Chapter 9
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: Meeting the Patriarch
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Seo Mun Clan was as it always had been.
Even in the inner courtyard stood Hwa Young Hall, a grand structure rivaling the size of the Patriarch's quarters. It was where the clan's direct descendants resided, and the pavilion attached to the annex exuded its usual peace.
"So, like, Third Brother told me..."
Having finished breakfast, three women sipped their tea.
The faint sounds of birdsong and flowing water filled the air.
A soft breeze joined in, enveloping the quiet interior and exterior of Hwa Young Hall.
Clink.
One woman abruptly set down her teacup.
"Can't you stop that, Young-ryeong?"
The woman had a frosty expression sharp as icicles. Her stern, rigid demeanor toward her daughter revealed Jo Young-mi's temperament.
"You're a grown woman now. How long do you plan to keep acting spoiled like a child?"
"I'm sorry, Mother..."
Seo Mun Young-ryeong drooped her head dejectedly.
"Don't scold her too harshly, Young-mi. Young-ryeong looks best when she's bright and cheerful."
Unable to bear it any longer, Im So-young stepped in to mediate between mother and daughter. The two matriarchs of Seo Mun Clan—she was the picture of gentleness, her warm smile a stark contrast to Jo Young-mi.
"She's always been affectionate with everyone, without discrimination."
"Speaking of which, I'm worried Young-ryeong might end up like that child, running wild without a care for day or night."
Jo Young-mi's foul mood stemmed from none other than Seo Mun-ha.
His frivolous speech and behavior were one thing, but seeing Young-ryeong, who was growing ever closer to him, grated on her nerves.
"Third Brother is...!"
"Enough. That's it."
She bristled even at the mere mention of him. Jo Young-mi had no choice but to react this way. Despite all her admonishments, Young-ryeong refused to listen, and lately, his name spilled from her lips at every turn.
"Don't you know how embarrassing it is? Do you have any idea what people in the clan are saying? I've let you be until now, whether practicing martial arts or whatever, but this is too far."
Young-ryeong was the only daughter among the direct descendants.
Thus, the covert power struggles held no relevance to her, and having been pampered from birth, Jo Young-mi had no choice but to be even stricter.
Her dedication to martial arts. Her appointment as vice commander of Black Wind Unit, made up of collateral disciples.
None of it sat well, but Young-ryeong's young age and exceptional achievements had earned her some leeway.
But lately, doubts had arisen about those achievements—thanks to Seo Mun-ha, who had received only the most basic instruction in martial arts long ago.
"At least hold back until your brother returns."
"Go back to your quarters. I'll convince your mother for you, so don't worry."
Young-ryeong forced a smile.
"Yes..."
Her face was listless.
"Dear Mothers, I'll take my leave first."
As soon as Young-ryeong vanished, a chill wind seemed to blow through.
The deserted Hwa Young Hall felt all the more empty with its children away on missions, devoid of any familial warmth among the few present.
"The more Elder Sister protects her, the worse influence it has on Young-ryeong."
"Young-ryeong's still just a child."
"They're only two years apart. Same with that Baek Ri Clan girl. And just one year with Sang-i. My son is already helping with clan affairs and pulling his weight, but we can't indulge her forever."
Im So-young and Jo Young-mi.
Hailing from northern Hebei's Chuso Escort Agency and Anhui's Jo Merchant Group, respectively, their fates were ironically intertwined.
The escort agency and merchant group had been symbiotic partners, destined to be close allies—until their ambitious children turned their relationship frigid for the past decade.
Even with the young lord and heir apparent positions, their face time dwindled inevitably.
Those three children were their blood, after all. Amid the escalating unseen rivalry, breakfast together owed much to Seo Mun Young-ryeong's presence.
And one more thing: Seo Mun-ha.
"Big trouble, Front Hall Mistress!"
A guard burst in panting, seeking Im So-young.
"What is it, Guard Ga?"
Not "madam," but "Front Hall Mistress"—a formal address fitting her real authority, signaling an internal yet official matter.
"An elders' meeting has been called!"
"..."
"Third Young Master has finally stirred up real trouble!"
The two wives of Seo Mun Clan stared at each other, dumbfounded.
An elders' meeting wasn't anything extraordinary in itself.
The clan's core was the Patriarch, who held all authority.
In other words, the meeting proceeded at his behest—to consult various direct and collateral members. The spacious hall was filled with over a hundred figures.
Matters too difficult for the Patriarch alone.
Though such meetings on major and minor issues occurred frequently, it was rare for so many key clan members to gather like this.
People who had left the clan and the world behind.
Even those rarely seen within the compound had assembled.
"Hahaha! I knew it! Of course!"
Not everyone among the hundred had speaking rights, however.
Across inner and outer courtyards, there were thirty-seven halls, divisions, and pavilions.
Their leaders—hall masters, division heads, pavilion chiefs—had brought their vice commanders, while executive captains and squad leaders sat silently. No one dared speak rashly.
"A tiger's cub is still a tiger in the end."
"Even a toothless tiger biting a great hound is cause for concern, no?"
Seo Mun Clan was a martial clan. The merits of those who built its foundation, legends of their era, commanded unparalleled respect.
The atmosphere was suffocating.
Everyone yearned to escape, but today's proceedings deviated from the usual format.
'That's the Flowing Cloud Divine Sword...'.
An unspoken solemnity hung in the air.
Normally, grievances and complaints would dominate once an agenda arose, but now all was quiet.
'And that one...'.
Gazing upon figures so elusive, attendees felt transported back to their childhoods, transcending years.
"...Hm."
Conversely, the eldest sat opposite the Patriarch, weathered by the longest years.
"All this fuss over teaching a few riffraff a lesson?"
The former Patriarch of the clan.
"Never mind the officials—the Hwang Bo Clan is involved."
U Chong-gwan spoke respectfully, assisting at the meeting's center beside Seo Mun Jeong-cheon.
"Since when has our house bowed to the Hwang Bo's gaze?"
"The world's changed. Circumstances too."
"Yet you're the same as ever."
"We can't ignore public scrutiny now. Full-scale war is premature."
The righteous factions' squabbles over pretexts eluded the aged Seo Mun-gyeol.
Crushing Plum Sword Gang, clashing with Golden Tiger Merchant Group, and finally facing Hwang Bo Clan—opponents deserved no less than total confrontation.
Until one side yielded.
"You've grown soft in peace."
Raw force trumped invisible pretexts for clarity.
"We're not unorthodox. Nor is Hwang Bo Clan."
"Don't take U Chong-gwan's words too much to heart."
Seo Mun Jeong-cheon, who had listened quietly, finally spoke. He bridged divergent thoughts, harmonizing opinions.
"I understand Grandfather, Uncle, and the elders' wisdom."
Despite the august assembly, the core boiled down to two paths.
Confront or yield.
The outcome was all but decided, explaining the elders' boredom with the fox-like posturing.
Thus, the conclusion was simple, yet discussion dragged on.
No choice incurred trivial losses; hypotheticals and options flew amid contingencies.
"..."
As ifs and maybes intertwined over endless time, Seo Mun-ha maintained silence.
Suddenly, father and son's eyes met.
Four months since last seeing parent and child.
For the current Seo Mun-ha, it was his first true glimpse of his father's face.
"Do you have something to say?"
Silence descended instantly.
The hall had been sparsely vocal already. Everyone knew their strained bond; dead quiet rippled through the corridor.
"Of course, we can't overlook the principal's thoughts!"
The tactless uncle, Seo Mun Jeong-cheon's, drew glares.
"Ahem!"
As he awkwardly shut up, Seo Mun-ha, granted the floor, smiled.
"I have a question."
His bold, potentially insolent demeanor stunned onlookers.
The old him couldn't have met the Patriarch's eyes; tension simmered amid puzzled stares.
"What are the Six Great Clans?"
"What are you getting at?"
In their first exchange, the once Yi Mok-yeom showed no intimidation before his father.
"I asked some passing retainers—every one called it our house's aspiration. Isn't this gathering, this moment, this debate all toward elevating us to the Six Great Clans' ranks?"
"..."
"I wondered why, and just how grand it is."
"Insolent. Having fed only on the clan's grace, you dare doubt our forebears' efforts and insult their will?"
"Just curious."
It was genuine.
"What exactly are the Six Great Clans? Power? Fame?"
Compared to these men, Yi Mok-yeom knew little of the martial world. Despite some misconceptions, he pressed on.
Vast estates, ornate halls, peerless arts, mighty warriors, worldly acclaim, dignity and prestige...
"Which is most important?"
"All of them."
Seo Mun Jeong-cheon stated flatly.
"I see."
The Six Great Clans weren't bestowed titles or offices but a symbol.
Seeing his acceptance, Seo Mun Jeong-cheon asked.
"Why did you do it?"
Stern yet soft, as father and Patriarch.
"I know you're no fool. Smearing the clan's face with your tantrums..."
A delinquent, yet he'd never crossed true lines. Nor lacked talent. Setting aside personal prowess, he could command men—his antics mere childish pranks, incapable of true malice.
"I heard you've taken up martial arts. Arrogant from some meager gains?"
The once-childish Seo Mun-ha had suddenly surpassed norms.
Thus the probe: mere impulse, or a shift in heart? If so, by what basis, and how?
"You insulted our house. From its inner chambers."
"...Is that all?"
"Yes."
"Good."
Murmurs erupted instantly; such provocative words from Seo Mun Jeong-cheon.
"As Great-uncle said, a tiger's even toothless still a tiger. Retreating without a fight when great hounds or mountain beasts invade my territory? Unthinkable."
Beside him, Seo Mun-ha's uncle Seo Mun Jeong-ryong nodded vigorously.
"Yet that makes me question your true intent all the more. If riding the clan's prestige as before, you won't escape responsibility."
"I'll take responsibility."
"How?"
"I'll handle it. Plum Sword Gang, Golden Tiger Merchant Group, and even Hwang Bo Clan."
A beat late, a roar came.
"Nonsense!"
From Seo Mun Jeong-ryong.
"Take it back! The martial world is harsher than you think, boy! Hurry to the Patriarch and..."
"Very well."
Too late—the protracted meeting veered unexpectedly, leaving the stunned Seo Mun Jeong-ryong behind.
"Let's see you handle it."
In a single instant.
"The clan will not intervene."
"Understood."
Seo Mun-ha's gaze never wavered.
Sudden laughter rang out.
"Amusing."
To Seo Mun-ha, his great-grandfather Seo Mun-gyeol. By age and detachment from the world, he shouldn't even be here.
"You said 'ha'?"
"Yes."
"I've gained a small insight lately. Care to learn?"
Before shock engulfed the hall, Seo Mun-ha replied.
"Thank you, but no."
A polite refusal. Shock piled atop shock.
"I can serve only one master."
Then or now, one teacher sufficed for him.
"A teacher? News to me. From the clan?"
Brief grilling on clan law violations.
"The Patriarch wishes to know my true intent."
Seo Mun Jeong-cheon watched his departing delinquent son with a complicated expression.
"I..."