Chapter 4: Emerging from Dust

The Reflection Chamber

Despite its name, it was far more than a simple chamber. It was a vast, echoing hall, historically used to transcribe ancient manuals and preserve decaying texts before time could turn them to dust. Though it sounded like a place of punishment, it had never once been used to discipline a disciple—until today.

‘Father confining me here can only mean one thing.’

‘He needs me to prepare for the path ahead, safely hidden from the prying eyes of the rest of the clan.’

Although the Seo Family kept their distance from the brutal Martial World, they still maintained a vast collection of martial arts tomes to train their warrior guards and the family army. Jin-Woon paced through the martial arts section, idly flipping the pages of whatever text caught his eye.

For years, he genuinely believed the sheer glory of his family name would guarantee him a cozy, consequence-free life. And why wouldn't he? No matter what mischievous trouble he caused, no one ever dared to cross him.

Until the Yun Family.

Acknowledging his own senseless arrogance was a humiliating pill to swallow, but that bitter realization turned out to be the exact wake-up call his mind desperately needed.

After a meticulous search that stretched on for hours, Jin-Woon gathered a stack of texts and retreated into the Reflection Chamber. He set the heavy books on the floor beside a large sack of fasting pills, and settled down.

"Boundless Horizons."

The title of the first tome shimmered under the warm glow of the oil lamp. He lost himself in the pages, falling into a trance so deep he didn't even notice the flickering light—just like when he was a little boy. With every page he turned, his gaze grew increasingly solemn.

"Phew… The Central Plains are unimaginably vast, let alone the entirety of the Jianghu."

Hours bled into what felt like a lifetime. Finally, having lived an entire existence within those ancient words, Jin-Woon closed the massive tome.

“It’s surprising how isolated my family is from the Martial World; only a handful of texts even mention our existence,” he muttered. “Even so, no one dares to dismiss the surname ‘Seo’ lightly.”

His eyes narrowed with newfound determination. “But I can't rely on my ancestors' glory forever. I have to forge my own strength!”

Ever since he was young, the prospect of managing the family businesses held zero appeal. Jin-Woon had fully embraced the life of the ultimate slacker, content to waste his days drinking, spending silver, and living comfortably.

But a profound shift had taken place within him.

He thought back to the family's army, recalling the strenuous, grueling regimens the warriors endured in the training courtyards every single day. Their brutal routines used to make him shudder in disgust. Now, however, the thought of that bone-breaking effort didn't make him uncomfortable at all—it felt like the only way forward.

Knock. Knock.

‘Who would dare approach the chamber while I’m in strict confinement?’

"Who is it?"

"Young Master, it is I, Seo Gun-Woo."

Jin-Woon cracked the heavy door open, deliberately blocking the entrance. "What business does Commander Gun-Woo have here at this hour?"

At least half a dozen hours had passed since Jin-Woon first entered the Reflection Chamber, meaning it had to be nearing midnight.

"Apologies for the intrusion, Young Master." The commander of the Seo Family army bowed, his face shadowed by the dim light. "The Patriarch ordered me to 'look after' you during your closed-door seclusion."

Jin-Woon’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t like the heavy implication behind the phrase look after.

"May I come in, Young Master?"

"...Please do."

Even though Jin-Woon stepped aside to let Seo Gun-Woo inside, his guard remained up. He had no idea what the commander intended to do with him in this isolated room.

"Under the Patriarch's orders, I will personally oversee your training for the next month," the commander announced, his voice echoing in the quiet hall.

The words struck Jin-Woon like a physical blow.

‘I always thought Father despised martial arts.’

A faint, knowing smile slowly crept onto Jin-Woon's face. Gathering himself, he cupped his hands together and offered a respectful, formal bow.

"I humbly accept the Patriarch's orders."

"Then let us get to work, Young Master!"

As the Lunar New Year approached, the entirety of Qinhuai District transformed into a bustling hub of chaos and commerce. Wandering martial artists finally returned to their roots, and massive merchant caravans from the outer regions flooded the streets. Naturally, the Seo Family—the undisputed rulers of Qinhuai—was just as frantic, their grand estate teeming with activity day and night.

"I heard the Seo Family is hosting a grand banquet on the night of the full moon," a voice muttered in a crowded teahouse.

"Are you new around here?" another scoffed.

"Yeah, I just arrived with a caravan last month. Why?"

"Because the Seo Family holds a banquet every Lunar New Year."

"Ah, is that so?"

"Yes, but this year is different," the local leaned in, lowering his voice. "An acquaintance of mine who works in the mansion said they are going to announce some massive news at the banquet. I wonder what it could possibly be..."

Similar excited whispers echoed through every alley and market. Citizens, traveling merchants, and even the elite guards of the Seo Family army buzzed with anticipation.

With the influx of travelers, even the Seo Family's Grand Archive saw a rare surge of visitors and merchants. The old librarian was secretly thrilled; for once, he didn't have to spend the entire day sitting in agonizing boredom.

"It has been nearly a month since the Young Master sealed himself inside the Reflection Chamber," he murmured to himself.

If it wasn't for the servant stationed outside to swap out the fresh water basins, the librarian might have assumed the boy had died in there. Surviving for weeks solely on fasting pills was no easy feat for a beginner.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, the chaotic crowd in the archive gradually thinned out. By the time dusk fully claimed the sky, the librarian found himself entirely alone once again in the heavy silence.

 Then, the distinct echo of heavy footsteps drifted up from the stairs leading to the underground chamber.

Creeeeak.

The heavy wooden door beside the librarian’s desk swung open. A figure stepped out of the shadows.

It was a strikingly handsome young man with sharp, chiseled features. He was shirtless, his newly toned muscles gleaming with a heavy layer of sweat. Though his breathing was slightly labored, his face radiated a bright, undeniable vitality.

"Y-Young Master...?"

It took the old librarian a long moment to process the sight. Was this imposing figure really the notorious Young Master? He remembered the slender, fragile boy who had carried those tomes inside a month ago. The man standing before him now was entirely different. The librarian's eyes bulged in utter disbelief.

"Thank you for lending me these texts for the past month."

The young man placed a stack of worn books onto the desk. Even his voice resonated deeper than the boy the librarian remembered.

‘This is unbelievable. To think a person could change this much in just thirty days…’

"Are you... are you truly the Young Master?" the words tumbled from the librarian’s mouth before he could stop them.

At the exclamation, the young man flashed a bright grin. It wasn't the hollow, lazy smirk he used to wear when drunk. It was sharp, confident, and completely alive.

"Of course!" he laughed.

"Who else would I be?"