Chapter 449: Instead of “Good job,” Let Me Brag a Bit
Father began preparing the fish.
He skillfully removed the innards and scales with practiced hands, and I watched nervously from a little distance away.
“I’ll do it, Cult Leader.”
“It’s fine.”
At that moment, how could I stay quiet?
“Even a man tugging and stretching the fish with all his loyalty can’t beat my fishing skills.”
I had won the big catch contest against Father.
“This is only natural. Just because someone’s holding a wooden sword doesn’t mean they can’t kill a man wielding a treasured blade, right?”
Father glanced at Hui.
Can’t you do something about that mouth? His expression said it all. Hui gave an awkward smile.
Father was sincere about cooking.
As if to prove it, he reached once more toward the carriage.
“What is it this time?”
Then, the side sack opened, and something flew out again. They were several small bottles. Amazingly, they were seasoning bottles.
Once again, I was moved. Father had even prepared seasonings in case he had to cook during this journey.
The food Father made like that was truly exceptional.
“It’s delicious. Honestly, it tastes better to me than dishes made by skilled chefs.”
A proud sense of satisfaction showed on Father’s face. Somehow, it felt like he enjoyed praise for his cooking more than for his martial arts.
That night, we camped outdoors.
We lit a campfire and lay down. Of course, I couldn’t skip this little prank.
Unlike the first day, I set my bedding far away from Father.
Then Father glanced at me.
“Didn’t you say you’d sleep through the fishy smell?”
“Did I?”
“If your nose disappears, the smell might lessen.”
Father picked up the dagger he had used to clean the fish.
But by the time Father turned toward me, I had already moved my bedding right next to his and was lying down.
“Not sleeping?”
Father gave a faint smile. In that brief smile, I could feel that he was enjoying himself.
Father lay down beside me. Compared to when we went hunting, the distance between us had grown much closer.
“To be honest, it doesn’t smell at all.”
“I know.”
As if dispelling a drunken haze, Father had already released his energy and dispersed the fishy odor into the air.
Lying down, I turned my head and looked at Father. He silently gazed up at the night sky. I wondered what he was thinking.
What else would he be thinking about? A rematch, of course.
“Let’s go one more round with night fishing.”
I laughed loudly. Father was someone who would never regret a loss in martial arts. But fishing was different.
“Are you serious?”
“This time, let’s go for quantity. But we’re switching rods. That old man, the Fisherman of the Eastern Sea—I didn’t like him from the beginning.”
This was my father. It wasn’t that he looked for better conditions because he lost—when he asked for a rematch even after losing, he was willing to take on a disadvantage. I really admired that about him.
“Sounds good.”
Father and I stood up and grabbed our rods. Father took the one I made, and I held the rod of the Fisherman of the Eastern Sea. It was light and fit perfectly in my hand—truly a top-grade item.
“Uncle Hui, I know you’re probably tired of this, but tomorrow morning’s breakfast is fish again, cooked by Father!”
The next morning, Father was cleaning fish.
Night fishing had ended in my victory again. Honestly, I caught fish with every throw. I caught so many that I released all but the ones we needed to eat.
“The rod of the Fisherman of the Eastern Sea in my hand is basically like the Heavenly Demon Sword in your hands, Father.”
I teased him on purpose. If I didn’t, he might have actually felt his pride was hurt.
“I know you let me win. If you’d let me cook, you’d have had to eat a terrible breakfast, right?”
The dagger in Father’s hand, which he had been using to clean fish, came to a halt. From a distance, Hui shook his head as if to say, “That’s enough.” If that dagger came flying toward me, it wouldn’t just be carrying the smell of fish.
Once I shut my mouth, Father’s dagger began moving again.
“Grilled, today.”
I spoke up loudly.
“I’ll light the campfire.”
And so we had grilled fish that Father cooked himself for breakfast.
You might say grilled fish is grilled fish, but unless you’ve tasted fish grilled by the Heavenly Demon, don’t speak too soon. Father’s grilling skills were top-notch too.
Just as we were finishing our meal, our gazes turned to one spot.
We had sensed someone approaching.
Hui started to rise, but Father stopped him.
“Stay put.”
He had already sensed the unseen presence and made his assessment.
Moments later, someone revealed himself.
A man appeared, limping, barely able to stay on his feet.
“Water... Please give me some water.”
Seeing us seemed to relax him, and he collapsed on the spot. Three martial artists in a remote place—you’d think he should have been more tense, but he wasn’t in a state to process his surroundings.
I gave him water first. His clothes were torn, face a mess—he must’ve been wandering the mountains. His swollen ankle looked especially bad.
“How long have you gone without food?”
“Three days? Four? I don’t know...”
I handed him rice and the leftover fish.
“Chew carefully, all right?”
“Thank you.”
Driven by hunger, he didn’t hesitate to eat.
Once he finished the meal, I checked over his condition. Father silently observed me tending to him.
“Your leg is injured.”
At that, the man spoke to me.
“I hurt it after misstepping in the mountains.”
“It’ll be hard to make it to the village on that leg. Let me take a quick look.”
Fortunately, the bone wasn’t broken. I treated the sprained ankle and splinted it with some branches. His expression relaxed as much as my skills were effective.
“Thank you, truly. Thank you so much.”
Only then did the man seem relieved. He had just escaped the terror of possibly dying.
“How did you get lost?”
“I was looking for herbs.”
No matter how I looked at him, he didn’t seem like an herb gatherer.
“Do you have a sick family member or something?”
“No.”
His situation turned out to be entirely unexpected.
The man’s name was Im Gye. He said he ran a village school where he taught children to read and write.
“My father worked as a martial artist for the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult but retired earlier this year.”
This place wasn’t far from the Main Division—it was part of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult’s territory.
Since his father had never properly learned martial arts, he had spent his life as a lower-rank martial artist before retiring.
And this year happened to be his father’s sixtieth birthday.
Im Gye wanted to make his father happy by inviting the Division Leader of the branch his father had once served in. He thought his father would be truly happy if the Division Leader showed up to congratulate him on his birthday.
“But I was told it would cost fifty nyang to invite the Division Leader.”
“Who told you that?”
“There’s someone in the village with a connection to the Division Leader. That person said so. They told me even inviting a famous performer to a banquet costs money. And that the price varies depending on the fame of the person, how long they stay, and so on. For the Division Leader to come briefly, offer congratulations, and leave—it would cost fifty nyang.”
I glanced at Father and asked,
“How much do you get paid, Father?”
At my playful question, a sneer formed at the edge of Father’s lips.
Would he move for a hundred thousand nyang? For a million? Even ten million nyang wouldn’t make him budge.
By that measure, this journey would be worth a truly unimaginable sum if converted into money.
“Even if he gave the money, the Division Leader wouldn’t come.”
At my words, Im Gye asked, surprised,
“What do you mean?”
“If it’s revealed that a high-ranking member of the Cult moved for money on a personal matter, not only would he be dismissed from his position—he might be thrown into prison. There’s no way he’d move for fifty nyang.”
“Ah, I see. I’ve spent my whole life buried in books, so I’m ignorant of how the world works.”
He lowered his head. The fact that he believed my words so readily made it clear. Did he even know who he was talking to?
“That person will pocket the fifty nyang and later say something like, ‘The Division Leader suddenly had an urgent matter come up.’ Then what? Will you go and confront them? Even if you did, do you think they’d return the money?”
This world is full of people who take advantage of someone’s innocence like his.
“When you have good intentions, you tend to believe others do too. But reality isn’t like that, is it?”
Im Gye let out a deeper sigh.
“My father worked his whole life for our family. I wanted to do something for him, but time just keeps passing, and nothing ever goes the way I want.”
“But do you really need to go so far as to invite the Division Leader? Even if he comes, it’s not like he’ll sincerely congratulate your father.”
“You’re right. The Division Leader probably doesn’t even know my father’s name.”
That’s the truth. The branch has hundreds of martial artists—how could the Division Leader possibly remember a lower-rank member?
“Then why?”
“Whenever Father drinks, he always says this. ‘Though I lived as a lower-rank martial artist, though I was just one among many, though I didn’t play a major role...’”
From those words, I could sense the regret—how he had wanted to boast at least once in front of his children but never had the chance.
“So I wanted someone of status to show up, so he could brag just once in front of me. In front of family, relatives, the village. I wanted to give him a chance to raise his voice just once. Rather than simply saying he worked hard, I thought that might be the real gift.”
How could I not understand how he felt?
In wanting to do something for his father, he wasn’t all that different from me on this journey.
“I heard if you find a Millennium Snow Ginseng, it’ll fetch more than a hundred nyang. I knew I wouldn’t find something so rare, but I just couldn’t stay home.”
Tears welled in his eyes.
“I should get going now. Today is my father’s sixtieth birthday celebration. If I hadn’t met such noble people, I might not have even made it back. You are my life’s greatest benefactors. Thank you, truly.”
He bowed his head multiple times before departing from where we were.
* * *
Im Gye, fortunately, made it back home in time.
“Big Brother! What on earth happened?”
Though he had said he’d only be gone a few days, his sister had been worried the whole time, unfamiliar with her brother’s sudden actions.
“Sorry. Things just turned out that way.”
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. How’s the preparation for the birthday?”
“Aunts came and helped out.”
His father, Im Hak, spoke bluntly as he saw him.
“You’re here. That’s enough.”
He hadn’t understood in the past, but now that he was older, he could feel it—his father’s concern and relief.
‘I’m sorry.’
It occurred to him that maybe those days spent wandering the mountains weren’t for his father’s sake—but for his own. So that his heart could be at ease. So he could say, “I did my best.”
Family and relatives gathered, and villagers were invited as well.
But Father didn’t invite anyone from the branch. He insisted he didn’t want to trouble his old comrades.
I could feel his worry. Who would care about the sixtieth birthday of a retired, low-ranking martial artist? If he invited them and no one came, it would be unbearable humiliation in front of his children.
And when people gather, there’s always that one person.
“Looks like no one from the Demonic Cult showed up, huh?”
The speaker was the official-in-charge who ran the village martial arts hall. Back when Father belonged to the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, even as a lower-rank member, this man hadn’t dared to treat him lightly.
But now that Father had left the Cult, his attitude and eyes had completely changed.
“He didn’t invite them. Didn’t want to bother busy people.”
“Or maybe he invited them and they just didn’t come?”
It wasn’t that he harbored malice—he was just someone who always had a way of making things sound unpleasant. You know the type: the kind of person who can say something ordinary and still make it sting.
Still, it was a day to let things go. Showing displeasure wasn’t an option—after all, he was the head of the martial arts hall and someone who had properly trained in martial arts.
“Just joking, just joking. Why so serious? Getting old must be making you overly sensitive.”
He made sure to ruin the mood to the very end.
And then, it happened.
The doors opened, and a group of guests entered. Armed martial artists stepped inside in formation, and the hall immediately fell silent.
Recognizing them, Im Hak was stunned.
“Division Leader!”
Amazingly, the Division Leader and old comrades from the branch had come to the celebration. Not only Im Gye, but even the villagers were shocked.
“Martial Artist Im, I heard it’s your sixtieth birthday. We came to congratulate you.”
Im Hak was so surprised and flustered he didn’t know what to do.
Junior colleagues he had worked with came to celebrate him. Some had been close friends, others not particularly so—but all had come together.
“Please, have a seat.”
“No, today’s your day. You should take the seat of honor.”
The Division Leader treated him with full courtesy. While it was puzzling how he knew and why he was showing such respect, Im Hak couldn’t deny the immense joy rising within him.
His son and daughter were watching. So were the villagers. The official-in-charge, who had spoken carelessly, now sat with a completely subdued expression, watching the scene unfold.
“If you ever run into trouble, don’t hesitate to contact me.”
“Thank you, Division Leader.”
Im Hak was overjoyed—but at the same time, he couldn’t quite understand what was happening.
While working as a lower-rank martial artist, he had served under many Division Leaders—but not once had he ever shared a private conversation with any of them. It was the same with the current Division Leader. The man probably didn’t even know his name.
Now, that secret was revealed. The Division Leader, looking just as puzzled, spoke carefully.
“Somehow, he knew. He sent this.”
The Division Leader cautiously took out a small box he had been keeping in his robe.
Seeing the man’s hand trembling, Im Hak grew tense along with him. What could it possibly be?
“Here, take it and open it.”
Caught off guard, Im Hak took the box and opened it.
Amazingly, inside was a Millennium Snow Ginseng.
“To receive such a precious gift…!”
Im Hak’s hands shook as he held the box. Im Gye, along with the villagers, came closer to look at the Millennium Snow Ginseng.
But what would truly shock Im Hak was still to come.
“It’s not my gift.”
At the Division Leader’s words, Im Hak unfolded the piece of paper that had been inside the box.
After reading its contents, Im Hak’s eyes widened. Im Gye, seeing his father react this way for the first time, checked the message himself—and screamed. The villagers gasped in shock.
Im Hak set the box down and bowed deeply. Im Gye bowed as well.
Tears rolled from Im Hak’s eyes and landed on the wrinkled back of his hand. He had entered the Cult at seventeen and lived a life of hardship ever since.
To support his children, he had endured pain, faced death multiple times, and pressed forward through every hardship.
And now, a short message written on a slip of paper had washed away all those years of struggle.
-To one who has devoted himself to the Main Cult, I offer my sincere gratitude.
-Heavenly Demon Divine Cult Cult Leader Geom Woojin.