By Zephyria 
HF 66
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Ho-yeon grit his teeth as he watched the letter burn away completely. He had known everything. Even knowing that Ho-yeon had been playing dumb, he had mocked him thoroughly before snatching the letter away.
“The Eumbyeol Hall isn’t here; it’s in the Ice Palace.”
He could have at least let him read what it said. If he had burned it after that, his chest wouldn’t feel so stifled.
“The part about me being dead was a lie too, wasn’t it?”
Why would the Palace Master send a letter to a dead person? Ho-yeon remained with his fists clenched, not even picking up the seven-stringed zither that had fallen to the floor.
“Did I ever permit interaction between Wi Ho-yeon and the Ice Palace?”
The arrow was now aimed at Do-gyeon.
“Since the Sect Leader bestowed a great fortune upon the Ice Palace, I presumed it would be acceptable to deliver the letter to Young Master Wi. It was entirely my oversight.”
Do-gyeon knelt on one knee as if offering his head, just as he had before. A great fortune? Ho-yeon repeated Do-gyeon’s words in his mind.
“The Palace Master had no objection to paying Young Master Wi’s ransom to the Ice Palace. Therefore, Young Master Wi is effectively a dead man.”
As an envoy visiting the Ice Palace, Do-gyeon had mentioned a peace marriage between the Demon Sect and the Ice Palace, but that was obviously a joke. Ho-yeon had been brought there as a hostage. There was no need to pay a ransom for such a person, yet the Sect Leader had provided a considerable amount of wealth, perhaps to ensure a complete severance between Wi Ho-yeon and the Ice Palace.
Do-gyeon actually quite liked the bold Wi Ho-yeon. However, as a member of the sect, he knew such behavior was unacceptable. Wi Ho-yeon acted as if the Sect Leader were a close friend.
“Why… why did you pay my ransom?”
Despite the ominous aura emanating from the Sect Leader, Ho-yeon did not back down. Was he testing how far the Sect Leader would tolerate him? Do-gyeon couldn’t tell if this was bravery or sheer madness.
He couldn’t even guarantee that white neck would remain intact if Ho-yeon crossed the line. Of course, simply speaking informally had already been enough to have his head severed hundreds of times over.
“It would indeed be right to annihilate the Ice Palace for deceiving this seat.”
Ho-yeon flinched at his indifferent tone. Looking at the sequence of events, this wouldn’t have happened if the Demon Sect hadn’t acted maliciously by demanding the extreme yin constitution.
It was a truly unfair situation, but it was a world where the strong prevailed. Regardless, it was a fact that the Ice Palace had deceived the Demon Sect, and as Mu-gyeong said, the Demon Sect had plenty of justification to attack the Ice Palace.
Ho-yeon knew that speaking further would only work against him. With no other choice, he crouched on the floor and untied the sandbags bound to his ankles. He didn’t rip them off aggressively; he untied them quite calmly while crouching.
Just then, the seven-stringed zither that had been lying on the floor flew toward him as if to be embraced. Startled by the sudden weight, Ho-yeon fell backward with a thud. This heavy instrument couldn’t have flown on its own; Cheon Mu-gyeong had released demonic energy to manipulate it via void grasp.
He had been intending to pick up the zither himself after removing the sandbags. Though, in his heart, he wanted to lock himself in his quarters without looking back. But being forced into this position again brought a suffocating tightness to his chest.
Ho-yeon glared with bluish eyes at the red eyes. The man was once again tilting a liquor bottle while sitting in the wooden chair.
Sitting on the floor for all to see, Ho-yeon placed the zither on his lap. The strings must have gone out of tune when it fell, but he didn’t bother tuning them. He didn’t want to put that much effort into it.
Do-gyeon remained in a posture of submission, and Abok kept his head bowed far away until called.
Ho-yeon truly wasn’t in the mood. He forced his hands onto the strings, but his mind was a blank as to what to play. He almost wished Mu-gyeong would specify a piece.
Mu-gyeong, however, cast his gaze toward Do-gyeon on the floor.
“Do-gyeon. I believe I said I do not keep two masters under the same sky.”
“Yes, you did.”
“Yet, my disciple seems intent on having two masters.”
As Ho-yeon snapped his head up, his white hair tied upward swayed. His expression seemed to ask, Me? When?
“I heard he was desperate to learn lightfoot technique from Do-gyeon.”
Oh boy. Do-gyeon, who had been watching with interest, made a face beneath his bowed head that suggested this wasn’t how things were supposed to go. He had heard from Jangun that the Sect Leader intended to teach Wi Ho-yeon something, but he hadn’t realized it had progressed to a master-disciple relationship.
Of course, he didn’t actually believe the Sect Leader would sincerely grant martial arts to an inhabitant of the Ice Palace.
“A master… that’s probably a lie anyway.”
“You said yourself that I was useful. But is this acting useful?”
“I…! I’m good at embroidery, and as you’ve heard, I’m quite decent at playing the seven-stringed zither.”
These were the various strengths he had listed while begging for his life.
“Do you… really have to be like this, even though you need me?”
Ho-yeon was asking if he really had to burn the letter. However, as if it weren’t worth answering, the man only swallowed a gulp of liquor, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Then again, Cheon Mu-gyeong was a man who believed that if he needed something, he could simply extort it. From the start, his philosophy was incompatible with Ho-yeon’s.
“Fine, it’s tiring for me to keep repeating the same thing too. So I’ll stop now. You told me to play. How can I play if you don’t pick a song?”
“Treating me like a dead man; you really must want to die.”
Sitting on the floor, Ho-yeon’s eyes were filled with shock. What had he done so wrong…? Of course, if he analyzed it rationally, he had indeed committed a grave offense against the Sect Leader.
But they hadn’t started their relationship as Sect Leader and hostage. They had shared a bed and clung to each other many times. But what else was there beyond that?
…Nothing.
What on earth had he seen to think they had a bond, or that they had become close? It felt as if white frost was settling in his mind.
Dong. Ho-yeon plucked the lowest string.
“Since the Sect Leader does not seem to have a preferred piece, I shall play one of my own choosing.”
I’m going to lose it. Do-gyeon wanted to scold Wi Ho-yeon to stop being so presumptuous. Caught between them, Do-gyeon’s entire body felt numb from the demonic energy Cheon Mu-gyeong had failed to restrain. It had certainly started as mere mischief, but after the letter was burned, the Sect Leader seemed to have withdrawn his generosity due to Wi Ho-yeon’s excessive attitude.
While it was somewhat welcoming to see the Sect Leader, who rarely showed emotion, express something, there was a limit to that.
As another du-ung sound pierced the air, a chill that seemed to freeze the air of the Shadowless Pavilion settled in. This was followed by a long, delicate trembling of the strings. A part that should have sounded mournful instead grazed the ears as sharp as a dagger. As the tempo suddenly accelerated into a rushing section, Cheon Mu-gyeong’s lips twisted.
The piece Ho-yeon was playing was the Song of Solitary Planting. While it meant a melody of planting one’s integrity alone, it could also be interpreted as a song of solitary consumption. It was used to mock an egoist who tried to monopolize everything for themselves.
Abok, knowing the hidden meaning, turned pale and his fingertips began to tremble.
“Halt! Wi Ho-yeon, how dare you!”
Do-gyeon’s reprimand was fierce. Acting before something uncontrollable happened, Do-gyeon intentionally wore an enraged expression. Ho-yeon stopped plucking the strings and lowered his head deeply.
“Just give the order, Sect Leader. I shall severely punish this insolent brat!”
Mu-gyeong had already turned his body toward Ho-yeon and was looking down at his head. Perhaps because it was a cloudy day without sunlight, there wasn’t a hint of redness on the forehead that peeked through. Because his hair was tied up, the crown of his head was not visible. He looked like a bundle of white silk threads.
“What was written in the letter?”
Only then did Do-gyeon drop his feigned anger and report to the Sect Leader.
“He wondered if Young Master Wi was doing well. It was a simple message asking to be informed of his well-being if a reply were possible.”
Since he hadn’t expected Mu-gyeong to ask about the contents, a sound from the string caught in Ho-yeon’s hand broke the brief silence.
“And… that was all, including a mention that a new child had been brought into the Eumbyeol Hall.”
Still with his head bowed, Ho-yeon’s eyes widened immensely. This was one of the codes he had established with the Palace Master.
“While leaving the Ice Palace, the Palace Master’s subordinate arrived and delivered it. I judged there would be no problem as it was merely a greeting, but as I failed to fathom the Sect Leader’s will, I shall gladly accept any punishment.”
Since he didn’t feel any emotion strong enough to warrant a punishment, Mu-gyeong had no particular intention of doing anything to Do-gyeon. His gaze remained fixed solely on Wi Ho-yeon, whose shoulder had flinched just once upon hearing the news of the letter.
“I shall send Wi Ho-yeon back to the Ice Palace.”
In an instant, Ho-yeon snapped his head up.