I Am Wronged

"I'm wronged."

"Everyone hauled in here says the exact same thing."

The brute had surrendered without a fight, allowing the soldiers to subdue him easily without suffering any casualties of their own. That said, the lack of harm to the military didn't mean there'd been zero damage to civilians.

"Aigoo, aigoo. People are gonna die."

"What the hell is the country coming to? How does a madman like that even get his hands on a cannon?"

Everyone could tell at a glance they were martial artists—loudly cursing and grumbling at the man who'd been ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dragged in, his rough demeanor on full display. He looked fine enough on the surface, though? But thanks to those guys desperately trying to bluff their way through, this incident was tangled up with the jianghu, forcing them to rack their brains over the judgment.

Her gaze shifted to the report on the shelf.

To sum it up: Some time ago, a quarrel had broken out in the marketplace between these martial artists and a hulking brute. Unable to hold back his rage, the brute had blasted a cannon straight at their lodging, blowing the pillars to smithereens.

...What the hell is this?

It was a story so absurd, you'd struggle to believe it even in a novel.

But since she'd witnessed the scene firsthand, she had no choice but to accept it as fact and deliver a realistic verdict. The silver lining? Zhejiang Province had no major martial sects. ...If it was just these small-time outfits, they could probably smooth things over with a good settlement.

"Shut your traps, you thug bastards who couldn't even pass the military exam and are just swinging swords for scraps."

"What'd you just say, you son of a bitch?!"

But that seemed like a pipe dream. The brute had been cooperative with the soldiers, yet the moment he spotted the martial artists, he lunged like a rabid dog.

Watching them raise each other's boiling points, Hyejin crossed her arms, wondering just how far the government's authority had plummeted to let them act this way.

"You lot—do you have any idea where you are? His Excellency the—ahem. The General is watching you with eyes like daggers. Do you want your heads rolling right here?!"

Wi Eokgi, who'd been quietly observing her expression from the side, bellowed the moment he saw wrinkles forming on her brow. The room finally quieted a bit at his shout. No matter how rough or belligerent these martial artists were, the threat of losing their heads was still terrifying.

Whew. Already swamped with pirates and now bandits stirring up trouble—what the hell was this? But she couldn't just brush it off as too busy; this was a pretty serious case. Martial artists causing trouble wasn't new. The problem... was that hulking brute.

How did he lug around and fire that monstrously heavy Hyunja Chongtong with his bare hands? If she hadn't seen it herself, she never would've believed it to the end. More than that—where the hell did he even get his hands on a cannon like that? They'd confiscated it, but it was so huge and heavy that the soldiers who'd hauled it to the yamen without a cart on short notice were whining about muscle pain.

The Ming imperial family strictly controlled gunpowder production, distribution, and use from start to finish. Firing it openly in public? No sane person would pull that off. They knew it well, too—which was why, even ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠though they'd swung swords at civilians, the brute's cannon stunt had left such a deep impression that these sly martial artists were strutting around full of themselves.

"Your Excellency—ahem. No, General. Here's the report on the incident involving that brute."

Zing. After nearly slipping up and calling her "Princess" yet again, Wi Eokgi corrected himself hastily under her side-eye. The inspection captain who'd been attending her read out the freshly prepared document right in front of her.

What an odd fellow. The jianghu was full of eccentric, rotten personalities, but he didn't seem like one of them. If he were, there would've been military casualties when they subdued him—and he'd be facing severe punishment right now, sparing her the headache.

"Yujin, was it? How did you end up drifting all the way to Zhejiang Province?"

The distance between Hebei and Zhejiang was no short hop. Naturally, she was curious about that before diving into the investigation. Of course, after reading the prior report, she had a rough idea. Still, a few details sparked her curiosity and doubt about him. Finally lifting his head, his rugged build contrasted with a surprisingly honest face. He looked about her age—another unexpected twist.

"It's a long story."

A long story? What kind of story? Even without her true identity as the imperial princess, her current role as admiral and general of a province commanded respect. Yet this guy hadn't shrunk back at all, speaking his mind freely from the start. Normally, she'd be pissed—but for some reason, he piqued her interest.

"You bastard! Do you know where you are, talking so curtly?!"

Her retainers saw things differently. Maybe they mistook her thoughtful frown for anger and started yelling in her stead.

"Enough. A long story, eh? I'm curious. Can you tell it?"

With the vice-general handling fieldwork, she had some breathing room. She wanted to hear him out. Clearing the room, she listened intently to his tale.

"Well, see..."

But she hadn't anticipated just how long his story would drag on—like someone, somewhere in his lineage.

*

His body was covered in scars testifying to his trials and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tribulations, his clothes torn and filthy with dirt and blood. But his spirit bore even deeper wounds.

Yet his eyes burned straight and proud, proving his unbowed resolve. The world, however, was cruel. More often than not, who did what and where mattered more than right or wrong.

The false charges pinned on him branded him a complete villain, slowly driving him toward death.

Snippets of gossip from onlookers reached his ears.

"That problem child from the Pang family finally went and messed with a girl from the Namgung household!"

"Tried to rape her, ignoring his place? Unbelievable."

Go on, yap all you want. Others' glares meant nothing anymore. He'd built up immunity to the negativity.

But then...

"...Th-that... I, Yujin..."

'Yeona, look me in the eyes and speak straight. That's the only way to get through this clean.'

The bastard hugged her tight, whispering in her ear before turning with a nauseating smirk. His expression oozed sadistic glee at toying with someone. It wasn't hard to sense he'd orchestrated this drama—especially since the girl he'd loved and trusted most was now pointing a blade of betrayal at him. Instinct screamed he was the mastermind.

'It couldn't be helped. You're not bad. This could even make things easier. All your suffering? It's from that guy's incompetence, right?'

He caught her gaze flicking bottom-left. Having watched her for years, he knew her tells: unconscious habits when lying or forcing herself.

"...Th-that man... threatened and intimidated me every day. Hoo... J-just because we'd been close since childhood, he demanded these absurd... hng... acts, like I was his woman or something."

She squeezed her eyes shut, reciting like a scripted line—unnatural as hell. A hollow chuckle escaped him. He'd thought himself numb to pain, but betrayal straight to his face? A whole different level. The last pillar in his heart snapped.

That support—despite harsh conditions and lack of talent—had kept him pushing forward. Now it was gone, not fading slowly with disappointment, but doused like a flame, leaving a permanent scar.

"I hate you."

Why? It's not true. She probably knew it too. Her flinching under his gaze screamed self-loathing—and she believed it herself. But the crowd didn't care.

"Th-that filthy piece of trash."

"Told you. Character matches skill. That punk's bad seed showed early."

"Not a Demonic Cultist, and he dares try that? Check if his eyes are red—possessed maybe!"

Her lie flipped the switch; everyone gathered wanted him villainized. Deep down, they knew he lacked the guts or power—but that didn't stop them.

"I hate everyone."

Differences in aptitude aside, he'd believed hard work would pay off eventually. But hopes and efforts crumbled into bubbles and betrayal. Cursing his worthless body that couldn't even gather a scrap of neigong.

"I hate this world."

Hated being born into it. Pushed to the absolute brink, he shut his eyes and chose.

Choice? With seconds left, it was forced on him. No time for thoughts—just brutal reality.

His only option as a powerless man: he seized it without hesitation. Better to end it than drag through endless agony. Heavy decision, but his face looked relieved. At the cliff's edge with nowhere left, he relaxed and leaned back.

Body tilting over the void, he plummeted endlessly.

Whoooosh.

Thousand Hands Cliff, Hangzhou's famed spectacle and one of the great wonders, boasted terrifying height. Plunging through empty air for ages, Yujin's vision filled not with a life flashing by, but nature's beauty.

"Beautiful."

Such peace felt long lost. If only he'd lived seeing only beauty—but the choice was made, irreversible, unwanted. Regret: at least once, standing up to those who'd wronged him? Spilling those lingering thoughts on past events.

As the fall neared its end—whoa—he uttered a final sigh of pure admiration, then splash! Waves sprayed as he was swept into the surf.

Summer brought peak coastal swells and currents. Even the toughest body was helpless against nature's fury.

"...Jin... ...Yujin!"

Her belated scream reached him, but his face held no emotion—not lingering attachment to the world, but total surrender. His vision slowly drowned in seawater.