The Art of Divorce (2)
“As always.”
Seong Wangbo replied with a smile, acknowledging the old man’s suspicion that the message had come from them.
Before falling asleep, the man in the cave had told the old man that they had been in contact.
“What is it this time?”
“They’re feeling uneasy.”
“About what, exactly?”
The old man didn’t bother to hide his discomfort.
In contrast, Seong Wangbo continued calmly, as if he were merely a messenger.
“I heard they suffered significant losses in the fight against Galsaryang.”
“That’s like taking a few buckets of water from a well.”
“Aren’t they the kind who believe that if you keep drawing from a well, it will eventually run dry? They’re people who think money is everything. Even if they could buy youth, they wouldn’t because they find it too costly.”
After a brief pause, the old man asked, “Is that what you think too?”
Seong Wangbo was the one responsible for managing the organization’s funds. His role was as crucial as his position within the organization.
The old man and Seong Wangbo had different perspectives.
For instance, if subordinates died, to the old man, it was literally a loss of life, but to Seong Wangbo, it was money flying away.
“Of course not. I’m just an old man who manages money. I don’t make judgments.”
There was no trace of malice in Seong Wangbo’s broad smile.
The old man knew that the seemingly kind face, which revealed nothing of his true intentions, was what had made Seong Wangbo one of the wealthiest men in the land.
“Go back and tell them to stop meddling in my affairs.”
In the martial world, sometimes you have to be firm. If you live as if you’re watering down wine or diluting water, your opponent will mix poison into the water and wine.
“They consider this matter their own, not just yours.”
The old man looked at Seong Wangbo and asked, “Yes, I acknowledge that their influence has been significant in getting us this far. And it was you who introduced them, so I suppose I owe you.”
“You’re too kind.”
“Then let me ask you one thing. Whose side are you on? Mine or theirs?”
Seong Wangbo answered with a mysterious smile, “I’m on both sides.”
“Being on both sides means you’re on no one’s side.”
Seong Wangbo didn’t deny the old man’s words.
“Go and tell them there’s no problem on this end.”
“They want a definite answer.”
“Just relay my words.”
When the old man spoke decisively, Seong Wangbo didn’t press further.
“Yes, I will. Until next time.”
As Seong Wangbo walked away, he turned back as if he had to ask one last question.
“What are you really thinking?”
Seong Wangbo could sense a significant change in the old man. The old man now was different from when all this began. He was plotting something, something very dangerous, Seong Wangbo felt.
The old man spoke calmly, “You’ve asked the wrong question. The right answer comes from the right question.”
Their gazes met, deep and probing.
“I’ll come with the right question next time.”
The campfire crackled, lighting up the darkness.
Gathered around it were Galsaryang, Song Hwarin, Gwangdu, and Suran.
This was the estate on the island. With the formations surrounding it, it was the safest estate in the martial world. Moreover, it was a secluded place known to very few.
Today, Song Hwarin had been diligently learning about the formations.
And there was nothing like a drink by the campfire to wash away the day’s fatigue.
“Thanks to you, I’ve learned so much.”
Song Hwarin was genuinely grateful to Galsaryang. What she was learning wasn’t just about formations.
Galsaryang taught her not only about formations but also various ways to survive in the martial world.
Never to drink or eat anything from strangers, how to use a silver needle to detect poison, the expressions people make when lying, how assassins attempt to kill, and how information networks in the martial world leave marks to communicate, among other things.
To Galsaryang, all three were precious guests, but Song Hwarin was especially so. She was the fiancée of Byeokridan, to whom she had pledged her loyalty.
Of course, there were rumors of a broken engagement, and it didn’t seem like they would marry anytime soon.
But bringing her to this island showed that he didn’t take his connection with her lightly.
So whenever he had the chance to talk with her like this, he wanted to teach her as much as possible.
Song Hwarin and Gwangdu also held great respect and affection for Galsaryang. He was the chief strategist of the Martial Alliance and had pledged to serve Byeokridan.
In terms of work, Galsaryang was perhaps the most important person to Byeokridan.
Initially, they thought Galsaryang would be a difficult person, but he was kinder and more approachable than expected.
This gathering was possible because of the mutual respect and goodwill they shared.
Song Hwarin emptied her cup. The drink went down smoothly, perhaps because she was in a good mood, or maybe it was because of longing.
Looking at the stars, she thought of Byeokridan. Even now, he was risking his life to save a woman and a child.
What must it feel like for a parent to lose a child?
She couldn’t even imagine.
Thoughts of death and farewell naturally surfaced in her mind.
“Saying goodbye to someone is truly a sad thing.”
Gwangdu was startled by Song Hwarin’s words.
“How did you know?”
“Pardon?”
She had meant it in a different context, but Gwangdu misunderstood, thinking she knew about his situation.
“Ah, like a blabbermouth! Yes, other people’s misfortune is our joy. I never thought she’d cheat like that. Women are really terrible!”
A moment of silence followed.
Song Hwarin couldn’t hide her surprise.
”… So that’s why you broke up.”
Gwangdu flinched.
“Oh… you didn’t know?”
Song Hwarin, Suran, and even Galsaryang nodded.
Gwangdu hung his head low.
”… I guess she left because of my thoughtlessness.”
Then Suran, sitting next to him, suddenly raised her glass.
“Forget about her, that wretched woman!”
Startled by the unexpected reaction, Gwangdu clinked his glass with hers.
The two emptied their glasses.
Gwangdu had always thought Suran had no interest in him, perhaps even looked down on him a bit. But her gesture of clinking glasses in comfort made him feel unexpectedly grateful.
Watching the two exchange drinks, Song Hwarin smiled. Suran sometimes showed this side of herself. Though usually reserved, she couldn’t hide her warm heart.
Then Galsaryang quietly asked her, “Are you worried about your lord?”
“Yes. I think he’ll be fine, but then I worry again. I think everything will be okay, but then I have these nagging thoughts.”
She confessed her honest feelings.
“I feel the same way.”
“Really?”
She thought he was just saying it, but Galsaryang spoke sincerely.
“No, really. I’m probably just as worried as you are.”
“You didn’t show it at all, so I didn’t know. You’re amazing.”
“Is that really amazing?”
“Pardon?”
“Is it amazing not to show emotions? I just think it’s a sign of getting older.”
Galsaryang expressed regret, but it wasn’t a gloomy sentiment.
“Don’t hide your feelings. When you look back, you’ll say, ‘Those were the good times,’ and that time is now, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I will. Thank you, strategist.”
Song Hwarin looked up at the night sky.
Yes, her ‘good times’ were right now.
Six hours had passed since the ritual began.
Im Yeonjeong and Jeongso were following the book’s instructions to the letter.
The devices worked tirelessly, and Im Yeonjeong and Jeongso moved between the two children, conducting the ritual.
Im Yeonjeong thought her hands would tremble too much to do anything, given it was her son’s ritual, but surprisingly, she didn’t make a single mistake.
She found strength. This situation had too many variables, even from her perspective. She needed to minimize the variables in her own task.
If she trusted Byeokridan, she had to focus on her work.
The fortunate thing was that the ritual itself was perfect. As the five previous successes had shown, following the book’s instructions posed no problems.
“Whew, let’s take a break.”
Jeongso sat down to rest.
But Im Yeonjeong went to the bedside where the children lay.
Jeongso cursed her inwardly.
“Damn it. Does she think I’m heartless?”
But that feeling was fleeting. He was busy memorizing the ritual so far. He dreamed that if he could memorize this ritual perfectly, he could live without worries for the rest of his life.
“What was next?”
But the ritual was becoming increasingly complex, and memorizing it was becoming more challenging.
The two children’s bodies were covered with dozens of needles.
Im Yeonjeong’s eyes, watching them, were filled with deep affection.
“Son, you have to be strong. Mom is here with you. That person will save you. So please, be strong.”
Except for the two conducting the ritual, Ilho and Chilho were put to sleep with a sedative. To conceal that we were on the same side, Chilho was also put to sleep. In this tedious time, it might be better to sleep soundly than to stay awake.
Cheonsoseon and I sat side by side, watching the ritual unfold.
We exchanged a few words, then fell silent, then spoke again, and fell silent once more.
That’s how we passed the time. I tried to learn about the organization through him, but he didn’t reveal any secrets. I didn’t pressure him, especially not during this crucial ritual.
Cheonsoseon suddenly asked, “Who taught you martial arts?”
“Who taught you that? Should I give them an award? Or maybe kill them?”
“I’ve never heard of such incredible martial arts. Well, except for one person.”
“Cheon Hwa-jin?”
“You know your stuff.”
“I’ve heard it a few times. But even if Cheon Hwa-jin came back to life, he wouldn’t beat me.”
Cheon So-seon chuckled softly.
“What’s so funny?”
“You speak as if you don’t know how strong Cheon Hwa-jin really was.”
“You seem to know a lot about him.”
“I do.”
“Care to share? This trial is dragging on, and we’re running out of time. Besides, it’s just a story about a dead man, isn’t it?”
Honestly, when I asked, I never expected the answer I got.
“We spent a long time trying to kill Cheon Hwa-jin.”
I was taken aback but kept my composure.
“A long time? How long?”
“Long enough.”
Could it be that these people were the ones who killed me?
“We used every poison imaginable, but he wouldn’t die. Even the assassins we sent never returned.”
“Did Cheon Hwa-jin ever find out about your organization?”
“He didn’t. Not until the moment he died.”
“How could he not know?”
“We were meticulous. We made every attack look like it came from the demonic cults or rogue factions. After he unified the martial world, we disguised it as internal power struggles within the alliance.”
Ah! Now it all made sense. Many of those assassination attempts were their doing.
Damn them! No wonder there were so many attacks.
“So how did you finally kill Cheon Hwa-jin? You did kill him, right?”
Cheon So-seon didn’t answer immediately. I waited patiently, knowing that pressing him would only make him less likely to talk. People tend to clam up when rushed.
My heart pounded in the silence. I was desperate to know how I had died.
Finally, Cheon So-seon spoke, and what he said was more shocking than their efforts to kill me.
“We weren’t the ones who killed Cheon Hwa-jin.”
What? Not them?
I almost shouted in disbelief but managed to keep my voice calm and casual.
“Then who did?”
“I don’t know.”
Cheon So-seon didn’t seem to be lying. Of course, he could be, or he might be misinformed.
But if he was telling the truth, then who on earth killed me?