Yangyang Martial Hall (1)
My birthday banquet had come to a close.
A great many people had come to celebrate my birthday, and I, in turn, had diligently expressed my gratitude to each of them.
This year's gathering stood out for the number of guests who brought their daughters rather than their sons.
The reason was so obvious that I swallowed bitter smiles throughout the entire event.
Unlike my brothers, I had no intention of marrying anytime soon.
The path I walked was anything but ordinary.
They call a spouse one's lifelong companion for a reason. It means pairing up to journey through life together.
Just as chopsticks must come in pairs to serve their purpose, and shoes in pairs to fulfill theirs, a husband and wife must tread life's road side by side.
Be it a path of flowers or one strewn with thorns.
That said, I couldn't very well force some unrelated soul to share such a fateful road with me.
Having wrapped up the birthday banquet on a high note, I threw myself into work as the biting winter winds began to howl.
It was already the twelfth month, so perhaps it was to be expected, but this year felt exceptionally harsh compared to the last.
If even relatively mild Hubei Province was like this, the northern regions must be utterly unbearable.
I worried for the guests who'd come from up there—hoping they'd made it home safely.
As return gifts for those who'd attended my birthday banquet, I'd presented fox furs.
They were rabbit pelts, but still quite costly in their own right.
Some might call it extravagant, but there was method to my madness.
This winter—and for several to come—would be so brutal that without fur garments or accessories, survival would be a trial.
I hoped that, donning clothes made from my gifts, they'd think of the Eunhae Merchant Group's hides.
And rightly so, for the North Sea hunters' skill with leather was truly exceptional.
I could almost hear the silver piling up in the merchant group's vaults already.
Ah...
Come to think of it, in my previous life, the cold had delayed my official inauguration as branch manager until the following year.
My birthday fell in the eleventh month, so the ceremony had been slated for the twelfth.
But an unexpected cold snap pushed it to spring the next year, and a cascade of incidents kept delaying it all the way to autumn.
Of course, the lack of a formal ceremony didn't stop me from doing the work—I'd started my duties right on schedule in the twelfth month.
Yet the actual event, when it finally happened, had been a somber affair.
A sudden poor harvest had thinned the crowds, and the alcohol ban meant the banquet went dry.
The year after? Jeong Ho hyung's wedding had been equally subdued.
That's why Jin-ho hyung had rushed his marriage before the liquor prohibition came down.
All things considered, this spring felt perfect.
To make it so, though, I'd have to avert the disasters set to unfold then.
Mulling over future plans as I strolled the merchant group grounds, I overheard the voices of the Silver Wind Corps warriors.
"Hey? Isn't that the Tiger-Slaying Spear Hero over there?"
"No doubt! I've always thought he was no ordinary fellow."
"Did you see the spirit beast our second young branch manager captured?"
"I did! That was the biggest tiger I've ever laid eyes on!"
Grinning at their chatter, I approached.
There, in the training yard, Jin-ho hyung was diligently practicing.
Thanks to slaying the blood-clan tiger, he'd earned the moniker Tiger-Slaying Spear Hero.
A title that, in my previous life, a cowardly division leader of the Murim Alliance had claimed through trickery—now proudly seized by Jin-ho hyung in this one.
Moreover, he'd clearly gained some insight from the battle, redoubling his training efforts.
Not that he neglected his visits to Ha sojeo, of course.
These days, Jin-ho hyung was positively beaming.
I'd gifted him Heavenly Fragrance Dew Liquor to cure Ha sojeo's triple yin meridian blockage, and they'd formally pledged marriage.
Jin-ho hyung had delivered the liquor personally to Elder Black Crimson Physician, who was reportedly stunned.
I wished I could've seen that rare expression on the elder—such shock was an exceedingly precious sight.
The blood-clan tiger's corpse had gone to Elder Pure Crimson Physician for research, netting Jin-ho hyung a tidy side profit.
Wonder what he'll spend it on.
He wasn't slacking on merchant group duties either, squeezing in time for Ha sojeo amid fervent spear practice.
Watching him swing his spear with such vigor, I muttered,
"Just when does Jin-ho hyung sleep?"
Palgap tilted his head, so I explained my thought.
But upon hearing me out, he gave me a peculiar look.
"Why stare like that?"
"That's a question the young master should put not to Jin-ho young master, but to himself—with hands clasped over his heart, sir."
"......"
He had a point.
Even so, winter's lull gave me time for these walks.
Sales of sail-wing carts all but halted, easing the workload.
The spots I checked during these rare respites were the warehouses on the merchant group grounds.
My great-grandfather had bought a vast plot for them when expanding the business—a purchase that baffled everyone given the scale back then.
Why not build more shops or invest in trade capital instead?
Yet he'd stubbornly stuck to his vision.
Thanks to that foresight, I could erect over thirty warehouses without raising eyebrows.
Did great-grandfather have prophetic insight?
I owed him much.
Those warehouses stored grain.
In times of rebellion, defending remote depots—especially those with food—would prove difficult.
Over time, I'd traded Heavenly Fragrance Dew Liquor with Min Jangju for stockpiles, plus purchases from my own earnings.
This year's bumper crop had filled them far beyond past hauls.
More kept coming in.
Might need a few extra warehouses.
Speaking of which, seeing the official notice in Hyeoncheong about the state buying up grain suggested the Emperor had heeded my advice via Grand Secretary Hwang Bonji.
With preparations like these, the chaos of my previous life shouldn't repeat on that scale.
.
.
.
As usual, I rose at dawn for breath regulation and meditation, then greeted Master on time to begin training.
The new Snow Soul Sword Technique he taught felt peculiar.
For one, it had but a single form.
So I repeated that same form daily.
Yet I sensed it surpassed even the True Twelve Forms Sword Technique in refinement, thanks to the profound subtlety in each motion comprising it.
Each could stand alone as a form.
Its oddity wasn't just the singularity, though.
The training method was unique.
The form's execution varied by circumstance.
One day on a log barely wide enough for a man; another on a tightrope like a wandering acrobat's.
In rain, amid downpour; or waist-deep in a mud pit of watered yellow earth.
Through it all, the form's essence shifted with the environment.
As if changing hue to match.
When I mentioned this to Master, he seemed genuinely surprised.
"To notice that already! Your perception exceeds my expectations."
"So what I felt was correct?"
"Indeed. The Snow Soul Sword Technique is designed for diverse scenarios. The Snow Wind Palace's arts originated in snowy wastes, but the Central Plains vary wildly—and snowless places abound."
"I see."
"I had my doubts at first, but your ancestor's insights confirmed it for me."
So this eccentric regimen stemmed from Master's study of my ancestor's notes—exposing me to myriad conditions to grasp the truth.
A bit unusual, but with Master's elevated realm, I trusted and followed.
Recalling that exchange, I assumed the form's stance.
Tok.
Hm?
Something landed on my shoulder.
Snow?
"The first snow of the season."
"So it is. Later than usual this year."
"Perfect timing, then. Try the form now, amid the flurry. You'll understand why it's called the Snow Soul."
I drew a deep breath, sword aimed forward, and slowly unfolded the form.
Aha!
I felt it.
The drifting flakes empowered my blade. Snow from all directions bolstered me as I executed the Snow Soul Sword Technique.
Ensuring endless endurance.
The snow became me, and I the snow.
A versatile art for any situation, yet unmistakably Snow Wind Palace in essence.
Sheathing my sword upon completion, I said to Master,
"I think I understand what you meant."
He nodded approvingly.
Still, first snow only now...
This year had scant snowfall.
Memory served: several years of lighter-than-normal snow. Could this herald the famine?
.
.
.
Training concluded.
"Well done. That's enough for today."
"My thanks for your guidance."
But Master's expression had seemed troubled since earlier.
His face rarely betrayed emotion.
Two lifetimes together, though, let me read the signs of worry.
I considered ignoring it, but such gravity hinted at Snow Wind Palace matters.
As a disciple, I couldn't turn a blind eye.
Sigh. My nosiness.
Though merchants like me—dreaming of the world's greatest trading house—were nosy by nature.
"Master."
"Yes?"
"You seem preoccupied."
He flinched slightly, touching his face.
"Was it that obvious? My cultivation is still lacking."
"No, others wouldn't notice."
I grinned and continued,
"I've just grown attuned to your expressions from constant watchfulness."
"My expressions?"
"Isn't it a disciple's duty to read his master's face?"
"......"
He gazed at me wordlessly, leaving me unexpectedly bashful under that steady stare.
"Truth be told, word came from Yangyang Martial Hall recently."
"Yangyang...? Where's that?"
"I thought you knew... He said you met there during your North Sea trip."
It tugged at vague memory...
"A martial hall in Zhejiang Province."
North Sea. Zhejiang.
That clicked—a name surfaced.
"Perhaps... Yeom Daehyeop's..."
"Exactly. Yeom Jin-yeon runs it as hall master."
"So Yangyang Martial Hall serves the Snow Wind Palace's purpose?"
Master nodded.
The Snow Wind Palace's purpose: raising children born to North Sea Ice Palace women.
"Boys reaching a certain age become escort bureau guards. Girls get a choice: join the escorts or enter the North Sea Ice Palace."
"It's not mandatory for the girls, then."
"Of course they have the right to choose. Most opt for the palace, though—their warrior women are idols to them."
Fair enough. The North Sea Ice Palace warriors I'd seen brimmed with spirit and poise, their arts formidable.
"And the children of escort guards?"
"No restrictions on them."
"Got it."
"I saw him on an escort run; he mentioned the Palace Lord's aid—and how your donation proved invaluable."
"Glad to hear it helped."
"But... he may have to leave the hall."
"What?"
Master explained the situation.
Yangyang Martial Hall rented land from a nearby manor, not owning it outright.
Flush with funds from my gift, they'd sought to buy it—only for the owner to suddenly refuse.
Worse, he demanded they vacate by next March's end to build a tavern there.
Stunned by the abrupt turn, they'd reported to Master—the Snow Wind Palace's hall under the palace lord's aegis.
Like with the riverside outpost, non-landowners had it rough.
A tavern, though?
Next year, famine would bring a nationwide liquor ban?