Chapter 9
Chapter 9
Translator: Penny
Chapter 9
Yang Gicheol leaped down beside his son in a fluid motion.
"What in the world is going on here?"
His first reaction upon assessing the situation wasn't surprise or concern, but rage.
"I asked what happened!" His voice thundered.
Yang Gikang struggled to open his eyes, jolted awake by his father's booming voice. Groaning in pain, he managed to croak, "Father... that bastard... tried to kill me..."
When Yang Gicheol realized that I was the one who had beaten his son, he glared at me with murderous intent. Unable to attack me directly, he turned on his subordinate with renewed fury.
"Is this true?"
"Well..." The subordinate stammered, reluctant to answer.
Slap!
Yang Gicheol struck his subordinate across the face with brutal force.
"You stupid bastard! How could you let the heir of the Grand Yang Association end up in this state?"
Yang Gicheol's anger was far from spent, and the beating continued.
Slap! Slap! Slap! Whack!
I understood. Yang Gicheol wasn't just punishing his subordinate; he was punishing me. He was making a statement to my father, a warning that his own son could be next.
The man finally collapsed unconscious. Still seething, Yang Gicheol stomped on the fallen subordinate several more times before turning to face my father.
"How will you take responsibility for this?"
My father looked at me. I met his gaze calmly, neither cowed nor defiant.
What did he read in my composure?
I expected a fiery reprimand, but my father remained composed.
First, I asked Seo Jung for his account of what had happened.
"What exactly happened?"
Seo Jung calmly reported the events that had just transpired. He explained how Yang Gikang had tried to harass Songhui, forced Gwangdu to commit inhumane acts when he tried to intervene, and offered to drop the matter if I apologized. Thankfully, he omitted no essential details.
In any ordinary family, a father would have hung his head in shame at his son's actions. But Yang Gicheol, with brazen audacity, roared in righteous fury, turning the blame on me.
"You dared to beat my son over some lowly servant and a quarrelsome wench? How dare you lay a hand on my son!"
It seemed any further evaluation of his character was unnecessary. That single outburst revealed everything I needed to know.
Yang Gicheol glared at me, his eyes blazing with venomous intent.
"How do you plan to take responsibility for this incident?"
If only I could...
But I restrained both my fists and my tongue. It wasn't a question of whether I could defeat him. Reluctantly, I knew that resolving this situation would have to begin with my apology.
Then, Father unexpectedly spoke up.
"I believe the Yang Association Leader should be held responsible."
Everyone, including myself, was stunned. Under the intense gazes, Father was no longer the calm, passive man we knew. His tone was sharp and resolute.
"What did you just say?"
"Young Master Yang not only imbued his fists with Internal Force but even drew his sword to try and kill my son—against an unarmed opponent. Everyone here witnessed it, so I believe we have ample witnesses."
Father surveyed the crowd. The True Martial Artists on our side all nodded in agreement, while those from the Yang Association remained silent. With so many witnesses, there was no room for denial or manipulation.
Father's stern voice grew even more forceful. "Had it been anyone else, I would have personally punished them severely for this grave offense. But out of respect for the Yang Association Leader, I will grant you leniency this once."
"What?!" Yang Gicheol exclaimed.
"If word of this incident spreads throughout the martial world, Young Master Yang—and indeed your entire association—will become the laughingstock of the community, wouldn't you agree?"
Yang Gicheol's face twisted into a ferocious scowl, his anger threatening to erupt at any moment. It wouldn't have been surprising if he had drawn his sword right then and there.
"What exactly are you trying to accomplish?" Yang Gicheol demanded.
Father mirrored his words exactly. "And what exactly are you trying to accomplish?"
The two men's imposing auras clashed, Father's presence completely overwhelming Yang Gicheol's.
I had always thought my father might be a little timid, but that was a misconception born from his calm demeanor.
He was a true martial artist—a rugged, rough-and-tumble man who exuded the raw, rugged masculinity of a seasoned warrior. It wasn't just about the strength of his martial arts; it was about the very essence of a martial artist's character.
Only now did I understand why Seo Jung had never left my father's side. He had seen my father's true nature—a man worthy of unwavering loyalty.
Yang Gicheol ultimately couldn't bring himself to attack. Instead, he vented his anger in the most petty way imaginable.
"Repay the money you borrowed immediately!"
"I will."
It was true that the Yang Association's power far surpassed ours, but Yang Gicheol had only brought twenty men with him. Moreover, he had never faced my father in a fight. Seeing my father's formidable stance, he dared not confront him directly. And to top it off, he lacked any legitimate justification for his actions.
"Our guest is leaving," my father announced coldly, his expression suggesting he'd rather sprinkle salt on them.
Yang Gicheol stormed out, his son and subordinates trailing behind him, breathing heavily.
Only then did my father turn to me and ask, "Why did you do that?"
My father had reached the pinnacle of the day's display of faith in me: trusting me implicitly first, then asking for the reason later.
"He insulted our family and forced me to do things no human being should ever be asked to do."
As he spoke, he glanced at Gwangdu and Songhui. Still dazed, they lowered their heads, clearly startled and embarrassed by the mention of "family."
After briefly alternating his gaze between me and Gwangdu, Father turned and entered his chambers without another word.
"Captain Seo, come in here for a moment."
"Yes, Patriarch."
He was likely going to strategize about how to handle this situation.
He offered neither praise nor scolding. Well, I'd take that as a compliment.
Seo Jung, following Father into the room, glanced back at me. His gaze held more goodwill than reproach.
It wasn't just Seo Jung. The Sword Guards, True Martial Artists, maids, and servants alike were now staring at me with fresh curiosity. This was the first time since my rebirth as Byeok Ridan's son that I had truly met their eyes.
Songhui's face was radiant with emotion, as if she were about to rush forward and embrace me.
I approached her and crouched down to meet her gaze. "Did I frighten you too much?"
"No... yes."
"Don't worry about that bastard causing trouble again. He's not even worth being afraid of. Rest assured, from now on, I—and the brothers from the Main Family here—will protect you."
Songhui glanced at the Sword Guard warriors. They smiled and nodded in reassurance. These loyal men had remained despite meager pay, proving their integrity and kindness.
"Thank you, Young Master. Thank you, uncles."
Finally, a single tear escaped her grasp, tracing a path down her cheek. Having lived her entire life as a lowly maid, this was likely the first time she had ever felt such profound relief.
Before returning to her room, Songhui whispered in my ear, "I think I can finally trust you now, Young Master."
With that, everyone dispersed, leaving only Gwangdu and me.
His legs, weakened by tension, gave way, and Gwangdu collapsed onto the ground with a thud.
"I feel like I'm going to throw up."
"Don't. You'll have to clean it up."
I grinned at Gwangdu's bewildered expression.
After staring at me intently for a moment, he blurted out, "Aren't you scared, Young Master?"
"Why would I be scared?"
"What if the Yang Association attacks? I told you, they're the foremost power in Shandong right now."
"Did you see the expressions of those Yang Association martial artists earlier? They clearly loathed their master. I doubt many of them are truly loyal. On the other hand, did you see the faces of our Sword Guard?"
"Even so, they still outnumber us significantly."
"Battles aren't won by numbers alone. And wars don't break out so easily."
There were plenty of reasons to trust me, but when it came to warfare, my word was beyond question. After all, I'd spent my entire life on battlefields.
"A politically astute and calculating man like the Yang Association Leader wouldn't act rashly. He'll only make a move when he's certain of victory."
"Even after his son was beaten half to death?"
"Yang Gicheol didn't even bother to properly examine his son's injuries. He wasn't angry because his son was hurt; he was angry because someone had dared to strike his son."
"Isn't it all the same?"
"No, it's different. The very nature of his anger is completely different."
That bastard was selfish, thinking only of himself.
"I don't understand."
"Go and rest. You've had a long day."
As I turned to leave, Gwangdu grabbed my arm.
"Young Master."
"What is it?"
His eyes were trembling.
"Thank you for earlier."
Beneath the tremor, I sensed profound sincerity.
"Good. Don't you ever forget it."
"Whoa."
I turned my back on him and strode away. My expression had already turned serious.
Based on my years of political experience, I was certain he wouldn't act rashly. He'd either seek a foolproof method of revenge or find a way to avoid getting his hands dirty.
But once he moved, his methods would be unspeakably petty and cruel.
I had to strike first.
Right. Once I resolve this matter, I'll quietly focus on my cultivation.