Chapter 117
Chapter 117
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 117
Chapter Title: Yopung's Memories
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“You picked the wrong side.”
A low voice echoed.
“Do you think I picked a side?”
Hwangbo Seung said.
“No?”
“No. We just got on the same boat because we needed each other.”
“Either way, you made the wrong choice. Or maybe choosing Lord Cheol wasn’t the mistake. Your real mistake was not stopping Lord Cheol from trying to wipe out our Wind Squadron. If you had, I wouldn’t have cared whether Gun Cheokjeon’s group lived or died. I’d have taken my pay and headed back to the Central Plains long ago.”
“From the moment the war started, you lot were already on the casualty list. It has nothing to do with the Blood Wolf Clan.”
“So you planned to embezzle from the start?”
“How long are you going to hide? Don’t you have the guts to face me?”
“I’m coming now, you bastard.”
Swoosh!
A brilliant blue glow exploded near Hwangbo Seung’s ankle.
“Gasp!”
Hwangbo Seung freaked out and kicked off the ground, launching his body upward. He barely dodged Ak Muyoo’s ambush, but something else awaited him.
The ceiling.
Thud!
Hwangbo Seung’s head smashed through the ceiling. Normally, a head hitting the ceiling would bounce back, but with his inner energy fully channeled, his neck sank in up to the base.
“Urk!”
Caught in an utterly unexpected situation, Hwangbo Seung panicked. He unleashed the Thousand-Jin Press technique, pushing against the ceiling with both hands.
Squelch!
In that instant, a chilling sensation pierced his dantian.
“N-No!”
Hwangbo Seung screamed as his head was still stuck.
Thump!
He collapsed to the floor.
“How could this...”
Hwangbo Seung was dumbfounded. It felt like a dream. If he’d lost to martial arts, he could accept it. But he’d been defeated without even swinging a single palm or sword stroke.
Because of the ceiling.
“Having strong martial arts doesn’t mean you always win.”
Ak Muyoo gripped the dagger’s hilt. He slowly twisted it and pulled it out.
“Don’t get too happy about winning today. You will die for sure.”
Hwangbo Seung said.
“Even so, I’ll live longer than you, so that’s fine.”
“You...”
“Sorry. I’m busy right now, as you know. This place is crawling with guys who need to die.”
Ak Muyoo leaped into the darkness. Soon, his figure vanished.
Thud!
Hwangbo Seung’s head lolled to the side, lifeless. Even after his death, screams continued unabated from underground. Then, at some point, the screams cut off abruptly, and silence fell.
A profound silence, like the depths of the ocean.
Within it, two glassy spheres moved. They were Ak Muyoo’s pupils, searching for enemies.
There were no living foes left.
Ak Muyoo returned to the spring.
Yopung was already there.
“Here!”
Yopung held out her waterskin.
“To wash off the blood?”
“Yeah.”
“Hold this and light up my back.”
Ak Muyoo handed her the night-luminous pearl. Yopung took it and shone it on his back.
Her night clothes glistened with enemy blood. Ak Muyoo scooped water and poured it over his neck. The water trickled down his contours, washing away the blood.
After pouring, he rubbed with his palm and poured more.
Once his back was done, Yopung shone the light on his front.
“Want me to wash your front too?”
“Might as well do it all while we’re at it.”
“Sure, why not.”
He washed the front the same way. Then Yopung washed herself.
“I’ll bathe and come out, so go ahead and get the camels ready.”
“Got it.”
Ak Muyoo dressed and went outside. The exit passage connected to the spring chamber.
Night had already fallen.
Ak Muyoo headed to where the warrior squad’s camels were. There were fifty of them. Supplies were loaded high on their backs—food, of course, and even liquor. Not fermented mare’s milk, but Central Plains liquor.
“Rations, huh.”
Ak Muyoo grinned.
As he led the camels toward the village, Yopung emerged.
The two mounted the camels.
“There’s a place I need to stop by.”
“A place?”
“There.”
Yopung pointed to a sand dune towering on the left.
“Let’s go.”
They drove the camels to the dune.
Up close, it wasn’t a dune but a hill of earth and rock. The hill rose about thirty zhang high.
They left the camels at the base and climbed.
Yopung went up to about a third of the way. A cave opened at a spot overlooking the village. Yopung stood before it, gazing quietly.
“This is where I lived with Mom after we were chased out, until she passed. Every morning, she’d sit there watching the sunrise.”
Yopung pointed to the left.
A small mound stood at the spot she indicated.
“Mom’s grave?”
“My little sibling’s buried with her.”
“...”
“My sibling died first. I buried them together so Mom wouldn’t be lonely.”
“I hope they at least had a paper effigy.”
“It’s fine.”
Yopung went to the grave and bowed.
“Mom, it’s me. I’m doing well. Thanks to this guy, I’ve become a stronger martial artist than you were.”
Yopung pointed at Ak Muyoo.
After gazing at the grave for a while, the two entered the cave. The cave had a central space with two openings on the right and one on the left.
A stone table that looked like a dining one sat in the center.
“That’s the kitchen.”
She pointed left.
Ak Muyoo went to the kitchen.
A large jar stood on the left side. A pot still hung from the stove, and firewood was stacked beside it.
“Every morning, I’d go down below and fetch water to fill that jar. Mom would cook. She wasn’t well, but she always smiled.”
“Must’ve been happy.”
“Yeah. Those were the happiest days.”
“Who made this cave?”
“Dad.”
“And Dad...”
“He went to Ganzhou with my brother to get medicine...”
“He never came back.”
“Yeah.”
“Didn’t your dad practice martial arts?”
“No.”
“Probably an accident.”
“Or maybe he got tired and left.”
“I doubt that.”
Ak Muyoo went left. Even after twenty-plus years, the door was intact. Yopung pushed it open.
A rock bed was inside.
“A sand bed.”
“Sand bed?”
“We hollowed out a big rock and filled it with sand.”
“Spread cloth on top, and it’d be a comfy bed, right?”
“Exactly.”
“Let me see.”
Ak Muyoo pulled out his windbreaker cloth, spread it over the sand bed, and lay down.
“Better than sleeping on straight sand.”
“I’m sleeping here tonight.”
“And I should go?”
“Do whatever.”
“You’ll cry if I leave you alone.”
“You think I’m a kid? Why would I cry?”
“You will. Wanna bet?”
“You just want to sleep with me.”
“Huh? ...Is that how it is?”
“Fine. I’ll save you a spot.”
Yopung smiled.
“So I just lie here?”
“Let’s eat something. I’m starving.”
“Food’s just this.”
Ak Muyoo pulled out jerky and showed her.
“Soak jerky in water, boil it, add grain powder, and it’s a fine meal.”
“Sounds tasty.”
“I’ll fetch water.”
Yopung grabbed a jar from beside the water vat.
“Let’s go together.”
Ak Muyoo removed the pot and went down with her.
They washed the pot at the spring, filled it with water, and returned to the kitchen.
They poured most of the water into the jar, leaving just enough in the pot, and hung it on the stove.
Yopung chopped kindling, laid it on the floor, and lit it. Flames rose quickly.
She stacked thicker logs on top. Being dry, hardly any smoke rose.
“Add the jerky now.”
“Can I?”
“Yeah, so it softens properly.”
“Got it.”
Ak Muyoo stuffed in plenty of jerky.
As the water boiled, the jerky began to break down. Oil floated on the surface, and once it softened enough, he added grain powder and stirred. The porridge was done in no time.
They ladled it into large bowls and left the kitchen.
“Lighting a fire really warms up the house.”
“That’s why homes need people.”
“Exactly. Let’s eat.”
They sat at the stone table.
“I’ll pour you a cup.”
Yopung lifted a liquor bottle. It was from the warrior squad supplies—seemed high-end, probably for Hwangbo Se-woo.
“This liquor was in the supplies too?”
“Mix of pricey stuff and cheap swill, tons of it.”
“You’re not gonna get me drunk and jump me?”
Ak Muyoo held out his cup, saying.
“If I wasn’t gonna jump you, why pour liquor?”
“Pfft! Good point.”
Ak Muyoo chuckled.
“How’s this?”
Yopung pointed at the porridge.
“Tasty. Where’d you learn this?”
“Mom made it often. In the middle of the desert, we couldn’t get fresh food. So we always boiled jerky and grain powder into porridge. Tastes way better with seasoning—supplies probably have salt. Want me to get some?”
“Let’s eat plain today and add salt starting tomorrow.”
They emptied their cups and ate the porridge.
After finishing and cleaning up, they went outside and sat. Stars seemed ready to pour from the sky.
“When I was little, I’d watch those stars with Mom a lot...”
Yopung murmured softly.
“I’d curse that bastard while staring at them.”
“That bastard?”
“My father.”
“Why?”
“Haven’t seen him since I was eight.”
“...Damn. You grew up more pitiful than me.”
Yopung grabbed Ak Muyoo’s head and hugged it.
“Enough, you punk.”
“Let’s head in.”
“Yeah.”
They entered the room. The night-luminous pearl Ak Muyoo had set out gave off faint light.
Yopung spread her windbreaker cloth over his.
They slipped between the cloths.
“Give me your arm.”
“My arm?”
“Manners.”
“How long you gonna use it?”
“Till morning.”
“Won’t it hurt?”
“You giving it or not?”
“Ugh!”
Ak Muyoo extended his arm.
“Annoying?”
“A bit.”
“No wonder you got no lover, punk.”
“Don’t need one to live fine.”
“What a joke. Close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Gonna give you something good, so just close ’em.”
“No way you got anything good.”
He said that but closed his eyes anyway.
Then something moist touched his lips. It took a while to realize it was Yopung’s lips.
“Hey!”
As he opened his mouth, soft flesh pushed in. Ak Muyoo’s eyes snapped open. Right then, he met her pitch-black gaze. They stared at each other. Then slowly closed their eyes.