394 - Childhood Friend of the Zenith

**Title: The Celestial Friend - Chapter 395: Northern Rabbit** Mihyoran loved dreaming. Unlike the chaotic and overturned state of the present, the world she saw in her dreams reflected the bright and glorious times. Of course, the occasional nightmares were excruciatingly painful, but even then, the dreams would show the happiest moments of her life. At the same time, she found her dreams to be bittersweet. These dreams, showcasing only the happiest moments she could no longer experience, left her overwhelmed with longing upon waking. And it was the same now. Mihyoran was well aware she was dreaming. How could she not be? After all, the friend she could no longer see stood vividly before her, which could only happen in a dream. "It's a flower!" "Kyaaa! A bee!" "Hyoran! Biyun, run away!" "Cheonhee, put that down!" ... It wasn't exactly a scene she longed to see again, she realized suddenly. Still, she didn't avert her gaze. "Hyoran?" In a scene bordering chaos, the silver-haired woman approached with a smile. Her smile was as radiant as ever. Even Mihyoran, who was often described as cold or ruthless, felt something thaw inside her when faced with that smile. Such was the charm of this child. Perhaps that was why even that stern man couldn't help but smile at her. "Hyoran! It's a flower!" She presented what was clearly not an ordinary flower with such joy. Mihyoran found it difficult to understand, given her personality. Yet, she accepted the flower graciously. Someone else grimaced at the sight. "Lady Mi! That's a poisonous plant! Throw it away immediately!" The protest came from a strikingly beautiful woman with jet-black hair, dressed in a pale green martial robe. Her expression was cold as ice, but her temperament was fiery. She was known as Bai Feng Moyong Biyun. Upon hearing Moyong Biyun’s words, the silver-haired woman spun around to face her and began to chase after her. Moyong Biyun let out a shriek and started to flee. "Is she crazy! No, leave the bee behind!" "It's a flower!" "I know, so stop coming near me!" Watching this, Mihyoran covered her face with her fan, chuckling. It was like a silly play, yet it brought a sense of comfort. Reflecting on this, Mihyoran looked at her hand. In it was an unfamiliar white flower. The silver-haired woman had left it behind, and Moyong Biyun had warned it was poisonous. However, Mihyoran knew well that it wasn't toxic. She was certain the child would never give her such a flower. She carefully tucked the flower into her bosom, thinking, "I should find out what this flower is called later." Maybe it was because the flower particularly pleased her. A fleeting thought crossed her mind to nurture it someday if the time was right. Afterwards, Mihyoran gazed calmly at the scene unfolding before her. A sky without a single cloud, wide expanses of forest, the occasional butterfly, and the sounds of insects from the woods. Could anyone believe that this peaceful scene was a 'Demonic Realm'? Unlikely. Not even Mihyoran herself could believe it was true. How had she come to be in such a place feared by so many? Yet, despite the circumstances, she wasn't too worried. That was how it was back then. Perhaps because she was young or because nothing mattered as long as she was with them. Now, Mihyoran clearly realized it was more the latter. No matter what happened, as long as she was with them, it would be okay. It was a time when she indulged in such naive dreams, contradicting her nature, and it left her yearning, prompting such dreams. That’s why it saddens her. Because she knows she'll never see this scene again, it makes her even sadder. Even now, Mihyoran knows. She knows that this moment she is experiencing is a dream. Therefore, she tries to take in as much as she can. For the times she will live in the future, it might bring a small sense of joy. As Mihyoran watched, the silver-haired woman who had been chasing Moyong Biyun began approaching her. "Hyoran." The woman called out to Mihyoran. Her flowing silver hair, coupled with purple eyes tinged pink, made her look like a jewel. "Are you happy?" Mihyoran flinched at the question. Her reflection in the woman's eyes looked quite surprised. "What do you mean..." "As long as Hyoran is happy, that's enough. Hyoran, are you happy?" Was it because it was a dream that she could hear such things? As a strange emotion brushed past Mihyoran, she realized she couldn’t offer any reply. The question about happiness. She could at least say she wasn’t unhappy, but conversely, she couldn’t easily define what happiness was. What is happiness? Because she often pondered these words recently, was she now hearing them in her dreams? And from her friend, no less. Mihyoran paused, eventually responding after a moment of contemplation. "I'm trying to be happy." Then, she countered the question. "Were you happy?" In response to Mihyoran’s question, the woman smiled but did not provide an answer. Mihyoran knew. She knew the woman wouldn’t give her an answer. After all, this world was merely a memory she longed to recall. As Mihyoran tried to erase her regrets and take in the scene once more, the silver-haired woman spoke. "It's not Hyoran's fault. So, it's okay to be happy." "...!" Mihyoran stiffened at the woman’s words. Because something about it felt strangely out of place for a dream. As Mihyoran gazed at the woman with trembling eyes, trying to reach out, a voice pierced through from afar. [Master.] The moment the voice reached Mihyoran’s ears. She had no choice but to awaken from the dream. When Mihyoran opened her eyes, the first thing that greeted her was the dark ceiling above. It seemed the night hadn't yet passed. She confirmed this as she slowly sat up. “...” Despite just waking up, Mihyoran's eyes were clear and sharp. This was a reflection of her determination to always appear composed, at least on the outside. No matter how chaotic she felt inside, she had to maintain a refined exterior. This was one of the core principles she held as the leader of her position. Gathering her thoughts with a slight shake of her head, Mihyoran tried to recall: ‘…What was that dream?’ She had the vague feeling that she had been dreaming about something significant, yet the memory eluded her. A sense of unfulfillment lingered, but she busied her mind with the present and looked to her side. “What is it?” Kneeling before her, wearing black clothes and a mask, was a man—her protector, Mujin. “…A guest has arrived.” “At this hour?” “Yes.” Mihyoran frowned at Mujin’s response. A guest arriving at such a late hour meant they had come without prior notification—a discourtesy she greatly disliked. Her carefully laid plans were often disrupted by such unannounced visitors. Despite this, she held her temper back. If Mujin had deemed it necessary to wake her despite knowing it was rude, it meant the visitor must be significant. Understanding this, she refrained from speaking any further. “Where is this guest?” “…They are waiting outside.” Nodding at Mujin's words, Mihyoran stepped outside. She needed to maintain her composure and determine who had come to visit her. ‘Who could it be?’ She ran through the possibilities of who might visit her at this time of night. A few names came to mind, yet none who would bypass Mujin's scrutiny. This unknown guest intrigued Mihyoran, leaving her no choice but to find out for herself. As she stepped outside, her first view was of the lake, which was part of the accommodation provided by the inn, reflecting the full moon hanging in the sky. A thought crossed her mind—it was indeed a picturesque scene. It was only after observing her surroundings that Mihyoran noticed she was not alone; someone else was also gazing at the lake. “…Ah?” As soon as she realized this, Mihyoran reacted. Shrouded in shadows and not entirely visible, yet Mihyoran recognized her—her identity was unmistakably clear. “Ahaha.” The figure, noticing Mihyoran recognized her, laughed—a distinct, cheerful, and bright laugh. “How…?” With that sound, Mihyoran’s certainty grew stronger. It had to be her—someone Mihyoran knew well. In a rare display of surprise, Mihyoran's voice trembled slightly. The figure, sensing this, hesitantly scratched her cheek and stepped forward. As the shadows masking her vanished, the figure’s identity came into full view. She was a woman clad in a light blue martial outfit, with long, sleek black hair. Her appearance had hardly changed over the years. As someone born a martial artist, unlike Mihyoran, she hadn’t aged much, a fact that sparked a mixture of envy and nostalgia in Mihyoran. “Miss Mi.” Mihyoran's pupils quivered at the familiar title she hadn't heard in over a decade. “It’s been a while.” Her stiff shoulders tensed at the awkwardly delivered greeting. Observing the anxiety apparent in the woman’s demeanor was Bai Feng Moyong Biyun—a member of the Moyong family, once both a competitor in love and a dear friend. Seeing the rigidity in Mihyoran, Moyong Biyun spoke gently. “Can we talk?” Her voice wavered slightly. Mihyoran, without saying a word, gave a small nod, and together they entered her quarters. ****************** “Sorry.” The sudden apology came during breakfast. I looked up from my dumplings at the person who had interrupted me mid-bite. There stood a woman with striking black hair cut to her shoulders, clad in a black martial outfit—Peng Ahee. “Whamff?” “…Sorry for interrupting your meal. Could you finish eating first?” I hurriedly chewed and swallowed my food before asking her again. “What do you mean by that? Why apologize all of a sudden?” Wondering why she came so early in the morning just to apologize, Peng Ahee averted her eyes and spoke. “I heard about a bit of trouble between you and our family head.” “Ah.” Is she talking about yesterday? It seemed like she was referring to the incident last night in Hanam with Lord Peng. Even so, I couldn't help but tilt my head in confusion. “But it wasn’t an issue with me.” If anything had happened, it was with Ku Yonsoa, and if any problems arose, it was with Bai Feng Moyong Biyun. It didn’t really involve me. Despite my words, Peng Ahee continued with a downcast expression, persisting with her apology. “I’ve already apologized to Young Miss Gu... I'm sorry.” She must have already approached Ku Yonsoa to apologize. Was Peng Ahee cleaning up the mess left by her troublesome father, the Martial King? ‘She seems perfectly fine, so why does that old man act like that...’ It was strange that despite the Martial King's temper, his children appeared to be decent. Among them, Peng Ahee seemed the most normal, while Peng Wujin—though not exactly normal—didn't share his father’s foul temper. As I thought of this, I spoke to Peng Ahee. “As I mentioned, you don't need to apologize to me.” “…Okay.” Despite my reassurance, her expression didn’t seem to improve, but there wasn’t much else I could do. “He’s not always like that... He’s just been off lately.” Peng Ahee spoke, almost as if defending him. I couldn’t help but internally agree with her. As far as I recall, when talk of the broken engagement between the Gu family and the Peng family emerged, if the Martial King's temper hadn't been checked, chaos would have ensued. Thankfully, it was resolved amicably, implying some recent issues might be plaguing him. ‘Not that I’m particularly interested in that.’ Since it’s their family matter, it's not something I need to concern myself with. At most, I should just make sure to avoid any unnecessary friction. ‘I’d probably get quite irritated if I got tangled with that sort of person again.’ Having dealt with many such individuals, I know myself well enough—I can't endure my temper for long. Any more encounters with the Martial King and I might end up biting his head off without realizing. It's obvious that butting heads with the head of one of the clans would only spell trouble. Avoidance is the best strategy when patience fails. In that sense, the Martial King was like dung to me—something to be avoided because it’s foul. “Don’t worry about it. Just eat your breakfast.” “...” “I can tell at a glance that you haven’t eaten.” “Skipping a meal isn’t such a big deal…” “You’ll crash if you keep that up. Sit down and eat.” I mean it sincerely. Not eating properly will catch up with you. I've seen too many people falter because they let it pile up. Choosing to skip meals when food is available is foolish. Seeing Peng Ahee hesitating, Tang Soryeol and Wi Seola pulled her down beside them to sit and eat. Meanwhile, Namgong Bia was still asleep in the room, and Moyong Hiya had yet to make an appearance. ‘I need to check on him, too.’ Soon, it would be time for me to infuse Moyong Hiya with some energy. He was more aware of this than anyone, so he’d likely come on his own. …But if not, ‘Should I seek him out?’ Honestly, I didn't want to. It was obvious the White Thousand Swords Master would be at his side. The thought of it made me sigh involuntarily. ‘Why are these men so determined to give me trouble?’ For some reason, the heads of the Four Great Clans seemed hell-bent on making my life difficult. With Namgong Jin, the situation was different, but the White Thousand Swords Master truly had it out for me, and the Martial King's gaze was nothing short of weird. Looking at it this way, ‘At least the Poison King...’ He might be the most reasonable one among them. With that in mind, Tang Soryeol seemed a bit different. Despite her unusual tastes and appetite, she fell within the bounds of normalcy, similar to Peng Ahee. Just as I was about to nod at my own musings, it seemed Tang Soryeol sensed my thoughts and spoke up. “Oh, by the way, Young Master Gu.” “…Huh?” I flinched, like a thief caught in the act, as she addressed me. Tang Soryeol smiled, as she always did. “There’s something about the trip to Sichuan I'd like to discuss.” Ah, it’s about the Sichuan trip. What a relief. It was indeed time to address it. As I prepared to respond, she continued. “Because of that, my father would like to meet you. Are you free today?” “...” I found myself clamming up at her words. Her father referred to the Poison King. …The Poison King wanted to see me? A peculiar chill crept over me. Tang Soryeol added more. “He said our side will take care of the meal! They promised it would be at a very good restaurant!” “…Ah….” The Poison King was arranging the meal I was to eat. There wasn’t a single strange word in what she said, yet the unease wouldn’t shake, likely due to his infamous nickname. It must be my imagination, right? It had to be.