This Much Popularity Already
Was it because they sensed the unusual atmosphere amid all this popularity? Yi Jingang, who had been lagging at the rear, quickly approached.
“What’s going on?”
“They say they’re from the Dongbeonhoe.”
“Dongbeonhoe?”
Yi Jingang’s brows furrowed.
“Jinpyeong. Do you know something about this?”
Everyone was staring at Yi Jinpyeong. He’d been at the center of every incident so far.
Yi Jinpyeong shrugged casually. “Who knows? We haven’t tangled with the Dongbeonhoe crew yet.”
“So you have tangled with others?” Yi Jinun asked, eyes wide.
Gang Ryong, standing nearby, averted his gaze slightly. The other warriors surrounding the cart did the same…
“Anyway, let’s head inside first. The guests are already waiting, aren’t they?” Yi Jingang forced a calm demeanor as he stepped through the gate.
Yi Jinun followed behind him, and the youngest, Yi Jinpyeong, watched them for a moment before slowly starting off.
Acting like the head of Yi Gajang, huh.
Considering Yi Gajang’s current status, this was like receiving an unannounced visit from a major power. Yet Yi Jingang wasn’t dodging or showing fear—he was stepping up to greet them head-on. Yi Jinpyeong had to admit, that sense of responsibility was impressive.
His brothers, whom he’d only seen as lacking, too kind and naive. That view wouldn’t change overnight, but he figured there was plenty more to learn about them going forward.
Still, the Dongbeonhoe…
He’d always figured a clash was inevitable. Especially since Yi Jinpyeong planned to dominate the entire Dongjeong Lake region.
But the Dongbeonhoe showing up first—before even Jang Gapae—was unexpected. A mere exclusive jerky contract with Gu Sam’s shop shouldn’t warrant this.
There was one hunch he had, though…
I’ll see how they play this first.
Passing through the gate, they entered the manor grounds. What unfolded before them was the central courtyard—the largest space in Yi Gajang. A century ago, it had bustled with descendants and warriors training in martial arts.
“…!”
Now, that desolate expanse was filled with strangers. A tent had been pitched smack in the middle—who knew where they’d gotten it—and over thirty warriors lined up on either side, swords gleaming at their waists.
Inside the tent sat the leaders who’d brought them, lounging casually with fans in hand.
Spotting the Yi brothers entering, the Dongbeonhoe group rose in unison to greet them. It was hard to tell who were the guests and who the hosts.
“I am Yi Jingang of Yi Gajang.”
Yi Jingang offered a cupped-fist salute first.
Though his father had long passed, he never referred to himself as manor lord or family head.
Yi Jinpyeong hung back, scrutinizing the Dongbeonhoe men closely. No intention of bowing alongside his brothers.
The man in the center—who’d been fanning himself—stepped forward. He wore an elegant blue robe with flair, his skin pale and his glossy black hair flowing. He reeked of money, plain and simple.
“I am Gwak Sung, in charge of Operations and Strategy for the Dongbeonhoe.”
He folded his fan and returned the salute. Posture straight, shoulders broad, eyes deep, a confident smile playing on his lips. Whatever “Operations and Strategy” meant, it sounded impressive. And to Yi Jinpyeong’s eye, the man was a properly trained warrior—disciplined in his arts. He had the dignity befitting someone from a top-ten power around Dongjeong Lake.
Though he couldn’t yet gauge the full scale of Dongbeonhoe, this guy was no mid-level pawn.
Did Yi Jingang sense it too? His voice trembled ever so slightly as he responded.
“We were away from the manor briefly, yet you honored us with your visit. To what do we owe the pleasure from the Dongbeonhoe?”
“We’ve come to offer congratulations and thanks to Yi Gajang.”
“Congratulations… and thanks?”
An unexpected response. At least they weren’t here with hostile intent—that was a relief. But from Yi Gajang’s perspective, both words felt utterly out of place.
Gwak Sung smiled brightly and continued. “Yi Gajang’s legendary martial art has resurfaced in the world—that’s cause for celebration. And it was used to aid our Dongbeonhoe merchants—that merits our gratitude. Our Dongbeonhoe leader was overjoyed at the news and instructed me to come pay respects at once. We’ve prepared a modest gift; please accept it.”
With a flick of his sleeve, he gestured to one side. Dongbeonhoe warriors pulled away the cloth they’d been hiding something under, revealing sacks of grain piled high.
Gasps rose from the (former) Hwang Sabang men.
“I still don’t quite follow. Could you explain in more detail? Whatever happened, we can’t just accept such an overly generous gift without understanding.”
Yi Jingang’s unexpectedly cautious stance. Yi Jinun’s jaw dropped, and Yi Jingang pulled him back while glancing at Yi Jinpyeong.
But Yi Jinpyeong just stood there behind his brothers, looking blankly unconcerned—as if it had nothing to do with him.
Gwak Sung observed every reaction closely. When his eyes met Yi Jinpyeong’s piercing glare—full of disdain—he flinched.
Those eyes seemed to see right through him…
But he kept smiling, fanning himself casually with a laugh. “Haha, keeping one’s good deeds from even family—truly admirable. You behind there must be the third young master? The one who suffered from mania until recently…”
Yi Jinun poked Yi Jinpyeong’s side. He still said nothing.
“What happened to our little brother?”
“It happened to us. The third young master helped us.”
“…!”
“Truth be told, our group has been dealing with some internal unrest lately, so we haven’t paid much attention to our merchants. That allowed some unruly thugs to cause havoc in the market. If the third young master of Yi Gajang hadn’t stepped up yesterday with that wondrous martial art to deliver justice, our merchants—who trusted Dongbeonhoe—might have suffered even greater losses.”
Now all eyes openly turned to Yi Jinpyeong. Yi Jingang, Yi Jinun—even Gang Ryong and Gwak Yeonyong, along with the rest of the (former) Hwang Sabang crew. Their stares said it plainly: You? Justice?
Yi Jinpyeong, silent until now, finally spoke.
“Shallow. So damn shallow. I can see right through you.”
His tone clashed sharply with the polite exchanges so far.
Gwak Sung’s smile vanished for the first time.
“The Dongjeong Prosperity Association is a coalition of merchants, right? I’ve never seen merchants move without calculating profit and loss. So this isn’t about thanks or congrats. You clearly want something.”
Silence fell.
Gang Ryong squeezed his eyes shut. Gwak Yeonyong nodded faintly. Yi Jingang and Yi Jinun just watched their brother quietly.
Gwak Sung forced a laugh. “The Yi brothers must have endured a harsh world. Please don’t misunderstand—we’re purely—”
“Pure my ass. Save that crap for my brothers.”
“……”
“Hey, whatever-you-are Operations guy. Want me to guess your real intentions?”
Gwak Sung’s eyebrow twitched. Expression control was slipping—especially with this snot-nosed kid from a nothing family talking down to him like that.
He spread his fan to half-hide his face and replied coolly. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”
“Jang Gapae’s tougher than they seem—way tougher. Or they’ve got big backing. You knew your merchants were suffering but didn’t step in rashly, making excuses about internal mess. Then out of nowhere, some punk shows up and humiliates them badly. Perfect chance, right? Use Yi Gajang to draw out Jang Gapae’s full strength—or at least pull eyes their way?”
“……”
“Am I wrong? Guys who didn’t show their faces during the market rampage come rushing here with gifts the very next day? And real gift-bringers don’t waltz into an empty manor and wait like they own the place.”
Gwak Sung’s face flushed red. He wasn’t the only one.
Yi Jingang and Yi Jinun, hearing this, finally realized what was off from the start. Had they grown too used to intruders barging through Yi Gajang’s gates?
“And if you’re showing sincerity, bring meat or fruit at least. Sacks of rice? Rice sacks. Do we look like beggars to you?”
Appearance-wise, they weren’t far off. But Yi Jinpyeong stood tall and defiant.
Gwak Sung’s expression shifted repeatedly before he snorted derisively. That scoff carried contempt and mockery—far from his earlier courtesy.
“Pity. We offer goodwill, but you won’t take it. Seems the youngest’s mania hasn’t fully healed.”
“Watch your mouth!”
A roar laced with fury. Not from Yi Jinpyeong—from Yi Jingang and Yi Jinun.
Gwak Sung, mask off, continued coldly. “Watch my mouth? Did I say something I shouldn’t? And even if we do want something, what’s wrong with that? You don’t seriously think you can take on Jang Gapae alone without our support? That old Yi Gajang art really came back or something?”
Gwak Sung finished with a booming laugh that echoed through the courtyard. Loaded with deep inner energy, it made the Yi brothers and their untrained warriors pale and stagger.
Only one remained unfazed: Yi Jinpyeong.
He turned to his brothers with a grin. “See, brothers? They flip out the second we peek at their game. Deal with their kind by suspecting—always suspecting.”
Dongbeonhoe’s Operations head, Gwak Sung, inwardly cursed. Things should’ve gone smoothly and subtly per plan, but that third punk had struck the core and provoked him into losing cool.
And…
“!!!”
Suddenly—thud thud thud—the ground shook with hooves. Dozens of horses charging wildly.
“W-what is that?!”
People peered over the walls, murmuring. Yi Gajang held an independent spot even by Dongjeong Lake standards. If riders were galloping urgently, this had to be their destination.
Neighhh! Horses braked hard, followed by the clang of drawn weapons.
Faces blanched. Gwak Sung and his Dongbeonhoe crew. Even Yi Gajang’s brothers and warriors.
Amid it all, one stayed utterly calm: Yi Jinpyeong.
He burst out laughing. “Surprised? I invited some guests ahead of time.”
Jang Gapae thugs charging in with blades drawn, faces fierce. Dongbeonhoe warriors yanking swords in panic.
Yi Jinpyeong watched them all with satisfaction.
Yi Gajang was this popular.