The Weight of Secrets
Back at Bamboo Forest Manor, Heo Cho-ryeong studied Ouyang Qiangang's face and spoke, her voice thick with worry.
"Qiang, you're really all right, aren't you?"
"Don't worry about me. I'm fine. And… Cho-ryeong, this matter must be reported to Uncle at once."
"I know."
"This may not simply be Hwa Do-reung acting out on his own… there could be something far more complicated hidden behind it."
Baffled by the cryptic remark, she asked, "What is that supposed to mean?"
Ouyang Qiangang answered with a wry smile. "Just… talking to myself. I'll be heading to the annex now."
"All right. Go get some rest."
After seeing Qiangang off to the annex, Heo Cho-ryeong made her way to her father's study.
Heo Il-bi, who had been reading, took one look at his daughter's rigid expression and knew at once that something serious had happened.
"Cho-ryeong. What is it?"
Suppressing her fury, Heo Cho-ryeong began to recount, in as level a voice as she could manage, everything that had befallen her in town. But as she poured out the vile trap the man had schemed and his outrageous conduct, her voice climbed higher with every word.
Heo Il-bi's face hardened into ice.
When her account reached the part where Qiangang had stepped in, she stopped and drew a deep breath. She looked at her father with bewildered eyes, as though she could scarcely believe what she herself had witnessed.
"Father, but Qiang… Qiang was strange. He unleashed a martial art I had never seen before and brought down every one of Hwa Do-reung's men — a dozen or more."
Heo Il-bi's eyes went wide.
"What? Qiang used martial arts? How is such a thing possible?"
"I don't know. His movements were like a phantom's — with a single gesture, the thugs were sheathed in white frost and dropped where they stood. It resembled some branch of the Cold Yin arts, but I couldn't begin to place it."
A puzzled light crept across Heo Il-bi's face.
An art built on cold, yin qi… that sort of thing is exceedingly rare among the orthodox sects. What in the world happened to that boy in the years I haven't seen him…?
When he finally spoke, his murmur was unreadable. "Hwa Seok-dae, Master of the Hwa Clan Manor… so that old fox has finally decided to cross the line."
"What do you mean, Father?"
Heo Il-bi's eyes glinted, cold and sharp. "Your father cannot help but think that Hwa Do-reung's reckless stunt against you was not merely an attempt to sate his lust."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Abducting you was the worst possible method — whether it succeeded or failed, it was certain to drag him into open collision with our manor. Hwa Do-reung may be a degenerate, but he is no fool, and his father, Hwa Seok-dae, is a man more cunning than an old serpent."
Heo Il-bi continued, his face set. "And is it not common knowledge how deeply Hwa Do-reung fears his father? The chance that the boy committed an affair this grave without the Master of the Hwa Clan Manor knowing seems close to nil."
As the implication sank in, the color drained from Heo Cho-ryeong's face.
"No… Father, you can't mean that there is a deeper stratagem laid beneath his attempt to abduct me?"
"That is exactly what I suspect."
"Ah…"
"I suspect this entire affair is an opening gambit — one laid to lure our manor into a head-on clash with Hwa Seok-dae."
Heo Cho-ryeong tilted her head. "Father, I don't understand."
"What is it you don't understand?"
"The Hwa Clan may have amassed wealth to rival ours, but in martial strength there is no comparison. Not a single warrior there could stand against you, and the quality of their disciples and fighters is far beneath our own."
"You're right. And yet he moves all the same — which means he has something, or someone, he believes in."
"Ah…"
"We must find out whether the man has a backer — and if he does, who it is. 'Know your enemy and know yourself, and you need not fear a hundred battles.' Isn't that how the old saying goes?"
Heo Cho-ryeong lowered her head. "My anger blinded me. I didn't think any of it through. I'm sorry, Father."
"It is only natural that you would. You have nothing to apologize for."
Suddenly, Heo Cho-ryeong murmured, her face half-dazed, "Qiang said something strange earlier… Could he have…?"
Heo Il-bi asked, "What are you saying?"
"Before Qiang left for the annex, he said, 'This may not simply be Hwa Do-reung acting out on his own — there could be something far more complicated hidden behind it.'"
Heo Il-bi's eyes widened. "Qiang did?"
"Yes."
After a moment of silent thought, Heo Il-bi looked at his daughter and spoke. "For now, what happened today must not reach a single other soul. Only the three of us — you, me, and Qiang."
"Yes, Father."
Heo Il-bi's tone turned resolute. "There will be a reckoning for this, and this father will see it delivered without fail. But the time is not yet. First, we map out Hwa Seok-dae's true intent and whatever power stands behind him, and then…"
His gaze drifted toward the annex where Ouyang Qiangang was staying. The depth in those eyes made one thing plain: he no longer saw Qiangang as merely a sickly nephew.
The knowledge and wisdom to craft the Yang Dragon Pill, martial arts whose very nature defies guessing, and on top of that, an eye that reads the flow of the board and the intent behind every move… I shall have to look more deeply into that child…
Back in the annex, Ouyang Qiangang felt the tension drain from his body as he sank heavily into a chair.
Hwang Nodae, who had stayed close since they arrived at the annex, studied him with eyes brimming with concern.
Qiangang steadied his breathing for a moment, then asked, as if in passing, "Nodae, you were shadowing me covertly in town the whole time, weren't you?"
"…I was, Young Master."
"Then when I fought Hwa Do-reung and his gang in that alley — why didn't you step in at once?"
Hwang Nodae answered, his expression impassive. "Of course, had you seemed in even the slightest danger, Young Master, this old servant would have intervened without a moment's hesitation. But after witnessing your first strike, I knew there was no need."
"You wanted to confirm for yourself that I had learned martial arts. Isn't that right?"
"It is. I committed an insolence — I dared to watch your martial skill, your potential, through to the very end."
Qiangang regarded Hwang Nodae in silence. In his eyes, tangled thoughts flickered past in place of anger.
He is still a man of many secrets, but his loyalty to me is beyond all doubt. For now, that will have to be enough…
Qiangang spoke. "It's quite all right. I understand your heart, Nodae."
Hwang Nodae bowed deeply in gratitude, then asked the question that had burned in him longest. "Young Master… have you truly cured the Nine Yin Severed Meridians?"
Qiangang shook his head. "No. I am far better than before, but I still have a long road ahead. That said — I have found the way to a complete cure. From here on, it is simply a race against time."
"A complete cure… is it truly possible?"
"Yes. It is."
At that resolute answer, the corners of Hwang Nodae's eyes reddened. "Then all is well. This old servant could wish for nothing more. I will simply wait for that day."
His words made some corner of Qiangang's heart feel steadier. Looking at Hwang Nodae, he felt he finally understood what it meant to have someone trustworthy standing at his side.
"I know you carry a great secret, Nodae. Can you not tell me what it is now?"
Hwang Nodae shook his head with a silent sigh. "Forgive me, Young Master. Not until you have fully cured the Nine Yin Severed Meridians and gained the strength to stand against any powerhouse under heaven. If that day never comes, then this old servant will carry this secret with him to the grave."
"You are as stubborn as they come."
"It was thanks to that stubbornness that this old servant was able to attend your late mother until her final moments."
At that answer, the light in Qiangang's eyes sharpened. "What kind of person was my mother? I lost her so young that almost nothing of her remains in my memory."
Even Akasha had recovered almost nothing about his birth mother, Xue Xiang, from the fragments of his destroyed memories.
A light steeped in deep longing rose in Hwang Nodae's weathered eyes. "She was beautiful… and stronger than anyone else in this world."
He went on, his face lost in reminiscence. "Above all, the look in her eyes when she gazed upon you as a child — nothing in this world was warmer, more tender. This old servant will never forget it for as long as he lives."
When Hwang Nodae fell silent at last, Qiangang asked, "Is that… all?"
"Once your illness is cured, Young Master, this old servant will tell you everything — every one of his secrets, down to the finest detail."
As Hwang Nodae finished and turned to withdraw, Qiangang stopped him. "Nodae, there is something I would ask of you."
"Command me as you will, Young Master."
"Hwa Do-reung will not simply swallow today's humiliation. From this moment on, keep covert watch on the Hwa Clan Manor's movements, and report anything unusual to me."
"My place is at your side, Young Master. I must protect you."
"You saw for yourself earlier. I am more than capable of protecting this one body of mine."
Realizing that Qiangang's mind was made up, Hwang Nodae bowed his head in resigned acceptance. "As you command, Young Master. Anyone who so much as sets foot in or out of the Hwa Clan Manor — I will not let a single rat slip past my eyes."
He bowed deeply and left the room.
Left alone, Qiangang stared out at the darkness beyond the window for a long while.
Lord Heo will be calling for me soon…
He had assumed Cho-ryeong would report everything to her father, and that the summons would follow shortly after. Before long, just as he had predicted, Heo Il-bi's call came. He made his way at once to the study in the main hall.
Inside, Heo Il-bi was waiting for him, his face composed.
"Sit."
The moment Qiangang took his seat, Heo Il-bi spoke first. "I have heard everything about today from Ryeong-ah. I will not press you about what has happened to you all this time, or what manner of martial art you displayed. The weight of the secrets a man carries in his heart is his alone to bear."
Something deepened in Qiangang's eyes. He had expected Heo Il-bi to question him about his martial arts — no martial artist, after all, can resist curiosity about the arts. But Heo Il-bi was different.
He knows how to rein in curiosity with reason. This man's measure is far greater than I gave him credit for.
Heo Il-bi paused briefly, then continued, his gaze deeper still. "The insight with which you saw through the Hwa Clan's design was truly remarkable. But the quagmire of a fight that follows is this uncle's domain. I would rather you not step any further into it."
"Pardon?"
"You are still an invalid who must first mend his body, and the precious son of my sworn brother. I have no wish to see you wade into this filthy fight. Leave this matter to me."
His words carried, all at once, his respect for Qiangang and an iron resolve to keep him from harm. Qiangang had little difficulty reading the depths beneath them.
I am grateful for his wish to protect me… but this matter will not end as Bamboo Forest Manor's problem alone…
Without betraying his thoughts, he bowed his head. "Understood. But if there is ever anything I can do to help, please call on me at any time."
Heo Il-bi broke into a smile and nodded. "I will."
No more words were needed between them.