Chapter 42 : Teacup

Chapter 42: TeacupLate at night.

After finishing business, Jin Seong-un returned to his quarters. The quarters Elder Shin Mok had built for him in the backyard were satisfying no matter how many times he saw them.

As always, he heated the water, bathed, and changed into fresh clothes, ridding himself of the smell of alcohol and food that had clung to him all day.

Calm and warm air.

He sat cross-legged in the center of the room and slowly circulated the Women’s Moon Heart Method. The benevolent energy coursed through his entire body, soothing the mind and spirit that had been worn out throughout the day.

The moonlight that seeped through the window gathered around Jin Seong-un instead of scattering away. The Women’s Moon Heart Method displayed even greater effectiveness on nights when the moon shone brightly.

Silvery moonlight blended with his breaths, slowly but steadily filling his dantian.

It still felt strange that an inn with a name now existed, and even stranger that he had been able to learn martial arts from the Martial Gods of past and present.

At times, having many people gather at the inn was troublesome and noisy, but since they were mostly good people, it was bearable.

His distracting thoughts gradually disappeared.

The moment his mind sank endlessly toward a deeper state of egolessness—

Jin Seong-un quietly opened his eyes.

His gaze moved from the door to the wall, then shifted again toward the window.

“Brother Seo?”

A black shadow suddenly leapt over the wall and vanished.

The only ones in the inn were Jin Seong-un and Seo Yu-gyeom.

Jin Seong-un rose from his seat. Today, Seo Yu-gyeom’s condition had looked especially unstable, which worried him.

Throwing on his robe over light clothes, he took the Black High Sword with him.

The words of the Vice Leader came back to him. If Seo Yu-gyeom were consumed by the Heaven-Slaying Star’s murderous intent, he would slaughter and cut down everyone around him.

Jin Seong-un exhaled a long breath and spread out his senses. His perception extended like a spider’s web, tightly covering every corner of the surroundings.

…

Jin Seong-un leapt lightly out of his quarters.

Stepping on the wall, he once again propelled his body into the empty air. Rising high as though touching the moonlight, the streets of Yichang spread out before his eyes.

‘What is he doing?’

He spotted Seo Yu-gyeom.

Unfolding his distinctive Stealth Technique, Seo Yu-gyeom darted through the darkness. He was so discreet that even to Jin Seong-un’s eyes, his figure appeared only faintly.

Jin Seong-un followed at some distance. The murderous aura around Seo Yu-gyeom was gradually fading. This was not a good sign.

Like a predator holding its breath before pouncing on its prey, assassins tended to conceal their presence the closer they drew to their target.

Suddenly, Seo Yu-gyeom turned into an alley. At that very moment, his presence vanished without a trace.

Jin Seong-un quickened his pace.

When he entered the alley, Seo Yu-gyeom was standing still in the middle of the street, head lifted upward.

“Brother Seo.”

He called carefully.

But it seemed Seo Yu-gyeom could not hear him. Even in the darkness, Jin Seong-un could see that his eyes were unfocused.

Following the direction of his vacant gaze, Jin Seong-un saw a migratory bird flying low.

Suddenly, Seo Yu-gyeom sprang up the wall of a house, soaring into the air. Coincidentally, it was the very moment when the clouds covered the moonlight.

In that instant, his figure vanished into the darkness. Shortly after, the bird fell to the ground bleeding.

The Heaven-Slaying Dagger in Seo Yu-gyeom’s hand dripped with fresh blood. With a dazed expression, he stared at the blood staining his weapon.

Jin Seong-un looked at him with an unusually grave expression. If there had been someone nearby instead of the bird, would Brother Seo have stabbed them instead?

As such thoughts flickered through his mind—

Both Jin Seong-un and Seo Yu-gyeom turned their gazes simultaneously. Someone was staggering toward them from afar.

The tip of Jin Seong-un’s sword twitched.

It was No Sang-won, drunk to the core.

Seo Yu-gyeom’s hollow eyes were fixed on him.

Soon, he gripped the Heaven-Slaying Dagger firmly. The murderous aura that had faintly leaked out was once again sealed tightly within.

The moment Seo Yu-gyeom took a step forward—

Thwack!

A pebble Jin Seong-un had flicked struck his temple precisely.

With the crisp sound, Seo Yu-gyeom’s eyes regained focus.

…

Awakening from the dream, Seo Yu-gyeom looked with trembling eyes at the blood staining the Heaven-Slaying Dagger.

Beside him, a familiar voice suddenly spoke.

“It is not human blood.”

It was Jin Seong-un’s voice.

Seo Yu-gyeom felt relief yet also confusion. Recently, it had become harder and harder to control the murderous intent.

Their gazes locked. Both carried somewhat complicated feelings as they looked at each other.

“Let’s return for now.”

Jin Seong-un spoke.

By then, No Sang-won had already come close enough to be seen clearly.

Seo Yu-gyeom only nodded silently. Together, they headed back home.

“That is what happened.”

Jin Seong-un explained the events he had directly witnessed. Seo Yu-gyeom listened, distinguishing what had been dream and what had been reality.

He let out a short sigh.

It was just a bird that he had killed. But he feared where his blade might strike the next time.

“Rest for a while.”

Saying so, Jin Seong-un briefly stepped outside.

Left alone in the room, Seo Yu-gyeom wiped the dagger with a cloth. The bright red blood dyed the white fabric.

It felt as though this cloth symbolized his own life. Once stained with blood, no matter how hard one scrubbed, it could never return to pure white.

I must leave.

Seo Yu-gyeom resolved himself.

It was not an easy decision. The Seong-un Inn had become his home.

But he no longer trusted himself to restrain his murderous urges. Perhaps, if Jin Seong-un were always there as he had been today, the worst might be avoided…

Yet with even a fleeting mistake, something irreversible could occur. The Seong-un Inn was not only home to Jin Seong-un.

No Sang-won, who knew no martial arts, or Han Seong-chun, and even Seomun Ak, who had learned some martial arts—if Seo Yu-gyeom failed to resist his impulses, they would all fall to his blade.

His eyes sank with firm resolve.

Yes, this was the life he had always lived.

A life unable to settle anywhere, always yearning only for blood and slaughter.

Born with the Heaven-Slaying Star, yet trying to seize a new life. He thought it was truly an arrogant desire.

As Seo Yu-gyeom took one last look at the room and rose to his feet—

Jin Seong-un, who had stepped out, entered once more. In his hand was a teacup.

“Where are you going?”

“I was going to leave.”

Jin Seong-un nodded. If he said he wanted to go, what right did he have to stop him?

“At least have a cup of tea before you go, won’t you?”

Seo Yu-gyeom’s eyes fell on the teacup Jin Seong-un was holding.

Soon, the two sat together. There was no low table between them. They simply placed the teacup on the floor and faced each other.

Suddenly, Jin Seong-un asked,

“Can’t you control the murderous intent?”

“It seems that way. Just what have I done?”

Seo Yu-gyeom vividly remembered, in that final moment, that he had turned toward No Sang-won.

“You haven’t done anything.”

“If you weren’t there, I would have.”

“But I was.”

Their gazes locked. An impromptu staring contest ensued. Normally, Seo Yu-gyeom would have spoken first, but today was different.

“Why now, all of a sudden? Nothing like this has happened before.”

“It must be because of the Hwa-un Trading Company.”

“So it really did trouble you.”

Jin Seong-un tried to understand Seo Yu-gyeom’s heart.

Although he had no family, he knew that if someone he regarded as a sibling truly hated and sought to kill him, it would be unbearably painful.

A brief silence followed.

“Then why are you running an inn at all? With your skills, you could live far more easily and richly. You could have all the wealth and fame you wanted.”

Seo Yu-gyeom asked. Before, he had never gotten a real answer, but now he felt he might hear the truth.

Jin Seong-un answered in a calm voice.

“For the same reason as this teacup.”

“Teacup?”

Seo Yu-gyeom looked down at the cup on the floor. Inside, warm tea let out soft, white steam.

Jin Seong-un continued.

“I was an orphan. There were more days I starved than days I ate. The place that allowed me to live like a human being was the inn. A space where I didn’t have to starve or freeze. That is why I like the inn.”

A simple, yet certain reason.

The inn held food and warmth.

For Jin Seong-un, that was enough.

“Well, I’ve worked in inns all my life, so by now it’s what I’m most comfortable with.”

“I see.”

Seo Yu-gyeom listened with a serious expression. Hearing it, the inn suddenly felt different to him.

“A place where you don’t have to shiver, or starve. That’s a truly good place.”

“Yes.”

Seo Yu-gyeom glanced at the tea, then drained it in one gulp. Though it had cooled somewhat, the lingering warmth spread swiftly through his body.

“Stay for seven nights before you leave. If you still haven’t found an answer by then.”

At Jin Seong-un’s suggestion, Seo Yu-gyeom nodded. Yes, with Jin Seong-un by his side for just seven nights, nothing disastrous should happen.

The next morning.

Seo Yu-gyeom, who had not slept all night, went to work.

Recently, Seomun Ak had become unusually diligent, sweeping the inn’s floor. Their eyes met.

Seo Yu-gyeom spoke with a sullen face.

“What are you looking at, punk?”

“……”

Seomun Ak quickly averted his gaze. Knowing Seo Yu-gyeom’s skill now, and remembering he had once swung his fist at him, he had nothing to say.

With a victorious look, Seo Yu-gyeom entered the kitchen. Soon, Han Seong-chun arrived for work, and the two of them began preparing ingredients. As always, Hyeon-un entered the inn with a half-drunk face.

“Cook Seo, the usual, please.”

Normally, Seo Yu-gyeom would have clicked his tongue, muttering, ‘A Taoistst, always drinking.’ But today was different.

He personally served him noodles in a clear, rich broth he had taken great care in brewing.

“Drink the broth first—it’ll clear your stomach.”

“?”

Hyeon-un looked at him as though he had misheard.

“What’s wrong with you? Or did you finally put poison in the noodles? If so, it won’t work. I may not be immune to all poisons, but at least to a hundred, I am….”

“The Head of the Hwa-un Trading Company is my sister.”

Hyeon-un’s words stopped.

At the sudden confession, even Seomun Ak, who had been sweeping, and Han Seong-chun, who had been preparing vegetables, froze and looked at Seo Yu-gyeom.

Seo Yu-gyeom went on calmly.

“My parents died long ago, I don’t even know their faces. I was taken in by the Hwa-un Trading Company as a child….”

He laid out his life story.

A weighty tale, spoken with an oddly light tone. Hyeon-un could do nothing but listen, chopsticks untouched.

Seo Yu-gyeom finished speaking.

Only then did Hyeon-un pick up his chopsticks and say,

“A wretched life indeed.”

And that was all.

He moved to eat the noodles. At the same time, Seo Yu-gyeom pulled the bowl toward himself and said,

“So, my murderous urges keep surging. Isn’t there a way to stop it? You’re a Taoistst, you must know something.”

Hyeon-un tried to tug the bowl back, but Seo Yu-gyeom’s grip was too firm.

If he forced it, the bowl would shatter and the noodles would spill everywhere.

Seomun Ak, tasked with cleaning, watched tensely.

Their eyes locked.

Seo Yu-gyeom clearly had no intention of yielding.

After a brief standoff, Hyeon-un sighed.

“Fine. I’ve eaten enough of your food, after all….”

As he said this, Seo Yu-gyeom relaxed his grip. Hyeon-un took a sip of the broth, nodded with satisfaction, and spoke.

“First, I must know how deep your murderous intent runs.”

“I am, in fact, a Heaven-Slaying Star.”

The moment the words left his lips, Hyeon-un’s hand darted out.

In the blink of an eye, the tip of his chopsticks touched Seo Yu-gyeom’s throat. To Jin Seong-un’s surprise, the chopsticks carried a faint aura of Qi Projection.

If Hyeon-un pressed harder, Seo Yu-gyeom’s life would end instantly. Yet Seo Yu-gyeom only met his gaze with calm eyes.

At that moment, Jin Seong-un entered the inn.

Hyeon-un asked,

“Seong-un, did you know?”

“Yes.”

“Is that so?”

The chopsticks moved slightly away from his neck.

Hyeon-un’s expression grew complicated.

“Yes. I thought it wasn’t ordinary murderous intent.”

What was the Heaven-Slaying Star?

Those born stained with blood by fate.

Throughout Murim’s history, countless massacres had been wrought by Heaven-Slaying Stars.

To be precise, almost every Heaven-Slaying Star inevitably brought about bloodshed. For they were born with such a nature and destiny.

Thus, since ancient times, it was considered virtuous to kill any Heaven-Slaying Star the moment they were discovered, regardless of their age.

Hyeon-un looked at Seo Yu-gyeom and Jin Seong-un together, sinking into deep thought.

‘In this small inn, both the Heavenly Martial Body and the Heaven-Slaying Star—who will shape the course of history—are here.’

As an elder of the Wudang Sect, perhaps it was heaven’s will that he had ended up in this place.

Should his destiny be to slay the Heaven-Slaying Star, or to help this unfortunate youth?

While Hyeon-un wrestled with this, Seo Yu-gyeom spoke in an even, calm tone.

“If you’re going to kill me here, then don’t eat the noodles I made. You should at least have that much conscience.”

Hyeon-un’s eyes turned to the bowl.

Today, the broth looked especially clear and savory, more delicious than usual.