Chapter 60
Chapter 60
“Pardon? Right now? Where are you going? Wait, Miss—good grief! Please put your clothes on properly!”
Yeo Il turned back once more, watching Seol-yeong, whose ears had turned bright red as he stood at a loss. Then she opened the bundle of clothes Chang-a had secretly brought her.
As she donned the garments and ornaments she had worn on the day she threatened the false Namgung Chu-myeong, she recalled the Alliance Leader’s words.
The unsettling movements beneath the surface are not limited to Yeonghwang Yuse. The Heavenly Demon Cult is involved as well.
The Master of Chwihyang Garden was not someone easily touched. But if the opponents were the Heavenly Demon Cult and Yeonghwang Yuse, that was another matter.
If Seol Seorin had truly fallen into danger, those pursuing her most closely would be those two.
“Do you think she departed for Henan as soon as her leave began?”
Though the question lacked a subject, Seol-yeong understood at once.
“Yes. Well… having grown up with little, she may lack in many things, but she never skips meals. She would likely have taken a light breakfast and set off around the hour of the rabbit.”
Her leave lasted but ten days. Even if she had gathered her belongings, she would have chosen the fastest route.
The weather had not been excessively hot nor plagued by storms. Assuming steady travel, calculating the time required to arrive—
Even narrowed down, she was late by half a day to a full day.
“When Namgung Jeok-myeong returns, tell him I have urgent business and will be away briefly.”
Seol-yeong, still facing away as though unsure whether to turn around, asked,
“Pardon? Is that permissible?”
“If you are confident you can conceal my absence from the Namgung brothers until tomorrow at noon, then try. And remain with Chang-a, just in case.”
Though he must have heard everything, Jin Cheong-ak continued to pretend to doze. She kicked him awake.
Yawning widely, he gathered his sword and followed her.
As Yeo Il leapt from the window, Seol-yeong whispered,
“Miss! Where are you going?”
“Well. To where your sister is.”
If Seol Seorin was still alive.
“I doubt she lives.”
It was the first thing Jin Cheong-ak said after trailing silently for some time.
As if in mockery, rain began to fall—light droplets for now, though they might turn torrential at any moment.
Quickening her pace, Yeo Il replied without slowing,
“She is cherished by the Gate Master of Hangryong. They would not kill her lightly. Which, conversely, makes her more valuable.”
Seol Seorin’s guards were martial artists of no small skill.
There remained the possibility they were evading capture or seeking an opportunity to counterattack. The longer they stalled, however, the more disadvantageous it would become.
Seol Seorin had two routes to choose from.
One ran along the river, more rugged but shorter. The other was gentler yet circuitous.
Yeo Il chose the former.
It is inconvenient, but not to the extent one would avoid it entirely.
During times like the present martial tournament, merchants often used it to save time.
Assuming Seol Seorin had taken this route, Yeonghwang Yuse’s first move was obvious.
Upon reaching her destination, Yeo Il turned to Jin Cheong-ak.
“We must cross the river first.”
“Ah… through this bridge?”
He laughed hollowly, eyes fixed on the bridge dangling in a half-ruined state.
At best, it was scarcely better than rags.
The river below flowed ever more fiercely. It would not kill them outright, but the gorge was deep; climbing back up would cost considerable time.
“That wakes me up. A bridge perfect for smashing one’s head like a potato. Have you finally decided to kill me?”
“There is no other crossing. Hurry and carry me.”
He laughed again.
“Yeo Il? Me? Must I?”
If they crossed as one, he could not drop her.
“No complaints.”
She spread her arms toward him. With a look of resignation, as though aged ten years in an instant, Jin Cheong-ak hoisted her onto his back.
“You grow ever more inventive in tormenting me…”
They stepped onto planks that swayed like icicles hanging from branches, gripping frayed ropes as they crossed.
Apparently loath to fall into the river, Jin Cheong-ak placed each step with painstaking caution, sighing heavily from time to time.
“There is one thing I would ask before I die. Will you indulge me?”
At the midpoint, he spoke with weary seriousness.
“If it is earnest, speak. We will die together regardless.”
“I am curious about your original name.”
“Yeo Il.”
He laughed—until the rope jolted violently and his expression froze.
“That name belongs to the original owner of the jade ring you cherish. I was not asking about a borrowed name.”
Yeo Il stared at the back of his hand at her eye level, veins bulging as he gripped the rope.
“Not Namgung Soyo. Not Yeo Il. Your true name.”
Suddenly she wondered whether to jab him and send him plunging.
“What could it be? What might it be? Does Cheon Mu-ryeong not know either?”
She glared at his hand in earnest.
At times she felt the urge to cut down Jin Cheong-ak for presuming familiarity after glimpsing but a fragment of her inner self.
Yeo Il detested others knowing her. The mere thought repulsed her. Most people sensed that and tread carefully. Jin Cheong-ak merely feigned caution; within days he would needle her again without hesitation, which made him all the more vexing.
But such irritation held meaning only when concealed. As always, she restrained herself.
“What meaning lies in a name?”
“There is meaning.”
“Not for me. I was not born into some great clan of nobility, nor do I hold special affection or tender memories of family.”
“Then why do you call yourself Yeo Il, Yeo Il?”
What business was it of his?
“If names bear no meaning, why that one in particular? Why the name of the jade ring’s owner—wait. Stop.”
His prattle halted abruptly.
His tense gaze fixed precisely upon her hand—more specifically, the fingernails digging into the back of his hand like hooks.
At last, some quiet.
“Easy—calm down, Yeo Il. Yeo Il?”
“Shut up and move your limbs. Do you plan to cross the bridge with your tongue? Will we make it by today?”
“Yes, yes. I understand. Enough playing. I dislike getting wet. Becoming a drowned rat is sufficient when it rains.”
She pressed harder with her nails, urging speed. His movements quickened at once. She clicked her tongue.
“If you would behave thus from the start, how much better. Why provoke me?”
“Hm. Because ordinarily I cannot tell what you are thinking. But at times like this, I can.”
“……”
“Though the timing was unfortunate. Hanging from behind, I cannot quite see your face—fine, fine! Damn it. You are the only one who can make my heart race like this…”
Upon reaching the opposite bank, Yeo Il increased her pace once more. Not long after, they arrived at their first objective.
Before them stood the second bridge—once intact, now utterly collapsed.
Jin Cheong-ak whistled lightly.
“I see. So that is why we crossed earlier. This bridge is entirely unusable.”
He brushed back his rain-soaked hair and added,
“Impressive foresight. And what of the return? They would have planned for that side as well.”
“No.”
“…”
—