By Zephyria 
HF 42
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“That I died…”
Blue flames still lingered in Ho-yeon’s eyes, but they lacked heat. The silk of the collar was crumpled carelessly in Ho-yeon’s grip. He should have prostrated himself before Mu-gyeong, the cult leader, and begged for forgiveness for his arrogant behavior, but the sense of betrayal was greater than his fear, and he couldn’t let go of his grip.
As Ho-yeon tried to clutch the collar more tightly, Mu-gyeong’s large hand suddenly seized the nape of his neck. Since he was practically lifted and held by one arm, Ho-yeon naturally ended up looking down at him.
Since looking up was an unfamiliar experience in his life, Mu-gyeong found the sensation somewhat novel, but that was all.
“Did you really send a letter to the Ice Palace saying that I was dead?”
If that were true, there was no way the Palace Master would have sent someone to the Demon Sect for his sake. To the Palace Master, Ho-yeon’s very existence was a disgrace to the Ice Palace, no different from a thunderclap bomb that could explode at any moment. In fact, he would likely have been glad that Ho-yeon was dead.
As that thought occurred to him, Ho-yeon pushed Mu-gyeong with all his might, demanding to be let go. It was nothing more than a snowflake fluttering helplessly, but Mu-gyeong, looking annoyed, struck the blood paths in his neck once more. With a thud, Ho-yeon slumped against Mu-gyeong like a stringless rag doll.
White, silk-like hair flowed down from the body draped over his shoulder. Every time Mu-gyeong took a step, it felt as if eternal snow were scattering. As Mu-gyeong’s black hair intertwined with it, it looked like ink spilled across a white sheet of paper.
“Does Wi Ho-yeon care so much about a mere letter?”
Since their trust had been shattered, the letter was bound to be important. If his body had only moved according to his will, he would have beaten his chest in sheer betrayal.
“You… you… are a fraud.”
Because his tongue hadn’t been seized, he could at least move it. He could have screamed, but he feared he might lose his voice if he did. Having been trapped in a cave on the Eternal Snow Mountain for a very long time, Ho-yeon knew how to control his heart fire, but his mouth wouldn’t stop due to the intense feeling of betrayal.
“Everyone in the Demon Sect is a fraud. The Right Guardian, The Sharp-Tongued Demon, the Demonic Shadow Martial House—all of them.”
The day he entered the Demon Sect, the talk at the inn about the cult leader being in closed-door cultivation had all been a setup.
“The Left Guardian was quite generous to go easy on you.”
He had confirmed the identity of the Right Guardian, who was said to be Mu-gyeong’s servant, today, but he hadn’t seen the Left Guardian. However, piecing the situation together, he suspected it was the man with the long, slanted eyes who had been with The Sharp-Tongued Demon at the inn.
Draped over Mu-gyeong’s shoulder, Ho-yeon didn’t even know where he was being taken. He could roll his eyes, but since he couldn’t lift his head, he could only see the floor. The black heavenly silk fabric against his face was soft, but the texture of the embroidered black dragon scales was vivid.
At some point, Ho-yeon’s body was placed on a bed. Since he was laid facing forward, he found himself staring directly at Mu-gyeong, who was looking down at him. He trembled at the frost energy touching his back, but in reality, he couldn’t move an inch. Ho-yeon could tell that this frost energy was emanating from the silk spread across the bed.
It was silk woven from ice silk thread, an energy so cold it felt as if it would pierce the bone. It was a thread that could only be harvested from the ice silk silkworm, a spiritual creature of the North Sea, but it seemed the ice silk silkworms could also live in the Hundred Thousand Great Mountains. Or perhaps it had been brought in from the North Sea.
Mu-gyeong gazed blankly at Ho-yeon’s cheek, which had quickly turned red from being scratched by the black dragon embroidery, even though it wasn’t particularly rough. Because his skin was excessively white, he was vulnerable to the sun and easily reddened by minor friction. Ho-yeon’s gaze, glaring at Mu-gyeong, was full of defiance.
“I am not an extreme yin constitution.”
“I believe you said you would pretend to be dead; is today not the day?”
Looking back, he had been right to call the cult leader, whose face he hadn’t even known, a petty man. Cheon Mu-gyeong had ultimately carried out the plan that Ho-yeon had tried to dismiss. At the time, oblivious to everything, he had practically shoved his head into a tiger’s maw and asked to be eaten. To think he had trusted Mu-gyeong that much…
Ho-yeon clamped his lips shut. Did Mu-gyeong really bring him here to tell the Ice Palace to know their place? But far from wanting to intimidate the Ice Palace, he seemed to have no interest in them at all—though now, he didn’t even know that for sure.
“Why on earth did you bring me from the Ice Palace?”
“I wasn’t the one who brought you.”
“What?”
“Wasn’t it the Ice Palace that sent you?”
Though Ho-yeon was speechless, his blue-gray eyes remained intense. Mu-gyeong nonchalantly turned his back on Ho-yeon.
“Where are you going in the middle of a sentence!”
“Tell me to report to you.”
Cheon Mu-gyeong chuckled. It was the same answer as the day he tried to give him silver, but the meaning felt entirely different now.
“Use it if you need it. I’m not giving it to you to spend at gisaeng houses or gambling dens. And if you have somewhere to go, tell me before you leave. Otherwise, I’ll worry for no reason.”
“Tell me to report to you.”
At the time, he had simply thought of him as a man with an annoying way of speaking, but for the cult leader, such a request was absurd.
Ho-yeon wanted to scream again, asking where he was going, but he forced himself to endure it. A cry erupted within him, demanding that Mu-gyeong at least release his blood paths before leaving, but he figured he wouldn’t listen anyway.
Ho-yeon exhaled, unable to even curl up on the bed that was radiating cold air. He wanted to huff and puff, but since his body wouldn’t follow his will, it resulted in nothing more than a small sigh.
If Cheon Mu-gyeong intended to freeze him to death like this, he had made a grave mistake. He was an ice palace inhabitant to his very core. Moreover, he was the sole survivor of the underground cave of the Eternal Snow Mountain. He wouldn’t be defeated by mere ice silk gold needles. Still, cold was cold.
Looking around with only his eyes, he saw that the Heavenly Demon’s bedchamber lacked any semblance of luxury, and smoke continuously leaked from a solitary incense burner. No heat from burning anything could be felt from the smoke; it was like a cold mist on a snowy dawn. That, too, seemed to be a rare treasure imbued with frost energy.
While it seemed far from the nine yang severed meridian, there was no doubt that Cheon Mu-gyeong had an issue related to heat. Ho-yeon guessed it might be related to the inscription he had seen on the man’s forearm that day.
Just then, someone entered the chamber, and Ho-yeon opened his mouth.
“If you’re trying to freeze an ice palace inhabitant to death—”
But it wasn’t the person he expected. The one who entered was holding the handles of a bronze brazier radiating heat. The stranger, dressed in black and wearing a mask, had particularly prominent, sharp eyes.
The man approached the chamber and set the bronze brazier down. Hearing the crackling sound, it seemed there were charcoal embers inside.
“This humble one is Jangun, and I shall be assisting Young Master Ho-yeon starting today.”
Lowering himself completely, Jangun introduced himself from beneath the bed. Since Ho-yeon couldn’t move his limbs, he didn’t utter any words of welcome. As Ho-yeon averted his gaze, Jangun remained motionless in his prostrate position. It seemed he would stay that way forever unless Ho-yeon told him to leave.
“Y-you may leave now.”
Jangun lifted his body from the floor and stepped out of the chamber. Then, he immediately returned and placed a fox-fur pelt over Ho-yeon’s body.
Ho-yeon was bewildered. He was cold beneath him because of the ice silk, but warm above him due to the fox fur and the brazier.
“May this humble one venture to arrange the Young Master’s gold needles?”
Jangun prostrated himself on the floor once again.
“It’s fine, just leave.”
“I earnestly beg you to allow me to arrange the gold needles.”
Had he been threatened by someone? To Jangun’s intense obsession with the gold needles, Ho-yeon gave a very small answer, telling him to do so. He was already exhausted and didn’t want to engage in a useless battle of nerves with Jangun. Jangun wrapped Ho-yeon in the fur and carefully pulled out the ice silk mattress that had been underneath him.
Then, skillfully, he spread the fox-fur blanket on the floor and covered Ho-yeon with a new silk quilt. Throughout the process, he did not touch Ho-yeon’s body once.
“I shall be outside, so please call for me whenever you wish.”
Unable to even say thank you, Ho-yeon closed his eyes slowly. The feeling of being tended to while paralyzed was not particularly pleasant.
Could this be Cheon Mu-gyeong’s instruction? Since everything in the chamber induced frost energy, he might have told his subordinate to clear it away. Jangun had even taken the incense burner, which had been full of yin energy.
However, that didn’t extinguish his anger toward Cheon Mu-gyeong. In truth, the sense of betrayal was greater than the anger. If only his body had moved, he would have rolled himself in the fox fur and slammed his curled-up body against the wall—but Ho-yeon could only imagine it.
Could Cheon Mu-gyeong possibly know that he was a human elixir? No, the only one who knew that fact was the Ice Palace Master, Wi Yeon-gang. Besides, he was an elixir only to ice palace inhabitants who practiced ice arts; to other murim warriors, excessive yin energy would actually be poisonous.
But it was true that Cheon Mu-gyeong’s yang energy was excessively strong. Although Ho-yeon wasn’t an extreme yin constitution, he wondered if Mu-gyeong might try to harm him just to see what would happen if he consumed someone who handled ice arts.
Yet, strangely, Cheon Mu-gyeong had not harmed him despite having several opportunities. They had even shared a bed many times.
Then, a scene suddenly flashed through his mind. It was the day Cheon Mu-gyeong had disappeared from the thatched cottage. When he had headed toward the valley as if fleeing from him, unable to believe he had an erection, what had he seen?
Reflected in the water was a red stain etched near the heart. At the time, he had naively thought he might have bumped into something, but looking back, it looked like a mark where someone had driven a hand straight into the heart.
As if they had tried to rip the heart out…