WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 128: The Rear Waves of the Yangtze Push the Front Waves (2)
──────
Yeon Sowol's days had not changed much.
He cultivated at dawn anyway. It wasn't as though Moyong Ha had visited every time he finished cultivating, washed up, and caught his breath.
Nothing was especially different when he went downstairs for breakfast either. They hadn't always eaten together.
During the day. At night.
There had always been more days without Moyong Ha than days with her.
Nothing had changed much, and nothing would.
The sun still rose and set.
The stars still glittered.
The autumn leaves were red.
People still laughed.
So why did he feel this empty?
As if he'd lost an arm or a leg.
As he quietly considered it, Yeon Sowol realized.
“Ah.”
Something really had been cut away.
A future that might have come to pass.
A possibility he might have chosen.
A life that had stretched before him in the flow of time, cut away in its entirety.
I had been cut away.
Yeon Sowol gathered the tangled mess in his heart and tried to give it a name.
This feeling.
This moment.
All of it.
This was...
“Resentment.”
Yeon Sowol knew exactly what he had to do.
* * *
The night over Dongting Lake grew dark and chilly as autumn deepened.
Yet Yeon Sowol still couldn't understand.
‘Why?’
Moyong Ha was dead.
‘Who could have done it?’
Who in all of Yuezhou could have caught her?
Moyong Ha's lightness art was as nimble and covert as a bird in flight. As far as Yeon Sowol could tell, no one in Yuezhou, even among all the peak-realm masters, could have caught her.
That was why he'd believed that even if the worst happened, Moyong Ha would at least be able to get herself away.
But... why?
Her corpse didn't even show signs that she'd put up much of a fight.
That led to his second question.
‘How did no one notice anything?’
Even if peak-realm masters had formed an encirclement and captured Moyong Ha, it still made no sense. She wouldn't have simply let herself be killed. Martial force waves should have erupted, qi should have churned, and every martial artist in Yuezhou should have known something was wrong.
Yet Moyong Ha had simply washed ashore dead one day. Without wounds. Without any warning.
Poison?
An assassin?
Had she fallen victim to something like that?
He didn't know.
Moyong Jun had carried off her body as if he'd been waiting for it.
But to begin with...
‘What did Ha find at the government office...?’
Why had she lied to everyone?
Why had she gone to Dongting Lake alone?
What was there?
‘Was the culprit really Yuezhou's provincial governor...?’
His thoughts boiled, but he had no clues. He couldn't be certain of anything. His grief and anger had lost their way, prowling through his chest with low growls.
Yeon Sowol couldn't sleep.
Then something suddenly came to him.
‘The diary!’
He hurried to the little forest by Dongting Lake. Finding the stone he'd seen that day, he flipped it over.
“...”
Moyong Ha's diary, which she had kept ever since coming to Yuezhou.
Yeon Sowol already knew the final words written there.
- I became friends with Yeon Sowol, the young alliance leader of the Guangdong Martial Alliance. He was the first friend to comfort me in the Central Plains.
Gulp.
Yeon Sowol swallowed. His eyes reddened slightly.
Still, he held it in. He quietly stared at the writing.
The letters had been carved with perfectly controlled, delicate sword qi. It was so fine that it made him remember thinking that if someone were cut by that sword qi, they might not even realize it. The wound might remain no more than a hairline crack.
Yeon Sowol silently took it all in, then returned the stone to its place.
There were no clues. There had been no entries after that day's record.
Another trail cut off.
But.
“It has to be here.”
Yeon Sowol bared his teeth.
He raised his head and looked at the forest, then at the shore of Dongting Lake stretching into the distance.
“There has to be another one somewhere around here.”
Had Moyong Ha stopped keeping a diary after that day?
No. That couldn't be it. A person's habits didn't change so easily. Whether she'd been embarrassed or had some other reason, she must have changed the stone she used as a diary.
Yeon Sowol recalled what Moyong Ha had told him, the standards she used to choose a stone for her diary.
“A completely unremarkable, useless stone.”
Still, it had to be large and heavy enough to stay in one place.
Tap!
Fallen leaves scattered beneath Yeon Sowol's feet.
He searched carefully, one by one. Without passing over a single stone, he began turning over every one that met the conditions, until he found words delicately carved beneath them with refined sword qi.
He searched the entire forest.
Then he ran along the lakeshore, searching every last one.
Whether there were a hundred stones or a thousand, he had no intention of stopping. It had to be there.
And if it was, he would find it.
Whoosh! Whooosh!
Heat haze rose from his entire body. He trampled the ground and launched himself forward, even releasing martial force. Windborne Drift, pushed to its limit, stirred up the wind, while every step of Willow Leaf Steps sent him sharply changing direction like a falling leaf.
Even pausing briefly felt wasteful. Whenever he found a stone, he struck it with his scabbard and sent it flying, swiftly scanning its underside as it passed by.
Tap! Thwack!
Whoosh! Whooosh!
He covered every inch of the area without leaving a gap, never once thinking to wipe away the sweat dripping from him.
The night came to an end.
Dawn broke.
By the time the sun rose over Dongting Lake...
“Found it.”
Yeon Sowol carefully caught a heavy stone.
He ran his fingertips over its underside, rough with neatly carved letters.
The diary entries following Moyong Ha's meeting with Yeon Sowol continued one after another.
Yeon Sowol as seen through Moyong Ha's eyes.
The White-Robed League's exploits. The excitement of the martial arts tournament.
Her thoughts on Yeon Sowol's sword as it grew day by day.
Her everyday life, and countless other reflections.
A fiendish demon and a Strange Ghost.
Fragmentary clues left in only a few words.
“...”
Yeon Sowol's hand began to tremble as his gaze reached the final entries.
- Yuezhou's provincial governor intends to do something at Dongting Lake for the Mid-Autumn Festival. It is as though nothing will matter once that day has passed, and he is pushing himself too hard.
- There is something in Dongting Lake. Perhaps something far more powerful than I expected. A monster or a Strange Ghost. A demon or a ghost.
- Honestly, I'm afraid. What could be there? This might be my end. Still. Still... For some reason, what Sowol said to me that day puts me at ease.
Yeon Sowol's brow twitched.
“What I said...?”
What could she mean?
After thinking about it for a moment, he shook his head.
This wasn't the time.
He swallowed the pain in his chest and fixed the new clues in his mind.
Yuezhou's provincial governor.
Monsters, demons, Strange Ghosts, and ghosts.
Dongting Lake.
The Mid-Autumn Festival.
There were still far too many things he didn't know.
For now, this was enough.
“Provincial governor. Monsters, demons, Strange Ghosts, and ghosts. Dongting Lake. Mid-Autumn Festival.”
With the rising sun reflected in them, Yeon Sowol's eyes gleamed.
At last, his wandering grief and anger had found a target.
* * *
Breakfast time.
Everyone had gathered.
No one had said they should, yet they were all there.
Jin Geol, Won Huiseung, and So Hye, along with Namgung Ujin, Hwangbo Hwi, and even Ha Jeop, picked at their food.
They sat around the table together, but no one spoke.
Jin Geol was so lost in thought that he barely moved his chopsticks.
Won Huiseung, on the other hand, ate with astonishing aggression. It seemed he'd been swinging his sword until moments ago, because heat still poured from his body even after washing.
So Hye kept her head lowered and chewed each mouthful of rice thoroughly. Without any side dishes. Her entire body gave off the feeling that no one should talk to her.
She'd even curled herself up, which made Yeon Sowol feel sorry for her. He placed a piece of duck meat in her bowl.
“You should eat some side dishes too.”
“...”
So Hye looked up at Yeon Sowol.
Her eyes welled with tears, and her lips pushed into a pout.
Then she lowered her head again, put the duck into her mouth with a strangely sulky motion, and chewed it hard.
Yeon Sowol added several more side dishes to her bowl.
Each time, So Hye glared at him through teary eyes, then chewed them down fiercely.
Ha Jeop kept glancing around at everyone's reactions. When Yeon Sowol scolded him, he ate a few bites, only to start looking around again.
They were nearly done eating when Namgung Ujin, who had spent the entire meal staring blankly at his food, suddenly widened his eyes.
He glared at Yeon Sowol.
“So what, are we just going to sit here? This was Yuezhou's provincial governor, wasn't it? Who else could have done that to Lady Moyong? That bastard. Are you really going to let him go?”
He'd discarded his usual formal speech and growled in casual language.
Won Huiseung cut in, speaking casually as well.
“Are you insane? What, you want to cut off Yuezhou's provincial governor's head without evidence? An official appointed by the Son of Heaven? That's treason. Even the Namgung Family couldn't bear the consequences of treason.”
“So what?! As long as no one finds out, it'll be fine! As long as no one finds out!”
“Enough. We don't even have proof that Yuezhou's provincial governor is behind this. Do you think no one else is angry or grieving? This is exactly when we need to stay calm. You're not the only one who's angry and grieving.”
“You little...”
Crash!
Namgung Ujin rose, knocking his chair backward.
Won Huiseung stood as well, his eyes shining. He almost seemed glad for the chance, as if trading blows would finally satisfy him.
The moment both reached for their sword hilts...
“Enough.”
Yeon Sowol's voice rang out.
It was quiet.
Still, Namgung Ujin and Won Huiseung flinched and looked at him. Their hands, which had hovered near their sword hilts, dropped awkwardly.
Without even looking at them, Yeon Sowol put stir-fried vegetables into So Hye's bowl and said,
“It was Yuezhou's provincial governor.”
Namgung Ujin brightened.
“Right? I told you it was Yuezhou's provincial governor. Who else could it be?”
“...Do you have evidence?”
Won Huiseung looked puzzled.
Yeon Sowol set down his chopsticks, bent over, and pulled out what he had placed by his feet.
Thud!
Moyong Ha's diary, which he'd found after searching all night.
The heavy stone rattled as it settled on the table.
“This is...”
Everyone surged to their feet and gathered around the stone.
It was the record left behind by a woman they had cherished.
“Lady Moyong...”
“Big sister...”
Choked voices fell one after another.
Their gazes lingered especially long over the sections that mentioned their names, though none of them had been written about as much as Yeon Sowol.
In the end, everyone's eyes gathered on the final part of the diary.
The clues.
“Yuezhou's provincial governor. Monsters, demons, Strange Ghosts, and ghosts. Dongting Lake. Mid-Autumn Festival.”
Silence.
No one said it aloud, but they all felt the same thing.
This was enough.
Yuezhou's provincial governor was the culprit.
They didn't know what the fiendish demon and Strange Ghost were, but...
Only uneven breathing could be heard before Won Huiseung broke the silence.
“Then what are you going to do? Are you really planning to assassinate him?”
Yeon Sowol shook his head.
He thought of Moyong Jun.
Even now, he couldn't understand it. Why had Moyong Jun come to Yuezhou? Had he really come only to collect Moyong Ha's body?
The more Yeon Sowol thought about it, the more irritated he became.
But...
‘What he said then did make sense.’
⌜If you truly must do it, make sure everyone knows. Make sure everyone in Yuezhou learns the wicked secret. That way, you won't be the only one left holding the blame.⌟
There was a way to deal with Yuezhou's provincial governor without committing treason.
First, reveal to the entire world that Yuezhou's provincial governor was already guilty of treason, or something even worse.
Yeon Sowol spoke.
“We'll do it publicly. Very publicly.”
Namgung Ujin drew a rough breath.
“How?”
“For now.”
Yeon Sowol reached out and touched Moyong Ha's diary before answering.
“We need to finish the martial arts tournament.”
They would bring that great festival, where countless people participated, wept, laughed, and showed intense interest, to a close.
In the way they needed.
Footnotes:
Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried
