My Father Is the Number One Under Heaven - Chapter 33

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 33. The Test
“Please withdraw your order.”
“What in the world are you talking about, all of a sudden?”
Peng Mugang’s brow furrowed deeply at Peng Seoyeon’s complaint, delivered the moment she had burst into the Main Hall of Family Head.
She had come rushing here directly after hearing something from her younger brother Peng Seojin.
Even as Peng Mugang narrowed his eyes, Peng Seoyeon showed no sign of backing down.
She was visibly different from her usual self. She fixed Peng Mugang with a steady gaze and pressed him.
“The order you gave to my husband through Seojin.”
“Sister!”
At that very moment, Peng Seojin also stepped into the Main Hall.
Yeo Unhwi was at his side.
“This hall is not a marketplace. Tch.”
Peng Mugang clicked his tongue. Then he turned to his daughter and spoke with finality.
“Let me be clear: I have no intention whatsoever of withdrawing the order I gave today. So stand down.”
“But Father! Surely there are things one should be asked to do and things one should not. Leading the Baekrang Squad?”
The Baekrang Squad.
In Habuk, all who heard that name shook their heads—such was the notorious reputation of this martial force belonging to the Peng Clan.
Yet the irony was that their infamy stemmed not from cruelty, but from their absolute inability to tolerate injustice whenever they witnessed it.
Was that not virtuous and admirable?
Indeed. One might argue their conduct exemplified the code of the Righteous Hero more than most.
The real problem lay solely in this: they truly could not bear to ignore wrongdoing, not for a moment.
Regardless of who the offender was or what the circumstances, they simply acted—drawing their blades without hesitation.
So whether the guilty belonged to orthodox or heterodox sects, whether they held official rank or were officials’ children, if the Baekrang Squad deemed them wicked, they unsheathed steel first and asked questions never.
Consequently, the Peng Clan had labored so hard to clean up after their exploits that three days and nights of storytelling would scarcely suffice to recount it all.
Yet whenever one tried to reproach them, they would simply declare—with perfect confidence—that they had merely done what was right and brought no shame to the Peng Clan’s name. Which left the Clan in an impossible predicament.
In essence, the Baekrang Squad would not readily obey any order from anyone, no matter their rank, if they did not themselves deem it just.
Had they not been of the Peng Clan, their heads would have rolled long ago.
Yet because none was more righteous in their convictions, the Clan could neither cast them out nor employ them with any ease—making them truly difficult to handle.
When the previous squad leader had still been alive, matters were not quite so severe.
But once he retired and left the Peng Clan, the problem had grown progressively worse, until it reached the present state.
In other words, this was not a recent grievance.
The family had agonized over this very issue even before Peng Seoyeon had left the Clan, which was precisely why she now opposed Peng Mugang’s decision so vehemently.
“Everyone in the Peng Clan knows that even experienced unit commanders flatly refuse the Baekrang Squad. And yet you’re ordering my husband—who knows nothing of Martial Arts—to take command of them?”
“He should earn his keep.”
“Pardon?”
“How much longer did you expect him to simply consume rice without contributing? If he is to live in the Peng Clan, he must earn his place.”
“Father!”
“I am not ordering him to go fight and brawl with them. I am ordering him to go lead them to work. Where is the issue in that?”
“But that’s—”
Peng Seoyeon swallowed the word—mere coercion—unspoken.
She feared that speaking further would push her into a misstep.
Yet she could not simply accept her father’s decision either.
“Yes. I understand.”
But at that moment, Yeo Unhwi, who had until now kept silent, stepped forward.
“Y-Yeo!”
Peng Seoyeon looked at him in surprise, and Yeo Unhwi met her gaze with a slight smile.
Then, as if to reassure her, he patted her shoulder gently.
And,
“I shall gladly do as you have instructed.”
He spoke to Peng Mugang with perfect composure.
“Hmm.”
Peng Mugang regarded Yeo Unhwi intently.
He had heard the man possessed considerable stamina.
In fact, he had heard the rumors about Yeo Unhwi’s Morning Running—that too.
There was nothing that circulated within the family that escaped his notice.
For he believed such awareness was part of his duty as the Family Head.
It was hardly common for an ordinary scholar to outrun warriors who had trained for years.
And so Peng Mugang had entertained a strong suspicion: could this Yeo Unhwi possibly be ‘that one’?
The scent he remembered was so very similar, after all.
Yet Peng Mugang soon concluded that his suspicion was mistaken.
Peng Mugang, who deliberately manufactured chances to run into him by feigning coincidence, studied Yeo Unhwi carefully each time.
But no matter how carefully he observed, Peng Mugang could discern nothing about Yeo Unhwi.
The fact that nothing was visible from Peng Mugang’s level of mastery meant that Yeo Unhwi truly had not learned Martial Arts.
Otherwise it would mean that Yeo Unhwi was an extraordinary master surpassing Peng Mugang himself—but that was a notion hardly worth entertaining.
There was no existence capable of such a thing before Peng Mugang save for the Within-Domain Twelve Supremes.
Which meant he truly was simply someone good at morning running, though perhaps he possessed better Martial Aptitude than expected.
But setting all that aside, the truth was that Peng Mugang had intended to test Yeo Unhwi through this matter.
To see precisely how he would handle his subordinates, whether he could handle them at all.
In other words, he meant to observe whether Yeo Unhwi was a man of use to the Peng Clan, or whether he was utterly useless as anticipated.
Of course, he knew.
That the Baekrang Squad was no easier place than any other.
But Peng Mugang believed the test would only have meaning that way.
Any task too easy for anyone to accomplish wouldn’t be worth testing at all.
The others would inevitably harbor prejudice in some form, simply because he was the family head’s daughter’s husband.
Perhaps the Baekrang Squad was uniquely suited to glimpse the true nature of Yeo Unhwi in pure form.
After all, it was a place gathering nothing but truly pure—if one could call them that—straightforward fools, stripped of all pretense.
How would it unfold?
Would he show an unsightly figure as expected? Or perhaps…?
Peng Mugang harbored more desire to make trouble for him than genuine anticipation.
So until Yeo Unhwi took command of the Baekrang Squad, three days were allotted.
***
“Ah, why in blazes is he acting like that? Frightening everyone.”
Beneath a sky of perfect clarity.
The Peng Clan’s Training Grounds rang today as always with the sounds of warriors drilling.
One squad of them had been training hard when they took a moment to rest in the shade.
As they drank water, wiped sweat, and sprawled about, one of them spotted someone standing at a distance, watching them, and jumped in alarm.
“Huh? You came again today?”
“What in the world is he plotting?”
“Surely he’s not asking to join morning running again?”
“Eek! Don’t even say such things! I was just starting to feel alive again, but if that ‘Morning Running Ghost’ attaches himself to us again, I won’t survive it!”
“No, that’s right. I never want to experience it again. Those hellish mornings… ugh! Just thinking about it makes me want to vomit!”
“I’m saying it might happen, that’s all.”
“Listen, words have power. If what you just said actually comes true, I swear you’ll die by my hand. I’m deadly serious, so mark my words. Got it?”
“Ugh. I definitely never want to do that kind of morning running again. Never.”
“Good grief. Understood. I got it.”
Noh Ilbong, who had carelessly brought up the subject of morning running only to be thoroughly scolded by his companions, smiled awkwardly and clicked his tongue.
At any rate, Yeo Unhwi was no longer called the “Scholar Fellow” within the Peng Clan—now he was known as the “Morning Running Ghost.”
Those hours spent with him must have been truly dreadful for such a nickname to take root.
The warriors trembled at mere thought of Yeo Unhwi now.
In a most peculiar way, Yeo Unhwi had been branded as terror incarnate in their minds.
“Anyway, I can’t figure out for the life of me why he’s been watching us train from afar these past few days.”
“Maybe he was restless cooped up indoors. Just ignore him completely.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. What’s the problem with just watching? Pay him no mind. Let’s not get tangled up like last time. Don’t even make eye contact. Everyone clear?”
“And Squad Leader, you especially be careful.”
“Hm? Ah. Of course! If I get involved with the Morning Running Ghost again, I’m finished. Ahem.”
Noh Ilbong nodded exaggeratedly while clearing his throat at the pointed remarks of the warriors.
Last time, he had foolishly stepped forward with intent to give Yeo Unhwi a proper beating, only to witness the true face of the Morning Running Ghost, after which he endured all manner of rebuke from above and below for quite some time.
Perhaps of anyone present here, he was the one most repulsed by the mere mention of Yeo Unhwi.
And how much time had passed.
“Well then, everyone, thank you for your hard work today.”
Today’s training session had come to an end.
So Noh Ilbong, whose spirits had flagged unlike before, rose slowly from his seat.
Soon the warriors dispersed, and the squad leaders too began heading back to their quarters for a brief rest.
Tap.
Someone placed a hand on his shoulder from behind.
Hm? Who was it?
There were precious few people who would place a hand on his shoulder so familiarly.
At most, perhaps a few of the other squad leaders?
But then—
“Huh?”
Noh Ilbong turned to see who had grabbed his hand, his face startled.
It was Yeo Unhwi—the Morning Running Ghost.
The man felt an almost irresistible urge to weep at the mere sight of this particular human approaching him.
Yet Yeo Unhwi, blissfully unaware of his turmoil, greeted him with an innocent smile.
“How have you been?”
“Pardon? Ah, yes. Yes.”
Noh Ilbong laughed awkwardly, offering his reply.
How could he possibly say: ‘Because of you, I’ve spent every day in hell’?
Ever since that legendary morning—the infamous morning running incident—the squad leader’s manner toward Yeo Unhwi had grown extraordinarily deferential.
“You look well.”
“Ha ha… Thank you. Um, anyway, what brings you here?”
“Ah. Say, would you mind if I asked you a favor?”
“A favor?”
At Noh Ilbong’s echo, Yeo Unhwi nodded.
‘Damn it. Of all people, why does it have to be me…’
Though he’d sworn a thousand times never to get entangled with this man, he found himself unable to refuse without first hearing what the favor was.
If Yeo Unhwi now asked him to do morning running together, he had no confidence he could survive whatever calamity that would bring.
More than Yeo Unhwi himself, what truly frightened Noh Ilbong was the prospect of facing his fellow warriors’ withering stares afterward.
Then Yeo Unhwi leaned close and whispered something into his ear.
Noh Ilbong’s eyes widened instantly.
It was a request so unexpected, so far beyond his imagining, that it caught him completely off guard.
“You think… I could manage that?”
When Yeo Unhwi smiled at him once more, Noh Ilbong found himself nodding before he even knew what he was doing.
What on earth could such a favor possibly be?

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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