Same Bed, Different Dreams (6)
“Are you here?”
“……”
“We’ve received word. Myeong Heo-rim is currently passing through Mongseong. He’s still moving slowly, so it’ll take at least two days even at best.”
“Got it.”
“Just in case, you should stand by at the entrance to An-ga after noon tomorrow.”
“Yeah.”
“Then.”
The informant from Huangfeng Pavilion vanished.
Yeon Hojeong, who had been leaning against a tree with his arms crossed, let out a sigh.
“No helping it.”
Myeong Heo-rim had to be caught, no question. Not just because of the deal with Moyong Gun or the family’s reputation, but because it was clear he’d cause trouble sooner or later.
With Myeong Heo-rim’s talent, he’d master the fake Sasinmu just as quickly as Myeong Cheon. If he learned it without even noticing the changes in himself, countless unrelated people could get hurt down the line.
And as the grandmaster of true Sasinmu, Yeon Hojeong couldn’t just let that slide.
“Muk Bi… Hah, they say things don’t go as planned.”
The moment he learned of Anhui Blood Bow on Bagong Mountain and that Muk Bi was there, he’d rushed over without a second thought.
But he hadn’t expected her organization to be in such a chaotic mess.
He’d at least spared their lives for now…
I can’t force her along.
If there had been any hint of a bloodbath in the works, he’d planned to hear them out first, then decide whether to let them go or help. Afterward, he’d thought of bringing her back under his wing.
If she was just holed up on Bagong Mountain for no particular reason? He’d planned to persuade her somehow and make her one of his own.
Not because of her talent or their past camaraderie.
To stop Saneumgyo, he needed forces he knew well. In truth, back then, he’d been the one who utilized Muk Bi most effectively in strategy.
But in this situation, dragging her away by force right now was impossible.
Yeon Hojeong stepped out onto the street and headed to the second floor of the annex behind Cheongsaru.
“Ah, you’re here?”
“How’s the child?”
The middle-aged physician sighed.
“She’s passed the worst crisis. Born frail, and then poisoned with that vile toxin on top of it.”
“Can you detoxify her?”
“It’s tough, but not impossible. Raising her constitution along with it will take quite some time, though. Depending on recovery, but at least a year.”
Yeon Hojeong nodded.
“Still fortunate.”
“Fortunate doesn’t even begin to cover it. A day or two later, and she’d have crossed the river of no return. The heavens must have intervened.”
“Her father worked hard for it. Seems his devotion reached the skies.”
“Ah! Right. Huh? Where’s the father, then?”
Yeon Hojeong gave a wry smile.
“Who knows.”
With that, he headed to the room across the hall.
“Hah! Hah!”
Baek Gung-cheon lay on the bed, drenched in cold sweat from head to toe.
All his wounds had been treated, but his life force was spent.
Was it the shock? Or sheer emptiness?
He was rapidly losing his vitality.
Yeon Hojeong gazed down at Baek Gung-cheon silently, then turned away.
Drip.
Muk Bi—no, Baek Hyang—huddled in the corner, tears brimming in her eyes.
“…It’s my fault.”
“What is?”
“If I hadn’t had this talent…!”
Yeon Hojeong shook his head.
“Your circumstances are none of my concern.”
It was a cold statement.
Baek Hyang looked up at him through tear-streaked eyes.
Seeing them, Yeon Hojeong felt an indescribable emotion swell.
She’s dead.
Her eyes were lifeless.
Even amid the writhing grief and regret, they were steadily losing their spark.
Once that light fully extinguished, they’d be Muk Bi’s eyes.
Muk Bi knew duty and responsibility, but it was little more than trained reflex.
She’d only started showing emotion more often after mingling with him and the Black Emperor Castle warriors.
But she still never gave her heart to others.
A thought suddenly struck him.
What had Muk Bi thought upon hearing of his death, perishing alongside the Saneumgyo leader?
How had she taken the loss of her lord—and perhaps her one and only friend?
Yeon Hojeong’s mouth opened on its own.
“You’re not that kind of person.”
“…Pardon?”
“You never showed your feelings easily. But you weren’t emotionless. You were a warrior with a heart hotter than anyone’s.”
Even through her deep sorrow, Baek Hyang felt bewilderment.
What is this young man saying?
“I liked you. At least back then, you knew how to choose your own path in life. Even if it was painful, you never complained.”
“Wh-what are you…?”
“I didn’t know your past. Never imagined this. But digging further would just be meddling.”
“…?”
“The past is the past. I just wanted to fix the parts that would lead to a horrific future. For that, I need to be a different me from the old one.”
“…?!”
“Tell me. How do you want to live?”
Baek Hyang’s eyes shook violently.
How did she want to live?
No one had ever asked her that.
From a childhood she couldn’t even remember, she’d gripped a bow, pulled the string as if it were natural.
Her life had been set as a prodigy archer destined for divine bow status.
She’d simply lived that way. It was the norm. She’d never considered otherwise.
“I’ll ask again.”
“……”
“Do you believe in this ‘divine bow’ you’re supposed to become?”
“…!”
“As I thought. Neither you nor that archer on the bed believes in it. Yet you strive for it anyway—without even knowing what it is, let alone believing.”
Shock etched across Baek Hyang’s face.
Yeon Hojeong sighed.
“If you ever want a new life, stop by a Beggar Sect branch and mention my name. I won’t take responsibility for your life, but I can offer some help. For a price, of course.”
Yeon Hojeong turned.
“My name is Yeon Hojeong.”
With that, he left the room.
Thud.
As the door closed, only Baek Gung-cheon’s ragged breathing remained.
Baek Hyang stared blankly at the door.
The storm that had raged inside her seemed to vanish in an instant.
But the words it left behind churned her mind.
Then—
“Cough! …Hyang.”
Startled, Baek Hyang turned to Baek Gung-cheon.
“F-follow him.”
“Brother!”
She rushed to his side.
“Are you okay? Are you lucid now?”
“Lucid… I’ve been since earlier.”
Baek Hyang placed her hand on his chest.
“If you’re lucid, sit up straight! I’ll channel qi to—”
“Don’t.”
“Pardon?!”
“I know my body best. I’m dying soon.”
Tears burst from Baek Hyang.
Baek Gung-cheon grasped her hand.
“Hyang.”
“…Yes, brother.”
“Hyang, Hyang, Hyang.”
He called her name over and over.
At that desperate voice and the warmth she hadn’t felt in so long, Baek Hyang bowed her head.
Baek Gung-cheon smiled faintly.
Such a smile didn’t suit his stern face.
“Remember? From childhood, our brothers doted on you.”
“……”
“But at some point, our eyes toward you grew cold. Mine too. We realized your talent far surpassed ours.”
“……”
“The elders saw your skill and canceled the contest. They thought your talent too precious to waste. So the one five years ago ended ambiguously.”
“Brother.”
“But… doesn’t that mean we all had to die by your arrows? I hated that decision. So I hated you even more.”
Tears fell onto Baek Gung-cheon’s hand from Baek Hyang.
“Still, I shouldn’t have hated you.”
“No. No, brother.”
“Instead of hating you, I should have left Gwanil Valley.”
“…!”
“To become the divine bow, I should have embraced death. That’s the life of a prodigy archer. But I couldn’t face death.”
Baek Gung-cheon’s smile faded.
“Because I lived complacent. If I hated that, I should have left the valley. If I wanted to stay, I should have accepted death.”
“……”
“The brightest moment in my complacent life was meeting my wife. And…”
Moisture welled in Baek Gung-cheon’s eyes.
“And learning I had a daughter.”
She wasn’t his real daughter.
But he’d treated her as one.
The shock had been immense, but Baek Gung-cheon didn’t regret staking his life for the nameless girl.
“Whether she’s truly mine doesn’t matter. What matters is I lived by my will, even if briefly. So I’m grateful to her.”
“Brother…”
“Live the life you want. If you don’t know what that is, go out into the world like I did. I hope you feel that ecstasy I did.”
“Hic.”
Baek Hyang clutched his hand, sobbing silently.
He stroked her hair.
How long since he’d petted his little sister’s head?
At the same time, he thought: If he had more time, he’d have done the same for Ga-ryeong.
“Help me sit up.”
Baek Hyang lifted his upper body.
Baek Gung-cheon leaned against the wall by the bed.
“Hyang.”
“…Yes, brother.”
“I want to see your archery one last time.”
“Pardon?”
Baek Gung-cheon pointed to his heart with a trembling hand.
Baek Hyang’s face went pale.
“The rest died by my hand. Baek So-kyeong was the last.”
“Brother!!”
“Survivors of the Divine Bow Contest often didn’t return to the valley. They might come hunting you. But…”
Strength filled Baek Gung-cheon’s eyes.
“Yeon Hojeong—that young man—can protect you for a while. I saw that much power and potential in him.”
“No! I can’t! How could I kill you with my own hand…!”
“You lacked even that resolve?”
“…!!”
“Did you enter the contest without it? Praying to win without killing or dying? Then be ashamed.”
“B-brother.”
“I promised that young man Yeon Hojeong. To apologize to the Beggar Sect. I said you’d do it in my stead after I die, but that won’t do.”
Baek Gung-cheon closed his eyes.
“I owe him a great debt. I couldn’t repay it at all. So at least keep the promise.”
“Hic-hic!”
Baek Gung-cheon smiled.
His closed-eyed smile looked utterly serene.
“Please.”
After shedding tears for a long while, Baek Hyang suddenly stepped back.
Tzzt.
An intangible arrow seemed to form on her empty bowstring.
Baek Gung-cheon exclaimed in admiration.
“Formless Bullet! Magnificent as ever!”
Baek Hyang bit her lip.
“…I’m sorry, brother.”
“Shoot.”
“……”
“Now!!”
Baek Hyang squeezed her eyes shut.
She released the string.
Twiing!
Thuk!
* * *
“Hah! Hah!”
A man panted as he climbed a dark mountain path.
His hair was disheveled, his clothes torn in places.
He looked every bit the beggar.
Yet his movements were swift.
Even with his breathing so ragged, he ascended like a tireless leopard.
I’m almost there!
Ecstasy surged in the man’s eyes.
An-ga! I’m finally safe!
That was when it happened.
“Myeong Heo-rim.”
In an instant, goosebumps prickled across his skin.
He whipped his head to the right, where the voice came from.
There stood a young man with hands behind his back, gripping an enormous axe.
“I’ve been waiting.”