The place Ouyang Qiangang arrived at, following Yeon Sa-hyeok, was the deepest hidden chamber of the Drunken Dream Tower — a members-only pleasure house in the Imperial Capital known only to a select few.

From the outside, the Drunken Dream Tower looked like nothing more than a modest, antiquated pavilion.

But the moment one stepped through its doors, an entirely different world unfolded, severed from the mundane one outside.

The faint notes of a geomungo drifting through the air along with thick musk lulled the heart, blurring the line between dream and reality. Maidservants in silk robes glided soundlessly down the corridors like shadows, and every wall and pillar was carved with magnificent dragon motifs.

It was an unspoken declaration that the imperial family's hand had touched this place.

Inside the hidden chamber.

A strikingly handsome man in his thirties, an imperious aura radiating from every inch of him, sat in his chair and silently watched as Ouyang Qiangang entered the inner room.

When their eyes met, Qiangang's mind grew complicated.

That presence isn't martial power — it's an innate temperament. Could it really be him?

Yeon Sa-hyeok bowed with cupped fists and spoke.

"Your Highness, this is Young Master Hahu Gang, of whom I spoke."

Then, turning to Qiangang, he continued.

"Young Master Hahu, pay your respects. This is His Highness the Second Prince of the Great Hwan Empire."

He had expected it, but learning that the handsome man was indeed the Second Prince made Ouyang Qiangang's brows twitch.

He folded his hands and bowed his head.

"I am Hahu Gang, the humble one. It is an honor to meet Your Highness the Second Prince."

The Second Prince, Han Seo, burst into hearty laughter.

"Hahaha! To think the Life-and-Death Divine Doctor who drove out the plague is so young — if the world knew, wouldn't it cause quite the stir?"

"You flatter me."

"How could it be flattery? There is no one alive ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠who doesn't know that not a single divine physician in history ever laid a hand on the plague."

Ouyang Qiangang responded in a calm voice.

"You didn't summon me here to talk about that, I suspect?"

Han Seo's gaze turned frighteningly intense.

"I can't remember the last time I met a man who says whatever he pleases in my presence. Your confidence is as great as your ability, friend."

He gestured to the chair across from him and went on.

"Right. I didn't call you here for that sort of talk. Sit."

Once Ouyang Qiangang was seated, Han Seo spoke.

"They say you've developed a new salt-refining method. Is it true?"

"It is."

"Thanks to that, the old man of Gold Pagoda Mountain Manor is seething. He's been throwing money at every corner of the realm to keep Myriad Gold Mountain Manor from entering the salt trade."

"Is that so?"

"You'd think it would concern you, yet your reaction is lukewarm."

"Whatever they do, it doesn't matter — Sojeo will secure the license. She is a person capable of exactly that."

"You mean Sangguan Wan'er?"

"Yes."

"Remarkable trust."

"If I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠didn't trust her, I wouldn't have joined hands with her in the first place."

"Well, then."

Han Seo leaned back against his chair and continued.

"You and I share a common enemy."

"What do you mean, Your Highness?"

"If you're pretending not to understand, I'm disappointed."

Ouyang Qiangang replied with perfect composure.

"I've been told so many times to watch my mouth when dealing with the imperial family. And my head isn't particularly sharp, I'm afraid. So please spell it out for me. I will listen carefully."

"You have the manners of a gentleman and somehow the cheek of a street urchin. A strange combination."

"I have not the slightest intention of displeasing Your Highness."

Han Seo smacked his lips and spoke.

"You need to get past the interference of Gold Pagoda Mountain Manor, and I need to get past my brother. If you join hands with me, what you gain will be more than a mere salt license."

"A tempting offer."

"So — will you take my hand?"

"You seem quite certain that you can surpass the Crown Prince. Might I ask why?"

A fierce divine light blazed in Han Seo's eyes.

It was unmistakable proof that his martial attainment was far from ordinary.

Of course, Ouyang Qiangang didn't so much as twitch an eyebrow.

Han Seo's gaze grew heavy as he spoke.

"You're asking me to reveal the secrets of the imperial house."

"I'm only asking for grounds upon which I can make a judgment."

"Hmm…"

After a low rumination, Han Seo opened his mouth as if he had made up his mind.

"My brother is a bastardo."

Ouyang Qiangang feigned shock, widening his eyes as if he had known nothing.

"Is that true?"

"If you cure Myeonghwa, His Majesty will surely have you treat my brother next. In that situation, would I have any reason to tell a lie that would soon come to light anyway?"

"That is true enough."

What the Second Prince wanted was for Ouyang Qiangang not to treat the Crown Prince.

"Now seems the time for an answer to my proposal."

Ouyang Qiangang remained silent for a moment before speaking.

"Your Highness, it would be difficult for me to decide right now."

Flames of fury flickered in the prince's eyes.

But he suppressed them and asked.

"Why?"

"At this moment, nothing matters more to me than the swift recovery of Princess Myeonghwa. To accept an imperial commission and then divide my strength among other affairs would be an act of disloyalty to His Majesty."

"Hmm…"

"I believe it would be proper to discuss the matter again after the Princess's treatment is complete."

His words left Han Seo momentarily at a loss for a reply.

Then, before long, he laughed loudly, as if greatly amused.

"Hahaha! Indeed! A worthy answer from the man Yeon Sa-hyeok rates so highly. Fine. I won't press for an answer today."

His eyes deepened as he continued.

"Once you've cured Myeonghwa, we shall meet again."

"Thank you, Your Highness."

"When that day comes, you had best give me a definite answer."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Han Seo rose from his seat and left the hidden chamber.

It was close to midday when the first treatment of Princess Myeonghwa was brought to a safe conclusion.

Ouyang Qiangang left Myeonghwa Palace with heavy steps.

The imperial palace was a strictly forbidden domain that neither Yeom Pung nor Sangguan Wan'er could enter.

Because of that, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Ouyang Qiangang realized once more that, in the end, he alone stood at the heart of this great maelstrom.

He had just stepped onto a quiet path leading toward the palace's main gate when a slender thread of telepathy pierced his ear.

The voice was young, but the inner power carried within it was anything but shallow.

When Ouyang Qiangang asked, the voice came again.

His voice was courteous, yet laced with a firmness that brooked no refusal.

Recalling how Yeon Sa-hyeok had used much the same words the previous evening, a wry smile tugged at the corner of Ouyang Qiangang's mouth.

So that's who this 'lord' is. He must have found out that I met with the Second Prince.

Ouyang Qiangang answered without hesitation.

The voice of the telepath led him to an old library archive tucked away in the deepest, most secluded corner of the palace's rear garden — a place long forgotten in the memories of men.

In that deserted spot, a man stood alone, waiting for him, bathed in the sunlight streaming through the window.

As Ouyang Qiangang entered the archive, the owner of the guiding voice silently emerged from the shadows.

Dressed in black combat garb, the man bowed deeply toward the figure standing by the window.

"Your Highness, I have brought Young Master Hahu."

The man, who had been gazing out the window with his back to them, gave a silent nod, and the guard warrior bowed once more before melting away into the shadows as though he had never been there at all.

Only then could Ouyang Qiangang properly face the man standing alone in that place.

He had a face strikingly similar to the Second Prince Han Seo's, yet his entire bearing was so different that it was hard to believe they were twins.

If the Second Prince was a blazing flame, this man was a thin sheet of ice that might shatter at any moment.

A pallid complexion, lips tinged with the color of illness — and yet, presiding over it all, eyes of impossible clarity and depth.

This was none other than Han Do, the Crown Prince and First Prince of the Great Hwan Empire.

He opened his mouth with a gentle smile.

"Thank you for coming all this way, Young Master Hahu."

His voice was frail, yet it carried a dignity that defied description.

"Your Highness the Crown Prince… to what do I owe this…?"

In place of an answer, the Crown Prince ran his fingers over the worn old volumes of the archive and spoke quietly.

"This old bookshelf holds countless books that have lost their masters. Some preach loyalty, others preach rebellion — each speaks of a different path. Tell me, Young Master Hahu — what manner of book do you think would be most interesting to you?"

It was a courteous yet razor-sharp question, asking which side will you choose?

Ouyang Qiangang, who saw through his intent at once, answered with a blank expression.

"Your Highness, before debating which book is the finer, I believe it is more important that this bookshelf itself remain standing, preserved intact."

His unshaking gaze turned toward the Crown Prince.

"However excellent the books may be, what use are they if the shelf collapses?"

At that unorthodox answer, a faint glimmer of admiration lit the Crown Prince's eyes for the first time.

"…Preserving the bookshelf is what matters. Truly, a fitting answer from one revered as a divine physician who holds life and death in his hands."

A profound bitterness seeped into his voice as he continued.

"Then, may I ask you just one more thing?"

"Please, speak."

"In your view — the book my brother offered you last night — do you think it will make this bookshelf sturdier, or will it rot away the very pillars at its foundation?"

The Crown Prince's question was a checkmate in every sense.

To criticize the Second Prince would make an enemy of him; to defend him would cost the Crown Prince's trust.

No matter how he answered, Ouyang Qiangang could not avoid being drawn into the vortex of this colossal power struggle.

But Ouyang Qiangang had no intention whatsoever of accepting a checkmate.

He did not avert his eyes from the Crown Prince's deep gaze, and spoke in measured tones.

"Your Highness, with any book, its value is determined by the one who reads it. However noble a scripture may be, if it falls into an evildoer's hands it becomes a weapon that ravages the world; even a trifling book of tales, held by a sage, can become the wisdom that saves it."

He paused briefly, then continued, looking the Crown Prince squarely in the eye.

"Whether that book will tear down the bookshelf, or make it sturdier still… does it not, in the end, depend upon the heart of the master who opens its cover?"

Ouyang Qiangang was declaring that he would take no side at all.

As the Crown Prince let out a long sigh, a bittersweet smile rose to his lips.

"I think I understand why the world calls you the Life-and-Death Divine Doctor. You don't merely cure illness — you see straight through to the hearts of men."

He went on.

"I will make you no proposals and no promises. Whose hand you take — that choice will be yours."

Drawing a breath, he spoke with a note of lament.

"Only — ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I ask that you not let Myeonghwa become a sacrificial lamb in this brutal political struggle. As a physician, treat that child's illness, and nothing more. I beg this of you."

His words contained no personal ambition whatsoever — no request that he examine him as well.

There was only the tender worry of an older brother for his younger sister.

Ouyang Qiangang bowed his head.

"I will do my utmost, Your Highness."

Akasha, scan the Crown Prince's body.