All Are One, One Is All (1)
Exhausted faces emerged one by one from the formation shrouded in swirling mist. Jegal Gyeom, the head of the Jegal Clan, nodded in satisfaction as he added strokes to the paper with his brush.
"Ihan. You're truly my son."
Jegal Ihan knelt and pressed his hand to the ground. Thick drool dripped from his mouth, connecting his chin to the earth.
More people burst out one after another. Those who escaped the formation all wore expressions of terror and agony etched into their very bodies. Jegal Gyeom swept his proud gaze over the crowd.
"Daughter."
"Yes."
Jegal Gyeom glanced to the side. There sat Jegal Yeon, diligently recording something.
"Are you keeping good records?"
"Yes."
"What did I say this formation is called?"
"The Heavenly Pivot Kongming Illusion Array."
"That's right. It's the formation that will elevate our Jegal Clan to the pinnacle."
Jegal Yeon anxiously eyed the branch family warriors who had stumbled out. She wasn't deeply versed in martial arts, but even she knew that such rapid growth in such a short time was unnatural. What on earth was happening inside that formation to produce such astonishing progress?
"Curious, aren't you?"
"Pardon?"
"Those in the outer sect must master hiding their expressions, dealing with so many people. You're sorely lacking in that regard—you show it so plainly."
"I-I'm sorry."
"It's fine, daughter. No one's perfect from the start. Guiding immature children is what adults do, isn't it?"
Jegal Gyeom fanned himself with his white silk fan and let out a hearty laugh. Even in the growing summer heat, a chill emanated from the fan. He was infusing it with yin qi.
"But don't pry."
"...Yes."
"You have your duties in the outer sect, and they have theirs. Time's too short to focus on anything else."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Still, people crawled out one by one, their eyes half-mad. They looked so grave that they needed support, but Jegal Yeon couldn't help them. Recording was the only task permitted to her.
"Have you severed all of Wudang's connections?"
"Yes. We've pressured the merchant groups in the name of the Jegal Clan to halt their movements as much as possible."
"Well done."
Jegal Yeon stole a glance at Jegal Gyeom's expression. Though she'd handled it herself, she felt uneasy. After all, they were picking a fight with Wudang, which held one of the seats in the Nine Great Sects and One Gang.
The Shaolin Temple amassed vast wealth under the guise of merits and donations, so money wasn't an issue for them. But Wudang espoused non-action as its root, a Taoist path.
Naturally, they maintained only the minimal ties to the world, living leisurely. That's why so many were shocked when Wudang started a warehouse leasing business.
"Ah, but, Clan Head."
"We're not in formal session now. Call me Father."
"...Yes, Father. The Murim Alliance is sending someone to mediate."
"Predictable. That's all they ever do."
Jegal Gyeom snorted derisively. But Jegal Yeon still looked worried.
He dismissed the Murim Alliance as nothing, but it was still the collective of the orthodox sects. Its influence across the Central Plains was not to be ignored.
"When are they coming?"
"They left Beijing yesterday, so about half a month."
"Their mediation proposal will be obvious."
"The resolution for clashes between great sects is always the same."
Jegal Yeon nodded vigorously. They'd anticipated the Alliance's mediation and started the quarrel accordingly.
"This incident will make us the hegemons of Hubei."
"Of course. After all our preparations."
Having long served in the outer sect, Jegal Yeon knew how hard the inner sect warriors had toiled. In recent years, the clan's outer branch had swept up physicians, pharmacists, golden sore salves, and elixirs across the Central Plains.
"No one will call us mere descendants of Kongming anymore. We'll etch it in their minds that the Jegal Clan is a true martial house. And we'll aim even higher—for the throne of the world's greatest martial clan."
"Yes, exactly."
"I can't wait to see how those pretentious Taoists react."
Jegal Gyeom burst into laughter. The branch warriors were still writhing in the formation's aftereffects.
I drummed my fingers on the desk. Master and my seniors had returned right away. All Master did was have me demonstrate my Cloud Mist Sword Method once, then nodded without a word. No faults to pick, I supposed. That's what I'd go with.
"You really are a Wudang disciple."
"Pardon?"
Jo Choong-hyeon's out-of-left-field comment halted my fingers.
"You're such an outstanding merchant, I keep forgetting you're a Wudang disciple."
"Merchant first, Wudang disciple second."
"Still, I haven't heard of a lay disciple warranting a descent from Wudang Mountain like this."
True, but I was a named lay disciple, unlike the others. At this point, though, what difference was there from a main peak disciple? Especially if my presence soured relations with a great family like the Jegal Clan.
"I thought you'd go back to Wudang with them."
"Now? No way. Things are at their busiest."
"Fair enough. But you went last time."
"Wasn't busy then. Just stocked the Green Forest Twelve Styles' warehouse and called it a day."
Then and now were worlds apart. Back then, I had nothing as caravan master; now, everything demanded my attention.
Especially seizing the market share from Hyunhan Merchant Group—this was a golden opportunity. Word in merchant circles was they couldn't even pay the interest on their wartime loans.
My chest throbbed intermittently. Like a sharp thorn embedded, stabbing toward my heart.
"Deputy Leader."
"Yes."
"Could we get some intel on the Wudang-Jegal Clan situation?"
"Of course. But..."
"But?"
"Info on the Nine Great Sects and Five Families costs a premium. We'd have to cut at least three hires."
"Hm."
I could get it for free back at Wudang Mountain, but round trips to Hyunhan and Gyunhyeon took ten days. To grasp the situation now, I'd have to buy it.
My fingers tapped the desk. The caravan was mine. Wudang was not. Logically, ignoring it made sense.
I hadn't asked them to fight for me. Wudang would handle it fine.
"Leader?"
"Look into it."
The words slipped out unbidden. Jo Choong-hyeon widened his eyes slightly—clearly unexpected. Fair enough; I hadn't expected it either.
At that moment, the throbbing in my chest stopped. Like the thorn had been pulled, leaving cool relief.
"Making me worry for nothing."
I grumbled loud enough for Jo Choong-hyeon to hear. Childish, but it came out on its own. He smiled faintly.
"I'll go check, then."
"Yes."
"You really like Wudang, Leader."
Jo Choong-hyeon slipped out after that. Idle comment for him, but it struck me like a koan.
"Like Wudang," huh...
I drummed my fingers again. I'd dismissed sect loyalty as worthless. This bore some thought.
First, I handled the backlog from entertaining Master and seniors. Met distributors, escort agency heads, battlefield managers.
Back then, two rounds a day left me drained, yet my body held up fine from training.
Finishing today's schedule, I returned to the caravan at dawn. Papers on the desk—Jo Choong-hyeon's summary, no doubt.
I sat and flipped through. As expected: Wudang-Jegal dispute and current status.
Page by page. No reason for the clash here—a lay disciple wouldn't convince anyone.
Something's already happened.
I recalled Cheong-hwa's casual "Nothing serious." But the Jegal Clan moved fast, severing Wudang's trade lines.
Wudang kept distance from vulgar merchant caravans and escort agencies. So others naturally sided with Jegal. Or Jegal forced them. I'd do the same—merchants heed the higher power.
Wudang wasn't flush with cash; they were weak at spending and saving it.
Cut off from partners, they'd buy retail at premium prices—most merchants wouldn't deal with Wudang anyway. Their meager finances would dry up soon.
And this had dragged on, so Wudang must be strapped now.
Wasted effort looking.
Truly wasted. Contrary to hopes, Wudang had no countermeasures.
Makes sense against such pragmatic tactics. Wudang's pride was martial might alone. But they couldn't risk blades against fellow orthodox Jegal.
Still, Jegal's boldness puzzled me. Provoking a stronger force? They had some ace up their sleeve.
I finished reading and went to file it away, but a corner note in tiny script caught my eye.
—You can go if you wish. I'll tidy up here.
"Heh."
Familiar handwriting. I saw it daily on approvals. Jo Choong-hyeon's, of course.
Somehow, his smile shone through the script. Felt like he'd pierced my heart while quietly sleeping at home.
Disqualified as a merchant.
No benefit to the caravan, no personal gain, no justification to meddle. The unholy trinity of inefficiency.
Yet my cunning mind unearthed a pretext amid it all.
I have to repay them.
Wudang's martial arts. Named lay disciple privilege. Unreturned debts.
Why hadn't I realized? Their gifts weren't obligatory.
Sure, I chose to stay—but I'd wanted to flee in the night at first. Still, they gave me arts, Master, seniors.
And crucially, as a merchant, I always settled debts.
Mindset.
No one in the jianghu would credit them for sheltering me. Just another lay disciple.
Yet Wudang risked feud with Jegal to protect me. Once the thought took root, reasons to defend them piled like mountains. Amazing I'd overlooked it till now.
"Alright."
I could succeed without poaching Hyunhan's empty slots. I believed in that much.