It was just past noon, and Gu Yangcheon was deep into his training within the cave.
Meanwhile, Baek Hwaju Mi Horan, mistress of the Gu family and a renowned head of a merchant guild in the central plains, was meeting with her husband.
The quiet was punctuated by the faint, rhythmic sound of a waterwheel turning in the distance.
Three teacups were placed on the table, with two of them emitting a gentle steam.
Mi Horan, with steady hands, lifted her teacup and took a silent sip, moistening her throat before addressing her husband.
"Did you have a good talk?"
Her voice was as even and unchanging as ever, but her expression was cold, chillingly so.
Gu Cheolwoon, well aware of her demeanor, avoided her gaze. Mi Horan, observing him, continued.
"You must have talked so well that you managed to leave our child with bruised, blue eyes."
"…"
"Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
The calmness in her tone was somehow more intimidating than any raised voice. Despite being an ordinary person without any martial arts ability, Mi Horan's presence was daunting.
Even Gu Cheolwoon, with the faint heat radiating from him, felt the room’s temperature drop under her gaze.
Clearing his throat, he finally replied, "There were… some issues."
"Of course there were. If there weren’t, we’d have a real problem."
What kind of problem, he wasn’t sure, but he knew it wouldn’t be pleasant.
Mi Horan sighed at Gu Cheolwoon’s evasive manner.
"I won’t say much since it seems you managed to work things out, but… I am a bit disappointed that you marred his precious face."
Precious face?
Gu Cheolwoon regarded Mi Horan with a curious look. He might have considered Yangcheon his son, but precious was not how he would describe him.
"I had no other choice."
It was true. The energy Yangcheon had been radiating that day was far from ordinary, more like a dangerous force concealed as inner strength.
He immediately recognized the aura as similar to the one he’d once sensed from Paejon, and seeing Yangcheon wielding not one but two types of energy—his body ready to explode—he had acted instinctively.
He couldn’t stand by and watch his son destroy himself.
Mi Horan, as if reading his mind, spoke again.
"Is there anything you ‘had no choice’ but to do?"
"This time… I truly had no choice."
A delicate frown appeared on Mi Horan’s graceful forehead.
"You promised not to leave a mark on him."
"It was during a sparring session, so it was… unavoidable."
"You said you’d talk to him, not spar. Was that body-to-body talk?"
Gu Cheolwoon coughed and took a sip of tea. Mi Horan watched him with a mixture of frustration and a hint of relief.
‘He seems a bit lighter.’
There was a noticeable decrease in the heaviness that usually enveloped him.
But seeing the bruises on their son's eyes was still hard to forgive.
‘Where could there be a place on that child’s face for such marks?’
Yet she restrained herself, not fully expressing her anger, as her own guilt mirrored his.
The sight of the women who had been about to draw their swords upon seeing Yangcheon’s bruises brought a sense of satisfaction to Mi Horan.
The woman called Namgung Bi-ah had already solidified her position as Yangcheon’s fiancée in Mi Horan's mind, and she had earned points for her reaction.
Other women stood out in various ways, but the one scoring the highest points was Moyong Heea from the Moyong family.
The stories and her moves behind the scenes to support Yangcheon’s future impressed Mi Horan.
She knew that if Moyong Heea became an enemy, she could be dangerous, but she also saw a resemblance to herself in Heea’s actions.
And that she was from the Moyong family—an old acquaintance, or rather, competitor in the past, also a Moyong—was no small matter.
‘So many women...’
A small smile formed on Mi Horan's lips. She had once worried that Yangcheon was struggling, but it seemed he was getting by quite well, even blessed with good fortune in love.
‘In that regard… he’s very much like his father.’
But that was also a cause for concern. Too much love could bring its own hardships.
Yangcheon, unlike Gu Cheolwoon, seemed to carry a weight in relationships that was bound to be burdensome in the long run.
Unlike her husband, Yangcheon would likely care about such matters, given the formidable backgrounds of the women around him. Mi Horan could only try to maneuver things from the sidelines to ease his path.
"So," Mi Horan spoke again, prompting Gu Cheolwoon to look up.
"Does he seem more at ease now?"
That was the most crucial question. Had Yangcheon finally found some peace?
Mi Horan observed him closely, watching for any slight shifts in his expression. Though his eyes remained heavy, there was a subtle change that she noticed.
Gu Cheolwoon finally spoke, albeit cautiously.
"I’m not sure."
His voice was deep and resonant, yet there was an undercurrent of something softer.
"With such small steps, I’m not sure if anything has truly changed. I still don’t know."
"Did you ask him?"
Did he ask if Yangcheon felt any better, even slightly? Gu Cheolwoon shook his head.
"I didn’t ask."
"Why not?"
"I don’t know that either. But..."
Mi Horan listened intently, sensing a rare hesitation from him.
"He… called me ‘Father.’"
"…!"
Such a simple thing, yet it was not. There was weight in that title, a complexity behind the word “Father” that was lost on no one.
Mi Horan studied his face. His expression was as composed as ever, but she noticed the slight tremor in his gaze.
"How do you feel about it?"
"I don’t know. I am still a terribly inadequate man."
She did not disagree.
From her perspective, Gu Cheolwoon was an exceptional leader, but as a parent, he was lacking.
And she knew she was no better.
"It’s difficult."
At his quietly uttered words, Mi Horan nodded inwardly.
Then, looking at him, she said, "You’re late."
"…"
"You’re very late. Understanding how difficult it is should have come much sooner."
Not just a little bit sooner—much, much sooner. That was her regret.
Had they realized it just a bit earlier, things might have been better... but they hadn’t.
"Try to understand now, even if it's belated."
"I will try."
After a brief hesitation, he nodded. Those words were enough for now.
When Gu Cheolwoon said he would try, it wasn’t an empty promise but a genuine intention.
After hearing this, Mi Horan slowly rose.
Her one remaining hope was that…
He called me ‘Father.’ Just as Yangcheon had called him “Father”…
‘One day.’
One day, perhaps she, too…
Mi Horan closed her eyes, feeling a moment of presumptuous hope.
But she pushed aside any lingering regrets, offering a farewell to her husband before leaving the room.
Left alone, Gu Cheolwoon sipped his tea and closed his eyes.
The myriad thoughts were ultimately condensed into one heavy burden.
‘It’s difficult.’
Relationships were weighed down by countless unspoken regrets.
He wondered if this, too, was another karma he’d tried to ignore all this time.
You’re late. Just as Mi Horan had said, he was far too late. Now was not the time for remorse but action.
With a slow, careful breath, Gu Cheolwoon opened his eyes, gazing at the door Mi Horan had exited.
He quietly poured more tea.
One cup for himself and another for the empty seat across from him.
It was a strange thing to do, given that Mi Horan had already left the room.
After filling the cups, Gu Cheolwoon spoke.
"My apologies for the wait."
It seemed absurd to say this to an empty room.
But then, the door creaked open, and a man entered.
Dressed in black, he was a middle-aged man, and Gu Cheolwoon knew him well.
The man was none other than the head of the Seoan Bi family, a renowned figure in the region.
Seeing him, Gu Cheolwoon rose, preparing to greet him.
Not Bi-jeok, but the figure trailing behind him.
Noticing this, Bi-jeok awkwardly stepped aside, allowing the second person to enter.
Gu Cheolwoon’s gaze shifted to the newcomer.
He was a young martial artist, likely around the age of his own children, perhaps a little over twenty.
His attire indicated his affiliation with the Bi family.
By all rights, Gu Cheolwoon should have greeted Bi-jeok first, but he bowed to the younger man.
This newcomer held a higher status than Bi-jeok himself.
"It’s an honor to meet you, sir."
A flicker of an odd emotion crossed the young man’s eyes.
"Surprising. I haven’t even introduced myself."
"I am grateful you accepted my invitation."
"Well, I was hoping to have a little fun with you first."
With a chuckle, Paejon walked forward and casually took a seat across from Gu Cheolwoon.
"It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Lord Gu? It’s hard to say exactly how long. But allow me to introduce myself again."
Paejon lifted the teacup that had been poured earlier.
"I am Paejon Bi-ju. And—"
He locked eyes with Gu Cheolwoon, who had been watching him intently.
"I am also your son’s master."
With those words, a heavy atmosphere settled over the room.