The Time of Endurance
After Mother passed away.
How much time had gone by?
On a spring day when cherry blossom petals drifted down like soft, hazy snow, I met that child for the first time.
"So-hyeon… This child is to be your betrothed."
The girl who had come with Father showed no shyness at all. She looked straight at me with eyes that held the gentle warmth of spring sunlight.
"It is a pleasure to meet you. This humble girl is Moyong Un-jeong."
She had cheeks flushed like peach blossoms and a composed smile far too steady for her years.
Standing upon a hill where not even a single footfall could be heard, the Eldest Young Master Yeon So-hyeon stood as he always did—hands clasped behind his back—gazing up at the sky.
Summer clouds drifting over the mountain ranges of northern Luoyang tore and split, scattering into fragments before gathering once more, rising high into a shape that mirrored the peaks themselves.
Cumulonimbus.
"Husband."
One day she came to find him during his seclusion. Moyong Un-jeong had grown tall and fresh, yet the cold winds of the North had left her cheeks still faintly flushed like those same peach blossoms of childhood.
"I would like to hear you play."
Father had collapsed. The clan was rotting day by day amid the malice of those who had bared their dark ambitions in the chaos.
And yet the fingers that played the flute danced as lightly as the cherry petals of that day. His breath, thin enough that it seemed it might break at any moment, somehow continued in perfect ease. Amid the scenery of Wongak-jeong, cut off from everything, the notes danced with exquisite grace.
Suddenly it felt too easy—and that ease filled him with sorrow.
"…"
"Husband. It is all right."
To him, clutching Mother’s flute and shedding tears, Un-jeong had said those words.
"Even if it is not all right now… in time, everything will be all right."
What was all right? What would become all right? She knew nothing of his fate. She had never truly seen the things he saw. And yet she spoke as though she understood.
But—
"…I see."
Because that child said it was all right. Because she said everything would be all right. A quiet corner of his heart grew as still as a tranquil pond, as peaceful as a murmuring stream, and he found himself feeling relief.
Rumble.
A low roll of thunder, and a raindrop fell into the eye of Yeon So-hyeon as he looked up at the sky. The cumulonimbus had begun to pour.
The heavens darkened as if by some cruel joke. The highlands beneath the storm clouds grew damp at once, and the scent of rain—laden with grass and earth—spread far and wide.
Yeon So-hyeon stood beneath the thickening rain, unmoving, as though nails had pinned him in place, still gazing upward.
By the arrangements Father had left for his eldest son, he had been able to avoid the bloodstorm of succession that would soon rage through Luoyang and live as a son-in-law of the Moyong Clan. But the winters of the North were merciless.
"…Wife."
Seated beneath a lamp, flipping aimlessly through pages that would not enter his eyes, he finally forced the words out.
"I have heard the situation in these northern lands is growing worse."
He hesitated again.
"…If things become untenable, it may be better that I step forward."
News had arrived late at night. Un-jeong, already donning her armor for the campaign, turned to look at him, and he hurried on.
"If a mere son-in-law such as I takes the field, there will be those who point fingers at you, the clan head. So if I simply offer counsel from the shadows…"
Even as he rambled, he mocked himself.
Counsel?
Fine enough. But he knew better than anyone what the result would be.
Cheonsal-seong—the Heavenly Killing Star.
After the blood history of the main house, the seal bought with Mother’s life had weakened sharply. That fragile seal would be torn to shreds without a trace by the bloodstorm that counsel would unleash.
And if that happened, he would be discarding Mother’s will and Father’s heart alike.
"Husband."
She turned to him still clad in that cold armor, yet somehow managed a smile so gentle.
"It is all right."
After their marriage, when she had come to know everything, she spoke to him as steadily and valiantly as ever.
"Everything will be all right."
Un-jeong removed her iron-scented gauntlets and took his hands firmly in both of hers.
Ordinarily he felt ashamed that his hands—soft from nothing but turning pages—were so unlike her own, roughened by weapons. But in that moment, how warm those rough hands felt.
"I will make everything all right."
And how cold his own hands remained.
"When I return, Husband, play for me as you always do."
He remembered it all.
The rain grew fierce. Wind and water screamed through the mountain passes, so violent that an ordinary man could scarcely keep his eyes open. The Heukjamsa coat draped over Yeon So-hyeon’s shoulders flapped as though it might tear free, yet he remained where he stood, staring up at the writhing black clouds.
…I.
When I returned to this era, the first thing I wanted…
Un-jeong—I wanted to go to you.
Those nights sitting beside her as she read reports into the small hours, sharing snacks and books. Those days when, as a sovereign, she held a crumbling clan together with her entire body, yet never once spoke a single harsh word to him. The nights they shared wine that held the rising moon, and he played the flute for her.
I have not forgotten even the smallest fragment of those memories.
Yeon So-hyeon’s unnatural memory held every moment vivid and complete.
But he knew better than anyone that he must not go to her yet.
If he abandoned the Luoyang Sword House without any preparation, the same ending as before would await. As Eldest Young Master of the Sword House, he had to keep alive the final spark that might regenerate the declining clan, and pour every effort he could into the dying poor of Luoyang.
"I am simply astonished."
"My lord is securing power at a truly staggering pace."
"In the entire history of the Central Plains, no one has ever established themselves so swiftly after so long a seclusion."
Those around him spoke of his actions since emerging from seclusion in such terms. Yet to Yeon So-hyeon, everything was still—
Too slow.
He did not blink once against the raging storm.
Even every achievement that had left others in repeated awe was—
Not enough.
To Yeon So-hyeon it had been an eternity—long, grinding years of endurance.
As he gazed up at the black sky, every moment since the end of his seclusion rose vividly before his eyes. His heart burned hot like Mother’s loving heart. His mind was cold and sharp as the tip of Father’s sword.
He did only what was necessary. He never did even the slightest thing that must not be done. Carefully, yet without gaps. Swiftly, yet without error. He protected what was precious.
And at last—
Yeon So-hyeon, Eldest Young Master, shall restore order to the chaos and lawlessness of the northern territories! Eliminate every source of trouble, and set upright once more the dignity and discipline of the Empire!
The time had come.
From afar, riding the mountains and hills, came the shouts of men. Buried beneath the storm, the words were unclear, yet Yeon So-hyeon’s head at last moved. He looked down upon them in the distance.
A procession of armored carriages bearing the clear crest of the Luoyang Sword House. In the suddenly worsened weather they had all climbed down and were struggling desperately.
"…They have arrived."
Those he had been waiting for were here. He slipped a hand into the thoroughly soaked folds of his coat.
"It is impossible!"
The door of an armored carriage flew open and the fierce wind and rain slammed inside.
"In this road condition the armored carriages cannot move!"
The already rough mountain path had turned to mire under the torrential downpour.
"Several carriages already have wheels stuck in the mud!"
Even the rain cloak he wore was useless; the subordinate looked like a drowned rat. Behind him, dozens of men could be glimpsed shouting as they tried to free the bogged carriages amid the storm.
"…Understood."
The subordinate, using even inner power, heaved the storm-blown door shut with difficulty.
"Damn it."
One of the military officers of the Third Young Master’s faction who shared the carriage wiped his face—soaked in that brief moment—and spat a curse.
"We are completely stranded."
Watching him, the master of the procession, Jegal Dae-gunsa, clicked his tongue softly.
"This region has always been high ground; the weather has been capricious since ancient times."
He gave his white feather fan a single wave and continued.
"In any case, the Eldest Young Master will likewise be stranded by this weather, just as we are."
At his words the officers spread out the map they had moved aside to avoid the rain.
"According to the last report, the Eldest Young Master’s carriage passed this point in the mountains."
They pointed here and there on the map.
"There is a small village near here. He is likely to remain until the storm passes."
"The rear detachment will probably join him there as well."
"In that case…"
The officers looked to Jegal Dae-gunsa as if seeking agreement.
"Yes."
Jegal Dae-gunsa nodded.
"The brief window before the Eldest Young Master’s rear detachment joins him is our only chance."
The officers nodded with grim faces.
"…The masters accompanying us are fully prepared."
"However high the Eldest Young Master’s realm may be, he cannot withstand numbers of this magnitude."
From the beginning, Jegal Dae-gunsa had never intended to quietly follow the Eldest Young Master all the way to the North.
"The moment his location is confirmed, we execute the operation."
The atmosphere inside the carriage grew heavier still.
"Jegal Dae-gunsa."
A cautious officer asked one last time.
"If the Eldest Young Master disappears, even if the culprit is never found, the repercussions will be enormous. The aftermath will become completely unpredictable."
He chose his next words carefully.
"We are still sufficiently advantageous. To take such an extreme measure in this situation is…"
Another officer who had been watching the mood cut in.
"At the very least we should consult Sama Dae-gunsa—"
"No."
Jegal Dae-gunsa shook his head firmly.
"The Eldest Young Master must be cut down here."
That was his conclusion.
"And an opportunity when he is this isolated will not come again."
His gaze swept the officers.
"Prepare to begin the operation."
Confirming that Jegal Dae-gunsa’s will was absolute, the officers rose and headed out of the carriage. When the last of them had gone and the door slammed shut—
"…Strategy can be wrung from a man’s mind, but luck is bestowed by Heaven."
Everyone was underestimating the danger of the Eldest Young Master.
Call him mad if they wished. Only he truly sensed the peril still hidden beneath the surface of the water.
"…When an opportunity is given,"
Jegal Dae-gunsa leaned his head back against the seat and exhaled the words with a sigh,
"one must seize it."
And then, at his ear, from within a carriage that should have been empty, a reply came.
"Well said, Jegal Dae-gunsa."
"…?!"
The voice continued into the ear of the violently startled advisor.
"But you were too hasty."
Jegal Dae-gunsa slowly lowered his stiffened head. In the opposite seat sat the shadow of a figure. In the brief flash of lightning he saw the face.
"…Eldest Young Master?"
In the darkness, thoroughly soaked Yeon So-hyeon dripped water as he smiled at him.
"In your haste, you overlooked the possibility that this opportunity might not belong to you alone."
Nearby, a bolt of lightning crashed down with a deafening roar.