The Burden of a Ruined Family
Jegal Seon-a felt deeply uncomfortable in her current seat. Why was that? If she considered each person gathered here individually, they were all quite close to her. There was Namgung Woo, whom she had longed to reunite with enough to travel all the way from Wuhan to Luoyang. There were the members of the Changcheon Squad, with whom she had shared joys and hardships on the battlefield for the past month. And there was even Paeng Ha-ryeong, her friend since childhood. The biggest reason, she suspected, lay with someone else entirely.
The man sitting right beside Paeng Ha-ryeong. Under Paeng Ja-ryeong’s gaze, Jegal Seon-a felt herself shrinking smaller and smaller. 'This is exactly why I wanted to come in after they left...!'
She had sensed something off the moment the Paeng family appeared. The fact that they had come looking for Namgung Woo themselves, rather than summoning him, spoke volumes. There had been no prior rumor of the Paeng family arriving in Luoyang ahead of time, which meant they must have reached the city today. And the first thing they did upon arrival was seek out Namgung Woo.
She had tried to hope they might have come to see Paeng Ha-ryeong, but Paeng Ja-ryeong was openly directing most of his conversation toward Namgung Woo. The only interest he had shown anyone else was the first few polite greetings he offered to Jegal Seon-a, despite their long acquaintance. 'It's confirmed... they're completely official now...!'
In truth, the way Paeng Ha-ryeong called him “Gaga” had already half-confirmed it, but a sliver of hope had remained. Even if Paeng Ha-ryeong felt that way, Namgung Woo’s attitude toward her had always carried a certain distance. Besides, the term “Gaga” wasn’t used exclusively between lovers. In its purest sense, it was no different from calling someone “older brother.” It was a title that could apply to any older man. Of course, knowing Paeng Ha-ryeong’s personality, it surely carried far more weight than that.
Yet in the time Jegal Seon-a had not seen them—those roughly ten days since they parted ways in Hongho-hyeon—the subtle distance between Paeng Ha-ryeong and Namgung Woo had vanished without a trace. The way Paeng Ha-ryeong naturally interjected into the conversation between Paeng Ja-ryeong and Namgung Woo felt entirely effortless. And Paeng Ja-ryeong treated the pair exactly like a brother-in-law visiting his younger sister and her husband.
'But... I knew this would happen. Father told me as much... Unlike Ha-ryeong, I still don’t even fully understand my own heart... Nothing has been decided yet.'
Jegal Seon-a acknowledged it. She was ignorant, and her position was far weaker. If Paeng Ja-ryeong was acting this way, then the head of the Paeng family, Paeng Hu-sang, would be no different. The family had already given their blessing. Paeng Ha-ryeong was far ahead. But the gateway did not allow only one person to pass through.
'If you look at it that way, Father is cheering for me too, so there’s really no difference!'
With that thought, the chill that had settled over her enthusiasm began to burn hot once more. True to her Jegal family heritage, Jegal Seon-a trusted her sharp mind and spun her thoughts furiously, searching for the optimal move she could make in this moment.
The topic between Paeng Ja-ryeong and Namgung Woo was largely political—why this particular Murim Alliance conference had been called. Since Jegal Seon-a knew nothing about it, she let that pass. The occasional additions from Paeng Ha-ryeong were simply filling in Namgung Woo’s gaps in knowledge about the Murim world. That was something Paeng Ha-ryeong could handle alone, so she let that pass too. Which left...
'F-for now, I should just listen attentively! The old sages wrote in their books that those who listen well speak well later...'
She would play the role of the attentive listener.
Paeng Ja-ryeong was well aware that Jegal Seon-a had been lost in her own thoughts, looking rather pitiful. Watching her obvious awareness of Namgung Woo, he chuckled inwardly. 'Ah, this takes me back...'
There had been a time when he was like that too. Five years ago, when he first came to Luoyang. His popularity after reaching the semifinals of the martial tournament had been nothing short of sky-piercing. Though he had only been at the late stage of the Peak Realm back then, the number of women who flocked to him, desperate for even a single glance from the one called the Tyrant Dragon, had been enormous.
In the end, he had fulfilled his duty as the young master by entering a political marriage and becoming a married man. But Namgung Woo had no such constraints. And from Paeng Ja-ryeong’s perspective—not as Paeng Ha-ryeong’s older brother, but as the cold and calculating young master of the Paeng family—Namgung Woo was not the type to stop at just one political marriage even if he chose that path.
Rebuilding the Namgung family? Very well. But if the only Namgung left was Namgung Woo himself, could that truly be called a family? It would be little more than a sect. Although he had secured one survivor, the road to truly restoring the Namgung family was still long and arduous. The fastest and most reliable way to solve that problem was for Namgung Woo to take multiple wives and produce heirs quickly.
'Ha-ryeong has probably already resigned herself to that.'
As her older brother who cherished his little sister, he naturally wanted to help her fend off the women gathering around Namgung Woo. But was that truly the best path for her?
'Ha-ryeong wouldn’t want me interfering anyway, and meddling in the affairs of the family’s benefactor would be an ugly sight.'
If it had been after Namgung Woo borrowed the Paeng family’s strength in his fight against the Dokgo family, things might be different. But until the Paeng family fully repaid that debt, such interference was out of the question.
Having reached his conclusion, Paeng Ja-ryeong smoothly wrapped up the conversation with Namgung Woo like a snake slipping over a wall and rose from his seat.
“It seems the fatigue from today’s journey still lingers. I should take my leave first.”
“Won’t you stay for dinner?”
“Haha, it’s been a long time since I’ve been in Luoyang. I ought to meet some old acquaintances. Please excuse me.”
Namgung Woo did not press him further as Paeng Ja-ryeong offered a plausible excuse and departed.
Once Paeng Ja-ryeong left, the center of conversation naturally shifted toward Jegal Seon-a. It was already approaching evening. If they stayed for dinner as well, it would become quite late. Although Namgung Woo knew that the prestigious sects and families each maintained one or two bases in Luoyang, he asked her out of courtesy.
“By the way, Lady Jegal, have you secured accommodations?”
The answer Namgung Woo expected was yes. He assumed she would reply that, like the Paeng family, the Jegal family also kept a villa in Luoyang, which would allow him to naturally transition into inviting her to dinner. But Jegal Seon-a’s train of thought completely rejected that expectation.
“Ah, no!”
“That’s fortunate. Then perhaps we could have dinner... hmm?”
“Eh...?”
“With the arrival of the Moyong family today, everyone has now gathered. All thirty-three representatives—comprising the Nine Great Schools, the Seven Great Families, and the sixteen leaders representing the righteous Murim of each province—have expressed their intention to participate.”
“Excellent. I cannot express how reassuring it is to have you remain with the Alliance. I rely on you always.”
“You flatter me. On the contrary, I am endlessly grateful that you have kept me here, Alliance Leader. Even if I returned to the imperial court, what great position could I possibly claim?”
Woo Myeon spoke with a bitter smile. No matter that he had received a pardon from the emperor himself, the stigma of belonging to the family that had once deposed the emperor would never disappear. Even if that act had ultimately been a decision made to protect the nation.
As he recalled the eternal tragedy of his family, a young girl’s face suddenly came to mind, and Woo Myeon spoke again.
“By the way... everything truly unfolded exactly as you predicted, Alliance Leader.”
“Hmm?”
“That child.”
“Ah, you mean Sol.”
When Woo Myeon had suggested that they prepare an alternative plan regarding Namgung Sol, Gak-won had simply replied that it would resolve itself and not to worry. And just as he had said, Namgung Woo had taken her in. All they had done was quietly allow her to go meet him on her own. They had not yet determined exactly what kind of barrier technique had been deployed during their encounter, but the sorcerers reported no particular problems, so there was nothing to worry about.
Had it been a formal request, they would have needed to pay a corresponding price. But since Namgung Woo had stepped forward himself, there was no need to concern themselves with compensation. It was as if they had blown their nose without lifting a finger.
“Is it not truly remarkable? The leader of the Murim Alliance and the head of the Sang-pyeon-dang... not many would fail to understand how enormous a favor that represents in this world.”
Ordinary people spent their entire lives hoping for even a single glimpse of their faces. If given such an opportunity, they would scramble desperately, even at the cost of their lives, to seize that connection. Such was the value of Gak-won, one of the Twelve Venerables and the leader of the Murim Alliance.
Feeling as though his inner thoughts had been exposed, Woo Myeon gave an awkward cough and continued.
“Of course, if he protects that child Sol well, we would offer a certain degree of support out of moral obligation. However, since this is not an official request from the Murim Alliance, we would provide indirect assistance by prioritizing her in future requests...”
“There is no need for that. Has he not already brought two of the Seven Great Families to his side? Such clumsy patronage would only be a nuisance to him.”
Rather than that, Gak-won believed Namgung Woo would prefer to broaden his understanding of martial arts by witnessing the supreme techniques of Shaolin. Those who reached the level of supreme expert at a young age were inevitably obsessed with the martial path.
'Just as Jayang Jin-in was.'
Jayang Jin-in had been the winner of the previous martial tournament. He now occupied one of the Twelve Venerable seats, but five years ago he had been called the greatest of the younger generation and bore the title of Dragon. Jayang had used the implicit privilege granted to the tournament winner—the right to challenge anyone in Luoyang—to request a spar with Gak-won.
“Still, I cannot help but feel some concern.”
“Concern?”
“He would not have taken Sol in without reason. There must be something he stands to gain... Did he target her because he learned she was from the Namgung family? How many have approached her with such intentions?”
The first to approach Namgung Sol after she openly revealed herself as a member of the Namgung clan was not the Murim Alliance. It had been the smaller and medium-sized sects hoping to obtain some of the Namgung family’s martial arts. The reason they had withdrawn obediently after the Murim Alliance (more precisely, the unit directly under the Alliance Leader) silenced them by invoking the Dokgo family was that they had realized the martial arts she possessed were not particularly remarkable.
“The martial arts Sol learned are not great enough to warrant enduring conflict with the Dokgo family. Yet he still took her in... Honestly, only one possibility comes to mind.”
Perhaps the Alliance Leader had read his interest in Namgung Sol. To Woo Myeon, that seemed the most rational conclusion. Although Gak-won’s superior dantian technique, the Ta-sim-tong, had not worked, the experience and insight accumulated as a senior of the Murim world and leader of the Murim Alliance was considerable. Gak-won must have perceived something Woo Myeon had missed.
“I know Sol is adorable, but...”
“It is not that, so set your worries aside.”
“Pardon?”
“More surprising is that you would worry about Sol so deeply. I had no idea.”
“...You would not know, Alliance Leader.”
Woo Myeon remembered. The days when his family had been torn apart, when fingers had been pointed at them as traitors. The helplessness, despair, and emptiness he had felt then—Namgung Sol must be experiencing the same. Having taken his father’s mistakes as a warning, Woo Myeon always prepared escape routes and contingency plans. The reason he had helped Namgung Sol purely on Gak-won’s request was that he had seen his younger self in that small girl.
“The endless pressure of having to restore a ruined family... that is hell itself.”
“Why would I not know?”
Gak-won did not remember his family. He had been taken in by Shaolin Temple at such a young age that he could not even recall it, and had lived as a novice monk. But he had a sect that he loved as dearly as family. Watching that sect be half-destroyed during the Blood Cult catastrophe, Gak-won had screamed in his soul day after day. Of his sworn brothers in the Gakja-bae, all but two had died. The Gongja-bae, the senior generation of the Gakja-bae, had not even left two survivors; every last one had perished. The Blood Cult had chosen Shaolin Temple as the place to first reveal its existence to the world.
Shaolin’s power had indeed been tremendous. In the end they had repelled the attackers, but because of an assault that came without declaration or warning, Shaolin had lost half its forces from the very beginning and been forced to face the catastrophe. The thirty years of seclusion Shaolin had chosen was not so different from rebuilding a ruined family.
“...I have spoken out of turn. Knowing the circumstances of Shaolin, and yet...”
“It is fine. Everything began when this old monk insisted on his own way.”
Gak-won stopped Woo Myeon’s self-reproach and changed the subject.
“More importantly, I find myself afraid that the time is coming once again.”
“The time?”
“Look at the young talents shining like stars in the sky right now. Since the last martial tournament, geniuses have been appearing without pause. After Jayang, there is Nam Woo. At this rate, it would not be strange for yet another to emerge.”
It had been the same fifty years ago. Right before the Ghost Gates opened, as if to declare that this was the pinnacle of the human era, countless geniuses had sprung up across the Nine Provinces like bamboo after rain. And as if it were a trial given to them, the Blood Cult had appeared. Mencius had said that heaven prepares trials and tribulations to nurture those who would accomplish great deeds. If so, then conversely, the appearance of great figures could be seen as a sign that an equally enormous trial was approaching.
After carefully considering Gak-won’s foreboding prediction for the future, Woo Myeon asked cautiously.
“...But is it permissible for the Alliance Leader to speak of heaven? You may be a martial monk, but you are still a Buddhist monk.”
“Does it sound strange? Then let us say Buddha instead of heaven.”