Chapter 96
Chapter 96
“I do not care.”
He has already found me.
As she replayed Namgung Pae’s words, Yeo Il’s brow twisted.
Now that she thought about it, it irritated her.
How dare he try to frighten her by invoking Cheonmunju to her face?
Anger surged. She was about to tighten her grip on the sword—
A familiar scent carried on the mountain breeze brushed her nose.
Then—
“Lady.”
A low call halted her.
“With such lovely hands, must you truly draw blood? If you must vent your temper, tearing at someone’s hair would at least be less troublesome. If your clothes are stained red, that would be inconvenient.”
“……”
“Of course, though I may prefer you stained red over that chick-yellow dansam you are wearing…”
Leaning against a pillar, Jin Cheong-ak spoke lazily, as though reciting poetry beneath the moonlight.
Yeo Il felt Namgung Jeok-myeong’s gaze behind her sharpen further and loosened her grip.
At the same time, she was reminded that such moments had occurred not once or twice before. The anger that had briefly subsided flared again.
Why am I following this bastard’s whims as though it were natural?
Why indeed?
Because of a single sentence spoken before the old man closed his eyes.
[You say you do not know how to govern your inner self? You fool… you have remolded your bones and yet speak nonsense… What is so difficult? Do not do wicked things. Live kindly. If you wish to dissolve the knot in your heart, there is no other way.]
Yes. Only that.
It is not because of Jin Cheong-ak.
But strong denial is strong affirmation.
Grinding her teeth at the thought soured her mood further. Instead of sheathing the blade, she flung it at Jin Cheong-ak.
“Oh dear.”
He turned lightly aside to avoid it, then picked up the fallen weapon and brushed it off.
“To handle a blade so roughly when it has an owner…”
He approached and held it out to Namgung Jeok-myeong.
Still wary, Namgung Jeok-myeong accepted the sword and said with a thin smile,
“I thought you no ordinary man. I did not imagine you to be a Young Master of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.”
“Haha. It is fine, Young Master of the Namgung Clan. There is no need for self-reproach. Few in this world know me. There was a time when my motto was to live as though I were both present and absent.”
He glanced at Yeo Il and added quietly,
“Once.”
There was a trace of bitterness and self-mockery in his voice.
Yeo Il imagined the expression he wore as he looked at her.
That face that blames me again.
The one she had come to find difficult to meet head-on.
She took a step forward.
At that moment, Namgung Jeok-myeong pulled her arm as though to stop her.
“Are you leaving?”
Simultaneously, Jin Cheong-ak burst into booming laughter, loud enough to sweep across the entirety of Hangryong.
The sound reverberated off walls, pillars, and galleries, yet none of the intoxicated guests dared open their doors.
Abruptly, he stopped laughing and his expression darkened.
“What exactly do you find so appealing?”
He rubbed his neck slowly and sneered.
“What do you hope for, Young Master? In the end, you will receive nothing. It is a waste of time. Give up. She is not someone you can manage.”
After a silence, Namgung Jeok-myeong calmly drew Yeo Il closer by the waist.
“I do not know what you speak of. You seem burdened with idle thoughts. Clear your mind, Jin Cheong-ak. Or rather—Young Master Jin. To my ears, your words sound meant for yourself.”
The two men stared at each other.
Between them stood Yeo Il.
When will this end?
Whatever they said, her attention had long since shifted elsewhere.
If left alone, he might flee at any moment.
Her patience exhausted, she brushed aside Namgung Jeok-myeong’s hand and moved toward the stairs.
“Soyo?”
His puzzled call sounded behind her.
She ignored it.
The reason was simple. Among the three troublesome men, one particular person was of far greater use to her.
The physician who would treat Seol Yeong.
“Ah. Thank goodness!”
The physician hurried forward and supported her with visible relief.
“How is the young man? I would like to examine him further… though the atmosphere is somewhat…”
“I have been waiting. Come in.”
“Yes, yes.”
As she led the physician inside, one of the men spoke behind her.
“And so—where is Wolgeom?”
That blade-obsessed fool.
Yeo Il shoved Namgung Jeok-myeong into the room and, just before closing the door, tossed back a single sentence.
“Where the moonlight does not reach.”
Her eyes met Jin Cheong-ak’s once more.
Neither spoke.
Thud.
The door shut.
After examining Seol Yeong, the physician entrusted Yeo Il with medicinal herbs and reassured her that his recovery was swift.
She did not think her expression required comfort. But physicians were often like that.
As she silently regarded Seol Yeong’s battered face—beaten senseless over the name Seol Seorin—she heard unexpected gratitude.
“You have my thanks. I owe you.”
Namgung Jeok-myeong had assisted during the examination and was now catching his breath.
“Did you borrow money from me? I recall only being the one indebted.”
“Soyo, I survived the threshold of life and death because of you. That is a debt.”
A convenient logic for fools.
“I had no intention of incurring debt. Each of us merely bore what we could.”
“You live coldly.”
She nearly told him he should live even colder.
Then remembered he already did.
And yet you are soft. You heard Namgung Pae speak of Wolgeom twice.
Did he not suspect she was Wolgeom Il-sal of Salmak?
Perhaps not.
After all, she had shown him her bare back.
Or perhaps, as she always did, she would set a trap while he let down his guard.
As if reading her thoughts, Namgung Jeok-myeong met her gaze steadily.
“But I am not the same. I chose to drink the tea. A choice is a choice. A benefactor is a benefactor. Because of you, I have gained some understanding of Uncle’s long-held ideal.”
“……”
“When we return to the Namgung Clan, I will show you the Sal-saeng-bu you desire so much.”