My Plan Is Like This (3)
Here was my plan.
First, head to the corner of the training hall when I arrive.
Second, quietly stick to basic training.
Third, rumors would naturally spread like this: The Namgung youngest young master really is the lowest of the low. All he knows is basic swordsmanship.
Eventually, even the old nickname "trash" from my past life would resurface, and by the year-end evaluation, I'd hammer it home for everyone once more.
I had no intention of learning martial arts. Even if I did, this was the best I could manage. You young lords can divvy up the inheritance among yourselves.
This was my escape plan from the Namgung Clan. How perfect was that?
There was no way some wildcard like Yi Han would show up again.
But then this lunatic barged in.
Thwack!
I shut the lunatic's mouth first. As our ancestors said, beatings are the cure for madmen. Their wisdom never fails.
"Everyone, don't mind us. Just keep doing what you were doing. Haha."
I ignored the trainees' stares, hugged the lunatic, and dragged him out of the training hall.
'Haa...'
I had no idea how to untangle this mess on day one.
* * *
Uiyakdang.
Yi Han eyed me curiously. I eyed him right back.
"Back again?"
"You haven't left yet?"
"Your body's fine, so why're you here?"
I plopped Namgung Je-cheon, slung over my back, onto the bed.
Yi Han gave him a quick once-over and nailed the diagnosis.
"He's out cold."
"Yep."
"Swollen occiput says someone clocked him."
"Yep. So, you planning to stick around here from now on?"
Ignoring my question, Yi Han flipped Namgung Je-cheon's eyelids.
"No shock in the eyes means a sneak attack or someone familiar. And your right hand's a bit puffy—you did the deed yourself."
"As expected of Yi Han."
"You pick this up rolling through the jianghu. Anyway, what'd you say earlier?"
"Asked if you're staying here long-term."
"Thinking about it. They feed me, let me sleep, ply me with booze, and there's plenty of entertainment... Nowhere else in the world beats this spot."
That much I conceded. All the world's geniuses gathered here. Every scrap of Central Plains gossip converged on the Namgung Clan. No need to roam the world—Namgung was the world.
"...Alright. Take care."
That didn't mean Yi Han would stay for it, but I kept our chat short. Lingering was risky—he was Father's old friend, after all.
"Yeah, see ya."
Outside Uiyakdang, I walked a ways, then glanced back. Yi Han hadn't gone in yet, just staring at me.
I bowed again in greeting. He waved benevolently.
From here, he looked just like the kindly old man next door.
'Weird.'
Did the future change? Or was this some past event I never knew about?
I knew about Uiyakdang back then, but never dared use it. My world was just the training hall and my quarters.
If Yi Han had been here, rumors would've flown, and I'd have heard them...
Either way, my plan didn't hinge on him being around. As long as I played it right. Just me.
I hurried back to the training hall.
Yi Han watched Namgung Daeso's retreating figure, lips curling into a grin.
"For real?"
Yi Han had planned to leave today.
-Business done? Get lost.
-Fine, kid. One last thing before I go. I get the boy's special. But compared to the eldest, second, or third? He's a tad short. Fact.
Yi Han had personally checked the pulses of the first three when they were young. Not Cheonmu Jiche, but monsters beyond human limits. Exceptions to the rule.
-You're Mushin. No lingering worldly ties. And fatherly affection exploding now? Why obsess over him all of a sudden? Spill.
A question Yi Han knew wouldn't get answered.
-He keeps picking stuff up.
Yi Han's eyes widened.
-Picking up?
Namgung Hancheol, who usually ignored him, actually replied. His stone face even twitched faintly. Voice pitched up a notch.
-Now go.
-Hey! Tell me what he's picking up!
-...
-Hey! Ghosting me again? Martial prowess is everything?
Namgung Hancheol vanished, but his voice echoed in Yi Han's mind: Hye-gwang Sim-eo.
-Yeah. It's everything.
-You'll see. I did today. He picked something up.
"First time."
That's what Namgung Daeso said upon picking it up, eyes snapping open.
Yi Han checked his eyes. Focus sharp. A glint of hyeon-gi deep inside—not your average kid.
'This what he meant?'
Some people drew crowds effortlessly. And they usually left massive legacies.
Ah. Now Yi Han got it—what Namgung Hancheol saw.
He was one of those people himself.
"Any abnormalities?"
Yi Han asked the pickup.
"Yes."
"No way? No obvious illness."
"Happened today."
Sometimes a solid headshot caused that.
"Got it. Might be disoriented temporarily. Rest here in case of abnormalities."
"No."
The pickup sat up and declared:
"I've found the sole light to change this head-stuffed Namgung Clan. Today, I glimpsed a new ideal."
Yi Han wagged a finger.
"How many'm I seeing?"
"One."
"No major abnormalities then."
"Dreams! I said I found an ideal!"
Yi Han realized something else. Only one type acted normal but like this.
"You're always like this, huh."
"Ah! Late greetings to my healer. Namgung Je-cheon, humbly serving as deputy strategist for the Namgung Clan. Yi Han."
"Hoo! You know me?"
"Who doesn't?"
"Deputy strategist—you're that lunatic old man Namgung Ilro mentioned."
"Head-stuffed morons call me that. Ignore their drivel."
Everyone knew the "lunatic" was nuts. But his work was flawless, so they let it slide.
"Yeah, yeah. If you're good, scram."
"No heart."
"Tea?"
"Too busy for tea. Gotta head out soon."
Lunatic? Whoever coined it nailed it.
"Heh! Haha! Hehe! Cuckoo! Kekeke! Teehee!"
The lunatic laughed maniacally. Yi Han pressed his forehead.
"No fever."
"Like I said: no abnormality, but a new ideal."
Yi Han checked his pulse.
"Normal."
"Whoa! Time flies. So much to do—Namgung grinds to a halt without me."
"Uh, sure."
Thankfully, the lunatic left.
Yi Han recalled Namgung Hancheol's parting words.
"Thought he was joking back then."
-Just watching him is fun.
"This'll be entertaining."
Curious what ideal the lunatic saw.
* * *
Back at the training hall.
Trainees had forgotten the incident, immersed in practice.
As planned, I took the corner, stretched.
'As expected.'
Even swinging the sword, stepping, breathing—eyes flicked my way constantly.
Not as big a ripple as feared.
'Rumors about the deputy strategist are legendary.'
Lunatics spout nonsense. Normal.
Stretched, looked up—stares vanished.
I grabbed a wooden sword from the rack. Attention snapped back.
Those in uniforms marked "three" and "four" stopped entirely, staring openly. Third- and fourth-year trainees.
Top of the ladder here, but stuck. They'd devoured advice, manuals. Mastered their arts in sleep.
Yet locked out of the Namgung world. No masters teaching them fueled the anxiety.
A few might pass next year-end by luck. Most would leave.
Sometimes quitting was smart. Chasing ideals was a dream—and at its end, only illusion.
'If only they'd quit like me.'
Live within your vessel. Overreach, it shatters. Underreach, others nag.
"Empty carts rattle" is bullshit. Empty's quiet. Half-full's the racket.
They eyed me like a lifeline.
I was direct lineage. All directs before me forged legends here.
They craved not my skill, but flaws in their own via my moves. Same art, different wielders—vast gaps.
I wanted to tell them: Wrong choice. Swing that sword one more time instead.
Samjae Geombeop. My only sword art. Everyone's third-rate gong.
Why I came: Samjae Geombeop.
Swish.
Wooden sword traced its forms. Some stares dropped off.
No one wasted time halting for basic crap.
I swung relentlessly.
Sunset... every expectant gaze gone.
Worried the lunatic botched it? Nah, first button fit perfectly.
Time would bring the rumors I wanted.
I returned to my quarters prouder than ever.
* * *
Rice cooking aroma hit first. Sharp, spicy—mountain vegetable bibimbap today.
Creeeak.
I flung the door wide, mood soaring.
"Welcome back?"
My foot froze mid-step at the sight.
Weird. Wrong place?
I stepped out, checked the plaque.
[Youngest Young Master]
My quarters. Right.
"You're back—sit already. Why stand there gawking? Come on. Wow~ Now I get why the young master's missing from meals."
"Why're you here?"
I asked the obvious. Why the lunatic?
"Why? Obvious, right? But first—sisters! Hehe. One more bowl, please."
"Oh! Deputy Strategist, sir. Done already?"
"Yes. Delicious. Best meal of my life."
"Hoho. Come again."
"Wow~ True ladies. Pretty faces! Kind hearts! Marry me?"
"Oh my!"
"Oh dear!"
"Look at this shrimp!"
Huh? Already won over my maids?
Took me ages as a kid!
What about Head Maid granny? Nah. Where was she?
There—kitchen. Granny emerged. Rosier than usual?
Missed it earlier, but maids glowed too. Group balmo sesu or something?
"Big sis! Feeling better? Sorry, only brought 10 Cheonyang Pills."
"Aigoo, thanks. This old hag's joints ache no more."
"Haha! Next time, Suryong Pills. Ah! Young master, what'd you say?"
This bastard... All that "genius" hype. Living up to it.
Won over my entire household. In one day.
I signaled the maids, eyed Namgung Je-cheon.
"Food. Starving. And you."
"Yes?"
"We need to talk."
* * *
On the roof.
Three figures sat.
"Finally! Lunatic meets weirdo!"
Yi Han said, thrilled.