For a moment, the assassin forgot how to speak.
Had he misheard? The lips that had just uttered the word buttocks curved into a faint smile directed at him.
“If you write ‘I am a pathetic assassin’ with your butt, I’ll let you live.”
So he hadn’t misheard. The assassin with his eyes bloodshot, shouted furiously.
“Don’t mock me—just kill me with one strike!”
But the reply didn’t come from Namgung Soyou’s mouth. It came from someone behind him.
“Hah. A mere assassin dared to talk about mockery? Ridiculous bastard.”
With a rough motion, a man grabbed the assassin by the neck and jerked his face toward him. The one glaring at him with a fierce expression was none other than the servant who had been driving Namgung Soyou’s carriage.
“Enough nonsense. Just answer the question. Who sent you? Was it Namgung Jeokmyeong?”
The servant’s calloused fingers pressed firmly on a pressure point, sharp and precise.
So this servant isn’t just some regular guard…
It seemed he’d really stepped in it this time. The assassin let out a bitter smile.
“Threaten me all you like—it’s useless. I’ve had a gu implanted in me. The moment I speak the answer you want, I’ll drop dead.”
“Gu?”
A “gu” was a parasitic insect that lived inside the human body, capable of torturing or killing its host at the command of its master. Difficult to obtain and even harder to control, it was the kind of thing only the most ruthless sects would dare to use—or could.
The servant scowled, grinding his teeth at the cruel method. He looked back at Namgung Soyou and sighed.
“Phew… I can’t believe how unlucky we are, young lady. This isn’t just bad luck, it’s spectacularly cursed. Sending an assassin after your own half-sister, who you haven’t even spoken to since adulthood? What kind of depraved family does that?”
“Mind your words, Seol Yeong. He hasn’t spoken Namgung Jeokmyeong’s name aloud yet.”
It seemed they suspected Namgung Jeokmyeong to be the one who ordered the assassination.
Namgung Jeokmyeong.
The heir of the Namgung Clan, he was the most skilled martial artist among the family’s three direct-line brothers. Renowned for both virtue and reputation, he stood out even among the most prominent swordsmen of the younger generation.
But that was all in the past.
The current Namgung Jeokmyeong was nothing but a woman-chasing drunkard.
And they think that kind of man plotted this?
He must be a real piece of trash. But in truth, the assassin didn’t know who had issued the order. He had only been hired to kill Namgung Soyou.
“We should descend the mountain before it gets too late, young lady. I’ll handle this, so please return to the carriage and rest.”
“No need to rush. A proper young lady of a noble clan always keeps her word.”
“There she goes again with the noble young lady act…”
Namgung Soyou smiled faintly and locked eyes with the assassin once more.
“Buttocks.”
That cursed word again…
“Did you forget? If you write ‘I am a pathetic assassin’ with your butt, I’ll let you live.”
The assassin was truly at a loss. Her words were pure madness.
Who… what exactly is this woman?
Did she learn swordsmanship after being cast out? If so, who taught her? And how could someone said to be blind see this clearly?
No—maybe it had all been wrong from the start. Was she even Namgung Soyou at all?
At that moment, she raised three fingers.
“Three.”
Then she lowered one.
“Two.”
At last, only her index finger remained.
“One.”
…Damn it!
So this is what the instinct to survive looked like—pathetic, shameful, and undeniable.
Unable to resist the threat, the assassin shot to his feet and turned, sticking out his backside in the direction Namgung Soyou had indicated.
Clenching his teeth, he began—slowly and awkwardly—wiggling his hips, as if to “write” the phrase I am a pathetic assassin.
Having somehow survived that humiliation, he forced his expression into a stoic mask and looked back at her.
“Satisfied?”
But her answer was merciless.
“Not good enough.”
“…What?”
“Lacking in confidence. Lacking in pride. Lacking in precision. Lacking in speed. Lacking in form.”
As she folded her thumb, index, middle, ring, and pinky fingers in order, Namgung Soyou wore a deeply serious expression.
“That’s four deficiencies. I sentence you to burial. Yeong-ah, dig a hole and bury him. Leave the head out so he can still breathe.”
She even got the count wrong. That was five.
Clearly five.
“Sigh… I told you to just leave it to me. Digging a hole and all—what a hassle. Honestly, young lady…”
Grumbling all the while, the servant knelt down and began to dig into the ground.
The blatant mockery made the assassin’s neck flush red with shame.
“What the hell is this?!”
But his enraged shout never reached the heavens. In the next instant, with the sharp precision of a struck pressure point, his body collapsed sideways.
That… point-sealing technique…
The world went dark in an instant…
“Huff!”
How much time had passed?
As the light returned to his darkened world, the assassin began to flail, trying to lift himself up.
No—he tried to.
“W-what… what is this…?”
Unless he was mistaken, his view was oddly low to the ground.
He was speechless. Everything except his head had been buried in the dirt!
Desperately twisting his unmoving limbs, he shouted in rage.
“W-what kind of absurdity is this?! I did exactly what you told me! How can you break your promise so easily—aren’t you ashamed to bear the Namgung name?!”
Tuk, tuk.
As Seol Yeong tamped down the dirt around the assassin’s head with the tip of his boot, he spoke in a voice dripping with annoyance.
“Absurdity, my ass. What kind of promise do you think anyone owes a damn assassin? The fool is the one who believed it.”
“Shut up! Just kill me already!”
“You think I want to let you live? The lady’s being merciful. So how about you shut up and be grateful.”
Then he stuffed a handful of dirt into the assassin’s mouth.
By the time the assassin had spit it all out, Namgung Soyou and Seol Yeong were already walking back to the carriage.
The assassin moistened his dry tongue and shouted with all his might.
“Namgung Soyou! If you leave me alive, you’ll regret it! I swear it!”
With her back turned to him, Namgung Soyou began to hum as if singing a tune.
“One day, Emperor Wu of Liang said to Bodhidharma, with no small amount of pride…”
“You think you can escape us?! We’re not just one—we are ten, a hundred! Let me live, and I’ll expose who you truly are to the world! The greatest assassins under heaven will come for you!”
There was fear in his voice now.
His limbs wouldn’t move. No matter how he struggled, the packed dirt around him was as solid as stone. Left like this in the mountains, he would surely starve to death.
“I built temples, compiled sutras, and supported monks… Surely the merit I’ve earned must be great?”
In short, if he was going to die, he’d rather it be by her sword.
“It won’t be just you. Your family will die, your kin will die, your friends and even your servant will be slaughtered! Kill me now, Namgung Soyou! If you leave me like this, you’ll be the one who destroys everyone you love!”
“And Bodhidharma replied…”
The carriage door closed gently. Namgung Soyou’s voice faded into the drifting mountain mist. Breathing heavily, eyes red, the assassin spat out blood as he screamed.
“Keep your neck clean and wait, Namgung Soyou! I’ll claw my way out of hell just to hunt you down!”
The carriage door burst open again.
Startled, he looked up.
Namgung Soyou’s small face peeked through the opening.
“And Bodhidharma replied…”
“……”
“Bring me tanghulu on your way back.”
And just like that, the carriage glided down the mountain, light as a dance.
As dusk settled—
Seol Yeong pulled his coat tighter and guided the horse forward. He glanced toward Namgung Soyou and asked, “Why did you spare him, my lady?”
The answer came only after a long pause.
“Emperor Wu once said—”
“Okay, enough! Every time you want to avoid a real answer, it’s that same damn Bodhidharma story again. I’m afraid he’ll rise from his grave and come after us!”
At the soft laughter coming from behind him, Seol Yeong shook his head.
No matter how well one might know the depths of a river, Namgung Soyou—no, Yeo Il, the woman he followed—was always impossible to read.
He had pledged himself to serve Yeo Il as his master, but now and then, he genuinely wondered what went on in her head.
Especially that day she suddenly declared she would become Namgung Soyou.
“This mist reminds me of tanghulu, Yeong-ah. That strange, bittersweet flavor…”
“Does it? Now that you mention it, it was all because of that tanghulu a month ago that we crossed Cheonju Mountain. Who would’ve thought a single snack would land me playing a Namgung servant?”
Yeo Il laughed again.
That memory still lingered so vividly in her mind, as if it had happened just yesterday. As Seol Yeong said, her absurd decision to pose as a daughter of the Namgung Clan had begun just one month ago—because of tanghulu, as they crossed Cheonju Mountain.
No. To be more precise…
It had begun four years ago—
When she betrayed the assassin guild that once terrorized the Central Plains.
