Chapter 31

Bukgung Kang-geon, Grand Prince of the Bukgung Family.

Despite the name Kang-geon, he was slight in stature.

His frail frame and snow-white skin made him look sickly.

Yet with a single word from that pale eldest brother, the atmosphere in the Lord’s Hall chilled to ice.

“Stop fighting among yourselves before the family lord arrives. Yeong-no, you too—stop tormenting Yoon.”

“When did I ever torment her… tch.”

“More importantly, Yun. I’ve heard the Flying Swallow Manor has been busy lately. Why don’t you tell your brother what’s been happening there?”

Bukgung Kang-geon asked in a kindly tone.

To an outsider he would seem the doting elder brother curious about his sister’s affairs—exactly that image.

But Bukgung Yoon was not fooled.

Compared to her other brothers, whose thoughts were written plainly on their faces, the eldest brother who revealed nothing was the most dangerous of all.

He would smile while digging up someone’s weakness, then crush them and take whatever he wanted.

The other brothers had each had things taken from them by the Grand Prince in that way. So they all both disliked and feared him.

Why not just fight back?

That was impossible. Bukgung Kang-geon enjoyed the support of both the Shaolin and Wudang sects; he was undeniably the most likely next head of the Bukgung family.

“I-I-I heard it too. Pe-ople were k-killed, and many of the household retainers were m-massacred?”

The third brother, Bukgung Dam-deok, stammered.

“Dam-deok. I was speaking, so shut up.”

The eldest said coldly to the third.

Although Dam-deok was the most timid, he sometimes surprised them by interrupting the eldest and provoking him.

The others dismissed him as a stammerer, but unlike them he was not afraid of the eldest.

…Perhaps it was because he had faced things more terrifying than the eldest brother.

He had earned the nickname ‘Ghost Prince’—a different shade from Bukgung Yoon, who had been called the ‘Ghost of the Flying Swallow Manor.’

“Tch, hyung is always like this only to me…”

“See, eldest is always cold only to Dam-deok. Are you all discriminating because our third is a stupid stammerer?”

The second brother said.

The alliance of the second and third against the eldest—a familiar scene.

“You’re too mean…”

“Dam-deok, stop playing the fool. You used to be the smartest among us—since when did you take to that idiot act?”

“Th-this isn’t an ac-act.”

“Yes, yes. I suppose so. Lulling us into complacency so you can stab us in the back someday.”

“I have no such intention. That-that’s something Yun-ram would do.”

“Me? Why would I do something that doesn’t even earn money?”

Bukgung Yoon watched them slowly from among her chattering brothers—who allied with whom, who opposed whom; relationships gnawing at one another with hidden blades.

She was utterly fed up.

“The family lord is coming to eat!”

Before long Bukgung Cheon entered the Lord’s Hall.

Sitting at the head of the table, Bukgung Cheon looked over his children and spoke.

“Are you all gathered?”

At his call the food was brought in.

Meats, fish, honey and rice cakes, wine and noodle dishes, even far-western delicacies rarely seen in the Central Plains.

Every delicacy was placed on the table. Though Bukgung Cheon’s children were accustomed to fine food, the dishes that day were on another level.

“Eat.”

Once the dishes were set and Bukgung Cheon lifted his utensil, his children began sampling the food, but their eyes kept darting to their father.

They were watching the family lord’s expression.

“Family Lord.”

The first to speak was the fourth, Bukgung Yun-ram.

“The transport rights on the Mount Tian Northern Route have been secured. From now on we can collect an additional five percent in tax from the merchant caravans bringing western goods along the Mount Tian Northern Route.”

“Hmph. Not 15 percent, not 10, but 5 percent? What will you do with so little extra income? The family lord will mock you.”

Bukgung Yeong-no, who disliked the fourth, scoffed.

Bukgung Yun-ram grinned at his second brother as if he had expected that reaction, then reported to their father.

“Due to this, the Bukgung Family’s additional annual revenue will amount to about fifty thousand coins in gold.”

Fifty thousand coins!

The brothers froze in unison. Only Bukgung Yoon remained composed.

That’s a bit less than I expected.

She had expected seventy thousand coins.

Bukgung Yun-ram, puffed up, continued.

“As my Yeong-no hyung says, it’s a paltry sum, but this too will be used for the future development of the Bukgung Family.”

He bowed outwardly humble—a show to flatter their father.

She watched the other brothers’ eyes flick to their father, each thinking the same thing: what would the lord of the Bukgung family say?

“Good, well done.”

With no change in his expression, Bukgung Cheon nodded toward Bukgung Yun-ram and brought food to his mouth. That was all the reaction to his son’s report. His gaze lingered only a moment.

Bukgung Yun-ram bit his lower lip slightly, and the watching brothers were pleased.

As expected, money can’t buy Father’s praise.

Next to step forward with confidence was the fifth brother, Bukgung Mok-min.

“Family lord, treasures and women from the Japanese lands have come through Shanghai. Their skin is yellowish, their hair straight and glossy—an allure different from Central Plains women. I will dedicate half of them, ten in total, to the Entertainment Hall.”

Bukgung Yoon heard the other brothers muttering in disbelief.

“You madman, are you seriously offering women to Father right now?”

“Ah, of course there are jewels and medicinal herbs too. But aren’t Japanese women far rarer and more precious than those trivial things?”

Bukgung Mok-min laughed lazily.

Every time Bukgung Yoon saw that expression on her fifth brother’s face, a curse rose in her gut.

But Bukgung Cheon again gave only a brief remark to Bukgung Mok-min.

“Well done.”

It was impossible to tell whether that meant approval.

While Bukgung Mok-min tilted his head at the ambiguous response, the other brothers continued their reports.

Some boasted of money earned, some of treasures acquired, others of rare elixirs.

But the centerpiece came from the second son, Bukgung Yeong-no.

“I have obtained the martial arts manual of the White Flower Sword.”

“…!”

Even Bukgung Yoon was surprised.

Among the eccentric figures of the previous generation were the so-called Black-and-White Sword Immortals.

They kept no base, traveled together, and wandered the murim world performing all manner of strange deeds.

Above all, they were famed for their martial arts.

Their origins and sects were unknown, and they were said to be unmatched in skill. Many sought their lives, yet there was never a rumor of their defeat.

Some even said the pair still lived in some remote mountain valley, idly enjoying immortal leisure.

The White Flower Sword Yeong-no spoke of was precisely the lone-blade technique of the White Sword from that duo.

White Sword’s skills were of uncertain fate; even a single page of his manual could be worth hundreds of thousands of coins in gold.

“Liar!”

Bukgung Yun-ram cried out.

“I’ve never heard any tale of any surviving manuals from the duo. If such a thing existed I would know. You’re lying.”

The atmosphere shifted. Bukgung Yeong-no met his brother’s accusation with a steady look.

“Do you think I would lie about matters of martial arts?”

…

Meeting his elder brother’s gaze, Bukgung Yun-ram was the first to look away.

“Tch, it’s surely fake as usual.”

Bukgung Yeong-no ignored the grumbling and reported to the family lord.

“At my martial arts archives, the manual is currently under analysis. It will take time, but they say it is certainly authentic.”

He curled one lip and added, “If it’s a forgery, I’ll beat to death every desk-bound scholar in the martial archives.”

Bukgung Yoon knew he wasn’t bluffing. Who would dare lie to the second son of the Bukgung Family? He would not spare them.

But if the archivists were wrong—if they had simply analyzed it incorrectly—the second son would still not spare such incompetent fools.

“This brings the Bukgung Family one step closer to the position of supreme authority under heaven, family lord.”

Bukgung Yeong-no smiled with confidence, certain his father would praise him. Compared to his brothers’ achievements, the White Flower Sword manual was in a class of its own.

But before their father could speak, someone interrupted.

“The Bukgung Family is already in the position of supreme authority.”

It was eldest brother Bukgung Kang-geon.

“Whether the White Flower Sword manual exists or not does not change that fact.”

A vein bulged on Bukgung Yeong-no’s forehead.

“You don’t know how great this is…”

“Yeong-no.”

At that moment Bukgung Cheon spoke.

“Yes.”

“Well done.”

That was all Bukgung Cheon said. Nothing more.

Seeing their father’s reaction, the brothers burst into laughter at the second son. Bukgung Yeong-no swallowed his anger.

Bukgung Yoon saw him glower at the eldest and at their father.

“Do you two have nothing to say?”

This time Bukgung Cheon addressed eldest son Bukgung Kang-geon and Third Prince Bukgung Dam-deok, who had not yet spoken.

“Unfortunately, I have no news to report.”

“Th-that, I also…”

Bukgung Yoon did not take those words at face value.

There was no way they had nothing to report. Even if the third truly had nothing, the eldest was greedier for the clan head’s position than anyone.

He simply did not want to disclose his achievements in public with rivals present—a sly man.

“W-well, according to the divination, this year it’s better to not a-actively engage in affairs and to s-stay still…”

In that regard the third brother was better than the eldest—at least he was honest.

“I see.”

Bukgung Cheon again showed no particular reaction. He neither scolded nor praised them. Whether a son had earned tens of thousands of coins or nothing, he treated them the same.

“Sigh.”

Bukgung Yoon let out a barely audible sound.

The taut air of the Lord’s Hall, the stifling conversation—she wanted out.

Clack.

After taking a bite, Bukgung Yoon suddenly realized how quiet everything had become.

She looked up to find every family member’s gaze fixed on her. She flushed.

Bukgung Cheon, at the end of the long table, looked down at her and asked.

“Yoon, don’t you have something to tell me?”