Why Are You Alive?
Namgung Woo could feel every eye in the vicinity snapping toward the child born with a heavenly fate. As the gazes converged, he studied the man walking toward them. Most martial artists aged slowly and retained youthful faces, yet this one struck him as roughly thirty years old. It wasn’t merely appearance; it was the instinctive impression Namgung Woo received at a glance.
The young master of the Paeng Family. His bearing was undeniably exceptional. His aura felt more stable than Paeng Mu-ho’s, who stood at the threshold between the Peak and Transcendent realms. He contained the energy that naturally leaked from his body with refined control.
Transcendent Realm? It’s ambiguous. It seemed possible, yet not entirely certain. Even if he had crossed that threshold, it was likely a recent and tenuous achievement.
While Namgung Woo assessed Paeng Ja-ryeong, the man was already speaking with Paeng Ha-ryeong.
“How did you come all the way out here?”
“When my little sister overcame a grave crisis and returned, how could her older brother simply sit and wait? Besides, the benefactor who saved you is accompanying you. It is only proper that I come out to greet him personally.”
After meticulously examining his younger sister’s condition and confirming she was truly unharmed, Paeng Ja-ryeong finally let his gaze sweep across the rest of the group.
“So, where is this person? I must offer my thanks first.”
Namgung Woo and the Yang twins stood beside Paeng Ha-ryeong, yet Paeng Ja-ryeong unconsciously excluded them from consideration. The Yang brothers had yet to reach the Peak Realm; that much was obvious. As for Namgung Woo, Paeng Ja-ryeong failed to recognize his true depth for two reasons: his own lower cultivation, and the fact that Namgung Woo had deliberately altered his aura during the journey from Beijing to Tianjin until it resembled that of an ordinary martial artist.
In Paeng Ja-ryeong’s eyes, there was little distinction between the Yang twins and Namgung Woo. Naturally, he could not imagine the latter as the benefactor who had saved his sister.
Paeng Ha-ryeong, who had assisted Namgung Woo greatly in mastering that aura control, immediately read her brother’s misunderstanding. Though his eyes appeared to rest on the group, she could tell his gaze was actually scanning the entire area.
Suppressing a laugh, she opened her palm and gestured toward Namgung Woo beside her.
“This is the person. Eungong, as you just heard, this is my older brother.”
For a split second, Paeng Ja-ryeong wondered if his sister was teasing him. Yet the experience he had accumulated while serving as acting young master of a great family was no superficial polish. He reflexively cupped his fist and offered a precise, courteous greeting.
“I am Paeng Ja-ryeong. The comrades of the jianghu call me the Unshakable Blade Lord.”
Was it a simple self-introduction, or a subtle probe—This is who I am; who are you? His posture was so impeccably proper that either interpretation fit. Namgung Woo suspected the latter.
“I am Nam Woo. I do not yet possess a separate title.”
“Ah, I see.”
On the surface Paeng Ja-ryeong brushed it aside, but his mind whirled with rapid calculations.
His physique and features are certainly outstanding. Yet his aura does not appear particularly remarkable. For his age he is exceptional, but that level alone seems insufficient. Ha-ryeong would not tease me about something like this, and Uncle showed no reaction, so it must be true… A rejuvenated expert? Returned to youth? He doesn’t carry the air of an old master, though. Ah, could it be…?
“Perhaps…”
The moment Paeng Ja-ryeong carefully prepared to voice his most plausible conclusion, Paeng Ha-ryeong cut in.
“Instead of lingering out here, let’s head inside. We’re blocking the road for others.”
“Ah? Oh, yes. Of course. Benefactor, why don’t you first come to our residence and rest from your journey?”
“I won’t refuse.”
With their number now doubled, the group drew countless eyes as they walked along Tianjin’s main avenue. The Paeng Family members, long accustomed to such attention, paid it no mind. The Yang twins, however, grew visibly tense and edged closer to Namgung Woo. In contrast, Namgung Woo remained perfectly composed. Walking shoulder to shoulder with Paeng Ja-ryeong and Paeng Ha-ryeong, he displayed no hint of deference. If anything, he seemed every bit their equal in natural dignity.
The Paeng Family had never placed excessive importance on refinement or aristocratic airs, yet direct bloodline carried its own innate nobility. The reason Namgung Woo was not overshadowed by them was obvious.
Thinking the exact same thought, the Yang twins turned their heads in perfect unison.
As expected of the Namgung Family. Their innate disposition is on another level.
Indeed. Even without studying the arts of kingship, a prestigious house remains prestigious. Such qualities do not fade in merely one or two generations.
And we’re following a leader like that?
We’re not so different from those Paeng Family martial artists, are we?
The twins unconsciously squared their shoulders. Strength filled their steps. Who are we? The first subordinates chosen by the last survivor of the Namgung Family.
Anyone watching the brothers’ twitching lips might have found their expressions distasteful, but fortunately every eye remained fixed on the three figures ahead. No embarrassing scene occurred.
“Twenty-six years old. You look remarkably young. At first I took you for a youth who had only just come of age.”
After revealing his age once to Paeng Ha-ryeong, Namgung Woo had made it clear he was twenty-six. Martial artists generally retained youthful appearances anyway; pretending to be younger would only invite misunderstandings about his connection to the Namgung Family. It was simpler to speak the truth.
“You look quite young yourself, Young Master. I never would have guessed you had already passed thirty.”
Paeng Ja-ryeong was thirty-one this year, having only recently crossed the threshold of thirty—the upper limit for the so-called late-stage geniuses. Namgung Woo’s earlier estimate had been exactly right. Yet his previous remark had not been entirely false; purely by appearance, Paeng Ja-ryeong looked no older than his mid-twenties.
“Haha, all of us martial artists tend to look young. That’s why even the common people strive to cultivate, hoping to enjoy the same benefit.”
Common people cultivating martial arts. The statement piqued Namgung Woo’s curiosity. The usual principle was non-transmission to the unworthy. Here “unworthy” did not mean non-human, but those lacking proper qualification.
Even in Taoist and Buddhist sects, their arts were passed down only internally. Any leakage became a major incident. The distinction between main disciples and branch disciples, along with the differing levels of arts taught, existed for precisely this reason.
Does the candidate possess the aptitude? Will they work for the organization if taught? Is there sufficient benefit in accepting them? Such questions were almost never skipped.
In that environment, ordinary commoners with neither connections nor wealth would find proper martial arts as unattainable as a painting of a rice cake.
“Do commoners truly learn a great deal of martial arts?”
“Of course. Among the populace, it is rarer to find someone who has never encountered even the Three Talents Mind Method. Techniques as basic as third-rate breathing exercises are known to virtually every commoner.”
“…I see. The dissemination of martial arts has progressed further than I realized.”
“It is a chaotic age.”
That single sentence carried the weight of a thousand explanations. In a world where superhuman martial artists existed openly, where Ghost Gates could spew monsters without warning, ordinary people had no choice but to seek their own protection. The state and its armies tried to restrain martial artists and mitigate the damage from the Gates, yet even they could not guard an entire continent.
“Many also cultivate for health. Even noble families have long treated martial arts as basic education.”
It was an era sorely lacking in medical knowledge. When a method existed that could maximize the body’s natural healing power and allow one to overcome most illnesses and injuries, refusing to learn it would be foolish. It was a literal panacea, a shortcut to the five blessings. Why would anyone decline?
The medical system is inadequate, and even that is reserved for the upper classes. No wonder everyone flocks to martial arts.
In truth, the current Murim wielded greater power than at any time in history. The imperial family, despite its immense authority, refrained from touching the martial world not only because the sects acted as a de facto vigilante force against the Ghost Gates, but because the Murim had grown too vast for the throne to control.
While the orthodox factions obediently followed imperial policy, the unorthodox factions committed illegal acts without hesitation and flourished openly for exactly that reason.
“Benefactor, was there a particular circumstance that led you to martial arts?”
Paeng Ja-ryeong’s question sounded casual, but it was a careful probe into Namgung Woo’s background.
Namgung Woo began to answer when Paeng Ha-ryeong, who had remained silent, suddenly spoke.
“Eungong, we’ve arrived. That is our Paeng Family residence. You can see it, can’t you?”
“Oh… Its scale is no joke.”
It looked as though an entire small village belonged to the Paeng Family.
While Namgung Woo subtly activated his Changnyeongmanan to examine the grounds, a silent battle of glares erupted between the Paeng siblings beside him.
[Why?]
[Are you going to keep trying to pry like that?]
[Ha-ryeong, this older brother is simply doing his duty as young master of the Paeng Family.]
[No.]
[I’ll restrain myself a little.]
[I’ll explain everything later, so stop.]
Paeng Ja-ryeong shrugged at the icy glare his younger sister sent him.
Ugh. Our Ha-ryeong isn’t usually like this… Is there really something I’ve missed? Is he some member of the imperial family or what?
Grumbling inwardly about his sister who seemed to place Namgung Woo above even the Paeng Family, Paeng Ja-ryeong stepped forward. The family warriors at the gate recognized him at once and opened the doors.
As the great gates concealing the residence swung wide, a group of people came into view. They had clearly been waiting. At the center stood a graceful, middle-aged beauty. A young girl clung to her side. Behind them stood a formation of martial artists.
It was more than sufficient as a welcoming party for their benefactor.
Namgung Woo recognized the beauty instantly. She bore a clear resemblance to both Paeng Ha-ryeong and Paeng Ja-ryeong. With even the young master present, only one person would be waiting at the main house.
“Welcome. I am Moyong Hye, matriarch of the Paeng Family. We have been eagerly hoping you would visit us.”
Moyong Hye looked directly at Namgung Woo, who stood beside her daughter.
Namgung Woo returned a polite salute, bowing his head.
“I am Nam Woo. I am the one who should thank you for such a warm reception.”
Having once held a corporate job in his previous life, Namgung Woo understood the proper etiquette for important occasions. Both he and Moyong Hye behaved as mature adults following social norms.
Yet someone present paid no heed to those boundaries.
With light, pitter-patter steps, a young girl approached Namgung Woo. Paeng Ye-ryeong tilted her body sideways and looked up at his face from below. He had not yet finished his bow.
Her action of peering at him through the circle formed by his joined hands was so bold that no one dared interrupt. While everyone stood frozen in astonishment, Paeng Ye-ryeong began circling him like a lark.
“Hmmm? Hmm? Mmm…”
She kept tilting her head, spinning round and round, examining him with meticulous care. Namgung Woo blinked, quietly observing her strange behavior.
After completing one full circle, Paeng Ye-ryeong stood before him again. Clutching her head as though facing an unsolvable riddle, she let out a small groan. Then, meeting his eyes, she spoke bluntly.
“Why are you alive?”