Moyong Tae, the Baekcheongeomju (Lord of the White Sky Sword), was a man who once vied for the title of Sword King with the current Blue Sky Sword King, Namgung Jin.
Of course, there were many others who also aimed for the title, but it’s a testament to how formidable Moyong Tae was as a martial artist. Although he’s now considered the weakest among the four great family heads, it’s because he has focused more on the trading side than on the martial arts aspect of his family’s position.
He is more of a family head than a warrior, and more of a father than anything else. That was the Baekcheongeomju I knew.
So far, so good.
It doesn’t really matter to me if he’s concentrating elsewhere rather than on the path of a warrior. What matters now is why this man is here, right now.
His grip on my shoulder tightened.
“...”
When I looked up, his gaze was nothing short of terrifying. If he’d reached the level of Simgeom (Sword Intent), would I still be here with my head attached?
‘This is troublesome...’
What to make of this situation? I pondered briefly, but the answer was obvious.
‘What kind of situation is this? A f***ed one.’
No answer felt more fitting.
“G...gajoo-nim?”
Moyong Heea, standing in shock, addressed Baekcheongeomju. His gaze, which had been fixed on me with murderous intent, shifted to her, and his expression immediately softened.
"How have you been?"
"Wh...why are you here…?"
"Are you hurt anywhere?"
Though she was visibly flustered, Baekcheongeomju was busy inspecting her for any injuries.
“Did you eat? I told you to never skip meals, so I trust you’ve kept to that.”
“…”
His grip tightened further. This was getting painful.
Moyong Heea, now looking at Baekcheongeomju, asked, “…Sir, there are still seven days left until the Gathering. What brings you here early?”
“A father doesn’t know how his daughter is doing—how can I be called a father then?”
Baekcheongeomju's words carried a surprising warmth. It was hard to imagine someone in his position showing such a casual demeanor.
Realizing something, Moyong Heea widened her eyes and asked, “Then, you came alone?”
“The elders and the sword squad will arrive later.”
Meaning he was here alone. An entire family head traveled without his guards and attendants.
‘So, he discarded all pretenses of formality, huh?’
He really was a remarkable person, in more ways than one. I noticed Moyong Heea furrowing her brows, clearly the most shocked by this.
"Why would you do that? People are watching, and there’s the family’s reputation to consider!"
When she questioned him, he replied with a subtle expression, “Reputation is never more important than my child.”
Baekcheongeomju said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and Moyong Heea fell silent. Ah, she’s weak against this kind of stuff.
Seeing Moyong Heea’s reaction, Baekcheongeomju chuckled and said, “Besides…”
He turned his gaze back to me.
“I don’t know which scoundrel might be trying to take my precious daughter. What does reputation matter in comparison?”
A cold sweat broke out. He definitely knew. He knew who I was.
Not knowing would’ve been strange, really. Our conversation flashed back through my mind:
He has a fiancée but is flirting with another woman. He broke off his engagement to meet with someone else’s daughter. It turns out he’s seeing multiple women. "..."
I thought only a crazy bastard would do such a thing.
And that crazy bastard was me.
‘…It’s me.’
Baekcheongeomju’s ominous words echoed in my mind. Something about breaking all my limbs, wasn’t it?
I recalled nodding along in agreement, thinking it was a good idea.
‘Hmm...’
As I recalled that, I nodded slightly.
What a lunatic. I really dug my own grave here.
‘Are these flashing memories a death omen?’
It might be. Even when I died in my past life, I didn’t get such flashes. Why now?
“So. Young hero, I haven’t yet heard an answer to my question.”
“Um…”
“What is your name?”
The look in his eyes was full of certainty. He was asking again for confirmation, just to be thorough.
What should I do? It doesn’t seem like I can avoid answering.
‘Should I throw out “Gu Jeolyeop”?’
Gu Jeolyeop was the first name that came to mind. I’d used that name to weasel out of situations like this before—whether with Namgung Bi-ah or Dang Soyeol. It’s always a handy name in a pinch.
‘But I don’t think he’d buy it this time.’
Gu Jeolyeop’s name was getting recognized lately. It’s becoming harder to use.
In the end, it seemed I had no choice but to reveal my actual name.
“…I…”
I wondered what would happen if I revealed my name and he decided to draw his sword. The tension pressing on my back was no lie.
This wasn’t a matter of winning or losing. It was about Baekcheongeomju, Moyong Heea’s father, wielding a sword against me.
I really didn’t want to fight him, so I took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and spoke.
“Honored lord of the Moyong family, I am Gu from the Gu family…”
“Dad.”
As I was about to say my name, Moyong Heea ran up and clung to Baekcheongeomju’s arm.
Wait… did she just call him Dad?
“Can we not do this here? Let’s head back to the inn; you must be tired.”
“Daughter. I’m sorry, but I have something more to say to this damned…”
Baekcheongeomju’s hand pointed at me. He went from calling me “young hero” to “damned” in an instant.
This is definitely not good…
“Iiiing!”
...Huh?
A sound pierced my ears, and I turned to see Moyong Heea’s face as red as a tomato. Was I hearing things? It was definitely coming from her direction.
“Daddy, I want something to eat… Can we go now?”
Pff.
I glanced at Peng Ah-hee, who was barely holding back laughter, a spurt of water escaping her lips.
Goosebumps covered my arms and neck. What was with that sugary voice?
‘...’
I couldn’t think of anything else. The fact that Moyong Heea, of all people, was capable of making that sound, and in that manner, left me dumbfounded.
Could I still be seeing my life flash before my eyes? Or had I entered a hallucination?
Moyong Heea’s coquettish voice instantly chilled the air. The intense atmosphere had frozen over.
I checked on Moyong Heea, and her ears were bright red. She must’ve been embarrassed too.
‘Of course. If I’d acted like that with my father, I’d have bitten my own tongue and died right there.’
In any case, Moyong Heea had some plan in mind, but I didn’t think Baekcheongeomju would be the type to let this slide.
“Haha. Why not? If my dear daughter wants something to eat, that’s our priority.”
So I was wrong.
The fearsome man who seemed ready to tear me apart was suddenly gone, replaced by a doting father.
Seeing this, Moyong Heea quickly began pulling him out of the inn. Baekcheongeomju’s feet moved eagerly along with her, surprisingly compliant.
As they made their way out, I heard a whisper.
–I’ll see you later.
“...”
It was Baekcheongeomju’s telepathic message, a clear indication he wouldn’t let me off. Why did it sound like he was saying, “Wash your neck and wait”?
A figment of my imagination?
‘…Hardly.’
Imagination, my foot. I was sure Moyong Heea had saved my skin by giving it her all.
Otherwise, she wouldn’t have resorted to “Daddy” or “Iiiing” or… any of that.
The normally cool and rational Moyong Heea wouldn’t have done it on a whim. She must’ve really prepared herself.
Now, what to do? Though Moyong Heea had managed to pull Baekcheongeomju away for now, he’d definitely return.
Should I run for it?
‘No chance.’
Where would I go? In seven days, I still had to attend the Gathering.
As I was fretting over what to do, I overheard a conversation from the table where my companions were seated.
“Hey, Soyeol.”
“Yeah?”
Peng Ah-hee addressed Dang Soyeol, who still seemed stunned from the earlier spectacle.
With a serious look, Peng Ah-hee asked, “…If I call Moyong Heea ‘Lady Iiiing’ later…”
“Yeah?”
“Will I get in trouble?”
The atmosphere chilled once more.
Would she get in trouble for that?
‘She’ll be dead before me at this rate.’
No doubt about it. If Peng Ah-hee called Moyong Heea that to her face, she’d be turned into dust on the spot.
“Lady Iiiing”... It sounds ridiculous.
Pff.
I turned my head, and everyone around me was barely holding back their laughter. When I glanced back, all faces were neutral, but I could tell they were eyeing someone.
And there she was, pretending to be innocent—Namgung Bi-ah.
******************
Several days passed since I had faced that storm in the inn.
I spent each night with my nerves wound tight, expecting the possibility of an assassin’s visit.
It might sound paranoid, but after seeing the look in Baekcheongeomju’s eyes, I felt he was more than capable of such a thing. However, my worries were groundless—nothing of the sort occurred.
Ever since Baekcheongeomju left the inn with Moyong Heea that day, he had not shown himself for days. The same went for Moyong Heea.
Perhaps…
‘Is Moyong Heea keeping him in check?’
Using that “Iiiing” or “Aiiing” again…?
‘If that’s the case, she’s putting in some serious effort.’
Thinking about it, I couldn’t help but nod. I even felt a rare sense of gratitude toward Moyong Heea.
But then, I had another thought.
‘What if Moyong Heea talks like that at home?’
It was a curious notion that had been crossing my mind lately. The way she naturally let those words slip out made me wonder if, in private, she actually used that tone and those words with her family.
‘No way.’
I quickly dismissed the idea. There was no way that Moyong Heea, with all her pride, would do something like that.
“Have you finished your musings?”
“…Yes.”
As I was catching my breath, someone spoke to me. It was Pejon. He would often show up when I was training, though I never really knew what he did the rest of the time.
At the moment, I was practicing punches in a cave, as always, and Pejon inspected my form, laughing to himself.
“How does it feel?”
“Not good. I feel like I’m dying.”
It wasn’t going well at all. I had almost blacked out from pain over five times today alone.
Pejon, however, seemed pleased and simply laughed.
“…I’m just throwing punches. Is this really doing anything?”
It was a fundamental question. I knew how incredible the inner technique of Tu-a-Pa-Cheon-Mu was.
If I could still feel myself getting stronger even now, it meant the efficiency of the technique was beyond reason.
But why was I supposed to be punching this cave in particular? I still had no idea what the intent was behind this training.
Pejon looked at me with a peculiar expression.
“You still don’t understand the significance of what you’re doing, do you?”
“What?”
“You said yourself that it’s painful.”
“That’s just how it feels…”
“Do you think an ordinary human could keep throwing punches through that kind of pain?”
“…”
“I knew from the first day. You must become my disciple.”
I guess he meant how, from the very first day I learned the inner technique, I’d continued to punch this cave as instructed.
“All that from just this?”
“One day, maybe. Two days, it gets harder, and beyond that, most wouldn’t last with their sanity intact.”
I could see his point.
The inner technique of Tu-a-Pa-Cheon-Mu .
The pain inflicted by Tu-a-Pa-Cheon-Gong was beyond imagination.
But, if I could endure the pain, I could grow stronger.
Pain was nothing compared to the helplessness and self-loathing I’d felt when I had no strength.
Pejon grinned as if pleased with himself, seeing my expression still somewhat skeptical.
“Your twisted nature concerns me, but as a teacher, I find it reassuring.”
“Calling me twisted, that’s harsh…”
“It means I’m looking forward to it. Finish quickly, and I can finally teach you how to throw a true punch.”
At that, I felt a wave of disappointment wash over me.
“So, after all this suffering, I learn to throw one punch?”
“Of course, that’s the purpose of the hardship.”
It was absurd, but I kept throwing punches.
“Hey, kid.”
In the middle of my punches, I paused and turned to Pejon.
“Isn’t it time for you to be going?”
“…”
His words made me frown.
I’d been pretending to forget about it, hoping I could just skip it, but Pejon had brought it up.
“…Yes, I suppose.”
Sighing deeply, I put on my outer garment, which I’d thrown into the corner of the cave.
Today was the day of the Jeongpa Gathering, and I had no choice but to attend.
Baekcheongeomju would surely be there, along with…
All the heads of the four great families, including Baekcheongeomju, Moyong Tae.
I swallowed hard. It was sure to be a chaotic event, no doubt.
I looked at Pejon and asked, “Are you coming along, Elder?”
Given that Pejon was somewhat connected to the Biga clan, I wondered if he might attend as well.
Pejon smiled mischievously and said, “Why would I?”
“…”
The most irritating expression in the world.