Chapter 8

Baek Mu-ryang’s office inside the manor.

Baek Mu-ryang pressed the matter once more.

“I heard you coaxed So and Yeon, used your wiles to take Gu Ak along as your guard, and slipped out. But what in heaven’s name is all this? Tell me what happened after you left.”

Yang-hwi gave a crisp, concise answer.

“Brother Gu and I raided the Cheongsa Gang’s Secret Hideout.”

Those few words were more than enough to stun Baek Mu-ryang.

“What on earth possessed you to do something so dangerous!”

“It wasn’t dangerous at all.”

Yang-hwi gave Baek Mu-ryang the very same account he had given Gu Ak, dressing it up in far gentler words and scrubbing away any hint of peril.

“How in the world… Hwi, you truly are remarkable for a child.”

Baek Mu-ryang wore an indescribable expression.

“No, even if that were so…”

‘Tsk. Did I overplay my hand? Father seems to find it odd.’

It would sting if his father began to harbor doubts or look upon him with suspicion.

Yang-hwi promptly offered an excuse.

“The parents who brought me into this world may have abandoned me, but they seem to have left me with a remarkable gift.”

“Ahem, hem. I… I see…”

Caught completely off guard by such words, Baek Mu-ryang faltered.

Thanks to that, any lingering misgivings vanished from his mind without a trace.

“Then is this wealth yours?”

“It is. Though more accurately, it belongs to the Baek Clan.”

Yang-hwi slid the pile of gold toward Baek Mu-ryang.

“What do you mean by that?”

“You and the Baek Clan took in a helpless orphan. I went out seeking to repay that debt, and since this wealth was won in that effort, it is only right that it be used for the family.”

Baek Mu-ryang’s expression hardened with resolve.

“The Baek Clan contributed nothing toward obtaining this wealth. It is strictly yours.”

“Since it is mine, then heed my wish and use it for the Baek Clan.”

“Hah…”

In truth, Baek Mu-ryang had fully intended to reprimand Yang-hwi for tangling with the Black Path Band.

Yet hearing that the boy had acted not out of greed, but out of devotion to the family and a desire to repay their kindness, he could no longer bring himself to scold him.

“Even so, I cannot take all of it.”

Baek Mu-ryang divided the pile of gold precisely in half.

Even halved, one share amounted to a fortune of over two thousand taels of silver.

“I accept your intentions. But half of this is an allowance from a father to his son.”

Yang-hwi did not decline; he gave a respectful nod.

“I will put it to good use. Thank you, Father.”

‘I knew Father would act like this. He has never been one to covet another’s riches.’

Even with the clan falling on hard times, he abhorred acquiring wealth through improper means.

Yang-hwi had used the excuse of repaying kindness specifically to persuade Baek Mu-ryang to accept the coin.

“You don’t seem flustered in the least. That is an extraordinary sum for a child to hold.”

“Since Father commands it, I merely obey as your son and retainer.”

In truth, it was because he had already seen through his father’s designs.

‘He wants to give me the money and watch how I spend it, probing my true character. Even if he took me in as a son, to him I’m still just a child he met yesterday.’

“Father, what became of So? If you have not disciplined him yet, please don’t be too harsh—he was only following my lead.”

“You have barely been brothers a single day, and already you look out for him? Splendid. Brothers ought to share such affection. As for So… I did not scold him.”

A look of deep satisfaction spread across Baek Mu-ryang’s face.

“He told me that following his older brother and seeing the world opened his eyes to Inhamuin and Insangmuin. I thought he was still so young, yet he has grown considerably when I wasn’t looking.”

‘No, Father. So is still very much a child.’

He chose to bury the truth, sparing his father’s joy.

Besides, spending their days together would help So mature far faster than he had in his past life.

Of that, he was certain. It wasn’t a mere hope; it was his explicit intention.

“That is all for tonight. Go wash up and get some sleep. You had a long day.”

“And what of you, Father?”

“I have a little more work to attend to before bed. Besides… with this much wealth in hand, I must decide how best to put it to use.”

Baek Mu-ryang beamed as he looked down at the pile of gold.

The thought of finally showing generosity to his hard-pressed retainers seemed to lift his spirits immensely.

Yang-hwi almost cautioned him to make sure the Cheongsa Gang didn’t catch wind of it, but held his tongue.

Humble though the estate was, the man was still the clan patriarch. He was hardly oblivious to such matters.

“Then I will take my leave. Have a restful night, Father.”

Leaving the office and returning to his room, Yang-hwi counted the wealth he had secured.

‘Converted to silver, it comes to exactly two thousand and fifty-five taels.’

It was a massive sum, enough to employ ten servants for more than half a year.

Far too much coin, without question, to rest in the hands of a mere child.

In other words, in a child’s body, finding a suitable use for it was no simple feat.

And yet.

Even before the sun had risen today, Yang-hwi had already decided how he would deploy it.

‘I must invest and multiply it. I can hardly stop here.’

His ultimate goal was nothing less than making the Baek Clan the greatest family under heaven.

That meant swelling their ranks by hundreds of times and elevating their martial prowess beyond all comparison.

For such an ambition, two thousand taels of gold—let alone silver—would fall pitifully short.

“Now let’s see. Which merchant guild rises to the very top of Jiangxi Province in the years to come?”

If he could follow his heart, he would travel straight to Zhejiang Province to invest in the Danseo Merchant Company, destined to become the greatest guild under the heavens. Yet an eight-year-old boy could hardly trek to another province.

They called it a province, but its breadth and distance rivaled that of an entire kingdom.

No matter how vast his memories of a past life were, his small body simply could not endure such a journey.

‘For now, I must operate strictly within Jiangxi Province—no, within Muju. And even then, confined as much as possible to E’an County.’

The realm of the martial arts was vast, and just as perilous. Wandering recklessly on the strength of past memories alone was a sure way to end up dead.

Having spent over a decade as a wandering martial artist, Yang-hwi knew that reality better than anyone.

“Yes, that place will do nicely.”

He recalled one of the merchant guilds destined to skyrocket ten years from now through sheer commercial brilliance.

The Baekseo Merchant Guild. True to its name, it had started out dealing mainly in paper and books before branching out and growing into an empire. If he remembered correctly, it was operating as a modest secondhand bookstore around this time.

‘The guild leader of the Baekseo Merchant Guild… Right now, she would only be the leader’s daughter. Regardless, rumors always spoke of Chu Yong-wol’s formidable business acumen.’

It was settled: the Baekseo Merchant Guild.

There remained the trouble of its location in Nanchang, rather than Muju where Baek Manor stood, but he could simply arrange for them to come to him.

* * *

One month later, at the break of dawn.

As was his routine, Baek Mu-ryang gathered the children early in the morning to instruct them in the martial arts.

“Yang-hwi, even if you grasped the secret essence hidden within the Sky-Covering Sword Technique in a single stroke, your body remains that of an eight-year-old child. You must discipline it diligently.”

Yang-hwi fully agreed.

Martial arts ultimately came down to wielding cold steel and striking with fists and feet against an enemy.

Naturally, a sturdier body held the upper hand.

“Cultivate your internal energy with equal diligence. The Harmonious Six-Combinations Art is an internal cultivation technique carrying the subtleties of external forms as a Dynamic Exercise; it allows one to gather qi and temper the physique at the same time.”

“Understood, Father.”

Bowing respectfully, Yang-hwi continued running through the forms of the Harmonious Six-Combinations Art until Baek Mu-ryang took his leave.

‘Accumulating qi is slow, but the physical tempering is undeniably remarkable.’

It was labeled a Third-rate art, but viewed differently, it was a foundational art.

Just as the Namgung Clan practiced the Flying Swallow Sword before attempting the Firmament Sword, and the Wudang Sect laid their groundwork with the Six-Combinations Sword before cultivating the Taiji Sword.

In that regard, the Harmonious Six-Combinations Art was a peerless discipline for building solid fundamentals.

Perhaps it was a lingering trace of what had once been a prestigious martial clan.

“Your father must go now. Train in the yard for four more hours, then have your meal and turn your minds to your studies.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Yes!”

“Understood.”

Watching the three siblings answer in chorus with a fond smile, Baek Mu-ryang departed the Martial Arts Field.

From then on, Yang-hwi guided Baek Heon-so and Baek Yeon-yeon between his own training sets.

“So, when you unleash the first stance, extend your foot an inch farther.”

“But this is how I was taught, Brother.”

“That was before you grew taller. Now that your frame has grown, your movements must shift with it.”

The passing retainers said nothing at the sight.

Over the past month, Yang-hwi had thoroughly etched his brilliance into the minds of everyone in the household.

“Brother, what about me?”

“Yeon-ah, I think you need to build up a bit more strength. Won’t you practice the Harmonious Six-Combinations Art with me?”

“Okay!”

A spontaneous smile tugged at his lips as he watched Baek Yeon-yeon bounce along, mimicking the movements of the Harmonious Six-Combinations Art.

“Look at that, wonderful! At this rate, Yeon-ah will become the finest heroine in the realm.”

“Really? Hiyah! Hiyah!”

“Well done, very well done!”

Showering her with doting praise, Yang-hwi felt eyes on him and glanced over.

Baek Heon-so was watching him with a peculiar look.

“Ahem. That’s enough martial practice for now. Let’s go eat, then get to our studies.”

In the Baek Clan, they skipped breakfast, opting instead for an early midday meal and a more generous dinner.

A clan tradition, so they called it—though in truth, it was an unspoken rule born of pinched pockets.

Joining them at the table was the Clan Matriarch, Jeong In-hwa.

“So, Yeon-ah, did your morning training go well?”

“Yes, Mother! Today I went through the Sky-Covering Sword Technique from start to finish over a hundred times!”

“Me too! I worked hard on the Harmonious Six-Combinations Art! Brother Hwi taught me!”

A warm smile touched Jeong In-hwa’s lips, followed by a faint cough.

“Cough, cough.”

Yang-hwi watched his mother in quiet concern.

Frail since her youth, Jeong In-hwa had always struggled to step beyond the manor gates.

Bearing two children had left her with a chronic illness, and now, rather than venturing out, she spent more than half of each day confined to her bed.

Yet she remained a loving mother who never failed to share at least one meal a day with her children.

‘A soul so gentle that she wraps even me, a child not of her own flesh and blood, in tender warmth.’

He could not bear to stand by and watch her succumb to illness just five years from now.

‘I must earn a greater fortune as soon as possible, if only to preserve that smile.’

With that resolve settled in his heart, Yang-hwi smiled and spoke to Jeong In-hwa.

“Mother, are you feeling unwell today?”

“I feel much better today, child. Do not fret.”

“So and Yeon told me that you spend most of your days inside your room. If you ever find yourself lonely, please call for me anytime. I would gladly keep you company.”

Jeong In-hwa gave a gentle smile.

“Hwi, you are such a tenderhearted boy. Your mother is quite all right, so look after your younger brother and sister instead.”

“I am naturally overflowing with affection, Mother. In fact, I couldn’t possibly dote on them any more than I already do. Isn’t that right, you two?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Yes, Brother.”

Yang-hwi watched them with fond satisfaction for a moment before turning back to Jeong In-hwa.

“Mother, how do you usually pass the hours in your room?”

“I read. Ever since I was young, poetry and literature have been my quiet pastimes.”

He already knew as much. What was more, he knew that her true secret passion lay in reading something other than classical verse and essays.

“Then, Mother… do you happen to have any interest in popular tales and street novels?”

Popular tales and street novels. A term for the stories whispered among idle gossips or stirring tales of Jianghu legends.

Commonly referred to as trivial fiction—novels.

“Popular tales?”

Curiosity flickered in Jeong In-hwa’s eyes. It was only natural.

Barred from the world outside, her private indulgence was to obtain such novels and live vicariously through their pages.

“Yes, Mother. Having drifted through the streets since I was young, I’ve overheard many a fascinating tale.”

“Are you offering to play the storyteller for me?”

A storyteller—one who earned coin recounting colorful tales in crowded spots like bustling markets, inns, or winehouses.

“If it pleases you, I would like to write down what I remember and offer it to you. Might I have a blank booklet?”

“Oh, certainly. I shall have one sent to your room.”

“If it isn’t too much trouble, could you make it two instead of one?”

“That is simple enough. I will see to it.”

After enjoying the warm family meal, Yang-hwi returned straight to his quarters.

Resting upon the stool beside his bed were two blank booklets alongside brush, paper, and ink.

‘Now then. Which story should I put down first?’

A wandering martial artist often ran into stretches where training was impossible—such as waiting out escort runs—leaving endless idle hours.

Whenever that happened, Yang-hwi had sought out novels to read, and every story that captured his fancy remained etched in his memory, down to the exact phrasing.

‘Right, that’s the one.’

On the covers of the two blank booklets, Yang-hwi wrote the titles Dongbang Seoto and Lover’s Fate at the Precipice, then began filling the pages with swift, uninterrupted strokes of his brush.

A short while later, holding Lover’s Fate at the Precipice from between the two completed booklets, he made his way to Jeong In-hwa’s quarters.

“Mother, it is Hwi. I have finished the writing and brought it for you.”

“Thank you, child.”

Jeong In-hwa took Lover’s Fate at the Precipice and began to read slowly.

Her expression, initially reflecting mild curiosity, shifted step by step.

“This is…”

“How do you find it?”

“It is fresh and utterly enthralling. Wherever did you hear such a story?”

A faint smile played on Yang-hwi’s lips.

‘Small wonder. It was a romance novel that swept the world like wildfire in the future.’

For that matter, more than a hundred such tales were locked away in Yang-hwi’s head.

“I pieced together various things I heard in passing, adjusting them wherever I thought it would make for a better tale.”

“…Truly?”

“Indeed, Mother.”

“My husband told me you were blessed with exceptional martial prowess, but your literary gift is just as astonishing.”

Lover’s Fate at the Precipice possessed a maturity of flavor impossible to associate with an eight-year-old child.

Far beyond a trivial piece meant merely to entertain, it carried a seasoned weight that could never be conjured without the hard-won experience and revelations of a full life.

‘If he supplied all of this through sheer imagination…’

He is a genius. A heaven-sent literary prodigy destined to carve his name as a titan of letters in the days ahead.

Jeong In-hwa gazed at Yang-hwi with undisguised wonder.

Seeing that look in her eyes, Yang-hwi felt certain he could now ask her for a favor.

“On that note, Mother… would it be possible to send a letter to Nanchang?”

With his seed money secured, the time had come to start building his fortune in earnest.