The Three Pavilions
Zhejiang Province.
In this vast region, with Hangzhou as its capital, one power stood above nearly all others when influence was measured.
The Gwak Family of West Lake
A martial clan that, in the relatively brief span of eighty years, had swollen so rapidly in power that men already called it one of the Two Great Houses of Zhejiang.
Beyond the wide windows, Hangzhou's countless multi-storied pleasure houses stretched away in every direction, silent proof of that might.
"So."
A middle-aged man who had just received his steward's report continued in an unhurried voice.
"He lost his memory?"
"That is what he claimed, my lord."
"And what do you make of it, Steward Yu?"
"He did not appear to be lying, but—"
"You don't trust it."
"If I may be so bold—yes."
The man who drew that answer with a piercing gaze was Gwak Seo-ryong, the present Family Head.
His late father was hailed as the legendary founder who had raised the Seoho Gwak Family from nothing, yet Gwak Seo-ryong himself was no lesser figure. He had shielded the house through its meteoric rise against the countless rivals who sought to tear it down. He was not a man who judged a situation from a single face of the coin.
"And the physician?"
"He said temporary memory loss is possible. A sudden shock severe enough to break the mind can bring it on, he claimed."
"But."
"His clothes were rags—yet his body was utterly unharmed. For a man who was supposedly chased by a pack of wolves on Gwigok Mountain and nearly thrown from a cliff, that is… difficult to accept."
"So you believe he has been lying from the start."
"Bold as it may be to say so… yes."
"Which would mean the man named Cheon Gang—the one who supposedly carried him down from Gwigok Mountain—has lies mixed into his story as well."
"That is how it seems to me."
"…"
"It is Gwigok Mountain, after all. I find it hard to believe the Second Young Master would set foot in such a place."
"That, we cannot know for certain."
Gwak Seo-ryong swallowed the rest of the thought—not if you know that boy's nature.
Gwak Yeon.
The second son of the Seoho Gwak Family, known throughout the house as a coward, was scheduled only days from now to face his youngest brother in a duel before the entire clan.
"For some men, there are things more terrifying than a haunted mountain to hide in."
"…"
That youngest brother was called a genius of the sword. If a boy who would rather die than be humiliated in public had truly decided to run, he would not have feared slipping into a place like Gwigok Mountain.
Gwak Seo-ryong fell silent, as if turning something over in his mind. The steward spoke carefully into that quiet.
"Will you… question him yourself, my lord?"
"You sound as though you are hoping I will scold the boy."
"I—I would never—"
"Don't pretend otherwise. I know perfectly well you favor the youngest."
"Family Head—"
"It is fine. That, too, is part of the third son's ability. Drawing capable people to your side is one of the arts of succession."
Gwak Seo-ryong's gaze drifted. The steward followed it—and found three wooden plaques hanging on the far wall of the study. He hastily flicked his sleeves and rushed into explanation.
"P-please don't worry, my lord! The achievements of each pavilion are recorded with perfect fairness. Not only those who bring us commissions, but the eyes and tongues of the entire city stand as witnesses."
On those three plaques were written the names of the pavilions established under each of the family's three young masters.
Iljeongak
Iyeongak
Samhogak
Long ago, Family Head Gwak Seo-ryong had declared that the next successor would be chosen by the achievements each young master built through the pavilion under his command.
It was a tradition his father had established beginning with Gwak Seo-ryong's own generation: to lead a martial house that held sway over an entire region, a man needed the capacity to command a force. Local commissions fulfilled, renown won on the rivers and lakes of the jianghu, chivalrous deeds that upheld justice, the strength of the friends one made, the number of warriors under one's banner…
By every kind of merit, the young master who elevated his pavilion would be the one to lead the family.
Just as Gwak Seo-ryong once had, the three young masters of the present Gwak clan were bound to pass through that same crucible for the seat of the next Family Head.
"Even you, Steward, already see this as a contest between only two of them."
"Th-that is…"
"Asking you to speak frankly would be useless, I suppose."
"…"
"Leave me."
"Family Head—"
By now, there was not a soul in Hangzhou who did not know it: of those three young masters, at least one had already been cast aside as chaff in the race for succession.
"Then… shall we postpone the scheduled duel? Once we have seen the Second Young Master's condition again—"
"Prepare it as planned."
"Yes, Family Head."
And what result that coming duel within the family would bring—that, too, was something no one needed to guess.
The second son of the Seoho Gwak Family.
Gwak Yeon
Among Hangzhou's gossips, his name was a byword for a fool. Between a capable if eccentric eldest brother and a genius of a youngest, he was the dullard who could not even hold on to his own rice bowl.
The latest rumor clinging to him was that he had dropped to his knees before the leader of a black-path faction after a quarrel in some Hangzhou tavern—more than enough for loose tongues to feast on.
Blowhard. Idiot. Coward.
A half-wit no matchmaker in Zhejiang Province would touch, a son no family that wished ties with the Seoho Gwak would ever offer a daughter to.
And the final rumor circling him was this:
A man so terrified of dueling his youngest brother that he kicked open the main gate and fled…
Which made the next thought inevitable.
Strange that anyone follows him at all.
It was hardly odd that the present Gwak Yeon—the owner of this body, now a vampire—should think exactly that.
Cheon Gang had explained it to him.
A young master of this family had to prove, through the achievements of the pavilion under his name, that he was fit to be the next Family Head. And of course that "proof" included how many strong warriors he commanded.
A full day had passed.
He did not even need a vampire's sharpened senses to see it. Far beyond the window, the Third Young Master's pavilion was already thick with sword-bearing warriors.
But his own—
Iyeongak
—had exactly one warrior to its name.
"Hahahaha! Even your chopsticks have the bearing of a great man! That's it—eat up, Young Master! Eat your fill!"
"Would you move aside?!"
"Wait—just a moment! That's the limp seasoned greens our Young Master hates most!"
"Eating what you dislike is good for your health!"
"Urgh."
Cheon Gang.
Ever since yesterday, the moment mealtimes arrived, this warrior had been barging into the room alongside the maid who brought the food and turning the place into a racket.
And on that note…
"What—you've already finished everything?"
"Young Master! D-don't tell me you chewed and swallowed all those greens as well?"
"Not a single grain of rice left…"
"Hahahaha! What did I tell you? Our Young Master is the very image of late-blooming greatness! Just watching him eat, you can see the bearing of a true martial man!"
"Be quiet, will you?!"
"You're louder than I am!"
…Far too loud.
So just eating a meal properly earns this much praise.
Before the maid and the warrior, who were clapping their hands in delight, Gwak Yeon finished his food, drank his water slowly, and ordered his thoughts.
Anyway. I have the measure of it now.
One full day. Confined to this room, he had tested a few of the strange abilities this blood granted him, and thought the matter through with care.
Gwak Yeon still remembered.
Sun and Moon
The tattoo that had blazed on the Shadowless Old Monster in his final moments—and the last word he had spat: Cult.
That was a lead. A trail by which he might hunt down whatever remnant of that great evil still lingered in this age.
So then—where should the pursuit begin?
He could enter the imperial bureaucracy again, as he had in his past life with the Geumuiwi. Or in this life, he might join the Murim Alliance.
But wherever he went, he would never again be forced to scramble helplessly before a creature like the Shadowless Old Monster.
I have to become far stronger than I was in my last life.
If he had been stronger then—he could have saved the lives of the comrades who fought beside him. He might even have dragged out and crushed the other ancient evils the monster had spoken of.
And in that regard, the circumstances Gwak Yeon found himself in now were more than decent soil for pursuing a strength beyond anything his past life had known.
Almost too good a place to grow strong.
In his previous life he had clawed together martial skill by any means he could, training alone without proper instruction or support. Now, as a young master of a great martial house, he could claim every resource he reached for. How much better an environment was this for becoming powerful?
I even have a pavilion under my own name.
It held only one man for now… but handled well, it could become a force of his own—exactly what he would need when the time came to root out the evils of the jianghu.
Grow stronger. Eradicate a greater evil than anything he had faced in his past life—
For that simple goal, Gwak Yeon decided he would remain with this family for a while.
Besides, this body needed tempering. Vampire or not, its muscle and stamina fell short of what he had forged in his previous life.
…Come to think of it.
And suddenly, something else tugged at his curiosity.
Eighty years ago. If a few of the people he had known back then had kept their last wills, there might still be spirit medicines and treasures buried somewhere in the jianghu even now.
That was not all. How had the old jianghu he once knew changed into the world of today?
One major decision settled, and curiosity bloomed in its wake, one question after another. He was just beginning to think he ought to step outside and see what shape the present jianghu wore when—
"Young Master, then what will you have for dessert?"
"Our Young Master will of course want—"
"Oh, for heaven's sake, be quiet! Would an apple be all right?"
"Hey! You've been pushing things he hates all morning!"
"I'm thinking of the Young Master's health—!"
"Hold on."
Gwak Yeon cut through the maid and Cheon Gang, who had moved on to arguing over his dessert.
Knock. Knock.
A rapping at the door—and from beyond it, a heavy voice rolled into the room.
"…Young Master."
"The Family Head summons you."