Myung Jaehee was guided in a different direction than where I was heading. It seemed the Murim Alliance Leader wanted to meet with me alone.
Inside the Murim Alliance building was even shabbier than the outside. The ceiling was cracked, the doors crooked, the ceiling sagging, and the scent of rotting wood lingered everywhere.
The Bodyguard escorting me looked embarrassed, glancing at me while clearing his throat. Compared to my clothes, the Bodyguard’s attire was extremely worn out.
Not just the Bodyguard—even compared to the other people of the Murim Alliance, my clothes looked superior in quality.
“Who’s that kid?”
“Looks like he’s headed to the Alliance Leader’s office?”
People of the Murim Alliance whispered as they looked at me. From what Gwak Jindo had said and the reactions of those around, it seemed a private audience with the Alliance Leader wasn’t something easily granted.
“So this is the Murim Alliance, huh, not the Beggar’s Sect.”
Come to think of it, comparing beggars to the Beggar’s Sect isn’t even accurate anymore. As far as I know, the Beggar’s Sect is now the richest among the old sects.
As I wandered through the rundown Murim Alliance building, I finally arrived at a relatively tidy door. The door wasn’t warped or dull, and it even looked like it’d been lacquered recently.
“This is the Alliance Leader’s room.”
“Yes.”
As expected, this was the Alliance Leader’s room.
The Bodyguard knocked on the door. A voice came from inside.
“Come in.”
Only then did the Bodyguard politely open the door. I entered. As soon as I stepped in, I saw the office desk. Jong Ri Moon, visible only from the waist up, smiled and greeted me.
“You’re here, young lord.”
“Greetings.”
The door closed behind me. Looking around, this place was rather clean for a Murim Alliance building. All sorts of books and maps were spread out, and on the right was a small room accessible only through the Alliance Leader’s office.
I sat down in the guest chair facing the office desk.
“It seems a private meeting with the Alliance Leader is quite difficult to arrange.”
“It is.”
Jong Ri Un answered and got up. He walked over to me. I was startled for a moment. Hanging from Jong Ri Un’s waist was someone dangling. His presence was so strong I hadn’t noticed before.
“She’s practically attached to me.”
“Who is it?”
Only when I asked did the child lift her head from where she’d been hidden against Jong Ri Un. She was a girl whose shoulder reached up to his head.
“She’s my Disciple. Her name is Gal Yu-wol.”
“Ah, so you have a Disciple.”
Jong Ri Un seemed oblivious, but the girl was glaring at me fiercely. I tried meeting her gaze for just a moment, and as soon as my eyes turned toward Jong Ri Un, her stare grew even sharper.
The moment I realized this, I fixed my gaze on Jong Ri Moon.
“Right. She always sticks to me. No matter how often I tell her to leave, she never listens.”
“I see.”
“Yu-wol, come and greet our guest. You’re eleven this year, right? That makes him your O-ra-beoni.”
Gal Yu-wol half-hid behind Jong Ri Un’s legs, then gave a brief bow.
“Hello.”
Her voice was so soft that even someone with strong internal energy would have to focus to hear it.
“Well, let’s have some tea. It’s the first time someone your age has come to the Alliance Leader’s office. I’ll go get some tea leaves, so have a chat.”
Jong Ri Un forcibly set Gal Yu-wol across from me before going into the inner room.
Gal Yu-wol stared at me. Her expression was as blank as mine. Quietly, she spoke.
“Hey.”
“Yeah.”
Again, her voice was small, so I had to listen closely. Although it was as quiet as before, Gal Yu-wol’s voice was not trembling but cold.
“The Alliance Leader is my Sabu-nim.”
“I understand.”
“So leave.”
“I can’t. I have things to discuss.”
“I said get lost. Don’t you understand me?”
Gal Yu-wol’s voice and gaze became even colder. I could guess at her feelings.
But unfortunately, our conversation was cut short. Jong Ri Un returned to the room with a tea set.
The way a master brewed tea was both fascinating and simple. He poured water from a bamboo canteen onto the tea leaves and, cupping the teacup in his hand, let the tea steep.
Jong Ri Un placed the three teacups—one for each of us—across from me and beside Gal Yu-wol.
Gal Yu-wol lowered her head in silence, as if she hadn’t just spoken harshly to me.
“Thank you.”
I sipped the tea. Judging by the Murim Alliance building, I’d expected cheap black tea, but it was better than I thought.
“It’s Huangshan Maofeng. Good tea.”
“Oh, you recognize it. I first tasted it at the Namgung Sega and liked it, so I bought some, but it doesn’t taste the same as what I remember. Must be the difference in who brewed it.”
Jong Ri Un sounded disappointed. I replied at once.
“That’s not it.”
“Oh ho. Trying to act like a socialite at your age? Still a decade too early.”
“No. This is first-class Huangshan Maofeng, not the special grade. Tea leaves from Dohwa Peak and Jogyo Rock are considered special grade. They’re picked and sorted separately from the others, so the flavor is quite distinct.”
For merchants, this is basic knowledge, but for Muga People, who only consume, it isn’t. Jong Ri Un seemed to be hearing this for the first time.
“Oh, so there was that kind of difference. I thought maybe I couldn’t brew it properly. You really are knowledgeable.”
“It’s just miscellaneous learning.”
Jong Ri Un laughed heartily. He seemed genuinely pleased to have confirmation that it wasn’t his brewing that was lacking. Gal Yu-wol, seeing this, appeared to burn with even more hostility toward me. As Jong Ri Un drank his tea, I gave her a slight smile before returning to a neutral expression.
“Ahem, we have much to discuss. Yu-wol, step outside for a bit.”
Jong Ri Un’s command was firm.
It was bound to happen. No matter how much Jong Ri Un cherished Gal Yu-wol, he couldn’t have her present for official business.
Gal Yu-wol silently looked up at Jong Ri Un. Her eyes were so bright they seemed to dazzle him.
“…Well, sometimes when the other party understands, I let them stay, but—”
Jong Ri Un glanced at me, but I firmly shook my head.
“Please send her out.”
“Oh dear. I suppose I must.”
In an instant, Jong Ri Un picked up Gal Yu-wol and moved her outside, locking the door so she couldn’t come back in.
Just before the door closed, Gal Yu-wol’s eyes flashed with killing intent as she looked at me.
Jong Ri Un, looking slightly embarrassed, cleared his throat and returned to his seat.
“Sorry. She really hates being separated from me. But she’s a good kid at heart.”
“It’s fine. More importantly, let’s get to the matter at hand. You said you could help with the affairs of the Samga.”
“Yes.”
“Does that mean you’ll provide military support?”
Jong Ri Un’s gaze changed. Yes, he wasn’t just some doting old man for his Disciple. He was one of the Chiljon—Jong Ri Un, Alliance Leader of the Murim Alliance.
“That’s right. Not just military support; I’ll also provide various Specialists in personnel and logistics. Of course, we lack manpower ourselves, so we can’t send our own people, but I’ll introduce you to trustworthy individuals. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but we want the Hwanggeum Family to be restored, and we’ve been working toward that for quite some time. So don’t worry about those troops causing trouble.”
I took another sip of tea.
“I’m not worried about that. You’ve helped us plenty already. I’m just curious as to why you’ve helped us.”
“Because that’s what Jeongpa should do.”
It sounded clear, but was actually rather vague. Our Samga had been trampled by Jeongpa, Sapa, and Majyo alike, so I couldn’t really understand what he meant by “the duty of Jeongpa.”
“Hm. It doesn’t seem you’re convinced. In any case, I’m saying let’s strengthen our alliance.”
“I see.”
Jong Ri Un’s eyes were filled with conviction. He was certain his proposal wouldn’t be refused.
The Hwanggeum Family desperately needed martial power, and the Murim Alliance offered to provide it. We had no reason—or option—to refuse.
But that alone wasn’t enough. I hadn’t come here just to secure a handful of stationed troops.
“Of course, I’m also here with the alliance in mind. But…”
Now it was time to take the initiative.
“The support the Alliance Leader offers is already sufficient for us.”
***
Jong Ri Un looked at the delicate face of Gold-necked Hwan, who was as slender as a girl. If he and his Disciple Gal Yu-wol stood together, they’d look more like sisters than brother and sister.
But despite his gentle appearance, the content of his words was astonishing.
“…Heh heh. Rebuilding an entire Samga requires more people and knowledge than you might think. What we’re offering is to fill that gap.”
“As I said, it’s enough. I can handle the rest myself.”
Jong Ri Un was at a loss for words. He knew this child was extraordinary. The Biyun Gakju had insisted that, even if the Hwanggeum Family fell, they must bring that young lord with them. Even the idea of bringing him to the Murim Alliance had been floated. To gather such a force at his young age could only mean genius.
He was certain this child would do well in other matters, too. You can tell a lot from a little. But to refuse Specialists outright? Was he truly confident in every field?
“Are you really saying you know and can handle it all yourself?”
“I know everything.”
He was intelligent, sure, but could he really be an expert in every field? It was hard to believe.
“So you’re saying you can answer whatever questions I might have right now?”
“I can discuss any topic, though I can’t say if you’ll be satisfied.”
Jong Ri Un let out a hollow laugh.
At this point, he even began to worry. Gold-necked Hwan was so clever that perhaps he’d grown arrogant, aware of his own brilliance.
But that was understandable. He was still a child. Still, it was the role of a good adult to temper that. Jong Ri Un cleared his throat and spoke earnestly.
“Young lord, shall I teach you something you might not know?”
“I know. Knowing what you know, and admitting what you don’t, right?”
‘Knowing what you know, and knowing what you don’t know, that is true wisdom.’ He had been about to quote the Analects, but Gold-necked Hwan already knew it.
Jong Ri Un resolved to humble this young prodigy.
***
Jong Ri Un stared at Gold-necked Hwan’s face as he thought.
“A genius, or a demon…”
Gold-necked Hwan had already proven his words were no bluff. He truly had every plan in place for the reconstruction of the Samga, and they were perfect.
At this point, Jong Ri Un’s questions were driven only by curiosity and pride.
“…That’s why there has to be a difference between the Samjae Sword Art and the Taiji Sword Art. Taiji gives rise to Yin and Yang, Yin and Yang produce the Ohaeng, Heaven and Earth give birth to Man and Woman, and from those two energies, all things are born. Isn’t the concept of the Three Fundamentals—Heaven, Earth, and Man—derived from this? While all you need is the vision to see Heaven, the feet to tread Earth, and enough self-awareness to perceive yourself, truly perceiving Taeguk requires constant enlightenment…”
Gold-necked Hwan’s answer far exceeded Jong Ri Un’s expectations. He wasn’t a child genius; he was already a fully-formed one.
The Samjae Sword Art and Taiji Sword Art are both Daoist sword arts—so why is one a supreme martial art, while the other is traded in the marketplace…?
To answer such a question in this way at twelve years old—was there anyone else in the Central Plains like this?
He could already apply his realizations to martial arts. Of course, being able to explain it didn’t mean one was necessarily strong, but if that insight combined with martial power, he’d only become stronger.
Jong Ri Un recalled reports from the south that Gold-necked Hwan devoted himself to martial arts. One might think such knowledge would only come from books, but he hardly read and only practiced.
He also knew that Gold-necked Hwan had killed Hyeong-san’s Adopted Son. But Jong Ri Moon hadn’t thought much of it. Not every promising prodigy becomes a master. Only a few reach first-rate skill, and even fewer make it further.
And perhaps Hyeong-san’s Adopted Son wasn’t as talented as Hyeong-san claimed.
“Is he maybe just proud of winning that duel?”
Still, that didn’t change the fact that Gold-necked Hwan was a rare talent. In several places during this conversation, he’d given answers that shocked Jong Ri Un.
What made this unbelievable was that his conversation partner was Jong Ri Un the Sword Sovereign. In the martial world, reaching the absolute peak is possible through training alone, but to go beyond requires enlightenment.
To reach even higher, one must also cultivate the mind. That a Sword Sovereign, with such wisdom and insight, was now conversing on various topics with a twelve-year-old… If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he’d have called it utter nonsense.
“Really…”
How could someone have read all the classic texts in just twelve years, be an expert on everything from logistics in the Woo-do Room to formations in the Jinbeop Room?
Throughout history, has there ever been such a child? No. He could say so with certainty. What did martial strength matter? There were those who shook the world without any martial prowess at all.
Those who’ve reached Jicheonmyeong always get excited when they meet an outstanding child. Jong Ri Moon’s heart pounded. The Biyun Gakju had spoken highly of him, but even he probably didn’t realize how extraordinary Gold-necked Hwan truly was.
Which meant this prodigy was a treasure known only to himself.
“Hm, yes, let’s end the Mun Dam here for now. The topic was straying.”
“As you wish.”
Jong Ri Un looked at this mysterious young life. What, exactly, did this child want? Amusingly, the Sword Sovereign of the world felt tense before a child.
“Then, tell me what you want.”
“I wish to see my father.”
Father. He meant the Gaju of the Hwanggeum Family.
In fact, Jong Ri Un had suspected as much. The most necessary thing in restoring a Samga wasn’t money or manpower, but the central figure of the Gaju.
With the Gaju missing, the drive was gone. The Gaju’s role was more important than anything in a Samga.
Normally, it would be absolutely forbidden. It would only increase the number of people privy to the secret, with no benefit.
Jong Ri Un stroked his chin, tapping his cheek with a finger. His deliberation was brief.
“All right.”
For the first time, Gold-necked Hwan’s usually impassive face twitched as he picked up his teacup. He clearly hadn’t expected to be accepted so readily.
“But in return, you’ll join the Murim Alliance.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
Jong Ri Un had thought Gold-necked Hwan would at least hesitate a little. But his answer came instantly. Now it was Jong Ri Un who was caught off guard.
“…Why not? Isn’t this a great opportunity? Within the Murim Alliance, you’d be protected, and could learn whatever you want. In fact, the Biyun Gakju’s report says you’ve been practicing martial arts every day lately. If you joined the Murim Alliance, there are many martial arts in the Muhak Seogo, and plenty of people to teach you.”
“I already have the Outer General as my Sabu-nim. He is more than enough.”
“Cheonryuyuseong Sword is a great martial artist, but when the Samga gets busy, he’ll have to shoulder important responsibilities. He won’t have much time for you. Even now, don’t you train alone every day? At your age, training alone is inefficient. If you join the Murim Alliance, step by step—”
Gold-necked Hwan put down his teacup with a clear ring that echoed in the room.
“Thank you for your offer, but I’m fine on my own. At least, I won’t be joining the Murim Alliance for the sake of martial arts.”
Then, Gold-necked Hwan gave a sideways smile.
“I happen to have talent.”
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