The Past Reborn in Dust

"Your Majesty, what if someone had cunningly manipulated the Princess's memories and emotions, so that she confessed 'false facts' that you firmly believe to be the truth? What would you do then?"

Of course, it was a lie. Akasha had already confirmed that Princess Sohwa was not under the sway of the Soul-Capture Art. Even so, Ouyang Qiangang insisted the incident was the work of a hidden hand, and he did so to give the Emperor a way out. If Princess Sohwa truly was the one who had orchestrated the whole affair, the Emperor's humiliation would be the least of his problems; the situation could turn politically dangerous. That was not an outcome Qiangang desired.

The Emperor's gaze grew heavy.

"The Princess firmly believes herself the victim, so her words are no lie. I have never committed such a deed, so mine are no lie either. Which means all of this points to the existence of a third party, one who used the Princess like a pawn on a chessboard and lured me into a trap."

The fury drained from Changsung's face, leaving it expressionless.

"Your Majesty, if you will but match steps with me for a moment, I will prove both the Princess's innocence and my own. Grant me the chance."

A short silence passed. Changsung gave the faintest, barely perceptible nod, then opened his mouth.

"I will ask you once more. Do you truly maintain that you did not attempt to violate Sohwa?"

Qiangang's answering voice did not waver in the slightest.

"It is not a claim but the truth. And I can prove that my words are no lie."

The Emperor's eyes widened, and the civil and military officials burst into murmurs.

"And how do you propose to prove it?"

"I know several of the arts of Qimen Dunjia, and among them is one called the Art of Reverse Causality. It retraces cause and effect ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to recreate the true shape of the past. I intend to use it to recreate the events of that day. Grant me permission, Your Majesty."

Changsung's gaze grew heavy. He sank into deliberation. If Qiangang truly unfolded such an art, and it revealed that Sohwa had framed him, the imperial family's face would be ruined beyond all mending.

Left State Councillor Jo Mun-gyeong thrust up his white eyebrows and shouted.

"Your Majesty, you must not permit that man to wield his wicked sorcery! I fear the truth itself will be twisted by such beguiling trickery!"

Muk Cheol-gang chimed in as well.

"Your Majesty, the Left Councillor speaks rightly! The sorceries of the gangho are all depraved tricks. How could the imperial court ever allow such a thing!"

At that very moment, the footfalls of many people rang out from the rear of the hall. The one who appeared was the Empress, leading dozens of palace maids. Though past fifty, she still boasted a bewitching beauty, her hair swept up and pinned with splendid phoenix hairpins, her body robed in a purple palace gown embroidered with gold thread. Her beautiful face was cold as ice, and the eyes she fixed on Qiangang seethed with a chilling murderous aura.

"Your Majesty!"

Fury brimmed in the Empress's voice as she pressed on.

"How can you let yourself be beguiled by the wicked words of a mere gangho sorcerer and topple the dignity of the imperial house with your own hands! Do you mean to drive a nail into my heart by unveiling before all the world the sight of my Sohwa being toyed with by his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠depraved sorcery?"

At the Empress's razor-edged rebuke, even Changsung was briefly struck speechless.

But right then, a frail voice drifted in from the entrance of the hall.

"Your Majesty..."

It was Princess Myeonghwa, supported by a palace maid. Qiangang's treatment had restored much of her strength, yet her figure remained frail, and every gaze in the hall converged upon her.

Startled, Changsung's eyes went wide.

"Myeonghwa..."

Princess Myeonghwa spoke in a trembling voice.

"Father, I believe you must give the Divine Doctor who saved my life a chance to speak in his own defense. If he is truly innocent..."

For an instant, a cold murderous light flashed through the Empress's eyes as she looked at Princess Myeonghwa. But it was gone in a heartbeat, and she spoke with an air of deep concern.

"Myeonghwa, your body has not yet fully recovered. Why have you come all the way here?"

Princess Myeonghwa shook her head.

"Mother, I am quite all right. Young Master Hahu is the savior of my life. I trust his character."

The Emperor recalled the look in Qiangang's eyes from their private audience days before.

Hahu Gang, are you trying to lure out the hidden hand...

"I grant it," he said. "Demonstrate this art."

As the Imperial Guard warriors stepped forward to remove the sword resting against his neck and the iron chains, Qiangang spoke.

"There is no need."

He closed his eyes, still on his knees.

Akasha, are you ready?

Understood. I'll use my internal energy to break the bluestone down into powder fine as mist and lift it into the air. We'll use that as our screen.

The moment Qiangang pressed both palms to the floor, the Transcendent Formless Divine Art spread outward like ripples across water. Moments later, the hard bluestone his internal force touched began silently crumbling into dust as fine as sand. The stone powder rose into the air as though it had a will of its own, gathering around him like an enormous curtain.

With Akasha's words, the stone dust suspended in the air began to vibrate in perfect unison, each grain trembling minutely as it sculpted itself into human figures: Princess Sohwa, and Qiangang seated calmly in a chair.

Everyone in Taehwa Hall watched with bated breath. In all their lives, they had never seen even the most accomplished Daoist bring such a thing into being.

The figures of stone dust began to move. Princess Sohwa waiting for Qiangang in the hall; Qiangang stepping through the door. The two exchanging a brief conversation. Then, all at once, Sohwa tearing at her own clothes as she backed away, while Qiangang went on drinking his tea and watching her with perfect composure. Before the eyes of every onlooker, Princess Sohwa ripped her garments apart and screamed. A moment later she was crouched in a corner, shivering violently, though a cold smile curved the corner of her mouth. The door bursting apart and the warriors storming in were recreated perfectly as well. It was no illusion; it was a living, breathing fragment of the past itself.

The Emperor, the Empress, Princess Myeonghwa, and all the civil and military officials who witnessed that mysterious, uncanny demonstration were struck dumb. The Empress's face had turned deathly pale, and her hands trembled almost imperceptibly.

When the reconstruction of the past ended and the stone dust drifted lifelessly to the floor, the front of Taehwa Hall was swallowed by a hush as complete as if cold water had been dashed over it. The ministers, unable to tell whether what they had just witnessed was reality or fantasy, could only stare at the empty air with hollow eyes.

The one who broke that silence was the Emperor seated on the throne: Changsung. His voice trembled faintly with fury and shock held barely in check.

"Is this... truly the truth of what happened that day?"

Still kneeling, Qiangang answered in an unwavering voice.

"It is, Your Majesty."

"Even to my eyes, something was strange. The warriors who seized you... they burst in far too quickly, as though they had been waiting for that scream."

At the Emperor's sharp observation, Qiangang raised his head. His eyes were colder and clearer than they had ever been.

"Your Majesty's discerning eye does not err. At the time, dozens of warriors were lying in wait inside Sohwa Palace, as if they had known in advance exactly what was about to happen."

He paused for a moment, then continued in a voice clear enough to ring through the entire hall.

"As I understand it, Sohwa Palace is forbidden ground for men. How, then, could that many men hide in the very place closest to the Princess's chambers? Even the most basic investigation into why they were there would catch the tail of whoever stands behind this entire play."

Complex emotions crossed Changsung's face. Fury, bewilderment, and... disappointment.

The Empress shrieked in a trembling voice.

"Th-this is sorcery! Nothing but a false illusion conjured by that man!"

But her desperate cry only rang out hollowly. No one believed that what they had just witnessed was an illusion. It was far too vivid for that, vivid to the point of terror: the dance-like drift of every wisp of dust, each individual thread of the phoenix pattern embroidered so intricately on Princess Sohwa's sleeve, and even that cold smile that had bloomed on her lips when she believed no one was watching. A scene reproduced without a hair's breadth of error was like glimpsing the past through the eyes of a god. And so not a single soul echoed the Empress's words.

The ministers who had been murmuring now regarded the Empress with frigid eyes, stripped of even the last shred of sympathy. Even the Left State Councillor and the Minister of War, who had raised their voices in her defense, could not bring themselves to lift their heads, and only kept their silence. Her cry sounded like nothing more than the final, desperate struggle of someone driven into ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a dead end.

Taehwa Hall sank into a silence like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠death itself. The "art" Qiangang had performed had not only proven his innocence; it had laid bare a thread of the hidden conspiracy.

Qiangang spoke.

"Your Majesty, I believe my innocence has now been proven. I do not intend to withdraw from the palace. I wish to devote myself wholly to curing Princess Myeonghwa's illness. Grant me leave to do so."

His calm words shook Taehwa Hall to its foundations.

"You mean to remain in the imperial palace?"

"I do. The Princess's illness has already improved by more than seventy percent. If I remain in the palace and apply my full strength, I can have her completely cured within three days."

"Truly?"

"Yes."

At that moment, the Emperor rose slowly from his throne. Descending the steps, he came to stand before Qiangang, and surveying his surroundings with frost-cold eyes, he spoke in a weighty voice.

"What are you waiting for! Unbind the Divine Doctor at once!"

Not "Hahu Gang," nor "criminal," but "Divine Doctor." It was a declaration of how the Emperor intended to close this affair, and of how much power he meant to place in Qiangang's hands.

The Imperial Guard warriors hurried forward and removed the blade and iron chains from Qiangang's neck. Through it all, no one dared so much as breathe Princess Sohwa's name. It was the ministers' unspoken pledge of loyalty, burying the royal family's shame, and at the same time the instinctive self-censorship of men determined to survive the coming storm.

The Empress's face was drained of every trace of color, and the officials who had loudly denounced Qiangang now stole glances at one another and sealed their mouths shut. Sensing in her bones that everything was over, the Empress glared at Qiangang for a long moment with eyes gone cold as frost, then turned away without a word. And just before she withdrew, she turned her head to look back at Princess Myeonghwa. In the depths of her eyes, a cold light flashed past. It was not fury... but something deeper and darker.

Freed from the blade and chains, Qiangang bowed deeply to the Emperor. Then Princess Myeonghwa, approaching him with a maid's supporting arm, spoke.

"Young Master Hahu, it is time for you to come to my palace now."

Absolute trust filled her voice.