By Zephyria 
HF 33
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Ho-yeon felt as if he had made some kind of mistake, even though he had asked a question that seemed perfectly natural. Or perhaps Mu-gyeong also felt he had misspoke earlier and was carefully choosing his words.
“Your person is with me, so you are mine.”
However, Mu-gyeong gave an answer that made Ho-yeon doubt his own ears. Perhaps Ho-yeon had inwardly hoped that he meant “mine” in a different sense. Even if he didn’t dare hope to be called “his person,” wasn’t the expression “mine”—as in an object—a bit too much? Still, since the ice palace and the demon sect were so far apart, he figured there might be a vast difference in their ways of thinking, so he asked again.
“Is that some kind of demon sect way of calculating things?”
“And if it is?”
Since the words of the Sect Leader were law, it wasn’t technically wrong from Mu-gyeong’s perspective. Ho-yeon looked down for a moment, chewing on his lip.
“But I’m not a member of the demon sect. Therefore, I’m not yours. And I don’t think it’s right to refer to a person as your ‘thing’ like an object.”
He found himself lecturing him, just as he did with the children of Eumbyeol Hall. Clink. Mu-gyeong set down his liquor cup. Why was it? That familiar tension began to cast a shadow at Ho-yeon’s feet once again.
“Weren’t you the Sect Leader’s thing to begin with?”
Ho-yeon looked considerably shocked by the cold, firm tone. To think that Mu-gyeong of all people would say such a thing; he felt wounded.
“Even if I’m in a position no different from a hostage, I am not the Sect Leader’s property.”
As Mu-gyeong sat in the chair, he cast his gaze toward the folding screen stretched out behind Ho-yeon. An ink wash painting depicting the vast panorama of the hundred thousand great mountains enveloped Ho-yeon’s back. Even though it was merely a painting on a screen, Ho-yeon felt as if he could not escape the hundred thousand great mountains.
“Not the Sect Leader’s property,” Mu-gyeong muttered. Ho-yeon had known for a while that Mu-gyeong’s manner of speaking wasn’t particularly kind, but he hadn’t realized he thought of him that way.
“Weren’t you sold?”
He was indifferent as usual, but it felt as if he were driving home the point that Ho-yeon indeed belonged to the Sect Leader.
“I can’t go back because I was sold.”
Ho-yeon had said that himself once. In reality, he had chosen to go to the demon sect for the safety of the children at Eumbyeol Hall. And if one were to be precise, the one who paid the price was not the Sect Leader, but the Palace Master.
“The demon sect didn’t pay a single penny for me.”
“Would you sell yourself if a price worth paying were offered?”
It was a detestable remark, enough to make Ho-yeon want to slap the liquor cup right out of Mu-gyeong’s hand.
“If that were the case, the Sect Leader would have traded with money from the start. That cheapskate probably threatened our ice palace because he didn’t want to pay.”
As he spoke, Ho-yeon briefly scanned their surroundings. He was worried that cursing the Sect Leader inside the Demonic Shadow Martial House might be risky.
“Cheapskate?”
Mu-gyeong’s tone sounded incredulous. Since when had he ever held loyalty toward the Sect Leader? Ho-yeon felt resentful that Mu-gyeong was taking the Sect Leader’s side instead of his.
“Am I wrong? He’s a cheapskate, alright.”
“If the Sect Leader were to pay the price…”
“I don’t need it. He can rot in closed-door cultivation forever.”
It was hard to see because he was tilting his cup, but as Mu-gyeong’s eyes narrowed, it looked as if he were smiling.
“Young Master Ho-yeon, for the crime of insulting the Sect Leader thus far, your head would have been chopped off several times over.”
How could he say such harsh things? Ho-yeon clutched his own neck with his hand and furrowed his brow.
“Just what… what do you think of me?”
Back when he had searched for him so desperately, Ho-yeon had never imagined he would end up facing Mu-gyeong like this.
“Wi Ho-yeon from the ice palace.”
Surely that isn’t all…
“Is that… all?”
Ho-yeon spoke his inner thoughts aloud.
“Other than that, the fact that you are hiding your internal energy. That is all.”
There had been times when Ho-yeon wondered why Mu-gyeong never directly asked about the internal energy he was hiding. But as time passed, he came to believe it was out of consideration for him. He firmly believed that the thoughtful Mu-gyeong was simply choosing not to pry into his secrets.
Now he saw it was a complete misunderstanding. Unlike Ho-yeon, Mu-gyeong had little interest in him, and it almost sounded as if he were saying Ho-yeon had been insidiously deceiving him.
“I’m originally… not built to learn martial arts.”
Because of that, Ho-yeon clenched his fists tight, thinking of how it hurt whenever he used internal energy. Since his skin was naturally pale, it wasn’t even obvious how hard he was squeezing.
Mu-gyeong did not understand why Ho-yeon was hurt. Just a moment ago, Ho-yeon had been worrying about him and then feeling relieved, and he had been pacing anxiously over Eumyo-hwa’s situation, showing a variety of emotions—and now, he had a heartbroken expression. To Mu-gyeong, it was an incomprehensible flow of emotion.
“Was I the only one… who thought we had a great bond?”
Resting his chin on his hand, Mu-gyeong suddenly thought that Ho-yeon was truly young. Being able to honestly pour out the emotions within was a privilege of children.
Having never associated with children even across his repeated lives, perhaps that was why Ho-yeon felt more novel to Mu-gyeong. The man who was his senior possessed the honesty of a child.
Ho-yeon’s full lips were pressed firmly into a straight line. He was waiting for an answer from Mu-gyeong. His blue-grey eyes, which should have looked cold at a glance, were filled with disappointment.
“If it’s not a great bond, but a malicious one.”
Just as Mu-gyeong was about to drink, Ho-yeon snatched the cup away. The amount of liquor remaining in the cup was as much as the liquid that chilled Ho-yeon’s hand.
“You really have a way of saying things poorly.”
Then, Ho-yeon downed the remaining liquor in one gulp. Ho-yeon grimaced as the alcohol sizzled down his throat. The breath he let out with a sigh felt strangely hot. Thump. Ho-yeon set the cup down with an intentional loud noise and wiped his wet lips with the back of his hand.
“I think you’re a very significant bond in my life, but for you, it might not be that much. Fine, I’ll accept it.”
Though he had only just drunk it, a reddish hue was gradually spreading from the tip of his chin. The reason Ho-yeon didn’t drink wasn’t simply because he disliked it. Because his digestive system was weak, he couldn’t detoxify alcohol.
To Ho-yeon, alcohol was poison. Moreover, the liquor Mu-gyeong drank was Fen-style liquor, which even seasoned drinkers found difficult to handle. It had a clear, clean taste, but once swallowed, it was potent enough to feel as if one’s throat were burning.
Eventually, the red flush rose to Ho-yeon’s forehead. Despite this, Ho-yeon pushed the cup back, asking for another. Mu-gyeong silently refilled the cup.
“You… are really too much. When I’m like this, shouldn’t you tell me to stop drinking, or at least pretend to be worried?”
He wasn’t drunk from that one glass yet; he was just Wi Ho-yeon, saying everything he wanted to say. Even a moment ago, when Ho-yeon snatched the cup, Mu-gyeong could have stopped him easily. With his martial prowess, it must have looked as if a turtle were reaching out its hand.
But he had let it happen. Ho-yeon felt a second wave of resentment.
Unwilling to back down further, there was no hesitation in the hand reaching for the cup. However, Mu-gyeong grabbed the cup first and downed it in a flash.
If he was going to be mean, he should just stay mean; he kept playing with Ho-yeon’s emotions.
“Your body is that hot because you drink this kind of strong liquor every day.”
Still, Ho-yeon did not hide his sharp eyes, attacking him while laying bare all his frustration. Then, he immediately regretted it.
Perhaps Mu-gyeong was right. Regardless of debts of gratitude or whatever, how long had it actually been since they met… He looked back at himself, wondering if the distance had been too close because he had spent more time with children than adults.
Ho-yeon’s throat still felt hot and his face was flushed a deep red, so he fluttered the collar of his light robes. No matter how cold his body was, this was why he didn’t drink. The distress his body felt was greater than the warmth provided by the rising temperature.
Mu-gyeong, on the other hand, drank such liquor with ease, without a hint of intoxication. Since the fire energy in his body masked the heat of the alcohol, it was nothing more than water to him. Of course, there was no way Ho-yeon knew that.
“Give me another glass too.”
Ho-yeon tried a third act of stubbornness. But Mu-gyeong poured the rest of the liquor into the cup and finished it before Ho-yeon could even touch it.
“Why not, if Wi Ho-yeon from the ice palace wants to drink more.”
Ho-yeon, who had just been fussing about whether he should be stopped, quickly changed his tune.
“It would be troublesome if you ended up in a lava pit too.”
Mu-gyeong gave a short laugh. Enveloped by the ink wash painting of the hundred thousand great mountains, Ho-yeon could not take his eyes off Mu-gyeong. His smile was like a single dot falling from a brush and smoothly spreading. Flushed bright red, Ho-yeon thought it was a relief that the alcohol was circulating through him.
Because it felt as if a spark-like dot had fallen and spread across his own chest.