Was There Even a Grudge? -1
Humans are creatures that learn.
I, too, am human, and I had learned.
The Tang Family motto: Repay kindness twofold; repay grudges tenfold.
A truly memorable family precept—so let us examine it for a moment. Why on earth would such a phrase be designated as their motto?
Tang Do-gyeong had simply torn through all of Sichuan because he wanted to complete a single martial art.
Dang Do-yeon had locked the clan head’s guest inside a carriage and then driven it down a slope at top speed.
And Tang Gwang-ryeol? Throughout the week of my lectures he had marveled and marveled again, yet every so often his eyes would flash. During breaks he would occasionally rub his forehead while staring at my black hat.
More precisely, he had been eyeing the plump, tempting forehead hidden beneath that hat.
The more I met and experienced the people of the Tang Family, the more keenly I felt it.
Ah. These bastards just do whatever the hell they want, favors and grudges be damned!
That was why they had established such a motto in the first place—to hammer home the very concepts of kindness and grudge!
Look at that, Clan Head Tang Gwang-ryeol’s eyes.
I had spent an entire week teaching him gambling techniques without holding anything back, and thanks to that he had won. The clan head himself understood that fact perfectly well.
Was that all? When Tang Do-gyeong demonstrated control over the stakes, Tang Gwang-ryeol had even admitted with his own mouth that he had been in the grip of a gambling addiction.
On top of that, he had personally offered words of thanks.
And still his gaze was anything but ordinary.
Even as I congratulated him on his victory, Tang Gwang-ryeol’s eyes remained fixed on a single spot.
My forehead!
A gaze locked dead-center on my forehead! A forehead whose eyebrows I had raised with every ounce of strength, wrinkling the skin into a defensive posture! It radiated the will to land even a single forehead flick no matter what.
Tang Gwang-ryeol was a Tang, and Tang bastards were the sort who simply had to do whatever they wanted to do.
Favors be damned—his eyes screamed that he was going crazy for just one forehead flick!
Suppose I let the clan head give me one forehead flick.
What would Tang Gwang-ryeol, already aiming that flick, be thinking? I took more than a dozen of them, yet I only get to return one—what a shame. Maybe I should hit a little harder. Yeah, the guy’s only Second-rate; he can handle a touch of internal energy just fine.
Right. I had taken a full thirteen of them, so one solid hit was only fair.
In a situation where he so desperately wanted just that one strike, could Tang Gwang-ryeol deliver a forehead flick while carefully considering my life? I thought not.
Trust a Tang? Trust Tang Gwang-ryeol’s self-control? I would rather change my surname than trust a Tang.
If I ever trusted a Tang, I would no longer be Ho Cheon-an—I would be Meow Cheon-an.
Sensing that Tang Gwang-ryeol was about to challenge me to a forehead-flick duel, I hurriedly opened my mouth.
“Clan Head, you have not yet finished settling every matter.”
As I said, humans learn, and since I had already suffered at the hands of the Tangs, I had prepared a countermeasure.
“...Master?”
Tang Gwang-ryeol wore a look of bewilderment at my words.
I gazed at him with the most proud, approving eyes I could muster. After his match against Tang Do-gyeong he had regained his confidence; it would not have been strange for him to challenge me to a gamble right then and there.
With my hands clasped behind my back I moved slowly toward the gambling table. Tang Gwang-ryeol’s questioning stare followed, as did those of Pungyeong Daeju and Tang Do-gyeong.
This body of Ho Cheon-an. A seven-year veteran Nangin of Sichuan and a master of performance.
Though I specialized in villain roles, I could play other characters as well.
Today I was “the master who rejoices in his disciple’s achievement while gently pointing out what has been overlooked.”
A faint smile and unhurried steps. Yet every gesture of body and hand carried conviction and confidence.
My actions filled Tang Gwang-ryeol’s eyes with as much doubt as resolve.
“You must bring things to a proper close.”
On the gambling table I lightly indicated lay the hidden weapons Tang Gwang-ryeol had won today.
“Mm... of course returning the hidden weapons to the direct descendants is urgent. However, first...”
“You intend to ‘return’ the hidden weapons? Hah... Clan Head.”
When I spoke in a tone of mild reproach, Tang Gwang-ryeol also paused.
“As an outsider I am reluctant to discuss the laws of the Tang Family, yet just as Your Lordship bestowed a hidden weapon upon Brother Tang a moment ago, do you mean simply to hand the others back to the rest of the family in the same fashion?”
“Is that not what must be done? Of course a proper reprimand will be delivered as well.”
I kept my smile and countered, performing the role of a master who poses a koan in the hope that his disciple will discover the correct answer.
“Do you truly intend to do so? Your Lordship went to the trouble of recovering those hidden weapons from Brother Do-gyeong through gambling, after all.”
At my words Tang Gwang-ryeol gave a bitter laugh.
“Haha, are you saying the hidden weapons must be redistributed through gambling? There is no guarantee those children can win, and... most of the direct descendants became deadly serious in their matches against Do-gyeong. There is hardly a hidden weapon they would not stake.”
“Indeed. Ya Nangin. Most of them no longer even possess a single hidden weapon left for training, which is why the direct descendants have gathered outside the Clan Head’s Hall.”
Pungyeong Daeju added.
“Clan Head Tang. What was the commission Your Lordship entrusted to me?”
“That was... a request to teach gambling.”
“Correct. Yet teaching gambling was never the true problem Your Lordship sought to resolve, was it? Defeating Brother Do-gyeong at gambling was merely the primary issue.”
“...Haha.”
Tang Gwang-ryeol still seemed unable to grasp what I was driving at.
Of course—his head was full of nothing but the forehead-flick duel he planned to have with me, so how could my words possibly enter his ears?
“Yabawi is a gamble anyone can win if only luck is on their side, is it not?”
Tang Gwang-ryeol still watched me with an uncomprehending expression, yet he nodded.
“With luck and stakes, anyone can take the pot.”
“Haha, true enough. Master Ya... this one...”
He had probably been about to ask, “Just what are you trying to say?” I cut him off before the words could leave his mouth.
“Your Lordship said the direct descendants needed a ‘reprimand.’ Somehow I feel I already showed you the means on the very first day.”
I curled my fingers into a circle. Tang Do-gyeong looked at me as if wondering what that was supposed to mean, but Tang Gwang-ryeol’s and Pungyeong Daeju’s eyes went wide.
“...Ha... haha...”
Tang Gwang-ryeol burst into laughter.
“Hahahahahahaha!”
Tang Gwang-ryeol was one of the foremost masters in the Murim and, at the same time, the head of the Tang Family. To take a forehead flick? Of course it would be etched into his heart.
Clan head or not, getting flicked on the forehead was bound to make anyone furious.
Yet who was the one who had delivered those flicks? What had he done for him? This body of Ho Cheon-an. The man who had poured the very essence of gambling into him for a full week. Thanks to that, Tang Gwang-ryeol had scored a splendid victory over Tang Do-gyeong, his gambling skill had advanced by leaps and bounds, and he had recovered every last hidden weapon.
Tang Gwang-ryeol might want to flick my forehead, but even he knew perfectly well that it would be a shameless act.
That was why he had been unable to bring it up outright and had only been firing off those looks.
“Though it is presumptuous of me, I asked Pungyeong Daeju to gather every direct descendant who suffered losses.”
“That is correct! Word had already spread and the direct descendants who lost their hidden weapons were flocking toward the Clan Head’s Hall when Ya Nangin requested that I assemble every last one of the victims...!”
Had he finally grasped the grand design? Pungyeong Daeju spoke in an impassioned tone, gazing at me with eyes full of awe.
“Just how far ahead did you see, Master...!”
Yes. If he wanted to deliver forehead flicks, he should deliver them.
So I had gathered them.
The sacrificial lambs who would give Tang Gwang-ryeol a perfectly justified reason to flick foreheads to his heart’s content.
“Wahahahahahaha! Yes! Master Ya is right! What was lost through gambling must be reclaimed through gambling! And a reprimand as well! Hahahahaha!”
The clan head would stake the hidden weapons; the direct descendants would take forehead flicks and gamble. The direct descendants would receive a stinging life lesson along with those flicks, rub their foreheads, and walk away with their weapons.
Rather than feel the pangs of conscience while contemplating a forehead flick against his benefactor, he would deliver flicks—no, lessons—to those who truly deserved them.
A grudge against me?
There had never been a grudge in the first place! It had all been a misunderstanding!
I had designed even this part; I was merely the gambling master who had passed along the forehead flick as a means for the clan head to set matters right.
Everything had been an action and a piece of advice for the sake of the Tang Clan Head.
A method of physical therapy, and a prophecy that had foreseen the present situation.
Never had I thought, while flicking the clan head’s forehead, “Ah, that was fun”—and once he realized that, any grudge he might have harbored would melt away completely.
Whether my prediction was correct or not, Tang Gwang-ryeol’s eyes as he roared with laughter and looked at me were crystal clear. Seeing those eyes free of even a speck of grudge, I shot him one last satisfied glance and smile, then pulled my black hat lower.
“Pungyeong Daeju!”
“Yes, Clan Head!”
“Bring every direct descendant gathered outside the Clan Head’s Hall inside!”
“As you command!”
I clapped the shoulder of Tang Do-gyeong, who still wore a blank expression, unable to grasp the situation.
“Brother Do-gyeong, let us take our leave. It seems the Clan Head and Pungyeong Daeju will be rather busy.”
“Mm... I do not fully understand what has just happened, yet I have the feeling things have worked out well.”
Tang Do-gyeong offered a good-natured smile.
“I have long felt uneasy that, though Brother Ya has stayed with the Tang Family for some time, I have never once treated him properly. Might this Tang fellow offer a meal today? Father, Mother, and Ryeo-a all seemed eager to meet Brother Ya.”
Are you sure they want to meet me? Your sense of atmosphere is terrible.
The words rose to the tip of my tongue, yet Tang Do-gyeong’s proposal was exactly what I needed, so I smiled and nodded.
“Very well. I, too, have wanted to share a cup with Brother Do-gyeong.”
Finally I gripped the brim of my black hat and gave the clan head a light bow. Tang Gwang-ryeol nodded in return.
“Now that we have the Clan Head’s permission, let us go.”
“Hahaha! I shall lead the way!”
Shoulder to shoulder with Tang Do-gyeong, I stepped out of the Clan Head’s Hall.
I could see the direct descendants pouring inside in a noisy throng.
Whether sparks flew from their foreheads or blood spattered—
It was no longer any concern of mine.