Chapter 89
Chapter 89
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: uly
Chapter: 89
Chapter Title: Ancient Clan's Martial Prodigy
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Won-yeong doubted his own ears.
"You're joking, right?"
"Is that how it sounded?"
"Does Prince Chu need bodyguards? The Guizhou Province where he resides is a living hell that even the Imperial Guard and the Demonic Cultists can't set foot in."
Guizhou Province was also known as Ghost State. The name meant "village of ghosts." It was a nickname born during the late Yuan Dynasty when all sorts of demons and monsters had swarmed the area. The damage had been especially severe due to the region's heavy yin energy.
After the realm was unified under the Ming Dynasty, countless yokai were exterminated, but Guizhou alone was the exception. Eerie, demonic entities still roamed freely there.
There were even hordes of them claiming territories nearby, treating humans like mere livestock.
In response, the court dispatched Prince Chu, one of the imperial clan's most exceptionally talented dragon sons, breaking the convention that regional kings could not leave their fiefs.
The measure proved effective. Prince Chu, leading his elite troops, had splendidly kept Guizhou's monstrosities in check to this day.
Yang Jung-ui spoke with a grave expression.
"We've received intelligence. Both the Imperial Guard and the Demonic Cultists are targeting Prince Chu. Of course, he's surrounded by outstanding elites, but lending a hand now to earn his favor isn't a bad idea."
"Those bastards are poking the hornet's nest on purpose? Have they all gone mad?"
"Do you think they're the type to value their lives? The key is the reason. What could compel them to risk it all and stir up that nest?"
Yang Jung-ui asked indifferently. In stark contrast, Won-yeong sighed in utter exasperation.
The Demonic Cultists and the Imperial Guard. Both were ominous groups fraught with complications. And now a mission that might pit him against both? If he could, he'd pay a fortune to avoid it.
"From what you've said, it doesn't seem like something we need to get involved in."
"This isn't the time to indulge your whining. The higher-ups want to gauge Re-cheon's capabilities. Especially with the Zhejiang Yuk Clan succession issue on the table."
"Wasn't the bloody battle in Shandong and this recent mission enough?"
Yang Jung-ui shook his head.
"Not enough. It surpasses the qualifications for a Five Harmony Alliance plaque bearer. But as a candidate for the Zhejiang Yuk Clan's heir? They need to see if he possesses the qualities to overturn the primogeniture principle."
"......"
"Details will be shared at the upcoming assembly. For now, just keep it in mind. How the higher-ups view Re-cheon. And what role they plan to assign him going forward."
Early in the morning, a steward from the Grand Steward's Office arrived with a message. He was summoned for a settlement of accounts.
Yuk Jin-yang skipped breakfast and hurried out of his lodgings. Upon reaching the Grand Steward's Office, a gate guard posed the formal question.
"What brings you here?"
"I was summoned. Something about settling accounts."
The guard's eyes flicked to the identity token at his waist. He noted the name in the visitor log and stepped aside without fuss.
Despite the early hour, the main hall was packed. Desks were arrayed in orderly rows, with clerks seated and handling official duties.
The room, scented faintly with ink, buzzed with noise. The scratch of brushes, the dip of ink, and voices all blended together.
It resembled a mine or forge more than an office. No trace of scholarly refinement—just the weary exhaustion of those locked in battle with stacks of documents.
"What of the news from Sichuan?"
"Impossible. Guizhou takes priority now. Leave it to the Zhuge family for the time being."
"The Uwen Clan has sent word. They'll join King Lian directly."
"Approved. Have them link up with the Hongnong Yang Clan en route. Sound out the Nongxi Yi as well."
Yuk Jin-yang subtly perked up his ears to eavesdrop on the clerks' talk. It was a chance to glean trends from across the realm he wasn't privy to.
"After a thousand years, who would've thought? The Uwen, Yang, and Li clans of the Eight Western Wei Provinces reuniting in the north."
"With the four great houses assembled, anything could happen! Cut the chatter and sort those letters. Hey, you! No report from Zhili yet?"
"Urgent bulletin here too. They're determined to escort every last regional king to the capital by palanquin. The Imperial Guard's mobilizing. Even Prince Chu in Guizhou won't be spared."
"Send word to His Highness first. What are the court ministers doing? Are they insane? Who'll handle that post if they pull him from Guizhou?"
The clerks exchanged views in a frenzy. Brushes flew across paper as swiftly as a swordmaster's blade.
Yuk Jin-yang shuffled awkwardly nearby. The atmosphere made it impossible to grab anyone for his business.
Fortunately, amid the chaos, someone spotted him.
"Ah, Young Hero Yuk! My apologies. Please, come this way."
It was Kwak Man, the Grand Steward's clerk he'd met during the alliance initiation. Looking apologetic, he led Yuk Jin-yang to a small side room off the office.
The room felt cramped despite its size, due to the shelves and cabinets lining the walls.
The two sat across a low table. Kwak Man apologized again.
"Sorry for summoning you to this mess. I should have come to you, but duties piled up suddenly—no time to spare."
"So, what did you need me for?"
"Your exploits have drawn the attention of many in the alliance. Your merits are quite dazzling."
Kwak Man didn't stop at praise; he listed Yuk Jin-yang's achievements in detail. Hearing his deeds from Shandong to Huguang and Wunhyeon recounted by another felt oddly embarrassing.
"Division Leader Geon-ryeong has granted compensation for them. As a personal commendation."
He added that it was commonplace, especially generous for young later-generation talents to encourage them.
"What sort of compensation?"
"I'll explain while showing you."
Kwak Man rose, opened a cabinet drawer, and pulled out small wooden plaques. He handed one over and continued.
"These are passes to the Armaments Depot and the Arsenal. You can commission a custom weapon fitted to your hand or browse and select from pre-made ones."
That wasn't all. He laid out more plaques.
"A warhorse and a spirit beast for messenger duty have been assigned, plus discretionary stipend funds. A silver note for a thousand taels from the Kaifeng Jade Treasury. Show these at the alliance stables for the horse and beast."
Aside from the silver, all were mission essentials. Yuk Jin-yang asked,
"Can the note be exchanged directly for cash?"
"Of course. If you have a preferred treasury, we can forward it there."
After a brief think, Yuk Jin-yang decided to keep a portion and ship the rest to the Fujian branch.
While staying at the alliance, he lacked for nothing money-wise. Sending it to the Flying Stream Pavilion branch in Fujian Province would prove far more useful.
But the best news was separate.
"Your promotion has been approved."
Yuk Jin-yang widened his eyes, freely showing his emotions.
He knew the alliance's promotion system well. Much like initiation, it was exceedingly rigorous.
Verification through missions, then completing assigned tasks even after qualification. No wonder many warriors lingered at plaque or division levels for over a decade.
"Does that mean a separate promotion exam?"
"No. That would be peacetime protocol. Nothing beats a spar for the amusement of honored guests. But these are wartime conditions. Your promotion exam is waived in favor of missions."
"Is the mission assigned?"
Kwak Man shook his head.
"Now that you're under Division Leader Geon-ryeong, I dare not interfere with assignments. I'm just handling settlements—see your superior."
"Understood."
Yuk Jin-yang stood. As Kwak Man saw him off, he added,
"No rush on the mission. Take some time to relax. Especially visit the Armaments Depot. It'll broaden your horizons."
"Really?"
"The realm's foremost master craftsmen are there. They rival even the imperial workshops."
Yuk Jin-yang started in surprise.
"The wild artisans in the alliance match imperial craftsmen?"
The imperial workshops crafted everything from armaments to rare garments and curios for the court.
The world's famed swords mostly came from there. Awarded blades were called "Palace Swords."
Of course, the jianghu had its share of skilled smiths. Legends like Gan Jiang, Mo Ye, and Ou Yezi attested to that.
But over time, their numbers dwindled in the jianghu. Ambitious smiths yearned to join the imperial workshops for the superior treatment.
Kwak Man tilted his head curiously.
"Not so surprising. I hear your clan's lady mother was a smith herself."
"Is that so? News to me."
Yuk Jin-yang replied calmly. He knew little of his stepmother. Sensing he'd touched a nerve, Kwak Man quickly elaborated to change the subject.
"Not all alliance craftsmen are jianghu folk. They prioritize official artisans from the bureaus. And they recruit retired imperial smiths too."
"I see."
Yuk Jin-yang was struck anew by the court's shadow over the alliance. How else could a mere jianghu faction amass such talents?
'Silver Dew is a fine sword, but...'
He fiddled idly with the blade at his waist. The sword, a gift from his uncle, had become like an extension of his hand.
Yet after fierce battles, its edge was considerably nicked. Entrusting it for refinishing and grabbing a spare wasn't a bad idea.
As if reading his mind, Kwak Man suggested casually,
"If you'd like, I can guide you. The headquarters is vast—you might get lost."
"Didn't you say you were swamped?"
"Haha, duties have priorities."
No sooner had he spoken than the sliding door rattled open. Clerks stood beyond, glaring sharply.
"Hey, Kwak Man. Urgent matters everywhere—where do you think you're going?"
"Priorities, eh? Fine words from someone slacking off."
"Finish your work here first if you want to leave. Might not wrap up by tonight."
Kwak Man's face drained of color. Colleagues' arms snaked out to grab him. Yuk Jin-yang turned away from the pleading gaze. He couldn't bear to watch.