Winds Blowing in Anhui (1)
“Then? If not with stronger power, how else can we stop those sword-wielding thugs you mentioned? Even if we all banded together right now, we couldn't take on a single Beggar Clan beggar.”
It was a perfectly reasonable question. That's exactly how Yeon herself had thought until yesterday.
“I have two ideas in mind. They're still uncertain, so I need to look into them more, but...”
“Two ideas?”
“Yeah.”
First, the fact that she could induce enlightenment in martial artists through Go.
Second, how she had unknowingly dismantled whatever technique Namgung Gijin possessed.
Namgung Gijin believed Yeon had merely disrupted his gang-gi, but the quick-witted Yeon had realized that some inexplicable something of hers had scattered his internal energy.
The reason Yeon had kept her head down and lived politely until now stemmed partly from her innate disposition, but mostly from swift resignation. She'd learned shortly after opening her eyes in this world that a powerless young girl in the gangho martial world could do nothing.
However, a girl capable of those two feats could, depending on how she conducted herself, rise to a position no one could ignore. That's what Yeon thought.
Her recent confrontation with Namgung Gijin—chiding him not to turn the children into sword-wielding thugs—was a reflection of that mindset. It could be said she'd taken her first step toward firmly carving out her own territory in this blade-filled world.
“So what do we do?”
“...Huh?”
“While you're handling things, what should we be doing?”
“No, it's fine. I'll take care of it, so you brothers just—.”
Yeon waved her hand dismissively, but Wangcho spoke gravely.
“Hey, Yeon.”
“Yeah?”
“You're the youngest. You think we wanna look like idiots who dump everything on our little sister and just sit back?”
“But these are things only I can do.”
“Sure, I know you're smart and great at handling people. But even knowing I'm dumber than you, I ain't planning to laze around while you shoulder it all.”
“That's—.”
“So I'm gonna learn martial arts. Namgung-style martial arts.”
Yeon's eyes narrowed slightly at his words. Even after all that talk, he still wanted to learn martial arts and join those violent thugs? Forget the hardships of being weak?
“What have you been hearing me say? If you do that, you'll end up just like those martial artists.”
“I swear I won't. I, Wangcho, vow to use any martial arts I learn only to protect the weak—never for personal greed or the side of evildoers. If I ever break that, I'll end my own life.”
Yeon was dumbfounded by his bold pledge, so casually staking his life on it.
“Why go that far?”
This time, the answer came from Samwol.
“'Cause it's lame to dump everything on our little sister and live easy. Same for me.”
“......”
What were these kids saying? Yeon let out a few incredulous chuckles at their baseless confidence, but it didn't feel bad. And she knew it too: just as no one could force their ideology on her, she couldn't impose hers on them.
“No matter how clever you are or what secret weapons you got to manipulate martial artists, wouldn't it be nice to have someone guarding you? I'll do it.”
These young brothers, resolved not to stand behind their sister as men—what could she say to stop them now? It would be rude. Yeon's head nodded of its own accord.
“Do whatever you want.”
With Wangcho and Samwol's hearts swelling at the thought of learning martial arts, Yeon turned to Chunbong and Seok, who had stayed silent.
“Why haven't you two said anything?”
“Uh... well.”
They exchanged glances, hemming and hawing, until Chunbong grinned sheepishly.
“Honestly, I don't wanna learn martial arts. I just wanna live easy. But saying that in this mood makes me sound like total trash—.”
Smack!
“Ow! Wangcho! Why'd you hit me?!”
“Why? After you say crap like... argh!”
“Ahaha.”
Yeon couldn't hold back her laughter, and soon all the kids were giggling.
That was fine. Not everyone had to chase grand dreams. A few dreaming big allowed most to live ordinary lives.
After Yeon asked him to watch the kids in the front hall and wait a bit, Namgung Gijin, with nothing to do, paced the street out front and muttered to himself.
“That kid's words carry some strange power. I can't refuse her.”
What child would dare order Namgung Gijin—a former Namgung elder and one of the Ten Great Masters of the World—to wait here? Sure, considering the value of the enlightenment she'd brought him, it wasn't unreasonable, but what mattered was the inexplicable pressure he felt.
As he pondered why he was waiting like this, a sudden voice reached his ears.
“Grandpa.”
“Gah!”
Namgung Gijin jolted back from his spot in an instant—a lightness skill that would draw admiration from anyone. Anyone except that it was in reaction to a little girl startling him.
How had he sensed no approach, no sound—?
“Did I scare you? Sorry.”
Could this child really slip right beside him without him knowing? Yeon beamed innocently, and Namgung Gijin forced a smile, hiding his inner turmoil.
“No, this old man was just lost in thought.”
Even he knew it was a lame excuse, but he had nothing better.
Still, it confirmed his suspicions. First at the Damuk Family Estate, now here—twice. The girl could fool the eyes of top-tier martial artists without even trying.
'Innate talent for assassination?'
A chill sweat trickled down his back as he kept his awkward smile and asked Yeon,
“Did things go well with the kids?”
“Yes. Brother Wangcho and Brother Samwol want to learn the sword. Please teach them. The other two brothers just want to live normally, so if you could give them easy jobs inside the family estate, with good pay... that would be great.”
“...I'll see to it.”
It wasn't a request—it was a direct demand, as if it were only natural. Namgung Gijin sensed a subtle shift in Yeon's demeanor: from their first meeting and Go game, to the Damuk estate, and now. Something more...
“...You've grown bolder. It suits you.”
He debated asking if some change of heart had occurred but held back. As if reading his mind, Yeon replied,
“I feel like that's how I have to be to survive here.”
“......”
Namgung Gijin silently gazed at her.
“If you hadn't come, Grandpa, I might've been dragged off to the Baek Family Estate by now, right?”
“Probably.”
“My brothers who tried to stop them would've been killed or badly punished.”
How could he deny it here? Servants threatening a family young master— even if they survived, they'd be half-crippled. Though only Samwol had spoken out, the gang would share the blame.
Namgung Gijin nodded silently.
“...Yes.”
“After going through it once, it woke me up. I'm going to become someone no one can ignore. So I can protect myself, my brothers, and all the powerless commoners like us from those sword-wielding thugs.”
“......”
Even hearing martial artists belittled to their face again, Namgung Gijin felt no anger.
“For that, I'll need your help too, Grandpa. There's something I want to check.”
“What is it? I'll help with everything I have.”
At his calm words, Yeon glanced up at the sky. From the Cheongan Namgung Family estate, it looked clearer than ever today.
“Go. Shall we play another game?”
“Heard the news?”
“Again? It's obvious stuff, but they gotta act all serious.”
“Hey! When did I? Anyway, this one's really big.”
“What is it?”
“The Glorious Sword Lord has returned.”
The listening merchant scowled, as if he'd expected it.
“Pfft, everyone knows that. What now—.”
“Hold on, story ain't over. Right after returning, he smashed the Damuk Family Estate and Baek Family Estate flat!”
Only then did the merchant's eyes widen. While the Namgung had been silent with the Glorious Sword Lord gone, hadn't the Damuk and Baek raised their voices in Anhwi Province?
“For real? No, more importantly, how'd he do it? Spill.”
As the merchant grew antsy, the pudgy storyteller glanced around and cleared his throat dramatically.
“Ahem. My throat's a bit dry... not sure if I can speak properly.”
The usual ploy drew the expected response.
“Waiter! A bottle of bamboo leaf liquor here.”
“Coming right up, sir!”
The pudgy man's face lit up at "bamboo leaf liquor." He popped a snack and launched in like an eyewitness.
“First morning back, he beat the Damuk former head and current head to their knees.”
Namgung Gijin had only struck once each, so it might feel unfair, but rumors were rumors.
The merchant gaped at the head-beating tale.
“Why? What for?”
“Obvious, right? While the Glorious Sword Lord was away, how much did Damuk grow? No wonder he wasn't pleased.”
“Ho, makes sense.”
Namgung Gijin hadn't cared a whit, but the oblivious crowd nodded. The merchant, thinking Damuk had been too loud in ownerless Anhwi, asked,
“And the Baek Family Estate?”
“Worse. He ordered the Damuk former head to tell the Baek head to kneel until he arrived—and if his legs were straight when he got there, he'd chop 'em off.”
“Pfft, haha! Real?”
“Swear it. Heard it clear as day. So what could they do? The Baek head knelt waiting for who-knows-when. Kept him like that a full day before entering.”
“Uhahaha!”
Soon, folks gathered around the pudgy man, laughing, cheering, clapping.
“Then, soon as he entered, same as Damuk—no sword, just bare hands, beat 'em soundly. Word is, the Baek head's legs were numb; couldn't even stand properly.”
The merchant—who'd once been humiliated by Baek warriors—cackled and poured the storyteller a drink.
“Kuhuhu. Feels so good. Have one. Thanks for the great news!”
“Cheers!”
On the third day since Namgung Gijin's return, most inns in Anhwi buzzed with similar tales. First, the buzz of a famed Ten Great Master's comeback. Second, backlash against Damuk and Baek for bullying commoners, extorting "protection" fees.
But after a few months, whispers began spreading a new, unfamiliar name instead: Namgung Yeon.