The Vanished Corpses
The night Zhu Biao and his warriors departed, Ouyang Qiangang sat deep into the small hours, studying the fragment of the Cloth-Bag Monk statue by candlelight. The urgent business had finally been settled, granting him a rare measure of breathing room.
A single candle cast its faint glow over the annex, and the stillness of the night drew his focus ever deeper. But once again, it seemed, he would not get to the bottom of the statue's secret—because he had visitors.
How many?
His eyes sinking deep, Ouyang Qiangang slipped the statue fragment into his robes. Hostile intent?
It was true. The approaching footsteps were stealthy, yet their owners made no particular effort to hide themselves completely—as if to announce that they were no enemies.
Interesting. Who could it be?
Soon the footsteps stopped before his door, and a low voice drifted in. "Young Master Hahu? Might we have a word with you?"
The voice that cleaved the night air was cold and measured. A young man's voice.
"Enter."
The door swung open, and two silhouettes backed by moonlight stepped inside. The man who entered first was so finely featured that his gender was difficult to gauge at a glance. The face revealed beneath his headband was flawless as white jade, but those eyes were as cold and deep as ice.
The woman who followed was beautiful as a painting silhouetted against the moonlight—yet hers was not a beauty that put anyone at ease. It was too dazzling, chilling to the very bone: a well-honed blade sheathed in poison.
A fine crease formed between Qiangang's brows. Testosterone was the male hormone; for a man's levels to run that low could only mean one thing. A eunuch, then?
Smoothing his brow, Ouyang Qiangang bade the two enter. "Please, come in."
The beautiful eunuch stepped into the annex first and bowed with perfect courtesy. "Young Master, I am Han Jo, Vice Envoy of the Eastern Depot. I have come bearing a secret command from His Majesty."
Vice Envoy of the Eastern Depot?
He had half expected the man to be a eunuch out of the imperial palace. That he belonged to the Eastern Depot, however, had never crossed Qiangang's mind, and his eyes widened. The Eastern Depot was the Emperor's personal secret intelligence service, and a Vice Envoy ranked among its mid-level officers. His official grade was nothing remarkable, yet his true power rivaled that of high ministers of the second or third rank.
The woman followed with an elegant fist-and-palm salute. "I am Pung So-cheong, Branch Master of the Hao Sect's Imperial Capital branch—known to some as the Red Moon Scar."
Her voice rang clear as strung jade beads, yet it was far from easy on the ears. The branch master of the Hao Sect—an organization whose bread and butter was information and brokerage—could hardly be some ordinary swordswoman.
Privately, Ouyang Qiangang was nonplussed. A Vice Envoy of the Eastern Depot, and the Branch Master of the Hao Sect. One was a shadow of the imperial house; the other, an information merchant of the Murim. A more ill-matched pairing would have been hard to find.
"Please, be seated."
Qiangang gestured them to their places. A subtle current ran between the three as they faced one another, the guttering candlelight flickering across each face in turn.
Han Jo spoke first. "Young Master, before His Majesty departed for the Murim, he entrusted me with words to deliver to you."
His voice carried a mechanical coldness, stripped of all emotion.
Pung So-cheong picked up the thread with a bewitching smile. "And our Hao Sect has information we simply must share with you as well, Young Master."
Her smile was lovely, but the intent lurking behind it was impossible to read. Qiangang's gaze passed from one to the other. Han Jo remained expressionless; Pung So-cheong held her enigmatic smile.
"Is there a reason you've come together?" Qiangang asked.
Han Jo and Pung So-cheong exchanged a glance. It was Pung So-cheong who spoke first.
"Young Master, do you happen to remember the broker who arranged the job for Yawol—the one who broke into the warehouse at Yeomga Manor?"
The corner of Qiangang's eye twitched. "I heard from Great Hero Yeom Pung that the man was your kin."
"That's right. He's my own dear brother." Pung So-cheong went on with a bright smile. "Great Hero Yeom spared his life, you see. And a short while ago, in return for saving it, he asked a favor of me."
Qiangang nodded. The conversation he had once shared with Yeom Pung came back to him—the man had said he would seek the aid of the Hao Sect's Imperial Capital Branch Master.
"The investigation into the serpent devouring its own tail?" he asked.
"Yes. The very tattoo the palace maid you interrogated at Myeonghwa Palace testified about."
Han Jo cut in, his face blank. "I, too, had been tracking that same tattoo on the orders of the Director Grand Eunuch."
Only then did Qiangang grasp how the two before him had come to be together. "So you crossed paths in the course of your investigations?"
Pung So-cheong nodded. "Exactly. We stumbled into each other while working separately and realized we were chasing the same quarry."
Han Jo nodded as well. "Before you departed for the Murim, Young Master, His Majesty commanded me to bring you word of what we had learned. As it happened, Branch Master Pung and I were following the same lead..."
"...so it was only natural that we come together," Pung So-cheong finished.
Qiangang looked the two of them square in the eye. "And what clue did you find?"
The candle flame swayed violently once more, and the tension in the annex thickened a notch. Pung So-cheong took an elegant sip of her tea before speaking.
"Young Master, are you familiar with Guimun Mountain, some five hundred li northwest of the Imperial Capital?"
"I've heard the name."
"Another fifty-odd li within lies a gorge called the Valley of Lost Souls." Her voice dropped lower as she continued. "A hundred years ago, it was the site of a great battle between two hundred thousand nomadic tribesmen marching south and more than half a million soldiers of the Hwan Empire."
Qiangang's eyes deepened. "Seven hundred thousand in all... a battle of staggering scale, then."
"It was. Of the two hundred thousand nomad warriors, more than a hundred and fifty thousand perished, and two hundred thousand imperial soldiers died with them—a slaughter that truly made mountains of corpses and seas of blood."
Han Jo added in a flat, emotionless tone, "But the real tragedy came afterward. At the very height of the fighting, a great earthquake struck."
"An earthquake?"
"Yes. The quake twisted the gorge's terrain apart, and the hundreds of thousands of soldiers who survived—of both armies—were buried alive beneath the earth."
Zhuge Hui picked up the thread. "And in the aftermath, a legend was born of a gorge of vengeful spirits."
"What legend?"
"A realm of phantoms, where the vengeful souls of the buried, unable to escape, wander the deep places beneath the earth."
"Hundreds of thousands dead in one place... the name Valley of Lost Souls hardly seems out of place for Guimun Mountain." Brow furrowed, Qiangang pressed on. "Is that place connected to the serpent tattoo?"
Han Jo nodded and drew a small wooden case from his sleeve. When the lid opened, an iron tablet the size of a palm lay revealed, its surface finely embossed with the image of a serpent devouring its own tail. At the sight of it, the light in Qiangang's eyes sharpened.
"Where did you obtain this?"
Han Jo answered in his calm, level voice. "In a village called Ghost Valley Village, at the mouth of the Valley of Lost Souls."
"A village?"
"To be precise... in a village that had been wiped out."
Qiangang's expression hardened. Han Jo met his gaze squarely and went on.
"One month ago, reports reached us that a strange plague had broken out in Ghost Valley Village. But there was something odd about it."
"Odd how?"
"The corpses were not decaying. The Eastern Depot therefore began a covert investigation, and I was dispatched to the scene."
"And you found this tablet in that village?"
"Yes. In the village chief's house. The dead man was clutching it in his hand."
Qiangang glanced at the iron tablet. "A month ago, you say... so at the time you investigated, you had no way of knowing what it meant."
"That is correct. I took it for a mere personal effect of the chief's. However..." Han Jo's voice seemed to grow heavier. "While I was back at the palace delivering my report, His Majesty assigned me a new task—an order to support you, Young Master. Shortly after, I learned of the Myeonghwa Palace incident as well."
"That's when you noticed the connection?"
"Yes. I heard the account of the palace maid you interrogated at Myeonghwa Palace—the serpent devouring its tail inked on the wrist of the one who had cast the Soul-Capturing Art."
Qiangang nodded and turned to Pung So-cheong. "Then how did you become entangled in this, Branch Master Pung?"
A forlorn smile touched the woman's lips. "Our Hao Sect had an informant planted in Ghost Valley Village. He ran a small tavern there—and then one day, his reports simply stopped."
"So you went to see for yourself."
"I did. A few days ago I ran into Han Jo there... and at first we circled each other warily. I told him the government and the Murim each had their own business to mind, and then..." Pung So-cheong glanced at Han Jo as she continued. "This man was honest with me. Said he was investigating the serpent devouring its tail on the iron tablet, and that he needed the Hao Sect's help."
Qiangang's eyes deepened. "You realized at once the connection between Vice Envoy Han and myself?"
"Yes. Great Hero Yeom Pung asked me to look into the serpent tattoo, you see. And tracking the same quarry meant, in the end..."
"...that you would have to meet me," Qiangang finished for her.
Han Jo took up the words with an indifferent face. "His Majesty's command and the Hao Sect's investigation were pointed in the same direction. That is why Branch Master Pung and I have come together."
Ouyang Qiangang fell silent for a moment, sorting through the situation.
It seems we must.
Qiangang looked from one to the other. "Judging by your faces, there's something you've left unsaid. What is it?"
Han Jo and Pung So-cheong looked at each other. In their eyes was a plain reluctance to speak of something. Frowning, Qiangang studied them for a long moment before asking, "Is there... some problem more serious than what you've told me so far?"
Han Jo's expression darkened. He stared down at the iron tablet, then spoke in a heavy tone. "The truth is, there was something stranger than corpses that refused to rot."
Qiangang leaned forward. "What happened?"
"After concluding my first investigation, I returned to the palace. A few days later, I made my way back to Ghost Valley Village—on the chance that I had missed a clue." Han Jo paused, and his pupils wavered, ever so slightly. "But... when I reached the village, I could only stand there in shock."
"Because of what?"
"Not a single body remained."
Qiangang's eyes went wide. "I beg your pardon? What do you mean?"
"On my first investigation, upward of a hundred and some corpses lay scattered everywhere. Inside the houses, in the streets, beside the wells... the entire village was like one vast grave." Han Jo's voice sank colder still. "But on my second visit, I could not find so much as one."
"Could someone have buried them?"
Han Jo shook his head. "There was no graveyard anywhere in the vicinity. Burying a hundred-odd corpses would have required a mass burial site of considerable size..."
"You mean there wasn't even a trace?"
"None whatsoever. No torn-up earth, no freshly raised mounds—nothing to be seen."
"Is it possible the bodies were moved somewhere else?"
"That is why I searched the surrounding villages, but I found no one who had witnessed any such thing."
"Hmm..."
Han Jo went on. "Moving that many corpses is no small undertaking. It would take dozens of carts and days of labor, to say nothing of the scores of bearers required. That no one saw an operation on that scale simply does not add up."
Qiangang looked between the two of them. "So your investigation has reached a dead end."
Han Jo nodded. "There are no further leads to follow. This iron tablet is the sole piece of evidence."
Pung So-cheong wore a meaningful expression as she spoke. "But now that you are here, Young Master... perhaps you might see what we could not."
Ouyang Qiangang's eyes deepened.