The Returning Prodigal (1)
“This is driving me insane.”
Yeon Hojeong grumbled from inside the Josa-dang, where he’d been locked away.
“Still as merciless as ever.”
After the ancestral rites ended, his father had come to the study and decided his punishment with a single sentence.
Spend three days in the Josa-dang, reflecting and atoning before our ancestors.
With that, his father had immediately turned to his duties without so much as meeting Yeon Hojeong’s eyes.
That indifference was actually a relief. Memories tended to shrink or inflate over time, but his father was exactly as he remembered. It felt real. It convinced him he’d truly returned to the past.
…Though being locked up for three whole days didn’t sit well.
Leaning his head against the wall, Yeon Hojeong’s face clouded with doubt once more.
How is this even possible?
It was the question that had plagued him most during the half-day since being shut in here.
He didn’t know if there was an afterlife, but one thing was certain: people didn’t return to the past after death. If they did, the world would be in endless chaos.
His regression was anything but ordinary.
I need to find out why. Unexplained phenomena always cause problems later.
The same went for martial arts. Achievements beyond effort always had a reason, and ignoring it could cost your life.
That was why he couldn’t simply rejoice in his return.
After deep thought, he sighed.
“Damn it, this isn’t something I can figure out just by worrying.”
He needed foundational knowledge to even speculate.
After a bit more pondering, Yeon Hojeong gave up.
“No suspicious signs so far, so I’ll settle for that for now.”
His body had returned to its past state, but his tempered soul remained that of the lord of Heukje-seong, the grandmaster of the black path, the Heuk-amje.
His superhuman instincts told him it was fine. Don’t worry; the answer wouldn’t come from brooding.
Letting go lightened his mood.
I get to live the life I already lived once… To cast off past regrets and lingering what-ifs.
His heart raced.
In his youth, he’d made many mistakes. Not true errors, but the desperate flailing of a timid boy failing to adapt.
So many regrets. If only he’d been calmer, more cautious, braver.
His past might have been different.
A bitter smile twisted Yeon Hojeong’s lips—then his eyes flashed.
“Hold on. Thinking about it, this isn’t normal at all.”
It wasn’t just doubt about the regression.
He shot to his feet without realizing it.
“How old am I right now?”
At least twenty-six years before his death. The family was intact and at peace.
So he must be not yet twenty.
Judging by Yeon Jipyeong’s appearance, around fifteen or sixteen. That put him at eighteen or nineteen.
Even with his vast martial prowess, this was too far back. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact time from just his father and brother’s faces. He’d forgotten the past, charging only forward for so long.
Then…?
Autumn by the weather. The family’s destruction was mere months away—half a year at best, a year and a half at worst.
Damn it!
Urgency gripped him. No time for punishments or leisure.
Yeon Hojeong hurriedly opened the Josa-dang door.
Creak!
“Huh?!”
Yeon Hojeong stared in surprise at the boy standing outside.
Snow-white skin. Tall for his age, but his clear eyes and cute features made him look very young.
“Jipyeong?”
“Brother? Where are you going?”
“Uh? Well… that is…”
Now that he thought about it, he had nowhere to go. He’d just reacted instinctively to the pressing time.
Yeon Jipyeong blinked repeatedly.
“You can’t leave the Josa-dang, right? Father gave you three days’ punishment.”
“…Yeah.”
“Aigoo! No way. The Bi-eungdae is patrolling around here. If they catch you, it’s straight to Father—like this.”
Yeon Jipyeong mimed slicing his throat with his hand. It was fairly menacing, but his innocent expression made Yeon Hojeong chuckle.
“Anyway, what are you doing here?”
“Hehe, there’s a shortcut from my place to the woods behind the Josa-dang. I made a dog hole.”
“A dog hole?”
“Yeah.”
“Why…?”
Yeon Jipyeong pulled a thick bundle from his robes and proudly held it out.
“Here!”
“…?”
“…”
“What is it?”
Yeon Jipyeong scratched his head sheepishly.
“Onigiri.”
“Onigiri?”
“Even for punishment, starving you is too much. Three days on water alone? No way.”
“What if Father scolds you for it?”
“Pfft, he won’t over something like this.”
He absolutely would.
But with the onigiri already brought, Yeon Hojeong couldn’t turn him away.
“Come in.”
“Yes!”
Beaming, Yeon Jipyeong entered and quickly unpacked the bundle. Three steaming onigiri appeared.
Yeon Hojeong picked one up. It was nearly the size of his face.
“You must be hungry. Eat up. I’ll bring more tomorrow.”
Staring at the onigiri, Yeon Hojeong turned to his brother.
Yeon Jipyeong grinned nonstop, clearly delighted. But Yeon Hojeong sensed a subtle anxiety beneath that smile.
And he knew its source better than anyone.
“Jipyeong.”
“Yes?”
Yeon Hojeong paused. Where to start?
Facing him like this made past mistakes vivid. Everyone had regrets, but his greatest involved his brother.
No time to delay.
“I’m sorry for everything.”
It was sudden. Yeon Jipyeong blinked in confusion.
“Huh? For what?”
“I’m a pathetic wretch. A petty fool who envied you over worthless pride. I should’ve cheered your growth, but I couldn’t.”
Yeon Hojeong bowed his head.
“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“B-Brother! Why this all of a sudden?”
“I’m not apologizing for forgiveness. Just admitting my wrongs and promising to change. That’s all.”
Before the family’s fall, Yeon Hojeong had despised Yeon Jipyeong.
Not without reason. His brother’s talent was unprecedented in family history.
Yeon Hojeong wasn’t untalented, but incomparable. What took him five years of blood and sweat, Yeon Jipyeong built leisurely in under three.
They’d been close as kids, closer than most brothers.
But at fifteen, when the family debated the next young master position… Yeon Hojeong shut his heart.
Jealousy turned to hatred, then outright ignoring him.
Idiot.
What did that young master title matter? Only after the fall, after kin died, did he realize: family roles meant nothing.
And deeper: his subconscious still loved his father and brother.
A truth realized too late. He never got to apologize.
A regret carried lifelong.
“No long speeches. Just sorry—again. Even if you hate me till death, I won’t resent or complain.”
“Brother.”
Yeon Jipyeong’s eyes reddened.
He’d brought the onigiri courageously, sensing his brother’s different gaze at the rites. Hoping for forgiveness, heart pounding.
It worked. No more hate or loathing.
“Sob…”
Overwhelmed, Yeon Jipyeong bawled.
Yeon Hojeong pitied him inwardly but felt awkward. His brother was kind; this reaction was natural.
But to the black path’s ruler, it was alien. Pity for the weak? Nonsense. Crush, kill, exploit—that was survival.
Weaklings were prey, not objects of sympathy.
This gulf in time and emotion confirmed his return once more.
Soon, Yeon Jipyeong composed himself.
“Sorry. I made a fool of myself in front of you.”
“Fool? I’m the one who’s sorry.”
“No. It’s my fault—why apologize?”
He knew it was sincere. That made Yeon Hojeong even sorrier, more grateful.
Calmer now, Yeon Jipyeong grinned wide. Brotherhood restored—mood lifted.
Yeon Hojeong blurted casually,
“They say crying then laughing sprouts hair on your butt.”
“Huh?”
“…”
“…?”
Yeon Hojeong lacked humor. Some habits shouldn’t return.
Awkwardly coughing, he suddenly hardened his expression.
Yeon Jipyeong tensed at the shift.
“Jipyeong.”
“Yes?”
“How old are you now?”
Age out of nowhere? Baffled, but he answered honestly.
“Fifteen.”
“So I’m eighteen?”
“Uh, yeah?”
Slight relief. Not half a year—over a year and a half left.
Still no room for leisure.
“You, how far with the Bi-yeon Simbeop…?”
Footsteps outside interrupted.
“Second Young Master.”
A formal, stiff voice.
Yeon Jipyeong paled rapidly.
“I know you’re inside. Entering.”
Creeeak.
The door opened. A sturdy man entered: longsword at his left waist, heavy podo on his back. Sharp eyes, radiating strict discipline.
Bi-eungdae Captain Gang Yun.
“Time to come out.”
Gang Yun ignored Yeon Hojeong entirely.
Yeon Hojeong nodded.
“Go.”
“…See you in three days, Brother.”
“Got it.”
Yeon Jipyeong stood. Gang Yun spoke.
“Take all your belongings too.”
“Huh?”
Gang Yun said no more, just stared steadily.
Yeon Jipyeong bit his lip.
“I brought these onigiri with effort. Atonement needs strength, right?”
“I know nothing of that. Only that Yeon family rewards and punishments apply equally, even to blood kin. The patriarch’s direct order must be followed.”
Inflexible tone, no dissent allowed.
Yeon Hojeong wrapped the onigiri and handed them over.
Yeon Jipyeong bowed deeply.
“I-I’ll buy you something tasty in three days.”
“Got it.”
Gang Yun’s eyes flashed. Everyone knew the brothers’ rift. Today felt different.
“Let’s go.”
“Okay.”
Yeon Jipyeong’s steps dragged, reluctant.
As Gang Yun moved to close the door,
“Captain Gang.”
“Something to say?”
“I ordered the onigiri. Note that in your report.”
Gang Yun’s eyes gleamed again.
“Understood.”
Thud.
The door shut.
Yeon Hojeong smiled.
“Who knew such rigid stiffness could feel this exciting.”