It began with a gift ceremony.
At three months old, Lee Yong-Su had survived one attempted goose duel, three ingredient-gathering missions, and a small, unintentional squirrel-launching event.
As tradition dictated, it was now time for his First Gift Ceremony—where a child chooses from a spread of symbolic items, supposedly hinting at their future path.
A jade brush for scholars.A wooden sword for warriors.A spirit bead for cultivators.A chicken feather for… whatever that meant.And, for no logical reason, a bamboo flute.
Because some ancestor believed music was important or whatever.
The Crowd Gathers
Family members filled the hall. Nobles whispered. Grandfather cleared his throat dramatically like he was preparing to narrate destiny itself.
Yong-Su sat in a velvet-lined baby seat, swaddled like a chubby dumpling of fate. Before him, the Sacred Choices lay on silk cushions.
"Let the young master choose," Father declared, puffing his chest.
"Let destiny speak," Mother added, with a glowing smile.
Let me pick the most tubular item and start phase one of Project Boomstick, thought Yong-Su.
Without hesitation, he ignored the jade brush, yeeted the spirit bead off the table, and slammed both fists on the bamboo flute like it owed him money.
A shocked silence fell across the room.
Then Grandfather roared with laughter.
"He shall be a musician!"
"Perhaps... a bard cultivator?" someone whispered.
"No," muttered Fen from the back. "He's going to kill us all with sound."
Enter the Tutor (Poor Man)
Three days later, a new character entered the scene: Master Jianwu, a retired sword cultivator with flowing robes, silver hair, and the energy of a man who expected quiet tea, light exercise, and no exploding poultry.
He arrived holding a wooden training sword and a scroll titled "The Twelve Paths of Blade Purity."
He left holding a black eye and a deep existential crisis.
Day One: Sword Meets Baby
"Young Master," Jianwu said, kneeling before the crib. "I will teach you the way of the sword."
Yong-Su stared blankly. Then slowly reached over, grabbed a plush rattle, and bonked the sword on the floor like a judge declaring the trial of Steel vs. Common Sense.
I'm not wasting qi on oversized chopsticks, he thought.
Jianwu, undeterred, launched into a demonstration—twisting and slashing through the air like a ribbon dancer with anger issues.
Yong-Su drooled slightly. Not from awe. From sheer boredom.
Then, the baby picked up the bamboo flute, jammed one end into a wooden block, and started smacking it with a spoon.
Prototype barrel. Length okay. Grip awful. Aim? Nonexistent. But we're getting there.
The tutor stopped mid-swing.
"…Is he… crafting something?"
Fen, watching from the doorway, nodded solemnly.
"Last week he built a pulley from shoelaces. Don't ask how."
Day Three: The Shattering
By now, the tutor was desperate. His honor was on the line. He tried to put the baby's hand around the sword hilt again.
Bad move.
Yong-Su took the hilt, stared at it for three seconds, and then bit it. Hard.Then he threw it at Tao-Tao the goose, who honked in terror and fled.The sword stuck in a tree.
Everyone just watched.
Jianwu knelt before the tree, hands trembling.
"He doesn't want the sword."
"He wants range," whispered Fen.
"He wants revenge," whispered no one, but everyone felt it.
Progress Report (Classified)
Baby Notebook Entry:
Weapon prototype 001: Bamboo Flute Blaster (BFB)
Status: Currently a musical instrument. Needs barrel drilling.
Range: Laughable.
Threat Level: Emotional, mostly.
Next step: discover blacksmith area without being yeeted back to crib.
Fen's suspicion level: 9/10
Father's awareness: -4/10 ("My son shall play ballads!")
At Night…
Candlelight flickered over the crib as Yong-Su tinkered quietly. Two rattles stripped for parts. One teething ring disassembled for copper wiring (don't ask where he got it). The bamboo flute lay in the center like a holy relic awaiting ignition.
"Soon," he whispered internally, "I'll make my first barrel. And then the fireworks begin."
The stars outside twinkled, unaware they were soon to be upstaged.