Chapter 82

The carriage carrying Yeon Mujin and Bukgung Yoon had left Shandong and was returning to Taiyuan. They had done everything they could there, and the two chose to head back rather than wait for the family’s answer.

On the jolting carriage, Yeon Mujin suddenly spoke up. “Are you serious about that?”

“About what?”

“That you intend to become the last Bukgung Family Lord.”

The revelation surprised not only the others but Yeon Mujin himself—he was hearing it for the first time.

After a moment’s silence, Bukgung Yoon answered. “Half of it is sincere, and half is bluster.”

“Which part is sincere and which is bluster?”

“It’s something the other brothers cannot do and only I can. I considered that a form of renunciation.”

“Renunciation?”

It was an enigmatic remark. Bukgung Yoon added at once, “To relinquish a measure of the Bukgung Family’s vast power. Isn’t that the greatest card I can play?”

There was reason in her words. From what Yeon Mujin had seen, none of the other brothers would surrender even a sliver of their vested interests.

“Then, Manor Lord, can you give it up? The Bukgung Family’s power?”

“Yes.” Bukgung Yoon, who had been gazing at the carriage window, spoke again. “I think this household has become excessively bloated. It wields power it cannot responsibly bear while chasing the false glory of being the best under heaven. Is there truly no place in the Central Plains where the Bukgung Family’s influence does not reach? That everyone prostrates themselves before the Bukgung Family? How can that be reasonable? People bow outwardly but inwardly they wait only for the crumbs to fall. The Bukgung Family is neither a martial faction nor a ruling authority. I grew up watching how immense power inevitably brings sacrifice.”

“What did you grow up seeing?” Yeon Mujin asked, probing.

Bukgung Yoon’s eyes sharpened. “Why do you ask?”

“I can ask. No need to glare like an axe-eye.”

She looked out at the passing scenery and fell silent for a long while. Just as he was about to coax her and ask again, she finally spoke.

“All my siblings have different mothers.”

“I see.”

He knew that. Bukgung Family Lord Bukgung Cheon had many wives. The curious thing was that all seven children were not from the principal wife but from concubines; the principal wife had no children and died before bearing any. The cause was never clarified, though many suspected the first concubine had poisoned her. She was the mother of the Grand Heir Bukgung Kang-geon, the matriarchal figure of the Bukgung Family.

“My mother passed away not long after giving birth to me. Women who married into the Bukgung Family tend to have short lives. Most never bear a second child and go straight to the grave.”

There were power struggles not only among principal wives but also among the concubines. Among the seven children alive now, only two or three still had living birth mothers. The deaths were mysterious, causes unknown. So many had died that it was impossible to determine who had killed whom. No— from the Family Lord’s standpoint, there was no need to expose it. This was one of the Bukgung Family’s darker facets.

“My mother was the daughter of a famous literatus. She was very warm and gentle—unsuited to the Bukgung Family, in a way. She was far removed from power and slander. She established a manor in a remote place, spending her days writing and painting. Our Flying Swallow Manor is an inheritance she left behind.”

He had never heard that before. The tales of the Bukgung Family’s concubines did not much interest Yeon Mujin; among the sons, some did not remember their mothers. That was the expected role of women in this household: beings who bore children and vanished without leaving a name.

“They say my mother was greatly relieved when she learned I was a daughter. Because I was female, she thought I wouldn’t have to be dragged into this wretched fight for rank. After giving birth to me she even begged the Family Lord to let her return to her hometown and live quietly. The Family Lord did not permit it, however.”

Yeon Mujin listened calmly to Bukgung Yoon’s story.

“When my mother gave birth to me she was young, healthy, and beautiful. But by the time I took my first steps her hair had gone white; when I first spoke her face was wrinkled like a seventy-year-old; she died in the year I turned seven.” Bukgung Yoon stared at the carriage window, as if determined that he should not see her face.

“Later I heard from Master Am Chu-dan. He entered the Bukgung Family’s Am Chu-dan with my grandfather’s help. He told me that when he examined my mother’s corpse, her belly was stained black. Her organs had hardened like stone, so drinking must have been painful. The last image I have of my mother is of someone so emaciated she couldn’t even eat porridge, yet her stomach alone was bulging.”

“…”

“He said to me, ‘I’m sorry.’ I don’t know what he felt sorry for, but he simply apologized. That’s when I understood: my mother hadn’t simply died of natural causes. I didn’t know who or what had done that to her, but clearly someone had. That day, for the first time, I went to my father alone and begged him in tears to reveal my mother’s murderer.”

The answer was obvious even without hearing it. Bukgung Cheon would not have permitted it—even for the plea of a seven-year-old daughter.

“From that day on I was an orphan. My maternal grandfather seemed unwilling to see the granddaughter who had caused his daughter to die. He cut off all contact forever. When people speak of the Bukgung Family—envied by all under heaven, the cherished youngest daughter who could do no wrong—what do you think went through my head when I heard such words?” Bukgung Yoon asked.

Yeon Mujin said nothing; he knew clumsy comfort would only wound her further.

“From then on I hated this family. I wanted to erase everything that bore the Bukgung name—every single thing. What is this supposed ‘supreme family under heaven’ or ‘master of all people’? What kind of powerless Family Lord cannot even protect a single child or wife? What kind of mad father pits his children’s lives against each other to choose a Family Lord? If this isn’t a hell of beasts eating each other, then what is it?”

She spoke resolutely. “The Bukgung Family’s power must be reduced from what it is now. If many covet that power, we should sell it off. That is the greatest card I can put on the table.”

Yeon Mujin watched her in silence. He understood—he had been entangled with this household for a very long time. People saw the Bukgung Family’s exalted glory across the land, but the shadow cast by that authority was dense. She had grown up in that shadow.

Bukgung Yoon added, “The reason I want to become the Family Lord is precisely that. Of course I will reward the people of Flying Swallow Manor who follow me. Whether it’s gold or something else.” She spoke as if to reassure him; for the first time, a trace of anxiety showed in her voice. “So please, make me the Family Lord.”

“…”

“Answer me.”

“Of course.”

“Well, I’ll be.” After the lord of Flying Swallow Manor departed, the remaining Zhuge and Hwangbo families pondered the matter for a long time.

The lord of Flying Swallow Manor had left one gift behind. That was the problem. There was only one gift: Green Field and Sunny Breeze—the sacred items of the Taishan Divine Sword. The Green Field Sword and the Sunny Breeze Fan, which the two families had desperately sought, were not two separate pieces but one.

“So this was the truth of Green Field and Sunny Breeze.”

Before them lay a neatly kept painted folding fan. On the fan’s handle was inscribed in small letters ‘Sunny Breeze Fan,’ and when it opened, alongside a splendid view of Mount Tai there was an inscription.

—To my dear friend, in honor of Hwangbo Yong. Zhuge Woo-cheon.

On the reverse, written in another hand, was:

—To my dear friend, Zhuge Woo-cheon. Hwangbo Yong.

Given the differing hands, it appeared the inscriptions were written by different people. And when they closed the fan—Sht!—a blade sprang from the fan’s tip, turning it into a dagger. On the blade was the inscription: Green Field Sword.

The Green Field Sword and the Sunny Breeze Fan were not two separate weapons but a single item left as a token of friendship between the Hwangbo family’s elder and the Zhuge family’s elder. In other words, the name ‘Taishan Divine Sword’ quite possibly referred to not one person but two.

When presenting the gift, the lord of Flying Swallow Manor had said: “You need not follow Flying Swallow Manor immediately. But do not yield out of fear to the threats of the Lord of Drunken Flower Manor. Leaning on the Bukgung name will only see you used. Flying Swallow Manor promises you freedom.”

“Do you believe it? That she’ll become Bukgung Family Lord and end the family’s tyranny? How preposterous is that?”

“It seems the mad one isn’t the lord’s subordinate but the lord herself, doesn’t it?”

Those who had already experienced Yeon Mujin only then realized that a lord who keeps a lunatic as a subordinate cannot be sane himself.

“What do you think?” Hwangbo Ack asked Zhuge Gun, his tone considerably softened from before. “The lord of Flying Swallow Manor has shown goodwill toward us. If she cannot sway the Southern Four Alliance, she will not be able to meet the Drunken Flower Manor Lord’s demands anyway. We can’t immediately make open war with Drunken Flower Manor, but we can buy time. At the very least, we would owe a debt to Flying Swallow Manor, wouldn’t we?”

The matter of Solitary Cloud Manor and the gift Green Field and Sunny Breeze amounted to two debts.

“And you’re in threefold—you even owe Kwan’s life.” Zhuge Gwan and Zhuge Jo-yeon looked toward their Family Lord, Zhuge Gun, secretly hoping their father would relent.

Snap! Zhuge Gun closed the fan he had been holding—the habitual gesture he made when he reached a decision.

“Do you believe her claim to become the last Family Lord? Even if she were to become the Bukgung Family Lord, by then both of us would already be old men in the back room.”

“Has this man only ever been deceived? How can you be so heartless? Are you going to pocket what you receive and wash your hands of it?”

“One must distinguish public duty from private affairs. The lord of Flying Swallow Manor said the same: there’s no need to follow Flying Swallow Manor immediately.”

“Didn’t she also ask that we not follow the Drunken Flower?” Hwangbo Ack protested, growing heated; he felt like trampling whatever remained of the lord’s pride to force compliance.

Tap! Zhuge Gun prodded Hwangbo Ack with the fan. “I’ll ask you only one thing.”

“What?”

“Which is harder: seizing any Bukgung branch master and persuading them to give up the Bukgung-held power, or making someone who already has that intention into the Family Lord?”

It was an unexpected choice.

“Uh… the former would be more difficult, wouldn’t it?”

“Exactly. That’s it.” Zhuge Gun sipped his now-cold tea.

Hwangbo Ack tilted his head in puzzlement. “What do you mean by that?”

“There is only one reason to accept Flying Swallow Manor’s request.”

Startled looks from the gathered people turned to Zhuge Gun.

“Prepare the letter to send to the Drunken Flower Manor Lord. State that our Shandong forces will not bow to Drunken Flower Manor’s intimidation.”

“Father…!”

“Family Lord…!”

“You…!”

“And one more thing.” Zhuge Gun picked up Green Field and Sunny Breeze and spoke, as if it were the most natural thing. “We will take Green Field and Sunny Breeze.”

“Why you?”

“Why, indeed?” He shrugged. “Well, it’s a fan, isn’t it?”