Evidence in the Ashes
The Hwangbo Clan—one of the Five Great Clans of the martial world and the foremost house of Shandong—was burning.
Those who had been hiding burst out screaming, and the entire compound plunged into chaos.
"You know what the Lord of the Manor has done, don't you?"
Ja Gangcheon and Song Jain were still inside the Hwangbo estate. From the roof of a hall the flames had not yet reached, they watched the interior below.
"I killed so I wouldn't die. That's all."
"An excellent decision."
Even as they spoke, they kept scanning their surroundings. Smoke veiled much of the compound, until Song Jain finally spotted the man she wanted.
"There he is."
A man emerged from the building that housed the clan head's chambers. His face was already ruined—recognizing him was no trouble at all.
"That's the steward?"
He was a man in his early fifties who had risen to the position of steward of the Hwangbo Clan—and the very one who had proposed the clan's reckless expansion of its businesses.
Clutching a gold-wrapped bundle tightly to his chest, he sprinted for the rear gate.
"I'll bring him in."
Ja Gangcheon dropped from the roof without hesitation and struck the pressure point at the back of the man's neck.
Thud!
Shouldering the collapsed steward, Ja Gangcheon made straight for the edge of the estate and left it behind.
The steward opened his eyes again late that night.
The first thing he felt was the uneven ground. Only belatedly did he realize he was lying in a forest; he scrambled upright.
"You're awake?"
Before he could take stock of the situation, a face appeared above him.
"I'm Ja Gangcheon. I'm the one who attacked the Hwangbo Clan and set it on fire."
There was a reason Ja Gangcheon bothered to explain so plainly.
"I'm telling you I can do anything. I don't enjoy this sort of thing—but I won't hesitate, either."
Ja Gangcheon refused Song Jain's offer to handle it and took hold of the steward's shoulder himself.
Crack!
He shattered the joint first, then drove his fingers into the muscle. The steward writhed and screamed under the overwhelming pain. When he finally frothed at the mouth and passed out, Ja Gangcheon pressed a pressure point and forced him awake again.
"W-what do you want?"
"The ledgers of the sects and businesses you forcibly absorbed—and everything you seized as spoils."
"Those are inside the estate. By now they'll have burned."
Ja Gangcheon glanced to the side. The gold-wrapped bundle the man had fled with lay there. Inside were a wooden case holding five elixirs and three books.
The steward's gaze followed his; the man spoke quickly.
"I only had time to grab those. The ledgers you mentioned have already been destroyed—argh!"
Ja Gangcheon seized the shoulder again.
"Where were they originally?"
"In a storehouse inside the estate…"
"Which storehouse?"
The steward's pupils flicked rapidly left and right.
"Whatever you say next will be a lie."
"Ugh…!"
"The fact that you stopped to think instead of answering at once means you were inventing one, doesn't it?"
From behind them, Song Jain, who had been watching, added a single line.
"If he bothered to hide it, he judged that it has not been destroyed—that it still remains."
"Outside the estate, then?"
"It need not be outside. There are any number of places a fire would never reach. A cellar is the classic example."
Privately, Ja Gangcheon was glad he had brought Song Jain along. Nothing in his own knowledge had covered such things.
"Last chance. I could just kill you and search the estate myself. Further questioning is starting to feel like a waste of time."
The steward shook with terror, but still would not give the answer they wanted.
"You're going to kill me anyway, aren't you?"
"How you die is different."
Ja Gangcheon poured internal energy into the ruined shoulder. The steward could not even lose consciousness under the sensation of his insides being carved apart. And with merciless precision, Ja Gangcheon held the pain just short of death.
"M-Manung Hall… the cellar…"
Manung Hall—the training halls of the clan's principal figures.
Crack!
Ja Gangcheon snapped the man's neck and rose to his feet.
Unlike the other halls, Manung Hall still had its stone pillars. With the wooden walls burned away, it looked grotesque—like the skeleton of a giant—but it was one of the few structures that had kept any shape at all.
At the center of Manung Hall, where heat still lingered, Ja Gangcheon closed his eyes.
"Auntie. Would you raise a little wind for me?"
Song Jain understood at once and stirred a breeze that swept the floor clean. Poison was mixed into that wind, but it meant nothing to Ja Gangcheon, who had been steadily taking the Ten Thousand Poisons Divine Pill and building his resistance.
"No need to search hard after all."
He did not even have to feel the current of the air. When the ash was brushed from the floor, a strange line of scorched marks appeared. Flame had driven deep into a narrow gap and left a heavy trail of soot. From the start the place had only a tight path and walls of stone, so finding it was no difficulty.
The surrounding walls had all collapsed now, leaving it fully exposed—but from the shape of the pillars and masonry, it had clearly been a hidden chamber.
Ja Gangcheon slipped between the stone walls, found a ring set in a small hole, and pulled. The stone floor rose with it. A ladder waited in a space just large enough for one person; descending was simple.
"I'll go down."
Someone had to keep watch above, so Ja Gangcheon went alone.
The cellar was fitted out like a study. A desk sat at the center. To its right stood a bookcase holding some twenty volumes; to the left, a display cabinet for objects.
The display, arranged almost like a trophy case of spoils, caught Ja Gangcheon's eye. One item seized his full attention—something he had already been told about.
Yue Fei's Spear.
The sacred relic of Jangpung Express, the treasure Ak Pungjin had sworn he would recover before he died.
Other articles of varying worth were there as well—symbols of the groups they had come from. A single sheet of paper, a stone statue, secret manuals, even a crystal that shifted color.
"Hmm. This one just looks pretty."
Strangely, the true value of everything on display registered to Ja Gangcheon at a glance. He could not sort history or meaning, but the innate worth of an object was something experience let him see.
"About three, maybe?"
Yue Fei's Spear was without question worthy of the name of sacred relic. A jade ring small enough for a thumb also drew his eye. Last was a hairpin a woman might wear—crude in appearance, yet somehow magnetic.
"These are the real treasures."
He took the hairpin in his hand. Nothing happened. Pouring internal energy into it changed nothing either.
"There's something to it."
Intrigued, he was about to examine it more carefully when Song Jain's voice floated down.
"My lord. This is hardly the time for sightseeing."
"Ah!"
The layout was simple enough that Song Jain had been watching from above the whole time.
"I got distracted by a new toy."
"Take it with you and look to your heart's content later."
Ja Gangcheon wrapped the books in the cloth he had brought and tossed the bundle up. Then he stripped off his outer robe and gathered the rest of the items into it.
"People will be gathering soon."
Few would dare approach while Dokjamo was present—but a considerable number of eyes were still fixed on the estate.
"Done."
Having stripped the most sensitive materials clean, they left the Hwangbo estate without a backward glance.
The steward of the Hwangbo Clan is a man who records everything. He is famous for dredging up even offhand remarks and using them in negotiations. The clan's crimes will certainly be written down.
Those had been Ak Pungjin's words—and the reason Ja Gangcheon had bothered to seize the steward and hunt down the records.
Cheongu, who had designed the entire plan, had insisted the ledgers were essential. His reason was simple.
With our strength alone we can never completely destroy the Hwangbo Clan. You and Auntie could kill hundreds. Would the clan fall for that? Absolutely not.
Cheongu had been certain: This is not a fight we can win with force.
We would be facing every power in Shandong—and beyond that, the Hwangbo Clan's descendants and associates across the whole country would become our enemies. You and Auntie may be among the finest blades in the martial world, but even you cannot cut down an endless tide forever.
That was the strength by which great houses endured the ages. It did not mean there was no way.
We have to display our power beyond any doubt—and expose what they truly are. Those bound closely to them will hide in shame; those who cooperated will sever the connection. Once the group has been reduced to something small, we can bring the Hwangbo Clan down.
That had been Cheongu's final objective when he built this plan.
For that we need evidence and testimony. And we need the victims who will reclaim what was taken from the Hwangbo Clan. Those victims will take back what they lost—with interest—and in the end they will divide everything the clan possessed among themselves.
That evidence was delivered by Ja Gangcheon's hand to Haomun.
Mi-ho, who had come with three others from Haomun, already knew what had happened that day.
"You actually found these."
Even Mi-ho, who rarely showed emotion, could not help being astonished. She had been told to come to Jinan, but she had never imagined they would do something like this.
They had not only reduced the Hwangbo main house to ash—they had unearthed the secret diaries and ledgers the steward had hidden with such care.
"Wait."
Mi-ho had been about to verify the evidence when a word from Song Jain stopped her.
"The one on top is the steward's first diary. Read it here and then hand it to me."
"Does that mean we cannot take this one?"
"If you keep the agreement as promised, this will be handed over as well."
The first diary was decisive proof of who had authored the entire body of material. That single volume carried a weight comparable to the vast cache Haomun would take away.
They said she'd weathered every storm imaginable—she really is no ordinary woman.
Mi-ho did not press the point.
"As you say."
Her subordinates began packing the materials. Ja Gangcheon casually picked one item up.
"I'll hold on to this."
It was the jade hairpin he had been interested in from the start.
Mi-ho did not make an issue of it either—though she needed one assurance.
"I will have to report that the Lord of the Manor took it."
"Do that. I only want a closer look. If the owner turns up, I'll return it."
"Understood."
Once the Haomun agents had gathered the goods and withdrawn, Mi-ho, left alone, delivered one more piece of news.
"The White Clothes Sword of the Wudang Sect has visited Deungmyeong Manor. It was just before the Hwangbo elites launched their assault."
"Who?"
"Do you not know the Daoist name Jinmyeong?"
Of course he did. He had simply forgotten the name for a time.
"By his own account, he came to mediate the conflict between the Hwangbo Clan and Deungmyeong Manor. In fact, he is said to have taken Deungmyeong Manor's side before the Hwangbo elites."
"Where is Daoist Jinmyeong now?"
"The last word we had was that he is staying in Gyounam. He claims he is personally keeping watch over the Hwangbo elites."
Whether that could truly be called a watch was debatable. That he was pushing himself too hard, however, was certain.
"He said he and the Lord of the Manor are as close as true brothers. Is that untrue?"
For the first time, Ja Gangcheon felt his words stick in his throat.
True brothers…
It was not wrong. It was not quite right, either.
Ja Gangcheon had been sincerely hurt by the Wudang Sect, and his disappointment in them remained undiminished. So did that mean he disliked Jinmyeong?
No. He's a good man.
When it came down to it, among outside forces he was the only one who stood on Ja Gangcheon's side.
"Brother Jinmyeong came alone? No one else?"
"From what I heard, he came by himself. And he made clear that his mediation does not represent the will of the Wudang Sect as a whole."
The meaning of those words was unmistakable.
The others opposed it, and he came alone.
Another wave of disappointment arrived—and with it, a deep resonance at the sincerity of the man named Jinmyeong. It overlapped with something his father had always said.
Conviction is an unshaken will that does not waver under any circumstance or environment. The one who lives by it is called a chivalrous hero. The one who keeps it for a lifetime is called a gentleman.
His father had worn a very stern look when he said those words—and he had been quietly proud, as if the Wudang Sect were just such a place.
There was one chivalrous hero of the kind Father spoke of after all.
It felt as though a single man were dissolving the disappointment he held toward the whole of Wudang.
"Take this."
Ja Gangcheon handed Mi-ho the jade hairpin he had set aside for himself. By his own measure, it was a considerable concession.
"Pass word to Brother Jinmyeong. If he waits a little longer in Gyounam, he'll meet me."
"Understood."
Mi-ho found herself holding the jade hairpin almost without meaning to.
"Ah—one more thing."
"Is there something else you wish conveyed?"
"Tell Sister Yeonhui not to mess with him. He's an innocent type."
"Our unit leader is not that sort of person."
"You sure about that?"
This time it was Mi-ho who found herself at a loss for words.