Chapter 72. This Year’s Young Lord

“Huh? What’s wrong with you?”

Peng Iran frowned as she approached Tang Hak.

“Why the long face? Doesn’t suit you.”

“…What’s with my face?”

Tang Hak, flustered, rubbed his own face.

Tilting her head, Peng Iran asked,

“You look so cold, even with no expression. I got excited thinking I’d finally see you get mad.”

“Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”

Unlike the teasing Peng Iran, Zhuge Ji-hwi looked at Tang Hak with serious eyes.

Tang Hak opened his mouth slightly, then quietly averted his gaze.

Following that gaze, the Young Lords turned their heads—and soon understood why Tang Hak’s expression had hardened.

A striking man and woman were sitting by the lakeside, visible even from afar. It was Tang Hak’s sister and the Young Master Namgung Hyun. The two sat alone at a large table, deep in conversation, yet oddly, a crowd had formed around them.

Peng Iran let out a dry laugh at the sight.

“Of course, everyone’s thinking the same thing.”

It looked like everyone was there to watch someone else’s romance unfold.

Unable to contain herself, Peng Iran stepped onto the bridge.

“I’ve got to get over there.”

“You want Clan Head Peng to scold you?”

“Better to get scolded by the adults. If I miss this, my future descendants will ask, ‘Grandma, what were you even doing back then?’”

“…That won’t happen.”

“No, if they’re my kids, I bet they will. They’ll think I’m pathetic for missing a chance to witness such a vivid piece of murim history.”

Zhuge Ji-hwi silently watched Peng Iran.

He held onto her sleeve to stop her, but no words of rebuttal came to mind. After all, if they were Peng Iran’s descendants, they really might say that.

Even Tang Hak, who had hesitated in front of the bridge, started walking.

“I’m going too.”

Zhuge Ji-hwi sighed and grabbed Tang Hak’s sleeve with his other hand.

“Let’s just get through this year quietly, please. For my sake, hold it in, you two.”

Tang Hak and Peng Iran whipped their heads around and glared at Zhuge Ji-hwi, eyes blazing.

“Brother, why did you have to become this year’s Young Lord?”

“Exactly! Couldn’t read the room and went and became Young Lord this year of all years.”

Zhuge Ji-hwi had nothing to say. Trying to divert their frustration, he brought up another topic.

“But those two, they just met for the first time, right? When did they get that close?”

“It’s obvious. He’s handsome, and she’s pretty. Probably fell in love at first sight. There’s already a rumor they had a secret meeting in Lady Tang’s study…”

“That’s not it! My sister’s always been into calligraphy and regularly visits the study every other day! And Young Master Namgung Hyun is famous for his fine calligraphy! They probably just ran into each other there and… talked, and… just got close from that!”

Tang Hak, flustered, stammered as he cut off Peng Iran’s wild imagination.

Zhuge Ji-hwi tilted his lips into a crooked smile.

“That’s an amusing story. Two direct descendants of martial clans bonding over literature rather than martial arts.”

Saying that, the Young Lord of the Zhuge Clan—or rather, this year’s Young Lord—let go of the two’s sleeves.

“Wah!”

“You can’t just let go like that!”

Now that they were released, Tang Hak and Peng Iran couldn’t bring themselves to move forward and simply stared at Zhuge Ji-hwi.

Zhuge Ji-hwi walked past them with a grin.

“I’m going to join them too.”

“Why?”

“Brother, if you get demoted from this year’s Young Lord to this month’s Young Lord, what will you do…”

Zhuge Ji-hwi crossed his arms, putting on a disgruntled expression.

“They say there’s a gathering of martial clans discussing poetry and calligraphy, and I’m not even included? And my handwriting isn’t something to scoff at, is it?”

Peng Iran and Tang Hak exchanged a glance and looked at Zhuge Ji-hwi with clouded eyes.

“Why are you suddenly acting out like this?”

“Must be the pressure of becoming Young Lord again after so long.”

Zhuge Ji-hwi had already crossed halfway over the bridge. Without looking back, he called out,

“If you’re coming, hurry up. I plan to have a bimu with the two of them before they rise from their seats.”

“…A bimu?”

“A bimu? But bimu is banned outside the training grounds!”

As Peng Iran and Tang Hak asked in doubtful voices, laughter came with the reply.

“I’ll show you a calligraphy bimu you’ve never seen before.”

At Zhuge Ji-hwi’s strange behavior, Peng Iran and Tang Hak turned pale and ran after him.

“There’s no such thing as a calligraphy bimu! You just made that up!”

“Brother, did you drink? Did Brother Hwang Bo Rim give you weird liquor again?”

Though the two worried over the year’s Young Lord striding ahead, Zhuge Ji-hwi’s face was full of delight.

(T/N): Bimu = refers to a duel or match where martial artists test each other’s skills, usually in a formal or respectful setting rather than a fight to the death.

***

“Thank you. I heard the Divine Physician is stopping by this evening.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It is something to me. Thanks to you, I didn’t get scolded.”

Perhaps thinking it a joke, Tang So-hwa let out a small laugh.

“That’s a relief.”

Namgung Hyun, instead of saying it was sincere, covered his heart with a smile.

After the first day’s lunch, the Namgung household’s attitude had changed.

Namgung Hyun knew well why the elders had softened toward him. The reason for their change was the woman before his eyes.

Their intentions were obvious. They were now treating him with respect in hopes of selling him off at a high price.

They weren’t merchants, yet they were greedy to make a profitable deal.

Namgung Hyun let out a silent scoff.

Even if they acted like he was a rare treasure now, the other side would clearly know his actual worth.

It was admirable in its own way, this effort to dispose of him—yet unfortunately for them, the very Namgung they so dearly clung to would eventually fall into his hands.

He wondered what kind of expressions they would wear on that day.

Most of all, he was curious if the Clan Head could still pretend to be a mountain then, as he did now.

While Namgung Hyun quietly followed his thoughts, Tang So-hwa called him.

“Young Master.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t push yourself too hard.”

Namgung Hyun turned his gaze to Tang So-hwa.

He knew it was just a coincidence, but without realizing it, he found himself listening intently to her words.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re a direct descendant of the Namgung, so you don’t need to be so cautious.”

So-hwa turned her head and looked toward a certain spot.

“You may not want to stir things up, or perhaps you’re a kind-hearted person, enduring the lowly words and actions of others… but I hope you won’t continue doing so.”

A group who had been mingling with Namgung Gangchang was glancing over at them. Watching them, So-hwa added,

“Unfortunately, not everyone has the eye to judge worth. Some get confused about rank and status, bewitched by the noise of loudmouths.”

Namgung Hyun realized what Tang So-hwa was referring to and gave a bitter smile.

“I’m ashamed. I didn’t know you understood my situation so well.”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Besides, you don’t actually feel that way, do you?”

So-hwa’s gaze, which had been on Namgung Gangchang’s group, now turned toward him.

Her lips, which had been closed for a moment, slowly parted.

“If you wish, I will help you.”

At the vague proposal, Namgung Hyun asked,

“What is it you’re offering to help with?”

“I’d like to help you reclaim your rightful place.”

As Namgung Hyun remained silent, not fully grasping the meaning of her words, a more detailed proposal spilled through her curved lips.

“Would you consider going to the Murim Alliance headquarters with me?”

Namgung Hyun let out a laugh without realizing it.

“The headquarters isn’t exactly somewhere you can just go because you want to, is it?”

“You can, Young Master. You’ve already received an invitation from the Alliance Leader, haven’t you? If you wish, I can prepare a way.”

Namgung Hyun looked at her with a doubtful gaze and spoke.

“You speak as if you already have a way.”

Tang So-hwa showed her confidence.

“I’m not someone who speaks carelessly without knowing how.”

As Namgung Hyun thought over what he might have missed, he asked the part that puzzled him.

“But why do you wish to go to the headquarters, Young lady?”

“Because I want to be with you.”

Startled by her direct answer, Namgung Hyun furrowed his brow before he realized.

“…Why do you want to be with me?”

To that question, Tang So-hwa stared straight into Namgung Hyun’s eyes, as if the answer lay within them.

“I believe you already know the reason, Young Master.”

She said so with a faint, bitter smile.

“And if you don’t… I might feel a bit disappointed.”

Her tone was calm but capable of swaying the listener’s heart.

Perhaps it wasn’t just the tone. It could be the shimmering sunlight distorting his vision, or the laughter filling the wind. Everything was clouding his mind

Namgung Hyun was quick-witted, but this time, he couldn’t come to a quick conclusion.

Just as he was escaping the strange feeling, someone cut in.

“Young Master Namgung Hyun, what exactly is it you don’t know that’s making Lady Tang disappointed?”

Zhuge Ji-hwi sat down in front of them with his usual easygoing air.

“I am Ji-hwi of the Zhuge Clan. May I join you?”

Though he was already seated, Zhuge Ji-hwi asked out of courtesy.

“How could I refuse someone who took the initiative to speak at a gathering for harmony?”

Tang So-hwa lifted the bottle beside her. At that, Namgung Hyun carefully took it from her and held it himself. With a smile, he filled Zhuge Ji-hwi’s cup in her stead.

“I heard it’s not easy to speak with the Young Lords of the Noble Clans at an Alliance gathering. It’s an honor that you came to us first.”

“Please understand. The clan heads often tell us to refrain. The young ones at these events are full of words and prone to gossip, so we’re usually discouraged from joining.”

Tang So-hwa replied to his words with a smile.

“Yet still, here you are, Young Lord.”

Her tone was gentle, but her words held thorns.

Having grown up among those who hide blades and thorns in their words, Zhuge Ji-hwi found this level of barbing only ticklish. He smiled with a long stretch of his lips and raised his cup.

“I’m not like the other Young Lords, am I?”

He offered his cup forward, as if inviting them to drink together.

“Come now, let us empty our cups with this year’s Young Lord.”

Since he himself invoked the nickname used to mock the Zhuge Clan’s heir among the Five Noble Clans, the direct descendants of the Tang and Namgung clans couldn’t offer a rebuttal.

Fortunately, Tang So-hwa and Namgung Hyun were both skilled at masking their emotions. Namgung Hyun silently filled his cup with tea, and So-hwa brought her cup to her lips with a composed face, as if she had heard nothing.

No sooner had they emptied their cups than Zhuge Ji-hwi shattered their calm expressions.

“Heh, since we’ve got plenty of time, how about a round of bimu?”

“Cough.”

The unexpected suggestion made So-hwa choke. While she cleared her throat, Zhuge Ji-hwi continued with a laugh.

“Not a serious martial duel, of course. I meant a light-hearted calligraphy bimu.”

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(T/N): I’ll be changing Young warrior Namgung to Young Master Namgung.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep