The Coincidence That Changes the Situation (1)
"Ah! Commander?"
After spending several days in maintenance and exchanging various conversations with Moyong Woo, it seemed the title "Commander" had stuck in Muk Bi's mouth more firmly than "Young Master Yeon."
"You've returned."
"Yes."
Yeon Hojeong's face appeared somewhat tired.
It didn't look as though he had fought any battles, yet the exhaustion in his eyes alone made him seem like a man returning from a hundred wars. It spoke of how heavy his mental fatigue must have been.
"Did everything go well with what you set out to do?"
"Not badly."
"That's a relief. You must have worked hard."
"Thank you."
"Rest for now."
"No. There's something I must do before resting."
Yeon Hojeong headed straight for the Tangma Army's quarters.
The enormous estate secured through the Beggars' Sect's efforts was large enough to house both the Myeolsa Army and the Tangma Army with room to spare. Of course, had the Tangma Army not suffered losses in combat strength, it would have felt rather cramped.
"Commander?"
Moyong Woo, who had been directing training, lowered his sword and approached. Surprise flickered across his face.
"Is your business concluded?"
"It is."
Moyong Woo turned and shouted behind him.
"All troops, assemble!"
The scattered Tangma Army soldiers instantly gathered and formed ranks.
Unlike the rather free-spirited atmosphere of the Myeolsa Army, the Tangma Army moved with strict precision. The discipline suited Moyong Woo perfectly.
Yeon Hojeong spoke calmly.
"Stand at ease."
Even at Moyong Woo's command, the soldiers did not relax their posture. Their rigidly military gazes simply softened into the eyes of weary men.
Moyong Woo smiled as he asked.
"Did the matter resolve well?"
"Well enough. It seems we'll need to remain here for the time being."
"I see."
Moyong Woo did not press for details.
Yeon Hojeong asked.
"Where is it?"
Though sudden, Moyong Woo understood him at once.
"I will guide you."
"Good."
In truth, there was little need for guidance. Fifty paces from the Tangma Army's training ground stood a large altar densely packed with countless memorial tablets.
Yeon Hojeong approached the altar and quietly surveyed the tablets.
More than two hundred of them had been crafted at half the size of standard tablets. They had needed to be reduced to fit upon the altar.
After staring at them for a long time, Yeon Hojeong knelt and lit incense.
Moyong Woo stood close by, while the Tangma Army soldiers remained lined up at a distance, their eyes fixed upon him.
After the incense was lit, Yeon Hojeong sat down heavily and gazed up at the tablets.
Moyong Woo opened his mouth.
"Commander."
"Go and do what you must."
"Pardon?"
"Weren't you in the middle of training? Finish it. Pay me no mind."
"......Understood."
Moyong Woo returned to the training ground and ordered the Tangma Army back into formation.
"We begin again from the central formation!"
"Yes!"
Thus Moyong Woo and the Tangma Army immersed themselves in training once more.
Meanwhile, Yeon Hojeong carefully examined each name inscribed upon the tablets.
So many.
There truly were a great number of dead subordinates.
He had known the Tangma Army possessed many personnel, yet the reality struck him anew. Far too many subordinates had died.
It had been their first deployment since merging into the Uijeong Army. Given the mission's nature, he had expected casualties. In fact, casualties would have been inevitable in any mission.
Yet there was one thing for which Yeon Hojeong felt sorry toward them.
Your deaths were not meaningless. But if I had not let that bastard escape, none of you would have died.
The place where he had first encountered Sama Hyeon.
Of the two who had ambushed that location—Yayul Jeok and So Bang—the one who absolutely had to be captured was Yayul Jeok.
Of course, the person more deeply tied to the Saeum Sect was So Bang. That much was evident from the mere existence of the Blood Yin Demonic Qi and the Blood Yin Palm.
However, for the peace of Guangdong Province, Yayul Jeok took precedence over So Bang. Capturing him came first; So Bang would follow.
Yeon Hojeong had missed that. Sama Hyeon's sudden action? The failure to foresee it had been his own. In the end, allowing Yayul Jeok to escape had been his mistake.
That mistake had claimed the lives of two hundred subordinates.
Truly... it is never easy.
Even during his days as the Black Dark Emperor, he had lost countless subordinates.
Some claimed that while the shock of losing close associates, subordinates, or superiors was immense, repeated exposure gradually dulled the pain.
Yeon Hojeong was different.
Both then and now.
The experience of losing subordinates was something that could never become familiar. He had simply grown better at maintaining a stoic expression and more adept at concealing a heart that felt torn apart. The depth of the pain only grew heavier with time.
In the future, how many more subordinates will I lose?
As a unit commander, such experiences were his fate.
How many subordinates' names must this small head of mine carry?
Every time a subordinate died, Yeon Hojeong memorized every one of their names.
It held no particularly grand meaning. The dead do not speak. They can neither help nor harm, for one cannot know what they desire.
The only thing Yeon Hojeong could do for them was to never forget their names until the day he himself died.
From his days ruling the Black Emperor Castle as the Black Dark Emperor until now, the names of tens of thousands of subordinates were engraved in his mind. He remembered which organization or department within the Black Emperor Castle they had belonged to and what duties they had performed.
He had wanted to remember.
To ensure the dead did not die a second time, Yeon Hojeong, as the leader who commanded them, refused to let their names be forgotten. He knew that true death came in the moment one was forgotten by all.
I know you wrote wills before marching out. I dare to guess that my name was not among those written. If so, the only thing I can do for you is remember you.
After gazing at the tablets for a long while, Yeon Hojeong moved his lips faintly.
Having completed the Four Gods True Qi, his mental capacity operated on an entirely different level from that of ordinary men. Beyond matters of application or creativity, the sheer volume of his mind was optimized for storing information.
That was why Yeon Hojeong never bothered committing useless knowledge to memory.
The reason he had known nothing of the Four Emperors or the secret elixirs of each sect was simply that he had never tried to remember them in the first place.
Instead, his head was packed densely with countless names.
And those many names constantly presented him with an inescapable sense of responsibility.
Yeon Hojeong closed his eyes.
With eyes closed, he murmured the names of the subordinates stored in his mind over and over. He repeated them until the moment he needed to recall them required no hesitation whatsoever—so that if asked who that subordinate had been, the name would emerge instantly without the slightest pause.
In that manner, Yeon Hojeong memorized his subordinates' names.
Even when night fell, Yeon Hojeong did not leave the spot. When dawn broke the following day, he remained.
Three days passed like that.
At first the Tangma Army soldiers had watched him with confused eyes, but as time went on, worry and emotion filled them.
Was it performative? For someone of his caliber, such pretense was unnecessary. He was a man who would not act against his true feelings even with a blade at his throat.
Still, as a leader, it was only proper to at least feign sorrow before the surviving subordinates. That was what the soldiers had thought, and how they had initially interpreted his behavior.
They had been wrong.
For three full days, Yeon Hojeong did not take a single sip of water. He did not sleep. With eyes closed, he ceaselessly recited the names of the dead soldiers.
It was not an act that could be called performative. Such mourning was not easy even for blood kin, let alone those who were not.
On the third day.
As the Tangma Army's training drew to a close, Yeon Hojeong rose from his position.
Even a supreme expert of the world would stagger after suddenly standing following three days in the same posture. Moreover, Yeon Hojeong had not consumed even a drop of water.
Yet his stance showed no tremor whatsoever.
Though far more haggard and noticeably thinner than three days prior, his eyes had grown deeper and calmer.
Watching him, Moyong Woo struck the ground with his sword sheath.
Thud. Thud.
The entire Tangma Army formed perfect ranks.
It was the same place and same posture as three days earlier. However, the eyes looking at Yeon Hojeong had changed completely.
Without even glancing back at them, Yeon Hojeong walked toward his quarters.
At that moment, Moyong Woo spoke.
"Commander."
Yeon Hojeong stopped and turned silently to look at him.
Moyong Woo smiled and asked.
"Do you have any separate orders to give?"
After gazing quietly at Moyong Woo, Yeon Hojeong glanced at the soldiers and said.
"Don't die."
The moment the words left his mouth, the entire Tangma Army bowed their heads.
"We obey!"
Their voices rang out like thunder, shaking the entire estate.
Yeon Hojeong gave a small chuckle and resumed walking.
Even after he disappeared, the Tangma Army remained bowed for a long time. Not one of them attempted to straighten.
It was respect.
There had been no eloquent words, nor had he seized them with overwhelming dignity. Yet Yeon Hojeong's actions had drawn genuine emotion and loyalty from them.
Sometimes actions could convey intentions more clearly than words, free of misunderstanding.
Though he had not acted with that purpose, the Tangma Army saw in Yeon Hojeong another leader worthy of their long-term service.
"Stand at ease."
Only after Moyong Woo's command did the Tangma Army straighten their backs.
"Training ends here for today. All of you return and rest."
"Yes."
The Tangma Army dispersed quietly.
On the path back to his quarters, Yeon Hojeong mulled over the names of his dead subordinates when he suddenly looked up at the sky.
Whoosh.
Unlike typical Guangdong weather, today was quite dry. The cool breeze made walking pleasant.
And in that sky, a long cloud writhed like a single dragon.
Yeon Hojeong's pupils dilated.
The Yellow Dragon.
"I'll visit soon. After all, you won't leave until you've seen Guangdong properly set right, will you? Let us meet again in a few days."
"Let me ask you one thing."
"Ask anything you like."
"Why are the high monks of Buddhism so obsessed with immortality? Setting aside whether such a method exists, is it not an undesirable action for those who have devoted their bodies to the Buddhist law?"
"Haha, it may appear that way. No, if one thinks deeply, your words are not wrong."
"You're doing it even though you know that?"
"If it is a sin, then it is a sin. However, the secret of immortality likely shares something in common with the secret of reincarnation. We are merely attempting to approach it from an academic perspective."
"Will it truly end as mere academic pursuit?"
"It must."
Frowning as he gazed at the sky with deep eyes, Yeon Hojeong muttered.
"Life can only be fierce because it happens once, you stupid bald monks. Immortality, reincarnation—none of it matters. If someone simply remembers my name, that is enough."