What Takes Precedence Over Family Law (1)
The air in the room was suffocatingly heavy. It felt like even breathing too loudly would be a mistake.
Yeon Jipyeong glanced anxiously at his father and brother.
Gulp.
The sound of swallowing seemed to shake the air itself. After a full two hours of this tension, Yeon Wi finally spoke.
"Explain."
It was a curt command, stripped of any preamble.
Yeon Hojeong replied calmly. "A servant picked a fight, so we fought back."
"I didn't ask for a summary."
His voice was emotionless, impossible to read. Yeon Hojeong's tone matched it perfectly.
"The Namgung girl started it. She demanded we kneel. She even radiated killing intent, so I figured it wasn't something to let slide. I beat them both down."
"I heard the Yi boy got his face smashed in, and the Namgung girl has broken limbs."
"That's right."
"The Namgung girl in particular hasn't regained her senses yet. Severe internal and external injuries—she'll need at least half a year to recover."
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
"She won't dare touch us again."
Yeon Wi's eyebrow twitched. A subtle shift in expression. Yeon Jipyeong tensed even more, unable to decipher its meaning.
Yeon Wi spoke again. "No matter who started it, two men ganging up on one woman is a serious issue."
"Two?"
"Hm?"
"I did it alone. Jipyeong didn't lift a finger."
Yeon Wi turned to Yeon Jipyeong. "Is this true?"
"...Yes."
He looked extremely nervous, but there was no sign of lying.
Yeon Wi was inwardly taken aback. One against two?
He knew his eldest son's skills well. Talented, yes, but not yet at a first-rate level. He could buy that against the Yi boy from Anhui, but the Namgung patriarch's daughter? Beating her without a scratch seemed implausible unless they'd traded blows evenly.
"You truly handled both alone?"
"Precisely: I took down the Yi bastard first, then taught the Namgung wench a lesson."
"Taught her a lesson..."
Yeon Wi's voice grew heavier. "I don't expect you to be gentlemen. But mind your words and deeds more carefully. A rough heart breeds rough speech, and rough speech dictates your actions."
"Understood."
"Losing your composure over a few words is a loss like no other."
Yeon Hojeong fell silent. This wasn't the place for debate or ideology. He was the Yeon family's eldest son, but also the lord of Heukje-seong, the supreme fiend of the unorthodox paths. He could never fully align with the family's ideals as a warrior.
Above all, he had no desire to clash with his father. That was why he held his tongue.
Looking at his silent eldest, Yeon Wi continued. "Whatever the reason, the Namgung are one of the Seven Great Families, alongside our own—a renowned house of the martial world. For heirs of two such families to draw blood is no small matter. You know that much."
It was a veiled rebuke: avoid conflict at all costs, even if it meant backing down.
Yeon Hojeong tilted his head. "Are the Namgung truly one of the Seven Great Families?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"That girl didn't seem to think her own house qualified."
Yeon Wi's gaze sharpened, though his voice remained steady. "The foolish words of an immature child. Judging an entire house by one mouth is no different from smugly claiming to know all from a single glimpse."
"I have no grudge against the Namgung house."
"Then?"
"What matters is the situation—and who was at fault."
"You're saying to focus on the essence?"
"Yes."
"Essence is always vital. So is discerning right from wrong, and meting out fitting rewards and punishments. But the world isn't so simple. Especially against a stronger foe—you must be cautious."
"I know."
"If you know, you shouldn't have acted that way."
Yeon Hojeong closed his mouth again. He had plenty to say. In his back-alley days, he'd seen the vileness and horror of the unorthodox paths countless times—and the hypocrisy and stifling rigidity of the orthodox ones. But if this was the Yeon way, his father's way, there was nothing more to argue.
Yeon Wi regarded his two sons with impassive eyes. "Whether reward or punishment, I'll decide after seeing how events unfold."
"..."
"Return to your quarters and reflect."
Those ominous words drained the color from Yeon Jipyeong's face. His father had never ordered them to reflect before. His eyes were always those of a judge—clear and decisive as a blade. For such a man to demand reflection... Yeon Jipyeong sensed the situation was graver than he'd thought.
"Father."
"Speak."
"Um, maybe that fight happened because of me. If I'd stopped it beforehand..."
"It happened. People got hurt. And the ones who hurt them were your brother, not you."
"F-Father!"
"Return and reflect."
"Just hear me out a little more...!"
Yeon Wi's eyebrow twitched. Yeon Jipyeong's mouth snapped shut.
At that moment, Yeon Hojeong stood. "Then we'll take our leave. Jipyeong, let's go."
Yeon Jipyeong had no choice but to follow.
On the way back from the patriarch's chamber, Yeon Jipyeong hung his head. "I'm sorry, brother."
"Hm?"
"This happened because of me. If we'd just eaten in our quarters..."
"Jipyeong."
"Yes?"
"I'm hardly one to talk after causing trouble, but there's something I want you to remember."
"What?"
"There are no 'ifs' in this world."
Yeon Jipyeong's eyes wavered. "Every event has causes and effects. But people create those causes. You suggested Go-yang-ru, but I threw the punches."
"..."
"Results are what matter in the end."
"But..."
"Let me ask: if I hadn't acted, would you have?"
After a brief, earnest ponder, Yeon Jipyeong nodded. "Yes, I think so."
Yeon Hojeong saw the sincerity in it. "But reality differed. I smashed those two before you could."
"..."
"If we're blaming 'ifs' and assigning guilt, we'd have to curse even our ancestors for bringing the Yeon name into the world. Is that what you want?"
"N-No! Of course not!"
"I know. That's why 'ifs' are meaningless."
"Still..."
Biting his lip, Yeon Jipyeong clenched his fists and shouted. "If you get punished, I'll share it! I'll tell Father myself!"
Yeon Hojeong chuckled and ruffled his hair. Yeon Jipyeong yelped in horror. "Waaah! M-My hair's messed up!"
"Foolish boy, what parent punishes an innocent child?"
"Sniff. Still..."
"Enough useless thoughts. Back to quarters and get some rest—you've had a shock."
Yeon Jipyeong tugged his sleeve. "You too, brother. Promise?"
"Don't worry about it."
Yeon Jipyeong hesitated, dragging his feet, before finally bowing his head and heading off.
Watching his back, Yeon Hojeong murmured softly. "Maybe it's natural for him to worry. I was the same."
No matter how deep the love, without expression, it's unknown. Regrettably, his father wasn't one to show emotion. He was stricter with kin, emphasizing family rules above all.
It didn't bother Yeon Hojeong, but he wished his father would soften toward Jipyeong. He grumbled under his breath. "Still, what about Bi-ra Jin-gyeol? Should I cultivate it now? Feels like I'll get an earful."
* * *
Well past midnight, a ferocious aura erupted outside the Yeon estate's main gate.
"Patriarch!"
The booming voice pierced the gate, shaking the entire outer compound.
"You bastards! Open this gate! Summon your patriarch now!"
"Who are you?"
"What? You dare ask me who I am? Fine! I'll tell you!"
Boom!
A thunderous impact rattled the south gate. Crack! Thud! One side collapsed entirely. The massive gate—over ten feet high and two feet thick—shattered in a single blow. At its center loomed the deep imprint of a human palm.
"What is the meaning of this?!"
"Silence! I am Namgung Daesan of the Namgung family! Fetch your patriarch at once!"
"Even the Namgung wouldn't stoop to such barbarism!"
"Barbarism? Ha! You talk big! Then what does it make your house, shielding such savage whelps? No better than a band of rogues!"
"What insult is this?!"
Thud thud thud! Dozens of warriors poured through the broken gate— the Iron Wall Hands, guardians of the outer compound. Specialists in escort and patrol, each was first-rate in skill.
"So you're coming at us in force now?!"
"We won't tolerate—"
"Out of my way!"
Thwack! The man shoving past the gate captain was a mountain of a middle-aged warrior. Nearly seven feet tall, he bore a greatsword on his back four times the size of a normal blade.
The Iron Wall Hands' eyes gleamed. The giant swordsman's aura was rare and overwhelming, his innate vigor surging like waves of rage.
He was Namgung Daesan. The very man who'd announced a visit at noon—now smashing in uninvited.
"Patriarch! Show yourself! I am Namgung—"
"I'm already here."
Namgung Daesan turned to the warehouse on the left. A middle-aged man emerged from a side path beside it. Scholarly and stubborn-looking: Yeon Wi.
Namgung Daesan's face twisted. "Patriarch! How could you?!"
"That's what I want to say."
"What?!"
Yeon Wi's gaze turned icy. Namgung Daesan flinched involuntarily.
"We welcome guests, not thugs. Is this how the outer hall master of Anhui's premier Namgung house behaves?"
Calm and chilling. Yeon Wi's tone contrasted sharply with Namgung Daesan's fiery rage.
Namgung Daesan ground his teeth. Even the most hot-tempered in his house couldn't hurl abuse at Yeon Wi.
"No more words! You've heard the full story by now!"
"What story?"
"Playing dumb? Your sons assaulted my patriarch's daughter!"
"You mean the incident where your house's worthless wench mocked ours and tried to kill my sons?"
Namgung Daesan's jaw dropped. "W-What?!"
Like frost on a millennia-old boulder. Yeon Wi spoke in clipped tones. "I was going to look into it properly anyway."