Chapter 27: Who Am I?
Chapter 27: Who Am I?
"Young Master, we’ve arrived."
"Ah, thank you. Good work."
The carriage came to a halt before the massive gatehouse of the Peng Family manor.
I tucked away the secret manual I had been reading and stepped out. The coachman hurriedly followed, reaching for my luggage.
"I’ve got this. Oh, wait. Open the crate for a moment. Can I take 'that'?"
"Pardon...? B-but this is..."
"It’s fine. I’m just entering my own home."
At my calm words, the coachman hesitantly unpacked the crate. He pulled out one of the items inside and handed it to me with his eyes squeezed shut.
I took 'it' and pondered for a moment. Hmm, it lacked a bit of impact.
"Aha."
A good idea struck me.
I pulled out the dagger I had received from the Hao Clan Leader and carved a character onto 'it.' Since I only needed one character, there was plenty of space.
—Peng (彭).
I roughly wiped away the half-dried, sticky blood and gripped 'it' in one hand.
For the record, I had come straight from a life-and-death duel, so my entire body was caked in dried blood. To an onlooker, I probably looked like a ten-year-old kid who had been hit by a truck and walked into the ER by himself. I needed exactly this kind of impact, so it was fine.
I turned back to the coachman.
"Now, you take 'that' and follow me."
"Y-yes, Young Master..."
The coachman, face pale as a ghost, averted his eyes and followed.
I turned and headed toward the main gate of my home. The warriors of the Outer Hall guarding the gatehouse stared at me with expressions of pure horror.
"Open the gate."
"Y-Young Master... Your wounds...!"
"Open the gate."
"Yes, Young Master!"
The warriors scrambled out of the way.
Their gazes followed my every step. The eyes of the Outer Hall warriors, the retainers, and the servants converged on me, their numbers growing as I walked.
I kept moving.
Halfway there, Nang-rang came running with a face full of panic, but fortunately, I saw Peng Jeon-gun holding her back. It seemed he understood what I was trying to do.
Holding a half-broken blade, wearing tattered robes, and covered from head to toe in dried blood.
I crossed the threshold of the Sanwang Pavilion in the Inner Hall and stepped inside.
Before my respected father, the elders, and my brothers—who had rushed over after hearing rumors of my return—I dropped what I had been carrying.
Thud.
The heavy object rolled across the floor and stopped right in front of my father.
"I have collected the blood debt."
Carved into the severed head of Seong Won-ho was our family name. Just as he had stamped the seal of the White Lotus Cult onto the foreheads of our warriors after killing them.
Behind me, the pale coachman, trembling violently, managed to walk forward and carefully set down the rest of Won-ho's torso on the floor.
"The Hao Clan Leader personally performed the autopsy. This boy was the root of the incident."
"He looks to be fifteen at most."
"Yes, Father. Seong Won-ho, the second son of the Assassination Pavilion Master. He struck us from behind in league with the White Lotus Cult and the Imperial Court. He was in charge of the Beijing branch, and by using a secret medicine from the Five Poisons Sect to trigger his latent potential, he was able to manifest the power of a Peak Realm master in an instant."
"......What?"
Silence descended upon the pavilion.
The White Lotus Cult joined hands with the Imperial Court? And they teamed up with the Assassination Pavilion? But the Assassination Pavilion belongs to our Dragon Slaying Alliance. There’s a drug that can mass-produce Peak Realm masters? Where does the Five Poisons Sect fit into this? And what’s this about the Hao Clan Leader?
Countless question marks floated above the elders' heads.
Ah, don't you know? This is what you call a three-line summary.
With that thought, I walked up to my father.
I knelt on one knee to show respect, unfastened my waist, and presented my half-broken saber. The Peng Family Saber—the standard blade issued to our warriors—was covered in cracks and nicks, looking as though it might shatter at any moment.
As I offered it up respectfully, I thought to myself:
14. Who am I?
The boy who killed a (doped-up) Peak Realm master at age ten (+27).
Those games that give you a title for catching a bear at age ten were child's play. A bear? There’s no way a bear is stronger than a Peak Realm master. This clearly meant I was superior.
"Mmm..."
My father picked up the saber, which was on the verge of crumbling in my hands, and examined it with a grave expression. Only after a long silence did his gaze meet mine.
"Are you unhurt?"
"It is of no consequence."
"Even so, you must not be negligent in tending to your wounds. Go to the Medical Bureau as soon as we are finished here."
"Yes, Father."
"And... hmmm."
Father looked back and forth between Won-ho’s head rolling on the floor, the saber in his hand, and me.
Soon, the Young Family Head of the Hebei Peng Family broke into a deep smile.
"Splendid. You are already a true warrior of the Peng Family."
"Thank you, Father."
I felt a hand stroke my head.
I think it was the first time since I was five. To be fair, I had been a bit lacking back then, having not even started my martial arts training. But even so, I never felt my father’s affection was lacking.
Every major and minor affair of the Hebei Peng Family and the Dragon Slaying Alliance was handled by the Young Family Head; my father was one of the busiest men in the clan. Consequently, he only had time to teach me about once a month, but during those times, he always showed me warmth and dedicated guidance.
And I wasn't the type of kid to sulk over a lack of parental attention.
At that moment, a kid who was the type to sulk over a lack of attention screamed out.
"Lies! That’s a lie! What? The Hao Clan Leader? Medicine from the Five Poisons Sect? The Imperial Palace and the White Lotus Cult...? Where could such convenient excuses possibly come from! To cut off the head of some random teenager and present it while spinning such tall tales!!"
"Peng Hyeon-cheon, be silent."
"But, but Father!"
"You are being disrespectful."
My father’s gaze suddenly carried a heavy pressure.
This wasn't a metaphor. Just by glaring—even though it wasn't directed at me—I felt an immense weight.
Peng Hyeon-cheon, my brother three years my senior who was facing that gaze head-on, turned pale and collapsed to his knees, foaming at the mouth.
"Only a warrior of the Peng Family may speak in this place. Hyeon-cheon, you have yet to even prove your right to hold a saber. Do you dare to oppose my decision?"
"Fa...ther...! N-no, that’s not it...!"
"It is not difficult to verify if Hyeon-hwi’s words are true, and if they are false, he shall be punished accordingly. However, at this moment, when your brother has brought back the head of the culprit, we must not call it a lie. Do you know why? Speak. What is our family motto?"
"Follow... only... the family...!"
Peng Hyeon-cheon bowed his head deeply as he spoke.
Father, who had been glaring at him, stood up and scanned his other children.
A mistake can be corrected, and a deficiency can be taught. That was my father’s philosophy.
With eyes that had softened considerably, Father helped Peng Hyeon-cheon up and said, "If a kinsman returns from the brink of death for the sake of the family, we must respect him. That is the reason we have survived, and that is our law. My son, your brother fought with his life on the line, and the evidence is etched into this blade. One who speaks of doubt first when faced with such proof can never lead our kin."
This was likely my father’s lesson in leadership. Verify and validate thoroughly, but never attack the person while they are standing before you. If it is a lie, they can be punished later; but if it is the truth, you will have trampled upon the trust of your followers.
I wondered if my third brother understood that meaning. Or was he just pretending to agree out of fear?
Regardless, Peng Hyeon-cheon nodded and stepped back.
"Send this head to the Assassination Pavilion Master and hold a memorial service for the fallen kinsmen. Which unit did the deceased belong to?"
"They were members of the Outer Hall’s Tiger Wind Squad."
"Tiger Wind Squad Leader."
"Yes, Young Family Head."
"Have the sabers of the deceased been recovered?"
"Yes, Young Family Head."
"Melt their blades down with this one and forge them anew."
"Does... that mean...?"
Father handed my half-broken saber to the Tiger Wind Squad Leader and said, "Hyeon-hwi has become a true warrior. He is entitled to hold the Hegemonic Blade Ceremony."
"But... the Fourth Young Master has only just turned ten."
"Since when has age mattered in our traditions?"
"......Understood. I shall do as you command."
The Tiger Wind Squad Leader took the saber and stepped back.
The brief commotion came to an end.
I was practically dragged to the Medical Bureau by Nang-rang. Honestly, I just wanted to sleep.
"Who am I? The man who killed a Peak Realm master at age ten."
"Young Master, please."
"Who am I?"
"Shut him up, Nang-rang."
"How could I dare shut the Young Master's mouth? You do it, Elder."
"Do I really have to change a snot-nosed brat's diapers at my age?"
Peng Jeon-gun and Nang-rang sat outside my bathtub, watching me and sighing. I hummed to myself while soaking in the horrific specialty medicinal bath of the Peng Family.
"Who am I? The genius of the Dongsaeng-si exam. The best brain in Beijing. A man with a sexy brain."
"I’m going crazy. Did he suffer Qi Deviation?"
"Elder Peng Jeon-gun. Can I choose my own title?"
"You’re really trying to drag our family name through the mud, aren't you?"
"How about 'Master of Both Pen and Sword, Peng Hyeon-hwi'?"
"Nang-rang, go get Physician Jang. His energy must be twisted so badly it’s rotting his bone marrow."
I chuckled as I looked at Nang-rang and Peng Jeon-gun. Even though my whole body was stinging from the medicinal bath, I couldn't stop smiling.
Peng Jeon-gun let out a deep sigh at my behavior, plopped down beside me, and said, "You brat. Are you done with the jokes?"
"Want more?"
"The Inner Court of the Peng Family is a fine place for some intense sparring. It seems you’re itching for it."
Peng Jeon-gun grumbled for a while longer before asking, "You know what the Hegemonic Blade Ceremony entails, right? You’ll have to decide on your placement now. Do you have a place in mind?"
"Hmm... do you have a recommendation, Elder?"
"If you ask the elders of the Sanwang Pavilion, they’ll definitely want to send you to the Library or the Hall of Ten Thousand Blessings. A direct descendant with your brains is rare; they’d be remiss not to use you."
"Hmm."
"Exactly, you brat. If you go there, you’ll never be able to aim for a higher position than you have now."
In the government, there are what you call 'fast-track' positions. It’s a kind of 'line.' For example, in the Beijing administration, the typical path is passing the civil service exam, going through the Hanlin Academy, hitting the Guozijian, and then entering the Cabinet.
Anything else—the Six Ministries are okay—but being assigned to 'miscellaneous' posts like the Court of Judicial Review, the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, or the Imperial Medical Bureau means your career is essentially over. They are dead-end jobs with clear limits on promotion.
Similarly, there are fast-track positions within the Peng Family.
Units in the Outer Hall where you can directly build external achievements. Or, Inner Hall departments that directly handle the affairs of the Dragon Slaying Alliance.
The second brother has been rooted in the Outer Hall for years, and the first brother is already practically managing the Dragon Slaying Alliance. If we were talking about a Korean chaebol family, it’s like the brothers have already taken the top spots in the finance and electronics groups.
So, what’s left are the dead-end jobs tucked away in the corners of the Inner Hall. If a direct descendant takes one, they can eventually make it into the Council of Elders after a few decades, but the family elders would never recognize their achievements.
"I plan to go to the Sanwol Hall."
"......What...?"
Peng Jeon-gun looked at me with a rare expression of bewilderment. He fell into deep thought for a long time before suddenly asking, "Weren't you preparing for the succession battle?"
"Well, I haven't given up on it."
"And you know that the warriors of the Sanwol Hall are never accepted by the rest of the family?"
"It’s a different feeling from the Hall of Ten Thousand Blessings or the Library not being accepted."
"True. Those places are criticized for being weak. If you go to the Sanwol Hall, you’ll be shunned."
"Haha, Elder."
I laughed, splashing the bathwater.
"Doesn't 'awe' begin with 'fear'? I think I should buy some fear first."
"It will be hard to survive."
"That will be my luck. Why would a warrior of the Peng Family fight just to survive?"
"Always so smooth-tongued...! Fine! I’m the fool for worrying!"
"So you were worried about me. I’m touched. Moved. Shocked."
"Aaaargh!!"
Peng Jeon-gun threw a punch at me. I casually blocked it with my left hand and chuckled.
I thought about the Sanwol Hall.
The Sanwol Hall was a group created by the third-generation patriarch after he founded the Dragon Slaying Alliance. It was a martial unit with a history and tradition spanning at least 150 years.
While officially part of the Inner Hall, their pavilion was pushed to the very edge of the Outer Hall’s territory. The reason was simple.
The Sanwol Hall was created to monitor the Hebei Peng Family and the Dragon Slaying Alliance.
It was a group that could bypass the Young Family Head, who managed all family affairs, and report directly to the Family Head. When the Peng Family’s martial units or the Dragon Slaying Alliance violated family laws, they were the ones who moved out to collect the blood debt from their own kin.
It was easiest to think of them as something like the Royal Secret Inspectors.
Naturally, people can never like an oversight body that monitors them. Consequently, the Sanwol Hall was kept at arm's length by every organization in both the Inner and Outer Halls, and they were restricted from interfering in the family's general affairs.
Since they held such immense power, the restriction was meant to prevent them from interfering in family politics. I suppose it was only natural, considering they wouldn't be held accountable even if they killed an elder-level kinsman.
Thus, the warriors of the Sanwol Hall were chosen solely for their loyalty, and they could expect no rewards or recognition afterward. They were even frequently killed during operations. Since they moved in secret from all other Peng Family organizations, there was no way to avenge them if they died in the field.
Apparently, it wasn't uncommon for them to be killed by the hands of their own kin using this loophole.
Hearing this, one might think, What kind of dysfunctional family is this? but you have to remember that this is the Black Path. These people believe that as long as it’s 'for the sake of the family,' whatever they do isn't a crime.
And I plan to volunteer for such a place.
—How about doing this?
Hearing the Hao Clan Leader’s words, it made sense.
—The Black Forest July Society spans the entire Central Plains, and our Hao Clan, in particular, monitors everyone, regardless of whether they are Righteous or Demonic. This means—
"Don't you think it suits my aptitude?"
—It means I can tell you everything that happens within the Dragon Slaying Alliance’s territory.
"Devoting myself to the family without expecting reward, only service."
—Why are you trying to help me this much?
—If you become my disciple, wouldn't you consider this a debt and show your loyalty to me?
—Is that all?
—Or, if you truly push aside your brothers and become the Family Head, you won't forget the grace shown during that process. It is enough for me if you remember that the Hao Clan helped you.
The Hebei Peng Family never forgets a grudge.
And that means they also repay kindness just as thoroughly.
*
"Ugh, Jaho Pavilion!! I missed you so much...!!"
"Oh, by the way, Young Master. Quite a few letters have piled up."
"Letters?"
"Yes, from Lady Hwa-yeong..."
Nang-rang said as she handed me a bundle of letters.
I flipped through the letters, which were written in slightly crooked but very neat sentences. Over the paper faintly scented with irises, I could almost hear Hwa-yeong’s voice.
The beauty of the night sky seen from the cliffs of Mount Tianshan. Her worry for me as the weather grew colder. Sentences cheering for my exams. Even words that seemed to brag about her small achievements.
And then.
"......?"
As I flipped through the letters, something felt subtly different.
Was it the tone, or perhaps the writing habits? In areas other than the handwriting, the habits of constructing sentences were changing bit by bit.
Minor grammatical features or expressions were shifting little by little.
Then, at one point, there was a very short sentence.
A letter written in a very blunt tone.
[Why is there no reply?]
"Eh...?"
After that, the next letter returned to her usual self, continuing with worries about my health and chatter about her recent hobbies. It seemed she had started learning hunting and cooking.
"What is this...?"
I felt a bit uneasy as I tucked the letters away.
I should probably write a reply.
Not because I’m scared, but because I’ve been busy lately. Just to let her know.