Chapter 34
A few days later.
Namgung Heemyung came to see Yeoil with an unexpected matter.
“Lunch, three days from now?”
At Yeoil’s question, the third brother—whose face had noticeably thinned compared to a few days ago—nodded.
“Yeah. All relatives will be there except for the head of the clan, so you’d better attend too.”
The Namgung Gathering.
Once a year, all relatives from across the country gathered here at the Namgung Clan in Anhui Province.
Especially with the Martial Alliance Tournament just around the corner, even more relatives than usual would be coming. Yeoil had heard of it through Changa a few days ago—but she hadn’t expected even Namgung Soyo to be invited.
“It must be an important event…”
Before she could finish, Namgung Heemyung cut her off.
“Important? Sure, you could say that. Hey, I’d tell you to rest if I could, but everyone’s asking for you. They want you there for your sake.”
After gulping down the tea Changa had served like it was cold water, Namgung Heemyung continued, almost defensively,
“You only really know us brothers and Uncle in this clan, right? Everyone knows your throat’s injured, so if someone talks to you, just nod or shake your head. That’ll be enough.”
“How many guests will there be?”
“Guests? Not too many. About thirty? Anyway, don’t worry too much—I’ll filter out any nonsense that comes your way.”
“So you’re saying nonsense will come my way…”
Namgung Heemyung once again cut off her words.
“With thirty people gathered, you think no one will say something stupid? And don’t bother giving me long answers either. Just string a few words together—didn’t the doctor tell you to save your voice?”
She had wondered why he was in such a hurry to interrupt, but now she realized—it was out of concern for her health.
In truth, it was just a wound that could heal in a day, but thanks to Namgung Chumyung’s visit that morning, she had ended up with a third injury.
‘Should I make another wound before the clan gathering?’
When Yeoil nodded in agreement, Namgung Heemyung’s expression relaxed noticeably.
Thinking of Jin Cheongak, who had been harassed by Namgung Heemyung earlier that morning, she changed the subject.
“The preparations for the Martial Alliance Tournament…”
“Hey, don’t worry about that. My brother and I are handling it just fine.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Hmph! Not ‘a relief’—it’s only natural! Tell those idiots gossiping about us to just wait and see. Brother Jeokmyeong will crush every one of their noses!”
Namgung Jeokmyeong had returned to the clan not long ago and had been keeping a low profile, but he had not once come to see Yeoil.
The clan wasn’t so large that they couldn’t cross paths with just a few minutes’ walk, yet Yeoil hadn’t gone to him either.
By now, she could guess his reason for keeping his distance.
‘Training.’
Balancing rewards and restraint—using both the carrot and the stick—was an effective way to establish dominance in any relationship. It was a bothersome trick, but Yeoil didn’t care.
Because it was about time.
“That damn crow won’t stop crying. It’s driving me crazy.”
After Namgung Heemyung clicked his tongue and left for Dongcheong Hall—
“Seol-young.”
At the short call, Seol-young, who had been standing outside, quickly entered. Yeoil looked toward the window and whispered,
“Time. Go.”
“…You mean, like, ‘get lost’?”
“Do you think that’s what I meant?” She shook her head and added one short word.
“Hangryongmun.” (The Dragon-Subduing Sect.)
“…Ah! Understood. I’ll be right back.”
Barely an ildagyeong (about fifteen minutes) later, the sound of crows outside abruptly stopped.
The crows were one of Hangryongmun’s many communication methods. They had been signaling Yeoil constantly—probably because the time to relay information had come—and now it seemed Seol-young had successfully made contact.
Meanwhile, Changa arrived and began to report the intelligence she’d gathered from the servants of the clan.
“I didn’t even have to pry—everyone was quick to tell me which people we should ‘watch out for.’ Guess they’re scared they’ll get blamed if anything happens?”
“Excellent.”
“Excellent? Why, thank you, my lady!”
She had just left the room, promising to gather even more useful information—yet not even a few minutes passed before Changa burst back in, pale-faced and out of breath.
“M-my lady! Something terrible’s happened! I think something’s wrong with Lady Seol-young!”
“Wrong?”
“L-Lord Namgung Chumyung! He’s dragging her into the manor like she’s some kind of criminal! They’ll be here any moment!”
A criminal, she said.
As Yeoil calmly pieced together the situation, she roused Jin Cheongak, who had been dozing in his chair.
He scratched his head, blinking blankly.
“…Huh?”
“Get up.”
“Huh?”
“Go outside and stand by nearby.”
“Huh?”
She shoved the bewildered man toward the window and quickly lay down on the bed.
Moments later, multiple footsteps echoed down the corridor and stopped in front of the sliding doors.
“M-my lady…”
Changa gripped Yeoil’s hand tightly, trembling with fear, just as the door burst open.
Appearing at the entrance were the fake Namgung Chumyung and Namgung Pae.
Namgung Chumyung strode in urgently, stopping at the bedside, and asked carefully,
“Are you all right, Soyo? I heard you coughed up blood again today. Forgive me for coming despite that, but there’s something urgent you must know.”
“What is it?”
His guards, standing beside him, had Seol-young’s wrists bound as they stepped forward.
“This servant—she’s the one you brought with you, yes?”
Yeoil nodded, imagining Seol-young’s indignant, wronged expression.
“Hmm… I see. Earlier, I witnessed her in the marketplace, dealing with a rather suspicious individual.”
“…”
“Did you order her to do that?”
His voice was low and shadowed.
Yeoil had assumed he’d planted spies to watch not only her but also Changa and Seol-young… but she hadn’t expected them to catch her during contact with Hangryongmun. Their communication was supposed to be nearly invisible—just a passing exchange.
In other words—
‘He saw the crow and followed her right away.’
Hangryongmun wouldn’t have leaked the meeting, so this fake Namgung Chumyung must have been working with them for a long time.
Feigning a headache, Yeoil covered her face with a hand, observing Namgung Pae’s silent presence behind Chumyung, then shook her head.
At that, Namgung Chumyung’s expression hardened, and he looked sternly toward Seol-young.
But then—
“Brother Chumyung! What’s all this commotion about?”
The hallway erupted again as Namgung Jeokmyeong and Namgung Heemyung arrived right behind them.
Seeing Seol-young bound, Namgung Heemyung looked at Yeoil in shock, then turned angrily toward Chumyung.
“What is this nonsense? Bringing four armed warriors into a sick girl’s room?”
“Namgung Heemyung. There’s good reason for this. Lower your voice.”
Namgung Chumyung restrained him, then turned and bowed slightly toward the Soga-ju—the young clan head.
“Well, this is rare. You’re home so early today, Brother.”
There was a sharp undertone beneath his polite greeting.
Namgung Jeokmyeong, who had appeared for the first time in a while, looked composed and healthy as ever—his face calm, his manner unbothered.
When he gazed at Chumyung, his eyes were those of a dependable elder brother regarding a trusted younger one. There was no hint of change or hostility in his demeanor.
“Haha. Well, with the tournament so near, how could I not be here to help my brother train? But really, what’s all this chaos, Chumyung? Didn’t you frighten Soyo?”
But Yeoil alone could sense it—
The subtle disgust and anger hidden beneath his smooth, unhurried voice.
