Spring Comes to the Jegal Family
For decades the bare branches had endured the fallen leaves of bitter frost, piled deep as snow. Then, for the Jegal clan, events unfolded that might as well have been called the opening of heaven and earth.
It was no mere sprouting of new buds on withered limbs. In a single breath the foliage had grown lush and full—and that was no exaggeration.
Of course.
All thanks to me.
In the still-early hour, Eunhangon in hand as he stood in the courtyard for dawn training, Jegal Mun-Hyeon’s mouth stretched into a crooked grin.
What if he had never activated the Eight Trigrams Formation that day? What if he had never thrashed that Gu Byeokgeom fellow on his way back and forced him to send compensation and a formal apology? And what if, when the Namgung Family invaded, he had never gone to Blood Shadow Pavilion and talked them over?
See? All thanks to me.
He was not the only one who thought so.
Mun-Hyeon, well done.
Mun-Hyeon, it was all your doing.
Mun-Hyeon, Mun-Hyeon…
Everyone he met these days was so busy praising him they barely had time to breathe.
Modesty?
He had no idea what that was.
Why should he hand the credit to someone else for something he had accomplished because he was simply that good?
Granted, Jegal Mun-ho, Gwan Hwi-pyeong, and Jegal Jung-gi had helped a little—about as much as an ant’s tear.
But in the end it was all him.
All because he had done it well.
“Heh heh heh heh.”
The thought that he had been the central pillar of the family’s rise filled him with a deep, swelling pride that was… that was…
“Damn it. It’s become a habit now. A full-blown habit.”
Jegal Mun-Hyeon scowled and grumbled as the unexpected satisfaction rose unbidden.
Look at him—every inch a proper descendant of the Jegal Family.
He had spent more years in the Demonic Cult than most people spent living their entire lives, and yet…
“Ahem. The important thing is that we can finally breathe easy.”
He cleared his throat, shook off the stray thoughts, and began to swing Eunhangon in slow, deliberate arcs.
He had worried the whole time.
The Jegal Family.
Apart from scholarship, mechanisms, and formations they had possessed nothing worth a damn, withering away on Yungjung Mountain until the sight of them was almost pitiful. He had not been able to stand by and watch.
But things were different now.
Victory over the Namgung Family had restored their standing as a renowned house in a single stroke.
Just as they had once stood as the face of Hubei.
And the way the world regarded them had changed completely.
No longer merely the family of ink-stained robes and clever strategies, they were now a house whose martial strength could hold its own anywhere it was displayed.
Thanks to that war, Blood Shadow Pavilion—having successfully defended its territory—had even changed its name to the thoroughly orthodox-sounding Jade Manor and submitted itself to the Jegal Family.
And that was not all.
When the Jegal clan seized half of northern Hubei in one stroke, Demon Shadow Tower had taken fright and come begging to submit as well.
Well, of course. Set Hukgangmun and the Jegal Family on opposite sides of a scale and even the lord of Demon Shadow Tower could reach only one conclusion after careful thought.
The moment they went to Hukgangmun, Demon Shadow Tower would be stripped of everything and absorbed. They would be reduced to something like Hukgangmun’s Heungsan branch office.
But under the Jegal Family?
They could keep every inch of their territory and continue swaggering about exactly as before—while receiving a guarantee of safety into the bargain.
…Or so Jegal Jung-gi had reasoned. The Beggars’ Sect had diligently spread the rumor and nudged them into action.
“That kid really is something else. If the Orthodox Alliance were still intact he’d have become their youngest strategist with room to spare.”
Thinking of him, Jegal Mun-Hyeon smiled.
In a way, of all the people of the Jegal Family he had met so far, that one might be the most Jegal of them all.
“The way he acts, the sheer lack of manners—he’s the spitting image of that Shinsanja.”
In the old days, the name that sprang to mind the moment anyone said “Jegal Family.”
Chief Strategist of the Orthodox Alliance.
To their enemies he had been far more famous than the Alliance Leader himself.
Perhaps Jegal Jung-gi would become the second Shinsanja.
No wonder his uncle of the Cheon-chaek-won doted on him so fiercely.
Thanks to that, Mun-Hyeon would not even have to concern himself with the postwar settlement with the Namgung Family.
If he stuck his nose in, the negotiations would only get harder.
He did not know their methods.
In the past he had simply announced whatever level of terms he considered reasonable.
Hand it over. Don’t like it? Then try holding out to the bitter end.
That had been the whole of it.
Simple, fast…
and sure to earn him curses and pointing fingers behind his back…
If he did the same now, another uproar would erupt at once.
So the talks were left to the strategists.
He had already glared at Jegal Jung-gi and made his meaning crystal clear.
They were to extract at least ten taels per head.
“Well, that brat will handle it fine on his own.”
If he failed, Mun-Hyeon could always torment him later.
No matter how clever the boy was, he was still the younger one.
“Tch. Can’t concentrate. Can’t concentrate at all.”
As the clutter of thoughts tangled the flow of Eunhangon, Jegal Mun-Hyeon finally stopped training.
Proper practice required a mind as still as a clear mirror’s surface, every scrap of attention fixed on the tip of the blade alone…
“Eh, resting one day won’t kill me.”
That much was fine.
They had all been running themselves ragged without pause.
Had he not already granted Jegal Mun-ho and Gwan Hwi-pyeong several days of rest?
The moment he lowered Eunhangon, Sohye appeared, carrying a tray with a single bowl—apparently woken early by the sound of the staff cutting the air.
“Young Master, please have some.”
“Thanks… Hm? Honey water?”
“Of course.”
“Why bother?”
“Oh, really! ‘Bother,’ he says. Do you have any idea who you are, Young Master?”
“Hm?”
“The rising sun of the Jegal Family! Our hope!”
“…”
“Now drink up. Quickly.”
Even her fists were clenched as she spoke. Jegal Mun-Hyeon could not hide his awkward expression.
The training session had been full of distractions, true, but his body was thoroughly warmed. Why hot honey water of all things?
Plain cold water would have been…
“Mun-Hyeon, drink it at once.”
“Moth…er?”
“Not a single drop left behind. That is Songmokcheong.”
“Pine honey?”
“Yes. Just the other day the lady of Cheonseong Pavilion brought some over, saying she had obtained something rare. I had been wondering what I could give you to strengthen your body while I watched your dawn training every morning, so you can imagine how grateful I was.”
The lady of Cheonseong Pavilion was the wife of its lord—his aunt, in other words.
Had she not been quietly shut out until recently? When had they become close enough to exchange honey? And Songmokcheong, of all things—so prized it bore the alternate name Heavenly Honey and was treated as a true tonic…
“All thanks to you, Young Master.”
“Hm?”
“You’re riding high these days, so of course everyone is curious.”
At Sohye’s words Jegal Mun-Hyeon tilted his head.
“Lately the ladies of the inner quarters talk of nothing but when the young madam will visit. They want to ask how she managed to raise such an outstanding son. And that’s only the beginning. What efforts she made while carrying you, what efforts she made after you were born—the questions never stop.”
“Ah…”
So it was one of those passionate mother circles.
Well, if it was his aunt of Cheonseong Pavilion… she would have use for that sort of information.
“They say she may soon rise to the position of Fairy of the Inner Quarters.”
“What?”
The women’s quarters had ranks of their own.
The Fairy was the woman who stood at their head.
Ordinarily the family matriarch occupied the seat, but the Jegal Family’s situation had been a little different.
The Family Head, widowed early, had never remarried.
That was why he had no children of his own.
And the second uncle and his wife had passed away young as well—which was why Jegal Mun-ho had once been considered for adoption by the Family Head.
The position of Fairy should naturally have belonged to Mother, the third sister-in-law, yet for years she had been left on the outside, dismissed as lowly or whatever else people whispered.
That she was now being spoken of as Fairy and gathering support was almost certainly because his own rise had quietly elevated her standing.
Looks like spring hasn’t come to the Jegal Family alone.
Perhaps that spring had already been pushing up, small and unnoticed, from the very ground beneath their feet.
“Honestly, I always said he raised himself and that I taught him nothing… Goodness.”
Even as she spoke the words, Mother’s face was radiant with pride she could not suppress.
That was enough.
He had not done anything particularly filial of late, but the Myeongsimbogam itself said that the highest form of filial piety was not money or fame, but making one’s parents smile with an easy heart…
But wait a moment.
“Have you been waking up every time I train?”
“I have.”
“Ah…”
“It’s fine. I have to prepare breakfast anyway, and these days I don’t sleep much past dawn.”
Mother waved a hand and laughed, but from a son’s perspective it was hardly fine.
She was not yet of an age to lose her sleep at dawn.
Who would call a woman still radiating such flower-like beauty old?
The wind he raised while training must have been what woke them.
From now on I’ll have to do everything except internal energy practice outside.
He would not disturb Mother’s rest.
With spring upon it, the Jegal Family was busy every single day.
Blood Shadow Pavilion, now Jade Manor.
Demon Shadow Tower, now Yi Manor.
And countless small sects throughout northern Hubei racing one another to declare their submission to the Jegal Family.
Just as the season of budding shoots is quietly tumultuous, so the sudden growth of power and territory had naturally multiplied the work that needed doing.
Even though each group was allowed to keep its own territory and rank, once they stood beneath the Jegal name they could not be left to manage themselves carelessly.
In the end, how many men who had spent their entire lives among the unorthodox factions would change overnight just because someone shoved the lesson “From today you are orthodox” down their throats?
Large and small troubles erupted across the regions, and the Hyeonho Unit was torn apart and dispatched in every direction to settle them—quelling disputes, establishing branch offices…
Immediate measures were also needed for the minor sects that had already declared their submission.
What strength did they possess?
Even if they borrowed the Jegal Family’s aid to grow stronger, a full generation would pass before any real effect appeared.
Especially the sects near Mujugwan that shared a border with Hukgangmun—their situation was dire.
Thus the Jegal clan hastily dispatched Byeongju Hall to make up for their lack of fighting power with mechanisms and strategy.
Father had not returned home in quite some time.
It was a season when everyone moved at a breakneck pace to stabilize the newly acquired territories.
Because he belonged to none of those duties, Mun-Hyeon himself was at leisure.
Aside from driving Jegal Mun-ho and Gwan Hwi-pyeong to still greater strength, he had nothing to do.
And those two, having been beaten enough times, had grown sharp-eyed; they no longer needed his constant attention and managed well enough on their own.
“Hmm. Maybe it’s time I finally started on the work I’ve been putting off.”
The family had built a certain measure of power and was settling into stability. The moment had come to look after his own affairs.
The Ascension Method.
And, though not immediately, he needed to begin tracking the traces of those half-immortals.
Once he grew strong enough, he would have to hold them accountable for transmitting the Annihilation Art and trying to kill him.
Which was why he had come here.
“You want me to find what, exactly?”
“Records from sixty years ago.”
“Sixty years… Excuse me?”
At the Beggars’ Sect headquarters that had finally taken proper shape on the western slope of Yungjung Mountain, Sayo—now firmly established as the Successor—blinked in open bewilderment.
He knew he always came out of nowhere.
He had lived as he pleased, after all.
In his previous life when he sought Wudang in order to ascend, and again now when he sought Sayo in order to find the Ascension Method once more.
Sayo let out a long breath at the sight of Jegal Mun-Hyeon staring at her with such calm confidence, then asked again.
Sixty years.
Two full generations. Time enough for the mountains and rivers to change six times over.
Yet she could not believe he would ask a meaningless question.
“What sort of records from sixty years ago do you need?”
“Back then the orthodox, unorthodox, and demonic forces all joined hands to search for the Ascension Method.”
“The Ascension… Method?”
“That’s right. For the sake of the Heavenly Demon Baek Kang-Hwi, who had gone to Wudang.”
“Mmm… Something about that name makes me want to refuse on principle. And then?”
“The Beggars’ Sect would have managed every scrap of information at the time. They would have kept close contact even with the unorthodox factions and the Demonic Cult.”
“They would have, yes. Sixty years ago the Beggars’ Sect was still whole.”
“Can you find out who reported what, from where, and how?”
“My, my. Your orders are terribly detailed.”
“…”
At her bright smile Jegal Mun-Hyeon sighed.
A little comfort and her cheek had grown by leaps and bounds.
“Not an order. A request.”
“Whatever you like. But honestly… it was so long ago, and the Beggars’ Sect has fallen. I can’t promise anything. Still—why the sudden interest in the Ascension Method? You’re no Taoist. Planning to renounce the world early or something?”
Her confusion was understandable.
To Taoists, ascension meant entering the immortal realm. To everyone else it was simply another word for death.
But if he said, “I intend to ascend,” she would run straight to the Family Head and report it.
The entire clan would throw its full strength into stopping him.
“Just a scholar’s curiosity.”
“Even so…”
“You know. I’m a Jegal.”
“You’re a rather unique Jegal. Lately they’ve started calling you the Violent Dragon, you know.”
Sayo eyed him with a dubious look.
This…
Who was a Violent Dragon?
How much restraint did he practice every day?
He showed mercy, he even spared lives…
At that moment—
“Young Master Mun-Hyeon.”
“Who is it?”
“You are summoned to the Family Head’s Hall.”
“The Family Head? Understood.”
Answering the messenger’s voice from outside, Jegal Mun-Hyeon turned back to Sayo.
“I’m counting on you. Take as long as you need. If you manage to find it… I’ll help you properly master the Chwiri Steps that have almost died out.”
“Pardon?”
“So that the name Qiankun can stand in front of it again, the way it once did.”
“…!”
Sayo’s eyes flew wide.
The Qiankun Chwiri Steps.
An ultimate art of the Beggars’ Sect now believed completely lost.
Yet how could he—?
Knowing the name was one thing, but restoring a martial art whose lineage had already been severed was nearly impossible.
She wanted to ask, but Jegal Mun-Hyeon was already heading for the Family Head’s Hall.
“Haa… He really is impossible to figure out.”
Sayo sighed, yet her heart gave an unexpected leap.
He was the one who had recognized the Chwiri Steps at a glance and taught her that its essence lay in the equal distribution of offense and defense.
Thanks to him she had grown tremendously.
Perhaps…
“I have to find it. The Ascension Method that the entire martial world united to seek sixty years ago.”
And so the Beggars’ Sect gained a new goal.