An Outing in Sichuan -1
"And since His Majesty the Emperor will be personally bestowing his praise, the rewards that fall our way won't be ordinary either."
I supposed I had Hyeok Gi-rin to thank for that. Under normal circumstances, a memorial would have gone up and I would have received a modest reward before the whole affair ended. But because I had become entangled with Hyeok Gi-rin, the matter had escalated into an imperial audience—and that audience had swollen the compensation I stood to receive.
"I see... Well, an imperial decree has already been issued. There is nothing to be done about it."
The crease between Hyeok Gi-rin's brows refused to smooth away. I had assumed her reluctance stemmed purely from guilt over dragging me into this, but that was clearly not the whole of it. I had thought she would be glad for the rare chance to see her older brother again... yet the complicated look on her face told me the matter was nowhere near so simple.
Heukmyo, Sama Yeom, and I decided to give Hyeok Gi-rin time to sort through her thoughts. That sounded grand, but in practice it meant we left her to her brooding and started chatting among ourselves.
"Sichuan seems to have changed quite a bit. Could you tell us what has shifted?"
"Any number of things. Have you heard that the Bandit Suppression Memorial has been completed?"
"Yes—only in passing, on the way here."
"A rather majestic stone tower has been finished. Given that the names of fully five thousand people had to be carved into it, I expected something enormous and a construction period to match. But the chivalrous heroes threw themselves into the work with such zeal that the thing went up at an astonishing speed."
"I see."
From recruiting stonemasons to hauling materials, the murim folk had poured themselves into the project, and the result was a monumental structure raised in record time.
"The throngs of people coming to gawk at the memorial have completely paralyzed Heaven's Center Road. It has been more than a week, and the crowds still form a sea of humanity."
Heaven's Center Road was the heart of Sichuan—true to its name, the key artery of the province's traffic and its widest thoroughfare. The memorial had been erected at the intersection with the deliberate intent of placing it where the most people would pass. Now the memorial itself was choking the road with spectators.
"What about the sects? They must be growing restless now that they can no longer change their rankings."
"Hah... On that subject, truly... There was no end of talk over the White Gold Plaque of the Jam-bong Gate. Looking back, I almost count myself lucky."
Sama Yeom wore an expression of pure exhaustion. Just how thoroughly had the sects of Sichuan tormented the man to leave him looking like that?
"With the entire Golden Family estate confiscated by the state, we decided to turn part of the grounds into a public park and to build facilities for the heroes who resolved this crisis. Among those plans is the construction of a public sparring arena."
"Is that so."
Hearing the aftershocks of my own actions described like this felt strangely unreal. The knowledge that Sichuan was changing because of me filled my shoulders with a quiet pride even as it pricked me with a sense of caution—an indescribable tangle of feelings.
"Once the public sparring arena is finished, we will hold a martial tournament in celebration and award the White Gold Plaque. Until the Golden Family grounds are sufficiently converted into a park, the sects of Sichuan will simply have to wait. After that, I intend to wash my hands of the matter entirely."
"Understood."
The aftershocks of the ranking matches had already sunk deep into Sichuan. Young men strutted about with colored sashes at their waists; boys handed out advertising flyers. Most of all, the tier tables had taken root in the minds of the province's people. Even if Sama Yeom stepped away, the sects would likely continue the ranking matches by mutual agreement.
"Why not see the rest with your own eyes while you walk the city? Preparing the formal reception will take several days, and a change of scenery might do Hero Hyeok some good."
Sama Yeom suggested an outing. The crease still sat between Hyeok Gi-rin's brows, yet she seemed curious enough about Sichuan's transformation that she nodded.
Hyeok Gi-rin shed her Diancang Sect robes for ordinary martial attire. I put on a plain bamboo hat, and Heukmyo traded her Sichuan Nangin garb for the mysterious veiled-lady ensemble.
"Hmm. If you're going to disguise yourself, why not go all the way and wear a proper palace gown?"
"Haha... There are reasons for this."
Seeing the complicated look on Hyeok Gi-rin's face, Heukmyo did not press further.
Having her male disguise seen through was not, in itself, a great problem. The explanation was complicated, but put simply, Hyeok Gi-rin's cross-dressing deliberately left a few cracks. If someone ever declared, "Hyeok Gi-rin is actually a woman in disguise!" and the people around them reacted with, "What nonsense is this fool spouting? How could Hyeok Gi-rin be a woman?"—that would be inconvenient. So she intentionally left just enough room for doubt.
Piercing her true identity, however, was an entirely different matter.
The whereabouts of a princess are an imperial secret. You have learned something you should not have, and so you have hastened your own death. Imperial experts might well arrive to collect my head.
Objectively speaking, Hyeok Gi-rin's behavior was suspicious in the extreme. Almost no one would feel reluctance at the chance to meet His Majesty the Emperor.
We stepped into the streets under a faintly awkward atmosphere—yet that awkwardness vanished within a few paces.
"As expected, Lady Heukmyo's beauty draws every eye."
"Oh my~ How embarrassing~ You two gentlemen will simply have to protect me well~"
Heukmyo seemed delighted to be wearing something splendid for the first time in ages. The woman who normally wrapped herself head to toe in black clearly harbored a secret longing for gorgeous clothes.
She swept up every gaze on the street in a single pass. When she sidled up and linked arms with Hyeok Gi-rin, the air around us crackled. The stares of the passersby left Hyeok Gi-rin flustered.
"My, you wouldn't shake off a delicate lady's arm, would you?"
"Ugh."
Hmm. Did Hyeok Gi-rin know about Heukmyo's constitution? After more than two months stuck together, she might have noticed even if Heukmyo never said a word.
What had begun as an outing for Hyeok Gi-rin's spirits had, in truth, become Heukmyo's outing. In Sichuan, the strongest experts were only Super-Peak Realm. With a Super-Peak expert like Hyeok Gi-rin as escort, Heukmyo could stroll the main thoroughfares in perfect safety.
"Ahem! Young master! That is not the face of a man savoring a peerless beauty's side-bosom! You need to look more dazed and lovestruck!"
"My lady! Mind your language! What do you mean, side-bosom?!"
Hyeok Gi-rin shot me a glance. Heukmyo's voice took on a strangely pointed edge.
"Leave him be. That one is a martial-arts-obsessed fool who has no interest in women."
"???"
Heukmyo suddenly launched a baseless accusation. I turned toward her in pure indignation, but she whipped her head away and hugged Hyeok Gi-rin's arm even tighter.
"That scrawny little—"
"If I were ten years younger, I'd at least try talking to her..."
The scrawny Super-Peak expert and cross-dressing woman Hyeok Gi-rin wore a look of pure distress under the muttering that poured in from every side, while Heukmyo snickered.
In the world of Murim Cheonha, walking arm-in-arm was a rather bold public display of affection. Men who had been captivated by Heukmyo's beauty could only click their tongues in regret at the sticky romantic performance unfolding before them. The time-honored strategy of peerless beauties for fending off men—pretending to have a lover—proved devastatingly effective. Hyeok Gi-rin quietly releasing a thread of Super-Peak presence certainly helped as well.
And so Hyeok Gi-rin, peerless beauty on one arm and bodyguard in tow, strolled the streets as life's undisputed victor until the three of us pushed through the crowds and arrived at the Bandit Suppression Memorial on Heaven's Center Road.
"Whoa..."
A colossal monument easily ten jang tall filled the eye. Because the meritorious deeds of five thousand people had to be recorded, the ten-jang stone stele was packed solid with characters.
I had wondered what there was to see, but they had gone and created a cultural treasure. The memorial itself had become a spectacle, which explained the endless stream of visitors. What on earth had they managed to build in only two months?
"Come one, come all! Replica Hero Hats—the very ones awarded to the heroes who suppressed the bandits! Fakes, yes, but manufactured to the exact same specifications by the Western Heaven Workshop that supplied the originals! Feel like a hero yourself!"
"The Hero's Meal—the very diet the heroes of Sichuan ate while on the march! The food they consumed during the campaign!"
Wherever people gathered, street stalls were never far behind. Shops selling souvenirs, stalls peddling what was essentially military mess-hall fare while loudly insisting it was the "Hero's Meal," and ordinary vendors of every kind packed the roadside.
The thoroughfare was filled with more than just stalls.
Recruiting experts for Sangil Gate, holders of the Golden Plaque! Consult with us now!
Looking for a fresh start in Sichuan? Join Dodong Sect, holders of the Silver Plaque!
Sect after sect had hung banners bearing their names and set up shop. Every one of them wore Hero Hats, and in front of each stall they proudly displayed the splendid sashes that marked their sect's tier. Personnel from the various sects had staked out their own corners of the thoroughfare.
The moment we set foot among them, sharp gazes lanced toward us. Those gazes softened the instant they touched Heukmyo—then sharpened again as they fixed on the rest of us.
"Never seen them before. Experts."
"That one is First-rate... that one... I cannot read him. The woman is considerable as well...!"
Scraping. Scrape!
As one, they shoved back their chairs and rose, closing in on us. I drew my tension tight and set my hand on the hilt of my sword.