Off to Shaolin (1)
I was now facing my second brother, Namgung Jung.
"What did you just say?"
"I'll use the wish from winning the proxy duel."
"And that's what you mentioned earlier?"
"Yes."
Namgung Jung peered deeply into his youngest brother's eyes once more, trying to gauge his intentions.
"Is it something difficult?"
The youngest asked with genuine concern.
'No matter how I look at it, he's sincere.'
He'd heard that the third brother had entered his second seclusion. By the look of it, the youngest would turn fifteen in two years—old enough to qualify for the Sawangjeon tournament at minimum.
'Then this request must be tied to the Sawangjeon as well.'
That made it all the more baffling. Namgung Jung furrowed his brow.
Seeing his reaction, I thought to myself, Yeah, no dice after all...
It was a favor I figured might not fly. I'd come hoping someone of Second Brother's stature in the Namgung Clan could pull it off, but it was a bit much, no denying that.
Meanwhile, Namgung Je-cheon had been standing quietly by my side since we arrived. After all that fuss earlier, his sudden silence only made me more uneasy.
Namgung Je-cheon was racking his brains based on the young master's seemingly empty wish. The core issue here was: what did the young master aim to gain from it...?
If Second Young Master agreed, it would be an irresistible bait for Sorimsa. And knowing Second Young Master's capabilities, snagging that one thing would be no trouble at all.
The fact that he hadn't given a straight answer meant he was running calculations in his head—just like Je-cheon himself.
'The young master is playing fisherman.'
The fish? Sorimsa. A fisherman threads bait onto the hook first. The young master's next move would be casting the line into the water.
But before that! Seasoned anglers scatter a handful of chum to lure the fish toward them.
Whether the young master had thought that far ahead... well, he'd have to watch and see.
After staring at Namgung Daeso for a long moment, Namgung Jung finally spoke.
"It'll require some pushing, but it's not a request I can't grant."
"R-really? Brother!"
"Yes. But first, I have a question for you."
"Ask away! Your youngest will answer with utter sincerity—no lies whatsoever!"
"You said 'no lies' with your own mouth."
In that instant, I regretted my bold declaration. The way Second Brother's tone slithered in, his eyes gleaming like a snake eyeing prey...
"What do you plan to do at the Sawangjeon?"
"......"
The moment the question hit, instinct told me:
'He knows.'
He knew I planned to enter the Sawangjeon. And that I aimed to achieve something there!
Should I hide it? The thought flickered briefly, but I shoved it aside.
If Second Brother didn't approve, it wouldn't happen anyway. And once the Sawangjeon started, everyone would know.
I answered calmly. Concisely. Clearly.
"Win it."
For some reason, Second Brother grinned.
"Beating the third brother?"
"Yes."
"Good! Your wish is granted!"
* * *
Namgung Je-cheon and I were heading back to Cheonryongjeon.
Things with Second Brother had wrapped up perfectly. He'd handle it today or tomorrow at latest.
Yet I couldn't shake this nagging unease.
"Why the hell do you look like you're dying for a shit?"
"That obvious?"
"Precisely: you head to the outhouse, drop your load, realize you forgot the paper—eh, screw it, underwear'll do. You pull 'em down, lose balance, ass-plant with an 'ah, fuck!' Then you slip again and plunge right into the shit pit... that kinda face."
'No need to describe it that vividly.'
Still, his rundown nailed why I felt this way.
'My ass is gonna get screwed.'
I glanced back. Second Brother's pavilion was still in sight.
-This Sawangjeon was gonna be boring with Third Brother prepping so hard, but looks like it'll be fun after all. Oh, and since you're heading out, I'll throw in a few extra gifts.
-No need, really.
-Hey now! You trying to disappoint a brother who cares for you? Just say thanks! Come on!
-......Thanks.
-Good lad!
He'd seemed ready to nix my request if I refused, so I'd answered reluctantly...
"Gifts, huh..."
"Is that why you've been making that face since leaving Second Young Master's pavilion?"
"Yeah. A gift from Second Brother, of all people."
If it were anyone else who gave gifts often, fine! But I'd been burned before.
That "generous" meal I'd thought was pure kindness? Loaded with poison. I didn't die, but it left a few sword scars I had to patch up myself.
Not suspecting him would be the real abnormality.
"Don't worry."
Namgung Je-cheon looked perfectly at ease. He'd known Second Brother longer than I had. He couldn't claim to know everything, but he had the measure of the man.
"He called it a gift. So it's a gift."
The Namgung Jung he knew didn't wear his intentions on his sleeve. If he said "gift," it was one.
"Any guesses?"
"Gotta see it to know, but probably... it'll help with whatever you're scheming, or at least not hurt. He loves making a scene. If it's useless, toss it."
The next day, the item I'd requested and Second Brother's gifts arrived.
"This is..."
I was stunned by how overthe-top the "gifts" were.
Namgung Je-cheon checked them over and beamed triumphantly.
"See? Told you."
Did I love this or hate it? A tad overwhelming.
But it was for me, so I could accept, right? Either way, my preparations to hook Sorimsa were complete.
Whether they'd bite was another story.
I stepped out into the courtyard, where the Daegalbak uncles were going about their tasks. Today marked the third day since I'd ended my rest—they were loosening up, expecting a spar.
I called out to them.
"I'm heading to Sorimsa nice and low-key. Keep the group small—three including me max. First come, first served, starting now."
My sudden announcement earned blank stares like I'd spouted nonsense.
Then Namgung Je-cheon jumped in front of me.
"Me! Me!!"
Two spots left. Normally, I'd explain, they'd listen...
But this lunatic skipped straight past that.
Ilseon Dosa lined up behind him.
"Amitabha. No idea what wind blew the young master toward Sorimsa, but if it's Shaolin, I can't sit it out."
"You sure? You said you got kicked out. Won't it just be awkward for everyone?"
Ilseon Dosa's face crumpled.
Then another stepped behind him.
"Immeasurable Buddha. Can't miss a fun show like this. Count me in."
Who was it that said the best spectacles were fires and fights?
I turned to Namgung Je-cheon.
"You're not even from Cheonryongjeon. Get back to Gunsajeon."
"What kinda rude shit is that to say to my face?"
He hadn't returned to Gunsajeon last night—crashed here instead.
"Who do you think I am?!"
"Lunatic."
"Mad dog."
"First guy to curse at the Martial God and live. Short version: nutjob."
"Ah, fuck! Every time I come here, it's this crap. I took precautions, so don't worry."
* * *
Gunsajeon. The vice-strategist's office where Namgung Je-cheon should be.
Slide.
Ihyang stopped by to discuss something.
"Weird? He should be sprawled out sleeping like always."
She'd gradually taken over most of his duties, and surprisingly, she loved it. Made her question how she'd survived just grazing sheep before.
She wouldn't mind going back if asked, but the joy of tackling tasks responsibly felt great now.
Ihyang eyed the papers strewn across Namgung Je-cheon's desk.
"Past Sawangjeon participants' intel? But why...? It's two years away."
Then, amid the pile, a crooked note caught her eye. She picked it up—Je-cheon's handwriting.
[Sis~! Heading out for a bit. Not slacking off, swear. Cover for me with Master, yeah? She's been beating on me lately, hard to face her... hehe. Wanna take over as vice-strat in the meantime?]
Three wrinkles creased Ihyang's forehead.
"Haa... what to do with this idiot..."
* * *
Ilseon Dosa asked cautiously.
"Young master, care to explain now? Why Sorimsa?"
I glanced around. The other Daegalbak uncles looked curious too.
"I need real combat experience, right?"
"Yeah. The monk said it, but we all agreed—even me and these guys."
Mujikja nodded. The Daegalbak uncles too.
"But I can't get that inside Namgung Clan. No Ma-gyo, no Sapa. Leaves just one option."
Daegalbak 33-ho Uncle ventured, "The... Jeongpa?"
I pointed at him. "Bingo—Jeongpa! And Sorimsa's perfect for piling on battle experience. They've got 72 martial arts and a millennium of history."
Great idea. Excited murmurs rose.
"Yeah, Sorimsa's more than enough."
But.
"How d'you plan to get in? Even Namgung elders barely faze them."
"Not called Thousand-Year Sorim for nothing. Only our clan and theirs slap 'thousand' before the name—different reasons, though."
"Young master, this is a long shot. Clan head might need to go himself. Martial God tagging along?"
Our old man? No way!
"Nah. It's just us three, me included. Too many slows us down, and if we're staying awhile, it'd be rude to them."
"No, that's not—!"
They meant Sorimsa wouldn't accept me, period.
Sorimsa was insular. They didn't do favors without gain.
I told them, "Don't sweat it. I'll hook Sorimsa myself."
They couldn't refuse.
Ilseon Dosa kept eyeing me, unblinking.
Something to hook Sorimsa. The moment he heard it, a thought flashed.
'N-no, he wouldn't...?'
He shook his head. 'Too far-fetched. But does he really have a plan?'
If Sorimsa agreed, it'd be a golden opportunity for Namgung Daeso.
'If it flops, I'll step in myself to help.'
He felt some responsibility for pushing the young master this far.
"Alright! Gear up and meet back here. We're off to Sorimsa."
Namgung Je-cheon piped up. "You did get the clan head's permission, right?"
Uh...... No.
* * *
While they prepped, I headed to the patriarch's quarters.
Surprisingly, Father approved readily—but with one condition.
"Bring back some good booze when you return."
The guy who has tons of liquor anyway? Not asking to drink together, is he?
(Last I checked, our old man holds his drink like a champ.)
"Well?"
"......Yes."
"Then go."
"Yes......"
Still felt iffy back there, but now I was fully set to depart for Sorimsa.