Homecoming Revelry and the Emperor's Summons
With all the kids who'd left home finally back, the atmosphere at Giwangjeo was even more electric than usual. My second brother was tied up with Geum-ui-wi duties in Kaepyeong, my third was buried in studies in Zhili, and the eldest—well, he was everywhere and nowhere at once. 'The lineup is insane.' Looking at it this way, I was grateful we only had three siblings. If there'd been one more, the pattern suggested someone would've been wandering not just the Central Plains, but overseas too.
From Giwangga's perspective, it had been ages since we'd all seen each other, and the same went double for Akwangga, who lived elsewhere. "It's been so long, sister-in-law. This is the first time since you became an official, right?"
"Hehe, yes. Time flies, doesn't it."
Wait, what? "I wanted to send a congratulatory gift, but I never imagined you'd leave Kaepyeong with brother-in-law. Now that you're fully back, I'll have something sent to Akwangjeo soon."
"No need. You've already given us so much. I feel bad accepting more."
'What the hell.' Something felt off. Listening to Ak I-yeon and Ryeong-i's conversation, it didn't seem like they'd been apart that long. It was like they'd kept in touch all along.
"No need to feel bad, sister-in-law. Exchanging affections among family is only natural. I'll send something along with my sister, so please don't refuse."
Even Jin-i, who'd planted himself at Song Mountain, was acting all chummy. 'I get it now.' Watching them, it hit me. I was the only one who'd been away from my siblings for ages. Ak I-yeon had actually been seeing them more often. While I'd been rolling around the Central Plains like a dog, she'd been keeping those little connections alive.
'Maybe she's Han I-yeon, not Ak I-yeon.' Hell, she seemed more like the eldest sibling than me. Did that make me Ak Un instead of Han Un? Looking at my luck, Ak Un fit better anyway.
- Kieak.
As I watched Ak I-yeon and my siblings with a bittersweet pang, Kkieak waddled over leisurely, stuffed full of snacks from Mother. It shoved a steamed bun clutched in its beak toward me, as if saying, Eat this and cheer up.
"Thanks, buddy."
I stroked it and let out a wry chuckle. The moment its owner-slash-bestie started moping, it came over to console me. As expected from a spirit beast— it read people like a ghost.
"Oh, is that the spirit beast brother takes care of?"
Jin-i took an interest the second this random bird strolled up. He was studying all sorts of subjects up at Song Mountain, so of course he'd be curious about a rare spirit beast. Curiosity is the root of learning, after all.
"Yeah. Just call it Kkieak."
"What a name—"
"The Baekryeon Cult Leader suggested it."
"A profound beauty and logic beyond the grasp of a mere wanderer like me."
His quick pivot made me laugh again. "It's a mysterious thing, yeah. A poison bird with no poison."
Han Jin froze mid-pet, his eyes shifting to something subtle. If I had to compare, it was like a scientist eyeing an experimental subject.
- Ki, kieak?
Kkieak flinched at the intensity. 'This is what a real scholar looks like.' It warmed my heart. After dealing with corrupt officials and madmen, seeing a true one brought tears to my eyes.
Among us three, Jin-i burned with the hottest thirst for knowledge. He could pass the civil exams tomorrow if he wanted, or leverage Grandfather's name for an official post without them. Yet here he was, still studying—to quench that raging curiosity, to cram more knowledge into his head. You don't get that kind of dedication without being born with an insane drive for it.
'What kind of big things is he aiming for?' Officials usually master just their specialty. Watching Jin-i turn into a hexagon elite made my heart race. What post would the fully ripened Jin-i land? Probably dragged into the elite circles like the Cabinet or Hanlim Academy. If not, I'd recommend him myself. Our little bro deserved it.
The feast celebrating Han Un's return was more splendid than any recent gathering between Akwangga and Giwangga. The attendees were strictly limited to the two wangga households, so in sheer numbers, it was modest.
"Oh ho. A three-headed snake—not even a two-headed one's new to me."
"It's the one Nang-jung Wang raised. Docile and obedient."
"I still don't get it. Why'd a spirit beast under Nang-jung Wang's care end up with brother-in-law?"
I let Han Jung's loud chatter slide past one ear as I eyed the Giwangga grandkids huddled together whispering. The eldest son on the civil path. The eldest daughter carrying the martial line. The second son steadily studying—who knew how high he aimed. Every time I saw them, I thought of my own grandkids. Ours would be fun to watch gathered like that, but like these Giwangga kids, they were all too busy to meet.
'They're not scattered without reason, so I can't complain.' My daughter-in-law resting in our Shandong hometown after a minor illness. My eldest grandson with her, tending to his mother. My other grandkids soothing Akwangga's Shandong forces in his stead, or scattered as martial officers across Zhili. I couldn't drag those busy kids here, so only those at Akwangjeo attended. We'd all reunite at Yeon-i's wedding anyway—that was my consolation.
"Heh heh, Ak Hyeon-i. Those eyes look as gentle as a cow's."
"Shut it unless you want a headbutt."
Amid it all, Han Jung read my tangled feelings and tossed a needless jab. What an infuriating bastard. He had the insight to read hearts quick, but his words ignored everyone else's feelings. Worse than a clueless fool.
"You gonna rampage like an old bull in front of sturdy calves? Don't—it's pathetic."
What drove me madder was the jab hid a truth I couldn't ignore. Like he said, I—we—were old bulls. Our grandkids had grown into sturdy calves, not frail ones. Ready to plow fields tomorrow.
'Our era's passed.' Martial artists stayed active longer than most despite age, but since Great-Grandfather's passing, our time was effectively over. Young blood was rising to replace us old merit subjects. Won-jae, the Commander's son, hit Hwagyeong and became Geum-ui-wi Commandant. Yoo Gi's daughter was a Hwagyeong master and Jwa Do-eosa. Starting with them, the court filled with fresh faces. Proof stood before me: a kid who'd risen to third-rank before thirty, trusted by His Majesty to roam the realm on heavy duties—and succeeded.
'Three generations active at once is weird.' Our kids still serving was acceptable—father-son officials weren't rare. But grandfather and grandson together? That was odd. Old folks had to step aside for the young, like trimming bamboo to let sprouts get sun.
So this feast celebrated young blood's success—and signaled us old timers to bow out. The start of smooth generational shift.
"Ak Hyeon-i."
"What."
"Once Un marries and hits third-rank, I'll request retirement from His Majesty. Not sure about abdication, but I should at least step back from the front lines."
I looked at Han Jung. His rare seriousness meant no joke. "Han Jung."
"Yeah, speak."
"Don't talk like you've actually worked."
Not unless you want your collar grabbed in front of the grandkids. What? Retire? Step back? 'This guy's been living like a bum already.' I handled Zhili defense alone while both wang had duties. The gall, after all that.
"The hell! Why so hurtful? I sneak around the Central Plains, making dukes and marquises sweat everywhere!"
"Can't even talk right."
I held back retorts—talking long with him just gave me headaches. "If you retire, I'll prep to do the same."
Separate from his shamelessness, retirement needed serious thought. Abdication was too much, but handing over real power? We'd done our part since founding the dynasty with Great-Grandfather Taizu.
"Huh? What're you saying. You need to keep working."
"...What?"
"Can't have both Ilja Kings retire at once. I'll go first, you hold the fort till our sons hit Hwagyeong. Or till yours does."
Reason snapped back as I grabbed Han Jung's collar.
There was a minor scuffle with the two kings grabbing collars, but my homecoming feast ended successfully. Honestly, them cursing while choking each other was routine. Booze meant chaos—I'd expected it. They pulled stunts sober too, but whatever. Hwagyeong masters sobered faster from water bloat than alcohol, and Grandfather's antics were always one-way—I ignored that.
'First time the air tastes this good.' The morning after the mad revelry at Giwangjeo felt incredibly refreshing. Sweet. The air was sweet, the morning breeze sweeter. Lingering alcohol melted away instantly.
- Kki-ing.
- Kki-ong~
"Sleep well, you two?"
As I savored the fine morning, Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i strolled over from the garden. Imagination? Their fur seemed glossier than usual. No, not imagination. This was Giwangjeo, heart of the realm in Kaepyeong. Better condition than provincial tours was natural.
"Let's stay here forever."
I hugged their necks close and whispered. From now on, I'd stick to Kaepyeong. Even if the Great Wall breached tomorrow, reviving the Sixteen Kingdoms and sacking the capital—I'd die with it. Crack my skull, I'd still be a Kaepyeong man. The air turned bitter.
"Crown Prince of Giwangga, Jwa-cheom Do-eosa Han Un—His Majesty's command to enter the palace."
The sweetness lasted less than a day before bitterness struck. 'At least give me a few more days...' Midway through family breakfast with Akwangga, I quietly set down my chopsticks. At least he hadn't summoned me on return day—that was His Majesty's mercy, I guess.