A Bet
As expected.
A few days later, Yeon Chaehos, the owner of the Geumho Manor and Yeon Hwitae's father, summoned him to his room.
Yeon Hwitae had a rough idea of what the conversation would be about, so he mentally prepared himself. With an indifferent expression, he went to see his father.
"Father, it's Yeon Hwitae."
"Come in."
When Yeon Hwitae opened the door and entered the master's study, he saw Yeon Chaeho busily flipping through documents. Watching him focus on paperwork without even acknowledging his presence, despite having called him in, Yeon Hwitae let out a bitter laugh inwardly. Somehow, he could tell what his father was up to. It was a tactic he himself had often used in his past life—to gain the upper hand in a negotiation or deal by keeping the other person waiting.
Remembering that, he instead relaxed. He couldn't afford to lose ground here. In situations like this, showing even a hint of unease or desperation would only play into the opponent's hand. And since he had a good guess as to what his father was going to ask, he had no intention of losing.
"Ahem…"
Finally, it seemed the battle of nerves disguised as paperwork had ended, and Yeon Chaeho cleared his throat, launching his first offensive.
"You haven't come to see your father much lately."
"I would never be so inconsiderate as to interrupt you when you're so busy with work."
Though his father tried to take the lead by criticizing him, his son's counterattack was no less formidable.
'…He may be my son, but he's an old man in a young body.'
Suppressing a bitter smile, Yeon Chaeho paused for a moment before getting to the main point.
"Ahem. I hear you've been going out on your own and teaching yourself martial arts lately… is that true?"
"Yes, it is."
Yeon Hwitae admitted it without hesitation.
He judged that now wasn't the time for excuses or lies.
"I've heard it's a kind of martial art that only back-alley thugs would use…?"
"Oh come on, surely not?"
His son's shameless nonchalance finally made his anger boil over.
"My son, are you trying to joke with me? The bodyguard tells me you roll on the ground, throw punches and kicks like a brawler—isn't that the kind of martial art practiced by third-rate thugs?"
"But eventually, they'll become my unique, original martial arts techniques."
"What?"
What nonsense was this?
"You may not know this, Father, but when I was young, I happened to meet an old master who taught me these arts. That person was truly an extraordinary expert…"
"You fool of a boy. At least try to make up something believable—do you really expect me to fall for that?"
'Yep, that didn't work.'
He had initially chosen to be honest, but the moment he tried to change tack and make excuses, his father's outburst crushed that attempt instantly.
"No more nonsense. If you want to become a martial artist, then learn properly. I'll call in some connections and bring a good teacher for you. Or better yet, why not enter the nearby Mount Hua Sect as an inner disciple?"
"I refuse!"
Yeon Hwitae firmly rejected the idea.
"What did you say?"
"My martial arts are excellent techniques that I've mastered myself. There's no need for me to learn by following others."
Yeon Chaeho grabbed the back of his neck in frustration. He knew his son very well, having raised him for years. Normally, he was an obedient and polite child, but when it came to something he'd set his mind on, he was impossibly stubborn. Scolding or corporal punishment didn't work on him. Even if beaten until his legs bled, he would grit his teeth and silently endure it. It was enough to make anyone lose their nerve.
'He's usually so gentle, but in times like this, he turns into a total hardhead… sheesh.'
Still, Yeon Chaeho couldn't back down either. When he first heard this from Jang Myeong, he hadn't been too concerned. He thought his son would give up quickly and come running back, begging for help. But the accident he heard about a few days ago scared him.
Though a merchant, Yeon Chaeho had enough involvement with the martial world to recognize things when he saw them. It hadn't taken long to realize that the martial techniques his son was using were bizarre to the point of being unnatural. And hearing that he'd nearly fallen into qihuo (a deviation from normal martial cultivation, often leading to madness or death) was the last straw.
"Enough. I'll send you to the Mount Hua Sect in ten days. That's final."
"Father!"
Yeon Hwitae shouted, but his father didn't budge. Truthfully, he wanted to say, 'If you won't listen to me, then get out of this house!' but knowing his son's personality, he was sure the boy would actually leave, so he held back.
Meanwhile, Yeon Hwitae, now cornered, quickly turned the gears in his head. He had full confidence in his training methods and martial arts, so backing down here wasn't an option. Thankfully, he quickly came up with the best solution.
"Then how about this instead, Father? Let's make a bet."
"What? A bet?"
"Yes. You want to send me to Mount Hua because you have connections there, don't you? Then ask them to send a post-heaven disciple around my age—someone considered highly promising. I'll have a sparring match with them. We'll compare their martial arts to mine and see whose is superior."
"Well, I'll be…"
Though Yeon Chaeho was stunned by his son's boldness, his interest was secretly piqued.
At that moment, Yeon Hwitae drove the nail in.
"If I lose, I won't say another word and will do exactly as you say. But! If I win, you'll stop interfering with my training."
"…"
As his father closed his eyes and fell into thought, Yeon Hwitae swallowed dryly.
Eventually…
"Fine. The loser of the bet will do as the winner says."
"Understood."
"A man's word is?"
"Worth a thousand gold!"
Having gotten a clear answer from his father, Yeon Hwitae left the room feeling satisfied.
Watching his son's retreating figure, Yeon Chaeho chuckled.
"Heh heh heh… You little brat, you think you came up with some clever plan, but you've got no idea what you're in for. If we're talking about disciples your age from the Mount Hua Sect, it'll probably be that girl… the direct disciple of Gi Hyeokdo, the Plum Blossom Righteous Hero and chief elder. Even though she's a girl, no one her age can match her achievements. Heh…"
With a sinister grin, Yeon Chaeho muttered to himself.
"Compared to you, self-taught with those weird, scrappy martial arts, she's on another level entirely. You don't even realize you've just dug your own grave! Heh heh… Serves you right."
As he watched his son walk off in the distance, his laugh had all the villainy of a cartoonish bad guy.
On the western side of Mount Hua in Hwaeum County, Shaanxi Province, stood Lotus Peak. At its summit was the Mount Hua Sect, one of the Nine Great Sects of the martial world, renowned for its swordsmanship—second only to the Wudang Sect in the south.
After a decline following the Great War of Good and Evil, the sect had worked tirelessly to recover. Now, with the emergence of prodigies like the Plum Blossom Divine Sword Wi Jo-hyeon, it had risen again to stand alongside giants like Shaolin and Wudang. Especially notable was Wi Jo-hyeon, who had been named one of the Ten Supreme Masters of the Martial World a few years back—his fame showing no signs of fading.
Gi Hyeokdo, also known by the title Plum Blossom Righteous Hero, was a powerful martial artist and elder of the Mount Hua Sect. A few years ago, he received a letter from an old friend with whom he regularly corresponded. Normally, such letters were nothing unusual—but this one was different. No, peculiar.
"Ho ho ho…"
"Why are you laughing like that, Master?"
"A letter came from an old friend of mine. It looks like we'll have to visit his home together."
Gi Hyeokdo spoke kindly to his beloved disciple.
Although the Mount Hua Sect did not forbid marriage, Gi Hyeokdo had devoted his life entirely to martial cultivation and mentoring future disciples. As a result, he had never married nor even gotten close to women. Thanks to this, he had firmly reached the pinnacle of martial mastery, but as he aged, there were occasional moments when he felt a certain emptiness.
However, since taking on his disciple two years ago, even those feelings had vanished. He now had a disciple he cherished as if she were his own child—so talented and even striking in appearance that he often thought, "If I had a daughter, wouldn't it feel just like this?"
"Huh? We're going out?" she asked.
Compared to the other top four disciples, his pupil had exceptional talent. Though she was only nine years old, she was already nearing the fifth stage of the Six Harmonies Sword Technique. Even though she had only trained in the Mount Hua Sect's most basic sword techniques, her fluid execution of forms and solid foundational skills were at a level rarely seen in someone her age. In terms of skill alone, she was close to being a first-rate martial artist, and the sect was already abuzz with her reputation. On top of that, her youthful but exceptional beauty led many to believe she would one day be hailed as the most beautiful flower of Mount Hua.
"Yes," Gi Hyeokdo replied. "It's a rare chance for you to go out with your master. It's not too far, so the journey shouldn't be too hard."
"Wow…! Then we can eat candied fruit on the way?"
"Not just candied fruit. Once we get to their home, there'll probably be all sorts of delicious food."
"Really? Even dumplings?"
"Of course."
"Yay~!"
'A disciple who is perfect in every way—talent, martial comprehension, looks, personality. I haven't lived a wasted life after all.'
Gi Hyeokdo looked at his disciple, Kang Yunhwa, with affection.
"Are you that happy?"
"Yes! I love candied fruit and dumplings more than anything in the world."
"Haha… I see, I see."
Even with all her talent, her childlike innocence hadn't disappeared. In fact, it made her all the more endearing.
"Once we get there, you'll probably need to spar with someone your age."
"A spar?" she asked.
Her sparkling eyes instantly sharpened with focus at the mention of a sparring match.
Gi Hyeokdo nodded at the sight of that look.
'She may be innocent, but when it comes to martial arts, she becomes utterly serious. She really is a prodigy.'
"The letter said my friend's son is obsessed with some strange, third-rate martial art. He's around your age, and my friend is asking if you could help bring him down a notch. Do you think you can handle it?"
"What kind of martial art is it?"
Rather than making bold claims, she first wanted to assess her opponent—a commendable mindset.
"Well, it sounds like some trashy street-fighting style—rolling on the ground, throwing punches and kicks. I doubt it's anything to worry about. You should be fine. Think you can do it?"
"How hard should I go?"
"The letter said it's fine if he gets hurt—just don't leave him crippled. It seems the boy is incredibly stubborn, and my friend's had a rough time with him."
Gi Hyeokdo could empathize with his friend's frustration. If one of his own disciples insisted on practicing some unorthodox, shady martial art, he too would be pulling his hair out.
"You can handle it, right?"
"Yes. I'll give him a proper lesson."
Seeing Kang Yunhwa respond with a determined expression, Gi Hyeokdo nodded and gently patted her head.