Chapter 41
Chapter Eight. The Flightless Bird of Bibangbaek (飞放泊)
South of the capital road, in Namwon, there was the emperor’s hunting ground called Bibangbaek (飞放泊). If one hurried, it could be reached in about three sijin; even at the latest, four sijin.
No matter how long it lasted, the hunting festival always ended within half a month.
In other words, it was not far away, and it was not a place where one would be gone for long.
Yet despite that, Moyong Biyeon’s tone and posture were far too solemn. It felt like she was giving final training before sending someone off to a battlefield.
“Are we fighting bare-handed today?” I asked.
“You are bare-handed,” she replied.
I stared at Moyong Biyeon in disbelief.
So she was saying she would use a sword, while I had to endure with my bare hands? Even if we both fought bare-handed, I would still lose miserably.
“W-What do you mean by that, Your Highness?”
“Today is half a sijin.”
Half a sijin? I felt like I wouldn’t even last one gak.
“Even a rat will bite a cat when cornered. Try biting with everything you’ve got.”
The starting stance Moyong Biyeon slowly unfolded looked terrifying.
“I’ll give you the first three moves.”
Wow. Such confidence. How generous of you.
When I took the preparatory stance of Baekbi Jaeyeon (White Ferret Lurking in the Deep) from the Yaho Fist, the corner of Moyong Biyeon’s lips lifted.
It was a technique that demanded speed—like a wildcat leaping to catch a duck on water. You had to close the distance in an instant, strike a vital point, and retreat immediately.
It was also the movement Moyong Biyeon had drilled into me the most out of all my techniques. Which meant she could counter it even with her eyes closed.
“I’m coming.”
The reason I chose this obviously ineffective technique as my opening move was—
I lowered my center of balance, pretended to spring forward, then suddenly kicked off a nearby tree and fled along it.
“Hah. Honestly.”
I heard Moyong Biyeon click her tongue behind me. It seemed she hadn’t expected me to run so shamelessly.
But really—who charges bare-handed at someone holding a sword?
By the second gak of fleeing through the trees, Moyong Biyeon’s sword had grown noticeably faster.
Her emotionless eyes and killing intent-filled blade were truly coming for my throat now. This was nothing like the earlier attacks that had only grazed my skin.
For the first time, I felt a genuine fear that I might die right here.
“Ugh…!”
“Will you die like this?”
What could I even do in this situation? My escape route was blocked, and I couldn’t think of any way to stop a sword with bare hands.
My fingertips grew cold. But it wasn’t just the feeling of blood cooling. It was the same sensation I had felt in the cave in Shenyang, when I faced an assassin.
Back then too, along with that cold sensation—
“Oh?”
White threads rapidly coiled up my wrist and took shape.
It was a wrist-mounted crossbow I had used once before. At this close range, it was a decent weapon.
But… how was I supposed to fire the hidden mechanism? There was some kind of locking structure—if I pressed that, would something come out?
Even back then, I hadn’t seen the shape of the arrow. So what was it that killed that man?
Damn it. I don’t even properly know the things I carry.
At some point, Moyong Biyeon had lowered her sword and was just staring at me. As if telling me to shoot if I dared.
If I fired while she stayed still, could she dodge it? It was a formless arrow. What if she couldn’t avoid it and died?
More than that—was it even okay for her to find out about Baekmang?
“Idiot.”
The complicated thoughts in my head came to a complete stop. Holding her sword in a reverse grip, Moyong Biyeon raised her hand high.
Before I could even finish thinking no way—
The sword pommel came crashing down onto my head.
“Hey, you—!”
You can’t just knock people unconscious like that!
My back felt as cold as if I were lying on ice. It was cold enough to cause pain, yet my body accepted the temperature as if it were familiar.
Tap. Something was tapping my pressure point, waking me up.
When I opened my eyes, I saw Moyong Biyeon looking down at me against the backdrop of the night sky.
“You’re carrying something interesting.”
“I won’t give it to you.”
“Hmph. Who asked?”
Whew, thank goodness. I was afraid she’d say something like I’ll take it even if I have to cut off your wrist.
“Giving a treasured weapon to a child… no, a child at least would swing it around without thinking. But you—you don’t even know how to use what’s in your own hand.”
“I didn’t shoot because I was afraid you’d die.”
“Do you think you’re in a position to show such cheap mercy? Even if you risk your life, you couldn’t touch me with a fingertip.”
That was true. If it had been an ordinary crossbow, I would’ve fired. She would’ve dodged anyway.
“Or is it that—”
Feeling like I was being scolded, I turned my head sharply while still lying down.
Huh? Why is the grass white?
“You’re not afraid of hurting people, are you?”
“Are there people who enjoy harming others?”
“There are. Plenty. Not just in the unorthodox sects—there are quite a few even among those who call themselves righteous.”
“Even if I die, I don’t want to become someone like that.”
All life fears death and violence. Just as I do, so do others. One should not deliberately take life, nor allow life to be taken.
For the first time in a while, I recalled one of the Buddha’s teachings the monk had once told me.
“With that attitude, you won’t survive long. The palace might be relatively safe for you. But with such a weak heart, you could die even in Bibangbaek.”
“Are you planning to release rogue martial artists instead of beasts in the hunting grounds?”
I didn’t like the hunting festival itself to begin with. What was the point of killing animals?
It wasn’t for survival or food—just to take lives for momentary amusement?
The white grass slowly returned to its original color as droplets of water fell. Had it frozen because of me?
Suddenly, a strong hand clamped around my chin. Moyong Biyeon’s sharply shining eyes bored into me.
“Bibangbaek is not merely a place for amusement. Do you think only beasts have their lives toyed with there?”
Her words felt like someone striking my head.
Why had Jin Su-o been so worried on the day of the hunting festival, warning me again and again?
Wang A-seon had even broken her own leg just to avoid participating.
Thinking about it, there was no better place than the hunting festival to cover up accidents. If something happened, it could all be blamed on beasts or the environment.
“Remember this. You are weaker than the ferocious beasts released there.”
Moyong Biyeon’s voice now sounded solemn.
“And being weak means you can die easily.”
It didn’t sound like a simple threat. Nor did it feel like vague worry, the way Wang A-seon’s concern had.
It felt like a premonition—like something terrible truly could happen.
Perhaps it was a warning sent by instinct itself.
“I need to hurry.”
Cho Jin-roe looked up at the sky and narrowed one eye. The investigation had taken longer than expected.
Nothing should have happened to Seolmae Palace in the meantime, but if security had been neglected, the emperor would surely scold him.
“It would be simpler if His Majesty just summoned her to stay by his side every day.”
But that would cause its own problems. When the emperor had spoken of taking the princess of Garin, a vassal state, as a concubine, the court had been thrown into chaos.
On days when opposition memorials flooded in, the emperor would rage in his quarters. Just recalling those days made Cho Jin-roe feel tired.
To arrive at Seolmae Palace as quickly as possible, he even used light-footwork.
Upon entering the inner palace, he returned to an ordinary pace and took the shortcut from the back gate toward Seolmae Palace.
Just as he stepped forward, intending to circle around the outside, he sensed someone hiding their presence. The energy was moving toward Seolmae Palace.
“An assassin?”
Cho Jin-roe immediately concealed his own presence and slipped into the shadows. The suspicious person was approaching the wall where he was hiding. The speed was not very fast.
The slowness didn’t suit an assassin. Frowning, Cho Jin-roe waited silently by the wall, then lunged out and grabbed the intruder when they came close.
“Mm-gh!”
Cho Jin-roe quickly covered the person’s mouth as they tried to scream. Since it was supposedly an assassin, he hadn’t expected such a reaction and felt momentarily flustered.
When he saw the person’s face, confusion followed.
“Why are you outside at this hour?”
The assassin—no, Shin Wan—answered with a pale face.
“…A night stroll?”
Cho Jin-roe frowned deeply. His hardened expression made Shin Wan shrink back.
“You expect me to believe that, looking like this?”
“Hmm… does black clothing really make me look that suspicious?”
Shin Wan awkwardly brushed her arm. Cho Jin-roe grabbed that exact arm—the one with a wound—and said flatly,
“The problem isn’t the color of your clothes. There’s a smell of blood coming from your body.”
