Chapter 9
Chapter 9: Third-rate Martial Family Becomes the Best Under Heaven
“Dispatching a missive to Nanchang? What reason could there be?”
“I intend to forward a manuscript I drafted to the Baekseo antiquarian bookshop in Nanchang.”
“Is that so? And what are your intentions with it?”
“Are you aware, perhaps, that Father presented me with a stipend that far exceeds what someone of my years ought to possess?”
“Naturally. You brought about a remarkable accomplishment a month ago.”
Even though prudence concerning the Cheongsa Gang had kept them from spending that wealth without restraint, Jeong Inhwa knew through Lord Baek Muryang that a considerable fortune had come into their hands.
“To speak plainly, my wish is to conduct a modest commercial transaction with the Baekseo antiquarian bookshop.”
“Do you mean to trade the story you penned for silver?”
“Indeed.”
“Hmm…”
Though the vast majority of her existence had been confined to the inner courtyard, Jeong Inhwa was far from a foolish person.
As the common saying went, literature served as sustenance for the intellect. Through the endless hours she had occupied reading in her chambers, she had developed a keen familiarity with how the outside world operated.
In her eyes, generating wealth by purveying popular fiction was no simple undertaking.
The nobility and scholars looked down upon entertaining fiction, whereas bound manuscripts crafted with costly parchment demanded an exorbitant sum.
“I doubt the wisdom of this course. Cliff of Severed Love was unquestionably fascinating, yet ordinary folk would much rather pay a copper to a street storyteller than purchase a bound volume.”
“I am of the same mind.”
Common folk possessing meager purses almost universally favored tossing a coin or two to a street raconteur over acquiring an expensive book.
Meanwhile, members of the aristocratic class held reputations in paramount regard, deliberately choosing the classical works of Confucius and Mencius to adorn their shelves instead of trivial fiction or colloquial tales.
Attempting to distribute fiction through printed texts was hardly a promising path to wealth.
Even so, Yanghwi remained completely confident.
Ilpilhwiseo. I merely have to replicate that man’s playbook.
Roughly a decade and a half from the present era, a literatus adopting the pen name Ilpilhwiseo would make his grand entrance upon Jianghu.
Famed for composing entire epics in a single sitting the instant his brush met parchment, he stood as the mind behind more than half the famous fiction Yanghwi could recall.
Despite authoring nothing more than common fiction, Ilpilhwiseo had attained universal renown as a literary titan.
No one contested his genius: every page drafted by Ilpilhwiseo possessed an intrinsic quality that made countless people yearn to peruse it and preserve it across generations.
The explanation was simple.
Every composition flowing from his hand was steeped in a deep, enigmatic qi, and the pacing of his narratives was so gripping that readers found it impossible to tear their eyes away.
Ilpilhwiseo rose to such towering fame that even prominent noble lineages began following the fashion of acquiring his volumes to furnish their private libraries.
Yet his brazen pride drove him past all permissible boundaries, orchestrating his eventual destruction.
He exploited his literary prestige to toy with the hearts of numerous maidens.
In time, he even laid hands upon the mistress of one of the Five Great Houses, resulting in his body being chopped into mincemeat.
“I believe encountering adversity during one’s formative years provides the very nourishment required for development. I wish to undertake this endeavor, so I beseech you to grant your consent.”
Jeong Inhwa paused in silent reflection.
Beginning with their very first encounter, this boy had exhibited an intellect far surpassing the ordinary.
On that perilous day, the Baek clan had found itself on the precipice of ruin, only to emerge unscathed due entirely to his ingenuity.
In addition to that, he commanded a startling aptitude for the martial path.
Even if it was branded a third-rate clan, a family of warriors remained bound to the code of martial arts. In the span of a single month, Yanghwi had earned the unreserved admiration of every retainer across the estate.
My husband remarked that he possessed heaven-gifted martial talent.
A youth blessed with martial brilliance granted directly by the heavens above.
What was more, if he had truly conceived and composed the very tale she had recently finished reading, his gifts with the brush were entirely equal to his prowess with the blade.
“Hwi.”
“I am listening, Mother.”
“I find myself questioning whether you truly walk this earth as an eight-year-old child. It makes one suspect a Daoist immortal might have mastered the art of youthful rejuvenation to wander the world in the guise of a toddler.”
It was only reasonable that such suspicions crossed her mind. Yanghwi understood full well that his recent conduct had unfolded with uncharacteristic haste.
All the same, circumstance afforded him no other option.
If I hope to forge this house into the preeminent noble clan under heaven before my remaining lifespan runs dry, the hourglass is running out.
That urgency was precisely why he continued to take steps that provoked astonishment, awe, and occasionally suspicion in all who witnessed him.
“Such a thing could not possibly be. Since the day of my birth, I have simply observed and absorbed far more than other children.”
“Indeed, that must be the truth of it. Very well. I shall dispatch an attendant toward Nanchang, so make your correspondence ready.”
“My deepest thanks, Mother.”
Having secured her consent, Yanghwi bowed respectfully and departed from Jeong Inhwa’s private chambers.
He promptly finalized the correspondence intended to travel alongside the bound volume, delivering the package into the hands of the retainer tasked with riding toward Nanchang.
Anyone else might disregard it, but if she is truly the Chu Yongwol of my memories, she will never let this slip past.
Yanghwi held absolute certainty in his heart. The moment Chu Yongwol’s eyes scanned that letter and the manuscript beside it, she would hasten toward the Baek Estate without a second’s delay.
Should every piece fall into place as intended, the Baek house shall establish a flourishing stream of silver entirely free from competition.
The standard avenue through which a martial clan amassed its coin involved operating security convoys or stationing martial artists within taverns and houses of pleasure.
Setting aside the reality that most retainers possessed modest martial cultivation, the Baek house was currently in no position to construct a steady enterprise through those traditional methods.
Practically all the drinking houses and entertainment quarters throughout Ak’an County remain under the grip of dark-path sects.
Far beyond simple custodial protection, those establishments functioned as the de facto property of the criminal underworld.
The second the Baek house made a move to insert itself, those dark-path sects would interpret the action as an incursion upon their domain and bare their fangs without hesitation.
Granted, methods exist to circumvent that hurdle, and the household must ultimately step into the escort trade so the retainers can hone their practical experience.
Yet, with that path currently closed, they had to establish an alternate commercial enterprise to generate funds.
An extraordinary martial practitioner could never be properly nurtured without boundless financial support to fuel the process.
Bearing that in mind…
I must also transmit the martial arts I forged in my previous life as swiftly as possible.
The Harmonious Heaven Primordial Art and the Hundred and Eight Heaven-Splitting Swords, which he had perfected across more than a decade of wandering the roads of Jianghu as a vagrant in his past existence.
Setting the sword technique aside for the moment, the Harmonious Heaven Primordial Art demanded swift distribution.
The cultivation of internal energy was best initiated in youth, paired with an extraordinary cultivation technique to lay the groundwork.
A plausible justification is required. What pretext would serve best?
He could never confess to having devised the method on his own.
Regardless of how monstrous a prodigy might be, the notion of an eight-year-old boy concocting an extraordinary divine art was utterly preposterous.
That reality dictated that he must transmit the martial technique through some plausible intermediary that would deflect unwanted scrutiny…
Borrowing someone else’s identity remains the most effective course.
Setting aside the immediate bloodline of the Lord of the House, twelve retainers served within the Baek Estate.
Four traced their lineages to vassal houses that had pledged loyalty to the Baek clan across multiple generations, while the remaining eight—young and old alike—were individuals who had either been rescued from death by the clan or were orphans taken in and raised under the household’s banner from infancy.
“Young Master, your dedication to the blade is unmatched again today!”
“Young Master, should any scoundrel dare treat you with contempt, bring the matter to me. I shall beat him within an inch of his life.”
“Young Master So, keep firmly in mind that you are the pillar destined to uphold this clan’s prosperity.”
To their eyes, Baek Heonso stood as the sole son of Lord Baek Muryang and the legitimate firstborn successor of the very Baek lineage that had preserved their lives. From his infancy onward, Baek Heonso had been nurtured in an environment overflowing with the devotion and aspirations of every retainer.
This upbringing had molded the young Heonso into a boy who hungered for validation and discovered his purpose in meeting the hopes of those around him.
In all honesty, circumstances had left him with no alternative.
Things might have played out differently had that wellspring of affection, expectation, and praise been limitless, but the existence of his younger sister, Baek Yeonyeon, made the harsh reality plain.
Yeonyeon was the precious flower of the household, adored unconditionally by every soul under the Baek roof.
Even Heonso found himself powerless against her charm, pampering the little girl rather than feeling bitter over how completely she monopolized the family’s warmth.
Consequently, the solitary path left open to Baek Heonso was to labor tirelessly, master his lessons, demonstrate clear results, and harvest admiration through sheer sweat.
“You execute the forms of the Heaven-Covering Sword with such grace already. Truly marvelous, my child.”
“Though exceptional talent is a rare treasure, Young Master So’s relentless dedication ensures he will achieve remarkable renown.”
“So, you fill my chest with immense pride.”
Ever since his hands first gripped the hilt of a wooden blade at five years of age, Baek Heonso had never neglected his training for a single dawn.
Unlike Baek Yeonyeon, who would pout and demand rest whenever a slight ailment troubled her, he had never permitted himself a moment of respite.
Whenever exhaustion threatened to break his resolve, he would forge ahead by repeating a singular vow:
I am the eldest male of the Baek lineage. The future Lord of the House. The master destined to guide all our people.
It was precisely for this reason that, when a nameless stray boy was brought into the manor and proclaimed to be his elder brother, resentment rather than welcome had surged up within his chest.
I am standing right here, so why embrace an outsider as a son rather than a servant!
For a child whose entire sense of self was anchored to the validation of others, Yanghwi’s sudden entrance registered as an existential threat.
He harbored resentment, felt an instinctive prickle of irritation, and nurtured a growing bitterness toward him.
When those suppressed grievances leaked out through petulant childish defiance, retribution had landed upon him swiftly.
— You insolent little punk.
Unprecedented words that had never struck his ears in his entire life, followed by a sharp physical reprimand disguised under the label of a martial exchange.
The memory of that afternoon remained branded into Baek Heonso’s mind with absolute clarity.
Yanghwi’s entire presence represented a disruption unlike anything he had ever known.
Nor did that jarring upheaval fade following their first clash.
— So. When unleashing the opening form of the Heaven-Covering Sword, your priority must be channeling the force surging from your stance smoothly, without a single break in momentum.
On the very afternoon he first wielded a sword, this new brother had completely outstripped his own proficiency.
— While cycling the Pear Blossom Six Harmonies Art, demand everything your muscles can endure, regardless of how fierce the burn becomes. Only through such rigor will your physical vessel truly temper itself.
Not only regarding the art of the sword; his brother had also completely grasped the intricacies of the Pear Blossom Six Harmonies Art within mere days, casually distributing unsolicited guidance and corrections.
He only wishes to flaunt that he is a prodigy. He is scheming to strip away my praise.
Such had been his initial conviction.
Yet before long, he realized the reality was entirely different.
— Excellent. That is precisely the method. Well fought, So. Splendid execution. Exactly what one expects from Father’s blood.
Praise offered freely and sincerely by his brother, reassuring him that he was truly worthy of their father—the towering figure he revered above all others in the realm.
— Younger Brother, you stand as the stoutest pillar supporting the Baek house. The burden resting upon your back must feel crushing, but I shall stand beside you to shoulder the weight, so keep your head high. Do you hear me?
Solace extended by his brother, volunteering to share the crushing load of expectations that Heonso had silently borne all alone, without ever daring to confess the agony to a living soul.
— Take these coins, everyone. A token of gratitude granted to honor your loyal service to our household.
When their father abruptly distributed gifts of silver and gold among all the retainers, the origin of that wealth had likewise been secured by this newly arrived brother.
What was more, the fortune handed out was whispered to be nothing more than a small fraction of the total haul.
It stood as a staggering accomplishment that Baek Heonso could never have dreamed of achieving.
Envy.
A venomous sentiment aimed at a peer viewed as an equal whenever that person forged ahead.
When the opposite party unveiled an ability that was not merely superior, but completely beyond reach, the heart could not even summon the capacity for envy.
The singular sentiment that rushed to fill that vacated space was pure, unadulterated reverence.
Brother… Yanghwi-hyung…
This represented a staggering transformation compared to Yanghwi’s prior incarnation.
In his preceding life, Yanghwi had wandered the earth as a parentless street urchin.
He had spent his youth starving for genuine warmth, blinded by the dizzying gratification of possessing a true family for the first time.
While he had genuinely treasured Baek Heonso as his kin and younger brother, he had never possessed the maturity to peer deep into the boy’s fragile heart or tend to his silent wounds.
This second life was different.
Sharing the bulk of his waking hours alongside his siblings, he fulfilled the obligations of an elder brother with absolute sincerity.
So this is the true essence of possessing an older brother…
One who had never known an elder brother could never fathom what sort of presence and security such an individual represented.
That ignorance was precisely why Baek Heonso had tasted bitter envy and instinctive rejection when Yanghwi first stepped into the estate claiming brotherhood.
Even so…
— Why did I squirrel away a portion of the silver? To purchase sweet delicacies for our younger siblings, naturally!
Observing Yanghwi day by day, Baek Heonso was discovering the true meaning of having an elder brother and what an immeasurable pillar of strength such a person could become.
Unlike parents, who formed one’s family yet belonged to a distant generation, an older brother walked right by one’s side.
A dependable champion against whom one could lean and place unconditional trust.
Within the soil of Baek Heonso’s heart, Yanghwi had established himself as precisely that irreplaceable presence.
And at this very moment, that exact Yanghwi—
The elder brother who had executed the impossible against common ruffians from the day he set foot within the Baek Estate, continually leaving the household speechless—
Had provoked yet another tempest.
“Ilpilhwiseo! The very moment your correspondence reached our Baekseo antiquarian bookshop, I dashed here without stopping for breath!”
A maiden who seemed barely twenty years of age, garbed from head to foot in shimmering silk garments.
Catching sight of his brother offering her a sly, knowing grin, Baek Heonso could only reflect in silence:
My brother has orchestrated another unearthly… magnificent spectacle.
“Ilpilhwiseo-o! Noble author who delivered Eastern Lands, Western Earth into this maiden’s hands, step forward and present yourself at once!”
Comments for chapter "Chapter 9"
MANGA DISCUSSION
Madara Info
Madara stands as a beacon for those desiring to craft a captivating online comic and manga reading platform on WordPress
For custom work request, please send email to wpstylish(at)gmail(dot)com