-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: uly
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: The Power in People
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Silence fell over the room. The family head Yuk Mu-hyeok's piercing gaze lingered for a long while.
"Your father once said something similar to you. Whenever his brothers tormented him, he'd pay them back several times over. The way he strutted after beating them down..."
Yuk Jin-yang held his tongue rather than interrupt the family head's reminiscence with idle chatter. With a sigh, Yuk Mu-hyeok changed the subject.
"I've long known you never deceived your elders. If you had, I wouldn't have opened the Martial Valor Hall to you in the first place."
There had been such idle rumors circulating in some corners. Slander from jealous fools envious of his talent. Or perhaps smears from rival factions aiming to tarnish a potential competitor.
Yet he'd allowed those rumors to spread as a test for his grandson. To see how he'd react to malice.
Many possessed martial talent but lacked firm resolve. Such weaklings broke before their potential could bloom. It was a relief that his youngest grandson's temperament proved resilient.
At the same time, it eased his heart to see echoes of his son in the boy.
Yuk Mu-hyeok raised his arm, gesturing to the empty seat opposite him. No sooner had Yuk Jin-yang sat than a loaded question flew at him.
"Do you want me to make this judgment public?"
"I'm fine either way."
It was an immediate reply. His grandfather arched a brow in curiosity.
"Why?"
"The family head's..."
"Call me Grandfather here."
Last time it had been "Grandfather," but now... It seemed the form of address shifted with his grandfather's moods.
Yuk Jin-yang cleared his throat and explained.
"Even with Grandfather's protection, those who hate me will keep wagging their tongues behind my back."
"At least to your face, they'd hold them."
"Personal feelings don't matter. To win them over—or make them submit— I need to prove myself, not rely on Grandfather's shield."
A glint flashed in Yuk Mu-hyeok's eyes. He leaned forward slightly, his tone probing.
"Even those who hate you—you'd embrace them too?"
"Yes."
"Ambitious, aren't you."
His voice was calm, but his eyes smiled. Suddenly, he raised his arm and slowly stroked his grandson's head.
"That's why I know you're my blood. You've inherited my nature."
Yuk Jin-yang flushed but stayed silent. His grandfather took the quiet as something else.
"I know you're resentful. I've neglected your family all this time, so you must harbor some bitterness toward this old man."
"Not at all."
Yuk Jin-yang answered quickly. He couldn't very well affirm it and embarrass the family head.
Of course, Yuk Mu-hyeok didn't seem to buy the sincerity. He pressed on regardless.
"Affection can be built over time."
Warmth laced Yuk Mu-hyeok's words. A far cry from the cold demeanor on that Mid-Autumn Festival eve.
Why the change? Yuk Jin-yang pondered inwardly.
The biggest reason was surely his own aptitude.
Yuk Mu-hyeok valued the clan above all. With a promising talent emerging, ignoring it would have been impossible.
'Is that all?'
Yuk Jin-yang read regret in his grandfather's gaze. As if he were looking through him at someone else.
The family head was human too. Casting out his son couldn't have sat well. Unlike the siblings he'd vied with for the seat in his youth, this one wasn't a rival—easier to love.
Hadn't he already shown mercy once?
Cutting ties was simple: disown him from the clan. Instead, he'd granted them a house and exiled them gently. The Yuk Eon family had never harmed the clan. In the family head's eyes, that was benevolence.
So it wasn't strange if he projected his son onto his grandson. Self-satisfaction or atonement—who could say.
Yuk Jin-yang accepted his grandfather's shallow scheme with grace.
"Yes, Grandfather."
"Anyway, you've shown remarkable progress, so this old man will reward you."
As the saying went, adults handled rewards for their juniors' studies. It seemed he meant it.
Inwardly, Yuk Jin-yang craved spirit elixirs. With the Yuk Clan's influence, they could procure pills rivaling Shaolin's Great Return Pill or Huashan's Purple Core Pill. Such treasures were priceless, beyond mere gold.
'Patience for now.'
He tamped down his greed. Falling for empty promises would be foolish. This show of affection stemmed from seeing him as a mere child.
What could a fifteen-year-old want? A fine sword, pocket money, or perhaps a martial art.
No pressure, so no limits set.
But humans soured if kids asked too much. After a moment's thought, Yuk Jin-yang requested a reward to please his grandfather.
"I want people."
"People?"
Yuk Mu-hyeok's eyes widened in surprise. Especially after assigning Hwang Dal-pyeong last time.
Yuk Jin-yang nodded, offering an age-appropriate, innocent explanation.
"Uncle's away on a mission, so I need sparring partners. Flying Stream Pavilion only has servants."
"Sparring partners. How many?"
"The more, the better."
"Ha ha, I see."
Yuk Mu-hyeok stroked his grandson's hair. His undisguised delight shone through the gentle touch.
"Jin-yang."
"Yes, Grandfather."
"Do you know where a renowned clan's power comes from?"
Yuk Jin-yang stayed silent on purpose. It wasn't a question expecting an answer; his grandfather continued right away.
"People. Merchants chase gold, but lords and ministers spend it to gather talent. That's the difference in caliber."
"..."
"Connections spanning courts and rivers and lakes. Loyal retainers who tackle dirty work. Blood ties reaching every corner. That's the true strength of the Zhejiang Yuk Clan. A foundation to endure a millennium, even without this old man."
Yuk Jin-yang understood keenly. In his past life, he'd witnessed the clan's enduring might across generations.
"To me, it seems you need more than sparring partners—retainers to command at your side. What do you think?"
"But even if Grandfather assigns them, they won't truly be mine, will they?"
Yuk Jin-yang posed a pointed question. His grandfather nodded readily.
"You're right. You don't borrow people from others."
"Then?"
"You select and raise them yourself. Bind them with favors, and only then do they become your limbs."
Yuk Jin-yang gave a wry smile. It didn't feel like someone else's story. Hadn't Jang Un lived that way?
It wasn't limited to guests, either. Clans built ties with the court the same way.
Sponsor poor scholars, saddle them with debts called "gratitude." Once officials, they became staunch backers.
Yuk Mu-hyeok gazed fondly at his grandson before finally saying what he'd awaited.
"But this time, Grandfather will help."
He pulled the writing set closer. His brush flew across smooth paper, inscribing dozens of names.
Yuk Jin-yang asked.
"What are these?"
"Candidates for the Assignment Ceremony."
"Assignment Ceremony?"
He knew better than anyone, but played dumb. Setting down the brush, the family head stroked his beard proudly.
"You wouldn't know. Countless souls knock on the Yuk Clan Great Compound's gates from across the land—thousands."
Beggars didn't even reach the main gate. These were talents hawking their skills.
Impoverished scholars, ronin with tales, ex-military warriors. A family needed sturdy pillars to stand.
"They go through the Assignment Ceremony to join the halls and pavilions."
"You memorized all these names?"
Yuk Jin-yang widened his eyes. Even vetted talents numbered plenty.
"Jin-yang."
"Yes, Grandfather."
"Lord Xinling of the Warring States' Four Gentlemen memorized thousands of guests' names. If gathering talent demands it, is memorizing names so hard?"
"..."
"That's why scholars die for those who recognize them. And sometimes, a warm word or small kindness moves them more than sudden riches."
Leaning back comfortably, his grandfather added.
"One thing to remember: at the Assignment Ceremony, guests choose their affiliation."
Yuk Jin-yang's expression hardened.
Good birds don't perch on rotten branches.
People were no different. Talents flocked to promising groups. As is, no one would pick Flying Stream Pavilion.
Fortunately, his grandfather had considered even that.
"But this once, I'll grant you a privilege. This roster lists guests without assignments yet. Pick as many as you want."
Two privileges, really.
Choosing before the ceremony. And taking as many as desired.
Yuk Jin-yang scanned the list. Brief profiles beside names, marked upper, middle, lower.
He asked about the marks, feigning ignorance.
"What do these indicate?"
"Ratings from the Steward's Office. Can't take just anyone. We cull the useless, rank the rest by potential."
Those ratings applied only pre-assignment. Post-assignment, new classifications kicked in.
"Can I pick upper ranks?"
"If you want."
Yuk Mu-hyeok consented readily.
"But remember: warriors can switch affiliations later. They can leave for another master anytime."
White cranes don't nest anywhere.
Without boosting Flying Stream Pavilion's appeal, even prospects were worthless.
Would they truly pledge loyalty? They might become easy-bought enemies within.
Sweeping up stars would stir backlash too. His uncles would surely check the pavilion harder.
'Too soon.'
Yuk Jin-yang admitted it.
To hold talent, he needed proper foundations.
Flying Stream Pavilion wasn't a nest to satisfy prospects yet. They could abandon it anytime.
Luckily, no must-haves appeared. With lighter heart, he selected ten—all middle-lower and lower ranks.
His grandfather probed curiously.
"You sure you picked right? Retainers should at least match your level."
"The more desperate they are, the easier to bestow favors, no?"
The needier, the cheaper their loyalty sold. It echoed his grandfather's words. A full belly and hot soup outweighed gold in hard times.
And aid in tough days lingered long in memory.
"Quick on the uptake. But wasting favors on dregs won't help much."
"As the Analects say, 'Virtue never stands alone; it always has neighbors.'"
Yuk Mu-hyeok's lips curved. He'd read between the lines.
"You know the Analects too? Studied well, it seems. Keep at it. I expect great things."
"I won't disappoint."
"I'll send these tomorrow."
His grandfather waved him out.
As Yuk Jin-yang rose, bowed, and turned to leave, a parting words followed.
"Even for trifles. I'll have tea ready—visit often."
"I will."
A modest request from the rivers-and-lakes overlord.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The door closed. Yuk Mu-hyeok mulled his grandson's words as he summoned Choe Rim. He recounted the conversation.
Choe Rim clicked his tongue in admiration.
"Young Master Jin-yang seems sharper than I thought. 'Virtue never stands alone.' Train him more, and he could ace the provincial exams."
"He grasped the Moon Maiden Divine Art's essence. Of course his mind is keen. But today's talk revealed another side—like gaining a new grandson in my old age. Ever-changing."
Yuk Mu-hyeok leaned back, relaxing.
"Even you see he's no naive child, right?"
"Naive? He doesn't chase ideals—he knows how to use them. Rare talent."
Choe Rim grasped his lord's point instantly. Fitting for the family head's confidant.
"His worldly savvy surprised me. He knows his place. Nothing boosts reputation like caring for underlings."
"Rumors did swirl. So Gyun picked on him freely."
Choe Rim laughed awkwardly instead of answering. Yuk Mu-hyeok didn't press, just tsked and stared at the empty seat.
"I'd like time to gauge his character and gifts fully, but I'm worried there isn't any. I hope the others don't cross lines with foolish ambitions."
Choe Rim couldn't deny it. The family head's sons hadn't inherited his full talent, but their endless greed mirrored his. Especially that.
But the family head wasn't fretting their bullying. He dreaded having to draw his sword himself if things escalated.