Chapter 18
In the mountains near Hubei Province.
"Huff, huff..."
After taking a couple of ragged breaths, a martial artist shot up between the trees. He jumped out of the bushes with impressive qinggong, moving incredibly fast.
'Shit! They're already on my tail!'
I slowed down for just a second, and the person chasing me closed the gap instantly. At this rate, they're going to catch me any minute now.
Maybe it was because I remembered how frightening this person was. I considered just handing over the treasure and begging him to let me live.
'...No, damn it.'
The martial artist shook his head and clutched at his chest, where he'd stashed the item, trying to get a better grip.
'Even for my fellow disciples who died in vain, I can't give this up...no way!'
I have to survive and get this to the Mount Hua Sect, no matter what. And tell them that some unknown shadow is after them.
The carriage went through a packed marketplace and stopped at a decent-sized inn. When Yeo-il entered the inn, with Chang-ah assisting her, the noisy place went completely silent, as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on everyone.
"We'll take a table in the back, please."
"Certainly."
Seol-yeong surveyed the place, sat down in a relatively quiet spot, and immediately, a young waiter approached. The waiter gave Yeo-il a curious look before asking, very carefully,
"Just here to eat?"
"Yes. Okay, so...four noodle soups, Kung Pao chicken, and Dongpo pork. One of the soups should be a small portion, and bring out the Kung Pao and Dongpo pork first."
"Got it. And no alcohol, right?"
"No."
Soon after the waiter left, two men came up to the table.
"Uh, hey, buddy. I think you dropped something."
One of them held out a veil, clearly talking nonsense. Seol-yeong, looking like he'd been through this a million times, just waved his hand, tiredly.
"It's not hers, so get lost."
"What? I was talking to this guy, and some other dude is answering."
Ignoring Seol-yeong, the two men, as if they did this all the time, sat down at the table and leaned in very close to Yeo-il.
"So, I haven't seen you around... Where are you from? Hubei? Henan? Anhui?"
Chang-ah frowned and grabbed Yeo-il's arm tightly, glaring at them, but the jerks didn't budge.
"Haha, check this guy out. I've been running things in Hubei for years! You must be from Henan or Anhui."
The two men's loud laughter echoed around the quiet inn.
"Here's the deal, the noodles and pork here suck. Just grab a bite and then head over to the bigger Punghwa Inn. Their pork is amazing. We'll pay..."
It was then.
Thunk!
A long scabbard slammed down in the middle of the table, standing upright.
Everyone jumped, startled, and a rough voice landed on the discarded veil.
"What the hell do you want with my sister, you punks?"
That ice-cold voice made the already quiet inn feel even colder.
"If you have something to say, spit it out over here. What was that? Do you want your mouths sliced off? Or do you not care if you die?"
Then, the man flicked his thumb, showing off the blade slightly, and the two men, who had been acting tough just a second ago, went pale and stood up.
"W-we were out of line."
"E-enjoy your food."
After those two left, the man who took their place was the sword's owner, Namgung Hui-myeong, the Namgung family's third son, who was supposed to meet them around here.
"Tsk. Idiots who can't keep it in their pants."
Yeo-il knew he was a hothead, but she didn't think he'd be like this outside the family.
Yeo-il chuckled softly and, in a voice so low no one else could hear, expressed her concern for Namgung Hui-myeong.
"Is it okay for a Namgung big shot to act like that, just because of me?"
"Hmph! Who cares? Those losers have no idea who I am."
That made sense, since Namgung Hui-myeong, who was checking himself out, pretending to smooth his forehead, was dressed in simple travel clothes, not the fancy attire he wore around the Namgung family.
His somewhat mean look and rough way of talking went together perfectly, making him look like a total street punk, even though he was young. But you could still tell he was from a wealthy family.
"Hui-myeong."
"What is it?"
"Have you been having a rough time lately? You sound a bit off."
"...You're like a damn mind reader."
Right on cue, the food arrived.
Namgung Hui-myeong shoved a plate toward Yeo-il and continued talking, sounding annoyed.
"I haven't had a decent night's sleep since I got here. I have to stay on my toes because I don't know when some asshole is going to jump me."
"What happened?"
"The first day out, we left Anhui with a maid dressed up like you. It was my oldest brother's plan, because he was worried about you."
Namgung Hui-myeong sighed and gave a hard stare.
"And then, starting that first night, assassins came after us every damn night, like they were waiting! How the hell did you even make it back to Anhui?"
Namgung Jeok-myeong was worried about her? Yeah, right.
Seol-yeong snorted and grabbed some meat. His expression clearly said, 'I'm not buying this crap.'
However, Yeo-il's thoughts were slightly different.
'That guy might use a maid as a decoy, pretending to worry about me. But he wouldn't try to kill the third son.'
Namgung Jeok-myeong seemed to genuinely care about Namgung Hui-myeong. But sending assassins right away? That didn't make any sense.
"I got lucky. If some wandering hero hadn't helped me, I wouldn't be here either..."
"Don't say that crap."
Despite the curt reply, Yeo-il didn't forget to express her gratitude.
"Thank you for letting me know, Hui-myeong."
"If you're so grateful, drop the 'Hui-myeong-nim' crap."
"I really am grateful. Usually...people try to hide this stuff from me. Probably because I'm weak and blind."
"Maybe. But I hate that kind of thing."
"..."
"Keeping secrets and babying me just because I'm the youngest. I hate that shit. So don't expect me to treat you like some delicate flower. A Namgung has to be tough."
Maybe Namgung Hui-myeong had been babied too much. Fine by Yeo-il; it made things easier.
"But it's weird. I had assassins after me on the way here, too."
Namgung Hui-myeong's face went cold. He slammed his hands on the table and jumped up.
Wham!
"Wait...you're saying assassins were after you, too?"
He checked his surroundings, then downed half a bowl of noodles incredibly fast, and jerked his head toward the door.
"Let's take this outside."
Namgung Hui-myeong paid and bolted out of the inn. Then, a minute later, he turned around, looking like he'd forgotten something.
"Oh, right. The food."
That spaced-out moment was so characteristic of the third son.
"Thanks, but I'm good. Don't worry about it."
She even added a little cough, and Namgung Hui-myeong shook his head, looking annoyed.
"You call that eating? No wonder you're so weak."
Seol-yeong, standing right next to Yeo-il, whispered, "This guy's a real piece of work."
He left the inn, casually placing Yeo-il's hand on his arm, and walked right past their carriage. He probably wanted to take a different one.
His hand was ice-cold.
"Only me, my two brothers, and our uncle know you're gone. Everyone else thinks you're sick in bed. Which means...one of our family sent those assassins after you."
Yeo-il's jaw dropped.
'He knows?'
That was a shock. She figured Namgung Hui-myeong didn't care about family matters and was just into martial arts.
But he was way more clued in than she thought.
As if he had read her mind, Namgung Hui-myeong added, sounding a little bitter.
"You probably don't want to believe it. But hey, reality bites. Remember that."
"...I didn't think you'd be so cold about it, Hui-myeong."
"Hey, why are you surprised about that? Shouldn't you be freaked out that your own family's trying to kill you? I mean, yeah, some people think I'm just a dumb swordsman."
"But it's family."
"Family? So what?"
"...You don't usually think they'd do something that awful to their own flesh and blood."
It took him a while to answer.
"You only say that because you don't know what our family's been like the last few years."
She couldn't ask 'how,' though.
Someone was tailing them.
