The Law of the Murim and the Price of a Hairpin
As soon as the scream rang out across Kaifeng, the nearby spectators bolted at first, only to slam into the wall of bodies ahead of them. They spun around with glittering eyes. In the Central Plains, where blade fights were everyday occurrences, people fled at the first sign of trouble, then turned back into spectators once they judged the distance safe. After all, what kind of Central Plains person would avoid watching a good fight?
In the clearing that formed so quickly, Cheong stood gripping the man’s wrist with a firm, businesslike hold.
“Aaaagh!”
“Look at those sticky fingers. The one who steals another’s belongings loses their wrist. The law of the land is strict—how dare you? Hmm, right?”
She had rattled it off with practiced ease, but she honestly had no idea if that was actually the law in the Central Plains. Cheong glanced at Paeng Daesan for confirmation.
Paeng Daesan shook his head. “There is no such law.”
“Ah. Oops. You could’ve told me a little sooner. It’s already half cut off.”
When Cheong released his hand, the man clutched his mangled wrist and kept screaming. He tried to wrap his fingers around it, but the slightest touch sent fresh agony shooting through him, so he could only stomp his feet in helpless pain. It was almost pitiful.
I should’ve just sliced it clean off. Now the bone’s been ground to powder and the wrist is only hanging on by skin and tendons.
Feeling a twinge of guilt, Cheong offered, “You gonna shut up or not? If it hurts that much, I can just finish the job and take it off completely?”
“W-what the hell is this?! Why?! Why?!”
“Because you were groping someone else’s travel bag, obviously. Hey, miss over there? I saw this guy digging through that young lady’s bag. You’d better be careful.”
“Don’t talk nonsense! I never—”
“Be quiet.”
Boksinjeok Strike to the Crown
The Boksinjeok, already drawn, slammed down on the pickpocket’s skull. Under the dignity of this self-directed, revolutionary ten-thousand-year cold iron bombardment, the thief’s eyes rolled back completely, vanishing somewhere inside their sockets.
“Now then.”
Cheong expertly patted down the (not quite) corpse and found the pouch tied at his waist. Inside was a splendid hairpin decorated with delicate pearls and red jade—the very item she had seen the man steal.
“This belongs to that young lady, right? I clearly saw him take it.”
But the woman’s reaction was strange. Her pupils trembled violently, all color drained from her face, yet she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the hairpin. She simply stared.
“Miss?”
“I-it’s not mine.”
“Huh? I definitely saw him take it out. Ah, if you’re scared he might retaliate—”
“Hah. Are you trying to insult me? Are you saying that Gongson Yoye of the Gongson Clan would lie out of fear for future consequences?”
The woman suddenly gripped her sword hilt, her voice icy enough to suggest she really might draw it and start swinging.
“That’s not what I meant. I clearly saw him steal it, but you’re saying it’s not yours, so I was just checking.”
“I told you it’s not mine! Before I am a woman, I am a martial artist. Such frivolous ornaments are for weak, pathetic girls, are they not?”
Indeed, she wore plain martial robes with no makeup at all. Her only adornment was a plain, undyed cotton cord tying up her hair. Still, she was beautiful. They did say the true beauties were the ones who looked good bare-faced.
Even so, she really didn’t seem like the owner of such a flashy hairpin.
“I must have seen wrong. How strange.”
“Then throw away that ownerless object immediately.”
“No, I should at least try to find the owner before throwing it away.”
“Then do as you please. In any case, it is not mine, so I will take my leave.”
With that, she strode off briskly.
Cheong stood there dumbfounded until Paeng Daesan asked, “Did you see wrong after all?”
“No, I didn’t. I definitely saw it. It was so flashy I figured it must be expensive and precious.”
That was when the pickpocket suddenly bellowed.
“Y-you wench! How dare you cripple an innocent man’s arm like this! The law? Fine, the law is good! Let’s do this by the law! By the law!”
“Hah. This bastard suddenly got bold. A thief who only knows how to rummage through other people’s things—what exactly are you so proud of? I should’ve smashed your skull properly.”
“Aigo! This woman is framing an innocent person! Aaaagh! My hand! Constable! Constable sir!”
Cheong burst into laughter. “What the hell? A thief calling for the constables? And this is the first time I’ve seen someone do that since coming to the Central Plains. San, have you ever seen constables actually do their jobs?”
It wasn’t a genuine question born of curiosity. It was simply an extension of her mockery. This was an era where people openly said there were five of the lowliest professions in the world, and government officials ranked even below them. At least the five lowly professions worked hard to earn money. Officials were parasites who did nothing and lived off unearned income.
“Of course I have.”
“San?”
“The constables here do work.”
The corner of Paeng Daesan’s mouth, visible beneath his bamboo hat, curved into a nasty smile.
“What? What do they do?”
“In Kaifeng, even the constables are respected. Didn’t I tell you before? They worship at the shrine of Po Cheong-cheon.”
Before Paeng Daesan even finished speaking, soldiers in black official uniforms with large “捕” characters stitched on them pushed through the crowd of spectators. They surrounded the area and raised their spears.
Cheong scanned their faces one by one and realized none of their evil karma exceeded thirty points.
“Damn. It’s real.”
At that moment, a man wearing similar clothes but with a gold-embossed belt walked out from among the constables.
“What is all this commotion?”
“Sir! This is unfair! This woman suddenly broke my wrist, threatened me, and tried to frame me as a thief! How can such an injustice exist in this world?”
“No, this thieving bastard—”
“Enough. Hmm. And you, why did you inflict injury on an innocent person? If you claim this man is a thief, do you have any evidence to prove it?”
“I saw him steal this with my own two eyes.”
“She’s lying! Everyone here saw and heard! This is a treasure I saved up for a long time to give to my wife as a gift!”
“No, this bastard lies every time he opens his mouth—”
“Enough. You say you saw it with your own eyes. Then where is the owner of the stolen item?”
“Huh? That’s…”
Cheong trailed off. The actual owner had insisted it wasn’t hers, gotten angry, and stormed off. What kind of woman does that? Sure, she had a pretty face, but still.
When Cheong hesitated, the gold-belted official shook his head.
“I will arrest you for robbery and assault. If you feel wronged, you may explain the details at the government office later. Will you accept the ropes quietly?”
The “ropes” referred to thick, red-dyed cords used to bind a criminal’s arms when taking them into custody. If the criminal was obedient, only their arms would be bound. If they resisted violently, they could be dragged along with the rope around their neck. In other words, “accept the ropes quietly” was a polite way of saying “don’t make a scene and just come along nicely.”
Paeng Daesan made a sound like he was barely holding back laughter and said, “The Gongson Clan isn’t hard to find. They’ll come for you, so go wait quietly. Even if things go wrong, you’ll probably just get beaten a few times anyway.”
It was the warmest consolation Paeng Daesan could offer to Cheong, who now wore the ropes.
Cheong ground her teeth. This bastard San. No wonder he has no friends.
His surname is Po, his given name is Jeung, and his courtesy name is Hui-in. Thus, the man known as Po Jeung or Po Hui-in was a famous minister of the past, renowned for his integrity and impartial justice.
Revered as the greatest incorruptible official in Chinese history, he is respected for all time. The shrine built in his honor is a sacred site that every official must visit at least once to emulate his virtue.
This sacred site is scheduled to be burned down under the will of the red people in the future, yet even after it is reduced to ashes, it will remain an inexplicable, heart-stirring mystery in the hearts of the Chinese people.
How could a government official possibly be incorruptible? Was he mentally ill or just an idiot?
And so the people called him Po Cheong-cheon. “Cheong-cheon” means a clear sky without a single cloud—his reign was said to have been just as transparent and clean. That was his nickname.
Was Cheong in serious trouble? Actually, not really. Unless it was treason, all punishments under the law could be replaced with money. This was called redemption by payment—literally washing away one’s crime with cash. Even the death penalty could be substituted with a lump of gold.
That was also why Paeng Daesan had casually tossed out that half-joking remark while Cheong was being dragged away with her hands bound. In the end, it could all be settled with money, and for a Murim clan of their wealth, it wasn’t even a burdensome amount.
“Your companion has paid the redemption fee, so you may come out now.”
The young man who had brought Cheong in—the Kaifeng Prefecture Inspector—opened the prison door and spoke.
“What was the verdict? How much did it cost?”
“Five strokes of the cane and sixty copper coins.”
“Huh, that’s ridiculously cheap.”
Considering she had rendered a man’s wrist permanently useless, the fine was absurdly low. The investigation had concluded the man was indeed a pickpocket and, moreover, a repeat offender deserving heavy punishment. The verdict had taken that into account.
The cane was a light punishment delivered by striking the buttocks with a thick bamboo rod. For men, they would strip them completely naked and beat their bare behinds, but they didn’t go that far with women. Five strokes would leave five red lines on each cheek—ten in total. It was a punishment closer to public humiliation in front of spectators than actual pain.
“Please restrain yourself in the future. No matter how wicked the opponent may be, if individuals take justice into their own hands, how can the country uphold its laws?”
“Hmph. As if there are any laws in the Central Plains outside of here. No wonder people say Murim thugs are the ones keeping order.”
Cheong, who had spent two nights locked in a cold cell, answered sharply. She was actually angrier about how terrible the prison food had been. The law provided criminals with only two meals a day—small portions and tasteless—and no extras allowed.
“Ahem. Not all officials are like that.”
The inspector gave an awkward cough. Even he seemed to realize how weak his defense sounded.
When she stepped outside, Paeng Daesan sneered. “Should’ve just let them beat you.”
“I have sixty coins too, you know? Damn it, who the hell was that woman? I only tried to help her.”
If that Gong-whatever woman had simply told the truth from the start, Cheong wouldn’t have had to spend two days in prison. Redemption was only possible after a verdict, which was why it had taken time for the pickpocket’s crimes to be confirmed.
“Still, you got to keep the hairpin. It was quite valuable—pearls and red jade with no fakes mixed in. For two days’ work, it’s more than you deserve.”
With those words, Paeng Daesan tossed the hairpin upward in a gentle arc. Cheong caught it and examined the glittering piece. Yeah, it really was pretty. Too flashy for her master, though. Maybe she should give it to Jangmyeong.
“Ugh. I’m starving to death. Even if I’m a criminal, how can they serve food that makes people suffer like this? It’s not even fit for a dog.”
“You probably licked the bowl clean too.”
“Heh. Were you watching? You know me so well. Then why didn’t you sneak me some dumplings?”
Paeng Daesan’s inner energy was still far too shallow to scratch Cheong’s verbal armor. After all, this body was the terrifying little sister recognized by none other than the Beast’s Body, Sage’s Brain Jegal Ihyeon—a master who could make people unable to hold back their gasps of admiration. “Arguing like a dog” was a compliment. It was the highest praise a loser could offer the winner on the battlefield of debate, filled with the utmost respect.
While they bickered and joked, they returned to the inn—only to find quite the surprise waiting. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. The muscle mountain Jegal Ihyeon and Dang Nan-a jumped up and came running toward them.