Habit (3)
Anyway, it was too accurate to dismiss as mere speculation. He himself didn't even know the full details of the rebellion plot, yet when had this kid become so thorough? The knack for striking at weaknesses was useful.
"Did your grandfather say something?"
"No, sir."
"Then how?"
"A little investigation reveals it all."
No wonder he'd been acting so weighty. They needed to silence things beforehand so his maternal family wouldn't find out.
"Not bad."
"Thank you."
Gu Cheon-woo had faced countless enemies while walking the Path of Dominance Through Destroying Evil. They had dug into his weaknesses, unearthing his past deeds. Secrets hidden for generations, but to his foes, desperation knew no bounds. It stemmed from the despair of being unable to match him through martial might alone.
They exploited the Han Chinese belief that barbarians could never rule the world.
This brat's arrogance pierces the heavens.
Stung by getting one-upped by his own son, Gu Seo-jin felt his pride bruise. Before turning sixty, he had no intention of handing over position or wealth. He'd defend his dignity as family head until the walls were smeared with shit.
If his son dared trample his father's pride, he couldn't let it slide. It was for the supreme dignity of the patriarch.
No matter how you flap around, you're the son I bore, you punk!
How dare he. Looks could be deceiving; the kid was twisted deep down. Never judge a book by its cover.
"Since you beg so earnestly, I'll exceptionally permit the merchant trip."
"Yes, sir."
"Good, take care... Wait, did you just say 'yes'?"
"I did."
"Why?"
"It's the mess I made. And it's a hard decision you've made, Family Head. I've been taught that a child must obey."
"That's true, but..."
It was the kind of thing that'd earn him a beating from his wife. An unexpected turn.
No matter how thoughtless the boy, he should know the hardships of a merchant caravan. He'd naturally refuse, and Gu Seo-jin had planned a compromise. But no—the kid had apparently eaten tiger gall and lost all fear.
No, wait.
Huh? Twisting it once more? Fitting of his son, knowing how to turn the screws. Tigers sire tigers; now it was a battle of wits.
He knew yielding here meant being dragged around by the boy forever. Even father-son bonds had their hierarchy.
"This caravan heads to another province. Even greenwood bandits could make it quite dangerous."
"I see."
Meant to scare him, but bandits were beneath the notice of the Paewang. To the Chief of the 72 Greenwood Branches and King of the Greenwood, the Paewang was the worst predator imaginable.
"You could die!!"
"Do you wish me not to go?"
"...Of course not."
By now, the punk should know to yield! But he couldn't outright forbid it either. He'd boasted loudly to the managers; saving face was key.
The biggest issue was his wife. She seemed the perfect wife to outsiders, but once pissed, she'd torment him endlessly. Only those who'd endured it knew the soul-draining nagging.
And she was strong in a fight too. Her delicate frame hid a martial artist. Not a top expert, but overwhelming for a merchant.
Trying to test his resolve now would just make me look ridiculous.
A family head of Sacheon couldn't eat his words over a child. He'd have to push through.
No big issues... right?
Merchant trips were risky, sure, but who'd form caravans if they always were? Stick to safe routes, bolster escorts—no problems.
But first-time camping and roughing it? Different story.
The kid needs some hardship to straighten up.
Growing up a greenhouse flower wouldn't lead the family. Even with younger sons, the eldest had to prove his worth.
"Ten days left. Prepare thoroughly without hindering the caravan."
"Understood."
Huh, answers well enough. The unexpected outcome left a bitter taste for Gu Seo-jin.
As a merchant, he couldn't afford losses, so he'd fix the boy's rotten grit—and give minimal help. Moderately, though; one slip into his wife's ears meant two weeks of hell.
Ah, right.
Damn, at eighteen, the boy was marriageable. Late by old standards—his own father had wed at fourteen, kids and bliss by then.
Need to mull this over.
He didn't like being played, but a proper clan couldn't take a rootless daughter-in-law. She had to be wise, pedigreed, fitting for Sacheon's Gu family.
"You're busy now, so go."
"Yes, sir."
How long would this punk keep holding the mood? Who'd he get it from? Tsk tsk tsk.
Gu Seo-jin turned a page in his antique book with refined flair. Ever the family head to the end.
'Young master, a real man knows when to bend.'
The easier, the better. That was Ga-bok's creed.
Early hardships rarely left limbs intact. Sly servants lived long and healthy; loyal ones who gave their all often had miserable ends.
Pride? Over a lifetime, it meant little. Most who'd staked their lives on integrity ended in regret.
Ga-bok wasn't worried. The young master wasn't rigid enough to suffer for pride. That flexibility let them lounge, eat, sleep daily.
Honestly, he envied no one but the young master.
Still, this was taking longer than thought. Push-pull had limits; overdo it, and things veered off.
Remember: the heavens' net is vast; none escape.
"Slacker servant, got time on your hands?"
Whoa!!
The sudden voice behind made Ga-bok flail comically.
"Make some noise if you're coming! Thought you were a ghost!"
"Ghosts stroll in broad daylight?"
"Day ghosts scare more than night ones. Anyway, you're unfazed, so the talk went well."
"It did."
Ga-bok had fretted over the delay. But look—young master had the merchant's push-pull knack innate.
One well-raised young master outdid ten others. Roaming brought life's bitters; hunkered in warm corners, a servant's day stayed peaceful.
"Don't underestimate inner duties. Family Head's watching like a hawk—fake diligence at least."
"Inner duties later."
"Ditching those too?! How'd you swing this?"
"Prepare for the caravan."
"...?"
Gu Cheon-woo turned away. Reality exceeded, then derailed expectations; Ga-bok froze like a stone statue.
Must've misheard. Had to be.
This damn young master!! What about his comfy estate life?!
Misheard, definitely!!
"Young master, ears acting up from overwork lately. Repeat as 'inner duties'?"
"Forgetting your place."
Ugh!
Gu Cheon-woo's dry gaze hit; Ga-bok stiffened like a fish on death's door.
Friendly or not, disobeying the master was trouble.
Whoosh! Shiver!
Merely 1st realm Paewang Fist, yet Gu Cheon-woo's spirit force far transcended mortals. Natural pressure dominated the surroundings.
Even peak experts would shred like paper. A mere servant couldn't endure.
Of course, Gu Cheon-woo wouldn't kill a servant lightly. The Path of Dominance destroyed evil, not rampaged.
He reined in his Paewang Qi.
Why'd I freeze?
Ga-bok, chilled by the young master's eyes, couldn't believe it. Hallucinating from stress?
Regaining wits, he raised practical issues. Knowing and doing differed.
"Know what a caravan means? If you're thinking picnic, big problem. Once started, no turning back—even if you beg later!"
"Change your underwear and come."
"Dodging won't... Huh?"
"That shabby? The caravan worries me."
"...No way!!"
Unlike his 'face over all' creed, Ga-bok flushed crimson and bolted to his room.
Not some prank; twice sober in a day? Bizarre.
Not sick, is he?
Saved purity for future wife; go impotent unused? Might need a doctor ASAP.
Should've used it more!!
As if.
He'd shelved the Path, but martial habits lingered. Gu Cheon-woo contemplated his heart-qi-body.
Flesh paled beside his completed Paewang Body. To restore inner-outer force, circulation must resume.
Draw worldly qi via soul, stimulate body through meridians. Cycles and stimuli fortified inner-outer divine foundations.
For smooth accumulation, he etched a One Origin Formation around the bed. North Bright Formation boosted volume effectively, but purity lagged.
Why North Bright Divine Art was deemed demonic despite divine status.
Past rounds, he'd use North Bright. Impurities aside, quantity mattered; he could control side effects at Paewang Realm.
Yet he chose One Origin. Pure, controlled qi stacked meticulously. This round prioritized perfection over speed.
At Paewang Wuji Realm's pinnacle, he'd lost direction. Satisfied? Fine. Aiming higher needed new paths.
Mu-myeong's endless loops. Transcending human limits to immortal ranks.
Yet absent till 100th round. Too simplistic as mere Path denial.
Not yet time.