Chapter 135
My eyes widened on their own. I blinked blankly for a moment, then asked carefully.
“Taoist Jinseong? Does that mean...?”
“I know nothing, Young Lady. It would be best for you to discuss this matter with Master Beopgong.”
Jinseong declined to say more. After giving us a small bow, he walked away.
I exchanged a glance with Yeon Ryang, my mouth opening and closing soundlessly.
“Did I understand that right? What Taoist Jinseong said... he means he’ll turn a blind eye to your situation, doesn’t he?”
“...Yeah. I think so.”
Yeon Ryang looked just as confused as I was. The two of us stood there for quite a while with utterly bewildered expressions.
*****
I had no idea what conversation had taken place between Master Beopgong and Jinseong.
Still, seeing Beopgong’s perfectly untroubled face put me at ease.
At least it did not seem like things would get any worse.
Jinseong himself would not expose Yeon Ryang’s identity. With a little luck, it seemed we might be able to leave the Martial Alliance safely.
At the outskirts of Wuhan, we prepared to enter the Martial Alliance main headquarters.
Yeon Ryang and Jinseong did not exchange a word, but I could see them both making an effort not to provoke the other.
Everyone was tense, yet Beopgong alone seemed cheerful enough to hum.
“Hey. Move your arms farther behind your back.”
“Easy. Tie it more gently. It hurts.”
“Quit whining. Do you think loosely tying you up will fool anyone? It needs to look real.”
Snickering, Beopgong bound Yeon Ryang tightly with the Flood Dragon Rope. His face was full of delight.
“Ha! This is fun.”
“...Are you insane? Is tying someone up really that much fun?”
“When else would I get the chance to tie you up?”
“I’m the idiot for ever trusting a fake monk like you...”
Yeon Ryang lowered his head, his face full of self-loathing.
After giving the two of them an exasperated look, I held out my wrists to Jinseong.
Jinseong looked down at me with obvious reluctance before pulling a Flood Dragon Rope from inside his robes.
Frowning deeply, he carefully gathered my wrists and tied them together.
His hands were so awkward that the knot came loose the instant I put a little strength into it.
“Taoist. It came undone.”
“...I will tie it again.”
Jinseong answered calmly as he picked up the Flood Dragon Rope from the ground.
After hesitating °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° for a moment, he tied one end of the rope around his left hand and the other around my right, linking us together.
“Will this do?”
This looked less like binding a criminal and more like a leash meant to keep a child from getting lost.
The arrangement was strange, but Jinseong looked as though he truly did not want to bind me, so I did not have the heart to comment. I simply nodded.
“If that makes you more comfortable, Taoist.”
“Yes. It does.”
Jinseong let a long length of rope hang between us.
Clicking my tongue, I turned and saw Beopgong holding a medicine bottle to Yeon Ryang’s lips.
“Hey. Take it.”
“What is it?”
“The stuff they use during Martial Alliance interrogations. The kid knows what it is, right? The Tang Clan makes it.”
“Is that Ten-Thousand-Soul Ruin?”
“That’s right. He has to finish the whole bottle if he wants to hide even his demonic qi. He’ll be no better than an ordinary person for about fifteen days, but he has to put up with that much.”
Yeon Ryang’s expression grew complicated as he stared at the bottle packed full of powder.
“So I had to swallow poison after all...”
“Just take it, Brother. I’ll make you antidote pills later.”
“That brings tears to my eyes.”
Yeon Ryang smiled weakly, squeezed his eyes shut, and opened his mouth. Beopgong dumped the poison powder into him with such brutal disregard that I was dumbfounded, but it was too late to stop him.
Who uses Dissolving-Power Poison like that? I was going to lose my mind.
“Your throat will get clogged. Brother, drink some water.”
I pulled out my water flask and held it to Yeon Ryang’s mouth while he coughed.
By the time we stepped into the Martial Alliance main headquarters, it was late at night.
It seemed the two of them had deliberately avoided the hours when people were out in force, because the grounds were quiet.
Even so, guards stood watch before every hall, and braziers had been set out everywhere, making the place as bright as day.
“Watch your mouth from here on out. Don’t say a word.”
Beopgong gave the warning curtly and led the way, gripping the rope that bound Yeon Ryang’s hands.
He stopped before a hall that was noticeably darker than the others.
Demon-Slaying Division.
The faded plaque hanging above the hall gave it an ominous air. Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought I could smell blood.
“Master Beopgong.”
Recognizing him, the guard pressed his palms together in greeting. Beopgong returned the salute politely and stated his business.
“I sent word to Division Leader Ak in advance. I have brought the people who are to be questioned.”
“Yes. You may enter.”
The guard nodded lightly and opened the door.
My unease must have shown, because Jinseong edged closer to me.
“Nothing will happen.”
His whisper snapped me back to myself. I had done nothing wrong. I could not let myself look cowed.
I straightened my back and hardened my gaze. Jinseong’s expression eased when he saw the change in me.
“Taoist Jinseong.”
“Yes.”
Beopgong, unusually formal, addressed Jinseong with respect. Jinseong nodded, then led me inside.
Beopgong and Yeon Ryang did not follow. It seemed they were moving separately.
The hall was empty aside from basic furnishings.
After passing through the reception room, Jinseong entered a smaller chamber, opened a wall cabinet, and pressed something inside.
CREEEAK! CLANG!
The wall moved aside, revealing a narrow door.
It led down into a basement.
A chilly wind seeped through the open gap.
The entrance looked so ominous that it felt as though anyone who went in would never come back out. My heart pounded heavily.
I took a slow breath and looked at Jinseong. He untied the Flood Dragon Rope linking our wrists, then drew out a black cloth with an apologetic expression.
“The structure of the interrogation room cannot be exposed to outsiders... Please excuse me for a moment, Young Lady.”
“Yes.”
Jinseong bent forward and firmly covered my eyes. He placed my right hand on his shoulder, then began descending the stairs slowly.
“The steps are high. Please be careful.”
His concerned warning made me snort despite myself. Jinseong seemed to have completely forgotten that I was a martial artist.
He led me into a small room, sat me in a chair, and removed the blindfold.
“Please wait here for a little while. The Demon-Slaying Division Leader will arrive soon.”
Jinseong gave me a faint smile, as though trying to reassure me. But his face was tense.
“Thank you, Taoist.”
“I will take my leave now.”
“Yes.”
Jinseong gave a slight bow and turned away.
From outside, I could hear Beopgong’s voice, as though he were arguing with someone. But the moment Jinseong closed the door, every sound vanished.
The room had no windows and was surrounded by thick walls. Only a palm-sized brazier burned inside.
The floor was wet and smelled musty. Terrifying torture instruments hung in rows along the stone walls.
It seemed designed to heighten anxiety by locking people in a dark, damp place.
The more anxious someone became, the more effective the interrogation would be.
I tried to compose myself and sat up straight. I did not want to show weakness.
A short while later, I heard someone approaching from far away.
Whoever it was made no attempt to hide their footsteps.
I bit the soft flesh inside my mouth and stared at the tightly shut door.
Soon, it opened.
“Are you Tang Sohae?”
The martial artist who called my name in a rough voice strode into the room. A great spear was strapped to his back.
The force of his presence made me shrink instinctively. I forced myself to look at him directly.
By the look of things, this had to be Spear King Ak Jibaek.
“Yes.”
“The interrogation will last two hours.”
Ak Jibaek spoke coldly as he lit a stick of incense and placed it in the incense burner on the table. The tip burned down, releasing a thin trail of smoke.
I knew the smoke would not affect me, but the oppressive atmosphere still made my throat dry.
Ak Jibaek sat heavily in the chair across from me and set an iron kettle over the brazier.
I swallowed as I looked up at him.
He studied me from head to toe with an unreadable expression.
The strange silence broke when the kettle began to boil.
It spewed steam so violently that it sounded as though it might explode at any moment.
Ak Jibaek glanced at the noisily boiling kettle, propped his chin on one hand, and spoke.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
“...Pardon?”
I asked because I thought I had heard wrong. Ak Jibaek answered indifferently.
“It seems you skipped dinner. At your age, you need to eat plenty if you want to grow. Your brother was small too, but I don’t remember him being as short as you. You’re especially tiny.”
“...?”
Ak Jibaek let out a short laugh when he saw my baffled face.
“Relax. I never thought you were a Demonic Sect spy. If you were, the Martial Alliance would not need to do anything. Your master would tear you to pieces. That old man would never sit still.”
His certainty left me speechless for a moment.
Grandfather, what on earth kind of life did you live in the martial world?
I found myself curious about Tang Jung’s reputation in the martial world, while my racing heart returned to its normal rhythm.
If Ak Jibaek was right, I had nothing to worry about.
All that mattered was getting Yeon Ryang out safely.
Master Beopgong will find a way. I need to trust him.
I swallowed and clenched my fist. Ak Jibaek moved the boiling kettle onto the table.
“This is only a formality, so we’ll kill some time and then you can leave. What kind of tea do you like? You have been away from Sichuan for a long time, so should I bring out some Mengding tea? Ah, steep it yourself. If I do it, it tastes like garbage.”
His strangely friendly manner made me uncomfortable enough that I could not bring myself to answer.
When I shifted my eyes awkwardly, Ak Jibaek clicked his tongue.
“Was I overdoing it? Your brother asked me for a favor. Tang Un was terribly worried I might treat you harshly... Anyway, do you want tea?”
“Yes. Bring it out, and I’ll steep it.”
“Fine.”
Ak Jibaek nodded and brought out a set of tea implements and a container of tea leaves from somewhere.
The rich fragrance of the well-dried leaves made the corners of my lips rise.
They reminded me of Grandfather sitting in the tea room and enjoying tea.
As I slowly poured hot water over the tea implements to warm them, Ak Jibaek watched me with curious eyes.
“As expected, blood cannot be hidden.”
“Pardon?”
“The way you handle tea implements is exactly like your brother’s. Is that only natural because you grew up together? You Tangs are all the same.”
“Me?”
“Who else would I be talking about? There is no one here but you. Of course I mean you.”
Ak Jibaek snorted and tapped his teacup as though telling me to pour the tea already.
Smiling sheepishly, I filled his cup.
The way he so confidently regarded me as part of the Tang Clan stirred an odd feeling inside me.
I did not hold any particular affection for that family.
I had merely woken up in the Tang Clan and naturally leaned on it for shelter.
I had learned the Tang Clan’s martial arts because I had come to rely on Grandfather. I had never felt a sense of belonging to the Tang Clan’s name, nor any pride in it.
I was nothing more than an outsider.
But once I had left the clan, everyone I met saw me as a person of the Tang Clan.
There was something deeply strange about meeting people who could read the Tang Clan in my martial arts, my disposition, and even my smallest habits.
The clan name that had seeped into my life without my realizing it was becoming roots too intricate to cut away.
I looked down at the calluses embedded in every joint of my fingers, then quietly tucked my hands into the sleeves of my long robe.
...Maybe I would never be able to return to the life I had before I fell into the Central Plains.