Episode 11
Episode 11
Yeo Il felt that something was off, but she feigned ignorance and asked back.
“What is the Changpae Saryong?”
“What do you mean, what is it…?”
Whether her question shocked him or not, Namgung Hui-myeong replied with a somewhat deflated expression.
“The Changpae Saryong refers to Namgung Jeok-myeong of the Namgung Clan, Bang Woo of the Mount Hua Sect, Chu Ryong of Kunlun, and Wi Seo-ryeon of the Ice Flower Blood Heaven. Are you saying you’ve never heard their names even once in your life?”
“I have heard of Bang Woo of the Mount Hua Sect.”
“Tsk. If you only know one, it should be Elder Brother’s name, not that narrow-minded beanpole from the Mount Hua Sect!”
He was certainly full of energy. Namgung Hui-myeong, who had been shouting nonstop, slowly caught his breath and narrowed his eyes.
“Well, I suppose you’re not completely ignorant. …By the way, why do you keep calling me Lord Hui-myeong?”
“Since you are Lord Hui-myeong, I call you Lord Hui-myeong. Should I call you Lord Jeok-myeong instead?”
“You were born after me, so shouldn’t you naturally call me Orabeoni? Are you walking on eggshells just because we have different mothers?”
She sipped her tea without giving a proper answer. Namgung Hui-myeong stopped nitpicking the title and turned his head. Then, for whatever reason dissatisfied him, he vanished in a flash.
Seol-yeong shook his head at the behavior of appearing and disappearing like the wind.
“That noisy youngest fellow didn’t say a single word about those rumors. Seems he can’t see anything other than his sword.”
That appearance did seem somewhat urgent. While the impatience dwelling in his sword had lessened, the impatience dwelling in the person had not been completely relieved.
Perhaps the cause lies with the Sogaju (Clan Heir).
The real guest did not visit Yeo Il until that evening.
“Lady Namgung Soyo, the Sogaju (Clan Heir) is looking for you. If your time permits, I would like to escort you to Giyeon Pavilion myself. Would that be acceptable?”
Namgung Jeok-myeong.
She could not yet determine whether he was reacting to the rumors circulating among the maids or if the timing simply coincided.
However, the fact that their reunion after ten days was today—not four days ago, nor three—was suspicious enough.
Before Yeo Il could respond, Seol-yeong rose to move, but the guard who delivered Namgung Jeok-myeong’s order swiftly blocked him.
“I apologize, but the order was to bring Lady Soyo alone. The maid and the guard cannot accompany her. I will protect her, so do not worry.”
Calling her outside the Clan rather than within, and separating Seol-yeong and Chang-a from her side—this was not a typical situation.
“I will go out, so please wait outside the door.”
“Yes.”
After the guard left, Seol-yeong leaned close and whispered.
“Shall I kill him if it comes to that? If there’s even a chance, I’ll have your sword and bags packed.”
“I always feel this, but you seem to regard me as some street thug from the Demonic Cult. I don’t think that will happen, but just in case, do not leave Chang-a’s side.”
Yeo Il left the Namgung Clan, leaving behind the nodding Seol-yeong.
Contrary to her expectations, Giyeon Pavilion—which Namgung Jeok-myeong was said to frequent almost daily—was quite far from the commercial district and modest in appearance.
Red lanterns bloomed like flowers along the deserted street, casting a faintly sinister atmosphere. Laughter and music drifting from within felt hazy, like a dream.
The guard led Yeo Il to the innermost room on the top floor.
The sudden melody of a pipa intertwined with a sorrowful voice like vines between notes. Namgung Jeok-myeong, seated beneath the full moon pouring wine into a cup, looked back at Yeo Il and smiled.
“You’ve come, Soyo. Sit comfortably.”
Once she took her seat opposite him and the door closed, only three remained in the isolated room: Yeo Il, Namgung Jeok-myeong, and the woman quietly plucking strings in the corner.
“Was the journey here uncomfortable?”
“Since the Sogaju (Clan Heir) summoned this humble girl alone after sunset, I feared I might again be attacked by assassins.”
“Haha, there is no need to fear. I watched the path you took from this very seat; who would dare threaten you? Even if I look like this, your Orabi is a swordsman who has made quite a name in this vicinity. Put your mind at ease.”
“Why did you call me to Giyeon Pavilion?”
“Because Cho-hong’s singing is the finest in all of Mount Cheonju. Soyo, I wanted you to hear it at least once in commemoration of your return to the Namgung Clan.”
The conversation flowed smoothly, yet it felt different from the exchange she had with Namgung Hui-myeong.
“I am curious how you have spent the past ten days.”
A casual question, as if unaware of the indifference of those ten days.
“I have fared well while receiving undeserved hospitality.”
“And no inconveniences?”
“There are no inconveniences. However, I have one request to submit to the Sogaju (Clan Heir).”
“There is nothing I cannot grant my only sister. Yes, what do you wish?”
“I wish to see the Gaju.”
A brief silence. Along with the soft tilt of a wine cup, Namgung Jeok-myeong asked,
“The reason?”
“Is he someone who can only be seen if there is a reason?”
“It is not like that. Grand reasons are not needed to share affection between parent and child. Still, I must know the reason, Soyo.”
“….”
“Our Namgung Clan can promise you support without deficiency. In the first place, Father must have called you back with such an intention. It means he is not one to treat you with contempt even if you do not go out of your way to see him. Do you still insist on meeting him? For what grave reason?”
“I wish to see my mother, Sogaju (Clan Heir).”
“….”
“Do you see the necklace around my neck? Aside from this keepsake, I do not properly remember my mother. I wish to see Father and ask him whether my mother is alive. I have no other purpose.”
The silence this time was longer.
The sound of pouring wine ceased.
From a certain moment, Cho-hong’s performance also stopped.
Now only two presences remained.
Amid the prolonged silence, Namgung Jeok-myeong finally spoke.
“Soyo.”
“Yes.”
“Do you know of Salmak?”
To hear that name here.
Yeo Il responded as if nothing were amiss.
“Are you speaking of the Public Enemy of the Murim who terrified the world until two years ago?”
“You know it well. A notorious assassin organization that appeared one day and vanished like a phantom. It is also the name invoked when parents who have not forgotten those days frighten their children.”
After a short pause, Namgung Jeok-myeong continued.
“Father was once attacked by an assassin of Salmak and suffered a wound that cannot be healed. To this day, he suffers greatly from that injury. It is such a dreadful wound that he cannot stop having seizures at the mere mention of Salmak.”
“Did such a thing happen? In my ignorance, I did not know…”
“Haha, do not be flustered. It is natural you would not know. It is a grave secret known only to a handful.”
The sound of another cup tilting echoed softly.
His breath remained clear, without the slightest trace of drunkenness.
“But do you know this, Soyo? The assassins of Salmak bear a brand on their left shoulder blade. They say it is a terrible burn that can never be erased.”
“….”
“You cannot see Father yet. However, your Orabi can ask the Gaju about your mother’s whereabouts on your behalf. In exchange, you must prove one thing before me.”
“What would that be?”
As she asked, Yeo Il was certain the corner of his mouth curved into a deep arc.
“That you are not an assassin of Salmak wearing the skin of Namgung Soyo.”