Guwon Gong (4)
Phew... It had been endless days of scorn and torment. But now, that was all over.
I. Will stand beneath the heavens once more.
"Hehe..."
Power surged through her body!
Regrettably, she hadn't fully absorbed the century's worth of inner energy, but considering how lavishly she'd spent it forging her dantian, perfectly mending her shattered wrist, and fortifying her meridians, the results were quite satisfying.
Dang Hoiyeong placed her hands on her hips and rose from her seat.
"How much time has passed?"
"A full day, miss. Congratulations."
Her nanny, Dang Yeonseol, replied in a voice thick with emotion.
Beside her, Dang Munhyeon—his eyes gleaming with excitement—pressed eagerly.
"Miss! Have you successfully entered the Doban Samyang Guwon Gong? How much of the elixir's energy did you absorb?!"
Dang Hoiyeong held up three fingers and smirked, lifting one corner of her mouth.
"Me. Guwon Gong. Three-tenths mastery. Half the energy."
"Th-three-tenths?! You absorbed half the energy?!"
Dang Munhyeon's jaw dropped.
The Doban Samyang Guwon Gong was one of the Tang Clan's direct lineage supreme arts.
It was a technique granted only to direct descendants, peak experts from the main family, or clan elders.
In plain terms, it meant only those who had reached the transcendent realm could even begin to grasp it.
No wonder it was hailed as one of the clan's top arts, rivaling divine techniques.
Even Dang Munhyeon—mad for martial arts and lord of the pavilion—had only achieved five-tenths mastery.
Yet this child, just stepping into her first technique, had reached three-tenths? Three-tenths?!
"I knew it would be like this! As expected of one with the founder's talents! The ancestor's reincarnation! Even Bodhidharma would bow in respect!"
"Applaud me."
"Now the world's martial scholars will kneel at your feet once more!"
Dang Munhyeon had abandoned all decorum, hopping in place and clapping wildly.
Before, he'd at least pretended to maintain the dignity of a pavilion lord and clan elder, but now he didn't care a whit.
Dang Hoiyeong nodded in satisfaction at the sight.
"Hehe..."
At Dang Hoiyeong's command to applaud, Dang Yeonseol—who had been clapping warmly while gazing at her charge—shot Dang Munhyeon a cold look and briefly worried about the clan's present state.
She wasn't concerned about the future.
Our miss is a genius, after all.
"Hehe..."
Dang Hoiyeong was simply reveling in the moment.
She'd told Dang Munhyeon her mastery of the Doban Samyang Guwon Gong had reached three-tenths, but that wasn't entirely accurate.
It was true her mastery had hit three-tenths, but precisely speaking, it wasn't the Doban Samyang Guwon Gong.
To be exact, she'd merged the Doban Samyang Guwon Gong with her past life's Guwon Gong, refining something entirely new... Hmm. A revision?
But "revision" felt off—she hadn't really changed much. Nor was it an "invention" since she hadn't created anything from scratch.
As she circulated qi along the Doban Samyang Guwon Gong's pathways, they naturally overlapped with her past life's Guwon Gong routes.
Lost in a trance, she'd unwittingly forged a new technique.
As if the technique itself were guiding her, rather than her wielding it.
Dang Hoiyeong was certain this was the sensation of handling a divine art. Even though she'd never seen or used one before.
Did that mean this new technique had ascended to divine status?
Too soon, she thought.
No one but her could comprehend or replicate this feeling.
Once perfected, however, she could proudly unveil a bold new divine art to the martial world.
Anyway.
Standing at the gateway to divinity—what her past life had never touched—what was Dang Hoiyeong doing?
Lying in bed in her room in the main compound.
That's right.
She'd cultivated the technique, returned to the main compound, and half a month had passed since.
Dang Hoiyeong had spent it glued to her bed, drifting in idle bliss.
Ah, this is the life. This is what living's all about.
The comfort and luxury her past life had never known.
But that peace seemed at an end.
Bang bang bang.
Fierce knocking echoed from outside, but she pulled the covers over her head and played possum.
"Miss! Miss! I know you're in there!"
It was Dang Munhyeon. Dang Hoiyeong yanked the blanket tighter.
Bang bang bang bang!
"Miss! It's been half a month! Half a month! Even a once-in-a-millennium prodigy wastes their talent without upkeep! Please, just open the door!"
His voice bordered on desperate.
Well, he's not wrong...
Bang bang bang bang bang!
"If you keep this up, I'll have no choice but to reveal your secrets at the next elder meeting and to the patriarch! Any dangers that arise, this Dang Munhyeon will handle with round-the-clock protection, so don't worry and...!"
At that, Dang Hoiyeong's eyes snapped open.
Patriarch. Elder meeting.
That old coot...
She clicked her tongue and slowly threw off the covers.
Dragging her heavy body to the door, she paused.
She smoothed her rumpled expression... Made herself look as frail and sickly as possible. Good.
She slid the bolt open.
As the door creaked ajar, Dang Munhyeon's fist hung frozen mid-knock.
Their eyes met.
An awkward silence stretched.
Dang Hoiyeong raised her left hand and spoke first.
"I want to train, but my hand still isn't better."
"I thought it was your right hand that was injured."
"..."
"You stayed up all night entering the heart method last time, and your head hurt so much you got dizzy... Ahh. It hurts."
"I hear you've been circulating qi with your nanny every day."
"..."
"May I come in?"
"...Tch."
Dang Hoiyeong grimaced openly, tongue-clicking, but she didn't block his entry.
Dang Hoiyeong swept her gaze around the room as she stepped inside.
Hmm. Was my room always this trashed?
The bedding was a tangled mess, both pillows flattened, and a half-eaten plate of snacks sat by the window.
Yet Dang Munhyeon said nothing about the state of it.
For some reason, that made her cheeks burn.
Send him packing quick, then call a maid before Nanny sees this.
She perched on the bed's edge, arms crossed.
"Spit it out."
"Shouldn't you be training in martial arts?"
"I am."
"I hear you've been honing nothing but meditative breathing day and night. Circulation is vital, of course, but... shouldn't you learn hidden weapons and poison arts too?"
"Poison arts."
"Yes."
"Hidden weapons."
"Yes."
Dang Hoiyeong couldn't deny it.
She had been doing nothing but comfy seated meditation nonstop.
For hidden weapons, her past life had devised a few and tossed them to subordinates, so several techniques from memory and the third-floor pavilion lingered in her mind.
She could probably manage with past-life recall.
But poison arts—I never touched them before.
She'd skimmed manuals in the pavilion, grasping the theory roughly, but never practiced.
Guess it's about time.
Dang Hoiyeong clicked her tongue inwardly and nodded.
"Fine. Where do I learn?"
Dang Munhyeon's eyes sparkled.
Dang Hoiyeong sighed deeply.
"Not from you, Pavilion Lord."
His eyes went dead-fish dull.
"...Why not?"
"Training with you would draw eyes."
"No need to worry. After the incident, the patriarch ordered me to guide your martial training and serve as your guard for a while. It's ample cover."
The "incident" referred to her arm being broken by Dang Cheol.
Since it happened in the pavilion, the lord bore some responsibility.
That had led to Dang Munhyeon guiding her before; this seemed an extension.
"I get that, but..."
Still, he'd attract attention. Keeping him close meant endless hassle. His flattery was decent, though.
As Dang Hoiyeong trailed off thoughtfully, Dang Munhyeon sensed crisis.
"If you think this old body useless, you're sorely mistaken, miss!"
"Hmm..."
"I may not be the clan's top expert, but as lord of the Cheondok Bigak, I understand Tang martial arts more deeply than any! Who could be more fitting as your teacher?!"
"Hmm..."
"I'm the only one who can discuss the Doban Samyang Guwon Gong with you! You hide your brilliant talent, but even if not—among those who've entered it, who else has my free time?!"
"Free time?"
Dang Munhyeon nodded vigorously.
"Ahem. Compared to other lords, yes. I'm an elder, after all. The pavilion lord post is practically honorary."
"Tch..."
As Dang Hoiyeong tsked in dissatisfaction, Dang Munhyeon paled.
"What's wrong? Something not to your liking...?"
"You said you're free."
"Yes. Which means I can devote even more attention to you..."
"That's the problem."
Dang Munhyeon froze.
"...Pardon?"
"If you're free, you'll hover over me more, right?"
"W-well, yes."
"Then I'll have less time to relax?"
"..."
Dang Munhyeon opened and closed his mouth repeatedly.
The Dang Hoiyeong he'd seen in the pavilion brimmed with more passion and talent for martial arts than any peer.
But after actually entering a technique...
What was this? She seemed like a different person.
He'd chalked it up to brief laziness as recompense for past hardships.
In the end, he squeezed his eyes shut.
"Then... if this old body is less free...?"
"Yeah. Two hours a day for training?"
"Two hours a day?!"
"One hour."
"One hour?! Absolutely not! With your talent..."
"Half an hour."
"..."
Dang Munhyeon shut his mouth. Dang Hoiyeong crossed her arms.
"Two hours a day. The rest is mine—train, play, sleep, whatever. Got it?"
"But two hours..."
"Suck it up!"
Dang Munhyeon yielded to her threat.
"...Two hours it is."
"Smart choice."
"But."
He ventured cautiously.
"If it's only two hours, you must use the rest efficiently. So, an assignment..."
"Suck it up."
"It's truly simple. Really simple. If even this is too much, I truly have no recourse."
Seeing the near-septuagenarian's pitiful face, Dang Hoiyeong relented with a nod.
"Let's hear it."
Dang Munhyeon's face lit up. He drew a slim manual from his robes.
Byeonyeong Sibisik
"The Tang Clan's basic hidden weapon art. Twelve forms, mainly for light projectiles like feather needles. Master it by tomorrow."
Dang Hoiyeong took the manual.
"Tomorrow? Tight deadline."
"You only have two hours for training."
"Got it. Where tomorrow?"
"Yeonmu Hall at noon."
"Yeonmu Hall?"
Yeonmu Hall was where young Tang children without direct family tutelage gathered to learn martial arts—like a dojo.
Lots of people...
Not thrilled. But hidden weapons needed targets and space.
She couldn't fling feather needles in her side-room.
Well, I do need to boost my rep a bit.
Dang Hoiyeong nodded and flipped open the Byeonyeong Sibisik.
"Got it. See you tomorrow."
"I'll take my leave."
Dang Munhyeon rose quietly, thinking:
Says she wants rest and hates the hassle, but her body's honest. She loves martial arts, after all.
And with worry that tomorrow's display might crush the young seeds of the clan.
Well, even if a few get trampled, her slightest progress matters more. Can't be helped.
With such ruthless thoughts.
For better or worse, he was an elder who remembered the old Tang rites.