The New Junior Brother
Once again, a grand banquet was underway at the Daewoong Pavilion, the true heart of the Mount Hua Sect. Gourds brimming with wine dotted the tables, and the spread of lavish dishes was enough to make the disciples—who had just returned from their long, grueling training camp—swallow hard despite themselves.
Yi Taeryang, watching their reactions, let out a derisive snort. To think they’d be drooling over something this ordinary. Having grown up basking in the constant luxury provided by his father, the head of the Finance Hall, he found their behavior utterly baffling.
He was the very model of a petty man—jealous, envious, and small-minded—yet among the third-generation disciples of Mount Hua, he was considered one of the most promising talents. Even those with higher seniority were careful not to treat him lightly.
Still, that training camp really was brutal.
Settling down at the table with the others, Yi Taeryang recalled the past few weeks of hardship. Normally the second-generation disciples took the lead while the third generation followed, but this time the format had been completely different. Instead of handling minor tasks near the sect, many had been sent on long-distance escort missions far from Mount Hua, while others had chosen isolated closed-door training in remote locations.
“Krrgh—! This was my first time on an escort mission, but I’m just glad I made it back to the sect in one piece.”
“Yeah. I heard some guys who went all the way to Shanxi or Henan got beaten half to death before they crawled back.”
Yi Taeryang glanced at the chattering disciples around him. Just as they said, he too had chosen to help with an escort mission from a nearby bureau rather than seclude himself for training. The thought of closed-door cultivation had felt too vague and daunting; dealing with the hassle of working alongside others had seemed preferable.
At that moment, his stomach gave a loud rumble.
Hmm. Guess I’ll have to eat something first.
He was just reaching for his chopsticks when the disciple beside him—who was busy tearing into a chicken leg—turned to the woman sitting with her arms crossed, chopsticks still untouched.
“Senior Sister Yeon, aren’t you going to eat?”
“...I’m not very hungry.”
Seol Ayeon answered casually to the question from her junior, who was still chewing noisily. Yi Taeryang, who had been quietly observing the situation with chopsticks in hand, tilted his head.
She hasn’t had a proper meal in days… has she?
He stole a quick glance in her direction. She was beautiful enough to claim the title of Shaanxi’s greatest beauty—her looks had fully blossomed, now mature enough to stir the desires of any young man. For Yi Taeryang, who had harbored feelings for her since childhood, the sight was enough to ignite a surge of greed.
Heh heh. If I can just become the head disciple… pairing up with her wouldn’t be an impossible dream. No, the odds would actually be quite high.
Considering Seol Ayeon’s position and the influence of her father, Mugyeong Gakju, Yi Taeryang knew he still fell somewhat short. But when he looked at the other promising talents within Mount Hua, he genuinely believed they were all lacking.
The real problem is that bastard, Eun Haseong…
Yi Taeryang thought of the disciple of the Myeongryong Sword who had supposedly left the sect months ago to return to his family. His brow furrowed immediately. He had been trying his best to ignore the bad blood between them.
No, no. Looking back now, all my underlings were below average, and I never even got to fight him properly back then.
He shook his head. It was a form of self-justification. Even so, a faint sense of unease refused to leave him.
“......”
He bit his lower lip. The memory of leading a gang to teach Eun Haseong a lesson—only to be completely suppressed and beaten—was still vivid. Even though Yi Taeryang himself hadn’t exchanged a single blow, he had been frozen in terror by those cold eyes and the merciless retaliation that followed.
No… no! I may not be first-class yet, but I’ve grown strong enough to rival that level…!
Grinding his teeth, Yi Taeryang thought back on the intensive training he had endured since that humiliating defeat. He had cast aside his lazy, indolent nature. Though his lecherous tendencies seemed impossible to overcome, he had at least proven his effort through hard work.
I am now one of Mount Hua’s representative rising stars. No matter how strong that bastard is, he can’t be much more than first-class himself.
Having rationalized it this way, he forced himself to regain his composure. If he didn’t, those dark thoughts would creep back in.
It was then that the doors to the Daewoong Pavilion creaked open.
Two men stepped inside.
“......!”
The moment Yi Taeryang saw their faces, his eyes widened. His shoulders began to tremble uncontrollably. The identities of the two who had entered through the wide-open doors were nothing short of shocking.
At once, every disciple who had been seated and eating rose to their feet.
“Great Senior Brother! You’ve returned…!”
“Ah… yeah. No need for all that stiff formality. Just sit down and keep eating.”
“Understood, Great Senior Brother!”
The second-generation disciples bowed repeatedly with perfect fist salutes. To them, the second-generation disciples—including Yi Taeryang—were both objects of admiration and lofty goals to surpass. In truth, these seniors were closer to real mentors than even the sect leader or elders, and their influence was immense.
“...Tch.”
Yi Taeryang couldn’t stop himself from grinding his teeth. The reason was simple.
Why the hell is that bastard Eun Haseong standing so boldly beside Great Senior Brother…?!
There he was—Eun Haseong, maintaining an air of casual ease in front of the second-generation disciples. He wore the same black martial uniform as Mu Yeong, the mark of a direct disciple under the sect leader.
It can’t be… can it?
Yi Taeryang swallowed hard. He had already heard from his father, the head of the Finance Hall, that Eun Haseong had returned to Mount Hua, so that part wasn’t surprising. But watching him stand so comfortably beside the Thunder Sword Dragon Mu Yeong—the sect’s greatest senior disciple—made rage bubble up inside him.
While Yi Taeryang stared at the pair with suspicious eyes, Mu Yeong suddenly clapped his hands.
“Ah, right.”
He addressed the second-generation disciples who were still standing awkwardly without touching the food.
“As you all probably know by now, the guy next to me is now my junior brother. Keep that in mind.”
“Yes, Great Senior Brother!”
“In terms of seniority, he now outranks all of you second-generation disciples, so I trust you’ll behave accordingly.”
“Of course.”
As the second-generation disciples offered another fist salute, Eun Haseong did the same, the corners of his mouth curving into a faint smile.
“I’ll be in your care from now on.”
The second-generation disciples watched with keen interest until Mu Yeong nodded once, as if to lighten the mood, and spoke again.
“We’ll sit down too, so everyone take your seats. Seong and I aren’t the main characters today—the banquet should continue as it was.”
“Understood, Great Senior Brother.”
With those words, Mu Yeong neatly resolved the awkward tension. The dozens of disciples who had been standing ramrod straight finally returned to their seats.
Hmm. This dish is excellent too.
The texture and flavor of the meat were superb. It was a dish of thinly sliced white meat—boiled pork—paired perfectly with the thin noodles placed throughout the table.
Wrapping the boiled pork in noodles like this… it really is heavenly.
Chewing contentedly while savoring the taste, I soon found myself watching Mu Yeong. He was sitting in the center of the Daewoong Pavilion with the second-generation disciples, engaged in lively conversation.
My senior brother always seemed incredibly busy. Most people looked at him with awe. The second-generation disciples in particular.
Well, even though Senior Brother claims he’s just a wanderer, he’s still one of the top rising stars among the Seven Dragons. It makes sense.
Still, knowing his true nature as I did, the sight felt slightly surreal to me.
That was when it happened.
“...When did you get back?”
“...?”
Seol Ayeon had approached without me noticing and taken the seat directly across from me. I greeted her warmly.
“It’s been a while. Has it been over half a year?”
“Hmph…”
She crossed her arms with clear displeasure, then muttered in a sulky tone.
“It would have been nice if you’d at least sent word once in a while.”
“......”
Her words struck a guilty chord. For some reason, I feel like I’ve been hearing that a lot lately…