We never drink until we’re completely wasted. Being drunk ans you’re asking to die at the hands of your enemies. The sa went for Yeo Un-byeok, so we stopped after drinking moderately.
I looked Yeo Un-byeok in the eyes and said,
“Master Yeo, I’d be fine with us parting ways here and never seeing each other again—living our lives without any trouble.”
Yeo Un-byeok nodded.
“That wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”
“But if a truly peaceful ti does co, let’s share a drink again like today.”
We exchanged glances and nodded once to seal the promise.
Yeo Un-byeok said,
“I’ll send the Muga Sword as promised. I’ll have it delivered to Yongdu Cheolbang, so confirm it there.”
The Drunk nodded.
“Got it.”
I went to Jomsoi and paid the tab. Maybe he was getting used to my face and na now—he looked a little less nervous than before as he bid farewell.
“Take care, Pavilion Lord.”
I gave him a slight nod, then parted ways with Yeo Un-byeok. I walked through the streets of Muga, now returned to their ordinary routine, alongside these villains. From ti to ti, I exchanged brief bows with passersby who made eye contact.
Only after we’d left the street behind did the Drunk speak up.
“Never thought I’d get my hands on such a fine sword. Life really is unpredictable. I was hoping for a big fight, though.”
The Lecher seed more interested in the martial prowess of scholars than in sentint.
“How does Master Yeo’s skill compare to the Blind Scholar—the one our third brother killed?”
It wasn’t a question I could answer precisely.
“I’ve never fought him, so I don’t know. They give off a similar feeling. But if a real fight broke out, Master Yeo probably would’ve been in serious trouble.”
“Why?”
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