Chapter 38
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 38
Chapter Title: The Child-Rearing Protagonist Wasn't Me
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Uiseong stepped forward as if to shield me, planting his legs in a cocky stance and looking up at Peng Haran's brother.
Don't do that. It just makes your already short height look even smaller.
"You're way older than our little kid here, aren't you? And unfortunately, this one's a Dao—"
"No, what the hell kind of misunderstanding is this!"
Peng Haran's brother cut him off with a face like he was about to lose his mind.
"You think I'm insane enough to be interested in some runt who's like a baby brother to my little sister!"
"Then why are you wandering around looking for our kid?"
While the two of them engaged in this utterly insane conversation, Namgung Seheon, who was standing behind Uiseong with me, muttered under his breath.
"That guy's got such bad eyesight no matter when I see him. Is the huge build and the nearsightedness hereditary in that family?"
"How old is he?"
"He's the same age as my older sister. Eighteen. He was even a candidate for her fiancé once. Ended up being the Jeonmyeong Family in the end, though."
Ten years younger than his sister. He's a late child, too.
No wonder he's so soft on her.
Still, that face at eighteen? How does he look older than Uiseong, who's in his mid-twenties?
Peng Haran's brother peeked around Uiseong's back, spotted me, and scratched the back of his head.
"Our little sis was so upset that she couldn't hear his name..."
It was such a perfectly doting-big-brother reason that I couldn't help but nod in understanding.
"You're seriously sweating buckets and searching high and low like this?"
"The kid said she wouldn't eat unless she heard his name—eat, I tell you!"
At Uiseong's baffled question, he pounded his chest with a hand like a pot lid, his face full of righteous indignation.
Whoa, starving yourself could actually be a threat or bargaining chip?
If I said I wouldn't eat, they really wouldn't feed me, and I'd go hungry for the meal.
Thanks to that, I learned early on as a kid that refusing to eat only hurts me.
The side that's hypersensitive and turns the palace upside down at the mere mention of not eating vs. the side that actually withholds food.
So, which one is the fluffy child-rearing story now?
Uiseong looked up at Peng Haran's brother with a speechless expression, sighed, and gave my name in my stead.
"It's Biyeon. Biyeon. Happy now? Make sure to tell your little sis properly. And take him with you when you—"
The moment he heard my name from Uiseong, he bolted off like the wind toward Namgung Seheon—before Uiseong could even shove him.
Uiseong clicked his tongue in disappointment.
Huh, this situation feels familiar from yesterday.
"I said the Mount Hua sword is the strongest, so shouldn't you take responsibility and escort us all the way? Handing us off to someone else?"
"Tch, kid. As long as you get to the Jade Clarity Pavilion, it doesn't matter who takes you."
Uiseong glanced down at the gruffly replying Namgung Seheon and shoved our backs, urging us to hurry.
Finally arriving where the Jade Clarity Pavilion came into view, we saw quite a crowd coming and going.
I had no desire to weave through that throng at the entrance, so I patted Namgung Seheon's back, signaling that he was on his own from here.
No way even a guy as directionally challenged as him could get lost with the building right in sight.
After taking a few steps, he paused, turned back to me, and flashed a grin.
"Hey, Biyeon. Let's have a rematch next time. Of course, I'll win again."
I smirked crookedly and shot back right away.
"Don't make me laugh. I lost this time 'cause I wasn't used to the real sword yet. Once I get the feel, I'll be the one winning next time."
I'll make him taste the bitterness of defeat that I felt.
I could see Uiseong shaking his head at our exchange of fighting spirit, but I ignored it.
Namgung Seheon shrugged at my words and taunted me.
"Huh, I heard excuses about weapons are the most common alibi for losers."
"You wanna die?"
I lunged to grab Namgung Seheon's collar, but then hands lifted me up by the waist, and I flailed my legs.
"Ah, Martial Uncle! Put me down!"
"Any later and you'll miss dinner."
Uiseong tucked my struggling self under his arm and leisurely walked away.
"I'll make you realize down to your bones that it's not an excuse! Just watch!"
Even firmly held, I twisted my head back and yelled.
Namgung Seheon waved at me casually, like he was greeting a monkey from outside the zoo enclosure.
Once Namgung Seheon was out of sight, Uiseong promptly dropped me to the ground.
"Sheesh, since you picked me up, carry me to the dining hall at least."
"Walk on your own two feet, kid. Hey, hold still. Let's redo your hair from the top. It's a total mess."
As he undid the hair tie and retied my tangled hair, something I'd completely forgotten came rushing back.
Oh, right. My hair tie.
Still haven't gotten it back today, damn it.
* * *
The sky had already darkened to a deep gloom.
The training ground used by the Bija disciples was separate from the Jade Clarity Pavilion where guests stayed, so even though the adults had excused mandatory training time, there were still some out practicing.
Like Biyeong, or, well, Biyeong.
"Slacking off and now cramming all your missed training?"
"How much would it take to catch up on all the missed practice?"
"If you skipped meals and sleep for a whole month or two, practicing all day every day, you'd roughly make it up."
Did I really skip that much training...?
Even Biyeong, who stayed the latest, finally gave up with some parting advice to call it a night, leaving me alone in the late evening training ground.
The wooden sword in my hand felt unusually light.
To get used to it, I need to pick up a real sword as soon as possible.
My bitten lip stung, but I ignored it and swung the sword. Familiar forms sliced through the chilly night air, embroidering the empty space.
"Take it easy. You'll hurt yourself."
I sheathed the wooden sword at the voice from behind and turned.
"...Hello, Grand Martial Uncle."
I reluctantly cupped my hands and bowed to Doseon, who stood with his arms behind his back.
"You didn't even greet your master this evening and holed up here? Uihyeon had to trek all the way to the Jade Maiden Grounds looking for you."
I pouted with my head still lowered at the voice full of reproach.
Past or present, he seemed plenty annoyed at me for stealing away his disciple's time.
He should've gone to the Jade Maiden Grounds, and Uihyeon should've come here!
Doseon scanned my sweat-soaked state from top to bottom and clicked his tongue.
"Was one defeat such a humiliation? Look at you, so impatient. You really are just a kid."
"I'm eight. Of course I'm a kid."
"Always talking back."
Doseon flicked my forehead and lightly took the wooden sword from my hand.
Hey, give it back.
The wooden sword in Doseon's hand looked just like a toy. When I reached out, it tapped my head lightly and pulled away.
Doseon's voice softened a bit, flowing gently into my ears.
"Growth, the fruits of effort—they don't appear in a flash. They're built up steadily, bit by bit."
I sniffled in the blowing cold wind, and Doseon sighed deeply, taking off his robe and draping it over my shoulders like a blanket.
As soon as he let go, the long hem dragged on the dirt floor, but then he suddenly scooped me up.
"If you push yourself like this now, you won't see results anytime soon—you'll just harm your body."
Our eyes met at the new level.
"Grand Martial Uncle, you feeling okay?"
"Haa..."
At my cautious question, Doseon let out a deep sigh and pulled the robe over my head like a sack.
"Can't you even sense someone right behind you? Aren't you worried for your martial nephew swinging a sword without noticing? I've told you over and over—no stray thoughts when you swing."
"I was just... thinking about what I could learn from the defeat."
At my mumble, Doseon tossed back an answer.
"If victory teaches you accomplishment and confidence, defeat teaches humility."
"Humility?"
"You're out here on your own two feet, practicing late into the night—even after skipping like Uiseong does every day."
"No, that's not it. I just came out 'cause I was pissed."
Doseon chuckled at my immediate denial and asked.
"Do you remember the swords of your martial siblings, after clashing hundreds of times and beating them?"
Remember their swords? I shook my head.
I vaguely recalled Bihwan's sword—the one I sparred with most—but the others? Not really.
"Then that Namgung kid's sword?"
That quiet question automatically brought back Namgung Seheon swinging his blade. The form I couldn't parry, my own slightly off attack.
And that final strike that made me lose.
Vividly, unlike all the previous spars that hadn't stuck in my memory.
I thought I understood what humility meant now.
The defeat that came to me, who had blindly trusted my skills until then, taught me that I could lose to someone, too.
"The victor has no need to analyze the loser's sword. But the loser is different."
"......"
"If you wallow in the shock of defeat and do nothing, it's poison. But if you analyze that sword and find the path to victory, it's the answer."
As the sudden barrage of wisdom left me speechless, staring at him, a large hand plopped down on my head.
"Did that Namgung kid overwhelm you?"
"No, not exactly..."
"Then don't catch pointless feelings of inferiority."
The hand patting my head lightly was unusually gentle.
"Feelings of inferiority blind you to your own abilities and just breed hatred for your opponent—it's poison."
Nice one. I'll remember that and use it later.
Finally arriving at the hall where the third-generation disciples stayed, Doseon removed his robe from around me and set me down.
"I'll tell Uihyeon I brought you to the hall, so hurry up, wash, and sleep."
I bellowed at Doseon's back as he turned sharply.
"Thanks, Grand Martial Uncle!"
Whether he didn't like hearing it or felt awkward, Doseon's steps quickened noticeably after my greeting.
Fat chance that guy's ever turning into a martial-nephew fool—not even 0.000001%.