Chapter 11
A sharp snort cut through the air — the sound came from Mando, who, as usual, couldn’t read the mood.
Hyeokho’s brow furrowed deeply at his grandson’s insolent behavior.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ll repay Biwon Pavilion’s debt by becoming a pyo-sa (escort warrior).”
The debt of Biwon Pavilion — she meant the money So Cheonlim had borrowed to save Shina’s life.
“So please allow me to receive training at Boguk Pavilion again.”
Boguk Pavilion had been established in the early days of the Manyang Bureau by its founder, who often had to go on escort missions himself. It served as an educational institution to train the family’s children in the family’s martial arts, even when the head was away.
As the Bureau expanded, it began hiring from outside the family, and now even official pyo-sas of the Manyang Bureau were trained at Boguk Pavilion.
However, teaching the very first stages of the So family’s martial arts to their children remained Boguk Pavilion’s duty.
‘The Heaven-Earth Sword Art and the Sea River Sword Art can wait until Father teaches me. But the basics — the Tiger’s Breathing Technique and the Tiger’s Sword Form — must be mastered at Boguk Pavilion. That’s the rule.’
So what Shina was asking for was simple — to be allowed to learn martial arts again.
For a moment, Hyeokho felt pity. Did Shina even know how much money Cheonlim had borrowed to save her?
‘She’d faint if she heard. Five hundred gold bars — without even counting interest.’
That was a fortune an average pyo-sa could never earn in an entire lifetime.
And yet this frail child — who’d dropped out of training because of her health, and whose mastery of even the most basic Tiger’s Breathing was shallow — was now claiming she would repay that debt?
‘She’s clever, but this is impossible. I can’t crush her spirit, though. Best to pretend I didn’t hear it.’
Hyeokho turned his gaze away.
“Leave.”
But Shina didn’t back down.
“Five hundred gold bars.”
At that, Hyeokho’s eyes snapped toward her.
“What did you say?”
“The debt of Biwon Pavilion — five hundred gold bars. I’ll repay it.”
She knew far more than he’d expected.
“Grandfather, I’m not asking you to trust me blindly. I’ll prove it.”
Now Hyeokho was genuinely intrigued.
What could this small child possibly be thinking? How far was she willing — or able — to go?
“And how will you prove it?”
“I’ll prove that I have talent as a pyo-sa.”
Their eyes met midair.
In Shina’s gaze, Hyeokho saw a fierce, burning light — the unyielding flame of determination he admired most.
His lips twitched.
He had never thought this child — who seemed unfit to even become a pyo-sa, let alone heir to the family — would look at him with such eyes.
Suppressing the urge to smile, Hyeokho said,
“How will you prove it?”
Shina’s original plan had been simply to ask for permission to resume training. But seeing his reaction, she dared to aim higher.
“I will enter the escort selection trials.”
“What?”
“If I pass the selection for trainee escorts, please let me compete as a legitimate heir candidate of the Manyang Bureau.”
“Do you even know what that entails?”
Shina had spoken easily, but becoming a jangjasu — a trainee escort — was far from easy.
The selection tested endurance (carrying heavy packs for long hours without rest), navigation skills in unfamiliar terrain, and the quick wit needed to handle unforeseen danger.
And it wasn’t a written exam or a simple test of strength.
The Manyang Bureau’s jangjasu trials were conducted in multiple rounds, designed to mimic real escort missions.
The final and most decisive stage paired each applicant with one official pyo-sa and another candidate, forming a trio tasked with protecting a cargo item.
“Yes, I know. I’ve already chosen who I’ll work with.”
“And who might that be?”
Would there even be a pyo-sa willing to partner with her? That would be her first obstacle.
Even if she passed all the trials, if she couldn’t find a partner, the Bureau would assign one — but no pyo-sa would willingly risk their position for the Bureau Chief’s frail granddaughter.
Yet again, Hyeokho’s expectation was upended.
“So Cheondo — my older brother — will join me. And the other is Mugyeol! Mugyeol will take the selection test too!”
As soon as she mentioned Mugyeol, Shina realized her mistake.
Mugyeol was still Hyeokho’s servant. He couldn’t take the exam without permission.
‘I spoke too fast.’
She quickly added,
“That is… if you allow it, Grandfather.”
Hyeokho’s expression shifted as he considered it.
The So family’s children, upon completing their basic education at Boguk Pavilion, became apprentice pyo-sas.
Boguk Pavilion, as a specialized training institution, received direct support from the Bureau to cultivate skilled escorts. It often hosted martial contests and joint training sessions, even handling the education of the So children up to a certain level.
That level was defined by one standard — whether the student could perform the complete Tiger’s Sword Form.
Though they also learned fist, kick, and step techniques, the core of the So family’s martial arts lay in swordsmanship, supported by the right breathing method.
And Cheondo had already mastered the final form of the Tiger’s Sword Art long ago.
‘My brother only stopped training because he wanted to become a scholar. He’s fully qualified.’
Shina knew that ever since Cheondo completed his training, he’d focused on academic studies instead of martial arts.
‘Grandfather must’ve forgotten that!’
Having already prepared partners for her plan, Shina left Hyeokho with little room to object.
Cheondo’s credentials as an apprentice pyo-sa were valid.
‘No reason to refuse. It wouldn’t hurt to give her a chance. I’ll see whether her courage is just recklessness or something more.’
And he was genuinely curious to see if Shina could actually pass.
“Very well. I permit it.”
“Thank you, Grandfather.”
“Your courage is admirable. If you pass the jangjasu exam, I’ll pardon your theft.”
“Truly?”
Shina’s face lit up with joy, though she quickly sobered.
“Then… what about Mugyeol?”
“You’ll take responsibility for him. Why? Can’t you? If my servant becomes a trainee escort, that benefits me too. Will you take responsibility for that as well?”
Though his words sounded scolding, Hyeokho’s tone was soft.
“Yes! I can do it.”
‘Everything’s going just as I planned.’
Shina inwardly rejoiced as she rose. Mando, reading the mood, also stood up — only for Hyeokho to stop him.
“Mando, stay seated.”
Mando immediately knelt again, bowing his head low.
Shina quietly stepped aside to watch the exchange.
“How do you plan to compensate me for the losses you’ve caused?”
Of course — Hyeokho hadn’t missed the hint Shina had planted earlier.
Mando’s face stiffened, and Shina cheered inwardly.
“I will also take the jangjasu exam.”
“What?”
“I’ll become an excellent pyo-sa and repay my debt to you, Grandfather. Before I turn fifteen, I can’t go on escort missions, so I’ll first prove my ability as a jangjasu. If necessary, I’ll join escort missions as a trainee.”
In the Manyang Bureau, no So family child was allowed to participate in escort missions before the age of fifteen — even if they’d earned apprentice status.
The life of a pyo-sa was perilous — long journeys, dangerous terrain, ambushes. The family tried to protect its children for as long as possible.
Occasionally, a promising youth might be allowed to accompany a mission as a jangjasu, but that was rare.
Moreover, most apprentices had no desire to take such risks.
Yet here was Mando, volunteering for it. He had noticed how Hyeokho’s expression softened while speaking with Shina, and now tried to take advantage of that mood.
‘Cunning brat.’
Shina glared at him, then quickly composed her face.
‘Will Grandfather fall for it?’
She sneaked a glance at Hyeokho’s face.
He was frowning again.
He disliked how lightly Mando treated the exam.
But since he had already granted Shina permission, he couldn’t easily deny Mando.
It would also be a good way to teach the boy how harsh the Bureau’s world truly was.
“Fine. Do as you wish.”
At that, Mando’s face lit up in relief.
“Thank you, Grandfather!”
Without replying, Hyeokho turned and walked away — a silent sign that the conversation was over.
Mando and Shina quietly bowed and withdrew from the room.
