Chapter 2: The Little Prince of the Gu Clan (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 2: The Little Prince of the Gu Clan (2)
The Gu Clan was a family of considerable standing, their power base rooted in the Shanxi region.
In the martial world, four great clans were universally recognized:
The Namgung Clan of Anhui.
The Peng Clan of Hebei.
The Tang Clan of Sichuan.
And the Moyong Clan of Liaoning.
While the Gu Clan’s prestige had not yet risen to the level of these four giants, many believed it was only a matter of time. The clan’s influence was growing, and a future where they stood as equals seemed inevitable.
Gu Cheolun, the Tiger Warrior, led the clan. As the current patriarch, he was ranked among the top hundred masters of the Murim Alliance—and known to be one of the stronger experts within that elite group.
But his reputation was built on more than just strength. Gu Cheolun was widely respected for his righteousness, a principle deeply ingrained in the clan’s culture. From the most skilled martial artist to the simplest servant, members of the Gu Clan believed in using their power to protect, never to oppress. They were called the "Guardians of Shanxi" for a reason.
The next generation promised even greater heights. Gu Cheolun’s children were exceptionally gifted.
His first daughter, Gu Huibi, displayed such prodigious talent that she was hailed as a future leader of her generation, earning the moniker "Sword Phoenix."
Not to be outdone, the second daughter, Gu Yeonseo, possessed talent that rivaled her sister’s. Many expected her to follow in Huibi’s footsteps, inheriting her acclaim and further cementing the clan’s legacy.
With two such brilliant daughters, the Gu Clan’s ascent appeared certain. The prevailing belief was that their greatness would flow through the bloodline for generations to come.
Everyone thought so.
I had thought so, too.
That is, until the young lord—the clan’s one and only son—became a demon.
* * *
“Young Master.”
My escort’s voice stirred me from sleep, a quiet signal that morning had arrived.
I sat up and looked around. Sunlight was already filtering through the window.
“I’m awake,” I replied, my voice rough with sleep.
I hadn’t been sleeping well. How could I, when I couldn’t make sense of any of this?
Sigh. I let out a brief sigh and went to wash my face.
…So this really isn’t a dream.
Three days. It had been three days since I died and woke up in my childhood body.
“How did this happen?”
Asking the empty air provided no answers. No matter how much I turned it over in my mind, the reason remained a mystery.
On the first day, a hollow feeling had consumed me. I was convinced this was a dream, a cruel illusion of a past I could never reclaim—a world where my actions meant nothing. I ate and slept in a daze.
Looking back, I should have known something was wrong the moment I could actually taste the food. But, foolishly, I spent the second day the same way.
“What an idiot.”
How could it have taken me three whole days to understand?
I turned to look out the window. Instead of the iron bars of a Murim Alliance dungeon, I saw bright sunlight. After chastising myself for my slowness, a warmth began to spread through my body, a flicker of joy.
Somehow, I had returned to the happiest time of my life, before everything was ruined and broken. I didn’t know how or why, but if this was real—
No, it has to be real.
I prayed it was real. I focused on the solid feel of my own body, using that tangible reality to crush any lingering doubt.
But then…
Now that I have returned, what should I do? What should I think?
I needed to recall every significant event that would unfold in the future. There was too much to consider.
A thousand thoughts swirled in my head until a voice called from outside the door.
“Young Master.”
My concentration shattered.
“The Clan Lord will arrive soon.”
Goosebumps prickled my skin. My mind had been so numb these past three days that I hadn’t even considered this.
“Father is coming…”
My father, who must have been away on clan business, was returning. In this timeline, it had only been a few days. But for me, it was the first time I would see him in many, many years.
And I could feel a headache beginning to bloom.
I felt no excitement or happiness at the prospect. Only fear.
The memory of his cold eyes and the sharp words he had spoken in my previous life were etched into my heart. Recalling his harsh criticisms brought only pain.
How long are you going to live like that? Do you intend to remain a disgrace to your family till the end?
That’s what he had said to me. I didn’t resent him for it. I had deserved every word, thanks to the life I had led. It was understandable.
Yet, understanding why he said them didn’t make the words sting any less. It didn’t change the fact that they would haunt me forever.
And now, after all these years and everything I had endured, I realized one truth remained: I was still afraid of my father.
“Young Master?”
The servant outside called again, prompted by my silence.
“I’ll be out once I’m ready. How much time do I have?”
“He will arrive in approximately thirty minutes.”
“Prepare water for me to wash my face.”
“Yes, sir.”
I detected a note of puzzlement in his voice. He probably hadn’t expected me to actually get ready.
In the past, on mornings like this, I would have thrown a tantrum, raging at being woken up and hurling anything within reach. I’d lost count of how many household items I’d broken. My underlying discomfort at seeing my father had always been the real, unspoken reason for my outbursts.
That discomfort hadn’t vanished, but given this second chance, I couldn’t afford to run away.
After washing my face, I changed into formal attire. The servant assisting me trembled slightly, as if expecting me to fly into a rage at any moment.
Does he think I’m going to start smashing things again?
Well, only a ten-year-old would do something like that…
…Then again, I was that ten-year-old.
Once ready, I stepped outside and was met with numerous stares. Whispers trailed in my wake.
“I’m surprised he’s willing to see his father.”
“He always throws a tantrum about having to wake up early…”
I heard every word. To be honest, calling my past rages “tantrums” was being generous.
My eyes met those of two whispering servants. They flinched and dropped to their knees in shock, but I simply waved a hand, dismissing them.
What would the old me have done?
Hmm…
Best not to think about it.
I probably would have had them severely punished. They’d likely have been expelled from the clan by the next day.
As I walked, I noticed freshly bloomed flowers lining the path. While my mind was tangled in dreary, complicated thoughts, the outside world was celebrating a beautiful spring.
The last season I remembered from the Murim Alliance before my death was either autumn or winter. In truth, I didn’t even know what season it was when I died.
Was I reminiscing because I suddenly had the luxury to notice the seasons, or was I just staring at flowers with a stupid look on my face?
“It’s probably the latter.”
“Huh?” my escort inquired.
“It’s nothing.”
After walking awhile, passing several manors and gardens, I arrived at the clan’s main gate. A large crowd had already gathered. Most were people I had only seen in these past few days.
Like the others I’d passed, their faces registered surprise at my presence. Despite their shock, the crowd remembered their manners, bowing their heads in greeting.
The deference felt awkward after so long, but I didn’t let it show.
As I moved past the bowing crowd, I reached those who did not offer me such courtesy.
One of them approached me.
“…I certainly did not expect you to be here.”
The speaker was a girl with long, tied-back hair. She looked to be about twenty. She would be considered a beauty anywhere, but a warrior’s sharpness was evident in her eyes and her stance.
Very few in the clan were exempt from showing me respect. But if we narrowed it down to girls under twenty, there was only one person.
The Flaming Sword, Gu Yeonseo.
My sister. A blood relative of the clan.
In the future, Gu Yeonseo would become a prominent swordmaster, praised throughout the martial world. But that was far from now.
Seeing her after so long, I said, “It’s mandatory for me to be here.”
Gu Yeonseo scoffed, her tone icy. “And you, knowing that, never bothered to come out all the other times?”
She was right. I had always run away, despite the duty that came with my birth.
“I wonder why I did that, too.”
“…What?”
“I admit I was wrong. I’ll apologize to the Clan Lord later.”
A puzzled expression crossed Gu Yeonseo’s face. After a moment, she spoke again.
“I don’t know what act you’re trying to pull, but if you’re planning to mess with people, stop now. You’ll make me very angry.”
With that, she turned her head away.
Sigh… This isn’t going to be easy.
I wanted to talk to her more, but now was not the time.
“The Clan Lord is arriving!”
At the servant’s call, I looked toward the gate. A carriage was approaching from a distance. The horse pulling it was a massive red beast, at least twice the size of a normal horse, and it charged toward the gate without slowing. It covered the distance with startling speed.
As the red horse came to a halt, a man stepped down from the carriage.
A middle-aged man with a long scar cutting across half his face, draped in the red robes that symbolized the Gu Clan.
His eyes were a sharp, piercing red. Many in the crowd didn’t dare raise their heads to meet his gaze.
…Father.
The Lord of Shanxi. The head of the Gu Clan. My father, Gu Cheolun.
One of the few top experts still alive in the entire Murim Alliance was standing before me.
My father’s gaze swept the area, pausing for a moment when it landed on me. I stared back, not avoiding his eyes. I remembered how terrifying those sharp eyes had seemed to me as a child.
After a moment, his gaze moved on, scanning the rest of the assembled crowd. That was all.
It wasn’t surprising. My father was always like that.
“My Lord. I’m glad you have returned safely.”
“General.”
“Yes, my Lord?”
“Are there any swordsmen on standby?”
“The first team has just returned and is resting. The fourth team is currently on standby.”
“Then tell the chief of the fourth team to report to me before nightfall.”
“Yes, sir. Congratulations on your return, my Lord.”
After this brief exchange, the Clan Lord began walking silently into the estate. The crowd parted before him, then fell in behind. I followed along.
My father’s back still looked just as broad and heavy as I remembered.
My return to the past was a miracle, but it came with countless problems.
Regardless, I’m glad to be where I am now.
If I had returned to a time just a few years later, it would have been too late to change anything. This was indeed a miracle.
But even now, I still had no clear idea how to fix everything.
—Stomp.
My father’s footsteps halted.
“Third child, come to my room after dinner,” he said without turning around.
I was puzzled. ‘Third child’ meant he was calling for me. But why? What reason could he possibly have to summon me, and me alone?
…There are so many potential reasons, I can’t pinpoint just one.
“Yes, Father.”
Despite my swirling thoughts, I managed a timely reply. My father continued walking without another word.
Before dinner, I had decided on the first thing I needed to do. This was my first important task since returning.
“Muyeon,” I called to my escort in a low whisper.
“Yes, Young Master.”
“Take me to a physician before dinner.”
Muyeon’s face immediately showed concern.
“D-Do you not feel well?”
“…No. But if I eat in my current state, I’m bound to get sick. I need to prepare some digestive medicine first.”
“Oh…”