Chapter 17

The Bukgung Family’s Solitary Cloud Manor.

It was the manor of the Bukgung Family’s sixth child, Bukgung Bi-beom.

Each manor reflects its owner’s tastes.

As the name suggested, Solitary Cloud Manor was steeped in silence.

Because its master, Bukgung Bi-beom, loathed noise.

But paradoxically, today the noisiest place in the manor was the main hall where he sat.

“What are you doing here?”

Bukgung Bi-beom looked at the younger sibling seated across from him.

A sibling—his only sibling.

The only blood relative he could treat without restraint.

Bukgung Yoon had come early and sat without uttering a word.

“Yun, if you’ve come to see someone, at least state your purpose. Why are you sitting there while the tea goes cold?”

…

“Tch. How frustrating.”

Bukgung Bi-beom shifted his gaze to the guards standing beside his sister.

One looked like someone seasoned in the murim world; the other stood tense, a spear slung across his back.

“What’s your business?”

“Well…”

“That is…”

Of course, they had no way of knowing.

Yang Gwan-wol and Seo Nak-il, who had followed her at Bukgung Yoon’s request, strained to avoid Bukgung Bi-beom’s gaze.

Although part of the same family, they rarely had the chance to face the Bukgung Family’s authority directly.

‘Oh damn, look at that look in his eyes.’

‘My lady, please, whatever your business is, finish quickly and let’s go…!’

But Bukgung Yoon sat like a stone statue, oblivious to their thoughts.

‘Say something…!’

At that moment Yang Gwan-wol saw something.

He saw Bukgung Yoon’s fist trembling minutely at her side.

…

She was doing her utmost to steady her heart before her brother.

She had long lived in the family like a ghost—silent as a mouse.

Her brothers did not want more rivals for the position of family lord, and she was the household’s youngest honored daughter.

So living like a corpse had been her survival strategy.

Now she knew she had been wrong, but for the first time in her life, voicing her opinion before her brother terrified her.

“Yoon, if you have nothing to say, I’m leaving. I won’t see you off. Don’t waste my time bothering a busy man so early.”

Just as Bukgung Bi-beom was about to stand, Bukgung Yoon took a deep breath and finally spoke.

“It seems, Brother Bi-beom, you pay a great deal of attention to your only sister. You’ve attached eyes and ears even to the one who lives quietly.”

His head creaked as he slowly turned.

“Yoon, what did you say?”

“I’ve never once harassed you or interfered in your affairs—what could you possibly be so afraid of? Why keep a watch on your young sister?”

“…Are you out of your mind?”

A murderous, venomous aura radiated from him.

Watching, Yang Gwan-wol and Seo Nak-il felt their breath catch.

Though not martial artists themselves, they felt instinctive authority in the Bukgung name, even at his young age.

“The one who’s mad isn’t me—it’s you, brother. Unable to bear unease, you’ve become a petty man who obstructs his younger sister.”

Bukgung Bi-beom remained standing and looked down at Bukgung Yoon.

She did not yield and looked up at her brother; the trembling she had felt moments ago was gone—she did her best to conceal her fear.

He met her gaze and, suddenly, curled his lips into a faint smile.

“Checking? Obstructing? I don’t know what you’re talking about. Come to think of it, I heard of an incident at the Flying Swallow Manor recently—rumor says a newcomer named Bukgung Guard caused trouble and committed murder. Have you come because of that?”

“That person is precisely the informant you planted, brother.”

“That’s nonsense…”

Clack.

Bukgung Yoon set something on the table.

It was the evidence Yeon Mujin had handed her.

Evidence against the remaining informant, Wang Ga-hwa.

Bukgung Bi-beom’s eyes twitched when he recognized the nature of the items.

“What is this?”

“You ask what this is?”

She let out a small scoff and spoke.

“This is your jitteriness, brother.”

She flipped through the documents and said, “These are proof that our manor’s housemistress colluded with an outsider. Information about Flying Swallow Manor’s funds, personnel, and forces was leaking out. Moreover, my daily schedule was meticulously recorded. Who on earth would request and need this?”

He smiled with his mouth but glared with his eyes.

His sister—his only sister.

The sole blood relative he could handle freely.

And it was that very sister who had risen against him.

“Chief Un.”

“Yes, young master.”

He didn’t answer her; instead, he summoned the manor’s chief.

And, clearly within Bukgung Yoon’s hearing, he said, “What is the name of the one who serves as housemistress at the Flying Swallow Manor?”

“I believe it’s a woman named Wang Ga-hwa.”

“It seems my sister has suffered various hardships because of that woman.”

“Yes.”

“Kill her.”

“Yes.”

He met Bukgung Yoon’s gaze ostentatiously.

“A mole, a leak—this won’t do. Drag her out, rip all her teeth, torture her until she begs for mercy, and then kill her gruesomely.”

“I will carry out your orders.”

Even though it was an order to kill a retainer from another manor, the chief nodded without the slightest hesitation.

Bukgung Yoon was momentarily at a loss for words at his bold, authoritative demeanor.

“Is that settled, Yoon?”

…

“There must be no insolent suspicion between blood siblings. If my sister harbors wrongful thoughts and suspects this brother, I would be greatly saddened. So I will resolve it.”

She did not want such an outcome.

She had come only to warn Bukgung Bi-beom to stop meddling with her and Flying Swallow Manor.

“So, little sister.”

He leaned close to her ear and whispered softly.

“Don’t act recklessly in front of your elder brother. I can crush my youngest sibling’s struggles anytime. I hope I don’t come to hate you.”

Pat pat.

He tapped his sister’s shoulder.

“You may have been sharpening your blade in your own way, but it’s too dull. Don’t come looking for me again.”

Bukgung Yoon rose resolutely and left with her guards.

And shortly after.

“Chief.”

“Yes, young master.”

“What was that woman’s name?”

“Wang Ga-hwa.”

“Does she have family?”

“She has kin inside the city. If you track where the vouchers paid to Mrs. Wang moved, you can find them.”

“Find them too and kill them all. If there are any children left, leave none; wipe them all out.”

“…I will.”

The old chief looked at the Sixth Young Master and nodded.

Bukgung Bi-beom, still not appeased, struck the armrest.

Thud!

He struck once, stewed in his anger, then struck several more times.

Thud! Thud!

“How dare someone like you bare your teeth before me?”

Bukgung Yoon still felt her hand trembling faintly.

She feared her brothers—from the eldest to the sixth; to her, they all seemed twisted and broken.

The brothers had grown up without want from an early age.

Clothes, food, people—anything. If it could be bought, they obtained it without difficulty.

When they walked the streets, everyone bowed and tried to ingratiate themselves. It felt good—no, it must have felt good.

And at some point she realized.

Those bowed heads were not truly directed at them, but at the Bukgung name and their father, Lord Bukgung Cheon.

Without the Bukgung name, they were nothing. No one remembered their personal names: First Young Master, Second Young Master, Third Young Master, Fourth Young Master… and even the youngest daughter.

At some point the brothers felt it too.

Ah—only one person could keep this place overflowing with wealth, splendor, power, glory, and respect.

When they looked around, their brothers stared right back. The six read the hidden hostility in one another’s eyes.

You must die for me to live.

Only one person could occupy the highest position in the Bukgung Family: the family lord.

It likely began then, when the brothers began to cut ties and stray from one another, smiling as they bared their teeth.

Bukgung Yoon found that terrifying.

She clasped her trembling left hand with her right, trying to hide the tremor. She did not want to show a shameful weakness.

To defy her brother would mean entering the sibling fight where they tore each other apart.

Yoon disliked it. She was afraid and did not want it.

She lived as a ghost for that reason.

But…

“My lady. Are you all right?”

“Yes?”

“You’ve been trembling a lot since earlier…”

“I’m fine.”

The meeting’s aftereffects had not yet faded.

Bukgung Yoon cleared her throat, straightened her attire, exhaled, and steadied herself.

Seo Nak-il asked, “Isn’t the Sixth Young Master’s order to execute Lady Wang excessive?”

“It is excessive.”

“We might not be able to hand Lady Wang over. If you command it, Miss… surely the Sixth Young Lord wouldn’t resort to assassination, would he?”

“If he decided to, he could. He’s issuing a warning to me.”

Her words, dripping with chill, fell silent over the two guards.

“Let Lady Wang go. With Flying Swallow Manor’s foundation shaking, it’s useless to insist before my brother.”

It was a cold, rational statement.

It was hard to believe such words came from a girl her age.

“Understood.”

However.

She spoke again.

“There will be no more of this in the future.”

Her tightly clenched fists trembled quietly once more.

“I will no longer give myself up and be robbed of what is mine. They may trample me to death, but I will not just die.”

She thought of the time she had been helplessly abandoned by the two informants.

And she thought of Bukgung Bi-beom’s one remark.

‘Your sword is too dull.’

…Right.

A sword, then.

“Guard Yang, Guard Seo.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Sometimes you draw a sword not to win, but to protect yourself, wouldn’t you say?”

They didn’t fully understand what she meant, but both guards nodded for now.

Because what she said was true.

“In this murim world, you must have strength to avoid being scorned.”

“If you have no strength, you must at least pretend to have it.”

“I see.”

Bukgung Yoon nodded.

And she recalled one person.

The man who had slain Jeong Yeo-gwang with a single stroke.

The man who had sworn he would make her the family lord.

The man who had told her to trust no one for that purpose.

Though the idea of the youngest daughter becoming family lord still seemed absurd.

Sometimes you must wear a sword not to win, but to stand and fight.

A blade sharper than anyone else’s.

“Upon our return, summon Yeon Mujin’s guards at once. I must meet him.”