He Caught Me on a Bad Day, Didn't He? (4)
“So you have something you want to ask?”
“Yes.”
Namgung Dowi scratched at his head.
What had just come back to him was Cheong Myeong’s warning that he mustn’t force them. Namgung Dowi, who knew what Namgung Hyeok wanted to ask, did not want to control their choice and bend it to his own will.
“It’s not that I have nothing to say, but this choice is entirely yours. I can’t force you.”
But Namgung Hyeok shook his head as if that wasn’t what he meant at all.
“I understand that, Young Patriarch. It’s just...”
“Hm?”
“Can’t we at least talk?”
“...Talk?”
“Yes, talk.”
Namgung Hyeok gave Namgung Dowi a furtive look.
“Honestly, until now, I thought that if you gave an order, Young Patriarch, we were supposed to simply obey. I thought that was our duty.”
“...”
“But now that I’ve come this far, I can’t help thinking it might have been better if we’d just asked you plainly from the start why you were making us go through this training, and talked it out honestly.”
Namgung Dowi stared at Namgung Hyeok blankly.
Then the other man awkwardly scratched the back of his head.
“If you dislike the idea, Young Patriarch, then there’s nothing to be done. But if possible, I’d like to talk with everyone. If we don’t, I think I’ll regret it.”
“...”
“Would that be impossible?”
Namgung Dowi could not hide his fluster and waved his hands.
“Ah, why would it be impossible?”
“So we can?”
He nodded vigorously.
“Of course. In fact, I’d be the one asking.”
As soon as he said that, the Namgung swordsmen began drifting closer around him one by one. They seemed to be feeling the same way Namgung Hyeok did.
“U-um... Young Patriarch, did you know they were that strong?”
“What do you think the secret is?”
“If we follow that training, can we really become that strong too?”
At the flood of questions, Namgung Dowi lifted both hands.
“Wait, wait a moment!”
“Yes?”
“Let’s not rush. We’ll take it slowly. The night isn’t short, is it?”
Everyone seemed to accept that, nodding as they sat down in a circle around Namgung Dowi.
Namgung Dowi looked at them one by one, taking them in anew.
Has there ever been a time like this?
He had tried to persuade and lead them before, but as Namgung Hyeok said, he realized he’d never truly “talked” with them.
The one in front led; the ones behind trusted and followed. That was the Namgung family’s way.
So Namgung Dowi had tried to become a strong patriarch. A strong patriarch who could lift them all up and guide them without leaving a single one behind.
But...
That’s it.
Maybe there had never been a need to cling so rigidly to that way after all.
He and they were still lacking. And when people were lacking, wasn’t it only natural that they should fill one another’s gaps?
With his resolve firming, he nodded and spoke.
“Hyeok.”
“Yes, Young Patriarch.”
“Go bring Dan here too.”
“Yes.”
“And...”
Namgung Dowi smiled oddly. It was an expression faintly reminiscent of Cheong Myeong—something wicked and unmistakably dangerous.
“Slip out of the manor quietly and...”
“Yes?”
“Go get some liquor.”
“L-liquor?”
The Namgung swordsmen all stared at him in shock, but he simply nodded with complete composure.
“Yes, liquor.”
“W-why suddenly liquor?”
“I think we’ll need it.”
He shrugged and grinned.
“I learned this much from experience: when there’s liquor, words come easily. Since we’ve come this far, let’s get everything off our chests tonight and have a proper, honest talk.”
“...”
“Can’t we?”
Namgung Hyeok nodded with utter seriousness.
“I’ll bring back a whole cartload!”
“Good.”
Namgung Hyeok picked a few people and led them out. Namgung Dowi smiled faintly.
“Let’s take it slowly. Maybe... maybe we’ve all piled up too many things we needed to say to each other.”
Perhaps this was how it should have been from the start.
They were all suffering under too much pressure. Just as Namgung Dowi had been crushed beneath the burden of having to lead them, they too must have been feeling the responsibility of having to stand as the central pillars and support Namgung Clan themselves.
Maybe what they truly needed was not weighty words about duty and obligation, but a conversation in which they laid everything down and simply comforted one another.
After a short wait, Namgung Hyeok returned with the liquor and lined the bottles up before them. Namgung Dowi picked up the bottle in front of him.
“Let’s have a drink.”
“...”
But none of the others immediately reached for their bottles. Doubt was written plainly on their faces, as if they were wondering whether this was really all right.
Namgung Dowi did not wait for them. He raised the bottle in his hand and drank deeply, as if showing off.
“Khh!”
Then, just as Cheong Myeong had once done, he wiped the corner of his mouth with his sleeve and smiled at everyone.
“Am I supposed to drink alone?”
Those who had been hesitating all this time finally picked up their bottles one by one and tipped them back.
“Khh.”
“Ah... bitter.”
After swallowing a mouthful, they looked back and forth between the bottles they had drunk from and Namgung Dowi with renewed eyes.
And then—
“Heh, heh.”
“Hahaha!”
One after another, all of them burst into laughter.
“This is the first time I’ve ever had a drink with the Young Patriarch.”
“Right? The Young Patriarch never really likes liquor to begin with.”
“It feels strange.”
Careful words began spilling out, one after another. Stories they had kept tightly bundled up. Stories they had never quite been able to bring themselves to voice.
As those loosened words drifted into the air, Namgung Dowi smiled quietly.
Don’t force them.
Maybe that hadn’t meant he should simply leave them to choose on their own.
“Let’s drink until the sun comes up.”
“Yes, Young Patriarch!”
Namgung Dowi laughed and raised his bottle.
The night seemed likely to be a long one for him too.
“Tch.”
Glug-glug-glug.
Cheong Myeong clicked his tongue and took a drink. Then he twirled the bottle lightly in his hand and snorted.
“That’s why all those so-called prestigious families are such a pain in the ass...”
Down below, he could faintly hear the voices of the Namgung swordsmen talking among themselves. Cheong Myeong shook his head.
So they’d finally figured out what they were supposed to do. A long sigh slipped from his lips.
Still, I guess...
It was rather entertaining in its own way. It even reminded him a little of Mount Hua back in the day.
“Yeah. Drink up, you little bastards. Don’t go around looking like you’re carrying the weight of the world and then live on because you’re too stubborn to die.”
Moderate pressure could be helpful, but too much of it would grind a person to dust.
“Haa. You’re all such a damned handful.”
Shaking his head, Cheong Myeong took another swig while staring at the moon in the sky.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Cheong Myeong looked blankly at the people standing in front of him.
Yes, the number was satisfactory.
He had thought maybe thirty percent of them would run off, but at a glance, there didn’t seem to be a single empty spot. It looked like the drinking session from yesterday had done exactly what it was supposed to do.
From Cheong Myeong’s perspective, if the number had been reduced a little, teaching them would have been easier, but from Namgung Clan’s perspective, training one more person was always better.
So he had no complaints about the number. But... there was just one problem.
“Ugh.”
“D-don’t vomit!”
“My stomach... feels like it’s tearing apart...”
“No, I told you to go over there and throw up!”
“Uweeeek!”
“...”
Life vanished abruptly from Cheong Myeong’s eyes.
What is this, a flower garden?
Faces flushed red and faces drained white were mixed together in total disorder, a riot of colors.
And that wasn’t all.
Even though they were standing a decent distance away, the stench of liquor pouring off them was so vile that he wanted to clamp a hand over his nose.
“...Hey.”
“Yes?”
“...Just how much did you people drink?”
“...”
Cheong Myeong was so dumbfounded he couldn’t even find words.
No, I thought only Namgung Hwang was the kind of lunatic who didn’t know moderation.
At a glance, it was obvious they’d been pouring liquor down their throats until just before gathering here. Since when had Namgung Clan’s traditions changed like this?
Pangga wouldn’t even do this, you idiots!
“I’ve lived a long, long time, and still...”
“...”
“No, seriously...”
When Cheong Myeong couldn’t bring himself to go on, the Namgung swordsmen quietly exchanged looks among themselves.
I told you to drink in moderation!
How was I supposed to know the sun had come up already?
What’s so precious about the leftover liquor anyway?
If a man draws his sword, he’d better cut something with it!
The Young Patriarch looks like he’s gone a little off the rails. Hey, hey! He’s tipping over! Grab him!
Thud.
“Oh no! Young Patriarch!”
“Pull yourself together!”
“Hurry up and get him up!”
“Ughhhh...”
In the end, a crowd rushed to Namgung Dowi, who had completely lost his grip on consciousness. They strained to lift him, but it honestly looked easier to prop up a marionette with its strings cut.
“I-I can still drink more...”
“Young Patriarch, please, pull yourself together!”
“Someone go get some cold water! Now!”
Cheong Myeong pressed his throbbing temple with his index finger. Just looking at them was enough to bring the headache roaring back.
“...You really are a bunch of idiots. A whole bunch of idiots.”
He let out a long sigh.
One Mount Hua was already more than enough to handle, and now these bastards were making a mess too.
“In any case... if you came out here, that means you’re here to train, right?”
“Yes!”
The reply thundered back.
“...In that condition?”
“...”
A strange silence fell this time. Cheong Myeong pressed his temple again and went on.
“Do you think training is a joke, you idiots? Huh? You think this is some easy thing? And you want to train looking like that?”
“We can do it!”
“Just tell us what to do!”
“This time, we’ll truly give it our all without a single complaint!”
Just by their eyes alone, they looked like righteous martyrs marching into battle to save a nation. Their bodies, unfortunately, looked like they’d just staggered out of a defeat.
But...
“Dojang.”
Namgung Dowi, who had been swaying moments before, suddenly stood upright and spoke to Cheong Myeong.
“Just command us.”
“...”
There was confidence in those eyes now, a confidence they had never held before. Not the confidence of a Young Patriarch clinging to his rank, but the confidence of someone who understood exactly where he stood.
“Then we will follow with everything we have.”
“...”
“So please don’t worry... uuueeek!”
“Where’s the cold water?”
“I-I’m bringing it now!”
“...”
Cheong Myeong let out a long, weary sigh.
Fine, whatever. Compared to yesterday, when they’d been scattered like grains of sand, they did at least seem to have come together. Though it was partly because things that shouldn’t have been fused together had mixed in as well... like liquor fumes.
“Anyway.”
“Yes!”
“...Right, fine. Since you understand, let’s start by running. You see that mountain over there?”
“Yes!”
“Run to the summit and come back.”
“Yes!”
“Run!”
“I’m going first!”
The Namgung swordsmen shouted and broke into a run toward the mountain peak Cheong Myeong pointed at.
Watching them as they toppled over, rolled across the ground, then sprang up and kept running again, Cheong Myeong muttered under his breath.
“...I can already see the hard road ahead. The hard road ahead.”
Accept your fate.
“No, that’s something you say about other people’s lives!”
He jabbed a finger at the sky, but after a moment he caught sight of the Namgung Clan’s backs as they rushed away and ended up snorting with laughter.
“How am I supposed to turn those idiots into proper human beings? Haa... hey, run faster!”
Warm sunlight settled over the backs of the Namgung Clan disciples as they raced with everything they had.
“U, uweeeek!”
“I told you not to throw up!”
Of course... it wasn’t as if it was warm only in the pleasant sense.