Chapter 30: Sanwol Hall (1)
Chapter 30: Sanwol Hall (1)
I strode forward, snapping open the new martial robes I’d been measured for last night.
They say new shoes make you feel like your head is touching the sky, but did you know that receiving new martial robes means you can send someone else’s head flying into the clouds?
This is medieval China for you.
With a dignified gait, I headed past the Inner Hall, through the martial units of the Outer Hall, and all the way to the outer wall of the manor…
"Wait a minute. Is this the right way?"
"It is."
"I don't remember seeing any pavilions or halls around here."
"Of course you wouldn't have."
"…Excuse me?"
Peng Jeon-gun replied nonchalantly as he walked.
The territory of the Hebei Peng Family isn't called the Peng Family Manor; it’s called the Peng Family District.
The 'District' here uses the same Hanja as the administrative districts in modern Korea. In other words, the scale of the manor is equivalent to an entire administrative district.
We passed through all the well-situated, sunny spots of that impossibly vast area, past the sectors lined with grand pavilions, and reached the very edge.
There, an eerie two-story pavilion appeared before my eyes—dilapidated, covered in dust and cobwebs, looking as if it hadn't been maintained in years.
"We're here."
"This place… is it? The place where I’ll begin my teens…?"
I muttered to myself as I looked up at the plaque.
On the slightly crooked plaque, the words 'Sanwol Hall' were written in an elegant, sweeping script.
"But… can I ask why a place like this has 'Hall' in its name…?"
In medieval China, the scale of buildings is usually categorized into Jeon (Hall/Palace), Dang (Hall), Gak (Pavilion), Won (Courtyard), and Gwan (House/Lodge).
For instance, the largest building under the Inner Hall is the Family Head Hall (Gaju-jeon).
The next largest is the Mountain King Pavilion (Sanwang-gak), while the Purple Tiger Hall (Juho-gwan) where I eat and sleep is treated as a small annex.
Therefore, when one hears 'Sanwol Hall' of the Inner Hall, there’s a certain scale that naturally comes to mind. This place, however, seemed a bit small to even be called a 'Pavilion.'
At my question, Peng Jeon-gun chuckled and patted my back.
"The authority of Sanwol Hall itself is equal to that of the Family Head Hall, so it was difficult to call it anything less. In the first place—"
Creeeeeak…
Before Peng Jeon-gun could finish his sentence, the entrance to Sanwol Hall opened with a sinister sound.
An old man appeared at the door and finished the sentence for him.
"In the first place, the martial artists belonging to Sanwol Hall rarely stay within the Peng Family District."
"Aha. How practical."
"Indeed. So there’s no need for us to huddle together in the cramped quarters of the Inner Hall."
The old man, Hall Master Peng Ik-cheon, gave a dry laugh as he looked down at me.
"Welcome to Sanwol Hall, kid."
*
16. Sanwol Hall.
"Well then, Hall Master, I shall take my leave. Peng Hyeon-hwi, your training schedule will follow Sanwol Hall's routine for the time being, so make sure you don't fall behind."
"Go on then."
It wasn't like he was dropping a kid off at a boarding school or something.
I bowed to the departing Peng Jeon-gun and stepped inside Sanwol Hall.
The place was so poorly cleaned that I could feel the thick layer of dust crunching under my shoes.
"Are there no servants here?"
"No one is allowed to enter except for the martial artists of Sanwol Hall."
Peng Ik-cheon shrugged and walked naturally further inside.
The interior of the pavilion had a structure not much different from any other ordinary building—except for the massive map spread out in the center.
On a table as large as a platform, a giant map, numerous smaller maps, notes, and scribbled papers were scattered in disarray.
Peng Ik-cheon pointed to them, grinned, and asked, "What have you heard about what Sanwol Hall does?"
"I heard it’s the place that inspects and audits the vassals of the Peng Family."
"That’s roughly correct. The ones we keep the closest eye on are our own family members. That being the case, how could we allow servants—who might have become the hands and feet of those family members—into this hall?"
"That makes sense, but… shouldn't there be some level of maintenance?"
This wasn't just the complaining of a young master who didn't know the ways of the world. Even by the standards of this era, it was a perfectly rational opinion.
Martial artists were essentially a breed that did nothing but eat and train, and they were vital resources that required massive investments like spirit medicines and secret manuals.
Think about it—even in modern warfare, isn't the value of a pilot calculated in the millions of dollars? It means that much money is invested in their training.
To make such personnel clean buildings, prepare meals, and wash dishes is a bit of a waste of resources.
At my words, Peng Ik-cheon shrugged and pulled out a large container. Naturally, that container was also covered in dust.
He blew the fine dust away and opened it to reveal it was filled with bright red pills.
It was something I knew well.
Those were Grain-Avoiding Pills.
A dried food made by steaming a mixture of grains and pine resin, then rolling them into balls. It was a miraculous vegan diet of 100% carbohydrates.
"From today, every meal except dinner will be this."
"Oh."
"You’ll be going back to the Purple Tiger Hall in the evening anyway, so eat there. Though you won't be able to do that once missions are assigned or handed down."
"Aha…"
"Besides, every other room in this pavilion except for this one is a library. You’ll only go up there when you need materials. There is no place for you to sleep or rest. No cleaning required."
"How efficient."
I didn't expect to start my career at age ten in a place that felt like a child labor camp from the Industrial Revolution.
As I stared blankly at the map, Peng Ik-cheon sat down haphazardly and spoke.
"We monitor the members of our family."
"Yes, I know."
"Do you know what that truly means?"
"Pardon…?"
"It means you must trust no one, and no one will trust us. Even if you find evidence that a family member has violated the family laws, it won't end smoothly. It means that even if you have clear evidence, you might die if you don't neutralize the opponent."
"But didn't you say the authority of Sanwol Hall is equal to the Family Head Hall…?"
"Of course it is. If you have the evidence, denounce them, and bring them to their knees before the Elders. But think about it from the Elders' perspective. Between us—who are always watching them and looking for faults—and the martial units they personally raised, nurtured, and shared meals with, whose side do you think they’d want to take? Even if you have evidence, getting it acknowledged is another matter entirely."
Fundamentally, the Peng Family's laws are quite flexible.
No matter what you do, as long as it's [for the sake of the family], it’s usually overlooked. As long as you don't directly harm a family member, most things are permitted if there’s a reason.
Therefore, one must have proof that 'this person is definitely a traitor.'
Proving it is a problem, but even if you do, whether the Council of Elders accepts it is a separate issue.
And even if you go through that grueling process and attempt an on-site arrest, whether they’ll surrender quietly is yet another matter.
If you fight and kill them there, you’ll be viewed as someone who killed a kinsman (no matter how justified you were), and if you lose, you die.
'Is this the Murim version of the NIS?'
This was practically the treatment of a black ops agent stationed overseas.
A department that had to endure the competition of the Black Path, the scrutiny of the Orthodox Murim, and the blatant glares of the government, all while simultaneously monitoring their own family.
'The radius of action is also ridiculously wide. We have to track and inspect the movements of family members scattered across all of Hebei, and if necessary, even audit other sects in the Dragon Slaying Alliance.'
And yet, it was a group that received no recognition from anyone except for the favor of the Family Head.
This was a complex problem.
Fundamentally, all martial artists of the Peng Family obey the Family Head. The authority of the Family Head is equivalent to the prestige of the entire family.
However, the Family Head does not involve himself in the day-to-day affairs of the family. He remains a monarch who reigns but does not rule.
The only duty of the Peng Family Head is to 'be the strongest.'
In other words, to be a 'symbol' capable of deterring other sects by his mere existence.
The Head of the Hebei Peng Family has always been the number one person of the Black Path.
Because such a being is the symbol of the family's leadership, the Hebei Peng Family holds the top position in the Dragon Slaying Alliance and maintains its reputation as the greatest family of the Black Path.
That means the Family Head focuses solely on his cultivation, delegating 'trivial' matters like family management to the Young Family Head.
And the authority of the Young Family Head is not superior to that of the Council of Elders.
The Young Family Head manages the family by gathering the opinions of the Elders and making strategic decisions, but he cannot reign over them.
Thus, the Council of Elders—composed of elders from the twelve halls of the Inner and Outer Halls and their respective martial units—and the San-gun Hall, where the seniors of those elders gather, are the supreme decision-making bodies of the Peng Family.
This meant that Sanwol Hall, which had to inspect all of them, had no allies except for the Family Head.
Without significant economic support, without the respect befitting their duties, and without allies within the family.
They had to monitor the entire family, occasionally antagonize them, and in most cases, 'suspect' their own kin.
And yet, they were madmen who acted [only for the sake of the family].
Because members had to be selected based solely on their loyalty to the family, their numbers were extremely small. Consequently, most members were always away on missions, so there was no need to maintain the pavilion.
That was the reality of Sanwol Hall, where I stood now.
"There’s a reason why those of the direct lineage don't enter Sanwol Hall."
"But weren't you the Family Head's own brother, Hall Master?"
"Things were different in our time. The previous Family Head… well, did you not learn how your great-grandfather died?"
"I heard he was defeated and killed by the Sword Immortal of the Jongnam Sect during the Righteous-Demonic War."
"Yes. And we had to keep the family together after losing the Family Head and the backbone of the clan. At the time, everyone in the Sima Alliance wanted to find someone to blame for the defeat, and they were looking to turn hostile against us, who had lost our leader."
In such a situation, what Peng Ik-jin and Peng Ik-cheon—who were mere snot-nosed brats back then—had to do to survive was clear.
Peng Ik-jin had to prove he was the family's only hope. He had to induce the family members to pin their hopes on him before they scattered.
To him, a brother would have been a risk factor. At a time when survival was uncertain even if the will of every family member was united, there was no room for succession competition between brothers.
Peng Ik-cheon was clever enough to understand his brother's situation, talented enough to be a threat to him, and his brotherly love was deep enough to follow his brother's will.
To ensure his older brother wouldn't have to stain his hands with the blood of his beloved younger sibling—
"As soon as my Hegemonic Blade ceremony was over, I entered Sanwol Hall of my own accord. Since then, I haven't even married, and I’ve devoted my loyalty to the Family Head. For the sake of my own survival."
I didn't entirely agree with the old man's words.
His actions weren't merely for survival.
To prevent the family from splitting, to ensure brothers wouldn't kill their own flesh and blood.
The boy of that day, who loved this family and his brother so much, volunteered even though he knew everyone in the family would spend their lives wary of him and keeping him at a distance.
I couldn't help but bow my head deeply toward him.
A man who had sacrificed everything for one thing his entire life deserved respect.
"May I call you Great-Uncle?"
"Don't talk nonsense. Forget it. I’m not so old that I need sympathy from a nursling."
"The Righteous-Demonic War was ninety years ago…"
"The war lasted for twenty years, and it’s only been a bit over sixty years since the previous Family Head died, you brat. I’ve only just passed seventy!"
"If you're over seventy, aren't you plenty old enough to be a grandfather…?"
I smiled as I crunched on a Grain-Avoiding Pill in front of the grumbling old man.
A similar expression appeared on the old man's withered lips.
As we were finishing our heartwarming grandfather-grandson mealtime, looking at each other fondly, my great-uncle suddenly spoke.
"If you're done stuffing your face, let's go."
"Huh? Where?"
"What did you think you’d be doing as part of Sanwol Hall?"
"Monitoring the family?"
"No. Martial arts."
The gaze of Peng Ik-cheon, who had been a warm old man just a moment ago, shifted into that of a stern master.
"Monitoring, tracking, and arresting are all useless without strength."
"Oh."
"Since you've mastered the Hunyuan Art, it’s time for you to learn the next technique. Follow me to the inner courtyard. For the time being, you’ll spend your mornings learning the duties of Sanwol Hall and your afternoons learning martial arts."
Saying so, Peng Ik-cheon creaked open the old door leading to the inner courtyard.
A thick cloud of dust billowed up.
I saw an inner courtyard that was parched and desolate.
Standing before it, Peng Ik-cheon looked back at me with a devious grin.
"I’m going to grind you down until you can survive no matter where you're thrown."
"May I ask what the criteria for that is?"
"Do you remember what you said to me during the Hegemonic Blade ceremony?"
Hmm.
I searched my memory for a moment. What I said to that old man…
—Let's make it ten moves.
Oh, surely not.
"If you can endure ten moves, you pass."
"You're going to adjust your level to mine, right?"
"Now, let's start with a light warm-up."
"You are going to adjust it, right…?"
Claaaaang!!
The moment I stepped into the inner courtyard's training ground, the old man lunged and brought his blade down without an answer.
As I barely managed to draw my saber and block it, Peng Ik-cheon’s lips curved into a deep, sharp smile.
"We'll see how you do."
*
After that…
"Gah!! Huff, huff!"
When I opened my eyes, I was back in the Purple Tiger Hall.
At the same time, late at night.
Peng Ik-cheon visited the Family Head Hall.
"Is he useful?"
"You knew he was useful, which is why you attached him to me."
"Yes, I suppose I did."
The Family Head, Peng Ik-jin, let out a small chuckle as he looked down at his grumbling younger brother.
"How much are you going to teach him?"
"As much as the brat can learn."
"Even the secret techniques?"
"If he proves worthy."
Even the secret techniques taught only to the Young Family Head. Yes, if he was worthy. So, until then.
"Train him well enough so that he doesn't die."
It was a statement laden with meaning.
To the level where he wouldn't die a dog's death somewhere far away.
Or… to the level where he wouldn't be killed by his own older brothers.
To the level where he could compete for the position of Family Head.
With those meanings in mind.
The younger brother, who had never once disobeyed his elder brother's request, looked into his brother's eyes, grumbled once more, and turned to leave.