Confidence, Part Two
I looked back on the Sichuan crisis from Hyeok Gi-rin's point of view. The Sichuan crisis had been… well, a full-scale assault, really. I'd been so furious that I threw reputation management and every other consideration out the window and just charged straight in.
People across all of Sichuan had rolled up their sleeves and thrown themselves into the effort. The citizens of Sichuan poured everything they had into preparing the festival, while every martial artist in the province had rushed out to hunt bandits.
And then the people of Sichuan celebrated with joy, and the martial artists of Sichuan squared their shoulders and boasted of their achievements. Everyone had a role to play. Everyone displayed their skill, rejoiced, and enjoyed themselves.
And Hyeok Gi-rin's role in all of that… honestly, it had been minor. Compared to everything she had endured, her chance to shine had been vanishingly small. She had swallowed humiliation at the Golden Family, gone around begging favors from merchants…
She had endured so much, yet never once gotten a clean opportunity to truly distinguish herself. Those things, it seemed, had been quietly eating away at her.
"It was the first great affair I faced after leaving the gates of the Jeomchang Sect," she murmured, her expression heavy. "And I was powerless. When I encounter such events again… will I truly be able to manage them well?"
"My brother told me to return home. He declared, without hesitation, that it was the path that would make me happiest. I wanted to argue. But the words would not come. I who fled the sect gates claiming I would help Junior Sister Yeo Il-ye, and then accomplished nothing — can I truly do well from here on?"
"Hero Hyeok Gi-rin is doing splendidly."
She was. How many people in the Murim were managing as well as Hyeok Gi-rin? I meant every word, but she only offered a bitter smile.
"I am grateful for such an assessment. I take pride in having worked hard myself. And yet… the reality is that I have nothing to show my brother. That this Hyeok Gi-rin is doing so well. I still cannot decide which path to take, but I wanted to tell him — look how well I am doing, so please support me — and yet…"
So that was it.
Hyeok Gi-rin had no results. Call it the fruit of her martial arts, if you like. Why had the martial artists of Sichuan been able to puff out their chests and rejoice even after burying five hundred bandits through sheer numbers? Because for the first time, in a place with a just cause, in a place where martial arts were meant to be used, they had proven their skill.
Proof.
Hyeok Gi-rin had wanted to show her brother Yu Gyeong the fruits of the life she had built — but she had no proof.
In truth, martial artists were a people who needed no such proof. They had realm as their credential. Realm itself was the mark of effort.
But the part Hyeok Gi-rin was wrestling with was something different.
Was it the desire to be recognized not as 'Yu Ya,' but as 'Hyeok Gi-rin'?
Not as a Super-Peak expert of the Jeomchang Sect, but as proof of the life lived by the martial artist Hyeok Gi-rin — something she wanted to show her brother?
"I see…"
Hyeok Gi-rin and I both sank into thought, and so that day's tea time came to an end.
The morning of my seventh day in the Imperial Palace dawned.
"Hoo."
As I loosened my body with simple calisthenics, I found myself thinking of my days as a Sichuan nangin. More precisely, of those days when I had been stuck against the wall at the very edge of Second-rate, doing nothing but maintaining the status quo.
I had been giving my all to daily qi circulation within the limits of what my mental strength allowed, so the Spiral Formula had made considerable progress.
My life as a Sichuan nangin had lasted more than seven years, and it had been only a few months since I broke through the Second-rate realm and my life was transformed. That life as a wandering warrior had changed many parts of me.
The habit of calisthenics was one of them.
Exercises to maintain my stats were, in truth, no longer necessary. I was already doing separate daily training for stat growth. Coldly speaking, you could call it a superfluous habit.
And it had left me with a mental habit as well.
The habit of managing reputation points… or perhaps it was more accurate to say I had been under pressure. Even I, a ten-year veteran of Murim Cheonha, had never been able to get a precise feel for how much reputation a Second-rate warrior could handle.
You could call it a habit of preserving anonymity.
Fame begets fame. Compound interest, maybe.
Because I got involved with Yeo Il-ye, Hyeok Gi-rin sought me out. Because I got involved with Hyeok Gi-rin, Sama Yeom took notice of me. Because I flipped Sichuan upside down with Sama Yeom, word reached Emperor Yu Gyeong's ears, and I entered the Imperial Palace alongside Hyeok Gi-rin.
Strictly speaking, even my presence in the Imperial Palace was the result of reputation points snowballing.
A bitter smile rose unbidden.
I had told Hyeok Gi-rin to have confidence, yet I myself was hesitating and fretting just the same. Reputation points are snowballing? Then just get stronger faster than they roll.
Ho Cheon-an, you bastard — you've rested long enough. You ought to be thinking about running hard and raising your realm, not scheming about how to take it easy.
Steeling myself, I opened the window.
I looked toward a secluded pavilion tucked oddly into a corner, as if to avoid being discovered by Hyeok Gi-rin. That was where I usually drank tea when meeting Yu Gyeong.
Looking the other way, I could see the building that housed Hyeok Gi-rin's quarters. With her, I mostly met in her rooms for conversation.
"Of all places, the Imperial Palace."
It was all because of the Imperial Palace.
Not Princess Yu Ya, but the martial artist Hyeok Gi-rin. Those who could testify to the trajectory of that life… outside these walls, they would be overflowing.
Hyeok Gi-rin had that kind of power.
It was not power that came from being a Super-Peak expert of the Jeomchang Sect. It was the charm unique to Hyeok Gi-rin — the kind that could soften even Yeo Il-ye's heart, and win the goodwill of a loner like Heukmyo who barely knew how to deal with people.
It was also why, on the day she returned from delivering a warning to the bandit alliance, I had staged a magic performance at the inn for the sake of a Hyeok Gi-rin who sat with her head bowed.
Hyeok Gi-rin said she had accomplished nothing.
But she had held on to Yeo Il-ye. She had become a friend to Heukmyo. She had given affection to the disciples of the Jeomchang Sect, and she had burned with indignation for people suffering under bandits.
Hyeok Gi-rin was more than remarkable enough.
She might lack deeds or evidence to prove her life — but witnesses would be more than plentiful. They simply could not come and go from the Imperial Palace.
So… I would prove it in their place.
"Could you deliver a message to Lord Du-jak?"
The palace maid looked thoroughly flustered. From the perspective of a maid who knew who Du-jak really was, a mere guest of the palace summoning the Emperor was something she had no idea how to handle.
"And please do not inform Hero Hyeok Gi-rin."
Sensing something in my easy smile, the maid quietly bowed and withdrew. A short while later a middle-aged palace matron appeared and asked for the message.
"Could you send word to Eunuch Du-jak that I wish to share a conversation at the training grounds of Gungcheong Hall?"
"Before that, I would ask that you submit a request to use the training grounds…"
The matron, who had been watching me with a stern gaze, nodded.
"I shall convey the message to Lord Du-jak. Permission to use the training grounds will also be granted."
"Thank you. And could you also send word to Hero Hyeok Gi-rin that I would like to see her at the training grounds?"
"…Very well."
The middle-aged matron studied me for a long moment before conveying her assent.
I went to the training grounds first. There were blunted practice swords there. Holding a weapon for the first time in nearly a week, the sensation felt strangely unfamiliar. Once I left the Imperial Palace, I would need to practice swordsmanship in earnest.
I was gripping the sword and moving it little by little when Hyeok Gi-rin appeared, wearing a bewildered expression.
"Wanderer Ho, what is this all of a sudden?"
"I simply felt like working up a sweat. Catch."
Hyeok Gi-rin caught the practice sword I tossed her and studied my face. Watching her worried expression, wondering if something was wrong, I couldn't help but smile.
"Let's go a round on pure physical strength alone!"
With that, I charged straight at Hyeok Gi-rin without warning. Caught between whether to call this a spar or an ambush, she raised her sword in startled defense.
Clang!
A crude impact rang out — practice swords — and Hyeok Gi-rin settled into a ready stance as well. She began to meet my attacks not with the Sun-Shooting Sword Art, but with a different sword method.
To restrain the excessive aggression of the Sun-Shooting Sword Art, internal energy was essential. I supposed she had accepted my intent to forgo internal energy.
Hyeok Gi-rin was a woman of small build, and I was a sturdy man with a well-trained body, so I should have held the advantage — but even without using internal energy, I was merely First-rate, and Hyeok Gi-rin was a Super-Peak expert.
The gap in physical capacity is closed by the gap in technique. No — despite her physical disadvantage, Hyeok Gi-rin's technical mastery overwhelmed me.
Not that I had ever expected to win in the first place.
After exchanging blows for a long while, I stopped, out of breath. I could feel sweat running down my face. Hyeok Gi-rin, too, was catching her breath and sweating.
"Hero Hyeok Gi-rin is doing extremely well. You have every right to take pride in yourself."
"Is this a continuation of yesterday's conversation?"
She looked thoroughly startled, as if my words had come out of nowhere. But soon she gave a wry smile.
"Heh. Did you arrange all this to give me confidence? It seems I have caused Master Ho far too much worry."
In truth, hesitation still lingered in my heart. Was what I was doing right or wrong? Could I handle the consequences of what I was about to do?
Looking at Hyeok Gi-rin's apologetic expression toward me, my certainty grew a little firmer.
The phrase of enlightenment, too, pushed me from behind.
Well… at this point, wasn't it practically fate? The thought washed away the last lingering regrets and worries in my heart.
"Hero Hyeok Gi-rin has always worried for others, honored them, and loved them."
"Master Ho…?"
"That alone is enough. Because the life of the person called Hyeok Gi-rin has set other people's lives right and made them richer."
Yes. At last, my heart was settled.
To Yeo Il-ye I had given enlightenment for the sake of survival. To Tang Do-gyeong I had given enlightenment to resolve a crisis. Elder Un-jong had been pure coincidence.
With Tang Do-gyeong, at least, I had had an excuse.
Giving enlightenment to Hyeok Gi-rin was my will, pure and simple — no way around it.
So I would simply acknowledge it cleanly.
I wanted to give Hyeok Gi-rin enlightenment.
What path she would choose, and what conclusion she would reach with Yu Gyeong, were questions even I could not answer.
But I hoped her inner self would be filled not with emptiness, but with a sense of fulfillment. I believed that was the least reward owed to Princess Yu Ya, who had left her nest at a young age to avoid imperial strife, and to Hyeok Gi-rin, who loved her sect siblings and burned with indignation on behalf of others.
"Hero Hyeok Gi-rin has lived for many people. You corrected Young Lady Yeo Il-ye when she went astray, you raged against the bandits' cruelty, and you loved the disciples of the Jeomchang Sect. Those who know how to care for others will, in turn, be cared for and loved by others."
Hyeok Gi-rin's eyes went wide.
"So do not blame yourself for falling short. For Hero Hyeok Gi-rin is already loved by countless people."
"Ah…!"