Chapter 6: Five Years in Hiding

Time flew by like an arrow.

For Hyeonwol, it was a daily life filled with the deja vu of events from the past timeline repeating, but with the sudden increase in matters he needed to handle anew, he had hardly any time to spare.

Hyeonwol began to officially proceed with the transfer of power and started moving outside the palace.

Building a secret organization within the martial world was not a task that could be done half-heartedly.

Nevertheless, compared to before, when he always had to maintain a facade, his heart felt lighter, and in a way, he felt his spirit was being healed.

Hyeonwol realized, belatedly, just how much pressure he had been feeling from his position.

His attitude, which had felt a little awkward at first, completely relaxed to the point where no matter what joke he threw at his friends, it seemed natural.

In truth, the people who had long ago sensed the slightly unhinged energy hidden beneath whatever mask Hyeonwol wore didn’t seem to find it particularly awkward, but for Hyeonwol, this was one of the rare things he hadn’t anticipated.

Thus, he gradually set down the mask that had been covering him.

A mask that could always be put back on, but for which a place to set it down in daily life had appeared.

He also became quite accustomed to pretending to be sick once every week or two at most, sometimes at least once a month.

By the time the entire imperial palace regularly fell into chaos and the royal physicians were run ragged, public opinion was smoothly chanting for his deposition.

In just two years, he was able to step down from the position of Crown Prince with his own hands, amidst a warm send-off.

Hyeonwol was twenty-two years old.

Thanks to the groundwork he had diligently laid, the crown prince’s title was transferred to Hyeon-gyeom simultaneously with his deposition.

Hyeon-gyeom, who had initially resisted strongly, asking how he could possibly take his brother’s place, eventually had no choice but to accept his resolve as Hyeonwol’s persuasion continued.

On the day Hyeonwol moved out of the Eastern Palace to a small residence in a corner of the imperial palace, Hyeon-gyeom came to see him and, with a determined face, swore he would protect him.

Hyeonwol was a bit taken aback.

But not unaware of his younger brother’s feelings, he could only smile.

“Having the Crown Prince think that way makes this older brother’s heart feel very secure.”

Saying this sincerely, the hand that reached out to stroke his now younger brother’s, now the empire’s Crown Prince, fine hair was still warm.

But the honorific speech was so unfamiliar that Hyeon-gyeom felt a certain poignant ache in his heart.

After Hyeon-gyeom’s mother had died under mysterious circumstances years ago amidst the cold neglect of the emperor who maintained neutrality, the hand extended by his half-brother to the young boy, who had been watching for Noble Consort Yu’s moods in the desolate and lonely palace, was nothing short of salvation.

It was a lifeline, but also a precious warmth that had returned to a child who had lost his sanctuary.

It felt like only yesterday that he had resolved in his young heart to repay that kindness.

He never imagined he would be entrusted with such a grave matter.

Now, with a body that had grown a handspan taller than Hyeonwol’s, he hardened his dignified face, vowing to uphold that will.

Hyeonwol just smiled, saying it was good he had such a brother.

But Hyeonwol, unaware of the dissonance at this time, would soon be kicking himself.

Another three years passed in a flash.

It was an autumn day.

“This is a big problem.”

In a small palace located in a secluded corner of the western part of the imperial palace.

In the bedchamber of the First Prince’s Palace, which now few people besides a handful ever visited, the twenty-five-year-old Hyeonwol, dressed in extremely loose attire, sprawled out and muttered.

“There are already so many problems that I’m not sure which one you’re referring to.”

“Ugh….”

Since Hyeonwol had cast aside the position of Crown Prince and ostensibly holed up in the palace, the number of times Kang Ryun wore imperial military uniform had drastically decreased.

Dressed in his usual neat black martial arts robe, he entered the room.

Hyeonwol was leisurely lying face down on the bed.

The floor in front was open, offering a clear view of the inner courtyard where wildflowers were in full bloom—a spot with a good view.

In front of such a lord, Kang Ryun openly let out a sigh.

At first glance, he seemed leisurely, but the truth was that Hyeonwol’s workload hadn’t changed from when he was Crown Prince.

It was absurd.

Seeing him sprawled out in the clothes he had worn yesterday at this early hour, one naturally realized he had been up all night.

Outwardly, he was a prince confined to his sickbed, rarely appearing in public, but behind the scenes, he was collecting all sorts of information and scrutinizing the situation in the martial world.

Hyeonwol always smiled, saying it was manageable and going well, but from Kang Ryun’s perspective, who was the one running around, he had no idea if what they were doing was any good.

All they gathered were vague pieces of information, with nothing substantial to show…

Lately, he didn’t know what calculations were running through his lord’s mind—irreverently, he felt his trust waning—but one thing was certain: Hyeonwol was overworking himself.

Moreover, as always, Hyeonwol’s health itself remained precarious.

Back when Hyeonwol was still Crown Prince in the Eastern Palace, whenever a hoarse voice was heard from inside the room beside the head eunuch who announced the time for morning coughs, they would quickly exchange glances and break down the door—dozens of doors’ worth by now.

Hyeonwol always waved his hand, saying he was just exaggerating mild symptoms for realistic acting…

Even after moving to the simple princely residence within the palace, he certainly hadn’t seen such situations, but since Kang Ryun himself was often outside the palace on Hyeonwol’s orders, he couldn’t be sure.

The anxious looks in the eunuchs’ eyes made it clear enough.

But the man himself lay there with such a serene face, rummaging through piles of scattered documents, so it was hard to pin down.

Why bother worrying?

Kang Ryun’s gaze, which had come to regard him almost like a child set adrift, landed on Hyeonwol’s face, furrowed in contemplation.

What was he hesitating to say now?

“I’m not growing taller.”

“Pardon?”

“My height, which easily reached six cheok….”

Ah… My missed 180 centimeters!

Hyeonwol was lamenting his stature, which had barely grown since his regression, hovering in the mid-170s.

He was mortified that he hadn’t felt any dissonance even when Hyeon-gyeom caught up to him in height.

Why hadn’t he noticed this?

Considering how often he had been sick, it might be only natural, but despite his belief that since he had been tall before, he would naturally grow again, his height remained the same.

Did he have to be cheated even in such trivial things….

Whether Hyeonwol inwardly cursed Seol Cheon-yu’s demonic sword, Kang Ryun sighed as if deflated and spoke.

“Do you even eat anything in the first place?

You don’t exercise and only stay glued to your desk, so you need to at least eat well to grow.

You don’t sleep properly either….

At this rate, you really will die young.”

“I’ve already lived quite a bit to die young.”

“How can you say that….”

It was an extremely disrespectful conversation for a lord-subordinate relationship.

But since there was no one around to mind, only a natural atmosphere flowed through the hall.

Back when Hyeonwol commanded the northern battlefields and Kang Ryun assisted him by his side, this would have been an unimaginable scene, but as always, they were oblivious.

Hyeonwol yawned and sat up, glancing briefly at the sun high in the sky.

Though he was a prince, he usually found it troublesome to put on his formal crown, so he only tied up about half his hair loosely as he rose from the bed.

Yes.

Even when working, one should do it in bed.

He was very satisfied with this lifestyle, as if it were his calling.

Kang Ryun, already accustomed to his idle noble-like appearance, naturally straightened Hyeonwol’s disheveled outer robe and continued.

“Come to think of it, Yoon Boo-gakju says he has something urgent to report.”

“Je-eun?”

“Yes.

He said he’ll organize it into a report and send it up later.”

“He’s right next to the palace, is there a need for such trouble?

I’ll just go and hear it today.”

The weather’s nice anyway.

The crisp late autumn sunlight was tempting even for Hyeonwol, whose aversion to leaving his blanket had resurfaced.

Watching Hyeonwol prepare to go out, saying he should get some sunlight for the first time in a while, Kang Ryun felt anew how isolated this place was from the political world.

Because a member of the imperial family could sneak out of the palace and back in as easily as eating a meal without any hindrance.

Partly because Hyeonwol was exceptionally skilled at coming and going like a ghost, but also because every single person in this palace, down to the last ant, was undoubtedly Hyeonwol’s person.

His control was astonishing, to the point where it felt like a separate palace not belonging to the main one existed within the vast imperial compound.

Of course, Noble Consort Yu’s people seemed to come and go, pretending not to notice, regularly carrying out information, but they had probably long lost interest in the quiet palace of the deposed former crown prince.

The reason Hyeonwol, despite becoming a prince after being deposed, didn’t reside in an official princely residence outside the palace but stayed in this small palace within the imperial grounds was simple.

Ostensibly, it was due to health concerns, so royal physicians could reach him quickly in an emergency, but being amidst the bustling palace also had the advantage of making whatever he did easier to overlook.

“I will follow shortly, my lord.”

Kang Ryun bowed as he watched Hyeonwol leave the palace.

Though he harbored illness, Hyeonwol was still a martial artist who had reached a certain level.

Confirming that Hyeonwol had heard his words without trouble over the distance, waving his hand in acknowledgment, Kang Ryun began gathering the scattered documents into one place.

Thus, completely unaware of whom he would encounter today, Hyeonwol threw on a suitable outer robe and leaped over the palace wall with light movements.

***

“It’s cold….”

Hyeonwol, having changed clothes after leaping over the wall leading to the northwestern avenue—one of the eight main roads radiating from the imperial palace throughout the capital—stood blankly and muttered.

His attire, usually disguised as the uniform of a low-ranking military officer of the palace, was today an ordinary light blue long robe, so the white, cold wind befitting the approaching winter pierced through the thin fabric.

But soon feeling the warm sunlight heating his body just as much, Hyeonwol smiled pleasantly.

The further he got from the vicinity of the palace, the more people he saw, bustling about for their weekday routines.

Somehow enjoying the sight, Hyeonwol stopped at a corner of the main road and gazed at the scene.

Perhaps the fatigue from staying up all night had lingered without him noticing, or he wanted to rest his ankle, which he had slightly twisted earlier.

The palace security was too tight.

For any organization, the gatekeepers represent its prestige.

Being none other than the imperial palace guards, they were all considerable martial arts masters, so Hyeonwol always had to use extreme lightness techniques to fool their eyes.

They should focus on blocking people coming in, but getting out was also incredibly difficult.

Though Hyeonwol knew it was his past self who had reorganized the security system, he inwardly grumbled anyway.

“A jade hairpin carved from harmonized jade for only one silver nyang!”

“Newly arrived embroidered silk fabrics!

You there, young man, come take a look!”

“One bag of candy, two copper nyang!”

Not long after entering the marketplace, Hyeonwol stopped again.

He looked toward the direction of the voice that had caught his ear.

His destination was still a bit far, and having not eaten breakfast after staying up all night, he was quite hungry….

His deliberation was short.

He had never been stingy when it came to eating.

He felt a firm conviction that among the nutrients forming his body, sugar was distinctly lacking.

“Give me three bags of candy.”

“Oh my, young master.

It’s been a while.

Actually, I’ve been wanting to ask….

Do you have many children at home at such a young age?”

“Actually, this is a secret….”

“Yes?”

“I’ve undergone a bit of rejuvenation.”

“…….”

How did a young person…?

Leaving behind the street vendor’s gaze, as if looking at a madman who only looked normal, Hyeonwol, with a much more satisfied expression, resumed walking.

Warm steam rose from the bag containing the lotus-patterned candy, lifting his spirits.

Enjoying the sweet red bean filling inside with his mouth, he was just stepping into an alley leading to his destination.

He felt a sense of dissonance.

There were many things today making him stop in his tracks.

His faintly extended senses detected the presence of a group of thugs converging around him.

“…To experience something like this in my lifetime.”

Was it because of his attire?

It seemed a situation he had rarely, if ever, encountered was unfolding.

Hyeonwol looked down at his flimsy long robe.

At first glance, he looked perfectly like a feeble scholar without a shred of fighting spirit.

Not flashy enough to be seen as a son of a good family, so they probably thought he looked easy.

Lamenting how far the capital’s law and order still had to go, he slowly turned around.

“Oh my, this young scholar has good instincts.”

“Since you understand the situation, I trust you also know what to hand over.

Right?”

A group of thugs, snickering, blocked his retreat.

The path ahead looked good for running away, but their calculation that it was ultimately a dead end was subtly meticulous.

If he ran, they probably planned to reappear slowly, herding him, and enjoy the sight of their pathetic prey.

Absolutely vile.

Hyeonwol had neither the time nor the inclination to play along with their game.

“Hand over?

If you coveted my candy that much, you should have just said so.

I understand, since it looks this delicious, but why threaten me physically?

All grown adults.”

“Hey, this brat doesn’t seem to understand the situation.”

“Let’s do this easily, young scholar.

Hand over everything you have.”

Addressing him informally despite his young face, then calling him ‘scholar’—it was utterly absurd.

Clicking his tongue, Hyeonwol felt regret towards Kang Ryun, who showed no signs of appearing.

A guest on the wrong day—of all times, when he had even left his guard behind, this happens.

Hyeonwol had no choice but to subtly grip the weapon inside his sleeve.

It was a tobacco pipe he had started carrying a few years ago, now a part of his daily life.

There were more useful weapons in his bosom, but openly rummaging would arouse suspicion.

“What a shame about the uneaten candy….

I’ll finish this quickly, so please be safe….”

Bidding a final farewell to the candy bag that would likely be in tatters after the brief brawl, Hyeonwol looked at the thugs with an annoyed expression.

His attitude was calmly composed, as if detached from the situation.

The thugs wore expressions like the candy vendor from earlier, looking at someone not quite right in the head.

Soon, I’ll make your bodies not quite right either.

At Hyeonwol’s face, which broke into a provocative grin utterly unsuited to his gentle features, the thugs’ faces twisted as they interpreted its meaning.

“…This guy’s been crazy from the start!

You’ll only understand when you get hurt…!”

“Ugh!”

“What the… Keok, boss!”

“Help…!”

“Huh?”

Hyeonwol looked at the thugs with puzzlement.

They were collapsing like mushrooms after rain, even though he hadn’t taken a single step forward.

Judging by grown men flying like fallen leaves in an autumn wind, it was the work of someone with considerably high martial arts.

For a moment he thought Kang Ryun had arrived, but the energy felt beyond the thugs was definitely different from his guard’s.

Unsure who the hero appearing like a knight on a white horse in this situation was, Hyeonwol stood blankly and put another piece of candy in his mouth.

The surreal scene felt like someone else’s business.

Chewing candy so peacefully in a situation like this was a rather irritating sight.

“Who the hell are you… Keukeuk.”

As the thug leader uttered words that seemed to voice Hyeonwol’s own feelings and collapsed, the tall young man’s back finally came into view, standing proudly amidst the fallen bodies.

Hyeonwol’s eyes unconsciously widened.

Though dressed in unadorned white martial arts robes, his bearing held an elegance and clarity like a precious species of tree.

An aura that made even the dim alley feel freshly cleared filled the space.

Hyeonwol purely admired the young man’s demeanor, which seemed to transcend time.

Even renowned masters of orthodox sects couldn’t possess such bearing; which sect’s disciple was he?

Amidst his brimming curiosity, the young man sheathed his sword and slowly turned around.

But at that moment, seeing the young man’s face, Hyeonwol had to desperately clamp his mouth shut to stop it from falling open in shock.

“…Are you unharmed anywhere?

It’s been a while, Wol hyung-nim.”

…He had never imagined a reunion like this.

“I wonder if you might remember me.”

Unable to hide his flushed face, unable to erase his shy demeanor, the protagonist with that youthful countenance—Seol Cheon-yu—stood there.