Gale and Tempest (5)
In the front yard of Unjeong Pavilion, where clouds lingered low, children knelt with heads bowed. It was the aftermath of the brawl at the academy.
These kids had come from their clans trained in martial arts, but none could match Jin Yeo-rip. He wielded the orthodox spear arts of the Ak family, a true martial lineage, bolstered by the pure inner energy from the Xiaohuan Dan he'd acquired like a stroke of heavenly fortune. On top of that, the ferocity of the Reverse Heaven Method left no room for hesitation in his fists.
Well, they'd already fought once at dawn, so exhaustion played a part—enough that they couldn't dodge his punches, leaving bruises all over.
"Ow!"
"Hold still!"
Jin Yeo-rip winced at the sting from his wounds, prompting So Hye, who was applying medicine, to shoot him a sharp glare.
"If you can't handle this, how'd you fight guys with swords? You really have no sense at all. What if... aish! You're impossible!"
She nagged endlessly, and each time, Im Pilsaeng, standing off to the side, flinched. He'd already gotten an earful earlier. Jin Yeo-rip had come back covered in mud from his injuries, so naturally, the blame fell on the bodyguard.
What sin did he commit? But So Hye was like that.
Truth be told, if you thought about it...
Jin Yeo-rip glanced at the children kneeling in the yard. They were the ones who actually needed treatment. Han Iggeom was the only one unscathed. Gong Cheon-gi, who'd challenged him first, was still unconscious, and the rest had broken limbs. Their hair was disheveled, faces scratched up, and they were soaked to the bone in the pouring rain.
"Ahem! So Hye, that's enough. Step back."
At Jin Yeo-rip's cough and words, So Hye scowled but picked up her medicine box and stood.
"Fine."
Of course, she didn't forget to glare fiercely at Im Pilsaeng and the kneeling academy kids.
The children knelt in the rain. Jin Yeo-rip sat under the eaves, looking down at them.
And it wasn't just them. Baekhak and everyone from Manhak Academy had followed, crowding against the walls of Unjeong Pavilion. Neighbors from the area gathered too, watching the inner yard.
The rain didn't matter. They were curious how the massive whirlpool of the assassination attempt on Cheongeumbang's young master would unfold.
"Yuk U-seon."
In the tense silence, Jin Yeo-rip called out to the boy at the end. The gaze he fixed on Yuk U-seon wasn't that of a mere youth—it was the piercing stare of Cheongeumbang's heir.
"Tell me now. What did you say to Han Iggeom?"
"I didn't say anything."
Yuk U-seon shook his head, trembling from fear and cold. Any teenage rebellion was long gone.
"Really? Nothing at all?"
"...Pardon?"
"Iggeom said someone told him if that person killed the young master, they'd be best friends. Was that you?"
"I-I never said that..."
Yuk U-seon trailed off, lost in thought. Did I? That must've been it. But whether he did or not didn't matter. They wouldn't remember anyway. The key was making Han Iggeom act.
"So you're admitting it?"
"But that was! I was just saying it. I never thought Han Iggeom would actually hire a killer."
"Just saying it?"
"..."
"You don't know how scary words can be."
"Pardon?"
Yuk U-seon looked up in startled alarm.
"Pilsaeng."
"Yes, Young Master!"
"Cut off Yuk U-seon's head."
"Yes!"
The dry, simple order brooked no question. Im Pilsaeng drew his sword and approached. Yuk U-seon's face drained white.
"Y-Young Master! Spare me!"
As the fierce aura hit him, Yuk U-seon slammed his forehead into the mud, begging. Jin Yeo-rip raised a hand, halting Im Pilsaeng.
"See? That's how scary words are."
"..."
"Why'd you think I'd have him killed?"
"Pardon?"
"I was just saying it."
"Th-that's... what do you mean?"
"Same as you."
"How is it the same? He's your subordinate!"
"Didn't you treat Han Iggeom like a subordinate? Or was he your friend?"
"..."
"Can't answer, huh."
"He wasn't a friend, but he wasn't someone who had to obey like that guy. Han Iggeom acted alone in trying to kill you!"
"So you never talked about my death? Geez, should I make you confess from the start again?"
As Jin Yeo-rip clenched his fist, Yuk U-seon cried out desperately.
"I did! I said it would be great if the young master died. But I really didn't think it'd actually happen!"
"Hmm, really? What about the rest of you?"
Jin Yeo-rip eyed the boys beside him.
"Did you say you wanted me dead too?"
"W-We..."
"Speak up. You say it was just words, and Iggeom acted on his own."
"We just said it."
"What exactly?"
"Well... that it would be good if someone killed the young master..."
"Iggeom said one of you introduced him to that thug Gwak Chu over there?"
"We didn't introduce him!"
One boy shouted in protest at Jin Yeo-rip's question. It was Mak So-pyeong, son of the alley shop owner.
"I just mentioned the place exists. I didn't think Han Iggeom would actually go!"
"Really? So you're innocent too?"
"Yes. It was just something I said."
The kids chorused that it was "just words," as if rehearsed. Jin Yeo-rip wore an enigmatic smile.
Idiots. You don't know the power those "just words" hold.
Coerced testimony wouldn't hold as evidence, but this wasn't a world that respected human rights.
Then, commotion stirred outside Unjeong Pavilion. Carriages arrived one after another, doors slamming open. Cheongeumbang's elders strode in, ignoring rain and mud—they'd heard late and rushed over after Jin Yeo-rip's swift action.
"Make way!"
Gong Yasin bellowed, clearing the front instantly. Spotting his unconscious son Gong Cheon-gi among the kneeling kids, he scowled but first approached Jin Yeo-rip, casually seated under the eaves.
Impressive composure. His own son bore the worst injuries, yet his face remained utterly calm.
"Grand Elder Gong Yasin greets the Young Master."
"Oh, come in. Sorry, Grand Elder—no room under here to escape the rain."
Jin Yeo-rip stood and greeted but refused to let him join under the eaves, despite the space.
"What's a little rain? Since space is tight, I won't take it as neglect."
"Appreciate that."
"But I'd like an explanation for this commotion."
Gong Yasin's words carried weight, the following elders flanking him to add pressure. But Jin Yeo-rip tilted his head leisurely.
"Commotion?"
"If this isn't, what is?"
"Hmm. Calling it that feels a bit hurtful."
Jin Yeo-rip squinted one eye.
"Did you not hear the story?"
"I heard Han Ga's son did something unforgivable. Rightly, strip him of everything, punish all involved a hundredfold."
"Glad you think so."
Jin Yeo-rip nodded, prompting Gong Yasin to continue.
"But why these other kids? I heard Han Ga's son acted alone to befriend our children."
"That's what they say."
Jin Yeo-rip nodded readily.
"So it's a commotion. If you suspected our kids' involvement in Han Iggeom's actions..."
"Not suspicion—certainty."
"Pardon?"
"They were involved."
"What do you mean?"
"Words exactly."
Jin Yeo-rip smiled. Gong Yasin narrowed his eyes.
"Can you take responsibility for that?"
"What responsibility?"
"Will you give up the succession?"
Such a sharp thrust of a gaze would fluster anyone normally... but had he not anticipated even this?
"Succession, huh."
"Not even small words can be lies. If you're toying with us, you must step down."
"Fine. But..."
Jin Yeo-rip's eyes shifted, trailing off.
"Can you take responsibility, Grand Elder?"
"What?"
"If your son was involved in the attack on me, what then?"
Gong Yasin hesitated at Jin Yeo-rip's cold smile. The confidence unnerved him. Everyone else wondered—elders, onlookers alike. Only Baekhak seemed to grasp it.
Truthfully, even he had been puzzled. Why blow it up like this? The assault was commissioned by Han Iggeom; others just egged him on—no solid crime there. Deny it, and it'd stick.
Once known, elders and Lady Yi would cover it up first, guilt or not.
But Jin Yeo-rip stormed the academy immediately, beating them to it, rounding up the elders' kids before interference. Overreach, potentially backfiring later—hurting and detaining those without clear guilt.
Yet this interrogation. Treating wounds while waiting for crowds showed leisure, buying time for confessions. Making kids repeat their words.
"Just words." Sure. But clear admissions of guilt.
Wish the young master dead. Hope someone kills him. There's a place that kills for money. That level.
Dismissible as jealous kids' talk, but given status and Cheongeumbang's situation, problematic. Unacted, it'd pass; acted, guilt depends on framing.
Jin Yeo-rip was clearly steering it toward conspiracy to murder him.
"Ha, that kid. He was waiting for this. Knew the elders would rush over."
Baekhak chuckled dryly. Where'd he learn such cunning? A fierce tiger at the academy, now a sly fox.
"Elders'll get a proper thrashing this time. Even the patriarch couldn't manage this..."
Harboring his own grudge against Lady Yi's elders, Baekhak smiled inwardly, watching.
Meanwhile, Jin Yeo-rip asked Gong Yasin softly, who still hadn't replied.
"Grand Elder."
"..."
"Can you take responsibility? If your son isn't innocent, will you step down like me?"