Debut into the Jianghu
In the face of the chilling killing intent that sent shivers down his spine, the man Gang Ryong (28 years old) reflected on his life. But fortunately, the worst he feared didn't come to pass. How much time passed in that dreadful silence... Finally, the third young master Yi Jinpyeong spoke.
His voice was surprisingly calm.
"Fine. Now get out."
"Pardon?"
"I said scram. In the end, you're just following orders, aren't you?"
It was an unexpected reaction. True to his mad reputation, his emotions were unpredictable, swinging wildly. Was he back in a safe state now?
Gang Ryong hesitated for a moment before mustering his courage to ask, "Then... what about the plaque...?"
"..."
"No chance, right? Understood!"
This damn mouth of mine. Gang Ryong, who had nearly pissed himself, hurriedly shook his subordinates awake. He managed to line up the ones still flailing about in confusion and hoisted the badly injured ones onto their feet with combined effort.
With preparations to leave complete, Gang Ryong turned back, hesitating. The boy was simply gazing down at his brothers. Even amid this commotion, his two elder brothers showed no sign of regaining consciousness.
Noticing his gaze, Yi Jinpyeong asked, "Why haven't you left yet? Do you really want to be buried here?"
"N-no, sir! It's just..."
"Just?"
"Even if not the plaque, today of all days we needed to take something back... What am I supposed to tell our gang leader?"
"......"
"S-sorry! As you said, I'm just a cog in the machine!"
Chilling. It felt like a dagger piercing his chest. But even if he had to take the hit—regardless of how strong the boy was—shouldn't the matter of the debt be settled clearly?
If they returned empty-handed like this, it wouldn't be the boy who chopped off his head, but the Hwang Sabang leader.
Gang Ryong fidgeted anxiously. Yi Jinpyeong smirked and replied, "Don't worry. This body always repays its debts. I was planning to visit your gang soon anyway."
"...!"
Color returned to Gang Ryong's face. Explaining today's events to the leader would be a nightmare. Who would believe that the mad third young master of Yi Gajang, known for his lack of reason, suddenly wielded divine martial arts to thrash and chase them out?
But if the third young master met the leader himself and discussed repayment, they could resolve it amicably, peacefully, in a civilized manner—
"Before that, tell your leader this clearly: He better kowtow on the ground. How dare he eye Yi Gajang's plaque?"
"...!"
"You'd better not gloss over it or ignore my words. If your leader isn't kowtowing when I arrive, he'll die, and so will you. Got it?"
The third young master's eyes gleamed strangely. Gang Ryong realized his words were utterly sincere.
The greatest under heaven, Yi Gyeol, who enjoyed threats, watched the Hwang Sabang warriors leave the estate with sullen faces. Especially their burly, bearded leader—his complexion was ashen black.
It was well-deserved. He'd tried to test the waters and ended up with a massive lump instead. A huge one at that.
Would he relay his words to the Hwang Sabang leader verbatim? Who knew. He didn't know the man's type, but they might charge into Yi Gajang with their full gang depending on the circumstances.
All the more welcome.
Despite his frail body without a shred of inner energy, he didn't consider a dust-speck gang collecting twenty seok of rice a threat in the slightest. The moment they set foot in Yi Gajang with weapons drawn would be the perfect excuse to wipe them out at once—simple and clean.
That was the way of Yi Gyeol, once called the greatest under heaven.
Still...
'To think the family fell because of my dying words.'
They were memories from Yi Jinpyeong's ravaging madness, so he'd clung to a sliver of hope that it might not be true. But hearing the Hwang Sabang man's explanation, it all seemed fact.
His chest tightened. He bellowed at the sky.
"Fine! I did say live with charity. But who told you to go this far?! Did you ever see me give my whole life like that?! Huh?! Since when did you listen to me so well that this shit happens?!"
His voice scattered into the void. No one to answer.
Just a sore throat.
Yes, his dying words to live charitably were—slightly, very slightly—different from the path he'd walked. That his descendants followed them to the letter was even more absurd. Thoroughly so.
Pathetic fools.
But strictly speaking, it was his fault too. How could he blame them for faithfully following their ancestor's words?
And the two most extreme examples stood before him now. They never knew anger, foolishly trusted and followed people, their hearts filled only with mercy and giving—utterly unlike the Yi Gyeol of his lifetime.
The greatest under heaven, Yi Gyeol, sighed. How had such fools emerged? Was this heaven's will that Yi Gajang ended here?
Gazing at their skeletal limbs, rage bubbled up. Maybe he should just kick the dust off and leave.
Yes, like the old days—wandering the jianghu alone. Someday, if the mood struck, he could found another family. Whether a martial clan or a beggar one.
Better than this rock-bottom Yi Gajang, no?
"......"
But what remained within him—the fifteen-year-old Yi Jinpyeong—grabbed his ankle. And said: Look at them again—your brothers.
Orphans at a young age, losing even their remaining retainers one by one, ignored by those they'd once helped, hounded only for exploitation in this harsh world—they'd struggled to feed and treat their madness-plagued youngest brother, too weak to survive alone.
Yi Gyeol looked down at his body. Dust-caked, tattered clothes, torn in places like a beggar's. Arms and legs stick-thin.
Yet even this body was better off than the two before him. Brothers with nothing but bones left.
"...Pathetic fools."
He muttered softly.
Yi Jinpyeong stared at his brothers for a long while, crouched down. Time passed. The two skeletons showed no sign of stirring.
Yi Jinpyeong steeled himself. Yes. There must be a reason he closed his eyes early in his past life—and was reborn into this family.
And look: A family in utter ruin meant challenges galore ahead. How entertaining life would be. No room for boredom.
He resolved: This Yi Gajang, ruined by his dying words, he would rebuild with his own hands—into the greatest under heaven once more.
Yi Jinpyeong—or Yi Gyeol, the greatest under heaven—eyes flashing, sprang to his feet.
But the first thing to catch his eye: jujubes rolling on the ground. Withered ones like his brothers... His hard-won calm wavered again.
He kicked them hard once more.
"This is my offering... Argh!"
Pop!—The jujubes scattered high into the sky.
He gathered the jujubes again. Empty spots dotted the desolate estate. Plant them anywhere, and someday they'd sprout, grow into mighty trees bearing fruit.
Building a family was like that.
Should he feed them to his brothers? No, a few jujubes wouldn't help their state.
Fortunately, he'd "confiscated"—er, borrowed—some coins from the unconscious Hwang Sabang men. No guilt. With twenty seok in debt, a little extra was nothing.
Yi Gyeol, the greatest under heaven: He always repaid debts. Whatever they were.
And one more thing: He always collected what was owed. No matter the debtor's circumstances...
"Brothers. Wait just a bit. I'll get some proper meat or fish."
No reply.
Shaking the coins in his hand with a jingle, he stepped out. Such chores were unfamiliar to Yi Gyeol, once the greatest under heaven, or the frail, mad Yi Jinpyeong.
But what choice? Yi Gajang was empty—no servants or disciples to command.
"A vast estate, empty without a single servant or disciple? Does that make sense?"
Anger surged again. He calmed it with effort. At least they'd held onto this one estate—commendable in this state.
"...Should've made those guys do it."
The Hwang Sabang's burly one there to collect debt. Gang Ryong, was it? Rough speech and clumsy, but not rotten-hearted or treacherous.
If he were, Yi Gyeol would've beheaded him the moment he stirred.
His build looked decent—good bones, solid impact. Useful in many ways. Having such a one around made things easier.
'Next time we meet, I'll pin him to our estate. Assuming his head stays attached.'
Deciding another's fate on a whim, he flung open the gates. Dongjeong Lake stretched out vast and open.
He inhaled deeply the fresh spring air.
The former greatest under heaven, Yi Gyeol. Debuting into the jianghu at fifteen, by twenty unmatched under heaven.
A hundred years later, today: He stepped forth into the jianghu in his descendant's body and name.
The aspiring greatest under heaven, Yi Jinpyeong.
Debuting to buy meat.