The Prime Culprit
Long before that, the debate at the Murim Alliance was still raging.
When Dang Do-gyeong returned after entrusting a message to send to his father, the meeting had not yet ended.
His seat sat empty.
The teacup resting on the table was exactly where he had left it, but Elder Jongri Hyeon of the Kongtong Sect, who had been seated beside him only moments before, had shifted over to sit beside Song Heo-jinin of Qingcheng.
Dang Do-gyeong pulled out a chair and took his seat.
"How far have the discussions progressed?"
Namgung Jin spoke up.
"We have a matter to put before the Dang Clan."
Dang Do-gyeong gave no answer, only waited.
"I have been considering why the imperial household would seek a marriage alliance with the Dang Clan alone, out of everyone. If the Dang Clan accepts this marriage now, needless misunderstandings may arise within the Alliance."
"I'd say those misunderstandings have already arisen."
"All the more reason to resolve them, then."
Namgung Jin folded his hands on the table.
"What if the Poison King were to politely decline this time? He could attend the coronation alongside the rest of us, but simply postpone the matter of the marriage."
Dang Do-gyeong looked at Namgung Jin.
It was not difficult to guess what words had been exchanged while he was out of the room.
"Is that a message I am to relay to the Patriarch?"
"It is."
"And after that?"
Namgung Jin's brows shifted slightly.
Dang Do-gyeong glanced around the room before asking.
"If the Emperor receives that answer and rages against the Dang Clan, who among you will take responsibility?"
No one answered.
He looked to Gwak Chil, but the Beggars Sect Leader only met his gaze with his arms crossed.
"May I take it, then, that since the Alliance advised refusal, we may report the same to the imperial household?"
"There would be no need to go that far."
Hwangbo Ak said.
"One need only cite family circumstances and decline with proper courtesy. Surely the Emperor would not force a marriage on an unwilling house."
"And what circumstances would we cite, exactly?"
"Oh, that she already has a betrothed, perhaps. Or that she's ill. Or that the Poison King has other plans in mind…"
"My sister has no betrothed. Nor is she sick. Are you suggesting my father invent a lie to tell them?"
Hwangbo Ak's face stiffened.
Dang Do-gyeong did not stop.
"If we claim illness, the court will dispatch its own physicians. If we claim she has another marriage prospects, they will demand to know who. And when that happens, will you all simply wave your hands and say it's a family matter, handle it yourselves?"
"Young Patriarch."
Namgung Jin called out, low and warning.
"Do not corner us like this. We have no intention of putting the Dang Clan in a difficult position…"
"I ask only one thing. If the Dang Clan accepts the Alliance's request and makes an enemy of the imperial household — what will you do then?"
Namgung Jin fell silent.
With no way of knowing what the Emperor might actually do, he could not promise protection. Much less could he promise that the Murim Alliance would step in every time a dispute broke out between the Dang Clan and the throne.
Dang Do-gyeong waited for that silence to break.
He hoped someone, anyone, would offer something concrete. At the very least, he had expected a promise that the Dang Clan would not be left to bear it alone.
Song Heo-jinin cleared his throat.
"The Dang Clan seems to worry itself rather far ahead of things. The imperial household's request for a marriage hardly obliges them to accept. Even the great families of Jianghu have reputations to maintain…"
"Elder, be so good as to keep quiet."
Dang Do-gyeong's voice turned to ice.
Anger bloomed across Song Heo-jinin's face.
"What did you just say?"
Dang Do-gyeong leaned forward.
"The herbs. Why didn't you simply hand them over when you had the chance?"
The hall went quiet.
"The Crown Prince came to your gates in person, didn't he? They say he even knelt. If you had simply given him the herbs and sent him on his way, it would have ended there. So why drag it all the way here?"
"Young Patriarch Dang!"
"Why has the Emperor begun looking toward Murim? Why does he demand we surrender our weapons, and now come brandishing marriage alliances to shake down every house in the land!"
Dang Do-gyeong's hand pressed flat against the table.
"Because this is the fire you started!"
Song Heo-jinin shot to his feet.
"Do not dare speak of the sacred grounds of Wudang as if they were some mere herb garden! Would you, Young Patriarch, surrender your clan's secret arts and your ancestors' teachings just because a stranger asked for them?"
"Did the Crown Prince ask for your martial arts? Did he demand your ancestors' remains? He asked for grass. Nothing more! Would handing over those herbs have leaked a single thing of Qingcheng's martial legacy?"
"You do not even understand what matters!"
"Oh, I understand perfectly. Even now, the Elder believes his ancestors' teachings matter more — and the mess those teachings have created, the Dang Clan ought to clean up by kicking away a marriage, isn't that right?"
Song Heo-jinin's beard trembled.
Gwak Chil rapped his knuckles on the table.
"That's enough. In the end, aren't you just taking the long way around to say you'll accept the marriage?"
Dang Do-gyeong turned his head.
"I see the Sect Leader wished to hear it said plainly."
"If, despite being talked down, you insist on accepting this royal marriage — then the Dang Clan will be regarded as having betrayed the Murim Alliance."
"Sect Leader Gwak!"
Namgung Jin shouted at once.
Too late.
For a long moment, Dang Do-gyeong simply studied Gwak Chil's face. The fury that had flushed it red gave way, strangely, to calm.
He withdrew his hands from the table and rose slowly from his chair.
"I understand perfectly."
Namgung Jin rose as well.
"Young Patriarch. Those words were not the will of the Alliance."
"And the request to refuse the marriage — was that the will of the Alliance?"
While Namgung Jin was still choosing his answer, Dang Do-gyeong laughed.
There was tremendous strain in that smiling mouth.
"So if we refuse and earn the Emperor's wrath, that is the Dang Clan's problem. But if we accept and become kin to the throne, we are traitors to the Alliance. How convenient."
"Sit down for now. With everyone this heated—"
"I have heard quite enough about how whichever path we choose, only the Dang Clan must lose."
Dang Do-gyeong pushed in his chair.
"Then I suppose we must choose whichever path loses us the least."
Namgung Jin stepped out from his seat and came close, murmuring quietly.
"Do-gyeong."
He had not called him that since the boy was small — not in any official capacity, at least.
Namgung Jin still remembered Dang Do-gyeong walking in to pay his respects, back when the boy stood only a head taller than the table, whenever he sat drinking with Dang Baek-san.
At that name, Dang Do-gyeong stopped mid-stride.
"I will speak with your father directly. There is no need to settle anything here and now."
Dang Do-gyeong bowed his head briefly, then lifted it again.
"I will return home and report to my father myself."
"May I not simply send a man?"
"There is much I must deliver with my own mouth."
Namgung Jin reached to take his arm, then stopped himself.
Dang Do-gyeong gave a proper bow.
"I have nothing more to say here. I will take my leave."
He walked out without looking back.
Beyond the door came the sound of the Dang Clan's escort warriors hurrying to fall in behind him.
Namgung Jin stared at the open door for a long while.
Even after Dang Do-gyeong was gone, Gwak Chil could not hold his tongue for some time.
"You saw it, didn't you? He's been waiting for this — ready to choose the imperial side the moment it suited him…"
"You're the one who forced those words out of him, Sect Leader."
Namgung Jin turned around.
Gwak Chil's mouth snapped shut.
"You declared that accepting the marriage would be betrayal. Then you ought to have offered some guarantee that would make refusal possible."
"And what, exactly, am I supposed to do about the Alliance's unity while watching it splinter?"
"Take a good look at who just walked out that door. So concerned about the Alliance's unity, were you?"
Namgung Jin pointed at the open door.
Gwak Chil said nothing more.
Namgung Jin returned to his seat, covered his eyes with one palm, and did not move for a long time.
He should have been on his guard from the moment word arrived that the imperial court had sent a letter to the Dang Clan alone.
Everyone had called it the Emperor's ploy to sow discord.
And having said so, they had demanded explanations from Dang Do-gyeong, and asked him to refuse a marriage his family had never even agreed to.
And in the end, the word traitor had been spoken.
Namgung Jin himself had been there for all of it.
Far from shielding them, the Alliance Leader had been the first to demand a concession.
What would Dang Baek-san think, hearing today's exchange from his son?
He would rage as the Patriarch of the Sichuan Dang Clan — and just as surely, he would rage as an old friend.
After long deliberation, Namgung Jin lowered his hand and gave the order.
"Send someone to find out where the Young Patriarch of the Dang Clan has gone. If he has not yet left, tell him I wish to see him."
The warrior standing by the door bowed and departed.
No one in the hall raised a new matter of business.
Fresh tea was brought in while they waited, but few hands reached for it.
Before long, the warrior returned.
"Alliance Leader. The Young Patriarch of the Dang Clan has packed his belongings and departed."
Namgung Jin raised his head.
"Already?"
"They say he had a horse saddled at the stable. He gave word that he was returning to Sichuan."
Namgung Jin dismissed the warrior and picked up the imperial letter.
Those needlessly immaculate characters filled him with resentment one moment, and drew a bitter laugh from him the next — for that handwriting could not possibly be the Emperor's own.
A clerk from the Ministry of Rites must have written it, following the prescribed form to the letter.
Thinking of how many times that sheet of paper must have been passed around and reread on this side, faces flushing red with every round, made his chest tighten.
"Bring me brush and ink."
Hwangbo Ak asked.
"Writing to the Poison King?"
"I am writing to the Emperor."
Namgung Jin set the letter down.
"I will reply that we will attend the coronation. And in the Alliance's name, I will offer an apology regarding the Crown Princess."
Song Heo-jinin shoved back his chair.
"Alliance Leader!"
Namgung Jin did not look at him.
"When the Crown Prince came begging for help, Jianghu could not aid him as it ought to have. For that failure I will apologize — and express our condolences for the death of the Crown Princess. The Empress, should I say? In any case, her death."
"Put it that way, and you make it look as though Qingcheng has confessed to a crime!"
"I did not ask you to write it yourself, Elder."
"You said it would go into a letter bearing the Alliance's name — how can you say such a thing!"
Namgung Jin looked up.
Song Heo-jinin stood there, his face crimson.
"How can you simply accept the claim that the Empress died because Qingcheng failed to produce the herbs in time? Who can say the illness would ever have been cured? You would force upon us duties that exist nowhere in our doctrine—"
"Enough."
Namgung Jin's voice rang through the hall.
Song Heo-jinin faltered.
"The Young Patriarch of the Dang Clan spoke the truth."
"So even the Alliance Leader will lay the blame on Wudang?"
"Qingcheng started this."
Namgung Jin rose from his seat.
"It was Qingcheng the Emperor came to resent. And yet did you not all insist that if the Emperor ever drew his sword against Qingcheng, all of Murim must rise to stop him together? Now you ask the Dang Clan to refuse a marriage as well — and what exactly do you intend to do about it, Elder?"
Song Heo-jinin's mouth opened, then closed.
Namgung Jin did not wait for him.
"A man knelt before your mountain gate and lost his wife. I mean to tell him of my regret — and even that is forbidden, for the sake of Qingcheng's face?"
"It is a matter of upholding Jianghu's code!"
"And why must all of Murim shoulder the burden of upholding that code of yours!"
Namgung Jin's hand came down hard on the table.
Gwak Chil flinched, and Song Heo-jinin stood frozen, staring at the Alliance Leader.
"If Qingcheng's apology is so very difficult, then I will make it myself. I will bow my back before the Emperor with my own spine — so the Elder may sit comfortably and watch."
"…Every word spoken today will be relayed to my sect leader exactly as it was said."
"Do as you please."
Song Heo-jinin looked around the room.
Jongri Hyeon averted his eyes. Hyeonjin sat stiff-faced and silent.
Even Gwak Chil did not step in this time.
Song Heo-jinin shook out his sleeves.
"There is no reason for me to remain in this hall."
He strode toward the door.
Namgung Jin did not stop him.
After Qingcheng's disciples filed out behind him, an attendant brought brush, ink, and paper.
The attendant clearing the teacups from the table hesitated a moment before Dang Do-gyeong's empty seat.
"Clear it all away."
Namgung Jin said.
The attendant set the cold tea on the tray.
The cup Song Heo-jinin had left behind moments ago was placed beside it.
Namgung Jin dipped his brush into the ink.
The lines congratulating the Emperor on his ascension came easily enough.
At the next line, the brush stopped.
He stared down at the blank paper for a long moment — then, shutting his eyes tightly once, wrote before the name of the Murim Alliance Leader a single character: 臣. Your servant.