The elders’ residence, Jingjeongwon , was thrown into confusion over an unprecedented event.
The Youngest Master, Gold-necked Hwan, had suddenly and unexpectedly submitted a proposal to discipline Elder Lee Cheongmyeong.
“The Youngest Master personally submitted the proposal?”
“I heard he directly handed the disciplinary recommendation to Sangmudang. The reason given was recklessness.”
“Hah. That’s ridiculous.”
“It’s been a while since the elders’ meeting had a topic about disciplining an elder.”
“Exactly.”
Many of the elders found the situation intriguing.
Since the elders themselves decided on disciplinary matters, the proposal was practically meaningless.
But it was precisely because of that that it held significance.
“He must be really serious this time.”
“Whatever did that elder do at Okmyogak?”
Many elders asked, but Lee Cheongmyeong didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he scanned them cautiously, wary of who among them might be an elder secretly aiming at the Hwanggeum Family.
“I don’t know. For now, I’ll attend sincerely. Ah, and I’ll handle the procedures myself. Since this trouble started because of me.”
Lee Cheongmyeong finally gave a resigned answer and turned to leave. As his robe disappeared and the gates of Jingjeongwon closed behind him, all the elders looked silently toward the door.
***
Jichul cracked his neck from side to side.
Come to think of it, there was no way out of this situation. Gold-necked Hwan was nothing more than a brat younger than himself.
And unlike other clans, this was the only clan that always sided with direct lineage and the in-laws alike.
Besides, Gold-necked Hwan wasn’t especially strong physically. In particular, he never even saw him practicing any Mugong while serving as his personal attendant.
Still, fighting back was another matter. If that brat dared to throw another underhanded stab, Jichul decided he’d grab his wrist and hold him back.
That was Jichul’s plan.
At the end of the alchemy, only the personal attendant in charge could unlock the latch set from outside.
“Hoo.”
Jichul unlatched the door exactly at dawn, thinking Gold-necked Hwan was probably still asleep.
What would Gold-necked Hwan be like? Crying from hunger, collapsed weakly on his bed, or just staring blankly out the window?
Jichul smirked as he pulled the latch on Okmyogak’s front door all the way open.
“Whoa, what!”
He immediately shouted. Gold-necked Hwan was neither cowering as he expected nor weakened in any way.
The boy stood right in front of the door, eyes sharp and dark like a ghost.
“You’re that surprised?”
Gold-necked Hwan cast an indifferent look his way. Something was off. He should be standing firm and defiant, but his gaze kept drifting downward as if drawn to the ground.
It had only been five days, but Gold-necked Hwan had changed so strangely.
It was just a feeling that couldn’t be explained.
“I’ve got a lot to handle today.”
Jichul couldn’t fathom what had happened to the Youngest Master to emerge with such a weak gaze and spirit after only five days.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
“I’ll eat after I finish everything.”
Jichul immediately dropped the formalities before Gold-necked Hwan.
It was the fastest movement he had made since entering the Hwanggeum Family.
***
Jichul raised the curtain and looked out the window. The view from Geongon Pavilion was uniquely charming in a way that differed from Okmyogak.
Geumwolsang must have had some thoughts; he had guided me to the quietest room.
The room was occupied only by his personal attendant No In, Geumwolsang, and myself.
No In quietly tilted the Jasa-ho to fill both our first cups.
He shook the cup of appropriately cooled Gimun Hongcha. The delicate red tint reflected its fame as a specialty of Anhui.
Since the Hwanggeum Family was located in Gangseo, adjacent to Anhui, Gimun Hongcha was relatively abundant.
Geumwolsang and I sipped simultaneously. The cool sweetness intertwined with smoky notes.
“Today, I submitted Elder Lee Cheongmyeong’s disciplinary case to Sangmudang.”
“Hmm.”
Geumwolsang immediately spat out the hot tea. Luckily, he tilted his head down, so I avoided being splashed.
He looked at me without a trace of embarrassment, despite the tea on his chin.
“Why?”
“I held him accountable for entering without notice.”
I said as casually as possible. Geumwolsang, on the other hand, seemed much more serious.
“Do you understand the meaning of what you’ve done?”
“Sangmudang must have been shocked.”
Of course, I knew well the repercussions when I put Lee Cheongmyeong on trial.
External affairs were handled by a separate department, and family matters were under Sangdandang, responsible for the clan’s overall budget, accounting, and support.
“I’m worried. I don’t know how much you understand, but the family is entangled with too many external powers. It’s not yet time to reveal our cards.”
“Do you have any cards to play?”
I looked at Geumwolsang, curious about what he was doing. That was why I had come to Geongon Pavilion.
Since a rebellion attempt hadn’t been reported to Jungwon, I didn’t have high expectations.
Unlike my bleak outlook, Geumwolsang finally looked as if the time had come, his gaze solemn as he rose.
“I’ll show you my card.”
I gulped down the rest of my tea and followed him. He headed toward the main entrance, ascended the stairs, and took several turns down the hallway before entering a room tucked in a corner.
The room, styled like a storage area, looked deliberately cluttered with miscellaneous items scattered about.
Soon, Geumwolsang turned on the lights and reached for the ceiling’s main beam.
The wooden paneling peeled away from his hand, revealing a horseshoe-shaped door handle inside.
Geumwolsang opened the door and climbed up; I followed behind.
Honestly, I thought it was a predictable trick.
There was no smell of dust or old wood upon opening the door, the clutter looked too new, and the wallpaper was visibly peeling off.
I wondered if the elders already knew about this but were allowing it to remain hidden.
But as I passed through the door, I corrected my assumption.
“There’s a Jinbeop set here that erases ki signatures from this point.”
“…Can even a Jinbeop master feel the effects of a Jinbeop set?”
“No, this is different.”
It wasn’t because I understood Jinbeop, but because the Sangdanjeon, which was highly sensitive to ki, was open nearby.
Judging by the precision of the Jinbeop, it required some sort of mechanical device.
The room was surprisingly spacious. It was at the top of the building, so there was considerable space.
Uncharacteristically for the Hwanggeum Family, the wooden walls displayed a few swords and some books.
“There’s Park Noya who brewed the tea for us. That person put some effort into this. He called a Jinbeop master named Cheongso.”
“Can it fool outside observers?”
“It’s made quite well.”
I nodded absentmindedly but was quite surprised. Despite limitations, the passage directly linked outside still held significant value.
Geumwolsang must have planned something like this in his previous life too.
Attempts to normalize the family had been frequent even in his past life.
I nodded again and said,
“So this is your card. You practice Mugong here separately?”
“That’s right. I’ll show you a move. I don’t know how you, who know nothing of Mugong, will see it, but at least it’ll be entertaining.”
Geumwolsang immediately drew a sword with a blue scabbard mounted on the wall.
I instinctively sat in the corner. It was only the second time in my life watching Mugong.
The first was when I saw the Murim Alliance fighters shortly before I died in my past life.
But back then, I hadn’t thought about it seriously. So, this was the first time I had really encountered Mugong.
“This is called the Igungcheonroe Sword Technique.”
Geumwolsang’s body was enveloped in blue jin gi. Since I was ignorant of the states of martial artists, I had no idea how powerful it was.
Soon he moved his feet. This was the bojutsu or footwork technique.
I opened the Sangdanjeon. When it’s open, the flow of ki is visible.
Miraculously, as the bojutsu began, jin gi formed beneath his feet, and the earth’s energy shifted.
He harmonized the ground he was standing on with his own ki.
I thought that must be the essence of bojutsu.
Geumwolsang moved his feet rapidly, covering four directions. His feet moved busily, and the jin gi in the ground responded accordingly.
The flow between his feet and the earth became synchronized, speeding up his movements.
Following the bojutsu, the sword technique flowed.
The Igungcheonroe Sword Technique unleashed strikes that looked like reversed lightning bolts crackling with fierce energy.
The sword was as strong and fast as lightning. I couldn’t follow the quick swings with my eyes, but I clearly felt the precise movements of ki.
The sword seemed to thrust forward, twisting the wrist and stabbing continuously like a spear.
The ki flow was felt with each transition of the technique, but the break in flow each time the stance changed made me furrow my brow slightly.
Geumwolsang displayed four techniques before sheathing the sword. Though it was a brief display not even taking a minute, his face was drenched in sweat.
“Thank you for your effort.”
“How was it?”
“Impressive.”
I still knew nothing about Mugong, so I held back from commenting on the ki flow.
“The Sambobeom was especially good.”
When I said that, Geumwolsang made a strange expression. Then, after seemingly sorting out his thoughts, he returned to a gentle expression.
“What do you mean?”
“The Injaro Baeshin move.”
At my gesture, Geumwolsang’s expression shifted again—first strange, then surprised.
“That was bojutsu?”
“I could feel the ki.”
“Hah.”
Geumwolsang sighed.
“Unbelievable to see a sword technique even Park Noya can’t follow.”
“Park Noya?”
“That person isn’t extraordinary, but in at least one skill, he’s recognized as a master.”
I recalled Park Noya’s face with new respect. A man who looked worn out and unable to do much besides drink tea was still a martial artist.
In a way, I’d been a little negligent. I usually avoided opening the Sangdanjeon because its operation sped up the brain, and keeping it open constantly would cause headaches.
But this was my first visit here. I had to gather some information.
“I see.”
I reflected lightly. Geumwolsang continued looking at me with a strange gaze.
“I thought I had a decent card, but showing it to my younger brother made me look foolish.”
“No, it was good.”
To be honest, changing the entire family by force of will alone was impossible, so it was a futile effort.
The important thing wasn’t the height of Mugong mastery but the expansion of external influence—and from Geumwolsang’s point of view, that was nearly impossible.
So he was doing his best.
“You’ve been working hard.”
“I have no choice but to.”
“Why?”
I was curious. It was a situation worth giving up on. In my previous life, I had already given up.
I was born already bound, and it required too much energy to unravel complicated problems.
Though I knew the future, making my burden lighter, Geumwolsang was running forward blindly.
“That’s the bind of the attendant. That’s why I’m aiming for the successor. I want you all to escape from this family.”
“Huh?”
I asked sincerely.
“Aren’t we family from the start? There’s no reason to think otherwise.”
In his past life, Geumwolsang must have thought the same and acted accordingly. The same went for me, Geumhwa Cheong, and Geum Surin.
“There’s no reason for a family to protect the family. I believe I was born with that fate.”
“My thoughts were too short-sighted.”
I had been too indifferent to my brothers. No, I was indifferent to people themselves.
But now I understood. With that mindset, nothing could be better for me.
What I did was a small action. The difference between this life and my past life was only five days.
Except for alchemy, it was just one day. Such a dramatic change in just a day.
And I had no intention of standing by and watching this change.
“You said it’s not yet time to reveal your card. I’ll answer that now.”
“Huh?”
Suddenly, Geumwolsang looked startled at the change of subject. But regardless, I continued.
“You said the family is currently controlled by many powers. Too many, in fact. We can’t act recklessly.”
“Yes. If you know that, then why…”
“That’s because the opposing powers are also involved.”
At my words, Geumwolsang narrowed his eyes. He looked like he didn’t understand.
“The powers want to consume us, but their rivals are not us. It’s other forces targeting the family. This unstable balance may not last long. That’s why we must expose as much as possible quickly. Not necessarily a threat, but enough to make them aware. Then those forces will compete more fiercely and delay their agreements.”
Geumwolsang’s eyes darkened the more I spoke.
“My direct proposal to Sangmudang has two purposes besides what I mentioned earlier. When a disciplinary elders’ meeting is held, they ask the elders outside whether they will attend. If there’s an elder outside hostile to us, they’ll learn there’s another variable when we take over the Hwanggeum Family. At the same time, those who want to protect us will also learn this fact.”
“…Who are the ones wanting to protect us?”
I hesitated mid-sentence. If I explained now, they would surely not understand.
“Maybe in about fifteen days, they’ll find out.”
“Huh?”
Ignoring Geumwolsang’s bewildered face, I stood, rubbing my knees. The secret martial hall was stuffy and hot with the doors closed.
After checking outside, I cautiously opened the door. Geumwolsang kept mouthing words silently as he watched me.
“Ten days of investigation, then you laughed. You’ll be here within five days.”
With that, I relaxed my grip on the floor of the martial hall and descended into the storage room.
***
A luxurious chair embroidered with red silk and gold sat at the edge of the floor, raised on a platform.
The chair’s width was not narrow by any means, but the seated man’s massive frame made it appear cramped.
He smiled, a small mole on his cheek catching the light.
The man delivering the letter looked surprised and said,
“This is the first time I’ve seen someone in the family receive a letter from the clan and actually find it amusing.”
“It’s amusing.”
The man kept folding and unfolding the letter, laughing every time he looked at it.
Chuckling, he folded the letter in half, tucked it into his chest, and looked down, asking,
“How long does it take from here to Namchang?”
“I’d say ten days.”
“Five days is more than enough.”
The man rose, stretching his large body. It had been a long time since he’d been to the family.