Chapter 27

“Uh… sorry.”

The awkward silence left behind by the abruptly ended sparring match was palpable.

The sense of closeness that had come from sharing martial arts, the satisfaction and exhilaration from reaching new heights in their skills—all of it felt meaningless now.

Both of them were acutely aware of the true meaning behind the phrase, “Everything depends on how it ends.”

“It seems the Thunder Qi I left in your body reacted to my internal energy. I should have mentioned it earlier…”

“Ah, no, it’s not your fault at all… It was my mistake for not dispersing the Thunder Qi and for recklessly drawing it out.”

Paeng Ha-ryeong had no intention of becoming shameless or ungrateful.

Even though she had been embarrassed in a way unbecoming of a lady, it wasn’t Namgung Woo’s fault—it was her own.

“On the contrary, I should be thanking you. I’ve received yet another favor from you.”

“Favor? There’s no need to talk about favors or debts when it comes to sparring.”

“Heh, as expected of you, Sir Namgung. Most people would immediately claim they’ve done you a favor. Oh, I keep forgetting to mention something.”

“What is it?”

“That thing. The way you speak.”

At Paeng Ha-ryeong’s remark, Namgung Woo narrowed his eyes in confusion. Finding his expression amusing, Paeng Ha-ryeong giggled.

“The favor I’ve received from you is by no means small, so it feels awkward to hear you speak so formally. Please, feel free to speak more casually.”

“Your age?”

“Age” was a term used to respectfully inquire about a young man’s years.

Though it was an archaic term rarely used in modern times, for Namgung Woo—a lover of hanbok, a man consumed by his persona, a man born in the wrong era, and a close friend of Namgung Pung—it was a word that had become second nature.

“I’m 24. Just a year younger than you, right?”

Seeing Paeng Ha-ryeong trying to put on a mature smile, claiming to be older, Namgung Woo felt a slight pang of guilt.

He was actually 26, but he had shaved off a few years due to his changed appearance. Initially, it was to avoid unnecessary suspicion, but if he had known it would come to this, he would never have done so.

Above all, being treated like a younger brother by Paeng Ha-ryeong, who was two years his junior, was a bit much for his pride as a man.

“I’m actually 26.”

“Hmm?”

“It’s true.”

Paeng Ha-ryeong squinted at him with a skeptical look, but Namgung Woo met her gaze confidently.

“Everyone has their own story. It’s better this way. You’ll feel more comfortable speaking casually now.”

“Then let’s both speak casually…”

“That won’t do.”

Paeng Ha-ryeong firmly rejected Namgung Woo’s compromise.

“You are you. How could I possibly speak informally to you?”

She wasn’t backing down.

Paeng Ha-ryeong’s intensity was on par with, if not greater than, during their sparring.

“…Alright.”

When Namgung Woo reluctantly agreed to drop the formalities, Paeng Ha-ryeong smiled contentedly and nodded.

“That’s much better.”

Yes, it really was.

It wasn’t just that he had dropped the formalities—the conversation itself felt good.

Paeng Ha-ryeong no longer found it difficult to talk to Namgung Woo. It felt as natural as talking to her family.

The invisible walls she had built around herself—due to their similar age, the opposite gender, and the debt of gratitude—had crumbled after their sparring. Or perhaps it was because of the embarrassing display at the end.

Whatever the reason, Paeng Ha-ryeong no longer needed to muster courage to speak to Namgung Woo. The conversation flowed naturally, like a gentle stream, without her having to overthink it.

In one corner of the courtyard stood a large tree stump. It seemed too big and costly to uproot entirely, so it had been left there and repurposed as a resting spot in the yard.

For the two of them, who were in an awkward position between the annex and the inn, it became the perfect place to sit and talk.

“I see. I should have focused more on the flow of energy back then. I couldn’t fully control the power of the opened meridians.”

As expected, the easiest topic of conversation was martial arts.

They reviewed their recent sparring, discussing what had gone well and where they had fallen short. Namgung Woo, despite his lack of real combat experience, had enough knowledge of martial arts and the insights from his Azure Tranquility Eyes to compensate.

Once the review of the sparring ended, the conversation lulled for a moment.

Namgung Woo was pondering whether to bring up another topic or suggest they head inside since it was getting late when Paeng Ha-ryeong asked,

“Why did you form the Wanderers’ Group?”

“Why, you ask.”

“There must be another purpose behind creating the Wanderers’ Group, right? Someone of your skill would be highly respected anywhere. I was just curious why you chose to form a group like this.”

At her question, Namgung Woo recalled the night he had spent talking with the Yang Brothers.

Initially, Namgung Woo had planned to wander this world alone. To him, this world was one he would leave behind once he found a way to return. The joy he had discovered in martial arts during his duel with Hwang Moo-tak and his acceptance of his current situation were separate matters.

Denying this world entirely or accepting it as a temporary dwelling made a world of difference. It was through this acceptance that Namgung Woo had managed to partially restore the balance of his body, mind, and spirit.

So, had he distanced himself from forming connections because he would eventually leave? That was part of it, but there was another reason.

From Song Chaeji, he had learned about the Namgung Family’s legacy. Though it had nothing to do with him, as long as he held onto the Namgung name and his martial arts, it would inevitably follow him like a label.

Thus, Namgung Woo had tried to avoid forming unnecessary bonds to spare himself the sorrow of inevitable farewells and hardships. Even when Song Chaeji had suggested he stay at the Song Family estate if he wished, he had declined and sought out the Yopyeong Escort Agency for this very reason.

But that mindset had changed. The Yang Brothers had shown him their utmost sincerity, laying everything bare. In response, Namgung Woo felt he couldn’t simply push them away.

Having accepted the world and its people, the next step was to find a place to put down roots.

The Namgung Family was gone, and neither the Yang Brothers nor Namgung Woo had a school to call their own. There was only one option left.

Namgung Woo decided to create his own place.

“I wanted to create a place for myself.”

“A place for yourself?”

Paeng Ha-ryeong’s eyes widened in surprise at his unexpected answer.

She had assumed that Namgung Woo, unlike ordinary wanderers, had a more noble goal.

For example, something like dismantling the Ghost Gate, which plunged the common people into misery.

“Yes. And I needed something immediately.”

“Ah… I see. If there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask. My uncle and I will do everything we can to help.”

Though Paeng Ha-ryeong spoke confidently, it felt a bit awkward to reduce the Hapbuk Paeng Family to just her and her uncle, so she added in a softer tone,

“It’s just… I haven’t spoken to the family head yet. But I’m sure he would treat you as a benefactor of the family if he knew of your help!”

“You’ve been waiting in Beijing without contacting the main family?”

“Ah, I did send word, but the family head is currently away. My older brother is acting as the interim head.”

Paeng Ha-ryeong thought of her father, who was far away from Hapbuk.

The heads of prestigious families were usually burdened with responsibilities and rarely left their estates. When they did, it was with great preparation and an entourage befitting their status.

But the Paeng Family was different. They moved lightly, with only a few attendants, avoiding unnecessary formalities and focusing on practicality. It was a sign of how desperate the Paeng Family was.

Even Paeng Ha-ryeong, a direct descendant, traveled without a proper entourage.

“Sir Namgung, would you like to hear my story?”

§

Namgung Woo listened quietly to Paeng Ha-ryeong’s story.

What flowed from her lips was a secret history of the Hapbuk Paeng Family.

It wasn’t something they actively hid or concealed, but it wasn’t a story anyone would casually bring up.

Paeng Ye-ryeong, the youngest daughter of the family head and Paeng Ha-ryeong’s younger sister, had been born with a weak constitution. She was what people called a “seven-month baby.”

But if it were just that, they could have strengthened her body with the resources of a prestigious family like the Paengs. She might not have become a great martial artist, but at least she wouldn’t have to worry about life and death like ordinary seven-month babies.

However, Paeng Ye-ryeong was special.

“Ye-ryeong was born with her Upper Dantian unsealed.”

“Isn’t that normal for babies?”

The Upper Dantian being open.

For martial artists, this expression refers to the state where the Governing and Conception Vessels are connected, allowing the true qi to gather at the Upper Dantian’s Baihui Acupoint and communicate with the universe. But for newborns, it’s slightly different.

Newborns are literally born with their heads open—the large and small fontanelles. Babies have soft spots on their heads because their skulls aren’t fully formed, leaving gaps known as the large and small fontanelles.

However, these gaps usually close by around 18 months. Moreover, since babies’ bodies and minds are still developing, even if their Upper Dantian is open, they can’t retain the energy they absorb, making it meaningless.

Namgung Woo didn’t know the detailed mechanics, but he was aware that the Upper Dantian was open in babies, thanks to the martial arts knowledge forcibly engraved in his mind.

“That’s right. But Ye-ryeong’s Upper Dantian never closed.”