The Old Man's Priceless Gift
"What a remarkable blade. Truly remarkable! From the look of it, the craftsmanship is foreign as well—no, not Ming, I'd wager. A Joseon master's work…… Now tell me, how on earth did you get your hands on it?"
"It was no easy feat. But neither was it impossible."
"Is that so?"
Hong-wi answered with perfect calm, and at those words Onyan Isiha furrowed his brow.
"Impressive, indeed. But I confess, a blade like this does not sit well with me. In my prime, I too was a warrior who feared nothing—yet a sword can wound not only the man it strikes, but the man who swings it."
For an instant, a shadow of grief seemed to sweep across Onyan Isiha's face.
He continued in a subdued voice.
"It is not that we have no need of weapons. If we did, how would anyone survive this rugged land? And those things there……"
He gestured at the silks and delicate ornaments spread across the floor, then went on.
"Judged one by one, they are peerless masterworks. But for a country elder living out his days in seclusion, they are hardly fitting. Grand descendant of the imperial house though I may be, what worth is there in being royalty of a nation long since fallen? The truth is this—nothing matters more to me than keeping those who follow me fed and clothed."
Despite the old man's lukewarm reception, Hong-wi's expression remained utterly serene.
"Indeed, it seems I have not called on the wrong elder. In truth, these are nothing more than a small token of respect for your household."
At Hong-wi's words, Onyan Isiha's eyebrows twitched.
He studied Hong-wi for a long moment.
"Not the wrong elder……? What do you mean by that?"
"Though we are merchants, we do not sell our goods to just anyone. Put simply, we choose our buyers as carefully as we choose our wares. If our goods were to be used to spill innocent blood, or to serve those who oppress others, we too would turn away from such a sale. Hearing you speak just now, I knew I had misjudged no one."
Hong-wi continued.
"In fact, I have prepared something that will truly be of use to you, Elder. If you would step outside, I will show you."
"Hm……"
Onyan Isiha's face remained unchanged, yet a flicker of curiosity had plainly taken root.
A moment later, he nodded slowly.
"Ha! So you're saying you were testing me, young man? What a bold creature you are!"
Onyan Isiha burst into a hearty laugh.
"Truly an audacious fellow. Well then—shall we go and see?"
Tung Jugang stepped forward and helped the old man to his feet.
Age had bent his back somewhat, but he still stood tall and hale.
Standing nearby, Ho-in found himself wondering, quite suddenly, how old the Grand Chieftain was. He had to be past seventy at the very least.
They stepped out into the open.
Hong-wi gestured toward the procession waiting outside.
"These are the gifts prepared for you, Elder, and for this village."
"Hm……"
For the first time, genuine astonishment transformed Onyan Isiha's face.
The village elders, too, gaped and murmured among themselves.
"All of this—for me, and for our village?"
"Yes."
Hong-wi nodded and went on.
"Strong bulls fit for breeding stock, and four cows besides. Farm implements of every kind, and separately prepared bolts of cloth and daily necessities for the villagers."
During his time in Hwangseongpyeong, Hong-wi had gathered whatever information he could about Onyan Isiha. The intelligence was sparse, but it had been enough for him to judge that the Grand Chieftain prized the welfare of his village above his own advancement.
Chieftain Chahar of Sahalcha had said much the same.
And above all, the scene of the village he had witnessed upon arriving here proved his judgment correct yet again.
For such a man, Hong-wi reasoned, goods precious but ultimately useless would hold far less appeal than things that could actually improve his people's lives.
Oxen for the fields, farm implements, and daily necessities—those were precisely it.
And in this very moment, Hong-wi's instincts told him he had judged true.
"Magnificent."
Onyan Isiha was deeply impressed.
He turned back to Hong-wi and said,
"Many merchants have come to Anchuunbugu over the years, but you are the first ever to bring me a tribute such as this. More than that—it has been long since I met a young man so audacious. Choosing your buyers as carefully as your wares, you say……? Ha! I like it. I like it precisely because of that."
"I am glad it pleases you."
Hong-wi spoke quietly.
"In truth, there was a message entrusted to me for you, Elder."
"A message?"
Hong-wi drew a black arrow from within his robes and presented it.
Onyan Isiha took it in hand.
"From the fletching, this is Sahalcha work. And the markings scratched into the shaft—those belong to the village of Tumuteu. So you met Chahar, did you?"
"Yes."
Hong-wi nodded.
Onyan Isiha's face grew distant with thought.
"The last time I laid eyes on Chahar was some thirty years ago, at an Ijara. He was a hot-blooded young whelp then…… and I heard he succeeded his father's seat more than twenty years past. How did this come into your hands?"
Hong-wi gave a brief account of everything that had happened.
"……And so, Chieftain Chahar asked me to deliver this into your hands."
"I see."
Onyan Isiha stroked the arrow in silence.
"And yet you showed me nothing of this until now."
"It was not my wish to."
"Not your wish!"
Onyan Isiha let out a great laugh.
"What a shameless scoundrel you are. But I don't dislike it—not one bit. This may leave you a bit deflated, but if I speak plainly—I already knew."
"You did?"
Hong-wi smiled awkwardly.
"Did I not tell you? Though my body sits here in Anchuunbugu, I am far from ignorant of what stirs in Jianzhou. Ah, but the slaughter of the Ban clan of Sahalcha—what a tragedy! Young men cut down in their prime and innocent folk butchered, all for the vain ambition of one old man. How can one not grieve?"
Onyan Isiha let out a long, bitter sigh.
"As I said before, even before you set foot in these lands, the name of Temusi-i had already reached my ears. That even the young men of Jianzhou hold one so fine and resolute as you—truly rare it is. All should take you as their example."
"You honor me too much."
"How can I, when it is the simple truth? But ah—though word pours in daily of Lee Man-ju's villainy growing ever bolder, I find I can do nothing about it. I hear you were ambushed by ruffians on your way here?"
"We were. But thanks to Master Tung Jugang there, disaster was averted."
Tung Jugang gave a slight bow of his head.
"Men of that stripe have been running rampant through every corner of Jianzhou Guard of late. It cannot be spoken of openly, but behind them stands Kunaha—Lee Go-nap-hap—lending his patronage. And behind him stands Lee Man-ju. A whelp drunk on his father's power, running wild. Thanks to him, it is only the honest, powerless tribes who suffer. Jugang."
"Yes, Elder."
Tung Jugang answered.
"The one this Master Temusi-i subdued earlier—that was Bushuku, was it not?"
"It was."
"One of the scoundrels stirring up trouble across Jianzhou these days. In the old days, bold wanderers roamed the land aiding the weak and punishing the wicked—now the lawless hold sway everywhere. A sorry state of affairs. Of late, they've even pushed their depredations as far as Anchuunbugu itself."
"Word has it that even in Jianzhou, none dare disregard the Elder's word."
Hong-wi paused, then continued.
"Even a man like Lee Man-ju."
"That is all in the past, I fear. An empty name grown lofty for nothing—that is how it came to be. And because of that hollow name, Lee Man-ju keeps a needless watch on us, and my people suffer for it. Is that not a sorry thing as well? Now……"
Onyan Isiha smiled a lonely smile.
"Now, I am old and ailing. Nothing more than a trifling old man who worries only for the welfare of the children who will be left alone when I am gone."
He sighed.
Hong-wi caught a glimpse of the old man's anguish.
The elders around them all wore expressions of quiet grief.
"I have shown an outsider an unsightly spectacle. But you have come all this way, so you must be treated as befits a guest. Would a paltry reception do for Temusi-i, the hero of Sahalcha? Take a meal, and rest yourselves from your journey."
"Thank you for your kindness, Elder."
Hong-wi bowed deeply in courtesy.
Onyan Isiha gazed upon Hong-wi and his party with soft, gentle eyes.
Until the meal was ready, Hong-wi's party was shown to a separate room to wait.
"That old man, Onyan Isiha—he certainly doesn't look ordinary. But I confess, he's a bit of a disappointment."
Ho-in said.
"Really? He didn't strike me that way."
"When I heard Chahar speak of him, I thought the old man must command some force capable of subduing all of Jianzhou."
"Friend, if he were that kind of man, Joseon would have taken his measure long ago."
Cha Gyeong-yeon said with a grin.
He turned to Hong-wi and went on.
"He is a sharp one, that elder. The people say that Onyan Isiha's two eyes can see clear through ten fathoms of water, and that though he sits within Anchuunbugu, he gazes a thousand li beyond its walls. They're not wrong."
"Yes—truly not wrong."
Hong-wi nodded as well.
For just an instant, he had felt as though Onyan Isiha had already seen through to his true identity.
"Then what do you expect us to do? Even the old man admitted it—he can do nothing about Lee Man-ju……"
"Bear this in mind: Onyan Isiha's strength does not come from physical might. In his prime, his vigor was considerable, no doubt…… but even in Hwangseongpyeong, such rumors occasionally circulated. They say even Lee Man-ju dreaded crossing blades with him in his youth—back when Onyan Isiha served as a general under Tung Mentemu. Few dare speak of it aloud, for fear it might reach Lee Man-ju's ears. Regardless—the old man's power flows from the spiritual authority of imperial descent, and from the authority born of years, wisdom, and experience. Even Lee Man-ju cannot afford to ignore that."
"Well, he certainly seems a fine man. If only someone thoughtful and prudent like that elder could rise to power instead of a scoundrel like Lee Man-ju. If Lee Man-ju becomes the hegemon of Jianzhou, it will be a catastrophe."
Ho-in shuddered, as if recalling the horrors he had witnessed in Sahalcha.
"That much is true."
Hong-wi agreed.
Just then, a villager came from outside to announce that the banquet was ready.
The feast prepared by Grand Chieftain Onyan Isiha was lavish.
Generous hospitality toward guests was a long-standing custom among the frontier tribes, but Hong-wi also discovered that his own renown had already spread further than he knew—as the Savior of Sahalcha.
Moreover, word that he had dared stand against that very Lee Go-nap-hap in Hwangseongpyeong had only burnished his reputation further.
Thankfully for Ho-in, this meal suited his palate tolerably well.
Not that it was entirely satisfying—but compared to the tribal cooking he had first sampled in Sahalcha, it was at least edible.
Still, they might at least have bothered to season it properly.
Hong-wi, meanwhile, was exchanging pleasant conversation with Onyan Isiha.
What Hong-wi wished to know was how far the reach of the Joseon court extended into these lands.
"When I was in Joseon, I never once heard the Elder's honored name mentioned."
"Hm, is that so?"
Onyan Isiha replied, his face already flushed from several cups of mayuju.
"Then all the better. I had little desire to attract Joseon's attention. Ah—but do not mistake me; I bear Joseon no particular grudge. To put it precisely, we are not the Beonho, the registered tribes who submitted to your Joseon, but neither are we the Jeokho, the hostile raiders. Call us neutral, I suppose. Mm—another cup, if you would."
As Hong-wi filled the old man's cup, he thought to himself.
Even if my uncle Suyang sends men here, they will hardly be able to hunt me openly.
Hong-wi was just about to ask another question when the pleasantly tipsy Onyan Isiha suddenly called out.
"Ah—come in, come in! The cup is empty at just the wrong moment. Pour a drink for our guest, child."
"Yes, Father."
Hong-wi turned—and saw a young girl just entering the room.
In that instant, he could not help but marvel at her pure, unblemished beauty.
She was perhaps fourteen, fifteen?—an age when a girl had only just shed her girlishness and was stepping into young womanhood.
Her jet-black hair, dark as ebony, was braided down her back, and she carried a rare beauty shot through with a wild, untamed charm.
Her eyes sparkled with curiosity at the unfamiliar guests, and an untouched innocence shone fresh within them.
"You're drinking too much, Father."
"Hm? Ahaha, it's fine, it's fine. Pour the cup, child, go on."
Onyan Isiha, forgetting all his dignity, laughed without guile.
She pouted briefly, but soon lowered her head quietly and filled the mayuju cup.
The moment her breath reached him, Hong-wi found himself turning his head away of its own accord.
For a fleeting instant, his wife's face had surfaced in his mind.
Once the maiden had withdrawn, he asked Onyan Isiha in a low voice.
"Who is she?"
At Hong-wi's question, Onyan Isiha laughed heartily and raised his cup.
"Ah, she is my daughter. The light of my life in these twilight years. She grew up beautiful, the very image of her late mother…… You think so too, do you not?"
Hong-wi raised his cup along with the old man and murmured,
"If it is no offense, I do see it."
At those words, Onyan Isiha smiled softly.
"I lost my only son, Temur, long ago, so she is the last of my blood. If only I could find her a trustworthy husband, my heart would finally be at ease……"
The old man's smile looked somehow lonely.
"And it is because of her, in truth, that I cannot simply stand against Lee Man-ju. I have passed my seventieth year. Any day now would not be too soon for me to die. Once I am gone, who will be left to look after her?"
He sighed.
Hong-wi gazed at him steadily.
Onyan Isiha seemed about to say something more, but closed his mouth instead.
Had he felt, under the influence of the drink, that he had already said too much?
Just then, the Grand Chieftain's daughter drew near once more.