Chronicles of the Lazy Sovereign Novel - Chapter 435 (New)

‘I’ve blundered.’

Wei Yanho came to the realization that he had committed a significant oversight.

In theory, dispatching Uil to the Jegal family was a sound move. From his perspective, there was no better arrangement than securing a profit while remaining completely idle. The complication, however, lay exactly in that concept—remaining idle.

Wei Yanho cherished the act of lounging around more than life itself. It was his greatest talent and his singular point of pride. When it came to the art of being a bed-bound sluggard, he considered himself peerless. Even his master, who surpassed him in almost every other discipline, had to acknowledge his absolute mastery of laziness.

“You stubborn mule!”

He could still vividly recall his master’s fury when, even after a sound thrashing, Wei Yanho refused to move a muscle. Even the great Baek Muhan, a man of unparalleled achievements, viewed Wei Yanho’s indolence as an immovable object.

But currently, Wei Yanho found himself in a predicament. He could no longer simply exist as a stationary object in his bed. It wasn’t that his desire for sloth had diminished—that was an impossibility. Rather, the source of his discomfort wasn’t the texture of the mattress or a lack of things to do, but something far more invasive: a pair of eyes.

Gazes.

Wei Yanho tilted his head up ever so slightly.

Staring.

He felt the weight of eyes pinned directly onto him. With a grimace of unease, he lowered his head back down.

‘Uil should have taken the kid with her…’

Handing Uil over to the Jegal family was fine, but her absence left no one to supervise So Ryeo-gun. While he could have dumped the responsibility onto the household staff, the young girl was adamant about staying close to him. She likely feared being reclaimed by the Jegal family and viewed Wei Yanho as her only shield.

He understood her plight. Wei Yanho wasn’t entirely heartless; he knew the girl had endured the brutal, clinical training of the Jegal family. Since protecting her didn’t technically require him to get up, he figured he could just let her be.

But it was becoming a nuisance. Protection, in his mind, should be a quiet affair. He was fulfilling his end by keeping her in his sight. However, So Ryeo-gun seemed to equate “protection” with “constant surveillance.” Ever since Uil departed, she hadn’t blinked.

Consider the situation. Imagine trying to savor a moment of profound tranquility. If you were lying in a sun-drenched, cozy bed and someone was just standing there, burning a hole in you with their stare, could you actually unwind? Even as thick-skinned as Wei Yanho was, he was reaching his limit.

‘I’m going to waste away.’

His appetite had been poor lately, and if he couldn’t get his proper rest, he was convinced his health would fail. Finally, unable to endure the scrutiny any longer, he rolled out of bed. So Ryeo-gun flinched and retreated in a panic.

‘If you’re that terrified, stop watching me.’

Children were an enigma to him. To Wei Yanho, they were baffling creatures whose motivations and logic were entirely alien.

“Hungry?”

Lacking any deep insight into the pediatric mind, his inquiries were limited. When So Ryeo-gun shook her head, Wei Yanho began to brainstorm.

‘I need to give her something else to do…’

He pondered the problem with uncharacteristic intensity. If she had a distraction, he could return to his nap. He wasn’t sure what a girl like her would enjoy—usually, kids liked dolls or trinkets, but the guest quarters were devoid of toys. As he surveyed the room, his eyes landed on something familiar.

‘There we go.’

Among the amenities of the guest suite, he spotted exactly what he needed.

“You…”

Wei Yanho let out a dark, knowing grin.

“Ever tried your hand at Go?”

“A pleasure to have you.”

“The honor is mine.”

Tang Cheongun greeted Jegal Yeom with a polite smile, which the latter returned with apparent warmth. It was, however, entirely a facade.

‘Hypocritical snake.’

‘Keep smiling, you bastard.’

Both men were well aware that their families had diverged. The Jegal family was currently propping up the elders who sought to undermine Tang Cheongun’s authority. While the Sovereign of the Righteous Heavenly Alliance may have steered the policy, it was the Jegal family’s cooperation that made the opposition viable.

Strip away the social graces, and they were enemies. Yet, they were bound by the rules of high society.

“I wasn’t expecting a visit without a formal announcement.”

“Given the long-standing ties between our houses, I felt such formalities were beneath us.”

“Haha, quite right. I suppose I was being a bit narrow-minded.”

Though their words were honeyed, their eyes were as sharp as cold steel.

‘I’d love to kill him right here,’ Tang Cheongun thought.

But a conflict now would only hand the Jegal family a pretext to intervene more directly. Swallowing his rage, he smiled again.

“What brings you here today?”

“I heard a rumor that a fascinating individual is staying with the Tang family. I simply had to see him for myself.”

“A guest?”

“Indeed. Word of Wei Yanho and his legendary blade has spread. How could I pass up the chance to meet such a man?”

“…You’re here for Wei Yanho?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Not at all. Encountering a rising star is always a pleasure. I was actually going to invite you over myself. Hahaha!”

“I have high expectations. Truly.”

Jegal Yeom tried to bait him, but Tang Cheongun remained unruffled. Why should he be? What did it matter what a man walking into a pitfall had to say? He could afford to be gracious to someone about to face a tiger.

Tang Cheongun’s internal grin widened. ‘Got you.’

The beauty of Wei Yanho was that those who didn’t know him invariably underestimated him. They all told themselves the same lie: ‘As long as I’m careful, handling a boy like that will be easy.’ And the price for that arrogance was always ruinous. If Jegal Yeom wanted to step into the trap, Tang Cheongun wasn’t about to stop him.

“This way. I’ll lead you to him.”

“You’re in quite a rush. It’s been ages since I spoke with the head of the Tang family; shouldn’t we have tea first?”

“If you spend your time talking to someone with work to do, you’ll only end up annoyed. Come find me when you’re finished. I’ll have the finest tea waiting. Or perhaps something stronger?”

“Alcohol sounds perfect.”

Tang Cheongun decided then and there to break out his most expensive liquor. Seeing Jegal Yeom’s face after he met Wei Yanho would make the drink taste twice as sweet. He stifled a laugh as he led the way to the guest quarters. He noticed Jegal Yeom and the elders exchanging subtle looks, but he didn’t care.

‘Their little schemes are about to go up in smoke.’

Even a nuisance can be a tool if used correctly, and Wei Yanho was proving remarkably useful. As they reached the hallway, the guards outside Wei Yanho’s room bowed.

“Is he in?”

“Yes, sir.”

Naturally. Where else would he be? The boy practically refused to leave the room even for basic necessities.

“Let’s go.”

“After you.”

Tang Cheongun rapped on the door. “Are you in there?”

Silence.

“Hmm.” Tang Cheongun cleared his throat. “I’m coming in.”

Just as he began to push the door open, his instincts screamed. He jerked his head to the side.

Whoosh!

A terrifying projectile whistled past his ear.

‘A hidden weapon?’

Tang Cheongun felt a bead of cold sweat roll down his forehead. What on earth was going on in there?

“The Jegal family…”

Saha, the Historian, looked deeply troubled. “Why that look? Do you have some history with them?”

“It’s more about their legacy. They are a house with immense historical weight.”

“True enough,” Gwangu Shingae, the Beggar, agreed with a nod.

There are many ancient lineages in the martial world, but few can trace their roots as far back as the Jegal family, whose history stretches to the era of the Kingdom of Shu.

“It’s curious, though. The Jegal family didn’t feature much in the Great War. Are you suggesting they had already made contact with the Radiant Martial Sovereign?”

“Who told you that?”

“Pardon?”

“Who told you they weren’t involved in the Great War?”

“…Isn’t that the common understanding?”

Gwangu Shingae chuckled. “I don’t know where you picked up that particular piece of fiction.”

“The history I record is based on physical evidence. We can’t rely on mere hearsay. If they were involved, why isn’t it in the records?”

“It’s not that they chose to stay out of the books; they simply couldn’t get in them.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jegal U’s foresight was spot on. It wasn’t the time for record-keeping. They were too busy struggling to stay alive to worry about writing things down.”

“I see…”

“There’s a flaw in your thinking. Only a tiny fraction of history is ever written. The war you live through and the war you read about are two different worlds. That’s what fascinates me about you.”

“In what way?”

“Most people bury the horrific parts. Even now, the memory of those days makes me tremble. But you’re determined to dig up those buried stories and bring them to light. It’s a strange mission.”

Saha replied with absolute conviction:

“We have to uncover the parts we want to forget. It’s the only way to make sure they don’t happen again.”

“…You might be right.”

A look of old regret crossed Gwangu Shingae’s face. “The stories we want to forget… yes, we were right to bury them then, but perhaps we were wrong to keep them hidden. We didn’t realize it at the time.”

The Beggar coughed and steadied himself. “Let’s move on. It’s time for the heart of the matter.”

“About the Jegal family?”

“No.” A sly, knowing grin touched Gwangu Shingae’s lips. “They were just the ones who suffered.”