Farewell, and the Withered Seeds
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud!!
Kyaaaaaaa!!!
Hahahaha!!!
The heat of the festival had faded, and it was the next day. I had decided to see Yeo Il-ye off as she set out to hunt down the rest of her enemies.
But what in the world was that racket?
What else could it be but the final fate of a cat who could not contain her curiosity? At the celebration banquet, Dang Do-yeon had finally snagged Heukmyo, who had been eyeing the Bicheon Carriage with far too much interest.
And the result was the scene before us now. Heukmyo screaming her lungs out, Dang Do-yeon whooping with pure delight. A fantastic duet was unfolding right before our eyes.
Even though it was racing across relatively flat ground, the Bicheon Carriage kept leaping a full meter or two into the air, and Heukmyo’s shrieks were vanishing beyond the horizon. Far off, the carriage could be seen climbing a hill.
“Save meeeee!!”
Heukmyo was announcing to all under heaven just how desperately she had come to understand the preciousness of life. Beyond the hill, both the Bicheon Carriage and her screams disappeared. Well, she would come back once they had run a decent stretch.
Yeo Il-ye watched the spectacle in silence before finally speaking.
“Hmm… I did well to refuse after all.”
Dang Do-yeon had offered the Bicheon Carriage to Yeo Il-ye as well, but Yeo Il-ye had politely declined, citing her injuries. Even Dang Do-yeon could not very well force the issue on someone who had lost an eye.
“Did you pack the golden-wound medicine? The disinfectant? You’re not short on travel money, are you? Bandages too—plenty of them…”
“I have packed everything, so please do not worry.”
Yeo Il-ye gently brushed aside Hyeok Gi-rin’s fretting. A new sword hung firmly at her left hip—the very blade Yeongji Huyeol had asked me to deliver the night before.
Even at a glance it looked like something that had cost a small fortune. He had probably picked the finest sword that could be found anywhere in Sichuan.
Yeongji Huyeol, who had lost both Yeo Il-ye’s beloved sword and his own, now buying her a replacement… and Yeo Il-ye accepting it without protest. It was a martial artist’s sensibility I could not quite grasp, but the two of them had already come to an understanding. It was hardly my place to meddle.
“Especially the travel money. That is more than enough.”
Yeo Il-ye’s gaze slid over me for a sticky moment. Of the two hundred seventy-three gold nyang, I had set aside seventy as her share.
She had absolutely refused to take it at first.
Only when I told her to remember where Hwanggeum-seon’s power had come from did she reluctantly accept the money.
She seemed to believe that a single sword would be enough to make hunting the remaining enemies a simple matter. Personally, I was not so sure. There were plenty of problems that pure martial skill alone could not solve.
And when those problems arose, gold made an excellent detour.
“Lady Heukmyo investigated my enemies with the utmost sincerity. I had hoped to thank her one last time… but I must ask Benefactor to convey my gratitude in my stead.”
“Mm. I will pass it on.”
“Heh. Then it seems I truly must be going.”
“Mm… This Tang-mo wishes Lady Yeo Il-ye every success in her great enterprise.”
“My thanks. This Yeo-mo will never forget the aid of the Tang Clan.”
Having learned the full story of Yeo Il-ye’s past, Tang Do-gyeong treated her with extraordinary deference. Her life’s tale must have struck a deep chord in him.
“Go well.”
“Yes. May Benefactor remain unharmed until I return.”
So her return was already a settled matter. A little frightening, that.
And so Yeo Il-ye left Sichuan. With her senior sister standing right there watching, one might have expected her to turn and wave at least once—yet she walked away without a single glance back.
That retreating figure somehow felt exactly like Yeo Il-ye. Hyeok Gi-rin must have felt the same; she did not call out, merely watched the departing back in silence.
“…Still, she could have waved just once.”
With Hyeok Gi-rin’s final murmur of regret, Yeo Il-ye’s form dwindled to a speck and vanished.
“So, Brother Tang—what do you plan to do now?”
“I expect I will have to remain in Sichuan until this whole affair is settled. Heh. I feel a little awkward saying it, but between the hidden-weapon training and the new martial arts, I have barely been able to breathe. At least now I can catch my breath for a while.”
“Mm.”
In the distance, a shape that looked very much like the Bicheon Carriage began to reappear. The complete absence of screaming told me everything I needed to know about Heukmyo’s condition.
“Haaah~ How refreshing.”
Dang Do-yeon appeared looking roughly two years younger after a mere two shichen of driving. Tang Do-gyeong pressed a hand to his forehead and shook his head, but honestly—a runaway youth like him hardly had the right to criticize her for that sort of behavior.
When we opened the door, Heukmyo was sprawled unconscious on the floor.
“Haha, come to think of it, Great Hero Hyeok Gi-rin also needs to return to Jeomchang, doesn’t she? The Prefect will need some time to clean things up, so you’ll have to stay in Sichuan a while longer. Shall I give you a ride?”
Hyeok Gi-rin’s face went deathly pale.
“I also need to remain in Sichuan for some time, so I am quite all right! I have matters to discuss with the Prefect, and he will no doubt be extremely busy for a while!”
“Mm. Is that so? Then you will be leaving later than we will. What a pity.”
Having lost her prey, Dang Do-yeon smacked her lips. She had already finished off one victim and still looked hungry for more.
We decided to use the Bicheon Carriage even inside Sichuan. Right now the popularity of Dang Do-yeon and Tang Do-gyeong was nothing short of Super-Peak level. Riding past was one thing; if we tried to walk, the crowds alone would make it uncertain whether we would reach Sama Yeom’s residence before nightfall.
“It’s Lady Dang Do-yeon!”
“Waaaaah!! Manpyeonhwa Dang Do-yeon!!”
Dang Do-yeon, who had never even possessed a title before, had somehow acquired the moniker Manpyeonhwa—Ten Thousand Fluttering Flowers. In any case, we returned amid the passionate cheers of the people of Sichuan.
“Tomorrow, then?”
“If nothing unexpected happens, that is how it will proceed.”
Tomorrow every dark secret committed by Hwanggeum-seon and his co-conspirators would be laid bare. A storm of shock would sweep through Sichuan. The province turning upside down was a given—and additional incidents might well erupt on top of that.
For example, once the Jajang Sect learned that the Jambong Sect had been scheming against them, they might fly into a rage and storm the Jambong gates. Once the people discovered that Hwanggeum-seon, head of the Golden Family and pillar of the Sichuan Merchants’ Alliance, had colluded with bandits to orchestrate this entire affair, no one could predict how the furious public would react.
The Hwangbo Clan, which had taken the lead in establishing a branch office through their dealings with Hwanggeum-seon, would hardly sit still either.
Hwanggeum-seon, Gae Myeong-bu, and Yu Ji-gyeong—regardless of their personal natures—were figures who had left various marks on the history of Sichuan ever since the unorthodox sects vanished. Hwanggeum-seon’s influence on the history of the merchant houses alone must have been enormous.
Just as Gae Myeong-bu had used his connections and funds in an attempt to bring down the Tangsu Sect and the Jambong Sect and reshape the entire power structure of Sichuan’s martial factions.
Suddenly I found myself curious.
The one who had hired Nangin to bring down the Tangsu Sect and the Jajang Sect had been Gae Myeong-bu. Yet Gae Myeong-bu had, in truth… been nothing more than a copycat. The first true devil—the one who had engineered the Yeongji Sect’s Vermilion Bird Incident, an idea demonic enough to deserve the name—
Who had that person been?
“Hmm.”
The man sank into thought.
Sichuan’s murim maintains a form that is exceedingly rare even within the wider martial world.
The Tang Clan, which had performed the remarkable feat of sweeping away the unorthodox sects, and the Hwangbo Clan, Jeomchang, Emei, Qingcheng, and Zhongnan, all of which had lent a hand to that feat…
The forces that represented the Orthodox Path. The Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Families. Fifteen powers counted among the greatest across the vast Central Plains. Six of them had coiled themselves firmly around Sichuan. More than a third of the Orthodox Path’s total strength was concentrated here.
In a Sichuan so abnormally packed with Orthodox forces, the only place where chaos could still be sown was Sichuan Province itself.
He had not held any great expectations. In the end the murim ran on the logic of strength. He had merely scattered a few seeds, thinking that in ten or fifteen years they might yield some modest harvest.
Give them gold and time, and even empty husks might become something worthwhile—or so he had hoped.
“In the end, empty husks remain empty husks no matter how many years pass.”
Sichuan Province had been born with a structure that made chaos difficult to cultivate, yet even so, the only place in all of Sichuan where the seeds of chaos could grow had been Sichuan Province. With no other options, he had chosen it only reluctantly.
I thought they were holding out surprisingly well, yet in the end they were uprooted in a single stroke.
“There is an unusual detail, my lord.”
“What is it?”
“A Sichuan Nangin was deeply involved in this incident.”
The man accepted the documents from his subordinate and let out a short snort of laughter.
“Barely early-to-mid twenties and only just First-rate? Am I supposed to concern myself with someone like that?”
“My apologies! Yet it is an unusual detail… There are clear indications that he was deeply involved in various aspects of this affair.”
When the man sent him a look of mild reproach, the subordinate immediately bent at a perfect right angle.
“He may possess talents other than martial arts. But the full story of what happened in Sichuan is simple. In the end they lacked the strength to handle the aftermath from Jeomchang, and they lacked the strength to kill Yeo Il-ye, so they were dragged along until they were uprooted in one go. Do you not agree?”
“I—I am sorry!”
“You merely did your job; I am not particularly reproaching you. I am, however, a little disappointed in your eye for people.”
Looking at the subordinate who stood with his head bowed, cold sweat pouring down his face, the man sighed inwardly. He had considered the man useful—martial skill a bit lacking, but quick-witted. Yet in the end he had failed to cast off the mindset of the weak.
There was a saying about one mistake in a thousand considerations, but that itself was the thinking of the weak. A true strong man displayed his true worth no matter the circumstances. Just as those empty husks, no matter how carefully the board had been set and gold placed in their hands, had been plucked out so feebly. The weak cull themselves.
Wasting attention on those who would fall away on their own was nothing but extravagance.
“Focus your attention on those who possess real power. Observe the Super-Peak rising stars properly—Tang Do-gyeong, Dang Do-yeon, Yeo Il-ye, Hyeok Gi-rin. They are the ones who could actually hinder our great enterprise.”
“As you command!”
“Everything for the Great Enterprise.”
“Everything for the Great Enterprise!”
The man who had once been known as the Filial-Mark Sword, Pyo Chang-gi, calmly raised a fist to his heart.