Chapter 1 - Childhood Friend of the Zenith

Young Master of the Nine Families. 1 What on earth is happening here? How should I even comprehend this situation.... I found myself in the middle of a bustling marketplace. Slowly lifting my head, I gazed up at the sky. The sun blazed down from a cloudless sky, causing my eyes to squint instinctively. It had been a long time since I last saw the sun, and its brightness was nearly blinding. Crowds bustled by, and numerous street vendors caught my eye. Somewhere, the scent of freshly steamed dumplings filled the air, the steam rising in wisps. The voices of merchants peddling their wares mingled with the sounds of cheerful onlookers, creating a lively cacophony louder than any individual voice. It was just like the market from my childhood in a distant past. How long has it been since I last saw such a lively marketplace? Perhaps it had been almost a decade since I'd seen such a sight. "Is this a dream?" I had certainly died, my heart bursting. Then what was this situation? Was it a brief vision post-death? Had I subconsciously longed for such peaceful days from my past? Maybe because my life was so miserable, I yearned for something so mundane. "Ridiculous." I was startled by the words that escaped my lips. Since my throat had been injured, it was no wonder I couldn't speak. Yet, the mere act of speaking wasn't the only surprise. The voice was thin and high, like that of a young boy. I observed my flawless, pale hand just then. It was frail and slender, nothing like an adult male’s hand. My perspective felt at least a handspan lower than usual. I was undoubtedly in the body of a child. "Is this a memory from my youth?" If so, when might it have been? There were hardly any times I ventured freely into the market. As I glanced around, a young man looking around anxiously caught my attention. If my memory served correctly, that person was supposed to be my guard. And indeed, it was when I had first sneaked out like this that I met that child. Wandering aimlessly through the market, we happened upon each other by chance. While walking, there was once a child who excitedly greeted me, a fellow of the same age, despite never having seen me before. Somehow, with a basket larger than his head, filled to the brim with warm potatoes, he pushed it towards me. "Want a potato?" Just like that now. "Huh?" Without realizing it, someone was now speaking to me. How amusing, even this situation was being reenacted. What did I say back then? "Do you know who I am, to dare offer me such a thing!" That was probably what I had replied. Or maybe I had said something even harsher. Whether it was the child's shabby clothes or the potatoes that I didn't like, I couldn’t be sure. Truthfully, I was just immature and ill-mannered. What more excuse was needed? If only I had known who that child was back then, if only I had known the future, would I have acted differently? I wasn’t certain. I was that reckless and immature. "Uh… do you... not like potatoes?" The child hesitated, watching my non-response with concern. His clothes were caked in dirt as if he had been rolling around somewhere. Furthermore, his neglected, overgrown hair completely obscured his face. At a glance, one might mistake him for a child from an impoverished background. Seeing him like that, I couldn't help but smile wryly. "To think I’d be shown such a scene... I must have a lot of regrets." "Hmm?" The child tilted his head at my mumbled self-talk. Could such a vision truly erase a single regret of mine? 'Not likely.' Nevertheless, I took a potato from the basket held by the child. Seeing me take one, the child beamed a bright smile. There was a conspicuous gap where a front tooth should be. Watching him smile, I spoke, "Thanks, I’ll enjoy this." It was certainly a different response from what I remembered in my past. “Yes…! My grandpa dug that one up himself!” With lively words, he took out a potato from his basket and bit into it heartily. I too followed his lead and took a big bite of the potato. The problem was that it was steaming hot, far too hot. The sensation was oddly jarring. ‘Is it possible to feel heat in a dream?’ How could that be? Or was this an exceptionally vivid dream? Meanwhile, I was in a predicament as the potato was too hot to handle. "Haha! Your face is turning red!" Finding my struggle amusing, the child laughed again. Though the potato he was eating surely had to be hot too, he somehow ate it without any issue. After much floundering, I managed to swallow the entire potato, enduring the searing pain. "Tastes good, right?" "Yeah… it’s tasty." It wasn’t a lie. The potato was indeed delicious. Though I couldn't fathom why I could taste it in a dream, the potato was inexplicably tasty. As I diligently consumed the remaining potato, the young man who appeared to be my guard approached from a distance. "Young Master…?" As he neared, he frowned upon seeing the child before me. Soon after, his left hand naturally rested on the hilt of his sword. "Who dares to lay hands on…?" "Do you have yakgwa?" "Pardon?" "Do you have yakgwa?" When I interrupted, he looked perplexed. Asking a guard if he had yakgwa out of the blue? Astonishingly, he did. With a hesitant expression, my guard retrieved a wrapped yakgwa from inside his jacket and handed it to me. "Would you like this?" I extended the yakgwa, given to me by the guard, to the child. Although his expression was hidden by his overgrown hair, I could sense his surprise. "R-Really? Is it for me!?" "You gave me such delicious potatoes, and this is all I have to offer in return." In my childhood, I had a penchant for sweets. Even my guard, when trying to calm me down, would often put yakgwa in my mouth to appease me. To think he had to carry sweets while on duty... he must have felt such frustration and despair at learning martial arts only to end up like this. "Reflecting on it now, I owe him a lot for putting up with me." Unaware of my thoughts, the child eagerly accepted the yakgwa and began hopping around. Each energetic leap made me worried that the potatoes might tumble out of his embrace. "Thank you! I've never tasted anything like this before!" "Really? Do we have any more yakgwa?" "...That's the last one." I had considered giving him more but, unfortunately, it was the final piece. My behavior seemed unexpectedly strange, as my guard looked at me wide-eyed. "Why do you stare like that?" "Nothing, Sir." The child had already placed his basket on the ground and carefully bit into the yakgwa, holding it snugly to avoid dropping it. With each bite, his small shoulders heaved with delight. "It's so… delicious..." "I'm sorry, I'd give you more if I could, but that was the last one." At my words, he shook his head vigorously. Was he assuring me it was okay, or was he just disappointed? He was a child who devoured a potato the size of a grown man's fist in the blink of an eye, so it didn’t take long before the yakgwa vanished with just a few bites. He seemed to be teary-eyed over its absence. "I've never eaten anything like this before..." "I'm glad to hear you enjoyed it." Picking up his basket again, he went back to eating the potatoes, though his face no longer bore the same satisfaction. Had he grown fond of the sweetness already? The child fidgeted a bit before asking, "Thank you. What's your name?" Unlike when he offered me the large potato, he now appeared rather bashful. Was asking for someone's name more embarrassing for him? "Gu Yangcheon, my name is Gu Yangcheon." I enunciated my name clearly. It was a phrase I hadn’t uttered for a long time. "Gu Yangcheon..." The child smiled shyly upon hearing my name. Just as he was about to say something more with his mumbling lips, a sudden commotion broke through the crowd as an old man emerged, wrapping the child in his arms. "Wiya!" "Oh, Grandpa!" "Didn't Grandpa tell you not to wander off alone!" With what should have been fear, surprisingly, the child nestled deeper into the embrace of the old man and, instead of receiving a scolding, flashed him a bright smile. "Wiya is okay! I even kept the potatoes safe!" He proudly showed the old man his basket. Despite the steaming potatoes, the old man looked at me with eyes full of apprehension as he held the child. It seemed my clean attire, ill-suited for the market, might have stirred concern that his grandchild had offended the child of a noble household. The old man's voice trembled slightly as he spoke, "My granddaughter is unaware of the ways of the world yet... I hope her actions didn't cause you any annoyance..." I knew all too well that the old man’s shabby appearance and the careful demeanor he adopted around those who hadn’t even reached his chest, all this was an act. That old man was a true master, whom even the current leader of the Martial Alliance couldn’t lightly dismiss, and stood as a sky above countless martial artists. "It's quite alright, sir. I happened to be hungry, and your granddaughter kindly offered me potatoes, which I enjoyed greatly." Perhaps my adult-like tone surprised him, as the old man looked at me with an astonished gaze. In hindsight, I might have overdone it, but what matters in a dream? "I regret I had only a humble yakgwa to give in return. It pales compared to what I received, and for that, I'm truly sorry." I clasped my hands respectfully as I spoke. The old man remained silent, observing me with newly earnest eyes. Did I not meet his expectations somehow? Amid the bustling marketplace, a moment of quiet tension descended between us. Breaking the silence was none other than my guard, who finally spoke up. "...Young Master, it's time for us to return." Although my guard's voice was calm, he seemed restless, unable to grasp the situation fully. Responding to him, I slowly straightened. "Already?" "Yes, if we delay any longer, we'll only arrive after sunset." "Alright, then we should head back." Turning back to the old man, I found his gaze had reverted to that simple, unassuming look. "Sir, I must take my leave now." As I said my farewell, the old man seemed ready to say something, but the child's voice came first. "You're leaving already...?" Looking as if disheartened, the child nestled in the old man's arms shot me a longing look, but this felt like the appropriate place to end it. Tales of a past I had tried to embellish, stories filled with regret that I sometimes recalled, ended precisely here. 'It's time to wake from this dream.' This was enough. If one were to ask what had changed, I would have to say nothing. If asked whether my heart felt lighter, the answer would be no different, but this, too, was sufficient. Concealing how I truly felt, I smiled at the child and said, "Let's meet again next time, and I'll remind you once more, your potatoes were truly delicious." I waved lightly, and the child responded with a beaming smile, stretching out both arms enthusiastically. The old man kept bowing his head, apologizing repeatedly, which was far more intimidating to me given what I knew. After persisting with his apologies, the old man finally picked up the child in his arms and disappeared into the throng of people. "That was quite unnerving." The old man’s name was Wi Hyo-gun. He was a symbol of the righteous faction, the very one who drove a sword into the heart of the Black Dragon Sword that sought to unite the heretical factions and conquer Sichuan. He once sat as the leader of the Martial Alliance, instilling fear and terror among the Sapa until about a dozen years ago. He was also known as the Sword Master (Geomjon). He vanished from the martial world upon relinquishing his position as the head of the Martial Alliance. Why he was now in such a shabby state, raising a child in this place, I couldn't fathom. No one would suspect such a scruffy old man to be one of the Three Supremes. I stared at the spot where the old man disappeared for quite a while before turning away at my guard’s urging. But his identity wasn’t the main concern. What lingered in my mind was the girl who waved at me energetically from the Sword Master’s arms. Her shy smile as she offered her potatoes, and the way she seemed to be overjoyed with just one piece of yakgwa— That was a far cry from the fierce gaze she carried as she cut down demons and eventually beheaded the Heavenly Demon. Shin Geom Wi Seol-ah. She was none other than the child from before. That was the first time I met Wi Seol-ah. Though in my memory, we hadn’t parted on such good terms. In the past, I had hurled harsh words while tossing the basket of potatoes aside. I had cruelly walked away, laughing as the young Wi Seol-ah shed tears, wounded by my actions. It was too mean-spirited, even for childish immaturity. "...I should be going too." It made me wonder why I kept seeing this right up until the moment of my death. Not that I left it contentedly self-justified; I had no lingering regrets. I couldn’t be completely sure, but I felt it should have been that way. "Yes, you ought to return." My guard’s reply drew a wry smile from me. He seemed to think I meant going home. In truth, I barely remembered where home even was. 'And why am I not waking up?' Having seen and done all there was, I should awaken from this dream or illusion already, right? It felt unbearably prolonged. "Young Master? You shouldn’t go that way." Pursuing my hazy memories, I kept veering off on the wrong paths. Each time, my guard corrected me, guiding us back homeward. ‘Well, who knows. It should end shortly.’ I resented this endlessly lingering dream, having mentally prepared for its conclusion, but there wasn’t much else to do. Helplessly, I surrendered to the flow, assuming it would end soon enough. It wasn’t until several days later that it finally dawned on me. "...Why the hell won’t this end?" The realization hit me that this situation wasn’t a dream after all.