Chapter 18

Yeon Mujin was, as usual, confined to a solitary room in Flying Swallow Manor, immersed in qi cultivation.

Wang Ga-hwa’s poison had long since been neutralized, so he devoted all his remaining time to the Travelling Swallow Qi Cultivation.

What else was there to do in a solitary cell?

Food arrived on schedule, and there was no danger of being attacked. Because of that, Yeon Mujin could remain in cultivation whenever he was awake.

The guards posted outside would shake their heads whenever they checked on him.

“He truly never gets tired.”

“‘Sitting Zen Vagabond’ is a fitting nickname for him.”

Although his days consisted of eating, relieving himself, sitting, and cultivating qi, his body kept improving—entirely thanks to the Travelling Swallow Qi Cultivation.

To the guards, it was enough to make them suspect devilry.

“This should be enough.”

He had pushed his body to its limit.

From here on, further development would be difficult without a breakthrough in the Travelling Swallow Qi Cultivation.

“Ugh!”

Cre-aaak!

When he stretched and yawned, his body protested from head to toe.

It had been a blessing in disguise; Wang Ga-hwa’s poison had bought him time to repair himself.

“Prisoner Yeon Mujin, meal time.”

Just then the meal arrived: plain meatless dumplings and some pickled greens.

It was humbler than what the Bukgung servants ate, but Yeon Mujin ate without complaint.

At least they’re feeding me—by his standards, a feast.

He generally ate well and could sleep anywhere.

Yeon Mujin wolfed down the food, belched, and patted his now-plump belly.

Prison life suited him quite well.

“Let’s see.”

Having finished cultivation and filled his stomach, his thoughts finally wandered elsewhere.

‘Jeong Yeo-gwang is dead. Wang Ga-hwa… Bukgung Bi-beom will take care of eliminating her.’ With the pruning done, he’d weeded out the chaff and restored Flying Swallow Manor’s power structure.

The problem, he thought, was whether the manor lord could actually act like a lord under this new arrangement.

You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t force it to drink, he reflected. If he put his mind to it, Yeon Mujin might rebuild the manor himself; installing Bukgung Yoon as clan head might not be so difficult.

But that wasn’t enough. His promise to Bukgung Cheon wasn’t merely to install a new head—it was to ensure the Bukgung Family wouldn’t collapse. That required a capable leader, not a puppet. Making a puppet manor lord into a puppet family lord meant nothing.

It was, he realized, the art of employing people—no, of raising them.

The old man was mad—he’d saddled him with this tedious promise until the end.

But to raise someone you must first see potential. To Yeon Mujin, Bukgung Yoon’s brothers showed none; they were all trash.

That left Bukgung Yoon—the one crushed by her brothers and who had never shown a spark during six regressions. Given room to breathe, what would she become?

Would she be a sinking ship, or a vessel that had never unfurled its sails?

I hope she has potential…

Bukgung Yoon was Yeon Mujin’s last hope. There was nowhere left to run.

Unless Bukgung Cheon had some hidden child somewhere…

Just then, the solitary cell’s tightly shut door opened with a screech.

“Yeon Mujin—Guard, come out.”

The voice of the guard outside sounded different this time—not ‘prisoner’ but ‘guard.’

“It’s the manor lord’s summons.”

Bukgung Yoon met Yeon Mujin in the manor lord’s chamber.

“I’ve brought Guard Yeon.”

“Thank you for your efforts, Guard Yang.”

Yang Gwan-wol bowed and left at once, as if this were no place for him to linger.

Bukgung Yoon stole glances at Yeon Mujin.

“You’ve gone through much hardship.”

“Yes. Thanks to someone.”

“I trust you understand it was a situation that could not be helped.”

“Yes, yes—let’s leave it at that.”

His attitude was cocky as ever.

“Did you summon me to apologize?”

“No.”

Bukgung Yoon cleared her throat.

“As you suspected, the sixth brother was indeed behind Lady Wang. He said he’d personally remove her.”

“That figures. He wouldn’t want his weakness exposed.”

“There will be another reason besides that.”

“To set an example for his younger sibling?”

Bukgung Yoon’s eyes widened slightly.

“How did you know?”

“That’s obvious.”

He looked brash and indifferent on the surface, but from killing Jeong Yeo-gwang to predicting his brother’s reactions, he moved with calculation. He read their actions as if reading a palm—like an old retainer who’d schemed under a lord for decades.

Bukgung Yoon found herself newly impressed.

“You could have refused to hand Lady Wang’s safety over to your brother, but you handed it over. You did well.”

“Why do you think I did that?”

“Waving a blade with empty hands would only raise awareness and nothing more.”

Again, that was the correct answer.

Even confined the whole time, he seemed to see through Bukgung Yoon’s thoughts and the sixth brother’s actions as if he had known them for years.

Before she realized it, she asked, embarrassed.

“Did I act correctly?”

Yeon Mujin looked at her casually.

“I wouldn’t know.”

“…Yes?”

“Whether it’s right or not will be decided by the manor as it goes forward.”

That was the third correct answer.

He added, “But if you give up one thing, you must gain at least one thing. Wang Ga-hwa is a card that weakens the Sixth Young Master. What did you gain by giving that up, manor lord?”

What I gained… Bukgung Yoon pondered and answered.

“I planted a sense of caution in my brother. It was a warning: ‘I’ll let this pass this once. But don’t touch me again.’”

Yeon Mujin snorted.

“Did it work?”

“…No.”

“He’s not meek, is he?”

Bukgung Yoon nodded. Indeed, he wasn’t meek.

Yeon Mujin knew this well. Wrapped in pride and selfishness, he’d bare his teeth to leave even a scratch. Bi-beom wasn’t satisfied with a mere tap test—he’d hammer a bridge down before trusting it. Outwardly relaxed, inwardly anxious, he hated pieces that didn’t move to his will. Bukgung Yoon had been one of his pieces.

“Having drawn blood, he’ll prepare something in return. He won’t just let it pass. From the Sixth Young Master’s standpoint, a competitor—and one he considered beneath him—rebelling is unbearable, of course.”

“Yes.”

“There is something else you gained as the manor lord.”

“What is that?”

“The right to fight itself.”

Bukgung Yoon turned the words over in her mouth.

The right to fight, huh…

“Is there a ruler who fights his ministers? A father who fights his children? Subordinates aren’t opponents—they’re livestock to be managed with reward and punishment. You say you warned the Sixth Young Master? He would have laughed: ‘What are you saying? You’re just livestock.’ Cruel as it sounds, that’s how he thinks. But when he returns to bed laughing, he’ll ponder: ‘Is my sibling mad? Is this a rebellion? Should I crush her?’ Once he starts thinking and responding, it becomes a fight. You have, for the first time, earned the right to fight.”

The more she heard, the more sense his words made.

Bukgung Yoon steeled herself. If this was a fight, then she would fight.

Yeon Mujin asked, “Then we must prepare for battle, right?”

“That’s right.”

“How will you prepare?”

He looked at her. Shabby clothes, unkempt hair, a worn sword—he could pass for a poor ronin. Bukgung Yoon wore sumptuous purple silk embroidered with silver plum blossoms, clearly a lady of high birth. If one judged by appearance alone, they’d expect him cowed and her proud—but the reality was the opposite.

She felt as if her inner thoughts were laid bare by his gaze.

Staring at him, she said, “Guard Yeon, I’ll ask you just one thing.”

“Ask away.”

“Do you still intend to make me the family lord?”

“Of course.”

“If I ask why, you won’t give me an answer, will you?”

The reason was simple: a promise to Bukgung Cheon and Yeon Mujin’s only way to escape the wretched Bukgung Family.

“It’s a secret.”

Bukgung Yoon sighed.

“Skill is secret, purpose is secret, the reason you help me is secret. Guard Yeon, you are a man of many secrets.”

After a moment she added, “At least your claim that you want to make me the family lord is not a lie, right?”

“I’m sincere.”

“Then that’s good. Guard Yeon.”

“Yes.”

“From now on, I appoint you as the chief guard of our Flying Swallow Manor.”

“Yes?”

“Guard Yeon will not take orders from anyone within Flying Swallow Manor except me; you will have the authority to act independently and will report only to me.”

Yeon Mujin stared at Bukgung Yoon without answering.

“I think of Guard Yeon as a sword. A sword sharper than anyone’s. I don’t need to know Guard Yeon’s reasons or purpose for doing this. A sword need only be wielded.”

She produced an elegant blade stamped with the Bukgung Family emblem, as if she’d prepared it beforehand.

“Will you be the sword that can protect me?”

“Come here, Bi-beom!”

A new guest arrived at Jeokun Hall.

Bukgung Bi-beom frowned and stopped his work. The person he disliked most had come.

“So I heard you got bested by the youngest?”

Bukgung Mok-min dropped in without invitation, bringing the news Bi-beom hated.

He plopped down, grabbed snacks and fruit with bare hands, and tossed the peels onto the floor—an obvious provocation.

Bukgung Bi-beom knew this was deliberate. As much as he hated the youngest, the fifth brother hated him.

“You idiot. Now you’ve got nothing to prove and you even got bested by Yoon?”

“Shut up.”

“I don’t want to.”

“And go away.”

“Oh my, how terrifying.”

Despite his words, Bukgung Mok-min’s expression was pure delight.

“Brother! Look at Bi-beom being insolent to me!”

The third brother, Bukgung Dam-deok, who had been examining ceramics in Bi-beom’s room, chimed in with a halting voice.

“B-B-Bi-beom. Th-that color doesn’t suit this place. The Solitary Cloud Manor is in the west… O-oh, jade color is the symbol of good fortune.”

It was clear without looking: the fifth brother had brought the third purely to mock Bi-beom. From the third to the sixth young masters—excluding the eldest and second—they were born in close succession. The third brother spoke haltingly and was often ignored.

“Both of you, get out. Don’t loiter in my manor.”

Bukgung Mok-min paid him no mind and chuckled.

“Even so, you sent a spy to our younger sibling’s manor? How can you do such a thing within the family?”

“Bullshit. You’ve done worse to me.”

“And you even got caught and humiliated? Oh, splendid. Father would be so pleased to hear this.”

“Did you tell the family lord about this?”

“Bi-beom, what do you think of this brother?”

Bukgung Mok-min wagged a finger.

“Of course I told him right away.”

“…Fuck!”

The anger inside Bukgung Bi-beom, which had settled, flared again.

Seeing that, Bukgung Mok-min laughed until he nearly doubled over.

“So you certainly took care of the spy who was caught, right?”

“I’ll handle it as I see fit.”

“And that fellow? The warrior who cut down your spy.”

“Don’t care.”

“You idiot. If you wanted someone dead, you should’ve killed the spy, not the warrior. Frankly, isn’t this whole thing because of that man?”

It was a trap. The one who killed Jeong Yeo-gwang had been a Bukgung Guard. Touching a Bukgung Guard appointed by the family lord’s orders would blow things up. The brother simply wanted him to stumble. Bukgung Bi-beom did not fall for it.

“Anyway, who leaked the information—you should’ve watched your men better, idiot.”

“Shut… what?”

Bukgung Bi-beom, about to ignore his brother, pricked up his ears.

Bukgung Mok-min spat grape skin onto the floor and spoke slowly.

“The man who killed your spy—he’s the recent Bukgung Guard Tournament winner, right? Doesn’t that seem odd?”

“What’s odd about that?”

“He noticed a spy that even Yoon herself didn’t know about the moment he entered Flying Swallow Manor? That doesn’t make sense.”

Bukgung Bi-beom felt as if he’d been struck in the head. Until now he had assumed bad luck and targeting by the youngest, but his brother’s words rang true.

“That man won the Bukgung Guard Tournament and chose to enter Flying Swallow Manor by his own hand. Then this incident occurred. How did he know? Could he have known from the start before he even entered? Perhaps…”

Bukgung Mok-min lowered his voice.

It was always satisfying to see a younger sibling get their comeuppance, but it mustn’t go so far as treason against the Bukgung household.

“Didn’t that bastard go in knowing something was up? Doesn’t he have ulterior motives? Surely someone provided him with that information.”

His words were sweet and poisonous like a snake.

Two thoughts collided in Bukgung Bi-beom’s mind. One told him to ignore his brother’s bullshit; the other said there was merit in what he said. In the end, the latter won out.

“…Chief Un!”