The Yeon Bloodline
At that very hour.
The Luoyang Sword Family, special-grade closed-door training grounds.
“That child simply walked out—what in heaven’s name happened?!”
A single shout, heavy with profound internal qi, ricocheted between the twin cliffs and thundered through the air.
“I beg your forgiveness!”
The Training Hall Master was on her knees, forehead pressed to the floor.
“Do I look as though I want the apologies of the likes of you?!”
The middle-aged woman stamped her foot. The paving stones beneath her shattered.
So exquisite was her control that the shock remained confined to her immediate surroundings; not a single structure of the closed-door compound suffered damage. Even in the extremity of her rage she drew a clear line of restraint—proof that the woman had long since reached a realm of the heart as well as of martial skill.
“W-we have already sent people in every direction to search for the Second Young Mistress. Word should reach us any moment—”
The middle-aged woman gave a savage snort of laughter.
“When that child decides to move, do you truly believe the rabble you can muster will catch even her shadow?”
“….”
It was the truth. The Training Hall Master bit her lip and could only bow lower.
“Has your pride been wounded, is that it?”
The middle-aged woman clicked her tongue at the sight.
“I entrusted a heavy duty to one of the Yeon bloodline while she was still young. And yet you could not even perform the simple task of keeping that child here.”
“I have no face left to show.”
The moment the Second Young Mistress left the grounds, the Training Hall Master had reported the matter at once to the woman before her—the Guard Pavilion Master. Had she delayed the report in some vain attempt to resolve the situation herself, her shared Yeon blood would have offered no shield whatsoever.
“You will put this place in order so that it is ready when the child returns.”
The Guard Pavilion Master’s eyes burned as she spoke.
“Next time, if you must kidnap a sparring partner interesting enough to hold her attention, do so—just keep her here. Do you understand?!”
The Training Hall Master smashed her forehead against the paving stones.
“Yes! Pavilion Master!”
Watching the blood trickle across the stone, the Guard Pavilion Master said,
“Remember this well. Failure unworthy of the Yeon bloodline—I will not tolerate it a second time.”
“Yes! I receive your command!”
The Training Hall Master answered while still driving her head against the hard stone, but her superior had already turned and was walking away.
“Seo-rin… just what are you thinking?”
Guard Pavilion Master of the Luoyang Sword Family, master of Heavenly Robe Without Seams Yeon Seo-rin, and elder sister of the presently unconscious Grand Family Head—Yeon Ju-tae clicked her tongue.
“No matter what foolish notions you may entertain, in the end you will have no choice but to accept the destiny you were born to.”
“So you mean to tell me you have not the faintest idea?”
Even under the Training Hall Master’s assistant’s merciless grilling, the Second Young Mistress’s personal maids merely shrugged.
“As we have stated repeatedly, our young mistress was in the middle of her evening meal when she suddenly bolted out.”
“As we have stated repeatedly, we tried to stop her—but how could the likes of us hope to restrain our young mistress?”
“Even the training-ground martial artists could not last a single gak against her, could they?”
“What exactly were we supposed to do?”
Those martial artists were even now receiving treatment for their injuries. Because the compound was equipped with every possible support for the highest grade of closed-door cultivation, their wounds had been tended with remarkable speed.
“If even the slightest falsehood or concealment is later discovered in your words…”
The assistant narrowed his eyes.
“It will not be me you face. You will taste the Guard Pavilion Master’s wrath yourselves.”
The Second Young Mistress’s personal maids did not so much as change color as they answered brazenly,
“By all means.”
“Please do.”
He left. Once his footsteps had faded and they had confirmed they were alone, one of the maids let out a sigh.
“You… you deliberately let something slip about the First Young Master, didn’t you? How in the world do you plan to clean this up later?”
The maid who had “accidentally” mentioned the First Young Master crossed her legs and sat down.
“We are not the Training Hall Master’s maids, nor the Guard Pavilion Master’s maids, nor the maids of that damnable Yeon bloodline.”
“…True enough.”
She gazed out the window toward the distant darkness.
“We are our young mistress’s personal maids.”
This luxurious closed-door training ground wedged between cliffs had never felt so stifling.
Wongak Pavilion of the Luoyang Sword Family.
The personnel of the Emei Sect had no means of withstanding Yeon Seo-rin’s pressure.
“…We withdraw.”
At the words of the Emei disciplinarian nun, the remaining nuns moved toward their horses and carriages.
“Hmm. A pity. I’d heard Emei’s swordsmanship was so fierce.”
“….”
The disciplinarian’s face twitched at the Second Young Mistress’s casual murmur behind her, yet what could she do? Here there was no martial artist who could match a Second Young Mistress who had crossed the wall, nor was the Grand Abbess present to leverage seniority.
Amid the jeers pouring down upon the Emei Sect, a Daseonrang carriage opened and the self-defense instructor who had been riding with them stepped down.
“….”
She stood motionless, drinking in the sight of the Second Young Mistress, until the disciplinarian’s furious shout snapped her out of it.
“What are you standing around gawking for?!”
“Ah—ah! Forgive me!”
She scrambled into an Emei carriage, and the entire procession fled the street as though in full retreat.
Having completely lost interest in the departing Emei, the Second Young Mistress turned to the crowd and bellowed,
“Quiet, all of you! Do you have any idea where you are, raising such a racket?! The rest of you clear off as well!”
Her scolding rang out clear and bracing.
“Come, come, let’s be on our way.”
“We never did get a look at Daseonrang.”
“Still, we saw the Second Young Mistress, didn’t we?”
Her words were as good as a command, yet not a single person in the throng showed the least displeasure. Such was the unique temperament Yeon Seo-rin possessed.
Once everyone had scattered to their own paths, a welcome voice rose from the direction of Wongak Pavilion’s main gate.
“Elder Sister. What brings those heavy footsteps of yours all the way here?”
Hearing her younger brother’s voice after so very long, she turned with a radiant smile.
“Ha!”
Yeon So-hyeon, emerging from the main gate, wore his characteristic smile and stood with arms folded, gazing at his elder sister.
Looking back at him, Yeon Seo-rin said,
“So-hyeon, you’re still as tiny as ever.”
Those were the first words of greeting the elder sister offered her younger brother after years of separation.
Wongak Pavilion garden.
The sun had completely vanished; a full moon rose bright and clear in the darkness.
Save for the chirping of insects in the grass, nothing stood between brother and sister.
“I heard you have distinguished guests. Is it really all right to leave them waiting while you idle in small talk with this sister of yours?”
“It is fine.”
Yeon So-hyeon smiled at her words.
“They will be resting off the fatigue of their long journey. You need not worry on their account.”
“You little—!”
Yeon Seo-rin strode forward and roughly ruffled his hair.
“Couldn’t you at least pretend this sister is more important? I raced here the moment I heard news of you—now I feel a fool for it.”
Yeon So-hyeon laughed, a clear, bright sound.
“That is merely their situation. How could I ever compare my irreplaceable Second Sister to anything else in the world?”
“This brat. That tongue of yours still flows like a mountain stream.”
“Hahaha.”
“You could have at least grown a little taller in the meantime.”
Wearing an expression of mock irritation, Yeon Seo-rin tousled the hair of her brother—who stood a full hand-span shorter—even more roughly.
“Well then. Have you seen the other children?”
“I met Bi, but…”
Yeon So-hyeon gave a bitter smile.
“You know better than anyone, Elder Sister. In this family now, even blood kin cannot meet freely.”
At those words Yeon Seo-rin fell silent for a moment.
“…Yes. That’s true.”
Her sigh-laden reply drifted away with the scattering petals.
“…To think that in this damned family we will end up watching brothers and sisters turn blades on one another.”
Yeon So-hyeon smiled a smile that smelled of grass.
“Do not worry. Even if blood is shed, none of it will stain your hands.”
“What is that supposed to mean?!”
Startled by words so steeped in the scent of blood that they clashed with his gentle smile, Yeon Seo-rin burst out.
“Are you saying this sister of yours is that untrustworthy?!”
She gave his back a solid thump.
“I am the Heavenly Robe Without Seams whose name resounds through the entire jianghu!”
Authority poured naturally from her words—yet it had never worked on Yeon So-hyeon.
Just as in the old days.
“…There is no need to overextend yourself. I know your position well.”
“….”
After studying him for a moment, Yeon Seo-rin let out a long breath.
“Damn it.”
She sank down onto the garden lawn and looked up at the night sky.
Yeon So-hyeon sat silently beside her.
“…This Wongak Pavilion is still so beautiful.”
Moonlight shattered like jewels across the lake; the garden flowers, blooming in riotous abundance, quietly bowed their heads to the spring breeze.
“The family has changed so much from the days when our Fairy Mother was still alive…”
“Fairy Mother” was the affectionate, reverent name Yeon Seo-rin used for Yak So-yu.
“We can never go back to those times.”
“….”
Deep longing colored her voice.
“So-hyeon.”
“Yes, Elder Sister.”
Gazing at the heavens, she said,
“I’m a blockhead, you know.”
“….”
When Yeon So-hyeon offered no reply, she turned to him with a mischievous smile.
“When we were little you were the first one to tease me for being stupid.”
Yeon So-hyeon smiled faintly.
“Now that Elder Sister understands herself so well, what more could I possibly add?”
“You really never let a single line go unanswered.”
Yeon Seo-rin laughed softly.
Yeon So-hyeon simply waited for her to continue.
“No matter how hard I try, with this rock of a head I can’t change a single thing.”
“….”
The darkness blanketing this vast family was as deep as its scale was immense—tight enough to choke even the freest and most honorable of martial artists.
“The fact that you broke your seclusion means a storm is about to sweep through and scour this filthy family clean.”
“…I will spare whatever can be spared as we go.”
Any weakening of the Luoyang Sword Family’s power would mean the collapse of the precarious peace among the factions of the Central Plains.
In the gently flowing silence Yeon Seo-rin ordered her thoughts.
Silence was usually awkward, yet the silence between this brother and sister was only comfortable and soft.
“…Yes. From the old days you were always the sort who, when you said you would do something, did it.”
She rose to her feet.
“You’ve grown a great deal, So-hyeon. You’ve become imposing. I could call you a true man now without any shame.”
Yeon So-hyeon pouted.
“…Just a moment ago you were still teasing me for being small.”
Yeon Seo-rin gave a bitter smile.
“Brat. There’s no need to put on a childhood act for my sake.”
At those words Yeon So-hyeon slowly let the smile fall from his face.
With the laughter gone, his features beneath the moonlight looked like those of an entirely different person.
“….”
Her gaze settled on him.
“You’ve grown truly terrifying. At first I almost didn’t recognize you.”
Yeon So-hyeon merely regarded the night sky with a calm expression.
“…Now I am certain. What I thought from the time we were children was right.”
She nodded slowly.
“No matter what anyone else says, the one who inherited Father’s blood most clearly—was always you, So-hyeon.”