Chapter 110

An elderly Taoist stepped out to greet Bukgung Yoon’s party.

He scanned Bukgung Yoon up and down with a displeased look and asked, “You say you come from the Bukgung Family?”

“Yes.”

“You are the lord of Flying Swallow Manor?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm…”

The Taoist’s gaze lingered on Bukgung Yoon’s face for a long moment. Then, as if resigned, he turned and led the way.

“I am Won Yang, in charge of the Finance Pavilion of the Southern Edge Sect.”

He did not look like an ordinary Taoist; he was a key figure managing Southern Edge’s finances. In any martial organization, whoever controlled the funds inevitably became a core figure.

When Bukgung Yoon bowed upon hearing his title, Won Yang shook his head. “One bow is enough. The chief elder told me to receive you. Come this way for now.”

As Bukgung Yoon followed Won Yang, she felt countless Southern Edge disciples’ eyes on her. The disciples kept their distance and glared at Bukgung Yoon and the External Protection Troops trailing behind Won Yang. Most of those looks were filled with resentment and anger.

“This is prickly.”

“We’re not being welcomed, are we?”

“Everyone, stay sharp. Think of yourselves as having entered the enemy camp.”

Something else stood out. The Southern Edge Sect was a prestigious orthodox white-sword sect with a long history, comparable to the Hwangbo Family or the Zhuge Family. If you named the most famous white-sword sects in the Central Plains, Southern Edge would be among them.

Yet the disciples’ appearance was humbler than expected. Those watching were chopping firewood, drying herbs, or sewing torn clothes. If not for their robes, the scene would have looked more like a village gathering than a White Sword sect. Some didn’t even carry swords.

Is this really the Southern Edge Sect?

Just as that doubt rose, another group caught her eye. Children who had been sitting and sharing something noticed the party from Flying Swallow Manor. One suddenly jumped up and waved at Bukgung Yoon with a bright face—the young Taoist she had given ginger candy to earlier.

Won Yang scolded him. “Un Jeong! I told you to train—what are you doing with the disciples?!”

“Gasp! I’m sorry, Elder! The disciples said they were hungry… so we were sharing a snack!”

“A snack? What are you eating?”

When Won Yang looked, it was ginger candy. Un Jeong hesitated, watching Won Yang’s reaction. “That pretty young lady gave them to Southern Edge’s Taoists as a gift… she did.”

“Southern Edge’s Taoist?”

Un Jeong straightened and announced, “It’s me!”

…

Bukgung Yoon, who had been listening nearby, spoke to Won Yang. “I shared the snack with the Taoists of my own accord, so please don’t scold them too harshly. It’s not poisoned or anything.”

Won Yang glanced between Un Jeong and Bukgung Yoon, his face flushing, then turned and walked on. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Of course I believe that.”

After a little further, a building with a sign—Perfect Fortune Hall—came into view.

“From here on, only the manor lord may enter.”

The External Protection Troops objected at once. “We guard the manor lord. We have a duty to protect her.”

“We cannot allow armed outsiders into Perfect Fortune Hall. It’s Southern Edge law.”

“If this were Southern Edge as it once was, they would have heeded the Finance Pavilion Lord’s words—but not now.”

“…What does that mean?”

“Southern Edge doesn’t welcome the Bukgung Family, does it?”

Sparks flew between the deputy commander of the External Protection Troops and Won Yang.

“Southern Edge will not harm the lord of Flying Swallow Manor. I swear it in the name of Southern Edge.”

“Follow the Finance Pavilion Lord’s orders. We did not come here to fight Southern Edge.”

When Bukgung Yoon also spoke, the commanders’ momentum calmed. Won Yang addressed the hesitant guards. “Only two people, and only unarmed, will be allowed into the hall. This is to spare the dignity of Flying Swallow Manor, who gave alms to Un Jeong.”

Sensing no room for further compromise, Yang Gwanwol distributed personnel. “Yu Se-gwang, Pyo Kang-hyeok, you two will guard the manor lord. The rest will wait outside.”

The two troopers assigned carried no lethal weapons.

Inside Perfect Fortune Hall, not only Southern Edge’s chief elder but many elderly Taoists sat formally on both sides. While the Taoists outside had been ragged and gaunt, the elders wore crisp robes and looked healthy. The only exceptions were two: the chief elder and Won Yang, the Finance Pavilion Lord who had escorted Bukgung Yoon.

“I have brought the guest from the Bukgung Family.”

“You have done well, Finance Pavilion Lord.”

With Won Yang seated to the chief elder’s right, Southern Edge’s leadership had gathered. Twenty pairs of eyes fixed on Bukgung Yoon.

Since long ago, Bukgung Yoon admitted she was not particularly bold. Even born into a good family with good parents and a favorable environment, she lacked the capacity to handle people. She couldn’t treat subordinates harshly like her brothers. Asking someone to do a small task often made her uneasy.

She had dozens of attendants, servants, and eunuchs, but she couldn’t comfortably rely on any of them. Elders were worse: Bukgung Yoon always superimposed her father’s image onto adults older than her—a strict, indifferent father who judged her every move—so she naturally felt nervous when standing before people, especially those older than her.

She was not as strong or bold as her brothers. She didn’t captivate attention like them, nor could she push forward brazenly. Some called her lacking the qualities of a ruler—qualities said to be necessary for the Family Lord seat of the Bukgung Family.

However, there was one situation where she could be as bold as her brothers.

—I’ll become your misfortune.

When her misfortune protected her, she alone could be audacious. The person who made her misfortune was not by her side now, but she was not afraid. Even without him, she remained the master of that misfortune. He did not serve a master who was defeated. With someone bolder, stronger, and more brazen than anyone in the world at her back, how could she be defeated?

Bukgung Yoon raised her head and met twenty pairs of gazes—the elders she feared: Southern Edge’s elders.

“I am Bukgung Yoon, lord of Flying Swallow Manor.”

She bowed slightly in a gesture of respect—polite, not servile.

“Where is Flying Swallow Manor? Did the Bukgung Family have such a manor?”

Bukgung Yoon looked at the elder who spoke. “I am the seventh daughter of the Bukgung Family Lord, and Flying Swallow Manor is my manor.”

“A daughter? The Bukgung Family Lord’s daughter?”

A sour sneer rippled among the elders at the word daughter. In the martial world’s powerful houses, a daughter’s fate was usually predetermined—sold like property to increase influence through marriage or sheltered and ignorant of the world.

Seeing their reaction, Bukgung Yoon felt oddly reassured. Those reactions were all too familiar. When introduced, people were first intimidated by the name Bukgung Family, then sneered at the word daughter.

“I am a legitimate candidate for the next Family Lord of the Bukgung Family.”

Even with her explanation, the mockery did not subside.

“So then—why has the lord of Flying Swallow Manor, a rightful candidate for the Bukgung Family Lord, come all the way to Southern Edge?” an unnamed elder sneered.

The External Protection Troops bristled, but Bukgung Yoon showed no sign of anger. Not letting feeling become attitude was one of the things she did best.

“Flying Swallow Manor has come to make a proposal to the Southern Edge Sect.”

“Lord of Flying Swallow Manor. You’ve come to the wrong place. Southern Edge is a Taoist hall and does not perform weddings. You should find a groom elsewhere.”

The elders burst into unpleasant laughter. Pyo Kang-hyeok, standing beside Bukgung Yoon, clenched his fist. Yu Se-gwang quietly watched her expression.

You said you wouldn’t harm the manor lord. Is this Southern Edge’s courtesy? Yu Se-gwang asked Won Yang silently.

Unlike the others, Won Yang did not smile. From the beginning he had kept an expressionless face; the chief elder beside him was the same. In this vast hall, only those two listened seriously to Bukgung Yoon’s words.

Thud!

When the chief elder slammed his palm on the floor, the hall resonated with deep martial energy.

“Guest from the Golden Manor, speak. Southern Edge is listening.”

Despite the elders’ crass jokes, Bukgung Yoon maintained her calm. “Flying Swallow Manor intends to partner with the Shaanxi force to pioneer a transport route from Gansu to the Western Bank.”

“From Gansu… to Shaanxi?”

There was only one transport route that connected Gansu to Shaanxi—the Western goods from the Hexi Corridor seized by Ten Thousand Gold Manor.

At Bukgung Yoon’s single remark, the elders’ brows furrowed. From their standpoint, the plan sounded outrageous.

“Lord of Flying Swallow Manor, state the facts properly.”

“I mean it literally. We have an agreement to take on some of the goods transported by Ten Thousand Gold Manor. We plan to open a land route on the Western Bank to bring those goods into the Central Plains.”

Bukgung Yoon did not hide the truth; she named Ten Thousand Gold Manor outright, even though she knew it was a sore spot. She could have concealed the name or invented a false reason, but falsehood could not outweigh the truth. Even Yeon Mujin would probably have made the same choice.

“How dare the Bukgung Family mock Southern Edge again!”

A fiery uproar erupted among the elders. The name Ten Thousand Gold Manor was a source of shame and resentment. Now she proposed accepting Ten Thousand Gold Manor’s goods and opening a route to the Western Bank? To them, it was no different than begging while wearing Southern Edge robes.

Amid complaints and accusations, Bukgung Yoon kept her gaze fixed on one place. Among the angry throng, only two—Southern Edge’s chief elder and the Finance Pavilion Lord—listened to her seriously. If even one person paid attention, the deal might be possible. With two, how much more so?