Chapter 39
Yeong-hwang-yuse, who inherited Salmak’s will.
Because Seol Seorin had told her about it, it wasn’t especially surprising.
“If so—Brother, why did you sometimes send guests to my room around sunset?”
Although she couldn’t see ahead, Namgung Jeokmyeong seemed a little embarrassed.
“…I wondered how long you’d keep letting assassins go. Their movements were often different from what I expected, and that confused me.”
Thanks to that, Ye-il learned why Namgung Jeokmyeong was so sure she was blind: the killers he’d sent had never once seen Ye-il’s face properly before losing consciousness.
“If you’d kept behaving quietly, Brother would probably still be sending guests to my room all the time.”
Namgung Jeokmyeong gave a bitter laugh at her words.
“I can’t help it. I don’t want to regret a wrong decision, Soyo. I only want to protect as many family and dependents as I can.”
“Is family that important? Even if it means dragging down your own achievements and reputation?”
“Then you’re saying it isn’t important? What could be more important than those we share affection with?”
“…”
“Those names — Changpae Saryong, Cheonggeom Ilseom… what great things are they, really? Because I discarded them without hesitation I could tell who was cooperating with that fake and who wasn’t. I could even take on worse shame.”
“Then we just need to unmask the problem: Namgung Chumyeong’s mask.”
Expecting an immediate agreement, Ye-il was surprised when Namgung Jeokmyeong didn’t answer right away.
She couldn’t understand.
“You don’t mean you’ll stall even though you have solid proof, do you?”
“…The Yeong-hwang-yuse who infiltrated the Namgung household isn’t only that fake.”
“I remember you saying you’d found that collaborator, too.”
“I found him, but there isn’t enough to link the two. Even if we strip the fake’s mask and reveal him completely, only the fake disappears. The fake’s collaborator will shut up as if they had nothing to do with it and keep meddling in the Namgung house like now. He never wore a mask himself, so there’s no way to drive him out.”
Judging from Namgung Jeokmyeong’s cautious tone, this collaborator must have considerable influence in the clan.
Jin Cheong-ak, who’d been quietly observing their talk, cut in with an exasperated expression.
“So who’s the collaborator then? A Namgung family member?”
“I can’t say yet. Please wait a bit longer.”
“A Namgung, huh. To think the clan head’s own younger brother would conspire with assassins—ha. No wonder this family’s a mess.”
Namgung Jeokmyeong’s gaze at Jin Cheong-ak briefly sharpened, but that was it. He swallowed a sigh and, visibly tired, made one request to Ye-il.
“I know it’s frustrating. But after the Murim League duel tournament we plan to flush them out properly, so please wait a little longer. I ask this of you, Soyo.”
Namgung Jeokmyeong looked gravely at Ye-il, who didn’t answer. He opened his mouth as if to say more, glanced at Jin Cheong-ak, and then closed it.
“…Soyo’s leg isn’t whole. Please see her safely to her room.”
With those words he left.
Jin Cheong-ak watched him go for a moment, then pulled his arm from Ye-il’s shoulder and snorted.
“A mouse thinking about a cat.”
Wait until the duel tournament was over—he wanted her to wait.
‘Too late.’
Namgung Chumyeong was already moving.
The moment the Namgung brothers left for the tournament, the Namgung house might face tragedy. That wasn’t the future Ye-il wanted.
“What are you brooding about so intently, Namgung little gentleman?”
Ugh. With a light movement Jin Cheong-ak lifted Ye-il into his arms and held her, meeting her eyes.
“Do you like Namgung Jeokmyeong? He is someone who could please you. He follows propriety, is righteous, knows duty… even if he’s swept off balance by the current and falls, he gets up again and walks his path. Things you yourself don’t have, aren’t they?”
Ye-il disliked how Jin Cheong-ak pretended to know her.
What was more nauseating was that, regarding Ye-il, Jin Cheong-ak wasn’t entirely wrong.
“As you say, he’s a useful man.”
Perhaps irritated by that calm approval, Jin Cheong-ak raised an eyebrow.
“…Is that so?”
“He’s useful and easy to handle. Unlike some people.”
“Ha ha.”
He shook his head and said in a theatrical tone, as if reciting poetry,
“Unlike Namgung Jeokmyeong, some people are neither righteous nor dutiful, selfish and of no use to us. When will our Namgung little gentleman throw them away coldly?”
Normally she would have ignored such nonsense.
“Not long from now.”
Some days small things sway one’s heart. Ye-il blinked quietly and murmured as if to herself,
“When all attachments are gone.”
Attachments.
Yes. Ye-il was searching for the kill list to rid herself of that attachment.
If she could confirm whether the name on that list—after fulfilling the old man’s wish—was alive or dead, then she could stop… if only that.
A heavy silence lingered for a moment.
Then, as if nothing had changed, Jin Cheong-ak laughed cheerfully and shoved his face right into hers, close enough that their noses almost touched.
“I see. Then get rid of that attachment quickly, Ye-il. I want to be free from you as soon as possible… ugh.”
He staggered on, as if Ye-il would bite his chin off. After digging his nails into her jaw for a moment, Ye-il remembered the conversation she’d just had with Namgung Jeokmyeong.
‘His caution might once have helped make careful plans, but not now. It’s just complacent carelessness.’
Namgung Chumyeong’s mask was nearly worn through.
‘What if I am the fake?’
Before he left for a long time to have his mask repaired, she would take out Namgung Jeokmyeong.
Then the place he’d return to would be secure.
‘I’d prefer he’d wait quietly if possible.’
Still, that was inefficient.
Ye-il didn’t want to waste any more time.
Above all, if the other party truly carried on Salmak’s will… she could act in Salmak’s way too, couldn’t she?
