Chapter 64: The Little Rebels (2)
Chapter 64: The Little Rebels (2)
Lately, Ju Woo-rin had been living through days of extreme exhaustion.
"Truly..."
Every morning, she arrived at her office before the first rays of sun touched the sky. After a frantic day at the Hanlin Academy, she headed straight to the academy to teach the Confucian scholars.
By the time her work finally finished, it was the hour of the Ox (between 1:00 AM and 3:00 AM).
The moment she closed her eyes, feeling as if she were losing consciousness, a maid would approach and hurriedly wake her. When she opened her eyes again, it was between the hours of the Tiger and the Rabbit (around 5:00 AM).
Every day, she barely managed to straighten her robes before starting the same routine all over again.
This had been her daily life for three years, ever since she took first place in the Palace Examination.
Even her eighteen-year-old body was barely holding on.
Pressing her fingers against her eyes to soothe the sticky film of fatigue, she was heading home under the dawn sky once again when—
"If you keep this up much longer, you're going to drop dead. You have to take care of your health while you're young."
"…?"
Someone was sitting askew on the threshold of her front gate, watching her.
A man—a young man of sturdy build.
He had a large blade thrust into the ground beside him; he was a martial artist.
In the dim light of the late night, Ju Woo-rin furrowed her brows and stared at the warrior before her.
"Do you know me?"
"Of course I do. Though, I suppose the time we spent together was too short for you to remember me. It’s already been a few years, after all."
"…I do not have many close acquaintances among martial artists. Are you affiliated with the Five Capital Garrisons?"
"I’ve never held an official post, so no."
The man stood up with a relaxed smirk.
Before Ju Woo-rin’s eyes, which were sharp with suspicion and caution, the man casually pushed the gate open for her with a creak.
"I’ll be staying here as a guest for the time being. I look forward to your acquaintance."
"A guest… I see."
Ju Woo-rin was no fool. She was the scholar who had placed first in the Palace Examination at the youngest age in the last two hundred years of the Ming Dynasty, a person praised as a genius by everyone in the Pure Stream Faction.
She was a talent who had survived the halls of government—where people fought with tongue and brush at the risk of their lives—by cutting down others with her pen at the tender age of eighteen.
The brilliance returned to her eyes, which had been clouded by exhaustion.
Her thought process was lightning-fast.
Much like a master of the Peak Realm exchanging opening moves, her eyes scanned the warrior standing at the gate. She assembled fragmented pieces of information in an instant to derive the answer.
A guest entering the home of a Junior Compiler of the Hanlin Academy.
Specifically, the home where Ju Woo-rin resided. In other words, an 'ally' deeply involved in the Pure Stream Faction’s conspiracy.
She filtered for martial artists among such people, then narrowed them down by physical description and age, and finally cross-referenced them with warriors she had known 'a few years ago.'
Then, she examined the man’s features. He was a handsome man with bold, distinct lines. His dark eyes and prominent jawline hinted at the temperament of a Great General.
Rewinding those features back several years to deduce his childhood appearance...
"Ha."
So much had changed. Truly, it is said that if you do not see a scholar for even a day, they will have changed anew. (If you can renovate yourself one day, do so from day to day. Yea, let there be daily renovation. — The Great Learning)
The mischievous, rough eyes of those days had settled into a calm depth.
He still smiled playfully with a bright spark, but within that gaze, a sharp, honed blade seemed to lie dormant, observing her keenly.
It was like the eyes of a tiger. It was the posture of a crouching tiger reading the situation just before the hunt.
As expected of the bloodline of the Hebei Peng Family.
The boy had returned as a man.
At that thought, a bright smile escaped Ju Woo-rin’s lips.
"My, Peng Hyeon-hwi. You’ve certainly grown quite a bit."
"And you haven't grown much at all."
"I still have room to grow, so do not underestimate me. Haha."
"At our age, it’s pretty much over. Because of growth hor—um, the limits of nutritional status…?"
Is this some secret technique of martial artists? Watching Peng Hyeon-hwi mutter incomprehensible words, Ju Woo-rin burst into a loud laugh.
The boy had returned as a man.
Which meant...
It was time to check the seeds sown back then and, if they had ripened sufficiently, to begin the harvest.
"Will you have a drink? An old friend has come to visit, so I cannot let this night pass quietly."
"If you’re offering, I’m taking."
Peng Hyeon-hwi chuckled casually and followed Ju Woo-rin into the manor.
*
I watched Ju Woo-rin, who was smiling brightly as she ordered the maids to prepare a table of drinks.
I could understand why she didn't recognize me at first glance.
She couldn't have kept the features of a brat she’d only seen for three months, seven years ago, perfectly in her memory.
By the same token, I couldn't be certain it was her until I made my own deductions.
She had matured completely.
Her skin was so pale it looked as if it had never seen the sun, and her hair and eyes were as black as ink. Her sharp eyes looked relaxed yet cynical, and her jawline was delicate.
She gave off an impression like a cold blade.
If one set aside prejudice, she looked exactly like the portrait of a virtuous scholar.
a sharp, swaying momentum like a whetted blade emanated from this scholar’s body.
It wasn't martial arts. I couldn't feel a single trace of internal energy cultivation from her.
However, it was a spirit unique to those who have fought for their lives their entire existence.
Or perhaps it was the refined grace seen in those born of noble blood who willingly endure self-flagellation-like hardships.
If she had been a real man, at least half of the noble families in Beijing with daughters would have sent marriage proposals for such elegance.
"What are you staring at?"
"Just thinking about how much you've grown."
"My, to think I would hear such words. Haha."
Ju Woo-rin spoke with a light laugh.
"I would like to reminisce about how you’ve been... but I’ve already grasped your circumstances, and my own are too trivial to even mention, which is a pity."
"You’re quite bold about admitting you did a background check on me."
"What is the problem with that? Wouldn't you have done a background check on me as well?"
"I did. My young Master Jinshi. I heard you became a Junior Compiler at the Hanlin Academy."
"How embarrassing. Yes, aside from the repetition of going to and from the office, my life has been quite uneventful."
Just then, a servant opened the door and brought in a small table laden with food.
The tea table was cleared, and a simple drinking session was prepared.
It wasn't anything grand—just a few modest vegetable side dishes and some baijiu.
Ju Woo-rin skillfully gripped the bottle, poured me a glass, and spoke.
"Entering as a guest at this time... this must be the work of the Hao Clan?"
"That's right."
"The fact that the Hao Clan went out of their way to attach a bodyguard to me means this involves the Eastern Depot or the Eunuch Bureau. Has the West Depot reared its head again?"
As expected, her thought process was as fast as mine.
It was a conversation where neither needed to explain things twice—a dialogue between people who skip the process and deduce the conclusion from the introduction alone.
"We’ve confirmed information that the Sichuan Tang Family has joined hands with the West Depot. Secret guards from the Hao Clan have been attached to all officials belonging to the Pure Stream Faction."
"And among them, you were sent to me. It’s a good choice... one that doesn't stand out too much."
At the very least, in the world of Confucian scholars, the youngest young master of the Hebei Peng Family wouldn't be treated as a particularly grand guest.
The officials in Beijing had a strong tendency to despise martial artists, and it was even worse for the high-ranking officials serving in the Six Ministries of the Imperial Court.
Their worlds were simply too different.
Unless they directly stepped into each other's territory, there was no reason to provoke one another, nor was there any value in doing so.
To those for whom office and power were everything, martial artists—who lived by the blade, fighting and dying among themselves—were no different from people of another world.
As long as they weren't employing them directly, they maintained a line of respecting but not caring, and despising but not being outright rude.
If you asked me my opinion on this attitude...
I’d say their sense of crisis was incredibly low because they were madmen who faced the Emperor and the imperial family every day, stabbing each other with brushes while wagering the extermination of their entire clans.
Anyway.
In that sense, my being attached to Ju Woo-rin was a 'good' selection.
It was reasonable even by the common sense of this era for a warrior with a connection from the academy to enter the private residence of a seemingly unremarkable scholar as a guest to eat and play for a few days.
"Are there ears listening to what goes on in this house?"
"I believe I am safe. If even the walls of this house had ears, my head would have been cut off before I ever reached this position."
"Do the maids know your true identity?"
"They know I am a woman. Do not worry. All the maids in this household are daughters of the Pure Stream Faction."
"...What?"
"Are they not the ones trying to enthrone me at the risk of their families' fates? They are plotting a treason that will result in their extermination if it fails, so they must have calculated that if it succeeds, they can push their daughters in as the closest confidantes of the next Emperor."
The smile never left Ju Woo-rin’s lips.
It wasn't a bright smile, but rather a sinister one—and more than sinister, it was gloomy.
A fishy, twisted smile that seemed to mock the world.
"Even if I ascend to the throne, I must remain a man. And that means I, too, must take consorts. A 'Consort' is not merely a woman of the royal house; it is a highly noble and precious office in itself. When the time comes to take consorts and continue the lineage, I will have to bring in a male child from some collateral branch of the imperial family and announce him as the child born of my consort."
"Well, that’s..."
"Yes, 'that's' indeed."
What a joyless life, she seemed to say.
Ju Woo-rin smirked as she read my expression.
Just as she had her whole life, her future was predestined to be lived as a man.
She was on a train she couldn't get off without dying.
To avoid ending her life miserably as a traitor, she would have to abandon every aspect of herself until the end and reign as the ideal, Confucian Emperor that the Pure Stream Faction desired.
Taking a wife, declaring a child who didn't share a drop of her blood as her son, and continuing the lineage.
A life that existed solely to maintain the imperial succession.
From the moment she was born, she faced the threat of poisoning by her half-siblings and the Queen. She barely survived through the hands of the Queen Dowager and was raised as a commoner.
Patriots who wanted to save the country from a Queen and half-siblings sunken in debauchery and pleasure gathered and raised her—the only surviving direct descendant—as a boy.
By chance.
Or perhaps with cruel malice.
She was far too brilliant. To the point where everyone in the Pure Stream Faction praised her as a sage-king who would bring about an era of great peace.
Because she was such a person, she had come to live her life mocking this destiny she was ordained never to escape—a life where she had never achieved a single thing by her own will.
A genius in a birdcage who could do nothing as she pleased except mock.
Princess Yeonhwa, Ju Woo-rin. She had discarded that name and was now the Hanlin Junior Compiler, Cheon U-rin.
This woman’s sharp spirit and crooked lips were born from such a life.
"Do you even want to be Emperor?"
"What?"
"Excluding the reason that you’ll die if you don't. Excluding the worry about what will happen to this country if it’s not you, and excluding the debt of gratitude to the Pure Stream Faction or the Queen Dowager. Just set all those trivial things aside."
"Aren't those things a bit too large to be called trivial?"
"That’s why I’m asking purely. Do you actually want to be Emperor?"
If you aren't just following orders because you were forced into this life.
"Naturally."
"Why?"
At my question, Ju Woo-rin looked at me and laughed delightfully.
Those eyes, which had seemed empty until now, shone with a dark, murky light, as if her previous expression had been a lie.
"Those noble families who say they revere me to my face, while behind my back they push their daughters into my quarters... even though they know I am a woman."
Her voice continued, sharp as a blade.
"I found that I want to live a life where they kneel and kowtow to me in the Great Hall, praising my achievements."
I could only stare at Ju Woo-rin blankly at those words.
Ju Woo-rin also looked at me with a bright smile and raised her glass.
She lightly tapped her glass against the table.
With a clear clink, both our glasses struck our respective tables rhythmically.
We emptied our baijiu simultaneously and set down the empty glasses.
This person was, how should I put it...
'Similar.'
She was too much like me.
Incompetent siblings aiming for one's life.
Stupid family elders whose certain ruin is obvious if one doesn't take over the succession.
The pressure of being the only one capable of actual thought in the midst of it all.
And.
Ambition.
A thick ambition that could only be satisfied by grasping everything, embracing everything, and bringing everything to its knees.
The ability to achieve it.
And the ambitious people around who, seeing that ability, willingly walk the line while salivating at the chance to exploit it.
All of it looked as if it were reflected in a mirror.
"Is it not so?"
In Ju Woo-rin’s eyes as she looked at me with a fishy smile, I saw that I was wearing the same expression.
Even our way of speaking—ignoring the introduction and development to jump straight to the conclusion—was too similar.
"Well, now."
I said as I poured more liquor into her glass.
"I’ve never had someone so easy to talk to."
"They say those who know each other's hearts are soulmates, and those who know each other's rhythm are 'Zhiyin'."
"I’m afraid your name might be listed right after King Jie and King Zhou. It’s terrifying."
"What are you saying? If we must compare to the ancients, it would be King Wen. As my soulmate, you wouldn't find the position of a Lord of the State beneath you."
I was momentarily impressed by this Confucian banter that finally had some back-and-forth.
It couldn't be helped, as there was no one around me I could have such a conversation with.
King Wen was the founding monarch of the Zhou Dynasty, a sage-king who overthrew the tyranny of King Zhou of Shang and established an era of peace.
And the 'Lord of the State' by his side was the familiar Taigong Wang—Jiang Ziya.
In other words, she was indirectly tempting me by saying that if I helped her plot this treason, she would give me a position 'Below One Person, Above Ten Thousand.'
I raised my glass, wetting my lips as I quickly organized my thoughts.
'If she succeeds in the rebellion, the Hebei Peng Family will receive the Emperor’s protection. Not just at an average level, but as the greatest prestigious family under heaven.'
'And she likely won't appoint me to an official government post. She’ll think the Hebei Peng Family is more valuable as a martial arts clan.'
Assuming she thought in a similar way to me, it wasn't hard to reverse-engineer her thoughts by asking, 'What would I do?'
The Hebei Peng Family is more valuable as a martial arts clan.
Considering the vague non-aggression between the scholars and the martial world, and especially from the Emperor's perspective where all martial sects are bothersome local magnates with private armies—if one cannot overhaul the martial world entirely, the best option is—
'To elevate one family that has become the Emperor’s hands and feet to the pinnacle and have them reign.'
If the Hebei Peng Family, reigning over all the Black Path sects in Northern China, is made an ally, it means at the very least that the martial world of Northern China is loyal to the Emperor.
Furthermore, if the Hebei Peng Family is grown through the active support and protection of the Imperial Court, the Orthodox sects throughout the Central Plains would be no different.
Therefore, if the treason succeeds, the Hebei Peng Family will become the number one family under heaven.
'Below One Person, Above Ten Thousand' usually refers to the position of Prime Minister, but in this case, it was different.
The world ultimately belongs to the Emperor, so the ambition that the martial world must also be at the Emperor’s feet.
And the space between the martial world and the Emperor.
A promise to give me the position where I could rule everyone under heaven, beneath only one person.
This massive ambition was shining intensely in her eyes.
'Not bad.'
I emptied my glass in one gulp and grabbed the neck of the baijiu bottle.
Then, reaching my hand across the table, I squeezed the bottle in the air until it shattered.
As the droplets of liquor scattered onto the floor, I spoke.
"Spilled water cannot be gathered back." (Jiang Ziya)
It’s a famous anecdote of Jiang Ziya. It means a promise once broken cannot be undone.
Here, it was used with the exact opposite meaning of the original anecdote, but there was no way Ju Woo-rin, who had alluded to King Wen, wouldn't understand.
Indeed, at my answer, Ju Woo-rin smiled brightly and emptied her glass.
According to the customs of medieval China, this was a non-verbal expression signifying that an alliance had been formed.
We two little rebels brought in a new bottle of wine and shared glasses as we talked long into the night.
Well, what happens if the treason fails?
We’ll die.
But even if she doesn't become Emperor, the moment her half-brother ascends to the throne with the White Lotus Cult at his back, Northern China is destined to be scorched earth anyway.
Our family, which has crossed the White Lotus Cult, would be exterminated regardless.
So, this was a proletarian-style last stand where we had nothing to lose and the whole world to gain.
And even more so.
'If the Hebei Peng Family is what she needs to ascend the throne!'
Until I at least become the Young Family Head, she has no choice but to help me unilaterally.
What else could she do? It’s not like she can use the Peng Family just because a youngest son with no authority is dipping his toes into her treason.
"I feel like I’m losing out a bit, but..."
Ju Woo-rin looked at me and smirked.
"Looking at you, I don't feel like I’m losing at all. I look forward to working with you, Peng Hyeon-hwi."
In other words, she would do her utmost to help me become the head of the Peng Family.
And after that, until the most powerful martial group in Northern China effectively became her private army, paradoxically, she wouldn't be able to carry out the treason on her own.
With a few words, I had handed her a leash, and this audacious little rebel had willingly wrapped it around her own neck.
The moment her wish is fulfilled, that leash will conversely be placed on me, but regardless.
I had stopped the Pure Stream Faction from impulsively trying to push a rebellion in Northern China only to collapse.
The fact that I gained an unconditional ally until the great work is finished was a bonus.
'Grandfather will be pleased if I tell him we don't need to send bribes to the Pure Stream Faction for the time being.'
Our family maintained its power by paying massive amounts of gold to officials throughout Northern China.
Well, since Ju Woo-rin has bet on me like this, what are they going to do if we don't give them money? Are they going to become our enemies?
Since I’ve saved on expenses for the Pure Stream Faction, which occupies half of the Beijing government, I expect the elders of the Hall of Ten Thousand Blessings will practically carry me on their backs.
And the family money saved that way will, well, all be mine within ten years at the latest.
"It’s good wine."
"Ah, yes. It is one of my few hobbies."
The wine was sweet.