Chapter 27
The Yeongho Clan
Thud, thud, thud!
The imperial guards laughed as they watched Ihwan’s carriage roll away, raising dust along the road.
“As the rumors said. Not a shred of resistance—he just obeyed meekly. I wonder if he wet his pants in the process.”
“He probably did.”
“Hahaha!”
The guards all burst into loud laughter.
But their captain, frowning, said nothing.
What did he mean by that?
The words Ihwan had spoken—‘Take a good rest’—stuck with him unpleasantly.
“Let’s move.”
He straightened his expression and asked,
“Did you say his last movements were at the Bamboo Grove?”
“Yes.”
“Then we’re heading there.”
“To the Bamboo Grove!”
The guards veered away, moving opposite of Ihwan’s path.
Not long after, the captain suddenly clutched his chest and bent over.
“Urgh!”
“What’s wrong, sir?”
Sluuurp—!
Blood poured down from the corner of his mouth, shocking the guards who rushed to support him.
“Quickly! Take him to a physician at once!”
“Yes, sir!”
He won’t be able to use his internal energy for at least half a year.
With his arms folded and eyes closed, Ihwan smiled faintly.
He had no intention of provoking the Imperial Guard, but neither did he plan on letting them go unscathed.
He had wanted to test the enhanced internal energy he gained from the Spirit Pill. Channeling invisible qi into the opponent’s body through his breathing, Ihwan had struck silently.
If the man had noticed, it would have been a failure. But he hadn’t. That meant it was a complete success. By now, he would be writhing in unbearable pain.
Watching Ihwan, Song Hoe tilted his head with a puzzled look.
Even after such humiliation, he’s smiling… At moments like this, he truly seems like the Grand Prince of the past…
“Captain.”
“Yes, sir?”
“We’ll march without rest until we reach the Southern Army.”
“Will you be all right, sir?”
“Think of it as training.”
“Yes, sir.”
The Southern Army.
Contrary to expectations, there was no attack from Zhao forces.
If anything, that only made the warriors more uneasy—as if it were the calm before a storm.
Hwang Ho doubled the watch and handpicked the most capable warriors for constant reconnaissance into enemy territory.
After ten days of this, some officers began to mock Ihwan’s earlier warnings.
“So-called martial masters of the jianghu, my ass.”
“We were fools for believing him.”
“Honestly, I hope he never comes back. I’m sick of everyone treating him like some exalted Grand Prince.”
Though Ihwan had changed, in many memories he was still the incompetent prince.
Then, one day, envoys arrived at the Southern Army—sent by the Second Prince.
Peng Muwi sat across from a middle-aged man whose eyes gleamed with a sharp, blade-like aura.
The man spoke coldly.
“Your slow progress has greatly disappointed the higher-ups.”
“Even an ox horn must be pulled when the iron is hot, but I’ve barely been here any time at all. Are they asking me to drive General Hwang out by force already?”
“There are many methods. Of course, it is for Left General to discover them.”
“I’m doing my utmost already. Is that the reason they sent you here?”
“They ordered me to assist the Left General. If they had full faith in you, I wouldn’t be here.”
Twitch.
Peng Muwi’s thick eyebrows quivered like caterpillars. He gulped down scalding tea in a single draught.
Sssslurp!
Clack!
“Winning the hearts of the warriors is vital. But since Zhao hasn’t attacked, there’s nothing I can do. We can’t very well launch an attack ourselves, can we?”
“Then you must make them attack.”
“If it were so simple, anyone could do it! Mishandling this could escalate into full-scale war!”
Peng Muwi raised his voice, but the middle-aged man remained unmoved, his gaze only growing calmer.
“I hear the Zhao commander enjoys imperial backing. All the better. If such a man were dealt with, the higher-ups would be most pleased.”
“Are you suggesting I assassinate Zhao’s commander?”
“I’m saying that is one option. I’ll look for better ways. For now, keep doing what you do—while searching for General Hwang’s weaknesses.”
This damned bastard!
Peng Muwi nearly steamed from the nose in fury.
He knew very well who this man was—a close confidant of the Second Prince, highly skilled in martial arts, infamous for his cruelty.
Peng had tried to show respect, but the man’s arrogance was becoming intolerable.
“I’ll take my leave for today.”
As the man walked out, Peng Muwi downed cold water furiously.
Gulp, gulp—!
Bang!
Damn it! Has it been three months, or a year? It’s barely been a month, and they’re already demanding progress. What does that brat know about military affairs?
In his mind, the Second Prince’s face shredded like torn paper.
At that moment, his deputy entered.
“The Grand Prince has returned.”
“What’s so important about that? I heard you. Leave me be!”
Back in his quarters, Ihwan was greeted by cooks and warriors.
There were plenty of new supplies. In the kitchen, rare dried fish hung in rows, and sacks of rice were piled high.
Ihwan asked the cook,
“What’s all this?”
“General Hwang told us to take whatever we wished.”
“General Hwang did?”
“Yes. Soon even beef will arrive. I’ve already requested the cut you like most, sir.”
Well, that’s unexpected.
“Wow! What’s all this?”
The others who entered exclaimed in delight. Thanks to Ihwan, they had never lacked food, but fresh fish in these mountains was beyond imagination.
Did the Crown Prince order him to treat me well?
Ihwan went inside. Even his room was filled with fruit, some rare and difficult to obtain in camp.
He smirked.
Looks like my fortunes just turned.
Changing into fresh clothes, Ihwan lay on his bed. Somehow, it felt as comfortable as home.
“Captain.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Bring me the medicine the Crown Prince sent before.”
Soon, Song Hoe returned carrying it.
“They’ve been stored too long. Best to discard them.”
“Have you ever taken a Spirit Pill?”
“Not I. The best I’ve had are a few roots of winter ginseng.”
“Take one of these daily.”
“This, sir?”
“The Crown Prince said these weren’t just medicine but an elixir that enhances internal energy.”
“……!”
Song Hoe’s eyes widened.
“With strong enough qi, you’ll be able to master higher martial arts. Take them properly, and practice your inner cultivation alongside.”
“But this precious gift is meant for you, my lord.”
“I already had one at the Crown Prince’s palace. Spirit Pills don’t get more effective the more you take. In fact, they can backfire. Don’t thank me.”
“……Thank you. Thank you, my lord!”
Song Hoe’s eyes glistened.
“Heat some water for my bath.”
“Yes, sir!”
Sniff—
As Song Hoe finally broke into tears, Ihwan smiled faintly.
So he was a true warrior after all.
That evening, Ihwan sipped tea outside his tent, gazing over the twilight-cast camp.
Somehow he had grown fond of this habit—sitting outside, enjoying the scenery. From this vantage, the view was surprisingly picturesque.
The only irritation was that Peng’s tent stood directly opposite. The feeling was mutual—Peng’s men never looked in Ihwan’s direction when he sat outside.
Woooosh.
The warm spring breeze added to the atmosphere. Ihwan allowed himself rare leisure.
Then, he narrowed his eyes. Two men in white robes exited Peng’s tent.
Never seen them before.
Even from a distance, Ihwan’s heightened power let him see the mole on one man’s face.
Both of them are skilled fighters.
The aura of martial experts clung to them. Especially the middle-aged man on the left—he was no ordinary figure.
“You’re here, my lord.”
Song Hoe returned with supplies.
“Has Peng received reinforcements?”
“General Jeong said the Second Prince sent more men. Nearly a thousand troops, to replenish losses from recent battles.”
“A thousand?”
“Yes. To make up for casualties.”
So they think Peng alone isn’t enough?
If the Southern Army fell under the Second Prince, it would influence even the border forces against Zhao.
Ihwan recalled Lee So’s words and smiled faintly.
Don’t worry, Crown Prince. Since I’ve decided to help you, that won’t happen.
The next morning, Ihwan visited Hwang Ho.
“Welcome, my lord.”
“I heard a meeting was to be held today.”
“Yes, everyone will gather shortly. But you look healthier by the day.”
“Must be because I’m lazing about.”
“Hahaha, don’t be modest. Please, have a seat. I’ll prepare tea.”
They chatted lightly until, after some time, the commanders entered one by one.
Finally, Peng Muwi entered—with the same middle-aged man in white Ihwan had seen last night. He, like Ihwan, wore martial robes instead of armor, but no one objected.
“Let’s begin.”
The meeting commenced under Hwang Ho.
Ihwan sat with arms crossed and eyes closed, listening. Nothing unusual was discussed, until the end—
“Step forward.”
Hwang Ho gestured to the white-robed man, who calmly approached.
“First, pay your respects to the Grand Prince.”
“I am Yeong Ho-chung. I greet the Grand Prince.”
He bowed deeply, but Ihwan did not open his eyes. He already knew of the man’s identity from Hwang Ho.
After introducing himself, Yeong Ho-chung returned to his seat.
So the Yeongho Clan has joined him as well…
Like the Peng Clan, the Yeongho Clan had been one of the Five Great Families two hundred years ago, during Ihwan’s reign. They had been paragons of martial virtue.
To think two of those houses now served the Second Prince… Ihwan felt bitter.
Just then—
“My lord!”
The cook rushed in, flustered. Before the commanders could scold him, he blurted out:
“A terrible incident! You must come at once!”
“What is it?”
“A fight has broken out!”
“I’ll go ahead!”
Song Hoe ran out. Ihwan asked the cook,
“Who’s fighting?”
The cook glanced at Yeong Ho-chung before replying,
“The new reinforcements, sir…”
Twitch.
Ihwan’s brows sharpened like blades.
The courtyard was slick with blood.
Inside, Cha Jung-gyeong lay covered in wounds, gasping. Song Hoe was binding his injuries, while Song Cheon-mu stood nearby, breathing heavily, barely containing his rage.
Chul Mu-ok and Gong Son-tae were absent—they had gone to the market for supplies.
Ihwan asked Song Cheon-mu,
“What happened?”
“We were sitting in the yard when Peng’s men mocked us as they passed. We couldn’t bear it and charged… but…”
“Was it Peng’s old men, or the new reinforcements?”
“It was the new ones.”
Ihwan looked down at Cha Jung-gyeong. Blood gushed from his side and chest. His life wasn’t in danger, but he’d be crippled for a while.
“Did you call the physician?”
“Yes! I’ve already sent someone!”
“Keep pressure on the wound until the bleeding stops.”
He turned to Song Cheon-mu.
“Come with me.”
