A Job
“Damn it…”
All the vegetables I’d planted before had withered yellow and died.
I was stunned. The midsummer sun was fierce, sure, but the grass and weeds on the mountains and fields were all doing just fine.
Why is it only my little garden that looks like this?
I stared at it in a daze, then tried to remember the last time I’d watered it.
I couldn’t. I’d been pouring all my energy into saber practice, and the garden had always come second.
I was pretty sure I’d learned farm work from my parents when I was little, so how was it that I couldn’t even manage to grow a single vegetable properly?
I must have held a blade for too long. At this rate, even with land of my own, farming was a lost cause.
After yanking out the vegetables I’d worked so hard to plant without even tasting them, I tossed the lot over the wall and flopped down on the veranda.
The blazing heat, as if summer had reached its peak, beat down like a whip.
I had no motivation to do anything at all. The only blessing was that the humidity wasn’t too high, so the shade stayed comfortably cool.
I was idly chewing dried meat and enjoying the breeze drifting in through the window when someone knocked at the gate.
It was a boy running an errand.
“You’re from Dojeong Ironworks?”
“Yes, sir. You’re the one who ordered the new long saber, right? It’s finished. They told me to fetch you.”
I’d stopped by exactly a month after placing the order, and he’d said he was still working on the finishing touches, so it seemed it was finally done.
I quickly strapped on my willow-leaf saber and headed for the ironworks.
“You’re here?”
The ironworks master, who had been sorting through iron ingots, brushed his hands clean and stood to greet me.
The forge was miserably hot. Even in this weather, there were still flames burning in the furnace. They must have been working until just a moment ago.
“Aren’t you hot?”
The master wiped his forehead with the towel hanging around his neck and shook his head.
“Not in the least. If a blacksmith can’t handle the heat, he ought to put down his hammer. Come inside.”
I passed through the steaming workshop and stepped out into the yard. Once I was standing in the shade beneath the eaves, the ironworks master brought out my new long saber.
“Here you are. Have a look.”
The hilt and scabbard had been remade too, but they were the same black as before.
When I drew the blade, the long steel body, free of even the slightest nick, gleamed coldly in the shade. The edge had been honed so white and fine that just looking at it sent a chill up the back of my neck.
The length and curve were exactly the same as before. It felt a little lighter, though.
“It’s a touch lighter.”
“The weight’s the same. It’s probably just the balance.”
I stepped out into the middle of the yard and ran through a few forms as they came to me.
Whoooosh!
The blade cut through the air with the crisp sharpness of slicing cloth. Nothing snagged; nothing wavered.
Just as the master had said, it felt as if the balance point had shifted about half a span closer to my body.
Because it was lighter, the strikes didn’t carry quite as much force. If it collided with an enemy’s weapon, it would lose some of its ability to hold ground.
On the other hand, the speed of my swings and the way the blade moved had become a little faster than before.
Weighing the pros and cons, it wasn’t a bad trade. In real combat, even a little extra speed was better.
Once I broke from the standard forms and started swinging it irregularly, this saber’s true worth showed itself.
The balance between speed and power was far more stable than before, and that made it much quicker to respond to sudden movements.
Only after I’d grown fully convinced of the new saber’s quality did I stop and slide it back into the scabbard.
I steadied my breathing and checked the hilt, which fit my palm so perfectly it seemed to cling there. Even though it had been wrapped in new leather, the rough tanning kept it from being slippery at all.
“Your saber work is a pleasure to watch. Do you like the weapon?”
“It’s much better than the old one.”
Seeing my satisfaction, the master nodded with a pleased expression of his own.
“Making it exactly the same would’ve been boring. I took your height and arm length into account and improved a few things here and there. I’m glad it suits you.”
“I should be able to calculate the rest with my willow-leaf saber, yes?”
“Let’s have a look.”
The master drew out my willow-leaf saber and inspected the blade, then twitched his brows.
“This one’s been used, hasn’t it?”
“The edge isn’t damaged.”
I’d cut some bamboo and exchanged a few bouts with Won Seo-gang, but the blade itself was still perfectly fine.
“True enough, but… look here. The steel’s got quite a few scars on it. By now it’s almost a new blade, but if you were the buyer, would you really pay full price for this?”
I had nothing to say to that. If I were buying this saber myself, I probably would’ve used it as an excuse to knock off at least a tael of silver.
A blade that was almost new was still only almost new. It wasn’t truly new.
“How much extra do I owe you?”
“Just half a tael of silver.”
I wasn’t short on money, and it wasn’t an unreasonable request. Besides, who knew when I’d need to repair or replace this saber again?
There was no reason to go picking a fight with a blacksmith who was this skilled.
I took out my purse and paid him. Speaking of half a tael of silver, something suddenly occurred to me.
“Do you pay protection money to the Black Night Gang here too?”
“Protection money? Us?”
The master burst into hearty laughter, as if the idea were absurd. Jong-su, who had been listening from behind him, grinned too.
“Our ironworks has ties with the Yongcheon Escort Agency, so we don’t have much to do with those Black Night bastards. Once in a while some ignorant clods come around wanting to buy a blade, and they try to threaten us one by one. Jong-su, what did we do to those trash merchants the other day?”
Jong-su folded his arms across his hulking, muscular chest and answered with a swagger.
“We beat them until they were a pile of bloody pulp, then tied them up tight. I started sharpening a blade on the whetstone right in front of them, and they nearly died of fright. Then I made a show of tossing them into the furnace alive, and the fools started pissing themselves while bawling about their nonexistent old mothers, wives, and children.”
There was probably some bluffing and exaggeration mixed in there, but it didn’t sound like he was making the whole thing up.
A blacksmith hardened by a lifetime of manual labor had more than enough strength and nerve to deal with an ordinary martial artist.
There was a reason people said you shouldn’t mess with butchers and blacksmiths.
After exchanging farewells, I buckled the new long saber at my back waist and turned to leave. The weapon was even better than I’d hoped, and I was in such a good mood I could have started humming.
I’d only walked a little way when I stopped. The entrance to the alley was blocked by a crowd.
“What’s going on?”
“Just making way for a procession from the Yongcheon Escort Agency.”
“An escort caravan?”
I watched in silence, and over the tops of people’s heads, the banner of the Yongcheon Escort Agency came into view.
A huge procession was rolling toward us, kicking up clouds of dust and filling the broad avenue that cut through the commercial district.
There were five mounted escort leaders, more than twenty supply carts, and dozens of escort guards, with porters carrying baggage in even greater numbers.
It looked like the large escort run to Sichuan that had been scheduled for months.
Come to think of it, the time had come for them to leave.
To prepare for that run, the escort agency had to pull guards away from the businesses it managed. Thanks to that, I’d been able to work at Simhyangru for a month as well.
I spotted a few familiar faces.
The chief escort leader, Pung Gang-ik, and the escort guards I’d worked with before…
Jo Gyeong-jik was probably still guarding Simhyangru. The giant with the build of a battlefield brute, the one built like Zhang Fei, was nowhere to be seen, so he must have stayed at the agency.
The procession loaded down with goods soon left the main road and disappeared from Seochon. Street vendors who had taken cover in the alleyways came back out to spread their stalls again, and the passersby returned to their own affairs.
I watched the escort agency’s carts trundle slowly toward distant, dangerous Sichuan, then turned and started walking myself.
Poongcheon Inn was as quiet as always. Two farmers who came at the same hour every day were sitting in their usual seats, eating wheat noodles.
I was about to take a seat by the window when I hesitated.
“Hey, you came?”
Won Seo-gang spotted me and lifted a hand in greeting.
I didn’t think we were close enough for such a warm hello.
It was awkward to turn around and leave, and just as awkward to sit somewhere else, so I had no choice but to take the seat across from him.
“You were looking for me?”
Won Seo-gang picked up some noodles with his chopsticks and answered.
“That’s right.”
“How did you know I’d come here? You didn’t tail me, did you?”
“Tail you? Of course not. The madam was about to send someone to get you, and I said I’d bring you myself. She said you’d come if you were waiting at this inn.”
As expected, the madam had already tracked my movements. She probably even knew where I lived.
I didn’t feel like I was being followed, but the eyes of the Haomu Sect were everywhere, so keeping tabs on someone was hardly any trouble.
“Why does the madam want me?”
“I heard you’ve agreed to work as a guest, haven’t you?”
“Is there work?”
“Looks like it.”
“What sort of work?”
“You’ll see when we get there. Still, the cook here is rather good. Noodles are easy enough to make, but getting the broth right is another matter entirely. It’s been a long time since I had such clean soup without any meaty stink in it. It’s not crowded either, so I’ll have to come more often.”
Won Seo-gang looked satisfied as he lifted the bowl and drank the broth.
Watching him eat so happily made me hungry, but if I ate anything now I felt like I’d only upset my stomach, so I just sipped at some chilled tea instead.
Right after I’d fetched my new saber, I’d ended up with work. I couldn’t tell whether that was a good omen or a bad one.
“You’re not climbing over the wall today?”
It was a question that held more sincerity than not. As we headed for the main gate of Simhyangru, Won Seo-gang answered with a calm expression.
“You can’t climb over a wall in broad daylight. Too many eyes on us.”
As the two martial artists with blades on our hips approached, the gate guards who’d been chatting among themselves immediately straightened up, visibly tense.
Won Seo-gang lifted the brim of his bamboo hat and showed his face.
“You’ve both been working hard.”
“So you’re a guest of the annex. This one is… hmm…”
One of the guards recognized me. Ever since Bang Jo-in had died, none of them had bothered to speak to me, so there was no need for any special greeting.
The guard opened the gate.
It was my first visit to Simhyangru since I’d quit the job. Nothing had changed in the meantime. The main building was the same, and even the people working there were familiar faces.
When we reached the madam’s quarters, tucked deepest inside the annexes, Geuk-hwan opened the door for us.
After the briefest exchange of greetings, he led Won Seo-gang and me to the same reception room I’d been in before.
There was already one person there.
A middle-aged monk in a monk’s robe.
When Won Seo-gang and I entered, he only gave us a sideways glance before closing his eyes again and idly rolling his prayer beads between his fingers.
Won Seo-gang silently took an empty seat. I settled into the chair nearest the door.
It didn’t seem like the atmosphere called for introductions, so everyone kept their mouths shut.
I sipped my tea and thought about what might be going on. I also reviewed, in my own way, what line I would agree to and what line I would refuse to cross. I didn’t forget to think over my escape route, either.
Hong-hui, the head of the Seochon branch of the Haomu Sect and the mistress of Simhyangru, appeared about a quarter of an hour later.
She took the seat of honor, looked over the three people she’d summoned, and began to speak.
“Thank you all for coming. I’ll get straight to the point. This evening, a client pursuing the murderer will arrive in Seochon. They requested support from our main branch, so our Seochon division has been assigned the matter.”
The monk spoke for the first time.
“You need hunting dogs, then?”
“For now, they requested protection.”
“Protection?”
“They say they’d like to hire a few trustworthy first-rate experts. They also requested a guide.”
“Then there’s no place for me in this.”
As the monk rose with his prayer beads in hand, Hong-hui continued in a serene voice.
“The clients are people from Chengdu. If things go well, you may obtain what you desire. Will you really decline?”
The monk looked down at Hong-hui with empty eyes.
His gaze was so devoid of emotion, so deep and indifferent, that for an instant he seemed like some eminent monk blessed with profound spiritual power. But he was too clear, too transparent, and that made him chilling instead.
He was so inhuman it made me flinch before I even realized I was doing it.
He might have shaved his head and worn a monk’s robe, but that man was still a blood-soaked martial artist through and through.
Geuk-hwan opened the door and came in. I’d assumed he’d sensed the monk’s sharp aura from outside and stepped in to intervene, but that wasn’t it at all.
After Geuk-hwan leaned down and whispered something to Hong-hui, a faint smile spread across her face.
“We’ve identified the murderer’s location. He stopped by Rogue Inn, hired some blades-for-hire, and left in a hurry.”
“Rogue Inn? There’s a place like that in Seochon?”
I tilted my head at the unfamiliar name, and Won Seo-gang let out a teasing sigh.
“Looks like life’s been treating you pretty well lately. You didn’t even know there was a Rogue Inn for blades-for-hire.”
Geuk-hwan withdrew, and the monk sat back down. It seemed he’d changed his mind, because he brought the teacup to his lips again with the same expressionless face.
Now I was the one who felt uneasy.
“By Chengdu, do you mean Chengdu in Sichuan?”
“Yes. The clients are from Sichuan.”
At the mention of people from that rough province I’d rather not deal with again, an ominous feeling crept over me, and I frowned despite myself.
Hong-hui smiled faintly, as if amused by my reaction, and said, “They’re from the Tang Family.”