Master's Grace (3)
“Argh!”
“Again.”
“Guhh…”
Every time his stance faltered, Namgung Som-in swung her wooden sword without mercy to correct it. Yi Jeon-hwi ground his teeth so hard it felt like they might shatter under the brutal training. Lately, he was truly learning what it meant to endure through sheer grit and malice.
Leisure? Entertainment? Not even a pipe dream. The new teachers Baek Su-gyeong had assigned him were even more ruthless, merciless, and terrifying than Baek himself.
“The foundation of all martial arts is the lower body. Without properly training the legs—the core of your footwork, body techniques, and lightness skills—you can’t put real power into even the straightest thrust. It’s basic common sense.”
“That’s why, Second Teacher! I’m not interested in martial arts…!”
“Doesn’t matter. Learn anyway. You don’t have any other options.”
Namgung Som-in was as cold as an ice sculpture carved from frost. A beauty who suited the phrase northern winds and chilling snow. Yet whenever she looked at Baek Su-gyeong, that ice melted away like sugar dissolving into warm sweetness. The massive gap in her demeanor never failed to make Yi Jeon-hwi question what kind of man his former teacher even was.
Damn it, forget the flirting and all that—if this keeps up, my limbs might snap and I’ll die!
He’d heard from the escorts that he knew the basics of the Yongmun family’s signature Dragon’s Might Swordsmanship. But every time Yi Jeon-hwi clumsily demonstrated it, thunderous scoldings rained down like lightning.
He knew she hailed from the Namgung family—a sword clan rivaling Wudang in renown. But why would someone like her follow a guy like Baek Su-gyeong?
And his third teacher, Gal Ye-ryeong, who taught him martial arts, came from the Myeongwang Society, rated as a neutral faction. She was the leader’s daughter, no less.
“This is so unfair…”
“Focus instead of whining. If your stance slips again, I’ll extend your horse stance to two shichen.”
“S-Second Teacher! I’ll die! I really will!”
Namgung Som-in smiled faintly and tapped her palm lightly with the wooden sword at Yi Jeon-hwi’s panicked cry.
“People don’t die that easily. They’re tougher than you think. I’m just pushing you to the edge without quite killing you, so don’t worry.”
“H-heek…”
“Teacher wouldn’t want that either.”
Her eyes curved like crescent moons bathed in cold moonlight. Yi Jeon-hwi shuddered in terror.
Mom…
Snowflakes began drifting down onto Yi Jeon-hwi’s head as he instinctively longed for his mother.
“Elder Baek, isn’t this a bit much?”
“What do you mean, Lady Wi?”
Wi Seo-yeon, the matriarch of the Yongmun family, stared in disbelief at Baek Su-gyeong’s utterly innocent counter-question.
“You’ve seen Jeon-hwi staggering back to his room every day looking like pulverized kimchi.”
“Do you want Young Master A-hwi to keep freeloading off the family rice bowl forever, Lady Wi?”
Sharp as a blade. Wi Seo-yeon frowned at Baek Su-gyeong’s cutting remark.
“Elder Baek! That’s too harsh!”
“You entrusted him to me yourself. Compared to the eldest young master or third young lady, his martial prowess doesn’t even reach half of half theirs. Even a blind fool like me can see that clearly.”
“Well…”
“Of course, it’d be stranger if a parent didn’t worry about their child.”
Baek Su-gyeong set down his teacup. It had been ages since he’d last seen the matriarch. He’d expected her visit, given their past clash over educational policies.
Looking at Wi Seo-yeon, Baek Su-gyeong said, “I can only tell you the same as before, Lady Wi. If you keep coddling him as your precious child, Young Master A-hwi will stay stuck in that spot forever.”
“There are other ways besides this…”
“I heard all the teachers you hired after I left couldn’t endure him and quit.”
“Th-that’s…”
Wi Seo-yeon had no retort. Aside from Baek Su-gyeong, no one had ever withstood Yi Jeon-hwi’s temperament.
“Even if he tries to learn martial arts, his talent lags so far behind the eldest and third young lady that mastering family techniques is a struggle. And his business acumen? He’s chewed through the trading company’s funds without ever growing profits—harsh reviews all around, straight from the escorts and managers.”
“No way…”
“Young Master A-hwi’s standing in the Yongmun family is extremely precarious. He’s barely clinging to a thread that could snap any moment. A single mistake, and it’s over. Do you know what holds that thread together?”
Baek Su-gyeong met Wi Seo-yeon’s eyes.
“‘Blood ties’—the one thing that can’t be severed by anything else. If he weren’t the second young master of Yongmun, he’d already be a kite cut loose.”
“Elder Baek…”
“He has no drive to achieve anything, no ambition, no resolve. He just drains the family’s rice. What’s wrong with calling that a rice bug?”
His criticism was venomously precise. At this point, Wi Seo-yeon found herself speechless. Every word rang true. Even a mother’s love couldn’t refute this barrage of facts.
Baek Su-gyeong continued, “You once told me love and nurturing would eventually wake him up, Lady Wi… but you were wrong. There’s a saying back home.”
He sipped his tea before speaking coldly.
“‘People aren’t for fixing.’ Still, I took him back not just because of the great favors you’ve shown me, but because I want to see Young Master A-hwi become someone useful.”
“Elder Baek…”
“Lady Wi, if you truly care for him, don’t try to spare him this pain.”
“Then what should I…”
Baek Su-gyeong stated firmly, “Look at him coldly. Set aside the affection of blood for a moment. Face who he really is. It’ll be hard, but you must.”
“How…”
“If you can’t, then promise not to interfere with my training at all.”
Baek Su-gyeong fixed her with an icy gaze.
“Will you make that promise with me?”
“I’m dying, gonna die…”
Yi Jeon-hwi barely washed up before collapsing face-first onto his bed. He rolled over with effort and stared at the ceiling, groans spilling endlessly from his lips.
Baek Su-gyeong and the three women were drilling him mercilessly. No outings possible, no skipping training. Skipping meant even harsher sessions the next day.
He was learning swordsmanship, internal arts, and business from the trio, but Yi Jeon-hwi’s mindset hadn’t budged.
“Why do I have to do this crap…”
From childhood, he’d been sandwiched between his older brother and younger sister. His supremely talented brother, coveted even by Huashan, had left for the sect as soon as he came of age. His sister? She treated Yi Jeon-hwi like dirt, her sword genius earning her a spot at Geomgak right after.
He hadn’t seen her face in years, probably.
Sandwiched above by his brother, below by his sister. Naturally, his interest in martial arts withered, and even the will to learn anything vanished.
“Damn it…”
Someone like Yi Jeon-hwi—there or not, it made no difference. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t surpass his sister. His brother? He’d never once beaten him at martial arts, not even as kids.
That’s why he’d quit trying. Constant comparisons wore him down, no victories in sight.
His parents, Yi Jeon-hyo and Wi Seo-yeon, never compared him to his siblings, but what did that matter? Everyone else weighed him like meat on scales.
“Damn it all!”
He didn’t want to. The outcome was fixed anyway—why bother striving?
“Goddamn it. If I hadn’t messed with Elder Baek…”
Who’d have thought, out of everyone, that guy would be there? Yi Jeon-hwi buried his face in the pillow.
“Haa…”
His sigh ran deep. Lamenting changed nothing—he knew that better than anyone. But the reality of never beating his brother or sister, no matter the effort, wouldn’t budge.
So no motivation, no thoughts of trying. He knew he burdened the family, but what talent did he have left? Not in martial arts, outshone by siblings. Not in business, already trashed by the trading firm.
What path was left for Yi Jeon-hwi?
“Damn it all.”
A knock echoed as he rolled over to glare at the ceiling.
“Who at this hour…”
“It’s me. Young Master A-hwi.”
“Elder Baek?!”
At the familiar voice, Yi Jeon-hwi bolted upright in shock. Baek Su-gyeong visiting at this hour? Fear outweighed any joy.
Baek’s voice came again to the frozen Yi Jeon-hwi.
“If you can move, come out. We need to talk.”
“Wh-what? I don’t have anything to say to Elder Baek…”
“Chwiwol Pavilion.”
Baek Su-gyeong left those words and vanished from Yi Jeon-hwi’s door.
Bewildered, Yi Jeon-hwi pinched his cheek.
“Not a dream.”
Why Chwiwol Pavilion? No clue. Maybe booze? The thought made his mouth water—he hadn’t drunk in days.
“Tch, fine, one time, even if it’s a trick…”
Baek wouldn’t scam him, surely. Steel resolve, Yi Jeon-hwi dressed and stepped out.
A winter chill brushed his collar as he left the room.