Chapter 4
Chapter 4
A heavy stillness enveloped the grounds, broken only when Baek Muryang burst into hearty, booming laughter.
“Hahaha! Hahahaha! I opened our doors out of simple pity, yet it turns out I have brought home a magnificent pillar for our lineage. Wouldn’t every one of you say the same?”
Speaking on behalf of the gathered retainers, Steward Han bowed slightly and offered his reply.
“To disperse such an impending disaster through the sheer power of his words alone—this boy is undoubtedly far beyond the ordinary.”
“What do you think, Steward Han? Looking at it as head of this household, it strikes me that Hwi has placed every soul here under a great debt.”
Steward Han found no words to disagree. Having lived through decades of worldly trials, he recognized the sheer peril the Baek household had narrowly averted better than anyone present.
The boy had claimed he wished to offer them mercy to strip away their pretext for violence. Could a mere child truly have calculated every move in advance?
The very same puzzle occupied Baek Muryang’s mind.
“Tell me, Hwi. Did you anticipate that the Honggyo Gang would march upon our residence?”
Lowering his gaze with practiced modesty, Yanghwi answered.
“The ruffians of the Nahak Gang never bothered holding their tongues around an orphaned beggar they planned to sell off into bondage. I caught them whispering about the Honggyo Gang and simply pieced the rest together.”
To everyone listening, it sounded as though the child had foreseen the entire calamity purely by stitching together stray remarks dropped by common thugs.
And he had accomplished this at only eight years of age.
An astonishing mind. If it is him…
While Baek Muryang had initially welcomed the child after sensing an inexplicable bond of fate, that impulse had undeniably been rooted in pity.
Now, however, compassion gave way to something far greater. Observing Yanghwi, a spark of ambition ignited within Baek Muryang’s chest.
He spent his days toiling relentlessly away from home to keep the clan solvent, while his wife remained confined to her sickbed by frail health.
Because of those heavy burdens, his thoughts had always lingered with worry over his young son and daughter. Yet this youth seemed poised to become not only a stellar guide, but a dependable elder brother who could shoulder the household.
Turning to his retainers, Baek Muryang’s voice rang clear across the courtyard.
“A nameless orphan has shielded our bloodline from ruin. This can only be called a boundless blessing! Since our household owes him such a profound debt, I intend to settle it by offering a true home to one who had only the vast sky as his roof. Does anyone among you contest this choice?”
Jeong Inhwa offered a frail, tender smile from her seat.
“Since the Lord’s heart is decided, cough, his wife will gladly abide by it.”
Steward Han lowered his head once more in deep respect.
“The Lord’s boundless virtue has invited good fortune to our gate. I can only extol your noble character and marvel at such sharp insight.“
With both the matriarch and the head steward lending their full support, nods of agreement rippled through the remaining retainers.
During this exchange, Yanghwi quietly observed the expressions of his two newfound younger siblings, Baek Heonso and Baek Yeonyeon.
Baek Heonso had his cheeks puffed out in a tight, sulky pout, radiating childish displeasure.
Beside him, little Baek Yeonyeon looked on with wide, curious eyes, filled with the innocent wonder of a toddler encountering a fascinating novelty.
So’s reaction is entirely true to form. But little Yeon… she remains as sweet as I remember.
She was three years younger than his current age of eight, and two years younger than the seven-year-old Baek Heonso.
In the life he left behind, Baek Yeonyeon had been the family’s precious light, showered with warmth and adoration by every member of the household.
A sweet girl like her… In this lifetime, I will never permit her to walk that tragic road again.
The sorrowful fate that had claimed Baek Yeonyeon in his previous existence drifted through his thoughts like a bitter shadow.
He remembered the crushing grief of burying his mother at a secluded mountain temple after she lost her long battle with sickness.
He remembered, too, the hidden tragedy behind why his father—a man whose martial cultivation was unexceptional, yet whose disciplined training should have easily carried him past sixty—had departed this world so far ahead of his time.
There are far too many tragedies I must rewrite this time around.
Yet that daunting task did not shake him. Yanghwi held complete certainty that he could turn the tide on every single one of them.
Later that evening.
Having washed away the grime of the streets and changed into fresh, clean attire, Yanghwi settled onto the mattress in his private quarters.
How many years had passed since he last slept upon a proper bed?
In this renewed life, it was certainly his very first occasion.
Unlike his aged, weathered soul, his youthful physical vessel took delight in comforts it had never known since drawing breath.
Ah, sheer bliss.
He felt an overwhelming urge to drift into slumber, yet he forced his torso upright through sheer will.
I have no leisure to squander in rest.
He had returned thirty full years into his past, finding himself inside a pristine body unmarred by old injuries.
He was granted the privilege of stepping onto the martial path anew, starting from the ground up.
In truth, a restless heat had been tingling in his arms and legs all day, begging him to cultivate.
In my former days, I walked out of our gates at twenty and spent eighteen years drifting through the jianghu, only to barely cross into the apex realm near the end.
Even through an objective lens, Yanghwi knew he had been gifted with unmatched natural talent.
His perception of inner energy had been so exceptionally refined that calling it unprecedented throughout history was no exaggeration.
His physical frame and skeletal constitution had been so sturdy that sleeping under bare skies and freezing dew since infancy had never brought him so much as a fever.
He had possessed the rare genius to fathom the deepest core of any martial truth upon a single glance, anchored by a memory that never shed what it once absorbed.
Had I only received the teachings of an eminent orthodox sect back then, I would have reigned as the greatest under heaven.
Setting his pride aside, Yanghwi folded his legs into a lotus position.
It was time to channel the Harmonious Heaven Primordial Art, the internal breathing scripture he had personally forged by dismantling and restructuring his clan’s foundational method, the Pear Blossom Six Harmonies Art.
The torment I endured while creating this manual nearly cost me everything.
Even an ordinary, third-rate martial artist could string together basic cuts and thrusts to claim they had made a sword form.
Once a practitioner broke through to the apex realm, they could intuitively compose fluid movement sequences without ever receiving formal footwork instruction.
And yet…
An internal cultivation scripture could never be authored by anyone beneath the realm of a grandmaster.
The reason was absolute: the slightest miscalculation invited instantaneous demise.
Looking back, it was pure lunacy. Daring to draft a brand-new internal manual when I had barely set foot into the first-rate realm…
The retribution had come in the form of devastating qi deviation. Although good fortune allowed him to survive without losing his life or limbs, it inflicted severe internal scars that tormented him for the rest of his days.
The persistent wounds along his meridians had crippled the free flow of his inner energy.
Yet despite that crippling handicap, I still earned the title of the Greatest Sword Among Wanderers. That alone proves my genius was real.
This life would chart a completely different course. He would never content himself with reigning merely among masterless wanderers.
He brimmed with conviction.
At the bare age of eight, he possessed the ability to engrave both an internal art and a sword style worthy of the name divine arts straight into his mortal frame.
Just how high will I climb this time?
The passing thought hardened into an unbending oath.
I shall become the peerless sword under heaven without fail. No, the undisputed supreme existence under heaven, bar none.
The silhouette of the Namgung noble house, reigning at the pinnacle as the premier family under heaven, loomed across his mind.
He remembered the cold gaze of Namgung Cheonyeong, who had ambushed him at the close of his previous existence under the righteous guise of weeding out a dangerous variable.
“I will not tolerate a house like that wearing the crown of the greatest under heaven. I shall elevate our Baek family to the supreme clan under heaven, whatever it takes.”
He breathed out.
He breathed in.
Within the natural cadence of his steady breathing, the primordial energy of heaven and earth began gathering toward his figure.
The Harmonious Heaven Primordial Art. Blending with heaven and earth to cultivate the source of existence.
The incoming energy flowed through his pathways, refining itself into a boundless, harmonizing true qi capable of merging with all creation.
Is it because this young vessel has never suffered the horrors of qi deviation? How can it feel so remarkably revitalizing?
The inner energy felt exceptionally pure and transparent compared to his memories.
Its clarity was so pristine that he wondered whether the fundamental essence of his qi had transformed entirely.
He had never truly grasped just how grievous a toll that past internal disaster had exacted upon his cultivation.
“Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.”
How many hours had slipped away?
Deep within the stillness of his cultivation, Yanghwi was pulled back to the waking world by a quiet tapping upon the woodwork.
“Young Master, are you awake?”
Pulling the door open, he saw a slender maidservant of perhaps fifteen summers.
“What is the matter?”
“The Lord has commanded your presence at the morning martial drills.”
Baek Muryang left the compound early each day to oversee the family’s trade.
Even with such demanding duties, he never neglected his children’s instruction, making it his iron rule to oversee their practice at daybreak.
“I shall be there at once.”
Though he had remained awake through the dark hours, the steady flow of inner energy had banished all weariness. A tiny seed of martial power had already taken root inside a frame that had previously held nothing.
Tidying his clothes, Yanghwi promptly made his way to the compact courtyard in the middle of the grounds.
“Did you rest well, Hwi? The quarters must have felt strange to you.”
“I have never known such peaceful sleep in my life. Thank you for your kindness, Father.”
“That puts my heart at ease.”
Standing beside Baek Muryang were the sulking Baek Heonso and little Baek Yeonyeon, whose round eyes were brimming with lively curiosity.
“I intentionally did not make you formally greet each other yesterday, thinking you all needed time to settle your minds. Now, come and introduce yourselves.”
Yanghwi shifted his gaze between Baek Heonso and Baek Yeonyeon before offering the opening words.
“As of yesterday, I have been welcomed as your eldest brother, Baek Yanghwi. I hope we look after each other warmly.”
“Hooray, I have another big brother! Brother, I am Baek Yeonyeon!”
Seeing Baek Yeonyeon bounce forward with beaming eyes to announce herself drew a natural, tender smile across his face.
“May I call you Yeon from now on?”
“Yes, Brother!”
She was so utterly delightful that he unconsciously reached out and smoothed her hair.
It was an instinctive gesture carried over from his former life, yet Baek Yeonyeon leaned into his palm without the slightest hesitation.
Just as I remembered, our little Yeon is pure and sweet.
She was entirely different from Baek Heonso, who stood nearby glaring fiercely in his direction.
Little So is as thorny as ever. At least his temperament never wavers.
With Yanghwi’s sudden entrance into the household, this younger brother had abruptly found himself relegated to the second son.
He had harbored bitter jealousy and resentment toward Yanghwi, convinced that his rightful place had been stolen.
In the past, Yanghwi had felt so overwhelmingly grateful just to possess a family that he treated even that hostility with indulgence, yielding at every turn to accommodate Baek Heonso’s whims.
Father was far too gentle to apply the rod, either. In the end, the boy grew entirely crooked.
One of the driving factors behind Yanghwi abandoning the clan the moment he came of age in his former life had been the unbearable hostility of Baek Heonso, who had assumed the mantle of clan head by then.
In this life, So, I will straighten your posture properly.
“Baek Heonso. I am Baek Yanghwi, your older brother. I shall call you So.”
“…Hmph!”
“So! What manner of insolence is that to show your elder brother?”
“…B-but, Father…”
Seeing that Baek Heonso showed not a shred of remorse, Baek Muryang opened his mouth to deliver a stern rebuke, but Yanghwi raised a hand to intervene.
“Father, true brotherly bonds become meaningful only when earned through mutual effort. It troubles me none, so why not grant So a little time to accept me of his own accord?”
“If that is truly how you view it, Hwi… very well. We shall do as you say.”
Baek Muryang watched Yanghwi with a pleased, affectionate gaze before shifting his tone to business.
“Hwi, since you have now stepped into a martial house, your martial path begins this very day.”
“I am ready.”
“Our lineage preserves two ancestral disciplines: an internal cultivation manual known as the Pear Blossom Six Harmonies Art, and our sword style, the Heaven-Covering Sword.”
Yanghwi was more than familiar with them. He knew them so intimately that he had unlocked their ultimate reaches before dismantling and rebuilding them into something entirely superior.
“First, we shall begin with the blade. Our family’s Heaven-Covering Sword Technique is comprised of three forms in all.”
Having demonstrated the sequence of strikes, Baek Muryang stepped back and looked toward Yanghwi.
“Step forward and attempt them.”
Yanghwi silently lifted the practice wooden blade.
How much should I reveal to him?
Weighing how he wished to guide the future, Yanghwi arrived at his decision.
With a swift breath, he drove the wooden weapon forward.
In that singular breath…
Baek Muryang’s eyes stretched wide with disbelief.
“H-how can this…!”
He stood utterly frozen in shock.
The Heaven-Covering Sword displayed by the child was far more exquisite and complete than Baek Muryang’s own execution.
The Heaven-Covering Sword Technique. While its lofty title boasted of blanketing the skies, it was merely an incomplete remnant trimmed down to three lonely forms after losing the vast majority of its ancient heritage.
Even so, it remained an authentic art that could never be grouped with crude, common routines like the Three Powers Sword Technique.
Though fractured and missing its connective threads, the underlying depth within those three movements was formidable.
It was by no means an art that an untrained child could mimic upon seeing it performed a single time.
Yet the Heaven-Covering Sword Technique Yanghwi had just unfurled was sheer, unblemished perfection.
Naturally, Baek Muryang felt the world tilt beneath his feet.
Could he have secretly practiced the Heaven-Covering Sword before… No, impossible.
Though a fleeting fear of their ancestral martial art leaking crossed his mind, Baek Muryang dismissed it immediately.
He had personally examined the boy’s body and confirmed that he had never cultivated a speck of martial strength.
Right now, every muscle in Yanghwi’s small frame was shuddering violently.
The sheer strain of wielding such an advanced technique was tearing into a physique that possessed nowhere near the physical conditioning to support it.
Did not even Shaolin demand that green disciples hold the horse stance for a full twelve months before handing them a manual?
All martial forms, swordsmanship included, fundamentally required the body to be forged through harsh physical labor first.
The violent quivering running through Yanghwi’s limbs was the unmistakable mark of an ordinary child unaccustomed to physical refinement.
How, then, had he managed to execute the Heaven-Covering Sword Technique with such absolute mastery?
“Hwi. Could you walk through the movements once more? Put down the wooden sword this time.”
Though a faint tremor still coursed through his hands, Yanghwi quietly obeyed his father’s instruction.
Empty-handed, he settled into a posture as if gripping an invisible hilt. In that moment, channeling through an unconditioned child’s body, he summoned the three movements that had been carved into the deepest corners of his soul across a lifetime of battle.
The bewilderment written across Baek Muryang’s features turned into sheer awe.
Flawless. It is beyond perfection.
With a physical form that had never engaged in a day of conditioning, the boy had reconstructed forms displayed only once without a single flaw.
The implication behind such a feat was devastatingly obvious.
“Hwi…”
From their very first encounter, Baek Muryang had sensed that this youth walked apart from the rest of the world.
Captivated by a pair of eyes that appeared to have never witnessed worldly warmth, he had extended an invitation into his home.
Yet that decision had been born entirely of his conviction to walk the righteous path, living in accord with the chivalric codes he treasured.
Only now did Baek Muryang comprehend what had truly taken place.
The nameless orphan cast aside in the dirt and filth was, in reality, the most dazzling treasure under heaven.
“I intended only to extend a helping hand in charity… yet a genius seen once in a century has walked straight across my threshold.”
Yet…
Rather than breaking into joyous celebration, Baek Muryang’s features gradually tightened into a heavy, sorrowful mask.
Witnessing that abrupt gloom settle over his father’s face, a ripple of doubt surfaced in Yanghwi’s mind.
Why is he wearing an expression like that?
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