Lying on Brushwood and Tasting Gall (6)
“So you let him get away?”
“……My apologies.”
Mu Yeon rarely showed himself. Even in front of his lord, Moyong Gun, it was the same.
Yet here he was, revealing himself and bowing his head. It was a sign that, this time at least, he had no place to put himself in his shame.
Moyong Gun chuckled softly.
“No, it’s not your fault. I should have warned you just how clever that bastard is. If there’s any blame, it’s mine—not yours.”
Words that only made his heart feel heavier. All the more because they rang so true.
“One thing you should know. He can never harm me. Not here, at least.”
“Understood.”
“If something like this happens again, just follow orders without question.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“You’ve done well. Get some rest.”
Ssslruk.
Mu Yeon vanished without a word. An astonishing movement technique. Even watching openly, he scattered like mist.
It evoked not mere lightness skill, but daoist arts or sorcery.
Moyong Gun smiled.
“That guy was so desperate he had to resort to such petty tricks?”
Forgiving Mu Yeon was only natural. In truth, he knew little of Yeon Hojeong. Until now, he’d been stationed at the clan, not the alliance, and had only followed for this mission.
Moreover, Mu Yeon’s presence had revealed just how rattled Yeon Hojeong was. It would have been ideal if he’d uncovered the enemy’s identity or why Yeon Hojeong was so frantic, but this was harvest enough.
At that moment, a messenger pigeon fluttered to the windowsill.
He caught it deftly and unbound the letter from its leg.
“Hm, quick work.”
A satisfied smile crossed Moyong Gun’s face.
“One thing we can say for sure—no matter what else, in Hunan Province, we outpace even the Beggars’ Sect.”
Muk Ryong Bu were bold fools indeed. Then again, with the Immortal Emperor’s right-hand man at the helm, it wasn’t hard to see why they’d nest where one of the Six Great Clans held sway.
Still, they’d need to prepare more thoroughly against them. They’d never grasp just how ferocious or vicious the Moyong Clan could become when it set its mind to it.
Moyong Gun folded a pre-written letter and tied it to the pigeon’s leg.
Pararak!
Sending it off once more, he sipped his tea.
“Fine tea.”
Preparations were complete. One reply, and all would be set.
“Do your best, Commander Yeon. I’m counting on you to really cut loose if I’m to save face.”
* * *
Four days later.
“Whew, all done.”
“Good work.”
“Good work? You’re the one who’s been through hell.”
“Then let’s say I suffered the most.”
Jegal A-yeon chuckled.
“Fine, you win the suffering contest.”
She said it in jest, but it was her honest feeling.
Just what the hell is this guy?
She’d wondered countless times, but she still couldn’t fathom the limits of Yeon Hojeong’s talents.
Breaking through to Mujongjibyeok just past his early twenties? A shock to the world, sure—but chalk it up to once-in-a-millennium genius, and it fit. History had its share of such prodigies.
But that wasn’t what made Yeon Hojeong terrifying, in Jegal A-yeon’s eyes.
She didn’t see his martial prowess as the real threat.
Is this guy actually born to be a king or something?
Drafting the Muk Ryong Bu reorganization chart, she’d lost count of how many times she’d marveled at his insight. He spotted flaws in the unlikeliest places—most so subtle they’d slip past anyone.
Structuring an organization wasn’t so different from crafting strategies or tactics. As a scion of the Jegal Clan, famed for strategic genius, she should have outshone him.
Yet the results said otherwise.
“Seriously, what are you?”
Yeon Hojeong chuckled.
“Still on about that?”
“No, I’m genuinely curious. Martial arts aside, even seasoned scholars wouldn’t spot half this stuff.”
“I dabbled in studies while playing the wastrel as a kid.”
“What kind of ‘dabbles’ make you good at everything?”
She had every right to be exasperated. Truth was, Yeon Hojeong had never formally studied such things.
But he had a decade-plus of frontline experience, turning the tide in battlefields where wits alone barely kept you alive. He’d built Heukje-seong from the ground up, hands-on with personnel and organization.
Not book-learned, but forged in the crucible of reality’s voids and solids. Naturally, he surpassed her.
“Anyway, this looks solid enough.”
“‘Solid enough’?”
Jegal A-yeon rarely turned serious.
“You’re really giving this to Yang Cheon?”
“Yeah.”
“Be straight with me. I think it’s too risky.”
Yeon Hojeong smiled.
“‘Deceive your allies first to fool the enemy’—but I’d rather not go that route if I can help it. Still, when dealing with foes, half-measures won’t cut it. That much I know.”
“Sigh.”
“Don’t worry. No matter how airtight the structure, it’s people who make it tick.”
Jegal A-yeon grumbled, displeased.
“I know that. That’s why I built it this way—thinking of Muk Ryong Bu’s future.”
“Exactly. But even with this, they can’t implement it right away. They lack experts in key fields.”
“Why not hand it to the Mu Rim Meng instead…?”
“No.”
Yeon Hojeong cut her off firmly.
“The alliance is a coalition. They don’t show it, but self-interests run deep. This chart doesn’t fit— it’d just spark a power grab bloodbath.”
“You really think that?”
“Look at Moyong Gun. He doesn’t say it, but his faction props him up to claim the top spot—not because they truly made him leader.”
Jegal A-yeon frowned.
“So the Black Path’s different?”
“For now, at least.”
“Why?”
“The Black Path’s vicious. The worst ones fight without rules. But it has one edge the White Path lacks.”
“What’s that?”
“Long years of oppression.”
Jegal A-yeon’s eyes widened.
“How’s that an advantage?”
“It is. Imagine that pent-up grudge igniting into passion and hope when they unite.”
A chill ran down her spine.
Yeon Hojeong gave a wry smile.
“That’s the world for you. Stagnant water rots, but murky waters can clear someday. White Path, Black Path—same deal.”
“……”
“So yeah, I do think the White Path bears some blame for the Black Path turning into this cesspool.”
“The White Path’s to blame too…”
He shrugged.
“Just my take. Don’t overthink it.”
Jegal A-yeon chuckled.
“Not overthinking. Just memorizing the cool lines.”
“Hilarious.”
“So, when’re you heading to Yang Cheon? Tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
Fatigue shadowed her face. She slumped in her chair, grumbling.
“Then I can rest today, right? Nothing left to do.”
“Yeah. Take it easy.”
“……Why does that sound like you still have stuff to do?”
Yeon Hojeong shrugged.
“Even as nominal commander, I can’t slack off all day.”
“Skip it and drink with me?”
“Forgot you’re on duty, Strategist?”
“Bullshit.”
“Rest up.”
With that, he left the room.
Jegal A-yeon smiled at the door.
“How’d I end up tangled with you? What a weird fate.”
Outside, Yeon Hojeong checked on Gadeuksang and Paeryul.
Gadeuksang faced walls daily, gathering intel from the troops and compiling reports on Changsa’s mood, Ak Lok San, and Hunan Province at large.
Paeryul, meanwhile, trained relentlessly. His swordsmanship, once shown to Yeon Hojeong, had leaped in proficiency over these few days.
And Dang Sang-a.
……
He toyed with the slim cylinder in his bosom. A foot long, barely a finger’s width thick.
Yet it housed hidden weapons to send hundreds to hell.
A type of u mo chim—hair-thin needles coated in deadly poison.
Of course, this one was empty. Already triggered once.
Yeon Hojeong steeled himself.
No reason to hide it anymore. Time to show her.
He’d kept it from Dang Sang-a due to her temperament. Inexperienced, first mission like this—she’d fixate on tracing its origin, risking a fatal slip at a key moment.
But can’t hide it forever.
Better to reveal it now, ramp up the investigation.
So he decided.
He was heading to Dang Sang-a’s quarters when—
Kkiiik!
The gate burst open roughly.
Yeon Hojeong frowned. It was Hwa Won.
What the?
Whoosh.
An ominous aura poured from Hwa Won’s body.
Yeon Hojeong tilted his head.
“What’s this about?”
Hwa Won glared without answering.
He scowled.
“Spit it out quick. And drop that ugly look first.”
“Was it you?”
“They say you’ve got a silver tongue. Stirring curiosity in your mark—that’s a skill, I suppose.”
A sly deflection. But Hwa Won wasn’t in a playful mood.
“You know what I mean.”
“Dunno why a monkey keeps barking nonsense.”
Tzztztzt.
Killing intent boiled from Won Gak, trailing her.
Thud!
With Hwa Won’s menace and Won Gak’s hostility, the others couldn’t sit idle. Gadeuksang, Paeryul, Jegal A-yeon, and Dang Sang-a emerged.
Hwa Won growled.
“Last chance. Answer honestly, or you all die here…”
“My last warning too.”
Yeon Hojeong’s eyes turned glass-clear.
Whoosh.
A subtle aura surged, dominating the compound. Verdant dignity—the manifestation of Azure Dragon Qi.
Surprise flickered in Hwa Won’s eyes.
“Retract that killing intent now, or I’ll rip out that worm’s head before he even knows what hit him, then judge you.”
“……!”
“Don’t like it? Fine.”
Wooong!
His pupils flashed azure for an instant.
“Already in a shit mood—perfect timing.”
Hwa Won shouted.
“You bastards—surely not Gwi Cheol…!”
In that moment, she glimpsed flames erupting from his body.
Whoosh!
Pow!
“Grahhh!”
A horrific scream as Won Gak collapsed.
Startled, Hwa Won whipped around.
Crack!
Yeon Hojeong stood on Won Gak’s chest, gazing at her. Indolent, indifferent.
His indescribably mad glare made her swallow involuntarily.
Yeon Hojeong beamed.
“Wait just a sec? Gotta yank this one’s head first.”