The Serpent's Bait
In stark contrast to Bamboo Forest Manor, Hwa Clan Manor exuded an air of splendor and luxury. It stood some twenty li west of the Ouyang Clan Manor, in the estate-dense quarter along Nanchang's western thoroughfare. In sheer scale it was easily three times the size of Bamboo Forest Manor, and befitting the finest herbal merchant in all Nanchang, a rich medicinal fragrance hung over every corner of the grounds. Through its grand main gate, carts laden with herbs and merchants bent under heavy packs streamed in and out without pause.
Within the manor lord's office, Hwa Seok-dae, master of Hwa Clan Manor, sat facing a middle-aged man of cool, refined bearing, a saber of no small consequence laid across his knees.
The man was none other than Jin Mun, the Coiled Dragon Saber Guest—one of the Ten Great Saber Guests of Hubei and leader of the Coiled Dragon Saber Sect. He was also Hwa Do-reung's master, and though he looked the very picture of scholarly calm, he was notorious for his formidable martial arts and his deep, sinister cunning.
Hwa Seok-dae spoke, irritation written across his face.
"Damn it all! That old relic Heo Il-bi still hasn't made a single move."
A full day had passed since Hwa Do-reung's attempted abduction was thwarted, and with Bamboo Forest Manor showing no reaction whatsoever, Hwa Seok-dae was betraying his impatience. Jin Mun, however, merely smiled and took a leisurely sip of his tea.
"There is no need to be anxious, Lord Hwa. Heo Il-bi is by nature a man of extraordinary caution. The fact that he hasn't moved only means this affair has his head that much more tangled."
"Even so, we can't simply wait forever, can we?"
"Of course not. Which is precisely why we must throw him some bait."
As Jin Mun continued, his eyes glinted cold as a serpent's.
"We spread a rumor he cannot ignore. That 'Heo Il-bi of Bamboo Forest Manor is a coward who cowers in fear of Hwa Clan Manor even after his daughter was disgraced by a good-for-nothing.' For a man who prizes his honor like life itself, how could he possibly endure it?"
Hwa Seok-dae frowned, plainly reluctant.
"If a rumor like that gets out, Reung-ah's reputation will be ruined, and our own name will take a stain as well."
Jin Mun shook his head.
"Reung-ah's reputation is already in ruins—there is nowhere left for it to fall. And a slight scratch on Hwa Clan Manor's name is nothing beside the enormous gains we stand to reap by swallowing Bamboo Forest Manor whole. If anything, the louder the rumor grows, the more it stokes Heo Il-bi's fury, and that works in our favor."
"Works in our favor? What do you mean?"
Jin Mun answered, his eyes turning bleak and cold.
"Once the rumor spreads and the affair swells, you step forward in person and declare: 'My son Hwa Do-reung committed this foolish act out of his longing for the young lady Heo Cho-ryeong, and Hwa Clan Manor will bear full responsibility.' Then, as a token of that responsibility, you propose a marriage between our two houses."
He paused for a beat, then added with a chilling smile:
"And that you will offer ten thousand taels of silver as a gift of apology."
Hwa Seok-dae's eyes went wide.
"Ten thousand taels? Have you lost your mind?"
Ten thousand taels of silver was enough to buy ten thousand seok of rice.
"Of course—you need only say the words. Not a coin of that sum will ever actually change hands."
Having calmed Hwa Seok-dae, Jin Mun pressed on.
"Heo Il-bi will never accept the offer. To him it would be nothing short of an insult. He will rage and demand that we hand Reung-ah over."
"Knowing that man's temper, he'll do that and more."
"That is when you propose a duel. 'A child's sins are the father's to answer for. If I lose this duel, you may dispose of Do-reung as you see fit.'"
Hwa Seok-dae asked again, the unease not quite gone from his face.
"But what if Heo Il-bi refuses even the duel?"
"For that, we have another piece of bait."
Jin Mun's voice dropped lower still.
"You are aware, are you not, Lord Hwa, that Bamboo Forest Manor has of late been secretly purchasing medicinal herbs in enormous quantities?"
"I am. I'd been wondering why a family that isn't even an herb merchant would be buying up so much."
"Then you will buy up all of those herbs yourself. There is no need to hide it—on the contrary, do it loudly and openly, while at the same time sealing off every one of Bamboo Forest Manor's supply channels. Heo Il-bi will launch an investigation, and he will learn that Hwa Clan Manor has been hoarding the herbs. That is when you propose the duel a second time."
Jin Mun's eyes flashed.
"You tell him: 'If I lose the duel, not only shall you dispose of young master Hwa Do-reung as you please, but every herb I have bought will be handed over to Bamboo Forest Manor as well.' A wager with his own interests staked on the line—Heo Il-bi will never be able to refuse it."
Hwa Seok-dae marveled at the scheme.
"As expected of the sect leader. What a magnificent stratagem."
"All you need do, Lord Hwa, is prepare the dueling ground. As for Heo Il-bi—I, Jin Mun, will face him personally and grind him underfoot, bit by bit, until he can never rise again."
Absolute confidence rang in Jin Mun's voice. The story Hwa Do-reung had told him about Ouyang Qiangang did flicker through his mind, but he dismissed it at once.
Once Heo Il-bi falls, a young chit and a sickly whelp will pose no obstacle at all.
He smiled inwardly as he thought of his lord and master—that one in Hubei Province. All of this was merely a single opening stone laid in preparation for that person's grand design.
After a moment's deliberation, Hwa Seok-dae reached his decision.
"Very well. We shall do as Sect Leader Jin proposes."
If things unfolded according to Jin Mun's stratagem, then not only Bamboo Forest Manor but the whole of Nanchang's commerce would fall into their hands—it seemed only a matter of time. Hwa Seok-dae believed, without a shred of doubt, that he was now walking the road to even greater wealth and power.
Chang'an, Shaanxi Province. At the heart of this place, where all the wealth and power under heaven converged, stood Gold Pagoda Mountain Manor, home to one of the Five Great Tycoon families of the merchant world. Built upon grounds spanning hundreds of acres, the manor was a great city unto itself. A smoothly polished bluestone avenue ran through its heart, flanked on either side by lofty towers and grand pavilions stretching on without end. The wind flowing along the bluestone brushed the tiles of the ancient buildings with a low, hollow sound, while sunlight glanced off the flagstones, throwing off a soft, muted gleam.
Down that avenue walked a middle-aged man at an unhurried pace. Draped in a black robe, he was Cai Wencheng, head of Gold Pagoda Mountain Manor's secret intelligence organization, Spider Blood.
A short while later, Cai Wencheng arrived at the inner hall that lay in the manor's deepest reaches. This was Dong Hyeon-do's personal sanctum—forbidden ground no one could set foot in without his leave.
The interior of the hall seemed to hold all the wealth of the world gathered into a single place. The floor was paved with obsidian polished clear as a mirror, and the air was heavy with priceless, top-grade agarwood incense. Every piece of furniture was an artwork carved from rare timber, and upon the wall hung a landscape painting by the finest artist of the age. At the center of it all sat a man, leisurely sipping his tea.
Half-white hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and the face of a kindly, gentle-natured gentleman. But the eyes visible above the rim of his raised teacup were cold as a frozen lake. This was none other than the lord of Gold Pagoda Mountain Manor, Dong Hyeon-do.
As always, Cai Wencheng bowed low, careful to maintain just the right measure of tension.
"Begin your report."
At Dong Hyeon-do's words—soft, yet resonant with hidden depth—Cai Wencheng opened his mouth.
"Lord Dong, it has been nearly a month since Ouyang Qiangang took up residence at Bamboo Forest Manor. Aside from the occasional stroll through Nanchang with Heo Il-bi's daughter, Heo Cho-ryeong, he remains shut away in the detached villa and never once stirs out."
Dong Hyeon-do set down his teacup.
"He lingers too long in Nanchang. Is it his illness, or is there some other reason?"
"His health improved for a spell and he set out on this excursion, but he does not appear to be exerting himself. If I may speak candidly, I believe his illness may have worsened once more, leaving him tethered to Bamboo Forest Manor."
"I suppose that's to be expected. Nine Yin Severed Meridians is a punishment handed down by Heaven itself—an incurable affliction, hopeless unless one meets the Sacred Hand Hua Tuo."
Having murmured this quietly, Dong Hyeon-do continued in an offhand tone.
"That boy must die in the end. Only then can Cheon-gi become head of the family, and only then can the plan be brought to completion."
Cai Wencheng bowed his head.
"Ouyang Qiangang will die of the Nine Yin Severed Meridians. And in preparation for every eventuality, I have already taken all measures necessary to ensure that the calamity of the Sacred Hand Hua Tuo and Gu-yang Baek ever meeting does not come to pass."
Dong Hyeon-do nodded and asked,
"And the Ten Thousand Year Jade Casket? Has the boy shown any sign of finding something?"
"No movement of any significance related to it has been detected thus far."
Cai Wencheng ventured further, his tone carefully cautious.
"Might I be told what it is Ouyang Qiangang is meant to find in the casket? Knowing that would sharpen the watchers' focus considerably."
Dong Hyeon-do's answer was brief and absolute.
"You have no need to know."
"Understood."
Cai Wencheng folded the question away at once. Dong Hyeon-do allowed his subordinates to voice any opinion freely, but the line was drawn with unmistakable clarity. When he severed a conversation in that manner, that was the line—and crossing it was a step one took only with death in mind.
"And Yeon-hwa?"
As he spoke his daughter's name—Dong Yeon-hwa—not a shred of emotion colored Dong Hyeon-do's voice.
"Your daughter has been diligent with her periodic reports. Nothing out of the ordinary."
Dong Hyeon-do nodded, satisfied. Setting down his teacup, he said in an even tone.
"Keep Gu-yang Baek and Ouyang Qiangang under thorough surveillance. Not even the change of a single hair may escape your notice. And should anything strike you as the least bit strange, report it at once."
"Yes, Lord Dong!"
Even after Cai Wencheng withdrew, Dong Hyeon-do gazed out the window for some time.
There is, without question, a piece of the Treasure Map within the Ouyang Clan Manor. And Gu-yang Baek knows where it lies.
Deep in his eyes, flames smoldered and leapt upward.
Son-in-law, you may kick and struggle to keep it hidden, but alas for you, time is on my side. The Ouyang Clan could fall tomorrow and no one would bat an eye—but I am eternal.
Dong Hyeon-do's time flowed in step with his clan.
Past midnight, in the deep of night, the detached villa of Bamboo Forest Manor lay sunk in stillness. In his lampless room, Ouyang Qiangang had just completed a cycle of qi circulation and breath regulation through the Transcendent Peerless Divine Art. Since perfecting his ever-active circulation system, his internal energy had been deepening—slowly, but with steady, unbroken persistence.
"Hoooh..."
It was the very moment Ouyang Qiangang, exhaling a long breath, was about to open his eyes—
Thud—
A faint sound of something heavy collapsing outside burrowed into his ears. What was that? A beast? Or merely something the wind had brought down? Had Hwang Nodae been there, he would already have gone to investigate, but the old attendant was not at Bamboo Forest Manor just now—he had left to keep watch on those coming and going from Hwa Clan Manor.
Ouyang Qiangang rose from his seat and stepped outside, cautiously making his way toward the perimeter wall. Beneath it, in the shadow of the bamboo, an old man lay collapsed, soaked in blood. The old man's eyes were clouded, but he had not yet lost consciousness, it seemed, for he fixed a wary gaze on Ouyang Qiangang.
As their eyes met, a light kindled in Ouyang Qiangang's own. Hair white as fresh snow, and a long white beard spilling down to his chest. He wore a tattered hemp robe, his face and the breast of his garment drenched crimson—yet even so, the old man's bearing fell not a whit short of the air of an immortal and the bones of a Daoist.
The old man gave a wry smile and forced his mouth open.
"I was being pursued, and grew too desperate... I have committed a grave discourtesy. Pretend you never saw me. If the ones hunting me catch so much as a glimpse... you too will be unable to escape a calamity that costs a man his life..."
His words broke off at intervals, utterly drained of strength.
In response, Ouyang Qiangang approached with a calm expression and sank to one knee.
"Elder, your condition looks grave. At the very least, allow me to take your pulse."
He brought his fingertips naturally to the old man's wrist. The instant his hand made contact, Akasha's voice resounded through his mind.
"Doctor, the subject's condition is extremely critical. A powerful, anomalous yin-cold energy has infiltrated the region around his heart meridian and is rapidly devouring his life force. This is no ordinary external wound."
So he was no ordinary man after all.
Ouyang Qiangang was startled inwardly, but outwardly he kept his composure. The old man spoke again.
"Pay me no mind... The ones pursuing me are... very dangerous people. So hurry inside and bolt your door tight."
Even in such a state, he worried for a stranger before himself. Ouyang Qiangang hesitated no longer and made up his mind.
He seems like a good man—I can't simply leave him to die. And it looks as though I may well be able to mend the internal injury that yin-cold energy has dealt him...