Chapter 106
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 106
Chapter Title: That Guy Can't Even Be a Sub-Male Lead, I Tell You?
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“You think I’d fall for such an obvious trick?”
I ran my finger over the fine paper and snorted.
Anyone could mimic that handwriting easily enough.
I turned to the side at the prickling gaze and found Biryung staring at me with wide-eyed surprise.
“…Why are you looking at me like that?”
“It just hits me every time how sharp you really are. I figured you’d be freaking out to send a reply right away.”
“You think I’m some kind of idiot?”
I grumbled as I pulled out paper and brush, and Biryung clicked her tongue.
“You say that, but you’re still writing a reply?”
“I have to send one. Telling them not to come because we won’t accept him.”
I tapped the paper with the tip of the brush.
“That way, if Namgung Seheon bolts later, his sister will look away from Shaanxi and Mount Hua, at least for now.”
The fact that they’d forged a letter in Namgung Seheon’s handwriting specifically to me meant they were probably testing if I’d become his ally.
They wouldn’t completely avert their eyes from Mount Hua over just one letter, but it’d buy us some time.
It wasn’t Biryung, lost in thought, but Biyeong—who’d been listening in from the side—who spoke up.
“But what if they show that reply to Young Master Namgung?”
“If he’s got a brain, he’ll realize it’s a smokescreen.”
I replied indifferently, then paused.
But… did Namgung Seheon even have the brains for that…?
“So what if he misunderstands that you’ve abandoned him and goes dark? What if he turns into one of those ruthless, obsessive types who doesn’t hesitate to fall from righteous clan young master to the dark path just to claim you…?”
“Argh, what the hell are you talking about!”
I cut off Biyeong with a horrified yell, unable to listen any longer.
“I told you to stop reading those trashy novels. Spend that time memorizing one more manual, you second-rate hack!”
I ignored Biyeong’s grumbling about not calling people by their cultivation level and furiously rubbed the goosebumps off my arms.
“Namgung Seheon as a dark-path-obsessed stalker? That’s got less credibility than you winning the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament.”
“Why not? I could suddenly awaken my talent and take the championship!”
“You’re talking about Namgung Seheon turning into a dark-path obsessive.”
I imagined him spouting fatal obsessive love lines while gazing down at me with those cold, languid eyes—and hurriedly clamped my mouth shut.
Urk, that made me nauseous.
“Listen up. The odds of that happening are the same as Biryung running off from Mount Hua declaring she’s getting married. Basically zero!”
“You must not read trashy novels, sir, or you’d know how common it is for a seemingly sweet male lead to snap from betrayal and turn into a forceful tyrant.”
“Sweet, my ass. He’s never acted sweet to me once. Namgung Seheon as my darling? Even a stray dog would laugh.”
I’ve read dozens more novels than you, Biyeong.
And the Namgung Seheon I know is miles away from ‘sweet,’ and I’ve never seen that type of male lead in any novel I read.
He couldn’t even qualify as a sub-male lead. At best, he’d be the friend who eavesdrops on the heroine’s love life, throws in a comment or two, or gets caught hanging around to spark the male lead’s jealousy.
“You know, come to think of—”
Biryung cut in at just the right moment, steering us away from that horrifying topic.
“I think you’re right, sir. Sending a reply is the best move.”
“Right?”
Biryung rested her chin in her hand, watching me scribble away, then shook her head and offered advice.
“If you’re going for a smokescreen, it needs to be at least this strong. Write what I tell you.”
I already knew her head and instincts were sharper than mine, so I obediently took dictation—then froze.
This… this is too harsh, isn’t it…? Namgung Seheon’s gonna cry when he reads this.
* * *
“Young Lady, a letter has arrived from Mount Hua… to the young master criminal.”
“It’s finally here.”
Namgung Se-eun took the letter and unfolded it immediately.
[You can’t even remember what you said, and now you’re asking if Mount Hua will take you in? Are you insane, you XX? You’ve got some XXXX nerve. Come here if you dare, XX. I’ll kick your ass down the sect gates’ stairs all the way to the base of Mount Hua. -Biyeon]
The moment she read it, Namgung Se-eun covered her mouth and burst into laughter.
“Is the ‘closed-door training, no replies’ excuse a lie and they really fought, or did he catch on and send this to throw me off?”
Getting one-upped by someone she hadn’t expected wasn’t pleasant, but what could she do? She hid her crumpled pride behind a leisurely smile.
“If it’s the former, it’s as pure as ink is black—my simple little brother’s ally sent it without a shred of doubt. If the latter, it’s a green kid picking a game of wits with me.”
She pinched the letter between two fingers—the one that would’ve made Namgung Seheon explode on sight—and waved it as she muttered.
“If I’d known, I should’ve paid more attention to my brother’s friends.”
Clicking her tongue, Namgung Se-eun turned to Zhuge Ilsun beside her.
“What do you think?”
“A Peng Clan youngest with sharp wits might be one thing, but Mount Hua’s little Daoist is iffy. According to Yoon-i, he’s somewhat like the brother-in-law…”
If he’s like Namgung Seheon, then… no need to reconsider. Four years ago at the Murim Alliance conference, hadn’t he yelled in front of everyone that he’d kill Namgung Seheon if he came to Mount Hua?
With that judgment, Namgung Se-eun issued an order.
“Reduce the manpower heading to Shaanxi, for now.”
She hadn’t pulled the tracking team entirely due to that one lingering seed of doubt. With one headache resolved, her eyes finally caught Zhuge Ilsun’s pitch-black mourning clothes. Namgung Se-eun sneered as she eyed him.
“But when do you plan to stop wearing those mourning weeds? Are you standing guard for me?”
“Does a son mourning his father who went first need a reason?”
At the calm reply, Namgung Se-eun smirked and extended her right hand toward Zhuge Ilsun.
The long sleeve of blue silk fluttered.
The blue of the Namgung symbol she’d clutched even after abandoning her humanity.
“Sorry for being such a heartless mother. Where else would that cold blood go—the blood that watched one child try to kill another for the family’s sake.”
Her right hand cupped Zhuge Ilsun’s cheek fully as she hummed, gently stroking it with her thumb.
“This is what I hate about you, Zhuge Ilsun. Remember what I said when you told me to choose you?”
Meeting those sharp, ruthless eyes, Zhuge Ilsun swallowed a bitter smile inwardly.
Imagining how much colder those eyes would grow if she learned he’d opened an escape route for Namgung Seheon, he gently placed his hand over hers and whispered.
“Of course.”
* * *
“Damn, someone’s cursing me. My ear itches like hell.”
Namgung Seheon scratched his ear with his pinky and strode down a deserted, dim alley with his long legs.
The two shadows trailing him soon became cold corpses, sliced by his sword and rolling on the ground. The stench of blood filled the narrow alley.
With no time or leisure to clean up, he left them be, his fairly long hair swaying lightly in the wind. He irritably swept back the strands blocking his view and lowered his gaze.
Looking down at the bloodied tracker from his own clan sprawled on the ground, Namgung Seheon’s pitch-black eyes rippled with a mix of regret, guilt, self-loathing, and more.
He knew better than anyone that it had been an unavoidable choice.
The moment he surrendered out of old ties, his only paths were death or being dragged back, dantian shattered, tongue and meridians severed, reduced to a crippled wreck thrown into the clan’s dungeon.
“Haaah…”
Stumbling to a blood-free wall and floor, Namgung Seheon slumped against it and let out a long-held breath.
He’d never been good at navigation to begin with, and now evading trackers had pulled him further from the mapped route.
“I look like a beggar.”
He mocked himself, gazing at his ragged, worn clothes. If the Beggar Clan thugs came hassling him for invading their turf while he rested—worried he’d steal their bowl—they’d have said their piece.
Even to himself, his current state was far from a prestigious clan young master. Then again, he’d been struck from the family register, so he could no longer call the Namgung Family his own.
In his weary state, closing his eyes brought one face vividly to mind.
Had he emerged from closed-door training? Had his sister—no, Namgung Se-eun—received the letter he’d barely smuggled past her eyes? Would she believe in him despite the rumors…?
Despite the absurd, horrific false charge that left no time even to protest his innocence, he’d had no choice but to flee the clan.
As he ran, he’d thought it fortunate.
That he hadn’t brought his childhood—and ongoing—first love to An-hwi’s main house back then, sparing her entanglement in this mess.
Without Biyeon’s advice to flee at the first sign of trouble and Zhuge Ilsun’s inexplicable aid, he’d have been caught off-guard, crippled, thrown into the clan dungeon, or killed.
“Guess I won’t see him at this Dragon-Phoenix Tournament. Ha, I was looking forward to it…”
Letting out a hollow laugh, he clutched the map charting the path to Mount Hua.
He could only desperately hope he wouldn’t die or get captured before arriving—that the final image of Biyeon he remembered wouldn’t freeze forever at seventeen springs.