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Chapter 6
Two days before the Jo Clan’s Yeongseo Chochin, the area in front of Haegang’s house became crowded with people who were at least familiar faces around the neighborhood.
He might have only been the Haeweon of the Hyangsi, but once he passed the remaining two examinations, he would become someone destined for an official career.
That was why people who had any connection to him—or even those who had none—were desperately squeezing out whatever acquaintance they could claim, all in the hope of putting their faces in front of Haegang one more time.
Even so, Haegang’s grandmother warmly welcomed every visitor who came.
She spent the entire day receiving guests and chatting with them, and the smile never left her face.
Haegang could not bring himself to stop her.
How could he not understand the desire of a grandmother who had raised her grandson through hardship and now wanted to boast about the great thing he had accomplished?
And so, between meeting familiar faces and strangers alike, two days passed before he even realized it.
Early the next morning, Haegang rose from bed.
His grandmother, who was a light sleeper, asked him,
“Where are you going?”
“…I’m going to participate in the Jo Clan’s Yeongseo Chochin.”
“The Jo Clan? Chochin? You mean that martial family?”
“Yes…”
…
For a Geoin who had passed the Hyangsi, a scholar who had spent his entire life reading books, to apply for a place where a martial family was selecting a son-in-law was strange even to an elderly woman who knew little about the ways of the world.
Yet Haegang’s grandmother merely rose from her old body, looked at him for a moment, and quietly nodded.
“That young lady is very pretty. Her heart seems just as beautiful as her face. She must be a good match for you. I’m only worried because our family is so humble.”
“Don’t worry. There isn’t a person in the Central Plains who would dare call the household of a woman recognized by Her Majesty the Empress Dowager humble. I’ll be back. I’ve already spoken with the medical hall and the Ga Family Cloth Shop, so medicine and clothes will be delivered. Someone from Gyeontaekpo will also come, so even if you’re tired, please look over the houses they show you.”
[Gyeontaekpo: A real estate brokerage service.]
“Gyeontaekpo? But if we leave the house empty…”
“Don’t worry. We already entrusted the silk and jewelry to the money house.”
The rumor that Haegang had received imperial gifts after becoming Haeweon had spread throughout Piljeol.
Haegang was not foolish enough to leave those gifts sitting at home.
More than anything, he had to be especially careful because the Black Path might be watching them.
What kind of audacious thief would dare touch gifts bestowed by the Imperial Palace?
Still, there were plenty of people who lived as though each day might be their last, so it was better to prepare for the possibility.
Now that he could provide his grandmother with a better house where she could live comfortably, Haegang left home with a light step.
Even though the sun had only just begun to rise, a considerable crowd had already gathered in front of the manor bearing the signboard of the Hyeoljoga.
There were countless men who looked to be around forty, as well as men who appeared to be around thirty.
There were also quite a few boys who had only recently shed the appearance of children and were still under twenty.
Those damn bandits.
Seeing men of such an age lining up to take a fifteen-year-old girl as their wife caused Haegang’s brows to furrow deeply.
After standing in line for quite some time, it finally became Haegang’s turn.
The man sitting down and writing names in the register did not even bother looking at him before speaking.
“What clan?”
The man had immediately spoken down to him after seeing his small frame and shabby clothing.
But Haegang answered confidently.
“The Mun Family of Piljeol.”
“The Mun Family? Name?”
“Mun Haegang.”
“Mun Haegang? Could it be…? Aren’t you the boy who often spent time with the young lady?”
The man’s brush stopped above the register, and his gaze lifted toward Haegang’s face.
“Yes. That’s right.”
At his answer, a look of contempt appeared around the man’s eyes.
Among the Hyeoljoga warriors, there were few who did not know that Yeonhwa had one of the few childhood friends in the neighborhood.
But there was no way they could look favorably upon a boy with such an insignificant background participating in the Yeongseo Chochin.
Without saying anything, the man jerked his chin toward one side.
It was his way of telling Haegang to leave rather than even think about crossing the Jo Clan’s threshold.
The only reason he did not use harsher words was because Haegang had some connection with Yeonhwa.
If he had not known her at all, the man would have shouted at him for daring to make light of the Jo Clan.
Already, more than a hundred men had been insulted and left the grounds with their spirits crushed in exactly this manner.
Instead of leaving, Haegang tossed a wooden tablet onto the desk in front of the indifferent man.
“Next…”
—Thud.
The man, who was about to call the next applicant, frowned deeply when the wooden tablet landed on the register and glared at Haegang.
But Haegang simply looked calmly at the tablet he had thrown.
Only then did the man follow Haegang’s gaze and look down at it.
His eyes widened.
“A Geoin?!”
He had certainly heard the rumor two days ago.
A young scholar from the Mun Family, raised solely by his grandmother in some remote corner of Piljeol, had become the Haeweon.
Apparently, even the Emperor’s mother had been moved to tears by the circumstances of that household and had bestowed gifts upon them.
But it was not an interesting enough rumor for a warrior of a martial family to pay attention to, so the man had simply thought, So that happened.
Yet the Geoin standing before him was that very insignificant-looking boy.
“Am I unqualified?”
“No… No, you’re not. Please, go inside.”
The man hurriedly raised his tone and extended a hand toward the wide-open gate.
At the same time, a warrior standing beside him handed Haegang a small wooden tablet.
The black tablet was made of ebony, and the number 28 was engraved on it.
It seemed that among all the people who had been lining up since early morning, only twenty-eight had managed to cross the Jo Clan’s threshold so far.
The moment Haegang entered the Jo Clan’s grounds, a sword-bearing warrior hurried over and began guiding him.
Following a complicated path where tall buildings rose chaotically toward the sky, they eventually arrived at a spacious detached compound.
Extremely high walls surrounded it on all four sides, yet the area was so vast that it did not feel cramped.
Small ponds, pavilions, flowers, and trees were arranged throughout the grounds.
Aside from the Hyeoljoga warriors, dozens of men had already filled the place.
Their ages ranged from their teens to their thirties.
Haegang clenched both fists tightly.
Then he felt the first hostile gaze land upon him.
He turned toward the piercing stare.
The Idiot Trio.
The damned trio who had sent the Black Path after him were glaring at him.
Haegang barely suppressed the urge to smash their heads open on the spot.
He met their eyes directly and continued walking.
Under ordinary circumstances, those men would have caused a scene.
Instead, they stiffened and quickly looked away.
Whether it was because they were in the very heart of the Jo Clan or because they were now reluctant to provoke Haegang, who had become a Geoin, he could not tell.
A long table had been set up in front of the detached compound.
It was laden with precious fruits, liquor, and various drinks.
Yet not a single person seemed willing to touch the food.
The men had spread themselves apart, keeping their distance from one another while watching each other warily.
Haegang walked straight through them and began eating the fruits and drinking the beverages laid out on the table.
Even more gazes fell upon him.
Haegang paid them no attention.
They put the food here for us to eat. What, do they think they’re too refined to touch it? This isn’t the Dang Clan.
If this had been the Dang Clan, Haegang would have understood the men’s behavior.
But this was the Jo Clan.
More specifically, this was the Hyeoljoga, which had built this enormous manor in Piljeol through nothing but the Jo Clan’s sword techniques.
There was no way the Jo Clan would commit the heinous act of poisoning food during a Yeongseo Chochin.
There was a proper conduct for a host and a proper conduct for a guest.
If the host had shown courtesy, then ignoring that courtesy was not proper behavior for a guest.
Once Haegang sat down and began eating the food on the table, a man who looked to be around twenty followed him and sat beside him.
The young man was dressed entirely in black.
“Brother. Mind if I join you?”
“You’ve already joined me. Why are you asking?”
The man was not carrying a weapon, but his light and agile movements made it obvious that he was a martial artist.
He was an exceptionally handsome man dressed in black.
When Haegang answered him, the man smiled and casually reached for the gourd-shaped flask that was releasing the fragrance of liquor.
Baekju Shinsal.
Haegang recognized the man’s identity from his face alone.
His sect was unknown, but within ten years, his reputation would spread beyond Guizhou and throughout the entire Central Plains.
He would one day kill a first-generation disciple of Wudang in broad daylight in Henan—the land where Mount Song stood as a great mountain of the martial world—and then leisurely return to Guizhou.
He was one of the brightest stars among the younger generation of the unorthodox path.
Even afterward, among the countless martial artists who rose like stars of the Four Emperors Castle, he would stand out, earning a reputation that would eventually place him among the ranks of the great masters.
His name was Baekju Shinsal Bi Sinju.
In his previous life, merely encountering this famous master several times had been enough to make Haegang’s knees tremble.
Yet now, Haegang remained calm.
So this guy participated in the Yeongseo Chochin too? Doesn’t he have anything better to do?
To the current Haegang, even a future great master was nothing more than one of the romantic rivals he needed to send back home.
Right now, neither a man’s reputation nor his martial prowess mattered to Haegang.
Among the dozens of men gathered here, there was only one spot available as the son-in-law.
That was his only goal.
Remembering once again the vow he had made—to protect Yeonhwa even if he had to become a dog—Haegang strengthened his resolve.
He casually glanced at the man sitting beside him.
He looked at the fellow who had come here with nothing better to do than marry a young woman.
As Haegang continued picking at the food, more and more people continued to fill the compound.
As the number of people increased, the empty spaces around the food table also gradually disappeared.
“Huh?! Isn’t that Brother Bang?”
The Idiot Trio, who had been pushed all the way to the corner of the garden by the increasingly overwhelming presence of the martial artists, suddenly recognized someone entering the detached compound.
They greeted him with delight.
The man called Brother Bang was a man who appeared to be well past twenty.
He entered with a long judge’s pen strapped to his back.
A thin, long beard resembling a catfish hung unattractively from his face.
The Idiot Trio swarmed around him like dogs who had found their master.
Who was he again?
Haegang vaguely remembered seeing him at least once, but he could not immediately recall who he was.
While Haegang rummaged through his memories, the man confidently led the idiots surrounding him and took a seat right in the middle of the food table.
The Idiot Trio naturally followed him and took their seats as well.
“Brother Bang. I heard you entered the Pilgongmun, but what happened? You even passed the Hyangsi and became a Geoin, so why would you enter a martial sect…?”
Baek Yeongjun let his question trail off.
The man raised one corner of his mouth.
“Then why are students of Hyeonhak who have already become Saengwon here at a martial family’s Chochin?”
“That…”
“Well…”
…
The three men could not produce a clear answer and merely trailed off.
“I simply realized that traveling the martial world and pursuing my ambitions gives me far more freedom to live my life than becoming dependent on the state’s salary. Whether it’s the literary path or the martial path, what matters is being able to pursue one’s own ambitions.”
“Ah! As expected of Brother Bang!”
As Haegang watched the man grandly embellish himself, a fragment of an old memory flashed through his mind.
Ah! Bang Judeok. That’s right. Ganpil Hori, the man who was expelled from Pilgongmun and eventually drifted into the Green Forest.
Pilgongmun was a sect standing between the orthodox and unorthodox paths.
It was said that its founder had achieved great enlightenment through the principles of calligraphy and established the sect.
Its members wielded long judge’s pens as weapons.
They publicly claimed the pleasant ideal that they followed their own convictions rather than belonging to either the orthodox or unorthodox path.
In reality, however, they made their living by teaching martial arts to men with respectable backgrounds who had some education but little ability, then using their connections to place those men as martial artists in the Imperial Palace.
Because of their deep ties to the Imperial Palace, both orthodox and unorthodox sects avoided becoming entangled with them.
As a result, despite being a martial-world sect, almost no one dared to provoke them.
But Bang Judeok was a rare specimen who became famous after being expelled from Pilgongmun and joining the Green Forest.
Wasn’t he naturally gifted at ruining perfectly decent people with just three inches of his tongue?
He was the kind of man who enjoyed using his schemes to frame others, drive them into the abyss, and then climb over them to advance himself.
Haegang remembered hearing that the man who had eventually joined the Green Forest was actually from the same hometown as him and had looked down on Haegang several times when they were young.
The memory made Haegang click his tongue.
He had somehow managed to pass the Hyangsi.
But after repeatedly failing the Hoesi, he realized that his own abilities would never open the path to an official career.
So he entered a martial sect and tried to open another path for himself as a martial official.
That failed too.
In the end, despite being the son of a respectable family, he was an incompetent fool who crawled into the Green Forest simply to disgrace his family and find a way to survive.
That was Haegang’s assessment of the man named Bang Judeok that remained in his memories.
By the time nearly all the seats around the food table had been filled, more than a hundred men were packed into the compound.
Then an enormous aura suddenly burst forth from the entrance of the detached compound.
Every man’s gaze turned toward the entrance.
An old man with thick white hair, clearly well past fifty, entered first.
He was small in stature but had a compact, sturdy build.
Behind him walked a handsome young man, casually moving forward with a fan in his hand.
!
The moment Haegang saw the strikingly handsome man behind the old man, a murderous glint flashed in his eyes.
Without realizing it, Haegang clenched both fists tightly.
Baekju Shinsal Bi Sinju quietly offered him some advice.
“I don’t know what happened between you two, but displaying such murderous intent won’t do you any good, Brother. Your opponent is Paeryeokdo Duhwajeon, after all.”
Paeryeokdo Duhwajeon.
There was no way Haegang could forget that name.
He was one of the dogs guarding Gong Cheonwoo—the bastard whose household had made Yeonhwa wither so terribly in Haegang’s previous life.
