Chapter 87
Father and Uncle Namgung Wan left after just eating some dumplings. Whether they actually left or simply said they were and kept tailing us, who knows.
After safely returning from our outing, a servant informed me that Father had come back first but then left again on some errand. I acknowledged it and gathered my thoughts. I already had something to handle while he was away anyway.
'Yahul.'
The child Father had brought was using a demonic art against a Baekdo Murim scion right in front of the Namgung Clan’s front yard. One more step, and those words would have become reality. Just imagining it made my vision blur, and the fallout was beyond prediction.
'What on earth were you thinking...'
I had to ask. And ensure it never happened again.
As I took off my outer robe, I looked at Yahul.
"Yahul, I need to talk to you for a—"
Suddenly, Yahul dropped to his knees in front of me. I was so startled I forgot to breathe.
"...!"
"I did wrong."
Whatever I’d been about to say evaporated instantly. I just blinked before squeezing out the words like wringing my lungs.
"...Get up."
"I really did wrong."
"..."
I glanced around, double-checking there were no presences nearby, then looked back at Yahul. My head throbbed automatically. I bit my lip several times to steady myself before asking,
"First off... how did you end up tangled with that Cheon Gong-ja kid?"
I only knew he’d cut in line cleverly; nothing else yet.
Yahul bit his lip and continued.
"While you were off with the Seo young lady, I was waiting in line, and he suddenly cut in."
"And?"
"I didn’t want to cause a scene, so I just stayed quiet... but then he turned around and asked if I had a problem with him cutting. I said no."
Yahul’s expression as he recounted it was calm—no resentment or grievance about the situation itself. He was only watching my reaction.
"Then he said my face looked off and patted my cheeks, telling me to smile."
Haa. I let out a deep sigh.
'They were even bigger bastards than I thought.'
Starting trouble with someone just standing there. No real reason. Probably because he was alone and looked like some nobody from a minor house. And I was surprised.
'Yahul held back a lot.'
He endured the line-cutting, endured the provocation. They say to see a person’s true nature, give them power? Restraining power you already have is hard enough. Especially a demonic art.
When emotions flare, self-control weakens, and the demonic art slips in. The more you use that power, the more self-control fades, reason slips away, hesitation vanishes, and eventually, you become someone who revels in blood and slaughter. That’s the terror of demonic arts.
Yahul probably only realized afterward, once he snapped out of it, that he’d nearly used it.
"From there, it’s like you saw."
His red lips bitten raw, Yahul went on.
"I tried to hold back, but then that guy hit you. So... I got so mad."
He couldn’t hold back after seeing me get hit? I didn’t know what expression to make. Seeing him only watch my face, combined with his words... it stirred real pity in me.
"..."
Silence stretched through the room after Yahul finished.
My plan was this: First, reprimand Yahul’s mistake. Then advise him that to avoid repeats and future injustices, he should build strength—and suggest becoming Cheonsan Yeomje’s disciple.
Yeah. Deep down, when it happened, I thought it was a good thing. An excuse to separate from Yahul. A perfect reason to push him openly toward Cheonsan Yeomje. And I wouldn’t even have to tell him myself. Just tell Grandfather.
Father, who’d been watching me, hadn’t intervened then, so he probably didn’t know Yahul had tried to use the Soul Absorption Demonic Art. Even I might not have noticed without my golden eyes.
Whatever the reason, telling Father that Yahul tried using it in the market would make him react more sharply than me.
"I did wrong. I won’t ever do it again." And Yahul had sensed it.
"Huh? Don’t throw me away."
"I..."
I swallowed dryly, forcing down my trembling voice.
"When did I ever say I’d throw you away?"
We both knew the truth, but I lied. How did he know? Did I tip him off that obviously?
I looked at Yahul kneeling before me. No. Kids are just sensitive by instinct. He’d intuitively read my intent to discard him.
And... for some reason, anger started building.
'Why am I getting so mad?'
My chest felt tight and suffocating. Clenching my fists, I realized—Yahul’s posture was exactly like mine in the past. Pleading while watching for cues, desperate not to be chased out, not to be hated by Father, clinging however I could...
I grabbed Yahul’s arm and pulled him up.
"Get up."
He resisted, but I forced him to his feet.
"I won’t tell Father, and I won’t make you Cheonsan Yeomje’s disciple."
"...Really?"
"Yes, really."
Only then did Yahul stand. Pity welled up. I reached out and stroked his head.
"I’ll get stronger."
"What?"
"Yeah. I have to."
I made the vow. No need to wait for Namgung Ryu-cheong—if I’d been strong enough to flatten them right there...
"If I’d been strong, none of this would’ve happened. You wouldn’t have had to step up to protect me."
"..."
"Your constitution is the issue... but the world’s so vast; we’ll find a way eventually, right?"
My words grew weaker toward the end... Yeah. What, with my future knowledge, if I work hard, I can protect at least one Yahul, right?
...Probably?
"But this is the last time."
I continued firmly.
"Control yourself from now on. No matter what—even if I’m in danger—never use the Soul Absorption Demonic Art again. Got it?"
Yahul looked at me with unreadable eyes. I flashed the most confident smile I could muster.
"You won’t need to protect me anymore. I’ll protect you so this never happens again!"
The next day, Cheonsan Yeomje came looking for me first thing in the morning. It was too early for lessons.
The moment he saw me, he bellowed,
"What the hell happened yesterday?!"
"Pardon?"
No way... Did word of the market scuffle with Cheon Gong-ja reach even him? How?
As I pondered where to start explaining, Cheonsan Yeomje dropped a total bombshell I never expected.
"Yahul says he wants to be my disciple."
"...Huh?"
"What, you didn’t know either?"
"No... I didn’t. Yahul really said that?"
No, just yesterday...
I was utterly dumbfounded. Seeing my face, Cheonsan Yeomje narrowed his eyes.
"Guess you really didn’t know."
"Yeah."
"Then you wouldn’t know the condition that brat attached either?"
"Condition?"
"Hah, get this. Putting conditions on becoming my disciple."
Cheonsan Yeomje’s aura sharpened with anger even as he spoke.
"The one who loves more always loses," I quipped playfully on purpose.
He gave me a look like he couldn’t believe it. I followed up,
"So, what’s the condition?"
"Not telling you."
"What? Tell me!"
"I’m off."
"Wait, where are you going? Tell me first!"
"No lesson today, so deal with it."
Then I saw a hand flying at me. I ducked in surprise. When I looked up, Cheonsan Yeomje was gone.
"What the...?"
He came, said his piece, and vanished completely.
I stared blankly in the direction he’d gone... and a wave of injustice washed over me. I’d given up pushing Yahul to him yesterday, and now this? It was good, but... all my agonizing had been for nothing!
'This feels... so unfair!'
I shot to my feet and dashed to Yahul’s room. But it was empty.
"Where’s that kid?!"
I changed course and ran.
"Father!"
His room was empty too. No, where was everyone except me?! I hadn’t overslept, so why was everyone out and about at the crack of dawn?!
As I stomped around the residence in a huff and trudged back to my room, I spotted a familiar servant approaching.
"Lady Baek Ri-yeon, you’re already up."
"What’s going on?"
"The Clan Head summons you."
I tilted my head curiously.