Chapter 45 The old man's face turned pale as he thumped his chest.
"Good grief… I never hoped to die peacefully of old age, but of all things, I had to pick up something like that—my already wretched fate…."
Ignoring the old man lamenting his lot, Yeo Il walked toward the man called the Eldest Young Master. Leaving behind the old man shouting, "You'll freeze to death, you fool!" and "At least pretend to close it up, you fool!" she stopped before him.
As Yeo Il approached, the Eldest Young Master lowered his black hat further over his face.
There was no agitation in his firmly set, sharp jaw.
If he truly was someone called Eldest Young Master, he likely spent his days surrounded by peerless beauties. A loosened baeja would not stir him to fuss—unlike the old man.
"Hey, Eldest Young Master."
"..."
"My name is Yeo Il. I've been staying with the old man for about a year."
"…Are you Gwangbyeok's disciple?"
The moment he asked, the guards around him drew their swords. Yeo Il did not even glance their way. She frowned slightly instead.
"Who is Gwangbyeok?"
A heavy silence fell.
"Hah."
Beginning with a hollow laugh, the Eldest Young Master suddenly burst into hearty laughter.
Though his tone was light and playful, a distinct chill lingered beneath it. Yet as he shook with laughter, he looked like nothing more than a bright, carefree youth.
"My lady! Are you living under someone's roof without knowing the name of the benefactor who took you in? Astonishing… You call Gwangbyeok as if summoning a household dog."
"..."
"You are not from Xinjiang, are you?"
A person of Xinjiang.
Yeo Il immediately grasped the implication.
The mention of a sect traitor as well… So, the Demonic Cult.
There were few within the Demonic Cult who could be called Eldest Young Master.
His status being higher than she expected was not the issue. The issue was that such a person personally sought out the old man. From Yeo Il's position—living beside him—that meant danger.
"Does origin matter?"
"It may matter, my lady. In this land."
"Not my concern."
"Then what is your concern?"
"If you need Gwangbyeok's head, you'll have to deal with me first."
The old man, glaring as if she were speaking nonsense, shouted,
"You brat! Stop talking nonsense and close your clothes! This isn't a place for you to meddle. Get inside!"
Had he possessed a club, he would have swung it to threaten her. But the Eldest Young Master did not dismiss her lightly.
"Do not be so harsh, Gwangbyeok. It is not common to find one who stakes her life not from blind loyalty, but simple righteousness."
"Then does the Eldest Young Master intend to spar with this child?"
"Why not? If she offers her life as the price."
He looked to Yeo Il as if asking her opinion.
What radiated from his relaxed demeanor was neither carelessness nor arrogance.
He was enjoying this unexpected turn.
A tiresome type.
Among all kinds of people, those with nothing to lose were the most dangerous.
Though they exchanged only a few words, she began to understand why the relationship between this Eldest Young Master and the elder brother he mentioned had fractured.
As if it were no jest, the guards slowly stepped back. The old man, clicking his tongue repeatedly, followed. The crude courtyard became a makeshift arena.
"Since this side is a grown man, do go easy on him, Lady Yeo Il."
"Shall I remove my clothes entirely?"
"You have an uncanny talent for deliberate misunderstanding. Or perhaps you simply enjoy provoking me."
From a man who joked so easily, she found no opening at all. He recognized immediately that Yeo Il was not ordinary.
"Name."
The man scanning her sharply tilted his head. Yeo Il spoke again.
"When sparring, both sides must state their affiliation and name. You do not know even that?"
"Ah."
As if amused even by correction, he smiled again like a boy.
"Ah, yes. I was enjoying myself so much I forgot courtesy. I am—"
How naive.
The instant he began to answer, Yeo Il's sword surged forward like the wind.
That was Yeo Il's first meeting with Jin Cheong-ak, the Eldest Young Master of the Demonic Cult.
Yeo Il regained consciousness at midnight, a day and a half after being struck by the extreme poison Hongyu.
Changa, who had dozed beside her, startled awake at the slightest movement and burst into tears.
"Waaah! I thought you were going to die, Miss! I thought I'd have to clean up your corpse!"
Recovering in such a short span must have been grueling. Though Changa clearly wiped her down periodically, Yeo Il's body was drenched in cold sweat.
After swallowing water several times, she cleared her raw throat and replied briefly,
"I'm fine."
"Please stop doing such dangerous things! You keep saying nothing could go wrong, but from where I stand, it looks like you could become a corpse with one misstep! Of course, how could someone as ordinary as me understand your grand ambitions… but still… waaah—."
Seol-yeong entered after patrolling nearby. Seeing Yeo Il awake, she openly displayed her displeasure.
"You might as well have died of poison. There are at least two people here who would've mourned you."
"To deceive the enemy, one must deceive allies as well."
"Ah, whatever. I don't care. I won't follow your orders for a while, so remember that. If you don't like it, feed me poison."
Yeo Il patted Seol-yeong's sulking head and asked casually,
"Jin Cheong-ak?"
"How would I know? He left you in our care yesterday and hasn't shown himself since. That's just how Brother Jin is."
Given the circumstances, she expected his return to take longer. Yet Jin Cheong-ak appeared late the following night.
Without a word about where he had been or what he had done while she slept, he spoke as if nothing happened.
"I told you, Namgung Young Lady. You must be immune to all poisons, so there was no need for an antidote."
He never said that.
It's true I've developed resistance to most poisons, but I'm not immune to all. Without the antidote, I would have lain ill at least eight days before waking.
Yeo Il did not reveal the truth. It could become a fatal weakness against Jin Cheong-ak one day.
"What of Namgung Chu-myeong?"
"Well… there was a pursuit for about one gakh. He committed suicide upon capture, so it seems there was little to gain."
He jerked his chin outward.
"They stripped off the human skin mask and hung it at the main gate. Apparently, they declared—staking Namgung's pride—that they will capture the culprit without fail. All of Anhui Province is in uproar."
"That is only natural. Who would dare commit such an audacious act against a prestigious clan—against Namgung of all places? People must be curious about the culprit's identity."
"And the Namgung Assembly?"
This time Seol-yeong answered.
"That dissolved early. Instead, one might say the guests are being detained… Their departure is delayed under the pretext of investigating your poisoning and other incidents."
"..."
"Because the matter is so serious, everyone's behaving. The Sogaju (Clan Heir) also made a brutal display of the fake's corpse."
So that explained the unnecessary presences she sensed—relatives who attended the Namgung Assembly remained within the estate.
For now, Yeo Il focused on restoring her body to peak condition.
Keeping her awakening secret within the clan, she devoted herself to qi regulation and internal circulation, with Jin Cheong-ak at her side.
Daytime, however, was troublesome.
"…Still not awake?"
"Yes, Young Master."
"No sign of her waking?"
"Yes, Young Master."
Namgung Hui-myeong came every single day and stayed at least one sikgyeong each time.
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