Chapter 38: The Difference in Level (4)
Yeon Ho-jeong and his group arrived at the family estate after twenty days.
Surprisingly, their appearance was far from presentable. They had replaced their return journey with training in new techniques and physical conditioning.
Naturally, Yeon Ho-jeong had spearheaded this grueling regimen. The role of instructor had been taken up by Shinmo.
By the time they reached the estate, the entire group stood on the brink of collapse.
Yet rest eluded them. Yeon Ho-jeong and Yeon Ji-pyeong were summoned to the family head’s office, while Chang Eung-dae plunged straight into training the moment he returned—it was, after all, scheduled practice time.
Though returning days from external missions typically saw all obligations canceled, Shinmo granted no reprieve. He’d already planned to intensify their training and seized the opportunity to crack the whip, declaring it fortuitous timing.
That day, Chang Eung-jo—fresh from Hefei—endured a taste of hell.
Yeon Wi’s eyebrows shot up as his sons entered his office.
Sniff
Despite the chill, the pungent tang of sweat assaulted his senses—not the stale odor of dried perspiration, but the sharp, fresh stench of recent exertion. Their disheveled clothes suggested this state had persisted for days.
“We have returned,” said Yeon Ho-jeong.
“We’re back, Father,” said Yeon Ji-pyeong.
For a breath, Yeon Wi found himself speechless. The sight of his sons’ haggard forms left him momentarily wordless. Was this how parents felt when their children returned from war?
After a pause, Yeon Wi spoke.
“Rise.”
The two stood.
Yeon Wi’s eyes sharpened. Yeon Ho-jeong’s face remained impassive, while Yeon Ji-pyeong’s features had grown gaunt. Though never robust, the younger brother now bore unmistakable signs of hardship.
“I’ll hear the full account from your elder brother. Ji-pyeong, go rest.”
“Ah... Thank you.”
The gratitude sounded almost comical coming from Yeon Ji-pyeong’s usual temperament.
As the younger son departed, only father and heir remained.
“Sit.”
“Yes.”
Yeon Ho-jeong took his seat.
Silence lingered until Chief Steward Tae-gyeong brought tea.
“Quench your thirst.”
“Yes.”
Yeon Wi’s eyes narrowed as he noted the faint tremor in his son’s hands around the teacup. Only after several sips did color return to Yeon Ho-jeong’s face.
“Explain this state,” Yeon Wi demanded.
“We trained during the return journey.”
“What manner of training?”
Yeon Ho-jeong methodically detailed their regimen.
Yeon Wi’s eyes flickered.
“You subjected Ji-pyeong to this?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“Shin Dae-ju and Chang Eung-jo participated fully.”
“...Under your command?”
“Yes.”
The ruthless bastard.
The words nearly escaped Yeon Wi unconsciously. Even he, lord of the estate, found the training shocking.
The regimen was simple—running.
The cruelty lay in its execution.
Sustained pacing at fixed speeds posed little challenge beyond endurance. But alternating between all-out sprints and reduced pace every half-gak?
They’d started with half-gak intervals of sprinting versus recovery. Each subsequent day added another half-gak to the sprint duration. Twenty days of this through mountain paths, not smooth roads.
‘Ten days without using internal energy?!’
However regimented their rest and meals—four sleep periods daily—the training bordered on brutality. Only their自幼cultivated bodies and martial foundations prevented disaster.
“We ensured proper rest and nutrition.”
“Muscles recover—joints may not.”
“I’d hardly push my body without monitoring its limits.”
“Excess training invites internal injuries.”
“Hence we reserved time for energy circulation.”
The sheer ruthlessness defied belief. Yeon Wi himself had undergone similar trials, but never for twenty consecutive days.
‘And yet...’
Yeon Wi read the energy radiating from his son’s body—once perfectly contained, now spilling uncontrolled. His stamina and internal energy had reached their brink.
‘Twenty days to achieve this... Remarkable gains.’
Though alarmed by the extreme regimen, Yeon Wi trusted his son’s judgment. The proof shone in the transformation—Yeon Ho-jeong’s energy now burned brighter and purer than before their departure, unrecognizable from his previous self.
No mere enlightenment could effect such change. Relentless physical trial had altered the very nature of his qi.
‘Qi continuously remakes the body. By pushing to collapse’s edge, then flooding it with nourishment and true energy during rest...’
Yeon Wi nodded.
“You’ve endured much.”
“This is only the beginning.”
“...Oh?”
A tired but satisfied smile touched Yeon Ho-jeong’s lips.
“This training continues until we touch the limits of mind, body, and energy. With commensurate rest, of course.”
“Resolve hardens within you.”
“Even life-risking cultivation can’t guarantee reaching the extreme. The path remains long.”
“...I see.”
Yeon Wi nodded again.
“Indeed.”
Finally.
At last, Yeon Wi accepted his son’s transformation without reservation. Before the Hefei mission, the changes had felt jarring—an abrupt shift that unsettled him.
But now, witnessing the depth in those eyes and smile, he embraced the evolution.
‘Perhaps my own stubbornness refused to acknowledge his growth.’
His son had become an adult—not through age, but through matured perspective and spirit.
Yeon Wi sank into his chair.
“How went the gathering?”
Yeon Ho-jeong’s eyes glittered.
‘I discovered something crucial, Father.’
Yet he held silent. The time for revelations hadn’t come.
“Uneventful.”
“Did you forge connections?”
“None profound.”
His tone suggested otherwise.
Yeon Wi produced a folded letter from his robes.
“What’s this?”
“Read it.”
Yeon Ho-jeong unfolded the missive. Moments later, he spoke awkwardly.
“Hm... I wouldn’t call it that grand an affair.”
“Any parent would send such praise. That’s our nature.”
“When did this arrive?”
“This morning.”
Yeon Ho-jeong coughed drily.
“That girl’s tongue wags too freely.”
The letter came directly from the Zhuge family’s head, expressing gratitude. Given its timing, the matter had been reported before the gathering.
Yeon Wi nodded.
“Well done.”
“It’s nothing worth noting.”
Though his face showed nothing, pride swelled in Yeon Wi’s chest. His son dismissed saving a life as trivial—a stark contrast to his former brashness. The boy now grasped human duty even as he grew more formidable.
He cut to the heart.
“I hear you’ve tangled thoroughly with the Namgung family.”
Yeon Ho-jeong nodded, having anticipated this.
“Yes.”
“Detail the circumstances.”
Yeon Ho-jeong recounted events objectively, omitting Myeong Ho-rim’s involvement. The account remained complete without it.
“I see.” Yeon Wi recognized his son’s impartiality.
“So Namgung’s Yi Gongja acted thus.”
“Yes.”
Yeon Wi’s gaze turned glacial.
His son flinched unconsciously. Cold crept up his spine—never before had he seen such frigid intensity in his father’s eyes.
“This surpasses mere ill fate. Their actions overstep.”
“I wished no entanglement, but collaborating with the Tang heir crossed lines.”
“Naturally. How does one so young master such venomous schemes?”
Yeon Ho-jeong pondered inwardly. Had his father grown more emotionally transparent since their last meeting?
“You handled it well.”
“Pardon?”
Yeon Wi’s eyes shone clear. Though his stern aura remained, it felt as though an icy layer had melted away.
“Rumors cut deeper than blades at times. You showed wisdom in avoiding rash retaliation.”
“Ah... Yes.”
‘He doesn’t know.’ Yeon Ho-jeong suppressed thoughts of the half-dead Tang heir and subordinates. Han Ho-myeong’s thorough cover-up prevented explosion—for now.
“Yet they too understand rumor’s power.”
“Meaning?”
“The Namgung family formally apologized.”
Yeon Ho-jeong’s brow furrowed.
“Apologized?”
“Their patriarch personally acknowledged fault.”
“Impossible...”
“He even confessed his daughter’s role.”
Yeon Ho-jeong snorted.
“Viperous cunning.”
Yeon Wi’s eyes gleamed.
“Do you grasp the situation?”
“He sacrificed his daughter to preserve his son’s standing. Framed it as personal vendetta unrelated to their house.”
Internal admiration bloomed in Yeon Wi. His son had pieced together the scheme from fragments—a feat requiring not just intellect, but insight into worldly currents.
“Correct.”
“Hah! Rather than conceal it completely, he swallowed pride to bury the incident. The Namgung patriarch’s political skill exceeds norms.”
Yeon Wi nodded. The time for denial had passed—his son’s growth and discernment demanded recognition.
“Your thoughts?”
“Regarding?”
“We’ve yet to respond to their apology. How would you proceed?”
Yeon Ho-jeong shook his head.
“Why hesitate? Annoying as it is, dwelling on this wastes time.”
“Accept their apology?”
“Unless we can shake their patriarch himself, what choice remains? It’s framed as personal spite over sibling matters.”
“Does this not anger you?”
A dry chuckle escaped Yeon Ho-jeong.
“How many life-threatening situations must one face in the martial world? Accepting the apology elevates our house’s reputation. More practical.”
The rational judgment resonated. Yeon Ho-jeong had no interest in the Namgungs—mountains of work awaited.
Unaware of his son’s true thoughts, Yeon Wi felt both pride and guilt. Forgiving one’s would-be killer was no small feat for a youth. That his son could do so while considering the family’s future moved him deeply.
“Good. We’ll follow your approach.”
“Understood.”
Yeon Ho-jeong rose.
“With permission, I’ll take my leave to wash.”
“Go.”
As his son turned to depart, Yeon Wi called out unbidden.
“Ho-jeong.”
“Yes?”
Silence lingered until Yeon Ho-jeong’s neck nearly craned backward.
“You’ve endured well.”
A wry smile flashed.
“It was nothing.”
