Winds of Anhui (2)
Not even a few days had passed since the glorious return of the Glorious Sword Lord Namgung Gijin, yet Namgung Shinyeop, the young lord of the Namgung family, had been abruptly summoned. He stared at the child before him with a reluctant expression.
“…You want me to play Go with this child?”
“That’s right. It’ll be a great help to you too.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to spend that time training in martial arts…?”
Namgung Gijin, who had summoned the young lord first to introduce Yeon to the family’s less-than-stellar members, twitched his eyes.
“You? Grown bold enough to talk back to me now, have you?”
“N-no, sir. It’s just… I’m honestly doubtful whether playing Go really helps improve one’s martial prowess.”
Namgung Shinyeop’s skepticism was understandable. He’d heard the tales of Chuhon Singae reaching the divine realm by opening his upper dantian through Go, of course. But try as he might to connect Go to martial arts after learning it himself, he’d found no thread to grasp.
If Namgung Gijin had revealed that his own hwan-gol-tal-tae—shedding his bones and exchanging his tendons—had come from facing Yeon across a Go board, Shinyeop might have dropped to his knees right then, tears of gratitude streaming down his face. But Gijin kept it a strict secret. Word getting out would make Yeon a prime target for kidnapping by the realm’s peak monsters, and the risk would skyrocket.
So Shinyeop, oblivious to the truth, couldn’t help but feel lukewarm about it. And Gijin couldn’t help but find this dim-witted young lord frustrating for passing up such an opportunity.
Yet in such situations, the strong always prevailed. As grandson-like Shinyeop kept trying to weasel out, Gijin’s eyebrow arched sharply.
“So? You’re refusing to heed my words?”
“N-no…! How could I dare.”
“Then play Go with Yeon. And listen well to what she says—it’s as good as hearing it from me. Got it?”
“……”
“Oh, and since she’s your little sister now, of course you’ll look after her properly. Understand?”
“……”
Namgung Shinyeop wanted to shout that sure, he had to obey orders, but how was he supposed to treat this “adorable little sister” he was also commanded to pamper? But the words that escaped his lips were far shorter.
“…Yes, sir.”
“I’ll be off then. Gather your brothers and play Go with Yeon, chat with her, whatever. Make the most of it.”
“Yes, sir.”
Gijin shot Shinyeop one last dissatisfied glance before turning to Yeon with a beaming smile. Watching the shift, Shinyeop briefly wondered if advancing in martial arts sped up one’s facial expressions too.
“Yeon, Grandpa’s heading out. Take good care of your dim-witted big brothers, alright? If any of them give you trouble, tell me right away.”
“With Grandpa here, it’s going to be even harder to get close to them. Hurry up and go.”
Shinyeop’s ears nearly failed him. What gave this child the nerve to speak so brazenly? Especially to Namgung Gijin, who prized etiquette above all.
Fearing the fallout from his foolish new sister’s words, Shinyeop stole a glance—only to doubt his own eyes. He’d never seen the Glorious Sword Lord look so dejected.
Gijin nodded weakly, his face crestfallen. “Right… Sorry about that. This old grandpa’s gone and ruined things again.”
“No need to go that far.”
“……”
Shinyeop’s jaw dropped a little wider. What sorcery had this child worked on the family’s eldest and greatest master to make him retreat like this after a single word?
While Shinyeop stood dazed, Gijin trudged away. Left behind were the awkward pair of newfound siblings.
“Big brother?”
“…Huh? Oh. Yeah.”
“Can I call you big brother? Or should it be Young Lord, sir?”
“Of course it’s big brother. You’ve taken the Namgung name, making you one of us, same generation as me. Young Lord only in official settings.”
No matter how awkward this sudden little sister felt, discrimination was out of the question. Even if Gijin’s whims made no sense, Shinyeop couldn’t question a superior’s decree. That was only natural for the Namgung young lord.
Yeon glanced at him cautiously—or at least, that’s how it seemed to Shinyeop.
“Shall we play Go then? Since Grandpa commanded it…”
“Let’s. First, I’ll call your other brothers. Introductions are in order, and the Elder Lord said you should play with them too.”
Moments later, eleven young warriors sauntered into the hall at Shinyeop’s summons. All belonged to the Cheoncheon Twelve Swords, with Shinyeop as their captain—the fresh blood set to lead Namgung’s next generation.
“Why’d you call us?”
“Huh? Who’s the kid?”
“Isn’t that the girl the returning Elder Lord brought?”
Spotting Yeon, they chattered noisily. Shinyeop scowled.
“Quiet down.”
“……”
One word, softly spoken, silenced the young Namgung warriors. Yeon could sense just how much authority the young lord held among them.
Shinyeop glanced at Yeon and explained. “…So the Elder Lord wants us to play Go with Yeon. Says it’ll greatly aid our martial progress.”
One of the young warriors raised a hand tentatively. “Brother, you know that stuff about Go boosting martial arts is nonsense. Even the family head tried and failed—why drag it up again…?”
Yeon filed away the fact that Namgung Myeong, the current head, had also attempted to link Go to martial arts and come up short.
“Enough. The Elder Lord commanded it, so we obey. Since when do you question elders’ decisions?”
“I’ll follow, sure, but can’t I gripe to you, Captain—or brother—about it?”
“…Useless talk. Get the Go board ready.”
“But while one plays, what do the other eleven do? Offer advice from the sidelines? Haha.”
“Train your martial arts. And greet Yeon properly. Yeon, say hello. These are your big brothers.”
The chuckling warrior waved playfully at Yeon. “I’m the handsomest big brother, Mumu. Namgung Mumu.”
Yeon offered a faint smile and bowed her head. “I’m Yeon. Nice to meet you, big brother.”
“Yeah, yeah. Happy to have such a pretty little sister. Alright, I’ll grab the board—chat among yourselves till then. Be right—”
Yeon cut Namgung Mumu off. “Sorry, but please prepare twelve Go boards.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Playing one at a time would take too long. I’ll play all twelve of you at once. And so you don’t feel it’s a waste of time, I’ll make sure it helps your martial progress.”
“……”
Silence fell like a stone. The chattering Cheoncheon Twelve Swords turned their gazes to Yeon.
Shinyeop spoke slowly, as their representative. The idea of this little kid challenging them all simultaneously was irksome enough—but more galling was her claim of aiding their martial growth. Gijin had said something similar, true, but his words carried weight hers didn’t.
His carried the force of obedience, at minimum. Why? Because in martial arts, no one rivaled Gijin. But this child? She’d never trained a day in her life. For her to speak of boosting martial prowess was like clawing at a warrior’s reverse scale.
Shinyeop had every reason to frown. “Even if you’re our little sister, you can’t toss words like that around lightly. Especially about martial arts—if you speak so casually, we might take it as an insult. Even if you didn’t know before, watch your tongue from now on, Yeon.”
It was speech befitting the young lord of Cheongan Namgung—fair rebuke. The young warriors nodded, shooting Yeon unkind looks.
But Yeon didn’t yield. “How do you know without trying?”
“What?”
“You haven’t even played me yet—how can you say my Go won’t help your martial arts?”
As Yeon pressed on, anger crept into Shinyeop’s face. A sudden little sister lecturing him? He had cause.
“We’ve tried it ourselves. We all busted our heads trying to link Go’s ‘enlightenment’ to martial arts. But we realized there’s no connection. The time spent on Go would’ve been better pure martial training. I’ll humor you briefly, but claiming Go boosts martial prowess? That’s not for you to say.”
To Shinyeop, it was obvious. Ten years back, after Chuhon Singae declared he’d opened his upper dantian via Go and vanished, major sects like the Nine Great Clans and Five Great Families—from mid-tier up—had taught juniors Go and researched it fervently. Lately, with no one else seeing results, the fervor had waned.
“But I wasn’t in that Go of yours, was I?”
“……”
“Even the same martial art—learning from the world’s top master versus a third-rate warrior. How could they be equal?”
Her arrogance pierced the heavens. Shinyeop’s expression darkened. He’d planned to let it slide for Gijin’s favorite, but she’d crossed the line first.
“You’re claiming your Go is the world’s best?”
“Yes.”
“Hah. Arrogance to the skies. Fine. Show us. Get twelve boards. Today, I’ll see if our little sister can back her words.”
“Yes, sir.”
The other young warriors shared the sentiment—all but one glared at Yeon coldly before vanishing in a blur of gyeong-gong.
As the mood chilled, lone Mumu stammered. “Hey, why the fuss? It’s just a game. And who knows? Maybe Yeon really can help.”
“Mumu, shut it.”
“C’mon, brother. Like she said, we haven’t tried her yet. Gotta play to know.”
“What makes her special?”
“Dunno. But would the Elder Lord bother for nothing? He saw something we didn’t.”
“…That’s why we’re playing now! Enough. Go.”
“Tch.”
Mumu trudged off with a wink at Yeon, who smiled faintly back. Shinyeop watched them disapprovingly, then entered the hall and took a seat. Yeon followed.
It was the first step toward winning the hearts of the Cheoncheon Twelve Swords, the future pillars of Namgung.