By Zephyria 
HF 17
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However, Ho-yeon was nowhere to be seen in the waiting room for the artists.
Seeing that his ever-present oil-paper umbrella was also gone, it seemed he had finished his work with surgical precision and left the pavilion.
The pavilion guard sent a telepathic transmission to the courtesan, informing her that Ho-yeon had already departed. Upon hearing the news, the courtesan moved on to find another guest who was seeking her. In truth, trying to warn him had been an excessive kindness. There was no reason for her to involve herself further in whatever happened outside the pavilion.
Having stepped outside, Young Master Yeom waited for Ho-yeon to appear, his eyes bloodshot. His heavy breaths were thick with the smell of alcohol. Young Master Yeom’s mind was already filled with lewd thoughts of dragging Ho-yeon back to his quarters to roll around together. How long had he been engaging in this imaginary intercourse? No matter how long he waited, not a single soul appeared at the back gate.
Young Master Yeom abruptly marched back into the pavilion and shouted harshly, demanding to know where the seven-stringed zither player had gone. Since he refused to believe the warrior’s word that he had already left, Ruju had to open the artists’ waiting area wide to prove it.
“Young Master Yeom, I apologize for saying this, but Yeon’s nickname is ‘Swift Arrow’.”
Ruju bowed repeatedly, catering to Young Master Yeom’s mood.
“Swift Arrow?”
“He earned that name because he vanishes the moment his work is done.”
Young Master Yeom, who had been scowling, finally let out a boisterous laugh. Right, it wouldn’t be any fun if he were caught so easily. If anything, the passion within Young Master Yeom seemed to burn even hotter. Now in a better mood, Young Master Yeom handed a generous sum of money to Ruju.
“Make sure you hold onto that arrow tightly tomorrow so he cannot be so swift.”
While there were many seven-stringed zither players in the world, a source of funds like Young Master Yeom was hard to find. Ruju nodded firmly, telling him to trust her.
* * *
The residence received from Mu Seong-pyeong was located at the foot of a mountain, away from other civilian homes. In his heart, Mu Seong-pyeong probably wanted to shove his son at the very peak of the mountain to prevent him from visiting pavilions or gambling dens, but he likely realized that would be meaningless. After all, Mu-gyeong possessed the martial prowess to traverse the main sect while evading the eyes of strict guards.
As a father, he must be deeply disappointed, as he likely wanted Mu-gyeong to devote himself further to demonic arts and enter the ranks of the fifteen greatest masters.
Ho-yeon had never seen a heavenly martial body in person, but judging solely by innate skeletal structure and muscle characteristics, he felt Mu-gyeong came closest. If one were to mold a person based on the hundred thousand great mountains, it would be exactly like him.
His talent was dazzling, yet there seemed to be no will to put in the effort. Ho-yeon had not seen him perform even basic meditative breathing, let alone actual training, so it was easy to imagine what his life had been like before meeting him.
Then again, it was a mercy that he had been given a house at all. As that thought occurred to him, Ho-yeon felt that Mu Seong-pyeong was quite remarkable. However, no matter the parent, one cannot force a child to do something they absolutely refuse to do. In the Eumbyeol Hall, there had been a child who was intelligent but detested studying; even when expensive board games were bought for him, the child quickly lost interest.
Thus, Ho-yeon understood both Mu-gyeong and Mu Seong-pyeong, and could not take a side.
As he crossed the yard, Ho-yeon’s eyes widened at the sight of the lantern light emanating from inside the house. With a mixture of relief and slight disappointment, he opened the door and stepped over the threshold in one breath. Mu-gyeong, who seemed to have just bathed, was wearing silk sleepwear.
“You’re back early.”
The moment he saw his face, the feeling of disappointment grew, so Ho-yeon intentionally spoke in a grumpy tone.
“You’re late.”
It was absurd. Of course, Ho-yeon had given up on being called ‘older brother’ from the start, so he had grown accustomed to it since they started living together. The reason Ho-yeon found it ridiculous was different. Although Mu-gyeong had returned before him, it wasn’t something a man who had been absent from the house all morning should say.
Furthermore, Mu-gyeong had not even tied the waist-string of his sleepwear. Even between two men, Mu-gyeong was far too indifferent. Ho-yeon intentionally turned his gaze toward the wall and set down the seven-stringed zither and the oil-paper umbrella he had carried.
Mu-gyeong followed Ho-yeon’s movements with his eyes. Ho-yeon still couldn’t get used to the gaze that seemed to observe his every action. However, it didn’t give him the creepy feeling that Young Master Yeom did. After taking off his outer garment and hanging it on the rack, Ho-yeon was left in only his undergarments.
In his heart, Ho-yeon wanted to sell off everything—including the clothes he brought from the North Sea and Mu-gyeong’s expensive garments—but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
It was because he could feel Mu Seong-pyeong’s heart in Mu-gyeong’s clothes. Mu-gyeong’s servant, who carried a fan, often brought him silk robes or light armor made of expensive fabric. Since the servant couldn’t possibly afford such things, it must all be from the father’s heart.
If he sold such sincerity to a silk shop, Mu-gyeong’s return to that palace-like home would become eternally distant. Of course, while Ho-yeon claimed to be considering Mu Seong-pyeong’s feelings, he couldn’t say there wasn’t a very calculating reason as well.
Ho-yeon also preferred to stay in the residence of Mu Seong-pyeong he had seen that day rather than in a thatched cottage. Just by glancing at that grand estate, it seemed to have at least a dozen eaves.
If Mu-gyeong had been poor to begin with, he would have naturally accepted this place with gratitude, but since he had ended up in this state by frequenting pavilions and gambling dens, it was simply a pity.
Although his disappointment toward Mu-gyeong didn’t last long, Ho-yeon didn’t speak to him affectionately. He felt the need to be a bit strict. He intended to make it clear that since they were together, basic rules should be followed. The confidence Ho-yeon felt came from Mu-gyeong’s behavior.
If Mu-gyeong had hated him, he would have kicked him out of this house given by his father. However, he returned home regularly enough and showed no sign of discomfort at Ho-yeon’s presence.
“Where were you all day?”
Suddenly, Ho-yeon rose on his tiptoes to increase his height and brought his face close to Mu-gyeong’s. Then, he sniffed near Mu-gyeong’s mouth.
“I don’t smell alcohol.”
As usual, only a heavy scent emanated from him. Suddenly, Mu-gyeong also brought the tip of his nose to Ho-yeon’s cheek. It was a distance so close that the fine hairs on Ho-yeon’s cheek, which he hadn’t even known existed, felt tickled.
He acted as if he were smelling Ho-yeon’s scent as well. With the lantern behind them, it looked as if Ho-yeon was being engulfed by a giant shadow. Ho-yeon, who had approached first, froze like ice.
“Why… I don’t drink.”
A transparent, refreshing coolness that seemed to purify fire energy lingered around Ho-yeon. This wasn’t the first time Mu-gyeong had seen an ice palace inhabitant. However, it was a scent he had never encountered from anyone else.
Ho-yeon could also feel the sandalwood scent lingering on Mu-gyeong more deeply. The scent, which remained subtle and slow, never leaked out hastily, as always. It simply sat heavily like an ancient tree, spreading quietly.
Startled by his face, which had descended to his neck before he knew it, Ho-yeon jumped back. He then reflexively rubbed the back of his neck and looked down.
“Do ice palace inhabitants usually have no sense of personal space?”
Who is he to say that…! Ho-yeon almost snapped, but realizing he was the one who had approached first, he cleared his throat. Instead of making an excuse, he took something out of the robe hanging on the rack and held it out.
“It’s one liang.”
Ho-yeon added a comment while glancing at Mu-gyeong’s slightly furrowed brow.
“Use it if you need to. I’m not giving it to you to spend at pavilions or gambling dens. And if you’re going somewhere, tell me you’re going. Otherwise, I’ll worry for no reason.”
“You want me to report to you.”
Ho-yeon often found himself at a loss for words with Mu-gyeong. As he lived with him, he realized that Mu-gyeong didn’t tend to filter his words. To put it nicely, he was honest; to put it bluntly, he was rude.
It was expected since he lived as a young master of a powerful clan, but he acted the same way even toward those above him. Even when they arrived at the main sect, he went to the inn to eat first; he likely wouldn’t be any different even in front of the Cult Leader. It was a miracle he had survived in the demon sect with such a personality.
Ho-yeon wanted to say it wasn’t a ‘report’ but courtesy between people living together, and that he should at least be able to go look for him if something happened, but he held back. He knew that with Mu-gyeong, being concise and direct was far better.
“Yes, report to me,” Ho-yeon said decisively.
“Are you planning to play the role of a wife?”
“Because you’re my older brother.”
“Ah, ‘older brother’.”
“Reporting isn’t that difficult, is it?”
Ho-yeon faced Mu-gyeong with a serious gaze, as if refusing to back down.