TOTMO 02

Chapter 2

“Yes. Speak.”

Even Cheongjin, Cheongun’s father, sometimes felt a chill run down his spine when he met his father’s gaze.

After all, this was a person who had become a living incarnation of Cheonggeumjang’s prestige.

“It seems Cheongun has some talent in martial arts.”
“Some talent? Only some?”
“The Three Masters said it was exceptional, not ordinary.”
“Our clan head… do you remember what I’ve always told you?”
“…Yes. I remember.”

In a family that isn’t ordinary, ordinariness is poison.

A special family must have something special.

It doesn’t matter what, but it must be special enough to protect what one already possesses.

“Since you say you remember, I won’t say more, but a talent that isn’t outstanding can be more of a curse than a blessing.”

Cheongjin still remembered those words.

Cheonggeumjang was a place where no talent could ever be called merely “special.”

And if it was martial arts, even more so.

Martial arts can be learned.
By using the talents one already has.

But the ability to cultivate talent cannot be bought or taught.

The reason was simple.

It requires loyalty and integrity.

Even if one embezzles a little money, without the wisdom and knowledge to use it, it’s useless.

Even discovering it would be nearly impossible.

“Not yet. He’s only five years old.”
“Has he learned to read?”

Though he was the former clan head, he was also one of the busiest people alive.

“He learned it all by three.”
“Hmm… that’s good.”

Cheongjin’s response was quite positive. That was saying a lot.

“Father, may we enter now?”

At that moment, his wife Sowol’s voice called out.

“Yes. Come in.”

The door, so tall it seemed like a fortress wall, opened, and Sowol entered with Cheongun.

First impressions were always more important than expected.

Cheongun’s expressionless gaze was fixed on no one else but his grandfather.

‘Huh, impressive….’

Wasn’t that a remarkable gaze?

There was no vague affection for a grandfather he was seeing for the first time, only an intent to study and understand him.

This was the extent to which blood relatives were allowed to observe.

The ability to study, to perceive—that was the only privilege blood could grant.

“Former clan head, I greet you.”

Sowol’s greeting ended, and Cheongun followed with his own.

“Greetings to the former clan head.”

His words were mature for his age, though his movements still carried the innocence of a child.

Cheongjin liked this about him even more.

One came from natural personality, the other from inexperience.

“Former clan head…”

Even though he knew he was a grandfather, he still used the formal title. That pleased Cheongjin.

“Ah, our grandson. Come here.”
“Yes, grandfather.”

The word “grandson” finally brought back the acknowledgment of grandfather.

He hadn’t been told to say “former clan head”; he said it because he knew.

Was this a formal or informal meeting?

It didn’t matter. What mattered was how Cheongjin, the former clan head, judged the occasion.

Since he first called him “grandson,” the meeting shifted from formal to personal.

“You are five this year, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Give me your hand.”

Normally, this would have been a quick glance and nothing more.

Yet Cheongun handed over his hand willingly.

Cheongjin, the grandfather of Cheongun and former head of Cheonggeumjang, was a master of the highest caliber.

Though talented in martial arts, his true genius lay elsewhere.

In wealth.

He had a natural talent for gathering wealth.

“Huh…”

When Cheongjin held Cheongun’s wrist and sent internal energy through, he could feel it instantly.

‘Pure and steady.’

The clear, pure internal energy was centered in Cheongun’s dantian. Its scale wasn’t massive yet, but to have a dantian at the age of five was nothing short of innate genius.

‘This is no ordinary talent.’

A talent that can’t become the best is merely a curse.

Cheongjin’s experience of endlessly doubting his own abilities while building Cheonggeumjang’s fortune on this vast continent spoke for itself.

Looking at the current state of Hwanginjang now, it was clear.

“What do you want to do, Cheongun?”

Cheongun answered immediately, without changing expression.

“I want to do everything.”
“Everything?”

How many people in this world can do everything they desire?

Even he could not.

“Then tell me another thing. What do you want to become?”

Cheongun’s expression shifted slightly.

It was a look of childish audacity, of confidence.

But there was no trace of falsity.

“The greatest in the world.”
“The… greatest?”

Was it childish bravado?

A naive child’s words?

No, Cheongjin did not think so.

Hearing it separately might make it seem like childish pride, but taken together with his previous answer, it was different.

He wanted to do everything and become the greatest.

On this land, there are three things that can be called power:

Strength, wealth, and influence.

To possess one is rare even in a lifetime. To possess all three? Never in history.

Even having two was almost impossible.

“Very well. I understand. Now go back.”
“Yes, grandfather.”

Cheongun, with Sowol, bowed more expertly this time before leaving.

“What do you think?”
“Not bad.”
“There’s something I haven’t told you yet.”
“What is it?”

Usually, hiding something makes a person hesitate, but looking at his son’s expression, there was no hesitation.

It was more like he had been waiting for this very moment.

“I never taught Cheongun the Cheonyeoshimgong.”
“…What?”

Impossible, isn’t it? How could he have learned what no one taught him?

Many can follow instructions well, even surpass them, but few can learn without being taught.

‘It was definitely Cheonyeoshimgong.’

A pure, flawless mastery of Cheonyeoshimgong.

Though Cheonyeoshimgong couldn’t surpass the unique martial arts of other great families, it was by no means inferior.

The process of sensing the dantian for the first time is extremely difficult, and few have reached mastery of it.

‘This is more than just extraordinary.’

This was a genius the history of Cheonggeumjang had never seen.

No, a prodigy of the highest order, perhaps even in all of martial society.

“…Father?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve called me three times already.”
“…Have I?”

He had never lost himself in thought like this before.

One brief encounter with his grandson had caused this depth of contemplation.

“Jina.”
“Yes, Father.”
“Do you know what I expect of you?”
“To protect it, you said.”
“Yes. I want Cheonggeumjang, as I’ve built it, to be taken or lost by no one.”

When his father spoke more than usual, it meant something important was coming.

“Yes. You said that and commanded it.”
“It wasn’t because you were inadequate.”
“I know that too.”

Wealth was merely a tool for Cheonggeumjang.

It allowed more possibilities, but was not an end in itself.

Even rare elixirs and herbs were nothing before innate talent.

Though Cheongjin had done his best for his son, limitations remained.

Still, like father like son, his son had completed the pinnacle, albeit not the absolute peak.

“I must act personally.”
“You mean, Father?”

It had already been ten years since his father had intervened directly.

For him to rise personally meant Cheongun’s potential was far greater than expected.

“I’ll take a short journey to seek the best elixirs—Daehwandan, Jahashindan, and others.”

These were elixirs known only by name, forbidden for outsiders.

“And leave Cheongun as he is.”
“Leave him as he is?”
“Those with genius are not to be molded by ordinary talent.”

The very idea of teaching him would be arrogance.

His grandson had awakened Cheonyeoshimgong by himself.

Cheongun needed no teacher.

What he needed was the freedom to try everything himself.

“Oh, he has talent in literacy too.”
“Yes. He seems to never forget what he reads.”
“Both scholarly and martial talent, haha!”

It was the first time his father laughed so freely.

“Give him books. Not easy ones. Children like Cheongun need stimulation.”
“Do you mean difficult texts?”
“Yes. When I first saw Cheongun, do you know what struck me most?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Boredom.”
“Boredom?”
“Yes.”

Cheongjin could not understand. Why would a child who had never seen these texts feel bored?

Seeing Cheongjin’s confusion, Cheongjin’s father smiled faintly.

“You don’t understand why he’s bored?”
“Yes. I don’t.”
“No. Cheongun finds things that are immediately understandable boring.”

He could understand them, but they were not challenging enough to hold his attention.

‘Such talent…’

“Gather only the best. Everything he reads, wears, eats must be the finest.”
“Yes, Father.”

His father’s eye for talent was precise.

Cheongun was a seed of genius in Cheonggeumjang, and the land itself had to nurture him until he blossomed.

From today, a new wind began to blow in Cheonggeumjang.

Rumors always start small.

First, it was said that Cheongjin had a son.

Now, rumors spread that Cheonggeumjang had begun buying up all the herbs and elixirs in the surrounding area.

Perhaps because of that, other rumors began circulating:

That Cheonggeumjang’s only son had an illness.

Sowol, the one who spread these rumors, was satisfied with the results and headed to the study with Cheongun.