Chapter 5
Chapter 5: Third-rate Martial Family Becomes the Best Under Heaven
Observing the profound solemnity etched across Baek Muryang’s features, Yanghwi found himself thoroughly perplexed.
What could possibly warrant such a reaction?
Even setting aside the unmatched speed of his current progression, he had displayed staggering aptitude from his very first brush with training during his previous life. After all, when an eight-year-old child masters the Heaven-Covering Sword Technique within a mere three years, any further praise becomes entirely redundant.
“Yanghwi. Pay close attention. Inscribe the internal cultivation method I demonstrate into your memory, and then replicate it.”
Having spoken, Baek Muryang settled his stance into the soil and transitioned through a deliberate sequence of physical postures.
The Pear Blossom Six Harmonies Art.
Typically, methods of internal cultivation were seated meditative disciplines focused on gathering and circulating internal qi. Yet the foundational art passed down through the Baek clan consisted solely of the Pear Blossom Six Harmonies Art—a rudimentary hybrid form that melded physical conditioning with basic qi circulation. Legend maintained that an exalted internal cultivation scripture had once belonged to the family, but centuries of neglect had cast it into oblivion.
“Have you committed both the incantations and the stances to memory?”
“I have, Father.”
“Then show me.”
Drawing in a steady breath, Yanghwi set his limbs into motion.
His frame was still tender and unconditioned, lending an inevitable roughness to his execution, yet the profound core and underlying essence of the Pear Blossom Six Harmonies Art were flawlessly realized in every transition.
Baek Muryang’s expression darkened to an even deeper shade of disbelief.
“Yanghwi. You are truly…”
A monster of natural talent.
Even if it was considered a basic method, it required memorizing intricate verses spanning hundreds of characters while maneuvering through exacting postures to properly awaken the meridians and acupoints. How could an eight-year-old perform it with such effortless perfection?
“Heonso. Yeon.”
“Present!”
“Yes, Father.”
“Continue your drills independently for a brief while. I must speak with Yanghwi in confidence.“
Having dismissed his blood children, Baek Muryang guided Yanghwi toward a secluded edge of the grounds.
“Yanghwi.”
“Yes, Father.”
“You may have remained oblivious until now, but heaven has gifted you with peerless martial talent.”
“I am aware, Father.”
A ripple of astonishment crossed Baek Muryang’s face.
“Oh? You already knew?”
“Yes. Brawls were frequent among the vagrant bands in the slums. Whenever I watched men trade blows, it always puzzled me how anyone could fail to evade strikes moving at such a crawl.”
“…I see.”
Baek Muryang fell quiet, deliberating for a heavy interval before speaking again.
“Yanghwi. I believe it is best that I retract my decision to adopt you into this family.”
“Excuse me? What do you mean?”
The sudden shift caught him completely off guard. What could possibly be driving his father to reconsider?
“You are a precious gem left stranded in filth. For our modest, declining Baek clan to hold onto you would merely stifle your potential. Rather than adopting you myself, I intend to place you into the care of my sworn brother.”
“…….”
Baek Muryang’s sworn brother was an esteemed figure within a prestigious orthodox sect.
At that moment, the depth of his father’s consideration became crystal clear.
I revealed far too much too quickly.
Confronted with an unbelievable genius, his father felt no trace of petty possessiveness; instead, he wanted to send the child into an expansive sea where his wings would not be clipped.
Such was the unyielding integrity of the man before him.
Baek Muryang, the Peerless in Chivalry. A righteous man renowned across the martial world for bestowing benevolence without an ounce of self-interest. Throughout all his long wandering in his prior life, Yanghwi had never encountered another soul of such pure, upright character.
“Father.”
“Speak your mind.”
Yanghwi met Baek Muryang’s gaze directly, his eyes clear and unbending.
“It was you who chose me, Father. You extended your hand and offered to make me your son.”
And with that offer came another truth.
“You were not the only one making a choice that day.”
I decided to cast my lot with the Baek clan.
“My name is Baek Yanghwi. I will be the one to elevate the honor of the Baek clan until its renown reverberates across the land. From the exact moment your hand reached out to pull me from the cold, that vow was sealed within my heart.”
“…Yanghwi.”
“I will gladly receive instruction from another master if need be, but I will never abandon this threshold. Nor do I have any desire to become an unfilial son who cannot openly address the father who saved him as ‘Father.'”
I will forge the Baek clan into the greatest martial lineage under the heavens.
Yanghwi offered a serene smile to the visibly shaken patriarch.
“Very well. In any case, building a solid physical foundation takes precedence. We shall consider the future at our leisure.”
Baek Muryang turned to beckon the other two children back over.
Baek Heonso trudged toward them, lips drawn into a bitter pout, whereas Baek Yeonyeon rushed forward with a radiant, bouncy smile.
Watching the young boy’s sullen face, Yanghwi struggled to hold back a smirk.
He resembles an offended blowfish.
The boy’s insolent attitude would require significant reshaping, but looking at his childish petulance was undeniably endearing. No matter how deep the boy’s resentment ran, blood was blood, and a younger brother remained a younger brother.
Yanghwi had never harbored any genuine malice toward Baek Heonso.
He was simply a younger brother who needed a rather thorough correction.
“I must attend to clan business now. Maintain your martial drills for one shichen, take a brief respite, and then proceed with your studies of the classics.”
Having supervised their postures for another shichen, Baek Muryang offered a final word of encouragement and departed from the grounds.
Left behind on the courtyard flagstones were only the three Baek children.
“…….”
A heavy quiet fell over the yard. With the patriarch—their balance and moral pillar—gone, an awkward strain immediately settled between them.
Naturally, Yanghwi felt entirely untroubled, and Baek Yeonyeon was simply oblivious, meaning the discomfort rested squarely on Baek Heonso’s fragile pride.
Just look at him. He is practically seething with spite.
“Hey there, little So.”
“…Who permitted you to speak to me like that? I haven’t acknowledged you as my brother.”
Heonso had always harbored a frail, easily provoked jealousy.
To make matters worse, this dirty newcomer had executed the clan technique with pristine grace, drawing praise and an intimate consultation from their father. For a seven-year-old child whose entire universe revolved around his father’s favor, such a display naturally bred deep hostility.
…Though understanding his feelings certainly didn’t mean excusing his insolence.
A sly grin touched Yanghwi’s lips as he measured the boy.
It was a starkly different sort of warmth compared to the affection he felt toward Baek Yeonyeon.
I intended to start reforming his character regardless, and he’s generously handing me the perfect pretext.
Yanghwi extended his senses across the perimeter, confirming that no adults lingered nearby.
Once he was entirely certain that the beaming little girl was their only audience, Yanghwi shifted his posture, slumping his weight onto one leg with an air of complete irreverence.
“Hey, you little brat.”
“?!”
Baek Heonso stood frozen in pure shock.
Even if their family ranked as a third-rate martial clan, they were still esteemed provincial nobility in the eyes of ordinary citizens. In all his seven years of sheltered existence, Baek Heonso had never once been addressed with such vulgar disrespect.
“Y-You… what did you just call me?”
“Is there another little brat standing in this courtyard besides you?”
Baek Yeonyeon’s arm shot straight toward the sky.
“I’m here too, Brother!”
Her cheerful burst was the polar opposite of her brother’s outrage, her face illuminated by a wide, innocent grin. Her entire posture practically shouted an eagerness to jump into conversation and pepper Yanghwi with endless questions.
It stirred fond recollections of his former life.
Baek Yeonyeon. Gentle and compassionate, little Yeon had inherited every trace of their mother, Jeong Inhwa. Pure as unblemished paper and bright as the early spring sun, she was the type of sister who naturally demanded protection.
Yanghwi turned toward her with an affectionate gaze.
“Our little Yeon isn’t a brat at all. You are a graceful, well-behaved young lady.”
“I am?!”
“Without a doubt.”
“We only met yesterday! How can you tell already, Brother?”
“I know these things instinctively. A single glance tells me everything. For instance…”
Yanghwi shifted his eyes toward the trembling boy.
“I can tell with complete certainty that little So over there detests my very existence.”
While Baek Yeonyeon paused to wonder how anyone could possibly miss something so obvious, Yanghwi stepped closer.
“You arrogant little runt. Adopted or not, I am your senior in years. Did nobody teach you the fundamental courtesy an inferior owes his elder?”
For young Baek Heonso, each passing second brought another wave of bewilderment.
Vulgar street slang he had never encountered in his life, coupled with an intimidating dominance completely severed from the docile act Yanghwi had put on for their father. Baek Heonso’s thoughts spun out of control.
“What is your grievance with me anyway, you rude squirt?”
“I am the true heir of the Baek house! Why under heaven should I submit to a beggar as my elder brother?!”
“First, because Father declared it. Second, because Mother confirmed it. And third, because you are still the one expected to shoulder the family leadership down the road.”
Naturally, a seven-year-old could not comprehend the weight behind those three stipulations.
He was simply consumed by the fury of losing an argument to someone he despised.
“Grrr…”
Watching the boy snort like an infuriated piglet was amusing, but relenting was out of the question.
I cannot afford to pamper him like before.
In the previous life, circumstances had forced Baek Heonso to assume leadership of the family at the tender age of nineteen. Having been overly coddled and shielded, his stubborn, spiteful nature had never been disciplined. Consequently, the family’s assets withered away under his mismanagement, forcing Yanghwi to watch his hard-earned fortunes bleed into nothingness.
“Answer me honestly, little brother. Why can a former beggar not stand as your brother?”
“We don’t share an ounce of blood!”
“Even a sheltered child like you has heard of the Oath of the Peach Garden. Furthermore, Father himself walks the world with a sworn brother.”
“Th-That’s entirely different…”
Cornered and sputtering, Baek Heonso could only shriek in defiance.
“It just cannot be! You were crawling in the gutter!”
With that single scream, Yanghwi determined the exact severity of the correction required.
I cannot permit the future patriarch to grow into a worthless hedonist. With the fierce resolve of Mencius’s mother, I must wield the disciplinary rod.
Yanghwi’s finger snapped forward, catching the shouting boy squarely between the brows.
Thwack!
“Ow! Why did you strike me?!”
“Listen closely, Baek Heonso. Just as you pointed out, I was a vagrant. That means from the day I drew breath, every mouthful of rice I swallowed was earned through my own survival instincts. Tell me, have you ever procured a single meal through your own efforts?”
“Why would anyone boast about such misery?!”
“Because surviving on one’s own merit is a point of pride. If I were cast out into the wilderness this very second, I would endure without hardship. I am questioning whether you could do the same.”
Yanghwi cocked his finger back for a second strike.
Determined not to be humiliated twice, the young noble stepped back to dodge.
Thwack!
Yanghwi’s knuckles found their mark dead center once again, snapping against the boy’s forehead.
“Aaargh!”
“Consider this. The Beggars’ Sect, holding a seat among the venerable Nine Great Sects and One Gang, consists entirely of impoverished wanderers. Would you dare sneer at their members because of their origins?”
Baek Heonso stood mute, tongue-tied.
“No human life in this world is born disposable. Being Father’s kin, you surely inherited some measure of decency and do not reflexively despise others merely for their misfortune.”
Yanghwi was not guessing; he remembered well that Baek Heonso had been fundamentally kind before the weight of life warped him. The boy’s defiance stemmed purely from feeling replaced by an uninvited interloper.
Yanghwi hoisted his practice sword.
“A physical demonstration seems necessary. Raise your weapon.”
“Hmph! Do you think you frighten me?!”
Baek Heonso thrust his wooden sword into a combat stance.
“Baek Heonso. Should you best me, I will grant any condition you name. But should I claim victory, you will address me as ‘Brother’ without hesitation.”
“Do you swear it? A gentleman’s pledge is worth a thousand taels of gold!”
Confidence flooded Baek Heonso’s chest. At seven, he lacked the maturity to recognize the staggering mastery Yanghwi had revealed earlier. He simply assumed that two years of formal training gave him an insurmountable advantage over someone a mere year older who had picked up a wooden sword for the first time this morning.
“I will even yield you three full moves!”
A dry chuckle escaped Yanghwi.
Yielding three moves without possessing the sight to measure an opponent’s depth?
“This little rascal has adopted the worst affectations.”
Closing the distance with calm, measured steps, Yanghwi brought his blade down in a straightforward vertical arc.
The motion seemed so deliberately slow that Baek Heonso easily raised his crossguard to intercept it—yet reality shattered his expectation.
Crack!
As though warping around the defense, Yanghwi’s wooden sword slipped right past the block and struck the crown of the boy’s skull.
“YAAAAAAAGH!”
Watching the boy tumble onto the dirt, clutching his head after barely a single clash, Yanghwi released a tired breath.
“Stand on your feet, boy.”
“Sniffle… uwaaaah…”
Scion of a martial lineage though he was, he was still an overprotected child. The fierce sting of a wooden blade was far more pain than his coddled body could bear.
Listening to the desperate wailing, Yanghwi let his tone grow frostier.
“Up. Unless you wish to taste another strike.”
Thud!
Yanghwi slammed the tip of his wooden blade against the stone paving. The resounding crack sent Baek Heonso scrambling upright in sheer terror, his small frame quivering like a leaf.
“Baek Heonso. A son of a martial lineage never bends before physical agony. Under no circumstance do you drop your weapon. Have you understood me?”
“Y-Yeah… hic…”
“The response is ‘yes,’ not ‘yeah.’ Who taught you to address your elder brother with such casual disrespect?”
“Eek… sniff… y-yes…”
Observing the trembling compliance, Yanghwi nodded inwardly.
Tough discipline is required. Only hardship molds a true man.
“Now, I shall spot you three moves—no, ten full moves. Come at me, So.”
“…….”
Though he heard the taunt, Baek Heonso stood paralyzed, too rattled to initiate an attack. The sheer aura before him was suffocating.
“If you refuse to advance, I shall come to you.”
“Gasp, stay back!”
Driven by sheer panic, Baek Heonso lunged forward recklessly.
“DIIIIE!”
What an audacious little terror.
Screaming for someone’s death over a spar, little brother?
Yanghwi met the incoming thrust with the very tip of his wooden sword.
With a whisper of effort, he guided the boy’s momentum off course, simultaneously tapping Heonso’s waist with his left index finger.
“Power in a downward strike draws from the core, but generating force is vastly different from freezing your muscles in panic.”
Sweeping his foot outward, Yanghwi tripped the boy’s lead leg, catching the collar of his silk robe before he crashed into the dirt to yank him upright again.
“Do not fixate purely on your arms simply because you hold a blade. In martial combat, the roots beneath your feet dictate everything.”
Stroke by stroke, Yanghwi dismantled each flaw as the exchanges unfolded.
“And that makes ten. We are finished.”
Yanghwi rested the tip of his blade lightly over Baek Heonso’s solar plexus.
The boy’s fingers surrendered their tension, letting the wooden weapon clatter uselessly to the flagstones.
Two years of grueling drills… defeated in seconds… by someone who touched a sword for the first time today…
“Sniff… ugh…”
Yanghwi watched the shattered child weep.
The stick had done its duty; now was the moment for the carrot.
“Look here, So.”
Yanghwi reached inside his robes and flicked a piece of silver into the sunlight.
Baek Heonso’s tear-filled eyes instantly stretched wide, the sheer surprise damming his tears mid-fall.
“A silver coin…? Where did you get that kind of money…?”
A single silver coin represented a full day’s hard labor for an adult. To a child of seven, it looked like an insurmountable fortune.
“You saw those shady brutes drop their coin purse yesterday, didn’t you? I stood the closest to the scene. So I helped myself to a piece.”
“W-Why would you steal something like that…?”
Yanghwi smirked.
“Why else? To buy my charming younger siblings something sweet during our first formal gathering. Since we’re on the subject, what do you say we abandon our training for the afternoon and sneak out for some sweets?”
A proper elder brother ought to introduce his siblings to the sweet rebellion of skipping lessons once in a while!
“Yeon, how about it? Want to follow your big brother out into town?”
“Yes! I want to go!”
Watching the little girl jump with pure delight, Baek Heonso muttered in a breath so faint it was barely audible.
“Me… too…”
“Pardon? Speak up, little brother. I can’t quite make that out.”
“Take… me too…”
Even fresh from a humiliating defeat, the lure of sweet treats was far beyond what a seven-year-old appetite could withstand.
Snickering beneath his breath, Yanghwi pulled Baek Heonso to his feet and brushed off the grime.
“You’re caked in dust. Both of you, wash your faces and get into fresh robes!”
“Yes, Brother!”
“Yes…”
Yeon dashed off with light, skipping steps, while So slunk toward the washing quarters, casting wary, hesitant glances over his shoulder.
The ancient balance of reward and punishment truly remained the finest tool for shaping youth.
In any case, the timing was set for today… or was it tomorrow?
Revisiting the sequence of events from his previous existence, Yanghwi organized his agenda for their trip into the streets.
If the pieces fall into place, this will grant the family a powerful connection and yield a substantial fortune. To achieve that… I must locate Gu Ak without delay.
His calculated familiarity in addressing the man as ‘Brother Gu’ the day before had been planted specifically for what was to come. To secure a viable transaction with Gu Ak while trapped in the body of an eight-year-old child, he needed to carve an impression so unnerving it seemed almost supernatural.
“Now then, shall I go collect on my promise and hear Gu Ak call me his elder brother?”
A cunning, knowing smile curved Yanghwi’s lips.
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