Chapter 412: Beijing (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 412: Beijing (4)
A seamless wall enclosed the massive golden city.
In front of the Outer City, which encircled the vast expanse of Beijing, a cloud of dust erupted before the heavily guarded checkpoint.
A circular shockwave gouged deep into the earth, sending ripples through the sand.
This was the land where the Emperor resided.
It was a place none had dared to trespass, save for the remnants of the Yuan Dynasty who had mastered mounted martial arts, and the Northern God of War in his youth.
Even the people waiting in the long queue before the checkpoint possessed an air of extraordinary nobility. Yet, at this sudden bolt from the blue, the fine horses pulling their carriages reared high on their hind legs. The nobles of Beijing were showered in dust, throwing the entire scene into utter chaos.
“...At least he didn't destroy the wall or the checkpoint. That much is somehow excusable. Yes... somehow.”
Yong Hee-myung muttered as he descended from the air. Tucked under his arm, Yeon So-ha spoke with a somewhat dazed expression.
“I can roughly guess how the Divine Sword Corps will change in the future.”
“Well... I suppose he's better than the old man of the previous generation. At least he didn't hurt anyone.”
It was exactly as Yong Hee-myung said.
The long spear Jeong Yeon-shin had thrown back was embedded right between the feet of a middle-aged man in yellow official robes.
The ground around the impact had sunk slightly, marked by prominent, spiderweb-like cracks.
The dozen or so martial artists surrounding the middle-aged man as guards stood frozen in place, staring up at Jeong Yeon-shin's group.
They were all military officials clad in blue.
And in their very center stood the middle-aged man, his lips twisted in bewilderment. Embroidered across his chest was a single dragon. A Blue Dragon.
It was a design that no one in the vast city of Beijing could wear without the Emperor's explicit permission.
Yong Hee-myung stroked his chin.
“A Flying Fish Robe... I recognize him. He is the Deputy Commandant of the Embroidered Uniform Guard. His spear-throwing skills have improved quite a bit.”
“They improved?”
Jeong Yeon-shin asked in disbelief. He had only thrown the weapon back because the other party had attacked first, but now he was being told the opponent was from the Embroidered Uniform Guard.
‘Oh dear...’
Having lived for over a decade, Jeong Yeon-shin had spent most of his life in a landlord's household.
He couldn't help but view an institution like the Embroidered Uniform Guard in a special light. They were an extremely honorable group of military officials, even bearing the moniker of 'the Emperor's Sword.'
Among them, the Deputy Commandant was a rare titan in the martial world.
He was the second-in-command among the Embroidered Uniform Guard martial artists who wielded swords on the front lines. He was certainly not someone against whom one should casually unleash a counterattack.
Whether judged by social status or by the perceptions ingrained in Jeong Yeon-shin since childhood, this was a mess.
‘I don't want to look like a ruffian.’
Even as a sense of dismay washed over him, time marched on.
Step.
Jeong Yeon-shin descended alongside Yong Hee-myung as if treading on air, landing lightly in front of the military officials.
The internal power waves spreading from the Yongquan Points on the soles of their feet were swept away like smoke by the hot wind.
Released from Yong Hee-myung's grip, Yeon So-ha stretched his back and cracked his neck from side to side.
A low groan, as if long suppressed, escaped his lips.
The young Blue Rank of the Desolate Fortress muttered as he looked back and forth between Jeong Yeon-shin and Yong Hee-myung. Next time, I'm definitely going on a solo mission.
“You are...?”
The middle-aged man in the yellow robe with the Blue Dragon—the Deputy Commandant of the Embroidered Uniform Guard—trailed off the moment he saw Yong Hee-myung. His straight, sword-like eyebrows furrowed slightly.
“It's been a while. You almost got transferred to the Eastern Depot back then. Though I'm sure you would have done well there too,” Yong Hee-myung said slyly.
Instantly, the crease between the Deputy Commandant's brows deepened.
Was it due to the current Commander of the Divine Sword Corps' popularity? The Deputy Commandant's attitude, while businesslike, seemed quite familiar.
“So it was Lord Yong. However, even with your esteemed status, there are things that cannot be overlooked. That act just now was a clear threat to Beijing...”
“Ah, I have no intention of blaming you. It's only natural to throw something first when an unidentified aura approaches at high speed. Our Commander of the Demonlight Wing here is also happy to let it slide.”
Yong Hee-myung patted Jeong Yeon-shin on the shoulder.
“The Commander of the Demonlight Wing?”
The gazes of the Deputy Commandant and the other military officials shifted to Jeong Yeon-shin. In an instant, the name 'Lotus Nezha' whispered among the officials.
It was the moniker Jeong Yeon-shin had earned in Shanxi. Right next to that land lay Beizhili, and here, Beijing.
For a moment, the sound of the early summer wind grew heavier, accompanied by the faint chirping of cicadas.
“...I will send word to the palace.”
The Deputy Commandant's robes fluttered as he turned around completely.
“Follow me.”
He spoke in a flat, even tone, as if this were not a matter to be handled at his level.
Jeong Yeon-shin watched him. It was the epitome of discipline.
The way he turned, his unhesitating forward strides, and his attitude of strictly separating public and private matters—all of it reflected a rigid martial discipline.
He was the very exemplar of a military official. It was a series of marvels.
Jeong Yeon-shin slowly parted his lips.
“Beijing is indeed a world apart.”
It was vastly different from the forest of monkeys holding swords with 'Regardless of Right or Wrong' inscribed on their blades.
The martial artists of Beijing could be reasoned with. His first impression was highly favorable; it felt as though the city itself possessed a certain undeniable class.
Meanwhile, the Deputy Commandant paused mid-stride.
“May I ask with what intention you say that?”
“Pardon? I meant nothing by it. I was simply filled with admiration for the Deputy Commandant's spirit...”
“Spirit...”
The Deputy Commandant's strides widened. The military officials surrounding them also moved slightly ahead.
They walked past the long queue at the checkpoint and toward the massive city gates.
Glancing at Jeong Yeon-shin's profile, Yong Hee-myung chuckled.
“I can catch a glimpse of the old man of the previous generation in your facial features. Those with sharp eyes might notice it immediately.”
“...”
“I don't think it's something to look so serious about. Of course, you are a hundred times better, but the old man in his youth was also quite famous for his features, along with his temper...”
Suddenly, Yong Hee-myung stopped speaking.
He let out a dry laugh, adjusting the hem of the purple silk robe he had finally managed to strip from Jeong Yeon-shin's shoulders on their way to Beijing.
“We've thoroughly displeased them. Truly typical of Beijing nobles.”
The crowd forming the long queue at this moment were the residents of Beijing.
Without exception, every single one of them wore silk clothes, and some even exuded the scent of ink alongside the precious aroma of Longjing tea.
There were also those who slightly opened the windows of their reddish red sandalwood carriages to scan the group. It seemed as though there was not a single soul among them who was not of noble birth.
None among them appeared to be carrying weapons.
It was not because there were no martial artists. Some possessed quite fierce auras, yet they seemed to deliberately avoid wearing blades.
“...”
The atmosphere was hostile.
Many were glaring askance at Jeong Yeon-shin's group.
It was said that Beijing was the city with the largest population of Brightfolk in the entire world.
To the eyes of those who encountered the mystical in their daily lives, the black robes embroidered with the character for 'Desolate' (荒) and the purple silk robes looked like some sort of seeds of rebellion.
At the same time, the subjects of Beijing all seemed to keep the senses of peerless masters in mind.
No one gossiped aloud about Jeong Yeon-shin, Yong Hee-myung, or Yeon So-ha. They merely communicated through their aura: You are outsiders.
Their silence was heavy.
“The ones who went to defend the north this time... I heard the Demonfolk experts are incredibly ferocious, so I'm worried,” Yeon So-ha blurted out. Perhaps the current atmosphere had made him uneasy. He was referring to the Commander of the Azure Sky Unit, the Lord of the Wish-Fulfilling Spring, and the Commander of the Dragon-Treading Unit.
Since the identities of those on the mission were confidential, he had refrained from naming them. Yong Hee-myung patted Yeon So-ha on the back.
“Public sentiment always fluctuates. Since martial artists from the main fortress rarely carry out missions in Beijing, don't look upon them too harshly.”
“If it were that easy, our Commander wouldn't have stormed the meeting place of the Thirteen Heavens Lords.”
“Aha, so I'm 'Commander' here. In any case, they might change their attitude soon. The air is turbulent.”
Amidst the silence on all sides, Jeong Yeon-shin stopped with his companions and looked ahead.
The Outer City of Beijing.
The word 'impregnable' was the first to come to mind.
The double-layered, towering walls alone gave that impression.
They embraced the vast land in its entirety. Even though their ends were invisible to the left and right, they felt incredibly solid.
He had never seen anything like this in his life. The world's master craftsmen must have poured their souls into it. While Jeong Yeon-shin was absorbed in admiring the sight with a seemingly calm face, a voice echoed in his mind.
—The Emperor has left his seat. I can't feel him even from here.
It was Yong Hee-myung's telepathy.
Jeong Yeon-shin glanced sideways. He saw his superior mouthing words toward him.
—He often enjoys short excursions, so we won't have to wait too long. It's actually for the best. Let's trade some blows in the meantime.
—Are you saying you will give me a sparring lesson?
When Jeong Yeon-shin replied with slight surprise, the corners of Yong Hee-myung's mouth curled up.
—A lesson to a guy who is more than capable of founding his own sect...? I'm just saying we should polish your forms a bit.
So that the Emperor won't be able to resist dyeing your robes purple.
“I am the Deputy Commandant of the Embroidered Uniform Guard! I am accompanied by Lord Yong, the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps of the Desolate Fortress, Jeong Yeon-shin, the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, and one other!”
The shout echoed from the front of the group.
Creak!
With a massive grinding of hinges, the city gates opened.
There was no need to wait long. Normally, it was said that if one stepped onto the ground of Beijing's checkpoint at dawn, they would only see the roof tiles of the Inner Castle after the night sky had fallen.
Whether it was thanks to the authority of the Embroidered Uniform Guard's Deputy Commandant or the prestige of the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, it was hard to say.
To Jeong Yeon-shin, it didn't matter. For now, the public sentiment didn't matter either.
He only needed to obtain the Purple Rank here. Jeong Yeon-shin simply wished for that one matter to resolve itself naturally.
Just like the sunlight pouring in, dyeing the gap in the city gates white at this very moment.
* * *
An inner chamber sealed with pale marble.
Dust drifted like a cluster of stars, illuminated by the faint sunlight filtering through a hairline crack in the roof.
“Is it the third day?”
A massive silhouette spoke.
“If you are referring to the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, yes, that is correct.”
Myeong-yeo, a Brightfolk eunuch with ears sharp as sword tips, bowed his waist at an angle with his hands clasped.
It was the highest form of etiquette one could show to someone other than the Emperor in Beijing.
The person before him was well worthy of such respect.
An absolute power holder who held the Eastern Depot, the Western Depot, and the Imperial Procession Agency under her feet.
Although she possessed a body that could not leave direct descendants, she was not a eunuch, yet by imperial decree, she had not stepped down from the position of Head Eunuch for decades.
She was even a second cousin of the previous Head Eunuch.
Her lineage, ability, and official rank were all of the highest order. If one were to speak of the person who was below only one but above tens of thousands, there was no one else to mention but the Head Eunuch.
‘No.’
Myeong-yeo shook his head inwardly.
She should not be treated as a mere human. She had to be viewed as a natural disaster of Beijing. Because the Head Eunuch's mood seemed foul, that realization felt exceptionally vivid.
“A letter requesting entry to the palace came once, and then stopped? No further word since...? Even after committing an act bordering on treason without so much as a letter.”
It was the Head Eunuch's monologue.
Myeong-yeo trembled slightly.
The Head Eunuch's voice was somewhat hoarse, and because she possessed a naturally metallic, grating tone, it often sent shivers down the spines of many officials.
Tap, tap.
Thick fingers tapped against the silence.
On the desk where the Head Eunuch sat, the Four Treasures of the Study, including ink and brushes, were arranged as neatly as blades.
Even when Myeong-yeo examined them with his constantly active eye technique, he could see no flaw in their straight alignment. It was proof of the Head Eunuch's achievements, having reached the Stage of Great Completion in martial arts as well.
“He has quite the nerve. Anyone else would be sitting on pins and needles...”
Rustle.
She rose from her seat.
In that instant, Myeong-yeo felt as if a great mountain had suddenly reared up. The Head Eunuch's physique was just that colossal.
Her height reached a full seven jang, and her body was like that of a born master of external martial arts. Even her wide, red sleeves could not conceal her iron-like forearms.
Moreover, her ears were even sharper and longer than Myeong-yeo's.
Myeong-yeo knew that the Head Eunuch was as formidable as any high-ranking master of the Ju clan.
“Are you going out...?”
Immediately after he asked cautiously, Myeong-yeo found himself outside the massive palace before he knew it. It was a Body Protection Scripture so elusive it was like a flickering will-o'-the-wisp.
“I must see his face for myself.”
Wearing an official hat on her massive head, the Head Eunuch walked down the middle of Beijing's main avenue, the hem of her red official robes fluttering. She held Myeong-yeo by the scruff of his neck with one hand.
Because of her appearance, even her distinct facial features only looked like the face of the King of Hell.
Pedestrians passing by on the street lowered their eyes and scrambled out of the way.
Even high-ranking officials, who had been leisurely looking around from palanquins carried by servants, stepped down onto the ground to pay their respects.
After traveling a considerable distance in this manner, the two stopped in front of a certain pavilion.
“Is it really okay to do this here? Isn't that a love letter?”
“Who cares? It's not like people are going to throw stones at us. What matters right now is that jade-like face over there.”
“Wait a minute, the line here... Uh, ah?”
The women who had been lingering around the wide-open gate retreated in terror.
Though every single one of them appeared to be a young lady of a noble household, the moment the Head Eunuch stood among them, they hastily offered their greetings and fled as if running for their lives.
Myeong-yeo did not think their behavior was unsightly. If one wished to survive in Beijing, that was exactly how they had to act.
With a pounding heart, he stared past the pavilion's gate.
He saw a young man standing still, catching his breath.
Sunlight rippled along his pitch-black hair, and even to Myeong-yeo, who had seen countless Brightfolk, the young man's extraordinary features stood out.
The lines of his face, descending beneath his calm eyes, were so sharp they seemed to blur the very sense of reality.
‘Is that truly him...?’
Myeong-yeo suddenly felt the blood drain from his face. He must have turned pale as a sheet.
The Black Rank of the Desolate Fortress whom he had dealt with while serving by the Imperial Grandson's side. Because of that man, Myeong-yeo's status had fluctuated several times.
He had never wanted to meet him again. If not for the Head Eunuch, he would have kept his distance for the rest of his life.
“Hmm?”
When Myeong-yeo suddenly turned his gaze, he saw the Head Eunuch. Her once-flushed face had turned completely pale.