The Hyeokli Clan

Lady Un knew.

At the very least, her son Yi Won was better suited to the position of clan head than Yi Jeong, the eldest.

This wasn't a matter of blood running thicker than water. Judged as objectively as possible, the eldest was a man who would devour the clan whole and leave nothing but bones.

Financial sense? Practically nonexistent.

He had been born wanting for nothing, and everything he'd ever needed had come to him without a single ounce of effort. A child raised like that could never turn out normal.

When he wanted a woman, he simply went and took her. The story of how he'd impregnated five courtesans was so famous it hardly needed repeating — though in truth, it hadn't been five.

In reality, it was closer to ten.

And what became of those ten women? Aside from the five, every last one of them was dead. Lady Sang had quietly had them killed. The remaining five were, for all intents and purposes, Yi Jeong's playthings.

He visited them whenever boredom struck.

That was the kind of man he was.

And that man was to become clan head? Simply because he was the firstborn son?

Unthinkable.

"I have decided to join hands with Yi Do."

That was why Lady Un could only regard ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her son with pride as he spoke those words. However idle and worthless the eldest might be, a second son striving this hard to accomplish something was a far better sight to behold.

And indeed, Yi Won's judgment aligned almost perfectly with her own.

"Yi Do is a warrior with a brilliant future ahead of him. He doesn't even covet the position of clan head. The Yi Clan has plenty of money but not a single proper martial artist, does it not?"

True enough.

"That is precisely why, even with the Jang Clan standing behind Cheonhwaru, we failed to collect a single coin of that debt. What we need is not foundations or capital. What we need is a warrior."

"And in your eyes, does Yi Do truly show no desire for the seat of clan head?"

Yi Won nodded, his expression resolute.

"Yes."

"On what grounds do you judge so?"

"First, his greatest priority right now is not a position. It is elixirs. Put another way, raising his martial cultivation is what matters most to him. Second — and this follows directly from the first — if he were to become clan head, his time for training would dwindle. He only began learning the martial arts in earnest a short while ago, after all. Reaching the Zhuchen Realm in a mere two years is astonishing, but he is certainly lacking in fundamentals. Becoming clan head would leave him no time to shore those up."

"Is that all?"

"No. There is one more thing."

"Speak."

"Yi Do is decisive. And he never breaks his word. You know what position Jeomso-i of Cheonhwaru received simply for standing beside him."

"Of course I do. A mere tea girl raised to Vice Pavilion Master of Cheonhwaru in a single day."

"That is exactly the point. They say that just before burning Cheonhwaru to the ground, he smashed open Jeok Gae-san's warehouse and divided every treasure inside among his people. He is a man who keeps his promises. And he is, for all that it's only half, my own blood. If Yi Won and Yi Do join forces, we can surely drive out Lady Sang's merchant house and Yi Jeong both."

"...Truly remarkable."

Perhaps it was only because Yi Won kept being held up against Yi Jeong, but Lady Un found herself almost overwhelmed with pride. To think he had grown into such a fine young man. To think he could conceive of plans this bold.

The details surrounding Cheonhwaru had clearly been something Yi Won had investigated on his own initiative. How endearing.

"Good. And is there anything you need your mother to do?"

"Yes. Several things."

Yi Do had made several 'requests.' They had been orders, in truth, but Yi Won had simply chosen to hear them as requests.

"First, please keep a close watch on the movements of the Jang Clan and the Hyeokli Clan of the Three Great Clans of Jangryeong."

"...Those two powers?"

"Yes. Our Yi Clan is in turmoil at the moment. In times like these, anything can happen — and it would surprise no one."

Lady Un was genuinely impressed. Her son had grown beyond mere promise into a proper young man. Where had he learned to think like this?

It was only natural, of course, to prepare one's rear when preparing any endeavor. If one identified the most likely candidates to stab you in the back and could read their every movement, then whatever you set out to do was guaranteed to succeed.

Of course, every word Yi Won was speaking now had come straight from Yi Do's own mouth.

It would not be an exaggeration to say the boy had been handed a script. He was simply reciting it verbatim — but Lady Un had no way of knowing that.

"Very well. I will commit the full strength of the Un household to tracking their movements if I must."

"Ah, and one more thing."

"What now?"

"I wish to draw up a list of those who support Yi Won and Yi Do, and those who support Yi Jeong."

"Hmm..."

"Father has yet to formally name the young clan head. If he confirms Yi Jeong in that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠seat..."

"...Are you saying you would raise a rebellion?"

That, too, had been part of his conversation with Yi Do. Yi Do had told him: if there is something you want, seize it by any means necessary. If need be, raise a rebellion.

"It is merely a contingency. After all, is it not possible Father might yet choose me as young clan head?"

Still, the cynicism ran deep. It had been more than fifteen years since the proposal to fill the vacant seat of young clan head was first brought to the clan head himself. Like an annual ritual, the same words had gone out year after year, and the same answer had come back.

'I am still considering it.'

Every time he heard it, the urge to lace the man's food with poison would smolder up from somewhere deep inside — and every time, Yi Won had swallowed it down. Yi Jeong was twenty-four this year; Yi Won was twenty-two. This was the age when patience ran dry.

Lady Un, too, had no choice but to steel her heart.

"...Then prepare it."

"Thank you, Mother."

I stopped walking and looked up.

That was what the plaque above the building read. I pushed through the welcome gate at the entrance and stepped inside.

"We're not open for business ye—"

The familiar-looking young man sweeping the floor froze mid-sentence. A smile bloomed across his face.

"Pavilion Master!"

It was Jo Hyeon. He came hurrying toward me, tossing his broom aside without a second thought.

"Please, just kill me instead. Put me out of my misery."

I couldn't help but chuckle. Even a cursory glance showed the boy was covered head to toe in bruises.

It wasn't that someone had beaten him. I could tell at a glance. Every one of those bruises sat precisely where a blood vessel ran.

Someone had been opening his meridians for him. And who that someone was required no guesswork at all.

"Look, I really wasn't planning on doing any of that warrior stuff. And besides..."

Glancing around furtively, he lowered his voice and finished.

"An assassin? Pavilion Master, I couldn't kill so much as an ant, let alone a person."

I rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Jo Hyeon."

"...Yes, Pavilion Master."

"What do you think this world of martial artists is?"

"...Just... a place where people live?"

It was so absurd that I laughed in earnest for the first time in a while.

"Right. It is a place where people live. But it is also a world where, wherever you go, those without strength get devoured."

"..."

"Whether or not you ever intend to kill anyone, if you live as an ordinary tea girl, you will be swept along by the currents your whole life, never once able to strike back. But if you have strength — even just enough to protect your own body — the number of choices before you grows."

At my serious tone, the sulky expression on Jo Hyeon's face turned serious in kind.

"Use this opportunity — not for anyone else, but for yourself. A chance to catch the eye of a master like that and be ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠taken in as his disciple does not come around often. Trust me. Everything you gain from him will one day be a tremendous help to you."

"...Pavilion Master..."

To the boy, who looked faintly moved, I tossed out the words offhandedly.

"And fix your form of address from now on. I'm no pavilion master."

"Then what should I call you?"

I didn't need to think about it.

"Call me my lord."

Leaving the beaming Jo Hyeon at my side, I made my way deeper into the inn. At the entrance to the kitchen, a man leaned against the wall, watching me.

The Thousand-Faced Assassin, Hwang No-baek.

He asked, "Empty-handed, I see."

I nodded.

"Honestly... the doors open for the first time today, and thanks to you I've gone from mere cook to innkeeper. I'll consider it a gift."

"Suit yourself."

A question crept into Hwang No-baek's expression.

"So why have you come? The Yi Clan has been in an uproar, you know. Something about their treasures burning to ash... young master."

"Say it."

"Are you a young master, then?"

"What is it you're wondering?"

"Two of the Sang Cloud Merchant Group's warehouses burned to nothing. There's no one but you who'd pull a stunt like that... and yet the questions keep piling up."

"What questions?"

"Who are you, exactly? I don't think you're a master of Reversed-Flow Return — some manner of spatial step, an art of the void... How in the world did you escape that fire?"

Hwang No-baek was a cook and an innkeeper, yes — but his true trade was assassination. As an assassin, it seemed the question had genuinely been gnawing at him.

"A secret."

"...You are a genuinely difficult man."

"I'm not an easy man, no. More importantly, this inn is quite large. Didn't you say you'd brought a few of the courtesans over from Cheonhwaru?"

"I did."

"Where are they, all of them?"

My gaze had sunk a little. Hwang No-baek seemed to find the situation genuinely strange.

"Don't tell me you suspect I stole their money, murdered them, and buried the lot of them somewhere..."

"I asked a question. Don't extrapolate."

"That hardly feels like extrapolation. I honestly don't know what you take me for — but if you truly must know, go look in the food storeroom over there. They'll be peeling onions."

I walked to the kitchen without a word. Hwang No-baek, heaving a sigh, followed. I navigated the familiar space and opened the door to the storeroom in the corner.

Seven women sat crouched inside, peeling onions.

"There you have it. And yet you doubt people."

Closing the storeroom door, I spoke flatly.

"It's a world of martial artists — all manner of strange things happen. An old man's caution. That's all it was."

Hwang No-baek studied me for a long moment, then asked, "You seem to be a man who treasures his own people fiercely."

I didn't bother answering.

"Have no fear. Whether I lived as an assassin or chose to stop, I have never once strayed from what a human being owes to other human beings."

"Good. That's enough. But tell me — are you not running the pleasure house?"

"If I intended to run one, I'd have brought every last courtesan in Cheonhwaru. The ones I brought here are women who had grown sick of living as courtesans. I intend to train every one of them as cooks."

"And you?"

"I'll live comfortably, cooking."

"Good to hear. Now — I asked why you came, didn't I."

"I did."

"I came to see how Jo Hyeon was doing. And he seems well."

"So you were about to leave?"

"I was."

Hwang No-baek let out an awkward laugh.

"Well, since you're here anyway, stay for a meal. Do you like Dongpo pork?"

"I don't dislike it."

"Then wait just a moment, if you would."

At those words, Hwang No-baek suddenly froze in place.

So did I.

We stepped out of the kitchen at the same instant.

And we saw them. Three men.

And beneath those men, clutching his head, sat Jo Hyeon on the floor.

My expression didn't change, but the crease between Hwang No-baek's brows deepened sharply.

What was happening here. Why Jo Hyeon was like that.

It was all too obvious.

"Heh heh, innkeeper, so that's where you were. By the way — you still haven't decided?"

The Hwang No-baek who had been scowling a moment ago was gone. In his place stood only Hwang Jang-su the cook, wearing a spineless, fawning expression.

"Ah, honored warriors, I did say I would need a little more time to think it over."

The warrior on the far left took charge, his voice booming.

"Come, come. When the great Hyeokli Clan offers to stand behind you, is there truly room for deliberation? The usual monthly tribute is seventy nyang of silver, but our young clan head has taken a liking to this inn's name, so you will pay only thirty a month. Accept now, and be done with it."

Running one of the great martial clans took enormous sums of money. It was no accident that the Yi Clan operated a merchant house. This was simply the way of things — a family that ruled a region would extend its protection to inns and establishments in the town, and collect a monthly tribute in return.

"As I understand it, this establishment was previously an inn called the Flow of Time, and our Hyeokli Clan stood behind that one as well. Changing the name does not change the location of the building. Accept at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠once and bring this month's tribute."

No one could raise a building in a single day. They had clearly bought out the existing inn and reopened it under a new name.

I watched them in silence, then spoke, tossing the words out carelessly.

"The Hyeokli Clan, you say?"

The three men turned toward me. At the same instant, three brows furrowed.

"...And who might you be, young master? I don't believe we've met."

"Yi Do."

"Yi Do...? Yi Do, you say..."

The man who had been murmuring to himself suddenly went wide-eyed.

"The one who burned Cheonhwaru... the Third Young Master of the Yi Clan?"

"You know me well. From today forward, this Golden Inn is under my protection."

"...That is news to me. Are you certain of it?"

A soft smile touched my lips.

"And if I'm not, what will you do about it?"

The three men exchanged glances, as if sensing something had gone terribly wrong, then turned to go. They clearly intended to report to the Hyeokli Clan first and wait for further orders. Resentment was written plainly on their faces — which struck me as a little odd.

"Who said you could leave?"

All three heads turned at once.

And there, before them,

I was standing.

"Wh... when did you get all the way over..."

I reached out, seized the throat of the man on the far left, and slammed him into the wall.

"Khhak... why... why are you doing this..."

"Didn't I say? This Golden Inn is under my protection."

I turned my head and looked at Jo Hyeon, still clutching his head on the floor.

"Explain it to them kindly. To lay a hand on a tea girl in a place under my protection is to lay a hand on me."

Slowly, I tightened my grip.

Crack!

His neck snapped. I flung the body to the floor, then drove my heel down onto his heart with all my strength.

Crunch!

The sound of the heart bursting echoed through the hall.

I turned my head. Startled by the sudden violence, one of the warriors stumbled backward.

"He was nothing but a mere tea girl! Compose yourself!"

"He was not a mere tea girl."

"...What?"

"He is my man. That is what my protection means."

"...That... that is..."

Whether they had tracked my movement or failed to, it didn't matter in the slightest. I swung my fist. The man in the center tried to dodge — it meant nothing.

The blow landed square on his face.

KRAAAKAAM—!!

He flew out through the welcome gate, splintering it to pieces on his way. He did not get back up. And that was right. What kind of man stands up after his head has burst? A jiangshi, that's what.

I turned my head.

The last one collapsed to the floor where he stood. I looked down at him and asked.

"Your name."

"...Chwi... Chwi Sam."

"Your affiliation?"

"...A common soldier of the Gale Squad of the Hyeokli Clan."

Chwi Sam, warrior of the Hyeokli Clan, swallowed hard.

"My name is Yi Do. You will go to the Hyeokli Clan this instant and confess, word for word, everything that happened here. Do you understand?"

"...Yes... I will. I swear it."

I shook my head slowly.

A warning is not given with words alone.

I swept my foot out. The point of my strike was Chwi Sam's dantian.

Crush!

"Ghh... gkkhaa..."

Seizing him by the hair, I hurled him out the door.

"Go."

Staggering to his feet with a pained wheeze, Chwi Sam began to run, not daring to look back even once.

I turned my head.

There was Hwang No-baek, hand pressed to his forehead.

"...I'm losing my mind. Young master, I understand perfectly well that you have some grand design, but why here, of all places... haa..."

I ignored him.

I walked straight to Jo Hyeon.

Being in the kitchen, I hadn't been able to see it clearly before, but he had apparently taken a proper blow to the head. Blood was trickling down in rivulets. It ran from his mouth as well. One strike to the head, one to the cheek.

Frankly, the boy had such a pathetically pitiful face that somehow, it made him look even more hurt than he was.

"Are you all right?"

Jo Hyeon, looking close to tears, nodded.

"Good."