A Shift in Perspective (3)
“Haha, you’ve come.”
Yeon Hojeong clasped his hands in a crisp salute.
“It’s an honor to meet you, elder. I’m Yeon Hojeong.”
“No need for such formalities.”
Pyeon Il-gang was the same as ever. Though they’d only met once, his generous demeanor and kind eyes left a strong impression. Perhaps that was why—even after quite some time apart, he felt as familiar and comfortable as if they’d met yesterday.
“But who’s this young lady with you? A fiancée, perhaps?”
Yeon Hojeong’s face crumpled like a battered metal bowl.
Why does everyone keep jumping to conclusions? Is this amusing to you all?
“No, she’s a friend.”
“Oh, is that so?”
Muk Bi stepped forward and bowed her head.
“I’m Muk Bi. Pleased to meet you.”
Pyeon Il-gang smiled warmly.
“What a gentle soul. Nice to meet you too. Just call me old man Pyeon, nice and easy.”
“Ah, yes.”
“But…”
Pyeon Il-gang’s eyes sparkled.
“Well now, that’s unusual.”
“Pardon?”
“I’ve met countless martial artists in my time, more than I can count, but it’s been ages since I’ve seen an archer so finely honed.”
Surprise flickered across Muk Bi’s face. She’d come without her bow or quiver. She hadn’t even hinted at her martial background before this. Yet Pyeon Il-gang had spotted her primary weapon at a glance.
This man is incredible.
He was no ordinary elder. His internal energy felt modest, but the eyes of a man who’d spent his life working steel and fire were as sharp as any master’s.
“So, what brings you here?”
Yeon Hojeong handed over the axe hanging from his belt sash.
“It’s gotten into this state.”
“Hm?”
Pyeon Il-gang examined the blade and shaft. Surprise dawned on his face.
“Heavens! This great axe is already this damaged?”
“My apologies.”
“No need to apologize. Weapons wear and break with use—that’s just how it is. But this isn’t merely a heavy hunk of metal. It was forged from fine steel by a master artisan pouring his heart into it.”
Pyeon Il-gang clicked his tongue.
“I may be out of touch with worldly affairs, but I’ve heard your name quite a bit lately. A big clash with the Guzhou Myeong family, wasn’t it?”
Yeon Hojeong smiled.
“Word travels fast.”
“The Guzhou Myeong family—called the world’s greatest martial house before the authorities cracked down. They must’ve had plenty of formidable experts. Even clashing with them shouldn’t have damaged it this much already.”
Pyeon Il-gang nodded.
“Your internal energy must be incredibly volatile.”
The more he looked, the less ordinary it seemed. A skilled artisan was a martial artist’s friend, but even masters of their craft knew little of the warrior’s world. There were things only fighters understood.
Yet Pyeon Il-gang was different. From the marks on the weapon, he’d instantly inferred the user’s energy traits.
This man is a legend.
Vast knowledge, peerless insight, unyielding artisan spirit. A true master who’d honed everything to perfection. Yeon Hojeong now understood why his father called him a divine craftsman.
“An internal energy rough enough to damage an eighty-catty heavy weapon like this…”
Pyeon Il-gang pondered briefly, then nodded.
“Very well. I’ll craft you a splendid new axe.”
In truth, this great axe was an existing piece Pyeon Il-gang had refined. It was already a treasure weapon worthy of praise. But it was still too fragile for Yeon Hojeong’s use. Pyeon Il-gang planned to seize this chance to forge something new.
Yeon Hojeong bowed.
“Thank you. How long will it take?”
Pyeon Il-gang let out a hearty laugh.
“Planning to head back out into the world already?”
“Yes.”
“Fame brings admirers by the thousand—and enemies hungry for glory. You’ll need it before you set out.”
“That would be ideal.”
“In a rush?”
“I thought so at first, but other matters have come up since. Sooner is better, but I won’t rush it.”
“Wise attitude. I’ll make something that suits you perfectly. Figure about two months.”
Two months. Long if it felt long, short if it felt short. But for a craftsman of Pyeon Il-gang’s caliber to invest that much time, it wouldn’t be ordinary.
Yeon Hojeong patted Muk Bi’s shoulder.
“And if you happen to have a composite bow that suits this friend?”
“A composite bow?”
“Yes. The stronger the draw, the better. Her archery packs devastating power.”
Pyeon Il-gang shook his head.
“I have bows, but nothing fit for her, I suspect.”
“I see.”
“I’ll ask around my contacts, though. You should have one by the time the axe is done.”
Muk Bi bowed deeply.
“Thank you, Grandfather.”
“Hahaha.”
Grandfather? Called that by a girl he’d just met—not the divine craftsman title everyone else used. They all held him in awe, but not her. The friendly term inexplicably lifted his spirits.
“Anything else to order?”
Yeon Hojeong’s eyes gleamed.
“A ring at the end of the axe haft, if it won’t mess with the balance.”
“A ring?”
“Yes. As long as it doesn’t throw off the weight…”
“That’s no issue, but what for?”
“To attach an iron chain.”
Pyeon Il-gang’s eyes widened.
“An iron chain? On the end of a heavy axe?”
“Yes.”
“…Haha, I can’t even guess what martial arts you wield.”
“I’m just an unreasonable guy.”
“So you handle chains too?”
“Yes.”
“Chains… chains that can withstand internal energy strong enough to damage an eighty-catty heavy weapon…”
Interest lit Pyeon Il-gang’s face.
“Got it. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll send word when it’s ready. Looks like I’ll be busy starting today.”
The two emerged from Pyeon Il-gang’s forge and walked the street. Yeon Hojeong asked,
“So, how’s our house?”
“Pardon? What about it?”
“Is it livable?”
“Ah, yes. It’s great. Just a bit…”
“Someone bothering you?”
Muk Bi shook her head vigorously, as if her neck might snap.
“Absolutely not. Everyone’s been so kind.”
“Then what’s the issue?”
“It’s just… the servants are doing all my chores.”
Yeon Hojeong couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Servants? What a masterpiece of a term.
“They’re not slaves. They’re paid workers. It’s their job.”
“Still.”
“I handle most things myself too. But while they do their work, you should focus on something for yourself. That’s not a bad idea.”
“Something to focus on…”
Muk Bi’s eyes sparkled.
“Martial arts.”
“For example.”
Yeon Hojeong spoke earnestly.
“I haven’t seen your skills firsthand yet. But I know one thing: your arts are far from complete.”
Muk Bi admitted plainly.
“Very far.”
Yeon Hojeong recalled her from his Black Dark Emperor days—her perfected martial arts. Divine archery that slew everything in sight. Invincible marksmanship paired with bare-handed close combat that matched the Five Divine Generals. A flawless, fantastical warrior without weakness.
His eyes brightened.
“If that’s the case, train with me during my sessions.”
“Is that okay?”
“If we can fill each other’s gaps, it’s all good.”
Muk Bi flinched. Yeon Hojeong eyed her curiously.
“What’s wrong?”
“Um…”
“What’s with that reluctant look?”
Muk Bi stammered,
“I… well, I don’t plan to marry Young Master Yeon and start a family…”
It was absurd. Now even Muk Bi was at it.
“Are you messing with me? Have you lost your mind? When did I ever propose marriage?!”
“If not, then why get mad?”
“Argh, my blood pressure.”
“And I heard…”
“Heard what?!”
Muk Bi mumbled,
“You’re younger than me, I think.”
“So?”
“…Just saying.”
Yeon Hojeong snorted.
“Drop the formalities if you want. Who cares?”
“You glare like you want to kill me when you say that. Who’d dare?”
“When did I glare? My eyes are just like this.”
“You don’t need axe eyes just because you use an axe.”
“Were you always this sharp-tongued?”
“Didn’t have much chance to talk.”
“You had plenty of chances to wash, so bathe more often.”
“Ugh, please!”
Bickering as they entered the household, the pair didn’t look like lovers—but they did seem like friends.
* * *
“Family head.”
“Hm.”
“We need to expand.”
Yeon Wi fixed I Baekhyeon with a cool gaze. I Baekhyeon swallowed involuntarily but soon puffed out his chest confidently.
“The branches in Jiangsu are nearly saturated. At this rate, we won’t handle the influx.”
“Jiangsu is vast. The main house doesn’t need to monopolize trade. Not just us thriving, but everyone. Coexistence is the path to peace.”
“I agree entirely. But look at this document. Disputes are already breaking out everywhere.”
“…”
“Living together is ideal, but it requires coordination and fair shares. You don’t need to oversee it, but the main house handles seventy percent of Jiangsu’s trade, doesn’t it?”
“Hm.”
“They’re a rough bunch. Especially Zhejang—no major sect to mediate. Better to extend our reach there and influence the entire East Sea trade. That’s my view.”
Yeon Wi pondered long, then nodded.
“Your words make sense.”
“Thank you.”
“But we need thorough discussion on the details. Haste makes waste.”
I Baekhyeon nodded solemnly, uncharacteristically serious.
“I think so too. Rushing blindly creates its own problems.”
Yeon Wi nodded.
“Call Hojeong.”
I Baekhyeon smiled. Calling the eldest son for big matters showed trust in his abilities. Father-son faith was heartening.
“Understood.”
Moments later, Yeon Hojeong entered, drenched in sweat from training.
“You called?”
“Sit.”
“Yes.”
Yeon Wi explained the situation.
“…So, a proposal to extend our business to Zhejang. Preparation for coexistence, precisely.”
“Oh ho.”
“Your thoughts?”
Yeon Hojeong’s eyes gleamed.
Zhejang.
Expanding there meant more funds—potentially military funds in a pinch. Though that depended on the future.
“Father.”
“Yes.”
“As you know, the Moyong family has a branch in Zhejang. They rake in fortunes from maritime trade.”
Yeon Wi’s eyes chilled. He hadn’t forgotten their spies. Though his son had allied with their young master to topple the Myeong house, the Moyongs were still foes.
“That’s my concern too. I haven’t forgotten their deeds, but striking now would be unwise.”
“Unwise for now.”
“You have plans?”
A confident smile—and hint of anticipation—crossed Yeon Hojeong’s face.
Moyong Woo.
He stood.
“I’m for it. Follow the steward’s advice.”
“Is that so.”
“But expanding territory demands prior scouting, right?”
Yeon Hojeong said gravely,
“In two months, I’ll go to Zhejang myself.”