Past Bonds Burn Eternal - 6: Sudden Deliveryman for the Western Chu Conqueror's Martial Arts

The past's flame burns eternal. Suddenly, I'd become a deliveryman ferrying the Western Chu ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Overlord's martial arts to the Hanlim Academy. An abrupt ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠career change, but I didn't mind. Delivering some trivial trinket might have sparked a twinge of self-pity, but what I held was the very technique that had upended the world under the Western Chu Overlord—the same one Xiang Yan had wielded to defend his homeland. A package like this was more than worth the trip.

In a way, Grandfather had done the exact same thing, hauling it all the way from Zhejiang to Kaepyeong.

Kkieak!

"That good, huh?"

Kkieak!

Just as I'd embraced my fate as a deliveryman with open arms, Kkieak had accepted a tiny destiny of his own. A small feather lodged near the bird's head. Compared to his pristine white plumage, it was strikingly vibrant and eye-catching.

'Like an inspector's plume.'

Watching Kkieak embody grand and high-spirited from every feather, I couldn't help but chuckle. The Emperor's intervention had halted the feud between Bonghwang and Do-ol, but Kkieak had indeed fought valiantly under Bonghwang's command. Grateful for it, Bonghwang had plucked one of her tail feathers and gifted it to him—like a king bestowing a reward on a loyal vassal.

Naturally, Kkieak had flapped his wings in ecstasy. He'd even begged me to stick it in his head feathers.

'If you're happy, that's what matters.'

I patted his neck fondly. Truth be told, Bonghwang's gift seemed to serve dual purposes: a present and a subtle boast of "he's my subordinate." But if Kkieak was thrilled, who cared? Master accepts deliveryman's lot; pet accepts subordinate's role. Nothing complicated about it.

"Deputy Censor-in-Chief! Come right in!"

As Kkieak and I arrived at the Hanlim Academy's main hall, a scholar greeted us with fervent enthusiasm. Meeting us at the entrance rather than his office meant he'd already heard about the delivery.

'He held out well enough.'

The man was a knowledge fiend through and through. Hearing about the Western Chu Overlord's martial arts manual must have set his heart racing. No doubt he'd shoved all duties aside, pacing endlessly in anticipation. The fact he hadn't come hunting for the deliveryman himself was a minor miracle—restraint at its finest, scholar-style.

"It's been a while. I trust you've been well?"

"Of course! Splendidly so! One joyous event after another has kept us in high spirits!"

The scholar nodded so vigorously I feared his head might fly off. With Huainan King's tomb followed by the Western Chu Overlord's, the academy had been flooded with massive grave goods in record time. They were probably shrieking with delight amid the cataloging frenzy. Hanlim scholars were knowledge gluttons at heart—perverse types who thrived on mounting workloads.

"That said, Deputy Censor-in-Chief... your presence here at the academy suggests..."

"Yes. I brought it myself."

"As expected!"

I pulled the bamboo slips from my robe, and the scholar's eyes ignited with even fiercer intensity. The sight drew a involuntary smirk from me. He'd heard a delivery was coming but not who the deliveryman was. Just waiting for whoever showed up.

"Grrraaah...! A martial arts manual on bamboo slips! The very form exudes allure!"

Clutching the slips, the scholar's eyes rolled back as he panted like a beast. A tad unsightly, but I let it slide. Positively speaking, it was the pure passion of a true seeker—one who cherished ancient relics and devoured knowledge. That earnestness had landed him the scholar post.

"Hmm? Xiang Clan Swordsmanship and Xiang Clan Heart Method?"

Having glanced at the title, his ragged breaths steadied into something human.

"Ah, yes. Rather plain names, aren't they?"

"Plain compared to Lord Wu'an's or Huainan King's techniques, yes."

I nodded instinctively. From Lord Wu'an Bai Qi's tomb: World-Exterminating Heaven-Pacifying Divine Sword. Overshadowed by the will, but from Huainan King Ying Bu's: Heaven-Shaking World-Sundering Swordsmanship. Against those, Xiang Clan Swordsmanship and Xiang Clan Heart Method felt downright simplistic.

"But that's what makes it perfect! The 'Xiang Clan' name implies it's not the Western Chu Overlord's personal creation—it's a hereditary art of the Xiang Clan! Not something only he could master, but one anyone can learn!"

The scholar blinked, then burst into laughter. Spot on. Rare techniques existed that only their creators could wield, so it could've been exclusive to the Overlord. But "Xiang Clan" meant generations of Xiangs had practiced it. In a pinch, modern folk could learn the originals. Xiang Yan and the Overlord's prowess reborn.

"And if it's a Xiang Clan art, Xiang Yan must have mastered it too!"

"Indeed. His Majesty and Grandfather mentioned as much. His Majesty was particularly intrigued—not by the world-shaking Overlord, but by the art of Xiang Yan, who fought to the end for Chu."

"Precisely! Treat it not as the Overlord's alone, but as the pillar of a nation's martial legacy!"

I was quietly impressed by his brisk nod. I'd been a touch blunt, but he'd grasped the Emperor's intent on the spot. No wonder His Majesty appointed him—not just book-smart, but sharp and wise.

"Leave it to me! Once a symbol of hegemony sixteen hundred years ago, now it'll stand for benevolence, propriety, loyalty, and righteousness!"

"Hearing that raises my expectations. His Majesty will be pleased."

"Haha, then I'll stake my life on it!"

The laughing scholar tucked the slips securely into his robe, then eyed Kkieak beside me.

"By the way, Deputy Censor-in-Chief... does this one fuss over appearances? Quite the splendid feather."

"Ah."

I glanced at Kkieak too. The tail feather I'd placed was striking, no denying it.

Five days had passed since the Deputy Censor-in-Chief delivered the precious cargo. I'd skimped on sleep, grabbed bare-minimum meals—just enough to stave off hunger. "Going home" had vanished from my vocabulary for now. How could I utter such heresy with glorious history cradled in my hands, treasures gleaming before my eyes?

Home could wait; it wasn't going anywhere.

'Am I even allowed this much joy?'

Deciphering the bamboo slips, a silly grin crept onto my face unbidden. Bliss. The word barely captured it. Heaven itself must favor me—that baseless confidence surged within.

Three tombs unearthed in my lifetime, during my tenure at the Hanlim Academy, while I drew breath as a scholar: Lord Wu'an, Huainan King, Western Chu Overlord. Tombs undiscovered for sixteen centuries.

'Luck doesn't cover it.'

One? Sure, fortune. But three? All at once, in my era? No mere chance.

'Heaven's grace.'

Gratitude to the heavens was all I could muster. For granting this lowly soul such fortune and joy.

Come to think of it, crafting a diluted World-Exterminating Heaven-Pacifying Divine Sword for the new Haomun had been a delight too. Few officials savored bureaucracy like I did.

"My lord, are you in? Grave goods have arrived."

'Perfect timing.'

A fresh stroke of luck pulled me to my feet. The Overlord's grave goods—my manual was just one piece among many. Piles more awaited sorting. My back ached from hours hunched over; this was a welcome stretch.

"What in the world is this?"

That was before moving the Overlord's goods into the warehouse stacked with Huainan King's.

Standard protocol separated disparate grave goods, but Huainan King's haul was still under review from its recent excavation. So we'd investigate together, classify later.

'It's... glowing?'

The weapons resonated, emitting light. They wailed like grieving spirits—eerie, mystical. Legends spoke of swords vibrating with their ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠master's lingering will after a lifetime's bond.

But weapons reacting to each other? Unheard of.

'A near-miss we almost overlooked.'

I sighed inwardly in relief. These weren't fated for one warehouse. Pure coincidence: unfinished Huainan review plus back-to-back excavations. Yet that fluke let us witness this anomaly—something routine storage would've missed.

"Looks like I'll ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠be camped at the academy for the next two months."

"Pardon?"

My musing slipped aloud; the attendant scholar beside me flinched.

Whoops. Meant to keep that internal.

A messenger pigeon arrived from the Hanlim Academy.

I closed my eyes softly midway through the missive.

'What now?'

Eyes ached from the dense script; head throbbed from the weapons' bizarre interplay.

'Collection event?'

Gather Chu heroes' gear—Yong Jeo, Jongni Mal, the lot—and something triggers? Ludicrous.

'Ridiculous.'

My head pounded madly.