Chapter v19c18

## A Conversation in Silence

– Bi Ryu-Yeon vs. Cheong-Heun

Na Ye-Rin found herself thinking that with Bi Ryu-Yeon, words were merely a supplementary tool for communication. She wondered if the belief that silence equaled a lack of conversation was simply a human obsession.

Was a conversation without words even possible? She wasn’t denying that humans relied on language to communicate. But perhaps their perspective was too narrow, their focus on words overshadowing the essence of communication. They became so dependent on language that they were trapped by it. And once trapped, it was difficult to escape the mire of ignorance.

But the man sitting beside her was different. He wasn’t bound by words, customs, or even his own desires. His name was Bi Ryu-Yeon.

He didn’t try to deceive himself. He always faced things head-on. That made him easy to understand, even if his methods were unconventional. That was probably why people found him off-putting. But she had never seen him compromise his principles.

They were now officially a couple, though many still disapproved, and they were engaged in a unique conversation. Their language was silence. It was Bi Ryu-Yeon who had taught her that communication was possible even without words, that simply sitting together in comfortable silence could be a form of dialogue.

Na Ye-Rin was terrible at conversations, especially with men. Men had always been objects of caution, not conversation. The only exception was her father, Na Baek-Cheon, the leader of the Murim Alliance, but they weren’t a particularly talkative father-daughter pair. He had been too busy with his duties, and she had been too young.

Her tendency to avoid conversations had worsened after she started living in the Sword Valley, a secluded training ground for female swordsmen, at the age of twelve. Extreme environments produced extreme reactions. It was inevitable, even if it was considered narrow-mindedness.

Life was a tightrope walk. A tightrope walker who lost their balance always fell hard. The Sword Empress, worried about the limited experiences of the Sword Valley, had organized small gatherings with male disciples from other prestigious sects, but Na Ye-Rin had preferred to stay in her room. It would have been strange if she was good at conversations.

She didn’t even know what to talk about. It might sound cruel to the men who were desperate to hear her voice, but she had been skeptical about the need for conversation in the first place. Men were objects of aversion and caution, and that had never changed. Until she met him.

Bi Ryu-Yeon had been different from the others from the start. It was a strange feeling. A sense of familiarity, as if they had met before, even though they hadn’t. A natural ease that had momentarily lowered her defenses. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have allowed “that” to happen. She had been lost in thought, and when she came to her senses, her lips had already been stolen. It wasn’t sweet, but it wasn’t repulsive or unpleasant either. She was just angry at herself for allowing it. So she had drawn her sword, severing the connection.

But the bond, once forged, couldn’t be easily broken. It had only been scratched. Life was unpredictable, but she had never imagined their relationship would develop this far. She hadn’t believed she could ever fall for a man. And no one at Cheonmu Academy had expected it either.

* * *

With Bi Ryu-Yeon, she didn’t have to rack her brains for conversation topics. Simply sitting beside him, their shoulders touching, their gazes fixed on the same point, was enough. It was a comfortable silence, a silent communion of hearts and souls.

Words without heart were empty, and spoken words always had room for hypocrisy and deceit. A thousand words of love could turn into a graveyard of lies overnight. But there was no room for hypocrisy in this silence. Because what resonated with the heart wasn’t sound, but another heart.

His silence resonated with her heart, and her silence resonated with his. Her heart, unmoved by a thousand sweet words and a thousand prayers, was now trembling in this silent communion.

Their hearts, beating in unison, created a harmony, two rhythms merging into one. It spread outwards, encompassing the world, the universe. She could feel her heart responding to his, reaching out into the world. Their souls were rejoicing in harmony. What should she call this feeling, this newfound emotion? She heard a faint trickle of water, a sign of life in her frozen heart.

The sun was setting, the wind blowing as if to stir up a red wave. They sat in silence, watching the crimson sunset, lost in the moment. Time and space disappeared. Only a single melody remained.

Bi Ryu-Yeon’s mouth, usually a weapon spewing venomous words, was now closed.

His warmth, the fire that emanated from his fingertips and his lips, had been melting the ice that encased her heart, layer by layer, ever since their encounter at the Unhyang Pavilion. But it hadn’t completely melted it yet.

His warmth had thawed her frozen hands, his breath had breathed life into her frost-kissed lips, but the ice that encased her heart, colder and harder than the ice of the North Sea, remained.

But it was a gentle warmth, like the early spring sunshine that peeked through the winter chill, that was slowly melting the walls around her heart, without her even realizing it. It was a gradual process, happening beneath her conscious awareness. And in the barren wasteland of her heart, a tiny seed of trust had sprouted.

Maybe she could tell him now. She was afraid to break this beautiful silence, but she wanted to tell him, she had to tell him. She might have done it, if not for the interruption.

But the eternal melody was shattered by a jarring noise, like a glass shard shattering on the ground. Na Ye-Rin sighed, her voice filled with regret.

“Ryu-Yeon…”

The tower of silence they had built so carefully had crumbled. Bi Ryu-Yeon turned his head. She did the same, her gaze cold as she looked at the two intruders.

“Excuse us, but do you have a moment?”

The intruders were Baek Moo-Young, the One-Stroke Wonder of the Hyeongsan Sect, known as the scholar of the Nine Stars Society, and Cheong-Heun, the Three-Section Sword, the Peerless Flying Dragon. The ice that had been melting slowly began to refreeze. The chill that had subsided returned, swirling around her like a cloud.

“What is it, Baek Moo-Young, Cheong-Heun?”

Her voice was cold, sharp as a winter frost, making even the scholar of the Nine Stars Society hesitate. Baek Moo-Young was flustered. Had he committed a crime? He couldn’t understand her anger.

“Uh… Well… You see…”

The man known for his sharp intellect stammered, at a loss for words.

‘He’s flustered.’

Cheong-Heun was surprised. But he was also amused and impressed. He mentally saluted the woman who had managed to fluster his friend.

‘That’s why I told you to find a girlfriend…’

He thought to himself, shaking his head.

‘What good is being handsome and intelligent if you have no experience? I told you there are many things you can only learn through experience, but you ignored me. And now look at you!’

Observing from the outside and experiencing something firsthand were two different things. His friend’s only flaw was his belief that he could understand the world through theory alone. He acted as if he knew everything about love just by observing it. ‘I already know what will happen. Why bother experiencing it?’ That was his logic. And Cheong-Heun’s response was always the same:

‘Well, an untested theory is just a hypothesis, my friend!’

They had never been able to agree, so they had failed to find a compromise. As a result, his friend was clueless about women. He had no immunity. He was full of weaknesses. He was a living example of how an untested hypothesis was meaningless.

“Well… You see…”

He had started a sentence, but he couldn’t finish it. His words, his most powerful weapon, had failed him, and he was sinking deeper into the quicksand of panic. He couldn’t even remember why he was here.

Na Ye-Rin’s voice grew colder.

“I’m listening. Please speak. I haven’t even heard your reason for being here yet.”

It was colder than saying she hadn’t been listening.

“We’re here because… That’s right! Official business! We’re here on official business, Miss Na!”

Baek Moo-Young finally managed to gather his scattered thoughts and remember his purpose.

“Official business? At this hour, when the sun is setting and the stars are rising?”

Official business hours were from 6:00 AM to 5:00 PM. Martial artists woke up early, so their work started early, and their workday ended around sunset.

“We’re working overtime!”

‘Why am I so nervous? I’m not a criminal.’

He remembered he wasn’t a criminal. That gave him courage. Yes, he was on official business. He had been momentarily intimidated, but he had nothing to feel guilty about.

“Overtime?”

Na Ye-Rin asked skeptically.

“Yes, overtime. We’d rather be resting, but this is an urgent matter. We’re being overworked at such a young age. But rest assured, this has nothing to do with you, Miss Na, a model citizen. We’re here for him.”

Baek Moo-Young’s finger, pointing at Bi Ryu-Yeon, was filled with hostility.

‘He’s still flustered.’

Cheong-Heun had been watching his friend’s uncharacteristic behavior with a mixture of amusement and concern. He was starting to doubt his friend’s ability to handle this situation.

He stepped forward.

“That’s right. We’re not here for Miss Na. We’re here for him. We didn’t want to interrupt your private time, but this is an urgent matter. Please forgive our intrusion, Miss Na.”

Na Ye-Rin glanced at Bi Ryu-Yeon. But he remained silent, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. He seemed content to observe the situation. As a result, the conversation remained in Na Ye-Rin’s control, much to their frustration. They wanted to conclude this conversation and get to the point with the seemingly easier target – a product of their imagination, prejudice, and misconception.

“You acknowledge that you’ve interrupted us and that it was an intrusion. So I believe I’m entitled to hear your reason for being here. Don’t you agree?”

They exchanged awkward glances. Baek Moo-Young and Cheong-Heun looked at each other, their eyes silently debating who would take the fall. Their intense eye contact, conveying a battle of wills, required them to utilize even the smallest facial muscles. After a brief exchange, they reached a silent agreement.

Baek Moo-Young spoke first.

“Alright. We’ll tell you why we’re here. You’ll find out eventually anyway.”

He turned slightly towards Bi Ryu-Yeon, pulled out a document from his pocket, and read it aloud in a clear voice.

“Bi Ryu-Yeon, third-year student of Cheonmu Academy, you are under arrest for the murder of five aspiring entrants!”