Imprisonment 2: A Pitiful Heir
Children are pathetic. I remember the Cheon Family Manor. They were the rightful rulers of Seongdo and three thousand li in all directions. The people of this land used Cheon family iron tools to harvest their grain, relied on the Cheon family's merchant caravans to sell their cloth, and learned their martial arts from the Cheon family's warriors. Like all great families, the Cheon family was the very sky. Everyone born, stirring, laboring, and dying beneath it—they were all subjects of the Cheon Family Manor.
Such was the land of that family, and such was its patriarch. I remember the childhoods of the countless family heads who came seeking me out, their well-developed muscles and sinews marked by traces of martial arts training. But this child—this Cheon Sohyang creature... she's pathetic. Beyond redemption.
"Your lies are as clumsy as you are. Be off with you."
"Just wait a bit! I'll get you out right now!"
The child ignored my words. Instead, she rushed forward, grabbed the iron chains binding my body, and threw her whole slight frame into yanking at them with all her might. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead. Naturally, the chains didn't budge an inch.
"Urgh! Damn it! Why is this thing so heavy?"
"It's forged from millenium cold iron. Far beyond your level."
"Why do you have to talk like that? Anyway, I don't know how you ended up locked in here, but I'll get you free!"
"...Do you even know who I am?"
Dozens of thoughts swirled through my mind. What is this child? What's her angle for coming here? She's a direct descendant of the Cheon family—why is her martial prowess in such a state? Ah, she must be the child of a discarded concubine. A concubine's castoff impersonating the family head? In Seongdo? On Cheon family land? It has to be a trap. They've planted a poison pill in her body to test me. The Cheon dogs have finally used their heads. They know who I am and still dare this—time to show them their place...
"No idea."
"You... don't know me?"
"Me? Know you, ajusshi? Why? Are you famous or something?"
The child was sincere. A mere kid like her couldn't paste on a poker face if she tried. Heat rushed to my face.
"Have you never heard the name Jang Cheon?"
"Jang Cheon... Jang Cheon? Hmm... Nope. But ajusshi, are you famous?"
"No. Enough."
So that's how it is. Tales of the Blood Massacre in Hobuk, my feats as the Great Chief of the Soaring Heavens, my duel with Cheon Yomyeong—they've faded into ancient history. But suddenly, anger surged. If she's claiming to be the head of the Cheon family, shouldn't she know?
"How can you not know me? Didn't your father teach you?"
"Dad died five years ago."
"......"
I was at a loss for words. An awkward cough echoed in the air.
"Didn't you hear about the pact I made with Cheon Yomyeong?"
"You mean Ancestor Cheon Yomyeong? Whoa... Ajusshi, you made a pact with our ancestor?"
"Indeed. As for me, I once crossed swords directly with your ancestor and..."
"Pfft! Haha! What a story! Oh, s-sorry... Mom says I should pity people like you... I'll... respect you."
"......"
I swore silently. The moment these restraints break, I'll kill the brat. I'll torment her until she's sobbing and confessing her sins.
Meanwhile, the child kept grunting and tugging at the chains, oblivious.
"It's futile. Put it down and behave."
"You're so chatty, ajusshi. Why fight it if I'm gonna free you?"
"Do you know what happens if I get out of here?"
"You go home?"
"No. I'll kill you."
The girl paused her tugging. I pressed on.
"First, I'll strike you down in an instant and head to the surface. I'll crush the warrior guards who block me and snap their necks one by one. Then I'll find your mother and cut her down, dig up your father's grave. I'll wipe the Cheon family seed from the face of the earth."
"Uh......"
"If you don't want to see that, drop the chains quietly. I show no mercy to the young."
My words dripped with old hatred. Even a child should grasp it now. She stared at me a moment... then ignored the warning and resumed her tiresome tugging.
"You brat! Are my words wind to you?"
"No. But I don't remember doing anything wrong—can't you just let me live?"
"No."
"What about my mom? Pretty please?"
"Do my words sound like child's play to you? Do you really want to scream all day before dying in agony?"
"Hmm... I'd hate that. But ajusshi, you're wrong about something."
"...You're a real chatterbox. Fine, what is it?"
"We don't have any warrior guards."
"What?"
It couldn't be. I'd seen the decline in her attitude and words—the Cheon Family Manor had fallen. But even so, it was the Cheon family. Even after repeated humiliations, how could they have no warriors at all? No, they couldn't...
"Grandpa's generation had like three. But they all went to the Sama family."
"Sama family? What's that? Who in Seongdo dares poach from the Cheon Family Manor?"
"Ajusshi, you don't know the Sama family? They're one of the Sacheon Three Families! Sacheon Dang family, Un family, Sama family."
At that point, I half-abandoned my thoughts. A family without a single guest warrior, without even a guard squad. There's a limit to decline.
"Mocking me... No. I get it now—leave me be."
My head spun. The restraints were nearing their limit anyway; I could break them alone if given time... but at least a century more. Unsettling. What if the Cheons vanish entirely in that span? What if this so-called head's grandson is hoeing fields? Am I to slaughter peasants? No. That wouldn't be the Cheon Family Manor—just farmers with the Cheon name. Revenge would mean nothing.
"Hah. What madness is this. Cheon Yomyeong..."
"Ancestor... stop... looking... and help... with... this! Argh! Damn! So freaking heavy!"
Did you seal me away forever just to watch your descendants whine like this? For a moment, absurdly, I missed the days of clashing swords with Cheon Yomyeong. An age of chaos built on greed and malice. An era masked as peace but swirling with desire and violence. At least then, I wouldn't have these worries.
"Give up and go home already. Won't your mother worry?"
"If I rescue someone, she'll praise me. The Cheon family doesn't abandon those in need—that's what I learned."
"Hypocrisy's the same as ever. Fine."
I gave up. She'd tire herself out soon enough. Children always do. Sure enough, Cheon Sohyang wasn't different. After hanging on for about an hour, she panted off as the sun began to set. Right on cue. Whimsical piety doesn't last.
But then.
"What now?"
"What do you mean? Mom cheered me on too! And I ate a big lunch today, so this chain—hup...!"
"Hah..."
Cheon Sohyang returned the next day. Her tiny hands gripped the chain tight, pulling until her strength failed, then she'd flop down panting. Her barely formed dantian and laughable horse stance wouldn't cut it.
"Useless."
"Don't jinx me while I'm trying! You're pissing me off!"
One word, and she barked back like a bold pup. Fair point—I shut my mouth.
"Ah! Oh! Right! Silly me. Mom packed this for you, ajusshi."
"What is it?"
"Onigiri. How long have you been locked up here?"
A hefty rice ball wrapped in cloth from her bundle. Far bigger than a child's fist, and worlds away from a family manor's fare. Even this was mixed with chaff and millet. Shabby, heartfelt, made with care.
"...My arts sustain me. I need no food to live."
"No one's like that. You're not some Daoist hermit."
"Master the Immortal Heavenly Spirit Art, and you can."
I spoke true. From the golden alchemy I gained in Geumroe-ok, forbidden wisdom... transcending eternity and hell's torment, I entrusted my life to a single sword. The demon sword Heuk-yo. As long as it doesn't break, I won't die. Stabbed, slashed, throat torn, buried alive, limbs burning—futile. Only the Immortal Heavenly Spirit Art can shatter it. Once, I wondered if I was even human or some yokai.
"Lucky... Saves on food bills..."
First to appraise it so casually.
"Still, eat to build strength. Oh."
"......"
"Ahh... Ah! Eat quick! My arm hurts."
A massive rice ball and the pale arm holding it. Cheon Sohyang was a child. To shove it past my chained lips, she barely reached on tiptoes. No breaking her stubbornness—I squeezed my eyes shut and opened wide. Warm rice pushed into my mouth. My first meal in three hundred years.
"Tasty, right? Mom's rice is killer. How is it?"
"......Where's your mother? Why just you?"
"She's not well—can't come out."
"I see."
I chewed slowly. Grains hit, and my body responded fast. Vital energy surged into my parched gut. Real food has power. My innate essence exploded in growth. What took one daily assault on the restraints before, I could chip away multiple times now. At this rate, daily meals—not a century, but ten years to break free.
"Aha..."
A flash of insight hit.
"Child. Want to learn martial arts from me?"
Teach her arts as an excuse for meals. Break free, finish my revenge. No need to fret over Cheon descendants as farmers. Gain trust, betray and kill— that's their family's specialty. No law against me doing it.
"Me?"
"Yes, you. I can't teach my true arts, but I can guide your Cheon family style."
"Hmm... We can't afford a master anyway..."
She seemed to take my threats as jokes. One day, burning her family home before her eyes—her face would be priceless. A solid plan, even by my lights. Now, how to coax her...
"But ajusshi, you know martial arts?"
"Me... know martial arts?"
"Yeah. I mean, I'm the head of the Cheon Family Manor, right? Even so, I should learn from someone famous..."
"Khuh. Me... Black Arrow Eight Methods Jang Cheon... 'know martial arts'...? Khuhuhu...! Wahahaha!"
"A-ajusshi, why laugh? Are you... losing it..."
"Scram!!!"
Canceled. Something snapped inside me.
"You brat! Start with horse stance over! Your feet are splayed like a dog's—what power do you expect?!"
"A-ajusshi?"
"That stance? Even if Cheon Yomyeong revived, it'd be hopeless! Assume proper horse stance—now!"
A clueless kid ignorant of her own arts—teaching her right would vent my spleen.