Chapter : 53
“How do you get along so well with Jeok-roe?”
When Yeonhwa asked, Yu Geon-myeong took out another lump of hardened sugar and handed it to Jeok-roe as he replied.
“When you moved to Daejeongbang, Jeok-roe had to be moved from the public stables—he couldn’t stay in the Namgung family’s assigned stall anymore, so he was transferred to the merchants’ section. But this guy caused a huge fuss, refusing to change his spot.”
It was the first time Yeonhwa had heard this.
“Something like that happened?”
“You were busy, so I went instead. I coaxed him into changing stalls, and after that I visited often—gave him sugar and took him on walks. He stopped throwing tantrums after a while.”
Sometimes he even showed affection like this.
Yu Geon-myeong leaned forward and lightly bumped his forehead against Jeok-roe’s.
Hihihing! Hing!
Jeok-roe swished his tail back and forth, almost as if laughing.
“Jeok-roe likes you,” Yeonhwa said.
“Not many beings dislike me,” he replied with a playful shrug.
Yeonhwa laughed.
“That’s true. Everyone likes you.”
“Does that ‘everyone’ include you?”
“…Hm.”
Yeonhwa’s eyes widened into perfect circles.
Yu Geon-myeong met her large black gaze for a moment, then let his eyes drift to the red peony ornament hanging from her earlobe.
…For now, that seemed enough.
“Let’s go in. My uncle will be waiting.”
He shifted the mood and gently led her along.
“So you’ve come.”
Inspector Mok Uk-jeong was a middle-aged man with a calm presence.
Beside him sat Chief Administrator Gu Man-jo, whose eyes were busy scanning Yu Geon-myeong from head to toe.
“Ahem.”
When Mok Uk-jeong cleared his throat in warning, Gu Man-jo finally spoke.
“A pleasure. I’m glad to meet you both.”
“Administrator Gu, you may take your leave now.”
Mok Uk-jeong gave him a look when he lingered even after greetings were done.
“But—”
“You have the task I entrusted to you.”
“…Understood.”
Gu Man-jo stood, offered Yu Geon-myeong a separate farewell, and left.
Only the three of them and Jang Bok remained to guard the rear, and Mok Uk-jeong’s voice grew more relaxed.
“So—you need someone smuggled out of Yichang, taken across the river unnoticed, and delivered to Mount Hyeongmun?”
“Yes, Uncle.”
“Uncle, hm.”
Mok Uk-jeong looked at Yu Geon-myeong and continued.
“Do you know how long Gwangrim has been waiting to see you? And yet the first message you send is a request for a favor—you have no idea how angry he was.”
“My apologies,” Yu Geon-myeong replied, not looking particularly sorry.
Still, a friend was a friend; Mok Uk-jeong soon asked after him.
“Did Gwangrim not come with you? I thought he usually accompanied you and assisted with your uncle’s assignments.”
“He’s on another mission these days. I’ll tell him to seek you out later.”
“It would be difficult for him to come to the Murim Alliance, so please have him contact me separately.”
“Hmph. Those lowly martial brutes look down on government officials and behave without restraint. Ignorant of the severity of state law, they run wild in lawlessness—and in the end, they’ll be the ones to tear down order and principle.”
Like many bureaucrats, Mok Uk-jeong disliked martial artists who killed recklessly and stirred chaos through power struggles.
There was likely resentment mixed in as well—toward Yu Geon-myeong, who had abandoned a noble position to wander the martial world, even pretending to be a lowly merchant.
Yu Geon-myeong didn’t argue.
Instead, he spoke gently to calm him.
“That’s precisely why the government and the martial world avoid crossing each other’s lines—and why martial artists live apart from ordinary people, in what’s called a world beyond the world.”
“That’s just talk. Martial artists still live on this land. Their actions affect everything around them—how can you draw a neat line and separate them? Think carefully about it. Whether you should remain in the Murim Alliance. That place isn’t the only shade you could rest under.”
“I’m satisfied where I am.”
“Why? Because you’ve found a woman to marry?”
“…That—”
Yu Geon-myeong trailed off, glancing sideways at Yeonhwa.
As if she hadn’t heard the last part, Yeonhwa said,
“I think we need to hurry.”
“Ah, right. You said it was urgent.”
Mok Uk-jeong gestured to Jang Bok, saying he’d lost track of time talking.
Jang Bok approached and received several instructions.
After nodding and withdrawing, Mok Uk-jeong stood, leading the two of them up.
“It’s been a while—my heart wouldn’t rest unless I fed you first. The meal is prepared; I won’t keep you long.”
He wasn’t as friendly with Yeonhwa as he was with Yu Geon-myeong, but he remained respectful.
Yeonhwa accepted his goodwill.
Yu Geon-myeong had asked for help, and this man had willingly extended a hand—she intended to do everything she could in return.
The meal wasn’t extravagant.
Just as one would expect from an upright official like Mok Uk-jeong, the dishes were few but neat and delicious.
Without much conversation, the three finished eating and didn’t even stay for tea.
Mok Uk-jeong led them to a pavilion in the rear garden of the Yichang office residence, then excused himself immediately, saying he had work to do.
Left alone at the pavilion, they found Gu Man-jo waiting there with another man who looked like a seasoned scout.
“This man will guide you,” Gu Man-jo said, then pressed several hidden mechanisms on the decorative table in the pavilion’s center.
Crash!
The table slid aside, revealing a secret passage.
“This isn’t a tunnel built by the state. Long ago, an official privately constructed it out of fear of a rebellion in Sichuan.”
He paused before adding,
“After that official was demoted, his successors considered filling it in, but the matter seemed too large—so it was left alone and forgotten.”
If the secret had been passed down only among Yichang’s chief administrators, it made sense.
Mok Uk-jeong had probably left earlier out of propriety—so as not to witness the method directly.
Yeonhwa looked down into the tunnel.
It was quite deep and seemed long.
According to what she’d heard, it led to a very remote exit.
The scout entered first.
Yeonhwa, now dressed in black martial robes and carrying a different sword at her waist instead of her brother’s keepsake, stepped forward—
—but Yu Geon-myeong stopped her.
“You really won’t take me with you?”
“It’s easier alone.”
“No matter how strong you are, it won’t be easy to scour Mount Hyeongmun for someone and deal with the madmen rampaging there.”
He wasn’t wrong—but Yeonhwa had no forces she could mobilize without drawing the Murim Alliance’s attention.
And increasing her numbers at Mount Hyeongmun risked exposing her movements.
“Please don’t worry.”
She knew her own strength and had chosen what she believed was best.
Still, anxiety lingered on Yu Geon-myeong’s face.
“I can prepare more guards. If I ask my uncle—”
“Geon-myeong.”
She called his name.
“Stay here and make sure no one realizes I’ve left my post. That alone will be more than enough help.”
After saying it firmly, she leapt into the secret passage before he could stop her again.
“I’ve prepared your routes and transportation. Just be careful on Mount Hyeongmun. You must come back safely!”
His voice echoed through the tunnel.
Whether she heard him or not, no one knew.
Soon even her footsteps faded, leaving only silence in the pavilion.
Clack!
The mechanism activated again, sliding the table back into place.
The secret passage vanished as if it had never existed.
“Haah…”
Pressing a hand to his forehead, Yu Geon-myeong collapsed into a chair.
“If you were that worried, you didn’t have to arrange this method in the first place,” Gu Man-jo said. Now that Yeonhwa was gone and they were alone, his tone turned immediately respectful.
Yu Geon-myeong waved a hand dismissively.
“It was what she wanted.”
“Do you truly intend to marry her?”
Yu Geon-myeong’s gaze turned cold.
“…Why do you ask? Did someone order you to investigate her?”
Startled by the sharp tone, Gu Man-jo bowed quickly.
“N-No! How could I dare pry into you and report behind your back? It’s just… the way you treat that young lady seemed unusual, so I asked.”
“That’s none of your concern.”
Yu Geon-myeong rose and walked away, leaving Gu Man-jo behind him.
Watching his back alone was enough—Gu Man-jo felt he had already received his answer.
