CHAPTER 40: SOAKED IN SUSPICION

Back To Dan Yuseong’s POV

Phew, I forgot about that.

I’d even overlooked my own fabricated backstory. The one where I drowned my sorrows in liquor to escape the agony of betrayal by a woman I’d trusted. Her unexpected apology had caught me off guard, but I recovered quickly, tossing out a hasty reassurance to smooth things over.

’Did I mess up saying the wound’s healed?’

My intent had been pure—to ease her discomfort and keep the fragile peace between us. After all, alienating her now would make the rest of this journey unbearable. But it carried risks. If the "scar" was truly mended, what justified my endless tavern crawls?

’Oh, I’ll just say it’s a habit now.’

I wasn’t certain if this world acknowledged something like alcoholism as a concept, but claiming an unbreakable dependency on booze seemed foolproof. Who would challenge a man’s word on his vices?

Swish.

The combing session wrapped up, leaving her hair transformed—gleaming like polished silk under the room’s dim light. It wasn’t a dramatic shift, but the subtle luster caught the eye just enough.

’Good thing it’s not blinding.’

Master’s golden locks had practically shimmered in the sunlight back in the mountains, a spectacle I’d taken for granted then. Out here in the Central Plains, though, such vivid blonde was a rarity, drawing stares like a beacon.

’Westerner? Mixed blood?’

Her lithe, ethereal build lent credence to the notion, but speculation was pointless. She wasn’t here, and dwelling on ghosts from the past wouldn’t serve me now. My focus remained on carving out a life worth living in the present.

"There, all done. Here’s a mirror."

Without thinking, I offered her the small hand mirror, only to find her clutching a hand over her chest. Her cheeks burned a vivid crimson as she accepted it, the flush spreading like wildfire.

"Are you unwell? Your face is red."

"No... I’m fine... just step back a bit..."

’Is she really sick?’

The color in her face suggested fever, yet a peak-level master succumbing to a mere chill felt absurd. Perhaps it was something subtler, an internal imbalance?

"You don’t look well—better rest in your room today."

"It’s not really sickness... just need to think for a bit..."

"If it’s embarrassment, no need. Everyone has weak spots. I know how strong you are, Miss."

"It’s because of you—!"

"Huh?"

"N-No, never mind. Don’t worry about it."

Her flustered stammering hinted at deeper currents, but pressing further risked overstepping. Whatever storm brewed behind those eyes, it wasn’t my place to pry.

"I’ll be in the next room, so call me if you need anything. Thanks to Master, I’m good at tending to the sick."

’Not moving a finger’s the same as being sick, right?’

With that lighthearted quip, I turned toward the door, ready to retreat and give her space—

"...Wait."

Her voice halted me mid-stride, soft but insistent.

"You’re planning to stay in the next room the whole time?"

"Huh? Yeah, that’s right."

"Didn’t you come to Henan to travel? You said there were places you wanted to visit."

"Well... that was the plan, but... you don’t look well—how could I go off and have fun alone?"

’Also, I’m scared to go alone.’

Henan’s streets might boast relative safety, but this was the Central Plains—fists flew over spilled drinks or sidelong glances in the blink of an eye. Complacency was a luxury I couldn’t afford. Besides, the merchants’ itinerary left room for detours; a day or two grounded here wouldn’t derail much. Better yet, it could deepen her goodwill, paving the way for shared adventures in Anhui.

"...Where were you planning to go?"

"Oh... there’s a lake to the north of here. They say a spirit fish lives there—beautiful to look at, so lots of people visit. They even have boats..."

It was a timeless draw, etched into local lore for generations. Whispers of confessions before the fish granting eternal love drew romantics in droves, but sentimentality held no sway over me—I sought the spectacle, nothing more.

"...Let’s go together."

"Huh? Are you sure you’re okay?"

"I’m really fine, so don’t worry. I know my own body."

"Well... if you’re that insistent, alright."

For a fleeting moment, her gaze seemed to smolder with an intensity I couldn’t place, but I dismissed it as a trick of the light—or my overactive imagination.

Splash!

The colossal fish, its scales a mesmerizing mosaic of crimson and ivory, cleaved through the lake’s surface with effortless grace.

"Ooooh...!"

Aboard the sprawling vessel—easily spacious enough for dozens—we mingled with the awestruck crowd, our eyes tracking the creature’s fluid dance across the water. It was a vision straight from legend, no wonder it lured pilgrims from afar. If only I’d had a way to capture it, like one of those mechanical contraptions from tales of distant lands.

"Miss, is that fish really a spirit? I know there are famous spirit creatures among fish—is it one of those?"

"If you mean the Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp, no, it’s not on that level. If it were a real Fire Carp, it wouldn’t be here as a spectacle—every faction would’ve tried to catch it long ago."

"Oh."

The logic checked out. I grasped the basics of its legendary status—an elusive marvel coveted by sects for its boundless potential—but the finer details eluded me.

’...Would it taste good?’

Slurp.

Its true prize lay in the inner core, a font of vital essence, but rarity like that begged the question: wouldn’t the flesh itself be a delicacy beyond compare? Paired with a fine liquor as an anju? A fleeting fantasy, if I’d ever corner one.

"Still, judging by its size, it’s probably on the cusp of being a spirit creature. Living for decades means it’s no ordinary fish."

She elaborated, perhaps mistaking my quiet contemplation for deeper curiosity.

"So, uh, does that mean it might have something like an inner core... I mean, would it taste goo—?"

"An inner core..."

She pivoted to scrutinize the fish anew. Strangely, it seemed to plunge deeper into the depths with unusual haste, as if sensing scrutiny.

"...It doesn’t seem to be at that level yet. And even if it did form one, a spirit creature living this close to humans wouldn’t have a valuable core. It’d be too tainted by impurities."

"So it’ll live a long time, then."

"Not necessarily. Human greed knows no bounds."

Shake shake.

She shook her head with a wistful sigh. I pondered the fish’s fate—would it endure if I returned to the mountains someday, only to venture back? A whimsical thought, amid the ripples.

...

...

"Ugh, I just wanted to read its fortune."

I dabbed at my face with a towel, muttering curses at the elusive swimmer. A mindless beast, incapable of speech, yet my affinity for divining the heavens sparked an idle curiosity about its lifespan. Leaning too close proved folly—the thing retaliated with a pressurized jet of water, drenching the uncovered sliver of my face and everything beneath.

Does it think it’s some kind of Pokmon?*

’This’ll be a pain to wash.’

My hermit’s cloak repelled moisture like oiled canvas, but the sodden layers underneath clung uncomfortably, a recipe for chills.

"Sigh..."

"Why not ask the crew? They might have some spare clothes."

"Spare clothes..."

"If it’s not too soaked, you might be fine, but wearing wet clothes could make you sick."

"...Guess I’d better."

My constitution was a fragile thing—a stray draft could sideline me for days, derailing every plan. Pride yielded to pragmatism; better to beg a favor than suffer in stubborn silence.

"Spare clothes? I’ve got one set right here."

Clink.

"I’ll just borrow it till mine dry..."

"Oh, thank you! It’s not fancy anyway—keep it if you want. Just a rag, really."

I pressed a handful of silver into the sailor’s callused palm and claimed the bundle. True to form, it was sailor’s garb: coarse, durable, weathered by salt and sun. Beneath my cloak, the aesthetics wouldn’t matter.

The snag? It was tailored for broad-shouldered brutes, hanging comically oversized on my slight frame.

"Miss, you out there...?"

"I’m here, don’t worry."

The boat’s sole private nook was this gloomy underdeck hold, lit by a solitary flickering candle that cast long, wavering shadows. In the cramped storage, amid crates and coiled ropes, I unfurled the ill-fitting attire and pondered my predicament.

’What do I do with this?’

I could cinch the hems crudely, but the trousers threatened to pool at my ankles and slide at the slightest movement. Parading in little more than a cloak? Unthinkable, wind or no wind—it spat in the face of any semblance of propriety.

’Sigh.’

On solid ground, a fire would banish the dampness swiftly, but adrift on water, I was at the mercy of the breeze. As frustration mounted, a thunderous clamor erupted from above.

Boom! Boom!

"Kyaaaah!!"

The unmistakably dire racket sent ice through my veins.

"..."

Screams pierced the air, freezing me in place. But the woman at the door surged into motion, her response a mirror opposite of my paralysis.

"...I’ll be back. It might be dangerous, so stay here."

"W-Wait! Leaving me alone—"

Whoosh!

"Behind..."

She vanished in a blur, her presence evaporating like mist. The din intensified, a cacophony of crashes and cries swelling from the deck.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

"Arghhh!!"

"Kyaaaaa!!!"

This wasn’t some fleeting tavern scuffle—it dragged on, escalating with every echo.

’...Why does this keep happening to me...?’

All I’d craved was a taste of the world’s wonders, a brief respite from isolation. And here it was, crashing down again.

Gloom coiled in my thoughts. Petty rivalries might resolve in moments, but what if this spiraled into something cinematic—a full-scale assault, bandits or worse?

’...Should I just stay here...?’

Venturing out tardily could ensnare me in the fray, turning escape into entanglement. Tucked away in this forgotten hold, I blended into obscurity—survival odds tilted in my favor. Optimistically, she’d dismantle the threat and return unscathed, but...

Bang! Bang!

"Eek..."

The mounting chaos forced shallow breaths, a hand clamped over my mouth to stifle any sound.

Tremble tremble tremble.

I yearned only for it—whatever "it" entailed—to conclude swiftly, sparing me the nightmare unfolding overhead.