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Chapter 22
After Dang Jinmyeong led Baek Seon away, Cheonrang remained where he stood, leaning against the wall.
He wanted to follow, but—
“I-I’m going alone, so don’t follow me!”
The sight of Baek Seon’s flushed face as he hurried after Dang Jinmyeong was unbearably cute.
“Ah, I want to see that again.”
Cheonrang muttered, unable to suppress the smile creeping across his lips.
But soon enough, his expression darkened, and a sigh escaped him.
“Calm down—!”“I don’t like being stuck together every single moment.”
That resolute voice had angered him. Without thinking, he had lashed out at Baek Seon. How dare a disciple speak so sharply to his teacher, and even try to force him?
“…Will he get angry?”
No, he wished his master would get angry. Anger would mean he hadn’t been abandoned.
“Haa…”
Cheonrang dragged his hands down his face in frustration.
At some point, he had lost control over his emotions. Anger always birthed killing intent, and if he didn’t express it, his head felt like it would split apart. When he suppressed it, an inexplicable thirst gnawed away at his reason, whispering that he should kill everything before him—or take whatever he desired by force.
It had begun after he used forbidden sorcery to save Manyukang. A punishment for defying the laws of life and death, no doubt.
“But why is it… that when I think of Dang Baek Seon—”
The moment he murmured that name, his chest trembled again.
He thought the madness had subsided with just one kiss, but simply recalling that pale face brought a burning heat and unbearable impulses surging through his body.
What would it be like to see that face flush red with heat? To part those lips that had swelled from a single kiss—and force something other than a tongue inside?
He remembered how Baek Seon’s hands lost strength from just a flicker of pleasure.
Then what if he gave him something far greater—
Cheonrang suddenly came to himself, clenched his fist, and struck his own cheek.
Smack!
The sharp pain seared one side of his face, but the heat within refused to dissipate.
“…You’re insane.”
This couldn’t go on.
If his impure thoughts were discovered, Baek Seon would surely despise him. For so long, Cheonrang had only ever been the obedient, pure disciple to Manyugang.
He forced himself to breathe deeply, wiping away sweat that poured like rain.
After a long while of standing dazed against the wall, he noticed a servant hurrying back. The very one who had left with Baek Seon earlier.
“You.”
“Eeek!”
The servant flinched at Cheonrang’s beastlike voice.
“You left with Dang Baek Seon. Why are you alone?”
“T-that is…”
“Speak. Unless you want to die.”
The cold, murderous voice made the servant stammer.
“Th-the young master received orders from the clan head. He was sent on an errand.”
“Where?”
“I can’t say—”
Cheonrang instantly grabbed the servant by the collar. His eyes threatened death itself until the servant, trembling, finally confessed:
“To the… to the Dang family’s tombs!”
“…”
“He only went to pay respects to the elders! He’ll be back soon!”
“Lead me there.”
The harsh command left the servant stricken.
Pushing through the undergrowth, Cheonrang frowned at the grim atmosphere.
“…They built the Dang clan’s shrine in a place like this?”
The air reeked of filth.
When he turned to look for the servant, the coward had already bolted back down the mountain path.
“I can’t even kill him.”
Killing a man wasn’t the problem—only that he belonged to the Tang clan.
“If I touched him, Master would be troubled. Since right now, I’m inside Dang Baek Seon’s body.”
The words slipped out before Cheonrang realized he was picturing Manyugang again. He shook his head violently and pressed onward, following the ominous qi.
The deeper he went, the more corpses littered the path. Some pierced by throwing weapons, others strangled by invisible force.
And all of them were—
“The Demonic Sect…”
Those his master despised above all.
“Don’t tell me…”
Was Baek Seon, with his frail body, fighting them all alone?
“No. He could die. Like before.”
“Master…”
Cheonrang’s steps quickened until he was running, calling out desperately—but no reply came.
“Damn it, Dang Baek Seon!”
If only he could sense the faintest trace, even a whisper.
At last, straining his senses, he caught the murmur of a voice nearby.
“Dang Baek Seon?”
It was faint, but coherent. He wasn’t dead, at least.
Cheonrang rushed toward the sound—only to freeze.
There, Baek Seon lay in Manyugang’s arms.
“Mas—”
He tried to call out Master, but no words came.
Perhaps it was because Manyugang’s eyes were cold as ice. Or because the aura surrounding him felt utterly unlike the man he knew.
“Ah. I expected you’d come, but you were slower than I thought.”
Different. Completely different.
“It must be hard, traveling with such a moth drawn to flames.”
Even the way he spoke.
“Don’t misunderstand. The young master is only asleep. I didn’t harm him.”
Even his gaze.
“Here. Take him.”
And the way he erased his presence entirely, wearing an unreadable expression. This was not the Manyugang Cheonrang knew.
“Mas—”
“You’d better not finish that word.”
Cutting him off, Manyugang stepped forward in a blink and placed the slumbering Baek Seon into Cheonrang’s arms.
“Confused, aren’t you?”
Cheonrang swallowed dryly, unable to answer.
‘This is…’
The man before him was his master. Yet somehow, it felt like an entirely different being.
It had been the same before—when he couldn’t bring himself to call out Master, no matter how much he wanted to.
“How…”
His lips trembled with countless questions.
Why had he died that day? Why hadn’t he answered the summons of the Heavenly Demon Sound? Who exactly was this Baek Seon who so closely resembled him?
But Cheonrang could not ask. He feared that if he did, something vital would shatter forever.
“Wise of you. If you’re not certain, don’t voice it. Believe only what you can see with your own eyes.”
Manyugang tapped a finger against Cheonrang’s chest.
“This. Believe in this.”
Then his gaze softened briefly as he looked at Baek Seon.
“I’ll be waiting.”
With that cryptic remark, he turned away and disappeared, without sparing Cheonrang another glance.
As if Cheonrang were nothing at all.
