Rustle. Rustle.

“How pretty.”

“Ho-yeon, look at your sister.”

“…”

Ho-yeon was not pleased with the current situation.

After oversleeping from a late night out, he awoke to find Peng Sohwa and Namgung Sang-ah invading his room together.

“Much better after applying olive oil.”

“Oh my! Even the plum blossom hairpin suits you so well!”

Peng Sohwa was brushing his messy hair with an oil-coated comb, while Namgung Sang-ah was testing various hair ornaments on him one by one.

‘Damn it…’

Ho-yeon grit his teeth and grumbled internally, but didn’t voice it aloud.

Because the mother and daughter teasing him looked so genuinely cheerful.

“Hehe, Mom, did you hear the news?”

“What news?”

Namgung Sang-ah asked cheerfully, and Peng Sohwa tilted her head.

Then Sang-ah curled her lips into a sly grin and said with satisfaction:

“The Baekun Trading Group caught on fire!”

“Really? I hope no one got hurt…”

“Fortunately or not, it was just the warehouse that burned down.”

Peng Sohwa showed concern, but Namgung Sang-ah shrugged.

“But guess what? That warehouse held thousands of bolts of silk.”

“Oh dear!”

“They were the highest-grade silks bound for Beijing—huge losses!”

Namgung Sang-ah’s face was glowing with smug delight.

At the same time, Ho-yeon’s lips curled into a faint smile.

‘Heh. Hit the jackpot. I only meant to scorch a few buildings, but this turned out better than expected. A total win-win.’

Rakhee-Bihee (樂喜非喜) — “Happy if it’s happy, happy even if it’s not.”

In other words, a situation where you’re satisfied no matter what.

As Ho-yeon silently praised his own good fortune, Cheonraegeom (Thunder Sword) grumbled in disbelief:

—What? Just burn down a few buildings? You brat! Do you think that’s how a normal person thinks?!

‘Come now. The Baekun Trading Group is an enemy of the Namgung family. And the basic rule in war is to annihilate the enemy.’

—What kind of fake military manual taught you that?! Even Sun Tzu said, “To subdue the enemy without fighting is best.”

‘How do you win without fighting? That Sun Tzu guy was soft.’

—You little barbarian!

While Ho-yeon bickered through sword-soul resonance with Cheonraegeom—

Thud! Slam!

Hurried footsteps echoed through the corridor.

Bang!

The door burst open.

“Huff, huff!”

“Cheong-gang? Are you okay?”

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!”

The young man gasping for breath was Namgung Cheong-gang.

Peng Sohwa looked alarmed at his pale face, and Namgung Sang-ah scolded him for barging into someone’s room.

“Huff… Ho… Ho-yeon!”

Ignoring the others, Namgung Cheong-gang fixed his eyes on Ho-yeon.

“Uh… Yes?”

Confused, Ho-yeon blinked.

Cheong-gang stared at him in disbelief.

“D-did you… really write this?!”

Rustle.

He pulled a book from his sleeve.

The cover read: “Chang-Gung-Mu-Ae (Boundless Firmament)”, the calligraphy razor-sharp.

It was Ho-yeon’s handwriting.

“Ah, yes.”

“…Oh my god.”

“Hey, are you okay?”

Namgung Sang-ah asked, worried by her brother’s stunned expression.

But Cheong-gang shouted like he’d just witnessed a miracle:

“The entire clan is in an uproar right now!”

“Uh… you seem to be the one in an uproar.”

“I’m serious! It’s because of the sword manuals Ho-yeon wrote!”

“What?”

Both Peng Sohwa and Namgung Sang-ah turned to stare at Ho-yeon.

But Ho-yeon looked just as bewildered.

‘What the hell? What did Dad do this time?’

One hour earlier.

Chang-Gung Hall — the great conference room.

At the central head seat, Clan Leader Namgung Baek sat with a solemn expression. Behind him stood a man in silence.

On either side sat five elders — three men, two women — and behind them, nine middle-aged men.

Sixteen total.

“Hmmm. How long has it been since we last held a Changcheon Meeting?”

“Memory going already? It was three months ago.”

A white-bearded old man spoke, and a short, grumpy elder grumbled.

Then a bald elder muttered bluntly:

“Not three, four months.”

“Really? Time flies. Guess we’re close to the grave, huh?”

As the three men chattered, two women beside them clicked their tongues.

“Ugh, quiet down. Let the Clan Head speak first!”

“…Brothers, hush now.”

One was a fiery old lady with white hair. The other, a composed middle-aged woman.

These five made up the Five Elders of Namgung.

The nine men behind them were the Nine Department Heads (9 Dangju).

The Namgung clan was structured as 5 Elders, 9 Departments, 27 Subdivisions.

Only department heads attended this highest-ranking meeting: Changcheon Conference.

“Thank you for making time. Let us begin.”

Namgung Baek opened with a heavy voice.

“Dangju of Thousand Ears. What’s the update on the Baekun fire?”

“Yes.”

The Thousand Ears Hall, in charge of intelligence, responded. Namgung Seo, its head, stepped forward.

“The joint investigation between Baekun and Geumneung Trading concluded it was arson.”

“Arson?”

“Yes. It broke out in too many places simultaneously to be accidental.”

“Suspects?”

“Unknown.”

Second Elder Namgung Yeom growled:

“What do you mean, unknown?! Been slacking off lately, have you?”

“…My apologies.”

“Hey! Yeom, don’t be rude.”

“Bah! I raised Seo since he was a baby! He better do his job right!”

“Separate personal and professional matters, will you?”

Namgung So, the First Elder and former Thousand Ears head, intervened.

“…The magistrate’s investigation found no witnesses, no suspects. Just two small flints. They say only a ghost could have pulled it off.”

“Bah!”

“What about impact on our clan?”

Ignoring Yeom’s grumbling, Namgung Baek asked his next question.

This time, a scholarly man in traditional robes stepped forward.

“May I speak, Clan Head?”

“Go ahead, Foreign Affairs Head.”

“It’s estimated Baekun owes Geumneung 500,000 nyang in penalty.”

“F-five hundred thousand nyang?!”

“Was the silk that valuable?”

“That includes management liability fees too, surely.”

Murmurs rippled through the hall.

Once the noise died down, Namgung Jacheong, the Foreign Affairs Head, continued.

“In panic, Baekun has filed a formal complaint to the authorities.”

“A complaint?”

“To demand repayment of overdue promissory notes backed by our clan.”

“…”

Namgung Baek fell silent. Then said gravely:

“We’ll hand over the northern farmlands.”

“Clan Head! You can’t!”

Namgung Sang-bo, the finance head, jumped up.

“You’d give up that golden land for a pittance?!”

“We have no choice.”

“But—!”

“Rumors even claim we’ll marry Sang-ah off to Baekun to cover our debts.”

A chilling aura spread from Namgung Baek’s words.

“What nerve! A servant dares insult his master!”

Namgung Yeom exploded in rage.

The others didn’t look happy either.

Namgung Sang-ah, married off to that pig from Baekun?

Unthinkable.

“I’d rather cut him down and take my own life!”

The hall grew heated.

Sang-bo could only sweat, unable to speak further.

‘That land… our budget will be halved next year…’

“Don’t worry too much.”

Namgung Baek turned to Sang-bo.

“If our new escort business succeeds, we’ll recover the losses. Isn’t that right, Chief of Martial Security?”

“Yes, sir!”

Boom! Boom!

The muscular man beat his chest.

“I, Namgung Ho, swear to make the escort business a success!”

“Hmmm…”

“Let’s see…”

Some elders were skeptical.

‘Naturally. It’s a new, untested venture.’

Namgung Baek understood.

Unlike ordinary escort services, this was Ho-Pyo (護票) — escorting the escorts.

‘Many escort firms lack elite fighters. Without them, they can’t take big jobs and vanish into obscurity.’

So Namgung’s plan was to lend high-level bodyguards for profit.

‘We’ve already invested in training elite warriors. That’s our true strength.’

Creating a new market from the existing network.

The escort protects the goods. Namgung’s warriors protect the escort.

High risk, but high reward.

The clan’s future depended on this project.

Especially now that they had to yield land to Baekun.

“Now then. Let’s move to the main agenda.”

Main agenda?

Wasn’t that what they’d been discussing?

Some looked puzzled, while others straightened with anticipation.

The real focus of today’s meeting was not the fire, nor the escort business, but—

“Archives Head. What’s the current status?”

“…The Changgyeong Pavilion is overflowing. We’re overwhelmed. Even working through the night, we can’t meet demand.”

A small woman with dark circles under her eyes responded.

“Clan Head, which master did you invite? It’s not the Sword Emperor, is it? He’s an outsider.”

“Hehe. Not my father-in-law. It’s one of our own.”

“…Excuse me?”

Her eyes widened.

The Pavilion was swamped because of new sword manuals.

They were based on Namgung’s techniques, but… completely reinterpreted.

‘Someone with such profound insights wrote them… and they’re one of us?’

The woman stared at Namgung Baek in disbelief.

He smiled proudly and announced:

“I have something to share. Our youngest, Namgung Ho-yeon, is the greatest genius of our time.”

“……?”

“……!”

“…….”

A flood of reactions erupted inside Chang-Gung Hall.