Vol 1 Chapter 3 – Peony Blossom Part 4

Seunghan knew Kang Oh was far too rigid to ever unravel something like romantic feelings. In his view, the third disciple was the type to spend his whole life tending to trees and polishing swords until he died. Yuun, despite Kang Oh’s consistent demeanor, still seemed uneasy about Jinrang’s favoritism and kept a close eye on the youngest disciple…

The alcohol was hitting Kang Oh faster than usual. That was why he ended up walking around, picking flowers himself instead of heading back empty-handed. When he saw the peonies, Woo came to mind. Strangely, he just couldn’t shake the thoughts of him.

A clear and undisturbed mind was a basic virtue for any martial artist. Yet Kang Oh’s sword would sometimes waver.

Whether it was because he was disappointed in his master for choosing such a lowly method of revenge, or because of the pity he felt toward Woo, he couldn’t be sure.

Feelings all tangled together couldn’t be cleanly separated and weighed on a scale.

Kang Oh focused on the peonies. Some caught his eye with their vibrant fullness, others with the delicate curve of their petals. The more he tried to picture which ones Woo would like, the more serious his expression became.

Yuun toyed with his wine cup, watching Kang Oh pick through the peonies. There was something strangely fitting about the scene. Kang Oh looked like he belonged among the flowers.

It reminded him of their master. No matter how many blossoms surrounded him, he never faded into the background. Their appearances were different, but something about their presence felt the same. It wasn’t just Yuun who noticed. Others in Heukcheon had quietly said the same. Kang Oh reminded them of Jinrang.

That was why he couldn’t afford to let his guard down. No matter how deep the bond between martial brothers, blood still ran thicker than water. At least, that was how it worked in Moyong Yuun’s world. If Jinrang ever turned his heart, he had to be ready for the day Jinrang might want to leave everything to Kang Oh.

Jinrang looked on fondly as Yuun downed his wine in long, clean gulps.

“You’ve really grown since that day.”

“It was all thanks to Master for saving my life and taking me in. Without Master, I wouldn’t have even lived long enough to become someone useful.”

Yae Jinrang was the one who found him, a child trembling in the wreckage of the Moyong Clan after Hyeolgyo’s attack. He chose not to leave him behind and brought him back instead.

Taking responsibility for a life isn’t something you decide lightly.

Jinrang’s lips curved with a crooked smile as he recalled the voice of the man who once tried to stop him. His voice had been calm and upright, and gentle in a way that revealed more than words ever could. There was a time when that had meant something.

He raised his cup to hide his mouth. No matter how much he tried to bury it, the past returned with vivid clarity. Those lingering feelings no longer had a place to go. They turned into poison, something only he was left to swallow, again and again.

What was the point of standing at the peak of the demonic path? Even with power and influence second to none in the Central Plains Murim, he remained shackled to the past. To be born human was a cruel thing. There were too many burdens one couldn’t bear alone. And when loneliness pushed you to open your heart to others, betrayal was always the price.

No matter how much you trusted, no matter how much you loved…

To live alongside someone was to suffer.

“I’ll be going now.”

At the voice of the Lord of Heukcheon, even Kang Oh turned away from the flowers to look. But Yae Jinrang had already risen, intent on leaving.

The wine that passed his throat no longer tasted sweet. Even the finest aroma could be wiped away by a memory he wished he could forget.

“Go safely, Master.”

Yuun stood and gave a respectful fist-and-palm salute, well used to his master’s ever-shifting moods. Seunghan also set his wine cup down and raised a salute toward Jinrang. Jinrang walked past his disciples and made his way to where Kang Oh stood near the peonies. He gently ruffled the youngest disciple’s head as the boy offered his salute.

“We’ll meet again.”

Jinrang murmured quietly, then vanished without a trace. Having reached the heights of lightness skill, he left behind nothing but a faint breeze in his wake.

As Yuun and Seunghan returned to their seats and began exchanging drinks again, Kang Oh came to a stop in front of one particular peony.

“Bring the vessel.”

Kang Oh had finally made his choice. He gave the attendant an order. When the celadon porcelain bowl filled with water was brought to him, Kang Oh carefully plucked a single peony and placed it atop the surface. He trimmed the leaves with care. The flower, neat and well-shaped, showed the worth of his careful selection. It bloomed with rich color and quiet elegance.

Kang Oh seemed quite taken with the pale blue peony. He turned it this way and that, and made sure the petals wouldn’t soak too deeply into the water.

“Looks like the youngest disciple’s room is going to be a bit more cheerful for a while,” Seunghan said with a smile in his eyes.

Kang Oh didn’t respond. He didn’t need to tell them that he had chosen the flower so carefully just to place it in Woo’s quarters. Even though Yae Jinrang had left early, there was no way the conversation from today would escape his ears.

“Thank you for allowing me to take the peony.”

With the bowl in hand, Kang Oh gave Yuun a respectful fist-and-palm salute.

“Thanks to Senior Brother preparing such a fine setting, we had the pleasure of seeing our junior’s rare expression. To be so lost in a flower, of all things.”

Yuun quietly listened to Seunghan’s teasing praise, then smiled warmly.

“Since Master is still in good health, we should gather like this more often.”

He hadn’t meant a word of it. But from the look on Mo Yong Yuun’s face, it could not have appeared more sincere.

“Of course. The alcohol is starting to hit me, so I’d rather excuse myself before I embarrass anyone.”

“Go on, then.”

With a casual wave of the hand, Yuun gave Kang Oh permission to leave. Seeing that, Seunghan seemed to take it as his cue to speak as well.

“Then I’ll head back too. Oddly enough, I’m not in the mood to drink tonight.”

“Alright. Get some proper rest.”

In the end, Yuun was the only one left in Ilwondang. He refilled his cup with the Shaoxing wine Kang Oh had brought and quietly watched the backs of the two disciples as they left.

“Peonies…”

It wasn’t unusual for Kang Oh to appreciate flowers. But strangely, tonight he seemed different. Something didn’t feel right, though Yuun couldn’t quite say what it was.

Yuun’s darkened gaze remained fixed on the spot where Kang Oh had stood.

—

“Damn, Senior Brother’s still as intense as ever, huh?”

Seunghan joked lightly as they stepped out of Ilwondang. Kang Oh, still holding the porcelain bowl, responded quietly.

“I think he’s carrying a heavy weight in his heart.”

“There’s no one around to hear it, and still you’re defending him.”

Seunghan grumbled, and a faint smile tugged at Kang Oh’s lips.

“I follow Senior Brother, but I’ve always liked you too. You may be blunt, but you’re still our youngest.”

“Even now that I’m all grown up and a full-grown man, you still call me the youngest and find it cute. You’re really something.”

“Our Senior Brother probably doesn’t even know you can joke around like this. What a shame.”

“I believe… he will come to know it someday.”

Kang Oh answered with a faint smile. It was hard to tell whether he was joking or not. His gaze dropped to the porcelain bowl in his hands. The pale blue peony shimmered under the moonlight, its beauty soft and understated.

Would he like it if I quietly left it by his window?

“He won’t notice.”

At that moment, Seunghan’s low voice reached Kang Oh’s ear. When he looked up, he saw Seunghan wearing a surprisingly serious expression.

“Senior Brother will never notice. That’s why I worry about you. The way you keep slipping outside Heukcheon, the way you stay quiet and keep it all in… isn’t it all because you’re trying not to clash with him?”

After a brief pause, Seunghan finally spoke the thoughts he had been holding back.

“You should just fight him, properly. The reason this tension never resolves is because you two never even argue. If it all shattered once, maybe what comes after would be something healthier.”

Only someone like Seunghan, who had spent years caught between the two could say that.

Kang Oh understood what he meant. But he had no intention of confronting Yuun.

“Master wants the brothers to stay in harmony.”

He answered quietly.

“I owe him my life. I have to repay that somehow.”

“Master would never blame you.”

“I know.”

Kang Oh gently brushed his fingers over the peony’s petals as he added,

“That’s exactly why I can’t do it.”

He could not say for certain that he would win if he fought Yuun, but he also didn’t believe he would lose. Even so, the reason he held back and stayed one step removed, like an observer, was because of Yae Jinrang. Because his only wish was for his disciples to live in harmony.

And Kang Oh didn’t want to go against that.

Jinrang and Kang Oh had always approached each other in completely different ways. Their actions never aligned, but one always seemed to follow the other, like links in a chain.

Deep down, their feelings were identical, as if reflected in a mirror.

Just as Jinrang cherished Kang Oh, Kang Oh held reverence for him. More than anything, he didn’t want to become a burden to the man who had saved him. The Jinrang he knew wasn’t someone who would voice disappointment or reprimand a disciple, even if he felt it. Because of that, Kang Oh had no choice but to tread carefully.

“Master would accept whatever I choose to do.”

He had handed over the son of his enemy, the very one he hadn’t been able to kill and had kept alive. Jinrang raised Yuun as his successor, treated Seunghan like a stubborn friend, but Kang Oh… was different. He cherished him like a piece of art shaped from his own flesh and blood, crafted with care, and guarded even more tightly.

“To have the Lord of Heukcheon’s affection… isn’t that the greatest kind of power? That’s exactly why I have to be careful.”

Seunghan gave a bitter smile. Kang Oh might be blunt, but he had depth, and that much Seunghan knew. Still, even patience had its limits. And to Seunghan, it seemed Senior Brother had reached his.

“If that’s what you’ve decided, I won’t stop you. But be careful.”

“Master is healthy. Everything will be fine.”

“And after that?”

Kang Oh didn’t answer. He simply resumed walking, the dark porcelain bowl with the full-bloomed peony held close in his arms.

When Master’s time comes to an end, and Senior Brother becomes the next Lord of Heukcheon, will you leave then?

Seunghan swallowed the words he couldn’t bring himself to say and sighed in frustration.

—

After parting with Seunghan, Kang Oh returned straight to Heedowon.

As their young master arrived, the waiting attendants stepped forward to greet him. One of them extended a hand.

“Please, allow me.”

Kang Oh simply pulled the bowl closer to himself in response. He intended to carry it personally. Understanding his intent, the attendant respectfully stepped back.

Kang Oh had never liked being waited on. Fortunately, the people Master had placed in Heedowon were quick to pick up on things.

Above him, the moon had already begun to tilt slowly toward the early hours of dawn.

Holding the bowl himself, Kang Oh made his way naturally toward Woo’s quarters, but paused mid-step. The thought of giving the flower came so quickly, he almost let the name slip from his lips.

Kang Oh let out a quiet breath, then turned toward the outer edge of Heedowon. Seeing him suddenly head for the garden, one of the attendants looked puzzled but followed behind with a lantern. Kang Oh stopped abruptly and turned around.

“Go back.”

“But… it’s late. The grounds are dark.”

“I’m a martial artist. I don’t need a light.”

The attendant hesitated, but Kang Oh’s tone left no room for argument, and the servant withdrew. Once he was alone, Kang Oh moved forward in silence. Not wanting even the sound of his steps to carry, he activated his gyeonggong. Kang Oh had already reached the level of mastery where even stepping on grass would not bend a single blade. He had learned the most refined forms of gyeonggong from the Lord of Heukcheon, but what he now possessed moved beyond that. His movements were ghostlike in their silence.

He moved carefully toward the window of Woo’s quarters. This was exactly why he had sent the attendant away. Even their quiet presence might be noticed, and if the area outside the window brightened too suddenly, Woo might wake.

Kang Oh carefully opened the window. He placed the porcelain bowl, with the pale blue peony in bloom, right where Woo would be able to see it if he happened to wake. Though the bowl was heavy with water, he lowered it so gently that not even the faintest sound escaped.

He glanced toward Woo’s bed. It was still empty. The man had instead laid a blanket on the floor where the moonlight reached, breathing softly in his sleep. Kang Oh swallowed the words that had risen in his throat. He couldn’t wake someone just to speak. The window had been open too long, and a chill might set in, so he moved to close it.

“Told you not to come at night.”

Woo mumbled in his sleep. His eyes were still closed, but a faint smile lingered on his lips. Even after his rest had been disturbed, he didn’t frown or stir, and that alone felt strangely kind, like someone soothing a child.

“The wind’s picking up. Close the window and come here.”

Surprisingly, Woo didn’t slur his words at all. Still standing by the window, Kang Oh found himself unable to go in, yet unable to leave. He saw Woo rub at his eyes. The sight made Kang Oh’s chest tighten. If Woo truly woke now, he’d have no excuse. As if he were some kind of night thief, he finally slipped inside through the window.

After carefully closing the window to keep the cold air out, Kang Oh saw Woo curled tightly under the blanket. As he stepped closer, a faint smile appeared on Woo’s lips.

“Mm… mm…”

He was murmuring something, but the words were too soft to make out. Was he patting the spot beside him, telling him to lie down there? Kang Oh hesitated. He shifted a little but couldn’t bring himself to lie down. Instead, he sat at the edge of the bedding.

Then Woo’s hand suddenly reached out and grabbed his.

Kang Oh froze, just like the time he was summoned before Master and sat awkwardly, waiting to be scolded. His whole body stiffened with a jolt.

And then Woo whispered to him.

“Just for tonight… You need to learn how to sleep alone.”

Muttering in his sleep like that was one of Woo’s habits.

When Kang Oh had first been brought to Baekragung as a child, he couldn’t fall asleep on his own. During their journey, they had once shared a room at an inn, and perhaps because of that single night, it became habit. Every time he tried to sleep, Kang Oh would end up seeking Woo out.

Though he had become the Lord of Baekragung at a young age and was widely known for his strict and unyielding nature, Woo Hyo had always been soft when it came to that nameless boy. The child had never eaten properly, had never been taught, and clung to him like a fledgling to its mother. Woo couldn’t help but care.

It had only lasted for a season, yet for Woo, the warmth of that time remained vividly etched in memory. The faint breeze whenever the door opened, the presence of a child who hovered outside without stepping in. The wide, uncertain eyes, not knowing what to do even though he had come of his own accord. And when Woo finally gave in and told him to come closer, the boy would immediately crawl under the covers, bringing with him a quiet, undeniable warmth.

Woo hadn’t realized just how starved for affection he was until he met that young Kang Oh. What he told himself would be only one night became ten. Then a month. Then a hundred days.