It's Not Over Till It's Over - 4
Sajian accepted my surprise visit with an invitation to come inside. This wasn't some official dropping by on business—this was a high-ranking civilian in seclusion after severe injuries, visited without an appointment. Sure, the gap in our statuses was vast, but I'd shown respect by calling him "Elder" from the start. If he'd said, "Come back another time," I'd have had to slink away in embarrassment.
But Sajian returned my respect in kind. Maybe he was wary of the fallout from turning away a crown prince and senior official. Either way, it was a win for me.
"Those pups are only meek in front of this old man. They bare their teeth fiercely at strangers. I hope you'll overlook it, Left Vice Inspector."
I gave a slight smile at his half-joking apology. I'd expected a stern, grave elder worthy of reverence, but he seemed gentler and lighter-hearted than I'd imagined.
"No harm done. It's natural for dogs to guard their master and wary of outsiders. They were just doing their duty thoroughly—commendable, even."
"Hearing that puts my mind at ease. Thank you."
"You must cherish them dearly."
"Living alone in this remote spot, I've grown attached. Aside from them, I have no friends to speak of—they're family now."
"I see."
Our eyes turned to the courtyard at the same time. The dogs were still cowed by Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i, but they hadn't fled home. Tails drooping, they stole glances at Sajian even as they eyed us warily.
"Looks like they see you as family too, Elder."
"Hoho, that's gratifying."
Sajian's affection for those three hunting dogs was obvious, so I upgraded my wording from "dogs" to "pups." Sure, an elder in seclusion might bond with animals. Head west from Guangxi, and you'd find folks who'd devoted their lives to beasts, not just affection. Sajian was tame by comparison.
"Oh, a distinguished guest, and I haven't even offered tea. This is what comes of old age. I should just hurry up and die."
"Nonsense. Please, stay seated."
I quickly stopped him from rising and pulled two gourd flasks from my robe. I knew his legs were bad and that he lived alone in this out-of-the-way place. Expecting hospitality was rude; better to bring my own.
"I borrowed some of the Branch Manager's tea leaves. Nothing like ordinary brew."
"Tempting, but tricky. Drink tea from the Branch Manager, and I'd be an accomplice, wouldn't I?"
"That's why I'm sharing."
He chuckled at my banter and accepted the flasks with both hands.
"Embarrassing, but I can't handle hot drinks well. One cup lasts me not one dajing, but three."
"Haha, then three dajing is one for you, Elder."
"Lucky me. Gives us a bit more time to talk."
I paused with the lid half-off and met his gaze.
"Can't we stretch it longer?"
"Regrettably, this old body's limit is about there."
"What a pity."
A wry smile crept onto my face. He'd opened politely, but it was a clear warning: We'll have tea, then you're out. He had a rough idea why I'd come. No intention of reentering the world with his aged, injured body. Still, accepting the tea was consideration for me—a rare visitor of high standing, worth hearing out, at least.
"Suddenly, I don't feel like tea."
"That'd be a problem too, sir. Me drinking alone would make me the sole culprit."
"True. Can't have that."
In the end, I uncapped the flask and took a light sip. Three dajing—an hour at most. I had to convince him in that time, or at least shake his resolve.
Let's do this.
I steeled myself inwardly and straightened up. I was a battle-hardened official who'd roamed the Central Plains, met the Emperor, the Baekryeon Cult Leader, and Iseongwangs. Convincing one old man with sincerity? Piece of cake.
Another talent recruited today.
With the same zeal as when I'd won over the new Haomun leader. Or Yo Gwang-hyo and I Pil. Time to add Sajian to my list.
I failed.
Persuading someone in an hour? That was for charm-maxed Liu Bang territory.
"Sir, this old failure couldn't stop his beloved homeland from burning, couldn't save his seniors and comrades from death, couldn't even protect his own body. What face does a man who's lost everything have to show himself to the world?"
Convincing an elder who'd secluded himself for decades since Daesong's founding? Even Liu Bang might struggle.
I'd overestimated myself.
"Elder, no one sees you as a failure. The Haomun leader and Guangxi locals still revere you."
"Too much, and shameful. The Sajian they remember is Yangminmun's elder Sajian. That Sajian died in the last battle against the bandits."
His voice—firm yet soft, bitter yet wistful—drew a sigh from me. A few words, but none captured his heart more vividly. I'd failed because his sincerity had swayed me.
Ridiculous, the persuader persuaded. But how do you sway someone with such deep-seated grief?
Never dealt with this type before.
I'd negotiated plenty, but they had goals or greed for official perks. They were reasonable. The new Haomun leader had his underclass unity creed; Yo Gwang-hyo and I Pil grabbed my hand for advancement. Perfect counterparts.
Sajian? Nothing. His convictions had burned out in youth; too old for ambition. He'd given all, now just awaiting death.
That was Sajian.
No way in.
One meeting, under an hour, but I felt it. Easier to smash every tribesman's head than convince him. Wiping out an ethnicity? That's far-west Führer stuff—off the table. No need to torch my ancestor's heavenly mandate.
- Kki-ing...
- Kki-ong...
As I kept sighing, Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i licked my face in comfort from either side.
Sorry. You tamed the hellhounds, but I couldn't tame their master.
"Screw the ethnic stuff—just keep walking?"
I muttered while petting Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i. I try solving most issues, but ethnic strife? No small matter. Unresolved since Daesong's founding—not by central inspectors or locals.
Greater authority or bloodline won't cut it. Flash "Giwangga crown prince" to tribesmen? "Crown prince won't die to a spear?"
"...Can't just bail."
After agonizing, I scrapped fleeing. Ignoring the unknown? Fine, no blame. But knowing and ignoring? Sinful, accountable. Try my best, then wash hands.
That way, body's tired but heart's at peace.
Ditch without action, and if it explodes from neglect? I'd regret it. Once in life, for sure. Pathetic. People should be shameless, but I'm not there yet.
"Too much, and shameful. The Sajian they remember is Yangminmun's elder Sajian. That Sajian died in the last battle against the bandits."
Recalling his words, I moved on. If he split past and present selves, bridge them first. That's the key.
Yangminmun's leader and elders mostly died in battle, not old age. Few survivors followed soon after—Sajian the sole top survivor.
Mid-ranks and disciples? Hardly unscathed.
Total devastation.
Eighty percent perished in the founding wars. Armies call twenty or thirty percent losses annihilation; Yangminmun hit extinction.
No wonder the will's gone.
Sigh escaped. Leader, revered seniors, led juniors dead—staying sane would be weirder.
More I dug into Yangminmun, more doubt crept in. Maybe give up on persuading Sajian—?
What the—
A jarring line in the records caught my eye.
[Yangminmun Leader Jeong Gu, Elder Mu I-eon, Elder Sang Ju-dan, Elder Gyeong Won, Elder Sa Ji-mun's bodies could not be recovered.]
Some top leaders' bodies still unrecovered—rolling on the ground? Skeletons now?
"Tch."
I clicked my tongue instinctively. Dying in battle's sad; failing recovery? Heart-wrenching for survivors.
"...Samshik."
- Shiiik?
At my call, Samshik peeked from my sleeve.
"You used to crawl the earth, right?"
- Shiiik?
I stroked his tilting head. Snakes slither close to the ground, closer than any beast. Samshik could do what I hoped.