Part 5 - Fragments of the Past
After the Eldest Young Master, Yeon Sang-hyeon, drove the servants out—the Steward's Office of the inner court, which bore full responsibility for everyone who could be called 'the lower one' was thrown into an uproar.
Arguments over where the blame lay, the problem of who should be newly assigned, even the decision on how to punish the servants who had been expelled by the Eldest Young Master—a fierce back-and-forth raged on.
In the end, the Steward's Office Chief—someone the Eldest Young Master himself had once pointed out—stepped forward.
Once he dismissed the meeting that had been dragging on, silence finally returned to the conference room.
"Whew...."
At the long conference table.
Everyone had left their seats, yet the middle-aged Steward's Office Chief, seated at the highest place of honor, was clutching his head of thick, white-streaked hair.
"I knew something like this would happen eventually, but..."
At Wongakjeong, the Eldest Young Master's residence, there was no one to manage the lower one.
And under an Eldest Young Master known for a gentle temperament—how could the Steward's Office Chief of the grand Luoyang Sword Clan not have known that the lower one would cross the line someday?
"At least, it's fortunate that the Eldest Young Master didn't accuse the servants of defiance or report them...."
If he had, it wouldn't have ended as a mere Steward's Office problem; he could practically see the entire Sword Clan being thrown into chaos.
"...Ugh."
By habit, he reached into a drawer and chewed on dried medicinal herbs said to be good for a burning stomach.
The main house of the Luoyang Sword Clan was a place where dozens of people—each important enough to 'leave their mark' across this vast Central Plains—came and went every single day.
In such a place, commanding and controlling the lower one was bound to make one's stomach burn. But lately, it had gone beyond normal.
All of it stemmed from the Luoyang Sword Clan's 'succession problem'.
Even after chewing and swallowing more than the recommended amount, the pain did not ease.
"...In the end, the time when we could simply watch and remain unscathed has passed."
His complexion steadied, and his eyes shone sharply.
After calming his mind, the Steward's Office Chief summoned a maid and whispered instructions into her ear.
When the maid bowed deeply and withdrew, he turned away—and sank back into deep thought.
***
A short while later, in his own office, the Steward's Office Chief welcomed a single maid with a warm smile.
"Steward's Office Chief, this lowly one, Jeong-a, pays her respects."
"You've come."
The woman called Jeong-a was no more than a maid, yet her beauty was remarkable.
The instant she stepped into the room, it felt as though the interior brightened.
Her long hair, dark as ebony, was neatly tied back, and her flawless white skin seemed to gleam.
Thick lashes made her large, clear eyes stand out all the more; her nose was small yet proud, and her lips—tinted lightly with rouge—were full.
Yet instead of looking seductive, those full lips held a composed smile.
"Have you been well, all this time?"
More than anything, what drew the eye were her irises.
So pale they seemed not merely brown but almost gold—golden eyes.
Combined with her beauty, they lent her an exotic, mysterious charm.
And yet her gaze was deep, making it impossible for anyone to treat her as a frivolous woman.
"How could someone in my position hope to live without trouble? Still, I've managed to keep my health."
"Anyone would say health comes first. This lowly girl's heart feels lighter, seeing that you are well, Elder."
Jeong-a bowed deeply, her manner impeccable—proper to an inferior.
But even such etiquette could not conceal the graceful dignity she carried.
Even dressed in a maid's uniform, her beauty did not dim in the slightest.
The Steward's Office Chief smiled, pleased.
Jeong-a was a child he had once taken in with his own hands from the streets.
And now, since he had no children of his own, she had become someone precious—like blood family.
"...Jeong-a."
"Yes, Elder."
Jeong-a found it strange that the Steward's Office Chief, having called her here, could not easily bring himself to speak his true purpose.
If a high-ranking official of the Luoyang Sword Clan could not speak of it readily, it could not be a trivial matter.
So she sat quietly, eyes lowered, and waited until he chose to begin.
"...Hah."
The Steward's Office Chief let out a deep sigh at the sight.
Was the decision he meant to make truly the right one?
No matter how he turned it over, he could not see the outcome.
"...This year, how old are you?"
"I am twenty-one this year."
A woman in the prime of her youth.
"Do you know why, despite valuing you so dearly, I kept you only in the Reception Hall and did not find you a master?"
"This lowly girl is dull and cannot know your profound intent, Elder."
In truth, she could guess what lay in his heart.
But she had been trained to close her eyes, close her ears, and close her mouth regarding the affairs inside the Luoyang Sword Clan—so she avoided giving a direct answer.
Reading her thoughts, the Steward's Office Chief was satisfied.
"I treated you like a daughter. That is why I was cautious—more cautious still—in choosing your master."
"This lowly girl is always grateful for your deep care."
Jeong-a bowed deeply, gratitude in her heart.
But instead of receiving her thanks, the Steward's Office Chief called her closer.
And instead of speaking, he lifted a brush and began to write his intent.
He had already given strict orders that no one approach his office, but he was a man seasoned through long years in service.
In the heart of the Luoyang Sword Clan, where experts overflowed, speaking in a small voice was never truly a secret conversation.
'The Second Young Master is suited to be the ruler of a sect, but he is excessively clear in calculating gains and losses, and his temperament is cold and ruthless.'
The chief paused, then checked their surroundings once more.
'The Third Young Master's martial arts are outstanding, and many martial men follow him. But his nature is violent and his greed is great—he is dangerous. The Fourth Young Master is, at least, the most decent as a person, but he is too young and has too few followers yet. He is far from fit for the seat of Little Clan Lord.'
Jeong-a flinched in shock at what he was writing in a swift, flowing hand.
He had served the Luoyang Sword Clan with loyalty alone for many years.
If words judging the young masters leaked out at such a sensitive time, it would be a calamity.
Even seeing her startled expression, the chief did not stop.
'The young ladies of the main house are all of good disposition. But their maids fall under the inner court chief administrator's jurisdiction. They select them personally, after choosing and choosing again from among the children they themselves have raised. Even if I wished to recommend someone, there is nothing I can do.'
Near the daughters of a great family, management had to be thorough—like bleaching away every impurity.
The Steward's Office Chief moistened his drying lips with cold tea.
'Naturally, I was not even considering the Eldest Young Master. That person is presently in seclusion.'
Up to that point, the brush moved without hesitation—then stopped.
After letting the silence linger, the Steward's Office Chief bit his lip, and his brush began moving again.
'Do you know why the Eldest Young Master is called Swordless?'
Jeong-a carefully took up another brush.
'First, because the Eldest Young Master does not hold a sword, and he has no talent for martial arts, and...'
Second—because he had never shown the qualities befitting the next clan lord.
And hadn't he been in seclusion for nearly ten years now?
There were other rumors as well, but none seemed truly credible to her.
When she set her brush down, the Steward's Office Chief lifted his.
'As an answer to that, I will now tell you a hidden story.'
His fingertips began to tremble, and his writing grew faster.
'This is a tale from more than ten years ago.'
It was clearly a story that must not leak out—far more than anything he had written before.
Jeong-a focused even harder, tracking the tip of his brush.
'Most of the main house believes the Eldest Young Master had no talent for martial arts and has never held a sword—but that is not true.'
"...!"
Without thinking, Jeong-a's lips parted slightly.
'I was there on the day the Eldest Young Master first held a sword.'
He continued the hidden story of that day.
'I still cannot forget it. The moment he first took the sword in hand and assumed the starting stance.'
He wet his cracked lips with cold tea.
Jeong-a waited, tense, for his brush to move again.
'That posture… that was already the posture of a swordsman who had reached a realm—of a Sword Hero. From the aura he gave off, I could not even breathe.'
"...!"
A Sword Hero—an expert swordsman.
A term used for one who had built an entire house by the sword.
Not the shallow talk of busybodies counting 'how many cycles' of inner energy.
It was a realm: transcending intent and form with the sword, and building a world of one's own.
And yet—he called a child holding a sword for the first time a Sword Hero?
'I was ordered by the clan lord at the time—meaning the current Retired Supreme Clan Lord—to keep that matter secret. For some reason, after that, even the Eldest Young Master himself never again held a sword.'
"...?!"
It was beyond what Jeong-a could imagine.
'And second.'
A rebuttal to the judgment that he had never shown himself fit to be the next clan lord.
'Until the Eldest Young Master entered seclusion, the people the clan lord relied on most feared one person above all—the Eldest Young Master.'
Jeong-a felt as if thunder and lightning were crashing inside her head.
'He did not carry out many matters in his own name, so now only a very few remember—but.'
The brush moved without rest.
'Even now, there are those who remember his name as far as the Imperial Palace.'
What could the Eldest Young Master, who had been only a child then, have done for his name to reach even the Imperial Palace?
Jeong-a steadied her confusion and raised her brush.
'Why are you telling me this?'
In the family's current state, it was a story that must not leak outside.
The Steward's Office Chief let out a great sigh.
'The Second Young Master and the Third Young Master are now demanding in earnest that you be handed over. It seems the two have entered open competition.'
"...Ah."
Jeong-a had always been counted as 'one flower' among the reception maids, drawing the attention of every visitor.
So much so that there had been a ridiculous incident where even a direct descendant of a great family fell for her and proposed marriage.
Even then it had been a major matter.
But for the two men most watched as the next Little Clan Lord to compete over her was on a different level entirely.
After a moment of stunned silence, Jeong-a bit her lip and lifted her brush.
'Do you wish for me to go to the Eldest Young Master?'
No matter what the Eldest Young Master had once been like—would the Eldest Young Master of today truly protect her if she entered under his roof?
He was famed for gentleness. Against two younger brothers brimming with hunger for power?
Instead of answering, the Steward's Office Chief carefully wrote down, in detail, what had happened today at Wongakjeong, the Eldest Young Master's residence.
'Has the Eldest Young Master's temperament changed?'
The Steward's Office Chief started to nod, then shook his head.
'I do not know if 'changed' is the right word. If anything, I dare say that what happened suits the temperament he always had.'
'Then...?'
'Perhaps. Perhaps he has finally steeled his heart.'
It was judgment worthy of the Steward's Office Chief of the Luoyang Sword Clan, hailed as the number one family in the Central Plains.
'And if he is the Eldest Young Master I remember...'
His eyes flashed.
'...then the Sword Clan's succession structure will surely change greatly.'
The Steward's Office Chief stared at Jeong-a's face for a moment, then bit his lip.
Her beauty had bloomed into maturity, yet in his eyes she was still only the little girl he had once found adorable.
'The decision is yours. But.'
The chief set down his brush and looked at Jeong-a.
Jeong-a, too, lifted her head and met his gaze.
Her eyes were so pretty that no one could easily find fault with them.
And in the depths of those irises—reminiscent of golden eyes—rested her own secret, known only to the Steward's Office Chief and to Jeong-a herself.
'With those eyes of yours, you will be able to judge faster than anyone whether the Eldest Young Master has truly changed his resolve.'
The brush was laid upon the inkstone.
The office filled with silence.
He gathered every sheet used in their brush-written exchange and, slowly, carefully, fed each page into the brazier.
***
A short while later, the maid who left the Steward's Office Chief's office hurried off somewhere.
Toward her new residence.