Chapter 52: Those Wicked Orthodox Bastards (2)
Chapter 52: Those Wicked Orthodox Bastards (2)
"How are we going to sneak in? Those guys are further away than I thought."
"Tell me about it."
The port of Cheongheon County was barely a mid-sized hybrid between a tiny fishing village and a mediocre trading hub.
Cheongheon was small even for a county-level town, and the problem was that the Jongri Family’s Black Ship was far too massive to enter such a port.
While it wasn't incredibly far from the harbor, the lanterns hanging from the Black Ship were too distant to reach by swimming.
To be more precise, going that way would guarantee we’d be spotted.
I wasn't such an idiot that I’d try to swim through the night sea in a downpour.
The symbol of the Peng Family is the tiger, and tigers are land animals, after all.
"There must be a reason they anchored near this village."
"You mean the slaughter of the commoners."
"If they wanted to do it without being caught, doing it in Chongqing would have been enough. For a family like the Jongri, wiping out a couple of slash-and-burn farming villages near their own home could be done without any risk of discovery."
Yet, they committed such an act right between Shuntian and Ningtian Prefectures, where the Imperial Court’s influence is strongest.
That meant they had business in this village, which in turn meant...
"They must have launched small boats to interact with this village."
Moving a ship of that size requires a significant amount of manpower. And that many heads translates directly into a need for food and supplies.
Since martial artists eat a tremendous amount, that ship absolutely had to secure supplies from the water.
As we waited, we heard the sound of footsteps near the pier where we were hiding.
"People...!"
"Shh."
Soon, three martial artists appeared, carrying small lanterns.
Two of them were pulling a large cart, which was piled high with heavy boxes. I watched as they loaded the cart onto a fishing boat.
I quickly signaled to Murong Cheong and quietly slipped into the sea.
Despite it being the height of summer, the water was terrifyingly cold.
As Murong Cheong entered the water right beside me, I reached out to her back. I wrote small characters on her skin to convey my intent.
— Let's hide inside the boxes.
[I will definitely, definitely, definitely teach you Sound Transmission. How many times are you going to lay hands on a maiden of marriageable age? Have you lost your mind? That lewdness typical of the Han people has seeped into your very marrow...]
— It's distracting, so be quiet.
[Stop! Stop! Fine! I understand! Stop writing! It tickles!!]
Murong Cheong gave a single shudder and then began to swim silently after me.
Since we were both trained in martial arts, swimming quietly wasn't particularly difficult.
In the pouring rain, identifying a human head floating on the dark night sea is no easy task, even for a high-level expert.
Besides, there was no way an expert of that caliber would be tasked with such menial labor.
Thanks to that, we were able to attach ourselves to the stern of the slowly moving fishing boat.
We could hear the martial artists grumbling.
"Dammit, how much longer do we have to keep doing this?"
"How should I know? As long as they give us the silver, we just keep our mouths shut and live."
"Do you think they'll actually pay us properly?"
"I've heard that if there's one thing the Jongri Family doesn't skimp on, it's spending money to use people. Let's just finish our job."
"It's just... it gives me the creeps. Anyway, are you really going to live quietly once we get the money and leave?"
"What?"
"I bet the reward for reporting this to the Dragon Slaying Alliance wouldn't be small. We know a fair bit about how things are going. We could take a fat stack of gold from both sides and just go into hiding for a few years."
"I see your point. That wouldn't be bad at all."
It was a conversation typical of third-rate Black Path ronin.
They were "sword-sellers"—mercenaries who wandered without a sect, buying and selling their martial prowess.
We exchanged glances and silently climbed onto the stern of the fishing boat.
The boxes were much larger than they had appeared from a distance. They were too big to be just for storing food.
Murong Cheong and I crept forward, each grabbing a corner of a box and carefully prying open the lid.
The third-rate martial artists, whispering among themselves amidst the sound of the rain, didn't seem to notice our movements.
My fingertips went numb from moving so slowly it made me break out in a cold sweat.
Soon, with a faint creak, the box opened.
"Hmm...!!"
The moment the lid opened and I saw the cargo inside, I reached out without a second thought.
I was certain Murong Cheong was about to make a sound.
Fortunately, I managed to cover her lips just before she could open her mouth.
Barely supporting the lid with my elbow, I quickly wrote on the back of her hand.
— Calm down. Take a deep breath. I said, calm down.
[I will kill them...!!]
— I plan to do the same, so stay calm.
[I will definitely kill them...! How, how!! How can a human being do such a thing...!!]
The box was packed with corpses.
Pale, dead without any visible major injuries... corpses with relatively clean appearances.
The distinct stench of death wafted from within. It seemed they hadn't been dead for very long.
I used my left hand to force a gap between them.
— Let's get in. Quickly.
[I... I...]
— If you're going to run away, say so now. We'll leave together. But if you're going in, think rationally. Whether it's revenge or justice, whatever it is. The moment the weak lose their reason, there is no way to survive.
We were essentially entering the heart of enemy territory. We were heading into a place where we would be horribly murdered the instant our infiltration failed.
At my words, reason returned to Murong Cheong's eyes.
[I showed you... a pathetic sight. I'm sorry.]
I didn't bother replying.
She squeezed her eyes shut once and then buried herself among the corpses without hesitation.
I followed her in and gently lowered the lid of the box.
Fortunately, our small disturbance seemed to have been swallowed by the sound of the rain.
Amidst the unpleasant sensations of corpses, stench, and rainwater, Murong Cheong and I held our breath, our bodies pressed tightly together.
[Your hand... your hand...]
Murong Cheong's Sound Transmission echoed right in my ear.
Since our bodies were almost entirely overlapping, there was no real need for her to even use Sound Transmission. Yet, she continued falteringly.
[Where is your hand? I, I think this is a co-corpse's hand. Where is your hand?]
At those words, I reached out and lightly tapped her shoulder. Murong Cheong let out a sharp breath and suddenly grabbed the tip of my index finger.
[Since you, since you can't use Sound Transmission... I needed your hand to communicate. There's no other reason.]
I didn't bother answering. No, I couldn't answer.
To have a written conversation, I needed to write on the back of her hand with my finger, but she didn't seem to have any intention of letting go of it.
Instead, I held the hand that was gripping my finger.
Then, I patted the back of that small hand a few times.
Gradually, the trembling in her shoulders began to subside.
[Ho-how long are you going to keep holding it? Let go. You are a rogue. How dare you hold the hand of a noble lady without permission? This is unforgivable. I... I can no longer get married now.]
Talk about an overreaction.
I let out a small chuckle, and it seemed Murong Cheong heard it.
For a long while, I had to endure a storm of ear-piercing Sound Transmissions.
Despite being stuffed among corpses, it seemed her mental state was being managed well enough.
To be honest, it was a sight far too gruesome for someone in their late teens; it wouldn't have been surprising if she'd been traumatized for life.
But, well. At least she could find comfort in the fact that she wasn't alone.
I didn't let go of Murong Cheong's hand until I felt the box being lifted by the martial artists and moved somewhere.
By then, her Sound Transmissions had gradually died down, replaced only by the sound of her quiet breathing.
The only thing I could feel between us now was Murong Cheong's stinging gaze, staring intently in my direction.
[I hear voices!]
I hear them too.
I tapped the back of her hand twice to indicate I was listening.
Murong Cheong immediately went silent.
A moment later, the box carrying us was set down somewhere.
We were inside the Black Ship.
Soon after, an elderly voice spoke.
"Put it over there. Which one was this?"
"It was the fourth, milord."
"Two more and the Great Art will be complete. Can you finish it within the day?"
"Of course. Hehe. We might run out of boxes to put them in, but we'll never run out of things to put in the boxes."
"Excellent. Your reward shall not be light; I will pay you double what was promised."
"It is an honor, milord!"
The martial artists who had dropped off the box moved away, their voices full of glee.
Roughly guessing, there were at least three other boxes of corpses piled up, and they planned to bring at least two more.
Running out of boxes but not running out of things to put in them, huh...
'They really must have killed every single commoner in the village.'
As if she were thinking the same thing, Murong Cheong's grip on my hand tightened.
She squeezed so hard my finger throbbed, so I quickly tapped the back of her hand.
The pressure soon relaxed.
I listened to the outside, and once it was completely silent, I whispered to her.
"Let's head out slowly."
"...Yes..."
Her voice sounded somewhat drained.
Even as I slowly opened the box, Murong Cheong did nothing but stare at me, her hands fidgeting.
She didn't seem to have any intention of helping.
I mean, did she grow up being treated like royalty or something?
I'm also a direct descendant of a Great Clan who's never touched a drop of dishwater. Honestly.
As I grumbled inwardly and climbed out of the box, Murong Cheong finally pulled herself out slowly and kept her distance from me.
"What's with you all of a sudden?"
"Um. Uh... Mmm."
"What?"
"The rain? I was wondering if I should... get hit by some rain... Or the sea? Maybe jumping into the sea for a bit would be okay..."
"What kind of nonsense are you talking about now?"
"You... you smell terrible. You smell like a corpse. You look like a walking corpse right now. You're no different from a Jiangshi."
"Why only me? You've got a finger hanging off your shoulder right now."
"...!!!"
As Murong Cheong flailed, about to scream, I quickly approached, covered her mouth, and whispered.
"Joke! Can't you take a joke? If you scream, we're really dead this time!"
At my words, Murong Cheong glared at me for a long time before biting down hard on the palm covering her mouth. It hurt.
"Choose your... time and place. It is difficult to adapt to the frivolous speech typical of the Han people. You people should learn from us. We are elegant, composed, and sincere people."
"I said I'm sorry."
I gave a half-hearted reply and scanned our surroundings.
Fortunately, it seemed no one had noticed our presence.
Most of the signs of life were coming from above us.
Judging by the loud sound of rain, that was likely the deck.
Workers were running around various parts of the ship on the deck.
We were currently in the cargo hold of the smuggling ship.
"Where do we go now?"
"Let's search the cargo hold and then head down."
"Down?"
"Smuggling ships usually have two levels in the cargo hold."
The Dragon Slaying Alliance, of course, possessed smuggling ships as well.
It was something of a trend for the Great Clans of the Murim in this era to own at least one if their sect was near a river or canal.
Whether it was for transporting people, supplies, or goods prohibited by the Great Ming Code, a smuggling ship was a tool with infinite uses just by maintaining it.
Especially since using the canals was fundamentally faster than using the official roads.
And naturally, since it was a cargo ship committing illegal acts, it was common to divide the cargo hold into two levels.
The upper level would be loaded with goods that could be overlooked with a bribe if caught, while the lower level would hold items that even a bribe couldn't cover.
While it was very rare for a ship flying the colors of the Dragon Slaying Alliance to be inspected, I’d heard that occasionally government officials would conduct inspections for the purpose of soliciting bribes.
In such cases, if you just showed them the first level, the officials would pretend to be fooled, take the money, and move on.
It was easier to think of it as a form of mutual benefit where both sides conveniently looked the other way.
I should explain that the capitalist system of medieval China was developed beyond imagination.
"We can look for your uncle on the way back. Remember we had two goals for coming here?"
"To find out what the Jinzhou Yan Family and the Jongri Family are plotting... Yes. I was being short-sighted. It's more efficient to secure that first."
Murong Cheong accepted this and began searching the cargo hold with me.
The cargo boxes, loosely tied with nets, were all filled with corpses, strange vessels, incense, drugs, and talismans.
Aside from the lack of blood because the corpses were mostly intact, this felt less like a smuggling ship and more like a dungeon for summoning some demon from hell.
The genres are getting mixed up here.
Murong Cheong's face turned pale as well.
She was struggling to check the boxes, her lips bitten white with rage and disgust.
Searching the entire cargo hold took quite some time.
Since it was the hold of such a large ship, just checking the items required a fair amount of effort.
Soon, Murong Cheong called me from a corner of the hold.
"Look at this."
"Hmm... Do you know what it is?"
"It's a ritual array of the Left-Path Faction. I have no expertise in that area, so I'm not entirely sure, but it's a ritual array that hasn't been completed yet. And the scale... is incredibly large."
"Is it that big?"
"I know nothing of the Left-Path Faction's techniques themselves. But I have the eye to recognize the items placed here."
The Murong Family served as a bridge between the Jurchen, the North Sea, Joseon, and the Central Plains.
Because they were settled right in front of Shanhaiguan, most merchants heading to Beijing passed through the Murong Family's lands in Liaoning.
It was a situation similar to the Demonic Cult, which controlled the trade routes to the Western Regions via the Silk Road.
The Murong Family was incredibly wealthy, and as a born Murong, she couldn't help but have an excellent eye for calculating the value of goods.
She pointed at various things as she spoke.
"That is sulfur; it's difficult to obtain in this region. Looking at the color and surface, it's of extremely high quality. The cinnabar is also top-grade. You have to use proper cinnabar for it to have an orange glow when light hits the red. It's a luxury item mixed with gold dust. Even the level of processing for the monkshood is surprising, and the tiger's eye stone is at a level even I have never seen before. The funds invested here would be enough to make crates out of solid gold."
"And it includes five crates of commoners' corpses."
"Yes. Whatever the Jongri Family's sorcerers are preparing, this is no ordinary Great Art. If the Jinzhou Yan Family assisted in such foul sorcery, it wouldn't be strange for them to become public enemies of the Murim."
"Tsk..."
I couldn't say anything because I knew nothing about sorcery.
It was because Confucius had been so adamant about not even speaking of "extraordinary things, feats of strength, disorder, and spiritual beings."
Looking at this mess, the Sage's words were truly spot on.
Confucianism, a study of reason and logic, thoroughly rejects such practices.
"Let's head down. Unless you can read incantations, there's nothing more to see here."
"Yes."
If the first level, which they deemed okay to be seen by others, was like this, what on earth was below it?
Has the ethics of the medieval Murim truly gone insane?
Finding the hatch to the lower level wasn't difficult.
Perhaps because there was frequent traffic, or because it was considered such a secure secret location, there were no defenses at all.
Seeing the smeared bloodstains, we swallowed hard and opened the door.
With the sound of a rusty hinge creaking, the door opened.
A thick stench of blood wafted up.
Even as we climbed down the small ladder, it only grew more intense.
After taking a slow breath, I lit a fire starter.
With a hiss, I quickly touched the burning wick to a torch mounted on the wall.
Immediately, the scene of the cramped interior was revealed.
"...!!"
Beside me, I heard Murong Cheong gasp.
"Ghhh... Hhhh..."
And further away, at the edge of the torchlight, I saw something hanging.
Blood-stained iron chains were scattered everywhere. I ignored them and walked forward.
Soon, the figure of a middle-aged man bound in chains came into view.
Half-naked, the man hung there, his entire body covered in horrific wounds.
Seeing the blood-soaked blindfold over his eyes... it seemed his sight had been taken.
Below his navel, near his dantian, was a deep knife wound.
His dantian hadn't just been destroyed. It had been... ripped out.
"Uncle...!!"
Murong Cheong ran forward, her voice trembling with tears.
She stood before the man's body, her shaking hand reaching out toward him cautiously.
"Cheong...? Is that you, Cheong...?"
"Uncle... Uncle...! How, how could this... What has happened to you...! Just what...!"
After that, Murong Cheong and the man spoke for a long time in a language I had never heard before.
It seemed to be a northern dialect.
A moment later, when Murong Cheong turned back, she was looking at me with eyes brimming with tears.
"Let's... let's go back."
"Is the job done?"
"I have learned everything I needed to know. Just, just a moment... please."
Murong Cheong, who was trying her best to speak calmly, grabbed the back of my robe and sobbed for a long time.
Soon, with a trembling hand, she gripped the hilt of her sword.
Sring. The sound of a blade leaving its scabbard echoed.
"Don't... don't look back... please. I don't... I don't want you to see me like this."
"What about a rescue?"
"It's already too late. My uncle cannot survive. And... even if he could..."
I think I knew what the rest of those words were.
She meant it would be impossible to safely escape from the heart of enemy territory while dragging a critically ill patient with such injuries.
This was a form of euthanasia.
I heard the man stroke Murong Cheong's cheek and say something in a warm voice.
Soon, with a wet slicing sound, the voice cut off.
The sound of sobbing continued for a long time.
And then, clack. The sound of a blade returning to its scabbard.
Murong Cheong approached my back and gripped my robe again.
"I want... I want revenge. I want revenge."
"Let's do that, then."
"But, but... it's too dangerous. We won't survive."
"Then we'll die."
"What are you saying...? We, we, we have to live!"
"Among the many righteous words Confucius spoke, there is this saying."
If a man hears the Way in the morning, he may die in the evening without regret. (朝聞道夕死可矣. — The Analects: Li Ren)
"And in my family, the 'Way' (Do) has always meant the 'Blade' (Do)."
Cultivating a mindset of: Don't live on your knees. Die on your feet. Including many teachings like: Don't be a coward. What's the worst that can happen, you die?
When you're born into a hot-blooded lineage with this natural-born rebellious streak and receive that kind of character education for longer than the mandatory education period in 21st-century Korea, this is what happens.
A feeling that I couldn't just watch her go off and die alone.
A gut feeling that if I helped, we might both live.
Plus a spoonful of calculation: If she makes it back alive, I might have the Murong Family as a backer in the future.
"Let's give it a shot."
I spoke the words our ancestors always said when they picked up a blade to do something.
"Thank... thank... thank you..."
Murong Cheong buried her face in my back and sobbed. It felt damp.