Entering Yeon Ga
“What the hell’s that guy doing?”
Go Cheolmin pointed toward the dimly lit basketball hoop.
“He says it’s training, but I have no idea.”
It was Skyla.
Go Cheolmin walked toward the hoop. To him, Kim Jun looked like a frog on drugs. He was clearly trying to jump toward the rim, but his legs moved erratically, sending his body twisting oddly in midair or tumbling to the ground.
As his sweat-soaked clothes clung tightly to his body, Go Cheolmin spotted the sandbags strapped to his arms, waist, and ankles.
This guy… it’s because of the Tan formula from Mokhonbo.
“…Master.”
Spotting Go Cheolmin, Kim Jun collapsed, gasping for breath.
“How many kilograms?”
“Thirty-two.”
Go Cheolmin burst out laughing.
“Manageable?”
“Does it look manageable?”
Kim Jun staggered over and barely managed to perch on a rock in the flower bed. He untied the sandbags and set them aside, letting out a long exhale.
Go Cheolmin sat down next to him.
A wave of sweat stench hit him. Glancing over, he saw quite a few wounds. It reminded him of the old days. He’d trained so relentlessly that no matter how much he washed his drenched clothes, the smell never came out.
This guy’s so cool-headed usually, but how does he get so impulsive and brute-force with training?
And then it hit him again—something he should have realized long ago.
My blocked path. This kid made me think of it again? Heh heh, what the hell am I even worrying about right now.
“The path is open.”
A weighty declaration.
Kim Jun stared at Go Cheolmin silently.
“There are risks, though.”
Go Cheolmin quietly relayed his request to Choi Min-su and the conversation with Yeon Ga in a low voice.
“So you need to head to Yeon Ga tomorrow at 9 a.m. You can refuse, of course. You know how dangerous this is, right?”
A long silence followed.
“Thank you.”
Kim Jun said.
“I’ll go to Yeon Ga tomorrow.”
“Thanks my ass. This is what a master does. Get some early rest tonight. And ditch those sandbags. What kind of world do we live in where you’re still using sandbags? Heh heh heh.”
Go Cheolmin ruffled Kim Jun’s hair with his large, thick hand, then stood and headed inside first.
Left alone, Kim Jun bowed his head.
Tears fell silently, drop by drop. He’d always hoped a day like this would come. And now it finally had.
All his fatigue vanished.
Kim Jun glanced at the basketball hoop and began strapping the sandbags back on.
Choi Min-su glanced at the passenger seat.
Kim Jun clutched the cloth-wrapped Cheonroegeom in both arms, staring out the window. His suit felt uncomfortable; he kept squirming and fiddling with his tie.
It had been over twenty minutes since they got in the car.
The kid hadn’t said a word beyond greetings.
“Master filled you in, I assume?”
“Yes.”
Kim Jun turned to look at Choi Min-su before gazing back out the window.
“Must be a ton of questions. Why aren’t you asking?”
Kim Jun stared straight at Choi Min-su.
“I think calming my mind is more important right now.”
“Does watching the scenery settle you?”
“I thought it might, but it’s not helping much.”
Silence fell again.
The Hummer stopped at a light, and Choi Min-su removed his sunglasses.
“This is your last chance to back out. Once we reach Yeon Ga, there’s no turning back. Even if you tell me to turn around now, no one would laugh.”
“Thank you for the opportunity.”
A simple, resolute answer.
“You’re in for some rough times ahead.”
“I know.”
Choi Min-su grinned at the calm response.
He liked people with strong personalities. As long as they had their own color, he didn’t care if they were flippant, stuttered, or had tattoos.
This kid’s a keeper. Not shaken even with me here. Man… if it weren’t for this mess, I’d take him under my wing alone. Muhyun picked a good friend.
“From this moment, you’re my client. Think of me as your patron, or your friend’s dad. Whatever. Use me. For your sake. That’s a client’s right. Got it?”
Kim Jun’s eyes widened.
Is this the same guy? Muhyun, you didn’t lie to me, did you?
“Uh, can I ask one question then?”
“Shoot.”
Choi Min-su started the Hummer again. Yeon Ga was five minutes away.
“How do I fight like you, sir?”
Choi Min-su was caught off guard by the sudden question. Fight like him?
“Fight like me? What’s that mean?”
“Um…”
Kim Jun gathered his thoughts to explain.
“That day, there… I saw you fighting Yeon Ga. I was shocked. It wasn’t just dodging or not dodging. How did you evade people charging from all sides with those foot movements? How can I do that?”
Kim Jun asked earnestly.
Turning the wheel for a left at the intersection, Choi Min-su realized the question cut to the core of combat technique.
This guy really…
Not asking about Yeon Ga, his enemy, even now…
“Heh heh heh…”
Choi Min-su couldn’t hold back his laughter after so long.
“That damn Muhyun!”
“Pardon?”
“Nothing.”
Choi Min-su glanced at Kim Jun. Their eyes met.
How long’s it been since someone caught my sidelong glance?
“From now on, crawl on the ground. Keep crawling. I’ll watch over you.”
Choi Min-su ruffled Kim Jun’s hair with his massive hand and continued.
“Yeon Un-jae. If he kills you, I’ll kill that bastard.”
Choi Min-su slammed on the brakes.
Wooden gates topped with a roof flanked hanok-style walls. Beyond them, tiled-roof buildings rose like mountain peaks, straight out of a historical drama.
Kim Jun swallowed hard at Yeon Ga’s grandeur.
Nothing like the photos he’d seen online.
A thick herbal scent stung his nose, like entering a street of traditional medicine shops. Fitting for Yeon Ga, famed for its incense.
The main gate stood wide open.
Men in gray doboks lined up in two rows at the entrance. Spotting Choi Min-su, their eyes turned fierce.
“Let’s go.”
Choi Min-su strode forward.
“Yes.”
Kim Jun hurried to his side.
Killing intent poured from the Yeon Ga warriors, prickling his skin, but Choi Min-su grinned like he was heading home.
Hostile glares stabbed at Kim Jun too.
“Isn’t that the carrier guy?”
“Why’s Choi Min-su bringing trash like that?”
“He’s definitely insulting our Yeon Ga.”
The murmurs grew louder, but few paid attention to what Kim Jun carried.
What’ll happen if they realize it’s the Cheonroegeom?
Kim Jun imagined tripping on a stone. If the cloth slipped and revealed the sword, how would they react?
They stepped onto the stone stairs and through the wooden gate.
More people lined the path to the inner quarters, glaring at the new arrivals. They wore doboks reminiscent of martial arts uniforms.
“Such a warm welcome—how touching. So smile.”
Choi Min-su whispered.
Kim Jun forced a smile, unnatural but enough to stoke the warriors’ anger.
Passing another gate, the attire changed.
Lotus flowers adorned the chests and cuffs of the gray doboks. One at first, then two, three as they went deeper.
A rank system.
After four gates, one man stepped forward to address Choi Min-su.
“Welcome, Team Leader Choi.”
“Long time, Cheonmu Pavilion Master.”
They shook hands with smiles, but Kim Jun sensed enmity. Their eyes were cold and hostile.
“You’ve brought an unexpected guest.”
Cheonmu Pavilion Master Yeon Sang-gon eyed Kim Jun and his bundle.
“Unexpected? More importantly, won’t we keep the family head waiting if we dawdle here?”
“True enough. Follow me.”
After one more gate, they entered a palace-like building filled with a sweet fragrance.
Cheonmu Pavilion Master led them underground.
At the shoe rack, he stepped back—meaning he wouldn’t enter. Choi Min-su slipped off his casual shoes; Kim Jun quickly placed them in the middle rack and set his sneakers beside them.
After ten meters down a narrow corridor, a plaque caught their eye.
Great pavilion
Choi Min-su smirked.
“Aiming to live a thousand years, huh.”
Kim Jun quickly grasped the meaning.
Daechunjae. Excluding “jae” for room, daechun was the tree from Zhuangzi’s Xiaoyao You chapter—eight thousand years spring, eight thousand autumn. A symbol of longevity. Yeon Un-jae’s fierce will to endure shone through.
“Choguje would suit it better.”
Kim Jun whispered.
“You know Zhuangzi, huh.”
Choi Min-su’s eyes gleamed as he tilted his head toward Kim Jun.
Cicada and dove mocking the peng bird in Xiaoyao You. Comparing the petty, self-centered cicada and dove to Yeon Un-jae.
“Just the Xiaoyao You chapter.”
“The cicada and dove would get mad. Let’s go in.”
A spacious, airy room appeared—like Yoo Min-jeong’s basement training hall, but dimmer. Incense burned in a circle, with a solid wood table at the center.
Yeon Un-jae rose from his cushion.
“Come in.”
“Thanks for the invitation.”
Formal, empty greetings exchanged.
As they sat on thick cushions, Kim Jun hesitated before taking the spot beside Choi Min-su, laying the Cheonroegeom across his thighs.
A lotus flower adorned the wood table’s surface—not painted, but the grain, knots, and rings forming a perfect likeness.
Kim Jun eyed Yeon Un-jae.
Deep forehead wrinkles, a small dark spot under his ear, faded neck skin betrayed his age, but his eyes burned with youthful vigor. For no clear reason, Kim Jun found him grotesque, like an insect under a magnifying glass.
“The Cheonroegeom?”
Yeon Un-jae asked.
Kim Jun placed the cloth-wrapped sword on the table at Choi Min-su’s nod.
In that instant, Yeon Un-jae grabbed Kim Jun’s wrist.
Kim Jun startled but didn’t pull away. Master Go Cheolmin had warned him.
“Familiar internal energy in your body. Hm, faint wood attribute too.”
Yeon Un-jae looked at Kim Jun expectantly, then shifted to Choi Min-su.
“When he acquired the Cheonroegeom in the dungeon, its energy flowed into him. No explanation for why, but perhaps his meridians were already open.”
Choi Min-su replied.
“Open meridians… right?”
Yeon Un-jae sent a trickle of his internal energy through Kim Jun’s wrist and froze in shock. No exaggeration—Choi Min-su’s words rang true. He’d never felt meridians so vast and clear.
Like an empty superhighway. But that doesn’t explain how he deflected my arrow with the Cheonroegeom’s advanced technique, Gokyeop. Guess I’ll learn in time.
Releasing the wrist, Yeon Un-jae unwrapped the cloth, and a gasp escaped him.
“The Cheonroegeom indeed.”
As he gripped the hilt, tiny sparks flew.
Rejecting an outsider. Regretfully, he released it, rewrapped it, and handed it back to Kim Jun.
“Honestly, surprised. Didn’t expect you alone. Thought you’d bring Mun Hyo-rin or Lee Jung-san.”
Yeon Un-jae lit a red incense stick.
“Wanted to, but no need to stir trouble. Plus, they’d complicate things.”
“Fair.”
“I’ll handle the press conference.”
Choi Min-su declared—no need for Yeon Un-jae’s input.
“No point dragging it out. But one condition.”
“Name it.”
“If the Cheonroegeom Lord doesn’t know Yeon Ga’s basic arts, it’s embarrassing. He should learn Yeon Ga Shipil Geom, Yeonhwan Kwon, Yeonhwan Gak, and of course Cheonnoe Heart Technique and Cheonroegeom techniques.”
“Cheonnoe Heart Technique and Cheonroegeom arts? A lifetime wouldn’t suffice. No one in Yeon Ga has mastered both, right?”
Yeon Un-jae, mid-exchange with Choi Min-su, suddenly turned to Kim Jun.
“You saw the estate on the way. As a Yeon Ga member and Cheonroegeom Lord, you’d be treated accordingly. What do you think?”