Chapter 155

Chapter 155
# Chapter 155: The Letter from Gildju

A single carrier pigeon fluttered down to the Baek Clan Manor, its soft coo echoing through the air. It carried a letter sent all the way from Gildju.

Baek Yang-hui read the words slowly, taking in every line.

*”The campaign to reclaim Gildju has finally drawn to a close.”*

Three full months had passed since the warriors had set forth, marching under the joint leadership of Baek Mu-ryang and the Tang forces. Now, they had at last succeeded in rooting out every last faction of the black path within the region.

*”It took longer than I anticipated… No, that is not the right way to look at it.”*

Gildju stood as the second-largest territory within the vast expanse of Gangseo Province—far more than a mere district; it was so broad that an entire small kingdom could fit comfortably within its borders. To have wiped out five major black path sects and hunted down every hidden remnant in just ninety days was, in truth, remarkably swift.

*”I gathered representatives from Gildju’s common folk and spoke with them directly. When given the choice, they expressed a clear wish that our clan withdraw from their lands and return home. I warned them that black path forces from Honam might invade if we left, but they stood firm in their decision. I shall honor their choice and lead our forces back immediately.”*

*”Truly, that is Father for you. He need not have shared every detail, yet he told me everything all the same.”*

Even so, the people still wanted the Baek Clan gone. It was the way of these insular, wary clans—closed off, quick to show hostility.

*”They are not foolish. They must understand that the days ahead could grow even more dangerous.”*

Yet knowing what is right does not always lead to choosing it. A person who nearly drowned as a child will never again find joy in swimming, no matter how calm and safe the waters may appear. Having lived as refugees and suffered persecution for generations, these people viewed every outsider with suspicion, no matter how much kindness was offered.

*”That said, once they truly open their hearts, they will prove an unshakable stronghold—one that will never turn traitor.”*

With those thoughts, he rose to his feet and made his way toward the quarters where the Namgung men were staying. He needed to pass along the news to Namgung Cheon-hu.

“Young Master Namgung, the subjugation of Gildju is complete. Our forces will begin the return march shortly.”

“I see. Understood.”

The matter was settled, yet Yang-hui did not depart at once. He lingered a moment, watching Namgung Cheon-hu. The other man met his gaze, his expression quiet yet asking what more there was to say. His face remained as impassive as ever, but Yang-hui caught the faint undercurrent of feeling beneath.

*”Hm. He is beginning to wish he could be rid of me. I would feel the same in his place.”*

Not long ago, Namgung Cheon-hu had spoken with great confidence, declaring that he would lead rapid strikes against Gildju’s black path sects. In truth, the pacification of Gildju had originally been the Namgung Clan’s duty. Yet even with Namgung Cheon-hu himself at their head, their twenty peak realm experts had been reduced to just twelve—a respectable number, yet no longer sufficient to sustain long-distance expeditions and mobile warfare across such great distances.

“Is Muju’s security holding steady?”

“There have been no unusual disturbances.”

And so Namgung Cheon-hu and the rest of the Soaring Heaven Sword Squad had taken up watch in their absence, standing guard over the rear while the Tang and Baek forces were away.

“See that it remains so.”

“Have no fear.”

As he stepped out of the Namgung quarters, Yang-hui’s brow furrowed. *Those men are never so well-behaved as all that.*

It had not been Yang-hui’s suggestion that the Namgung Clan take charge of Muju’s defenses; Namgung Cheon-hu had volunteered first. He had framed it as a noble duty—guarding the homeland—yet in truth, he had stepped forward to serve as nothing more than a watchdog.

*”They have given up on earning merit and securing a claim to influence in Gangseo later on.”*

They would not abandon their schemes entirely, of course—they had simply decided to play a longer, quieter game. And that was not all.

*”A watchdog. If the dog itself unlatches the gate, outsiders will find it all too easy to plunder the house.”*

They would not openly ally with bandits to rob the place, perhaps, but a silent, unvigilant guard left everything just as defenseless. That, Yang-hui suspected, was the true reason Namgung Cheon-hu had sought the post.

*”The trouble is that Namgung Cheon-hu knows I see his game.”*

He clicked his tongue. It was a delicate matter—confronting a young master of the Namgung Clan on nothing more than suspicion would bring serious consequences later. If only he could find solid proof of collusion with the black path, everything would become far simpler.

Still, these were the calculations one made in the game of power and intrigue. *In the end, to bring those Namgung down, I must create a situation from which they cannot possibly escape. I must strike where they are vulnerable, even if it carries some risk—flaws Namgung Cheon-hu believes are invisible, all while keeping myself as safe as possible.*

*Tricky. It is all so very tricky.*

He would need to confer with Little Bookworm and devise a careful, solid plan.

Lost in thought, he soon reached the private garden behind his residence. There he found Adu and Je-gal Seol-ha deep in practice.

“Seol-ha.”

“Ah, Senior Brother!” Je-gal Seol-ha beamed, wiping beads of sweat from her brow.

“Why are you practicing out here? Why not use the training hall?”

“There were others there.” She had not yet outgrown her shyness around strangers. “Besides, I do not need much room. I can run through my forms right here, even seated.”

She demonstrated by plucking the strings of her bipa; a clear, beautiful melody rang out, and the force of it stirred the dust upon Adu’s chest.

“It is a method that would be impossible for anyone but a monk, though.”

“Impossible? Even against Adu, it seems a touch harsh.” Je-gal Seol-ha was honing her peak realm sound arts by directing them at him—and doing so in a steady, one-sided barrage against a target that did not move. Even as sturdy as he was, treating him like a living shield felt excessive.

“That is rich coming from you, Senior Brother. You spent days flooding my mind with killing intent just to teach me Righteous Spirit Manifestation.”

“…You have a point.”

It was effective, certainly, yet brutally crude. Under such pressure, most would have suffered a shattered mind, demonic visions, or a dangerous misalignment of qi long before mastering the skill. *I am grateful all over again that she bore it so well.* He had kept at it only because she seemed to endure; had he seen the first sign of her resolve cracking, he would have stopped at once.

“Seol-ha, are you finished?”

“Yes. That is all for today.”

“Then hand over the rice cakes.”

“I will fetch them soon—would you like to come choose them with me?”

“Truly? That sounds wonderful!”

It should be noted that Adu’s payment for serving as training partner was a daily portion of rice cakes—hardly worth a single silver tael. *I suppose I am just as guilty of making use of him… but Seol-ha has changed so much.* Once she would bow and scrape at the smallest kindness, vowing to repay every favor no matter how slight. Now she spoke boldly, unashamed, nothing like the refined noble’s daughter she had once been. How had it come to this?

*So long as Adu is happy, I suppose it does not matter.* For him, taking blows that strengthened his physical arts and receiving sweet cakes in return seemed a fine bargain. And a master of peak realm sound arts could shatter bone and organ with a single note—this was genuine training, no matter how it looked. He simply smiled, warm at heart. Good was good.

“Are you both heading out?”

“Yes—we are going to wash up and get the cakes.”

“May I join you?”

“You too, Senior Brother?”

“My thoughts are all tangled up; a meal out might help clear my head.”

“A change of scene is just the thing! I shall hurry and make myself ready.” Je-gal Seol-ha’s face lit up, and she hurried off like a drifting feather. From her haste, she must have been quite hungry.

Wait—an hour passed, and she did not return. It had been early evening when she left; now the sun hung low in the sky.

“Have I kept you waiting long?” She appeared without a trace of apology or false modesty.

“Only forever. It felt like an eternity.”

“Seol-ha, did you stop to nap?”

“Hehe—what is with the glum faces? A true gentleman waits patiently while a lady makes herself ready.” She turned in a graceful circle, her rich silk skirt swirling around her. She looked truly striking—no veil, as she usually wore, her features carefully prepared. Her very presence could hold anyone spellbound, and now she stood revealed in full.

“You have set aside your veil? Are you comfortable with that?”

“It is time I let myself be seen for once. If anyone crowds too close, will you chase them away for me, Senior Brother?”

“I can certainly do that… but is it not their thoughts you ought to worry about?”

“Let us be off. I sent someone ahead to reserve a table while I got ready.”

At the familiar tavern—Yuwalu, once an establishment of the Protection Assembly and the site of the historic Yuhang Gathering—nestled at the foot of the hill that gave Lake Yuhang its name, a scenic jewel of Agan-hyeon, the host greeted them warmly.

“Welcome, Young Master. Right this way—your table is on the top floor.”

As they followed him up the stairs and approached the private room, Yang-hui paused. *Someone is inside.* The presence was faint, hidden behind stealth arts, yet not faint enough to escape his notice. Two people—martial artists. *Assassins?* He glanced at the host, who showed no alarm at all. They had slipped in unnoticed.

—Stay alert, both of you. Be ready. He sent the warning silently to Je-gal Seol-ha and Adu, then pushed the door open and stepped through.

To his surprise, he knew them both.

“Chui-dal? Elder?”

“Come in, Young Master—come in!” Yeo Un-hyeok laughed heartily. Chui-dal and he had been waiting there.

*It has been half a year already.* They had departed to train in the secret arts of the Spirit Ghost Sect, following the ancient New Earth Meridian Veins—eight months in all, and due to return soon.

“But how did you know we would be here?”

“Ah, about that—” Chui-dal stepped forward with a broad grin, then froze, eyes wide as saucers. The joy of reunion vanished. “Brother… the lady behind you…”

“Ah.” Yang-hui understood his stunned look. *To be so distracted by a girl, even one as striking as Seol-ha? Really?* He made the introductions properly. “Seol-ha, this is the head of our Baek-ri Hall, Yeo Un-hyeok. And this gaping fool is Chui-dal.”

After greeting the elder, Je-gal Seol-ha turned to Chui-dal with bright, curious eyes. “So you are the renowned Young Master Chui-dal! Senior Brother speaks of you constantly.”

“M-me? Renowned? I am unworthy of such praise!” He stammered, flustered beyond measure.

“Chui-dal, oh Chui-dal—shame is your middle name, and otter your nature.”

“Brother! Do not tease me so!”

“You gave up being embarrassed years ago—why start now?” Yang-hui draped an arm around his shoulders. “Upset to be teased in front of Seol-ha? Is this the calm you have cultivated? How will you serve the Spirit Ghost if you lose your composure so easily?”

“Ouch—Brother! You attack me the moment we meet?”

“Attack? This is brotherly affection, you rascal!”

Chui-dal wriggled free with surprising ease.

“Hm. Not bad.” Yang-hui had squeezed hard, in earnest, yet he had slipped away as if oiled.

“Heh—see? I am not the same boy who left.”

“True enough. Though I might upgrade you from wild otter to tame duck.”

“Duck? I am a first-rate prodigy of fifteen summers!” Chui-dal puffed out his chest proudly, then felt the shift in mood. “Brother?”

“Chui-dal.”

“Y-yes? Why has it grown so cold?”

“Because you are the only one here who is merely first-rate.”

“What?!” Aside from Yeo Un-hyeok, Yang-hui, Adu, and Je-gal Seol-ha all stood at peak realm.

Chui-dal thought of the Asura Hell Great Law, the agonizing months of torment he had endured, surviving only by imagining this moment.

“Prodigy, you say? Among us, ‘prodigy’ is not the term we use.”

“First-rate scrub duck Chui-dal—it has quite a ring to it, does it not?”

Tears welled in the young man’s eyes.

“Now, are you actually crying?”

Fifteen years old, and weeping in front of a lady for the very first time.