Yellow Dragon Castle (7)
Yellow Dragon Castle (7)
An overturned table.
Bottles of liquor scattered in every direction.
The shards of glass glittered, and the servants, reading the atmosphere, swept up the leftover scraps of food.
Like a wicked lord from an old folktale, Hwang Ryong-seong sat amid cold dishes and treasures, swigging straight from a bottle. Stabbed in the back by the Beggars' Sect law-enforcers and a merchant he had trusted, the Eight Trigrams Association's unity gathering—which should have been the happiest day—had turned into the most dreadful day of Hwang Ryong-seong's life.
"Heuuu...."
Hwang Ryong-seong flung the liquor bottle aside and scowled. The servant who had nearly been hit by the bottle shrank back, trembling, but Hwang Ryong-seong didn't even glance at him. Right now, the servant's well-being didn't matter to him. His ruined reputation and his future were more pressing concerns. What had Hwang Ryong-seong touted when he founded the Eight Trigrams Association?
A splendid wealthy household, a name befitting a noble young master, and the reputation of a figure who would open a new era in the martial world—wasn't that it?
But the information that had spread through the Eight Trigrams Association's unity gathering today was enough to tear down everything he had built. Good tales seep in slowly, but slander rides a thousand-ri horse and scatters its poison in all directions. It was clear that the story—that Hwang Ryong-seong was in fact Chu Du-pal, the son of the Beggars' Sect leader, and that he had been embezzling the sect's union fees to fill his own pockets—would spread in no time.
"Uaa...!"
But there was nothing Hwang Ryong-seong could do. After all, the Beggars' Sect law-enforcers who oversaw each region had witnessed the very events that gave rise to that rumor. Those bastards would, if anything, actively spread it—they would do nothing to benefit Hwang Ryong-seong.
Nothing drove a person mad like waiting for a future that foretold only misfortune. As if he were a man forewarned of his own death, Hwang Ryong-seong buried his head in a liquor bottle and guzzled liquor like a madman, turning his eyes from reality. As if by doing so, the sun wouldn't rise. As if only then a good future would come.
"Just a moment."
And then a voice came from outside the door. The moment the clear voice of a woman rang in his ears, Hwang Ryong-seong grimaced and spat out the liquor in his mouth. He knew whose voice that was. Eun Ho-seol, the woman from the North Sea Ice Palace. The woman he had married and toyed with like a plaything was, at this very moment, coming to him.
"I'm coming in."
Eun Ho-seol, accompanied by two heavily made-up women, walked in silently, bearing a tray with drinks and food. Hwang Ryong-seong scowled at the sight and, gripping his liquor bottle, asked:
"What, have you come to mock me?"
"I came to comfort you."
Seeing Eun Ho-seol say that without a single change in expression, Hwang Ryong-seong stiffened. It was an unexpected response. No matter how much he had lived like a beast, Hwang Ryong-seong was still a human at his core.
Even a son of a bitch whimpers and cries to the master who raises the whip, and even a lowly creature turns its head away from one who means harm. Yet Eun Ho-seol was using the word 'comfort' toward him—who had never treated her as a wife, let alone a human being.
"...What are you talking about? Comfort? Huh? Comfort?"
Hwang Ryong-seong couldn't help but doubt Eun Ho-seol's true intentions. He was a man who had spent his whole life deceiving others, who had lived solely with the ambition of becoming the supreme under heaven. The schemes and underhanded machinations that had entangled the path he'd walked were beyond words.
Yet she was offering comfort? After he had treated her with such contempt, like a worn-out shoe, she was offering comfort?
"....Aha, so that's it."
Hwang Ryong-seong laughed. But that laughter was by no means born of goodwill. It was anger at deception. The contempt one feels when a shabby trick is exposed was laced in his smile.
"Yeah, you finally think you can manage me now, huh? Huh? Not the prosperous Hwang Ryong-seong, but Chu Du-pal, the son of a beggar bastard! You saw this as your chance to finally stand before me and crush my pride! Huh! Did you think I wouldn't see through that cheap scheme? You stupid bitch! I can see right through you!"
Hwang Ryong-seong snarled like a beast. His eyes were bloodshot and he radiated murderous intent as if he'd pounce at any moment. The courtesans beside him were trembling, reading the room, but Eun Ho-seol didn't even flinch at his menacing presence. In a calm and dignified tone, she merely said:
"Because we are husband and wife."
A low voice, ill-matched to the situation. The unexpected words, spoken calmly, disconcerted even Hwang Ryong-seong. His hand, which had been tensed as if to claw the table, loosened, and the veins bulging in his eyes lost their fury. Eun Ho-seol was composed compared to the emotionally agitated Hwang Ryong-seong. That contrast lent her an odd persuasiveness.
"I have said that husband and wife rely on each other."
And Eun Ho-seol calmly cleared the table. As they saw her clearing the table herself, the courtesans read the room, then began removing the scattered food in front of Hwang Ryong-seong and setting out the food and drink Eun Ho-seol had brought. Watching the newly arranged snacks and drinks pile up before his eyes, Hwang Ryong-seong remained silent.
His expression looked complicated.
"This food here. It's all cold."
Eun Ho-seol pointed to the food and drink still steaming. Hwang Ryong-seong stared blankly at the liquor bottle and said:
"...I never treated you as a wife."
"Still, we are husband and wife."
Hwang Ryong-seong was bewildered by that blunt tone. Did pure goodwill without expectation of reward truly exist? Or was there some ulterior motive beneath that cold tone? Hwang Ryong-seong had never faced Eun Ho-seol with sincerity. Because of that, he couldn't tell whether the kindness Eun Ho-seol was extending now was genuine.
Even looking at her expression, it was just blunt; her tone carried only composure.
Eun Ho-seol didn't even urge him to eat. She simply, wordlessly, poured liquor into a cup the way she had at banquets. Steam rose from the warmed liquor, and the courtesans hesitantly glanced at each other.
Hwang Ryong-seong let out a sigh.
Somehow, it felt like he had been walking the wrong path. Even though he had diligently paved his way with schemes, in the end, when he fell into crisis, the one beside him was the wife he had treated so poorly. She had not changed. Even when the crowd that once praised him spat out contempt, calling him the son of a beggar, and left this house, spewing that he was unrighteous, she remained by his side.
In the end, perhaps life was like that. You don't know what's most important when it's by your side, and you live obsessed with things like money and power. And only the moment everything leaves can you look back on what was truly important.
Hwang Ryong-seong looked at Eun Ho-seol again. Then he picked up the cup she had poured and took a sip. The warm liquor tasted strongly bitter.
"...This liquor is bitter."
"I don't really know, so I just brought whatever."
Eun Ho-seol said flatly. That statement made Hwang Ryong-seong laugh. As soon as he emptied his cup, the bitter liquor filled it again. It wasn't particularly good-tasting liquor, but Hwang Ryong-seong kept accepting it.
The future was bleak, yet somehow he felt he could start again.
At least his inner energy remained, and his martial arts skill was still intact. Even in this situation, there would surely be those who followed him, and he could start again even without the Beggars' Sect's support. A martial artist, a man, was supposed to make his name resound across the world in the first place; it was strange to be hung up on things like money.
Hwang Ryong-seong collected his hazy mind and said:
"...Let's start over."
Drowsiness washed over him.
"This time, I can do well."
It seemed he had overexerted himself after all. Seeing him nodding off, Eun Ho-seol said:
"At times like this, you need to sleep. Then your head will clear."
Hwang Ryong-seong agreed with that. Doing energy circulation and fighting off the drowsiness right now didn't seem likely to produce any sharp plan. Too many things had happened. He felt he could only fall asleep after relaxing and burying his face in the pillow.
"...Tomorrow, when my head clears, I'll have to think."
Hwang Ryong-seong yawned and staggered toward the bedroom. He figured he should get a good rest right now.
And after that, everything would seem new.
Even about Eun Ho-seol, even about the world.
*****
Ppigeok ppigeok ppigeok
Hwang Ryong-seong, who had gone to bed, felt a weight bouncing along with the bed and barely managed to wake from sleep. His head ached as if he'd taken a strong drug, and his body wouldn't move easily, as if he were pinned by a sleep paralysis ghost.
"Ah-ahng~. Haah...! Ah-euk...!"
In the darkness, a moan rang out. Opening his eyes blearily, he saw a black-haired woman dancing naked. Hwang Ryong-seong couldn't comprehend the situation.
"What is this...."
Modestly pert breasts and a woman of indeterminate age he'd never seen before. She was rotating her hips with a face full of ecstasy, and a warm pleasure was spreading from his lower body. Not grasping the situation, Hwang Ryong-seong opened his eyes with a bewildered face, and belatedly realized what was happening and tried to rise.
"W-wait! S-stop...! Ah-euk...!"
But his body wouldn't move. It was as if someone had sealed his acupoints. The black-haired woman, paying no mind to Hwang Ryong-seong's movements, was busily grinding down on him, and each time, something welled up fiercely in his lower half, threatening to burst forth.
"Wh-what is this...! Ah-euk...! St-stop it...! Uh, Eun Ho-seol...! Where is Eun Ho-seol...!"
"I'm right here."
When Hwang Ryong-seong, flustered, called Eun Ho-seol's name, she was standing at the head of the bed, looking down at him with an expressionless face. Hwang Ryong-seong, his face pale, glanced back and forth between the courtesan and Eun Ho-seol.
"A-are you playing a prank...? I-I don't know...! D-don't do this...! I-I'm not... like this...! Ah-euk...!"
Hwang Ryong-seong gasped for breath. Amid the pleasure from the sexual act, he seemed to be struggling to hold back ejaculation. Eun Ho-seol ignored his words, gesturing for the courtesan to speed up. The courtesan, seeing Eun Ho-seol's gesture, beamed and began rotating her hips more violently.
"Uoooook! Oook! St-stop it! Uwaaak!"
In the face of a courtesan who had embraced men for over ten years, the patience of the virgin Hwang Ryong-seong was helpless. His body, paralyzed by the pressure point seal, convulsed to the point of seizure, and his waist bucked violently as his eyes rolled back. As if responding to that movement, the courtesan began slamming her hips against his with an even more violent, squelching rhythm.
Paang! Paang! Paang!
"Aaaak! Ah-euk! St-stop it! D-don't do this! I-if you do this...! Ah, i-if you do this...!"
Amid Hwang Ryong-seong's desperate pleas, Eun Ho-seol whispered into his ear.
"Celibate Cultivation Art."
And upon hearing those words, Hwang Ryong-seong stared at Eun Ho-seol with wide eyes. Even his desperate pleas to stop ceased; his face was a portrait of nothing but shock and terror.
"It's too late to be forgiven."
"Wha, what...!"
Hwang Ryong-seong's face flushed bright red. Before he could spit out any curses, his overly excited member, buried in the courtesan's flesh, was squeezed tightly, and the courtesan twisted her hips, swallowing him to the root. Then, with a cute moan, she reached climax.
"Ah-ahng-."
"Heok...!"
Contrary to that light, cute sound, the strength drained from Hwang Ryong-seong's lower body all at once, and a cracking sound was heard from the vicinity of his dantian. His face turned pale, the blood drained from his muscles in an instant, and he screamed with his eyes rolled back.
"Ah...! Oook...! Uooooooook! Kkuoaaaaaaaak! Uwaaaaaak!"
And like a person struck by lightning, he thrashed his limbs and his whole body convulsed, as a golden light flared brightly. At the same time the courtesan was flung off, Hwang Ryong-seong's cock shone with a golden light, spraying semen and inner energy in all directions.
Byureut! Byureut! Byureureureut!
"Uwaaaaaaak! Aaaaaaaak! Kkuaaaaaaaaak!"
Amid the desperate scream that seemed as if a person were dying, the objects in the room were flung everywhere, and the courtesan who had been tossed off barely scooped up her clothes and fled. Eun Ho-seol stayed to the end, looking down at Hwang Ryong-seong. A gaunt face, a wretched body in which not a single trace of inner energy could be felt.
Eun Ho-seol released his pressure point seal, then whispered to him:
"Beggar bastard."
"Ah...! Aah...!"
Tears welled up in Hwang Ryong-seong's eyes, but there was nothing he could do.