Chapter 28
“First, your eyes are narrow, your build is slender, and your face… looks a bit like a pampered child… No, what am I even saying?”
Mairan realized it was already too late to take back her disrespectful comment. She pressed her hand to her forehead and let out a deep sigh.
“Anyway, that’s how you look. According to the servants working in the main hall, you speak very little. It’s apparently hard to know what you like or what you’re thinking.”
“I see.”
Hongseol answered gloomily.
Being of unknown origin and even wearing stolen clothes, there was no way she could easily catch the family head’s attention. That’s why she had hoped to gather at least a bit of information in advance.
But the information Mairan provided only seemed to make Hongseol feel more intimidated.
“Oh, there’s one unusual thing. I don’t know anything about martial arts, but I heard that the current family head has the lowest martial arts level among all past heads.”
“Huh?”
Hongseol’s ears perked up.
“I think they said… only first-class level. Of course, by our standards that’s still impressive, but apparently, it’s the first time in the family’s history that someone with such a low level became the head of the Namgung family.”
“Really?”
Even young Hongseol found this puzzling.
In martial families, martial skill is the only measure that counts. The head of the Namgung family is naturally expected to be a highly skilled martial artist.
Take Grandfather Namgungho, for example. Outwardly, he seems kind and gentle, but in reality, he has reached a level of mastery in fire-based martial arts far beyond what young Hongseol could comprehend.
And yet the current head’s level was said to be only first-class?
Hongseol folded her short fingers and reviewed the martial levels she had learned from Namgung’s teachings, tilting her head in confusion.
Mairan lowered her voice and whispered,
“Actually, that’s why the family head’s younger brother—Lord Namgungyeol, the second son of the previous head—once flew into a rage and split off from the family. His martial arts skills were far superior to the current head’s.”
“Are you talking about the person who visited today?”
“Yes, exactly.”
Mairan shrugged and continued,
“Well, even though he left in anger, he didn’t go far. He settled near Soho, just below Hapbi. He often visits the main house with his family.”
“Family?”
“Yes. With Lady Peng, he has one or two sons, Namgungdo. I assume they came with him today… I heard he’s very proud of his son’s martial achievements.”
“I see.”
Hongseol had no interest in the family head of the branch. Right now, she had a much more important concern:
How can I avoid drawing the family head’s disfavor?
She pressed her lips together, deep in thought, when she suddenly sensed the presence of guards outside.
“Um… Miss Hongseol, the family head requests your presence in the reception room.”
The moment had finally arrived.
Despite standing up with determination, Hongseol’s legs trembled with nervousness.
“Uh… Mairan, I have a favor to ask.”
She shook Mairan’s sleeve. When Mairan bent down, Hongseol tiptoed and whispered into her ear.
Mairan’s eyes widened in surprise as she asked,
“Really? You want me to do that?”
Hongseol nodded with a pale expression.
In the spacious tea room of Ch’angcheon Pavilion, three men were seated across from each other.
One was the former family head, Namgungho.
Another was a man with a smooth, boyish chin, half-lidded eyes, and an alluring aura. His long nose was sharp and elegant, and his lips hinted at a smile that made women’s hearts flutter. His overall appearance seemed more suited to writing at a desk than to martial combat.
“Father.”
Namgungon, the current head of the Namgung family, had just returned from suppressing a flotilla on the Yangtze River. Although the actual work was carried out by Namgung’s strike team, the Northern River Corps, he had merely issued orders.
“Yes, good work. Was everything handled well?”
“Yes. We burned the enemy ships and cut down all their crews.”
It had long been common for enemy ships to swarm the Yangtze. Previously, they exercised discretion. When demanding tolls from all other ships, those flying Namgung’s banner were let through unharmed, out of fear of the family’s power.
But in recent months, even ships under Namgung’s banner began to be attacked—rumor had it that only Namgung-flagged ships were being targeted.
Initially, lower-ranked warriors were sent to handle the situation, but the enemy’s tactics were abnormal.
These disorganized enemy forces now acted strategically and cohesively. Moreover, according to intelligence sources, at least one or two elite fighters were mixed among the enemy.
So the family head, Namgungon, personally intervened.
“Suddenly, elite fighters among the weak enemies of Biryo Fortress? There must be a backer. Could it be the work of those cunning bandits?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Why couldn’t you uncover the mastermind?”
“All of them had poisons in their mouths. They collapsed and died before we could even react.”
“Ha!”
An arrogant voice suddenly interjected.
“You should have called me, brother! I would have smashed those enemy heads in one blow without giving them time to even bite the poison! Hahaha!”
The man laughing boldly was Namgungyeol, the second son of Namgungho and Namgungon’s only younger brother.
His laughter stiffened Namgungon’s expression. Surely his ambitious younger brother was blaming his own weakness for the humiliation of Namgung’s ships.
“If I had been at the main house, no ship under Namgung’s banner would have suffered such disgrace.”
He even subtly blamed the family head for the enemies’ troubles. Namgungon gripped the hilt of his sword without realizing it.
Seeing this, Namgungyeol sneered,
“Don’t worry, brother. You’ll have your chance soon.”
He was referring to the annual friendly duel between brothers.
Three years ago, after the family tragedy, Namgungon refused all outside duel requests. Having lost his wife to an enemy, and his eldest son to poison, no one could blame him. Everyone, that is, except his younger brother Namgungyeol.
“I want to learn from you, brother. After all, we are family who share the same pain, aren’t we?”
Namgungon had no choice but to accept. Over two years, the brothers fought repeatedly, and Namgungon never won once. That’s why Namgungyeol was so triumphant.
“Or we could settle it right now. Either way, I’ll win.”
“Enough!”
Namgungho’s angry voice silenced Namgungyeol.
“Yeol, step back.”
Namgungyeol bowed and left, saying,
“We’ll meet in a duel a week from now, brother.”
After he left, Namgungho said softly,
“Your brother is still so immature. Don’t take it to heart.”
“….”
Namgungon remained silent for a long time before changing the subject, his expression hardened.
“While you were away, I noticed someone had been in my quarters.”
He wasn’t blaming the servants for cleaning; there was resentment in his gaze.
“The chest where I kept my child’s silk clothes was empty.”
The clothes had likely been worn by the child brought by the father—Hongseol.
These silks were made in advance when his wife, Bing Yuhua, was pregnant with their fourth child—a precious daughter, after three sons. Midwives predicted it was a daughter based on dreams and the shape of the belly.
Excited, Namgungon had made her clothes and shoes in advance for ten years, giving them to his wife. Others thought it excessive, but he didn’t care.
Then one day, the child left suddenly, just as she had arrived.
There was barely time to grieve. That day, he lost not only the child but also his mother to the enemy, his wife fainted, and his eldest son perished from poison.
The grief came later, leaving a hollow in his chest. Only the pre-made silk garments remained—a child he hadn’t even named.
Suppressing a surge of emotion, Namgungon asked,
“Did father perhaps give these clothes to the child named Hongseol?”
