As you go through life, you meet all sorts of people.
Only a tiny fraction of them become what you’d call meaningful connections.
Most pass through your life by chance, then gradually fade from your memory. Their names. Their faces.
But there are exceptions.
Like the guy sprinting toward me just as I set foot on the landing.
“Young Master Jin! Young Master Jin!”
Was this guy a chance encounter, or a connection that would stick?
I pushed the thought aside and faced the young man, who’d already rushed right up to me.
He was handsome in a refined, aristocratic sort of way, though his upturned eyes made him look sly.
Actually, now that I thought about it, his personality had been a bit like that too.
Right now, though, he looked like a dog reunited with an owner it thought it had lost.
But…
“What was your name again?”
The young man had been panting away as if to prove just how poor his stamina was. At my mutter, he stared at me in shock.
“Y-you mean you don’t even remember my name?”
Of course I didn’t. Who remembers every extra’s name when they watch a movie?
I answered shamelessly anyway.
“Of course I remember.”
“Liar! I heard exactly what you just said!”
“You misheard. I talk about you all the time. Don’t I, Mujin?”
Unlike the Fire Dragon Pavilion’s fresh-faced newbies, Hyuk Mujin was a veteran. Apart from the year he’d spent at Mount Jiuhua, he’d been by my side the whole time.
He caught the signal in my words and answered with a relaxed smile.
“Of course. You’ve praised Young Master Protagonist so often I’ve got calluses on my ears.”
“See? You heard him, Young Master Protagonist.”
I’d shown him some goodwill and found out his name. A perfect bit of banter had me feeling rather pleased with myself—until the young man looked back and forth between Hyuk Mujin and me with a completely flat expression.
“Ju Wongong.”
“…?”
“…?”
“Not Protagonist. Ju Wongong.”
“…!”
“…!”
After a brief silence, I spoke carefully.
“Did you happen to change your name…?”
“Would I have?”
“Right, no. I just thought…”
“How could you forget? Even now, when I close my eyes, I can still feel the warmth I felt in that cold, dark Dongting Lake!”
At Ju Wongong’s deeply wounded cry, everyone around us turned to look at me. I could hear their hushed voices, too.
“What’s going on…?”
“Could it be…?”
“No way…”
“Remember that time our captain went from the Night King to a blushing innocent, then turned into a Supreme Peak-level homosexual…?”
I’d wondered which bastard was spouting nonsense like a webnovel title. Turns out it was the very bastard I knew.
I sentenced Hyuk Mujin to death with a glare, then spoke as calmly as I could, keeping a close eye on Ju Hwaran. She’d clapped a hand over her mouth.
“I’ll explain everything. It’s all a misunderstanding.”
And right then—
“Remember that time our captain went from the Night King to a blushing innocent, then became a Supreme Peak-level homosexual? The allegations he denied…?”
For the first time in a while, I lost my temper.
“Hyah!”
The coachman cracked his whip, and the splendid carriage drawn by six fine horses raced down the smooth highway.
A carriage was a symbol of wealth—a luxury anyone with enough money could afford, regardless of status. But a six-horse carriage was different.
Especially when a golden flag fluttered above it.
Clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop!
“Clear the road!”
“Make way for Young Master Ju Wongong!”
Dozens of mounted soldiers escorted the enormous carriage, and the golden flag marked it as belonging to the imperial family. The road parted before us like the Red Sea.
“Mom, what’s that?”
“Shh!”
Commoners along the road, young and old, hurriedly dropped to the ground. Even the fat, powerful official who’d been lording it over everyone from a sedan chair carried by four men climbed down with a wobble.
Huh. So what I heard before we left was true?
I peered out through the lattice window, then looked at Ju Wongong.
I hadn’t seen him in over four months by Murim’s reckoning. He looked even more full of life than before.
Well, of course he did. The last time I saw him, he’d looked more like a drowned corpse than a person.
“Everything is thanks to Young Master Jin.”
Apparently his face wasn’t the only thing that had changed. Had he learned to read minds? Ju Wongong spoke out of nowhere, stroking his neatly trimmed beard.
“After I nearly died at Dongting Lake, I resolved to be reborn. I repented of my old ways, when I did nothing but drink, chase women, and gamble…”
“And yet you were out having a great time on a pleasure boat.”
Ju Wongong faltered, then changed his tune.
“I repented, but resolved to cut back gradually. I’ve also been training my body…”
“You were about to collapse after running just over thirty jang1 just now.”
“Physical training isn’t easy, so I’m taking it one step at a time. Trying to look at the world with an open mind…”
“So you’ve thought about it, but haven’t actually done anything.”
My neat summary could’ve made even Daechi-dong’s top cram-school instructor weep.2 Ju Wongong fell silent for a moment, then spoke.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
“And why did you do that to me?”
“I only said what came to mind. I never imagined it would cause such a ridiculous misunderstanding.”
“You should’ve known. Before you hurt my feelings.”
After spending half an hour explaining the whole “That Time Our Captain Denied Going from the Night King to a Blushing Innocent and Becoming a Supreme Peak-Level Lover of Men” business, I gazed mournfully off to one side and continued.
“One of my subordinates got hurt because of you.”
Ju Wongong followed my gaze and shuddered.
In one corner of the carriage, still racing along without pause, a bloody mess—no, Hyuk Mujin—was sprawled against the luxurious interior.
“But it’s not my fault he ended up like that.”
“You did it. He died because of you.”
“Is he really dead…?”
“He’s alive. For now. But he almost died.”
“B-but that’s because you beat him like you were going to kill him!”
“I don’t remember. When I opened my eyes, he was already like that.”
“Of course you don’t! You’d already gone wild by then!”
“Are you shouting at me right now? Just because you’re part of the imperial family, you think you can go around scaring innocent people?”
“N-no, that’s not what I—”
“That’s it. I’m really hurt. Get out of the carriage. I’m going straight back to my hometown.”
“Why are you telling me to get out of my own carriage? And if you mean your hometown, that’s Shanxi Province. Why would you suddenly go there…?”
“To visit the little—no, His Highness, Prince Shangshan. He must’ve grown quite a bit by now. When I saw him about two years ago, I was even changing his poopy diapers.”
“P-Prince Shangshan! Poopy diapers!”
Even among Celestial Dragons, there were different levels.
Ju Wongong had been horrified at the name of Prince Shangshan Zhu Bao—the Son of Heaven’s only younger brother, the sole Prince, and the chairman of my personal fan club. Then he suddenly furrowed his brow.
“Wait. From what I’ve heard, His Highness Prince Shangshan was already over ten years old a few years ago, and only met you around then. Why would he be wearing diapers?”
Oh, right.
But when a sharp reader catches a sloppy continuity error, there’s no need to panic. I widened my eyes and shot back:
“Are you making fun of His Highness Prince Shangshan for wearing diapers at his age?”
“Huh?”
“This is treason.”
“Wha—?”
“This is treason! Rebellion!”
“You’re insane! Shut your mouth!”
“Listen, everyone! Protagonist, a member of the imperial family, has insulted His Highness Prince Shangshan!”
“It’s Ju Wongong, not Protagonist! And would you please stop!”
Of course, no matter how loudly I shouted, nobody outside could hear me. I’d sealed off every sound from inside the carriage with my internal energy.
Ju Wongong didn’t know that, though. He immediately dropped to his knees.
“I’m begging you! I’ll do anything you ask, Young Master Jin, so please stop!”
“I’ll have His Highness Prince Shangshan, who brings shame on the imperial family, struck from the imperial genealogy—oh, seriously?”
“I-I mean it. So please, stop. Just let me live.”
If you didn’t know the situation, you might wonder why he was groveling like this. But the current Son of Heaven had a long and colorful history of purging his own relatives on his way to the throne.
Put simply, he wasn’t just an expert at killing his own blood relatives. He was practically the equal of the Primordial Heavenly Venerable.
And if even a hint of the word rebellion reached the Son of Heaven’s ears?
Rather than waste time on a long-winded excuse, you’d be better off heading straight for the Sichuan Tang Clan. At least the people there knew dozens of poisons that would kill you less painfully than the poisoned draught sure to arrive soon.
“Why are you crying now? Anyone would think you were actually plotting treason.”
I patted Ju Wongong on the shoulder. I felt a little sorry for him, but there was a simple reason I was pushing him this far.
It’s easier when you’ve got someone in your pocket.
Before the carriage left, I’d heard why this guy—who should’ve been stuck in Hubei Province for taking bribes—had suddenly turned up in Sichuan, merrily sailing a pleasure boat.
“My crime hasn’t been completely wiped away. His merciful Majesty merely moved my place of exile to Sichuan for a while, and I’m obeying his command. But if some rumor about treason starts going around… Really, really…”
“Yeah, yeah. I understand. But is what you said earlier true?”
I gazed fondly at Ju Wongong, who was still streaming tears, and continued.
“W-what do you mean?”
I gazed fondly at Ju Wongong, who was still streaming tears, and continued.
“That you’re the acting City Lord of Sichuan Province.”
Ju Wongong sniffled and nodded.
“That’s right. I didn’t expect it either, but there’s no doubt it was an imperial command.”
A lot had happened while I was away from Sichuan.
The City Lord of Sichuan Province had suddenly fallen ill. And the other officials weren’t trustworthy enough to be entrusted with such a vast stretch of land and its military forces.
That was probably why Ju Wongong had been chosen.
He was a distant imperial relative with no real claim to the throne. He lacked the nerve, ability, and backing to make such a claim, and his only real talent was drinking, chasing women, and gambling. There couldn’t have been a more suitable person to fill the empty seat for a while.
But Ju Wongong could offer me more than I’d expected.
His appointment might only be temporary, but his personal incompetence didn’t diminish the authority of the City Lord of Sichuan Province.
At least while I’m in Sichuan, I can make sure they’re thoroughly prepared for Dark Heaven.
The government and Murim had long maintained an uneasy coexistence.
But if I could mobilize the government’s manpower—which dwarfed Murim’s—maybe we could uncover whatever Dark Heaven might be planning in Sichuan.
Of course, before that…
“Hey, let’s go to the Sichuan Tang Clan.”
I had someone to meet. Someone I’d been separated from for a while.
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