Chapter 31. The Emperor Has Changed?
Hwa Cheon-un nodded and added,
“Even so, it won’t be enough. If three Dosanrim robbers join forces, even you’d struggle to handle them, brother.”
Fierce light poured from Hwa Cheon-gang’s eyes.
“Dosanrim…. Have you figured out why they’re sticking their noses into Gwangeonbang’s business?”
“Not yet.”
Hwa Cheon-un’s face remained calm, but his tone carried an unmistakable gravity. It was exceedingly rare for the four great sword sects and three great dao gates to intervene in squabbles among their subordinate factions.
“The only way… is to break Eldest Brother’s closed-door seclusion.”
Everyone flinched in shock at Hwa Cheon-un’s words.
“That’s out of the question!”
Hwa Cheon-gang slammed the table with a thud.
“Breaking his seclusion now could cause qi deviation!”
“If we sit idle, the seclusion will break anyway. If everyone’s tied down defending Cheongsu Cave… we lose.”
“That can’t happen. My brothers and I will defend Cheongsu Cave to the death.”
Hwa U-geuk gritted his teeth as he spoke, but Hwa Cheon-un merely gazed calmly at Hwa U-cheon. Hwa U-cheon, the eldest son of Hwa Cheon-baek, realized this was a moment that demanded his decision.
Hwa U-cheon let out a sigh.
“Perhaps… Father has already reached the same conclusion.”
It was when he lay down to sleep.
“Damn it! A friend!”
A sudden thought struck him. Won Seung kicked off the blanket, shot upright, and bellowed.
“Then I can’t just stand by and watch a friend in danger, right?”
Won Seung’s scream-like shout jolted Jong Bi awake. She scrambled over.
“What? What’s wrong?”
Won Seung, face half-dazed, said to her,
“I’ve got a friend. But that friend’s on the verge of death.”
Jong Bi yawned, looking utterly baffled.
“That’s what had you yelling in the dead of night? Over something so trivial? You scared the hell out of me.”
“No, this is important. I can’t just watch a friend die.”
“Then what? Die in their place? That’s not happening either. If they croak, oh well. Scatter some paper money later.”
Rubbing her droopy eyelids, Jong Bi turned to shuffle back.
Fuming, Won Seung snatched a pillow and hurled it.
Whoosh!
“What the—?”
Jong Bi spun reflexively, swatted the pillow aside, and glared daggers. The dagger now in her hand confirmed she was every bit the assassin.
“What’s your deal? Who’s this dying friend?”
Won Seung didn’t answer. He just stared blankly at the ceiling and muttered,
“Hwa Yeo-wol….”
At the name Hwa Yeo-wol, Jong Bi flinched and lowered her dagger.
“Hwa Yeo-wol’s your friend?”
“Yeah. We decided to be friends.”
“Hmm. Friends in that short time, huh…. Girlfriend?”
Jong Bi’s expression turned peculiar. She’d long been smitten by Hwa Yeo-wol’s beauty.
“A friend’s a friend… What’s this ‘girlfriend’ crap?”
“You’re too young to get it… A girlfriend’s a whole different thing.”
“Quit yapping and go to bed.”
Instead of leaving, Jong Bi plopped down at the table.
“Hwa Yeo-wol’s dying?”
“You heard it yourself. Gwangeonbang’s hitting Cheongsu Gate. She’ll die too.”
Won Seung muttered on, still dazed.
“Save Hwa Yeo-wol, kill her uncle Hwa Cheon-gang… This mission’s way too tough!”
“Hmm. Yeah, that’s messy. She’s your ‘friend,’ but offing her uncle? Just cut ties.”
“Would Hwa Yeo-wol even want her uncle dead? That’d be perfect… Nah, she’s too kind for that. Or is she? They could be scheming over the sect lord seat. For her dad to take over, Hwa Cheon-gang or the current lord Hwa Cheon-baek has to go. Just kill ’em all?”
Listening to Won Seung’s rambling, Jong Bi pondered. Her conclusion was straightforward.
“Ditch Hwa Cheon-gang, let’s bail. One kill in training’s a win. Snag the county magistrate and head back. Hwa Yeo-wol? Fate’s call. We’re killers, not saviors.”
“No way!”
Won Seung shouted.
“We’re already friends.”
“That matter?”
“Hell yeah.”
Won Seung’s eyes bulged as he declared resolutely,
“I got no friends. Wait—one. One died way back…. Now two?”
Jang Chil felt like a friend too. Whether Jang Chil saw it that way, who knew. Dead No. 92—no name, but a childhood pal.
“Then if Hwa Yeo-wol dies, you still got one. I got zero.”
“You don’t know precious ’cause you got none. Get one. You’ll see.”
“I’m good without. Sleep’s priority.”
Jong Bi shook her head and slipped out.
“You’re one heartless assassin. Cold-blooded to the core.”
“Shut up!” Won Seung yelled, then slammed the door behind her.
He sat on the bed, sorting his thoughts. Friends with Hwa Yeo-wol now—he couldn’t just watch her die.
So this is fate. Gotta be pickier about friends from here on.
A total stranger turns friend, now fretting over her safety…. Mountains or world, be cautious with friends.
Already up, he circulated his qi while scheming: how to off Hwa Cheon-gang in the chaos and save Hwa Yeo-wol.
The next day.
Won Seung sought out Sangyang’s largest bookstore. Posing as Seongwangbu, he needed Huangdo’s lay of the land.
Scholars hungry for office knew Huangdo gossip best.
“Welcome! Looking for a specific book? Happy to help.”
“Nah, just browsing. I’ll grab what catches my eye.”
He waved off the pushy clerk and scanned the shelves. The bookstore’s garden had scattered tables where guests chatted idly.
As Won Seung browsed, three scholars at a nearby table debated exam trends.
“Military reforms for sure. Focus there.”
“Nah. Ministers’ authority and bureaucracy.”
Deadlocked, the third chimed in.
“Ease up—lay out arguments. Why military reforms?”
“Yeonryeok year 3. Emperor’s ready to push his vision. Court’s got messes to fix. Start with military strength.”
Won Seung dropped his book in shock.
Yeonryeok year 3! Emperor changed?
New reign era meant new emperor.
Won Seung’s assassin camp life and backroad trek to hide tracks left him clueless. Street folk barely knew or cared who ruled unless prodded.
Dizzy, Won Seung thought,
Lucky I came. Dodged a bullet—total farce otherwise.
Claiming Huangdo roots without knowing the emperor? Instant fraud bust.
He kicked himself for complacency. Ten years remake the world; thrones flip too.
Won Mansion? Father?
Kidnapped young, survival mode; matured to revenge grind. Forgot the world spun on. Assumed Won Mansion frozen in time.
Won Mansion curiosity sparked impatience. He sidled into the scholars’ chat.
“Fascinating stuff—couldn’t help overhearing. Military reforms makes sense, but why ministers’ authority and bureaucracy?”
Scholars eyed him warily, then relaxed at his scholarly pallor. The bureaucracy guy spoke.
“Current Emperor’s just fifteen—barely grown. Time to define ministers’ roles for court discipline. Tight bureaucracy plugs leaks from a boy-king.”
Emperor fifteen? Joo Nung on the throne?
Crown prince was Joo Gwang back then; youngest Joo Nung ascends? What the hell?
Won Seung recalled palace visits with stepmother Joo Gunju and Won Sochu—playing with Joo Nung.
The scholar dropped ear-grabbing news.
“…And exam questions? Rumor Won Guksa pulled strings. Who’s he? Ex-Minister of Rites—sharpest on emperor-minister rites.”
Jackpot: father’s update.
Father’s Guksa? When’d he tutor Joo Nung?
Won Seung nodded unwittingly.
“Makes sense. He’s big on bureaucratic power balance.”
Scholar blinked, surprised.
“You know Won Guksa well?”
“Eh, heard bits long ago.”
Father’s power-plot chats ended similarly:
—All to balance factions. One too strong burdens His Majesty—we adjust.
The military guy sighed frustratedly.
“Stubborn lot. Know one side, blind to two—like wall posters. Won Guksa’s prudent, governance guru. But guarding a kid-emperor like a candle in the wind? Military reforms it is.”
Scholars sparred on. Won Seung pieced the picture.
Youngest prince somehow throned; Seong Wang’s pissed.
Reeling from the bombshell, Won Seung staggered back to the inn. He slumped at the table, lost in thought.
World kept spinning fine without me. Joo Nung emperor, Father Guksa. Mother okay?
Mother’s face brought unfilial pangs.
Return to Won Mansion or jianghu life? Undecided.
Matured Won Seung grasped his sale: homecoming spells family chaos.
Jeokhyeolsan payback first, then Won Mansion verdict.
Craved revenge on seller Joo Gunju—Father’s principal wife. Deferred till after Father’s passing.
Least tell Mother I’m alive? Losing a son—grief sickness?
Yearned to bolt now… but Jeokhyeolsan tails.
Jeokhyeolsan….
Thinking of his ankle-biters fueled rage. Spotting a passing Jeokhyeolsan assassin, Won Seung channeled fury—into kicking Jong Bi’s butt.
Thud!
“Ow! You psycho?!”