Chapter 419: The Hem of the Western Heaven (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 419: The Hem of the Western Heaven (4)
The Crown Prince commanded silence from the assembly of ministers.
Though his tone and demeanor hardly suited someone of his noble stature, many immediately ceased their clamoring.
But not all.
A group stood gathered on one side of the red carpet that bisected the Hall of Supreme Harmony.
These were the scholars of the Forbidden City's Hanlin Academy.
"We implore Your Highness to reconsider."
An old civil official spoke as if he hadn't even heard the Crown Prince. In truth, these men only held their tongues beneath the golden throne of the Emperor himself.
The red-painted metallic chair situated below it—the Crown Prince's golden seat—held little authority over the ministers.
After all, it was the seat of a man destined to die without ever inheriting the throne.
The other scholars chimed in.
"How can the Crown Prince, as a son, privately unseal a memorial addressed directly to his imperial father?"
"This is a violation of protocol!"
"Whatever its contents may be, your humble servants cannot listen. This must not be."
The Hanlin Academy was an institution where the Emperor sought counsel on rites, laws, and governance, and its scholars were universally recognized as the finest minds of the dynasty.
Regardless of age or rank, they frequently offered astonishingly bold remonstrances—a practice tolerated because it was believed that a truly righteous imperial court should permit such candor.
They could not be easily suppressed by force. No ordinary authority could silence them.
"Though it is presumptuous of me to speak..."
The old civil official who had spoken first bowed his head once more. He was a Grand Secretary of the Grand Secretariat, a position of power nearly equal to that of a prime minister.
"The realm is in turmoil due to famine, and this is a time when we must look after the hearts of the people. In this regard, your humble servants have long preached the importance of Taoist sects like Wudang and Mount Hua. Yet, as Your Highness knows, such advocacy is no easy task for mere scholars. There are times when the greater cause must take precedence over fundamental principles."
"And?"
"As the Crown Prince of this nation, it is only right that Your Highness focus on the present rather than the future. You must not covet the authority of His Imperial Majesty any further."
"The Grand Secretary oversteps. I have never demanded the abdication of the throne. Not once in my entire life."
"If you reseal the letter now, we shall act as though your private reading of the memorial never occurred."
"You have a talent for making mountains out of molehills. The same goes for how you view the Divine Sword Corps. If the Commander of the Demonlight Wing had not stormed out of my presence, what do you think would have become of the streets of Beijing?"
"The elevation of the Desolate Fortress's Commander of the Demonlight Wing to the Purple Rank must proceed naturally, in accordance with the will of the people... We implore you to reconsider."
"I feel as though I am talking to a wall. I wonder if Zen Master Bodhidharma felt this way during his wall-facing meditation."
The Crown Prince's lips curled in a sarcastic smirk at the Grand Secretary.
"In accordance with the will of the people? Stubborn fools. You don't even know where these memorials came from."
"They are memorials addressed directly to His Imperial Majesty. Your servants will not listen to another word."
Wuuu.
A gentle wave of energy emanated from beneath the ears of the scholars, including the old civil official.
They had sealed their own Yifeng acupoints to temporarily block out all sound.
This was a world where martial arts flourished. Not a single child of Beijing's powerful families grew up without learning at least a decent heart cultivation method.
Even if they were scholars by trade, it was no different. They were proficient in archery as well as internal qi gong.
"How troublesome. It is only a matter of time anyway."
The Crown Prince leaned back against his seat and shook his head.
He knew why they were being so stubborn. It was because of an incident from long ago—the incident where the Hegemon Hero Ma Yeon-jeok had crippled the former Head Eunuch and escaped without any real punishment.
For decades, a small faction of officials had been deeply wary of the tyrannical martial might of the Desolate Fortress's Purple Ranks.
And now, the major event of the Divine Sword Corps' leadership gathering had occurred. It was only natural that they would try to prevent the birth of a new Purple Rank beforehand.
"Your very behavior proves the weight of the Purple Rank," the Crown Prince muttered casually.
But his words did not reach the scholars. Just like the authority of the Crown Prince, which had long since withered and lost its power.
It was then.
Through the open ceiling of the Hall of Supreme Harmony, a leisurely whistle drifted down. Instantly, clouds of dust billowed throughout the palace.
The true qi infused within that simple whistle was incredibly dense.
"Ugh...!"
"What is... stop...!"
The Hanlin scholars and the Grand Secretary clutched their ears in agony. They looked as if they might fall to their knees at any moment.
A single bar of the whistle had completely unsealed all their acupoints.
"...!"
The faces of the silent ministers paled. No high-ranking official could fail to recognize the identity behind that whistle.
"Unit Commander Yong?"
"I heard he had left Beijing...!"
The current Commander of the Divine Sword Corps was an exceptionally flamboyant man. It was said that even when entering a battlefield, he enjoyed using a poetic whistle as a sound art.
"I have personally cleared the ears of these old folks."
Step.
The figure who now stood beside the Crown Prince spoke with a hint of amusement. Having just descended from the open ceiling, he was dressed in a purple silk robe like a scholar.
The tall man clasped his hands in greeting toward the Crown Prince.
"Forgive me for arriving unannounced."
"Drop the formalities. Are you not one of the few permitted to carry weapons in the Forbidden City? Did you find His Majesty?" the Crown Prince asked, gesturing toward the pile of memorials.
Yong Hee-myung, the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, lowered his hands and nodded toward the letters.
"That is why I am here. In any case, I never expected the Wudang Sect to support Flash Art's Purple Rank promotion. The handwriting is remarkably elegant; it seems Elder Ancient Sword is quite the calligrapher. Well... perhaps he took extra care with this one."
"...!"
A stir ran through the ministers inside the Hall of Supreme Harmony. Shock rippled through the crowd, reaching the Hanlin Academy and the Grand Secretary.
Those who had clung to the "will of the people" and "natural order" until the very end, including several powerful nobles, were forced to listen to the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps' next words.
"There is also a letter from the Poison Lord. Well, the Sichuan Tang Clan does owe Flash Art several debts. And the Sect Leaders of Emei and Qingcheng... Oh? Even the proud Lady Yul-ha of the Mount Hua Sect? And what is this letter from the Shaolin Abbot? The Peng Clan is quite unexpected as well."
"They all seem to share the same sentiment. Otherwise, memorials from such great sects would not have piled up like this. It seems the Commander of the Demonlight Wing traveled the Jianghu with the character of a true gentleman," the Crown Prince remarked.
Yong Hee-myung chuckled, stroking his chin.
"He drinks like a gentleman as well."
"Is that so? I have become curious about the drinking etiquette of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing. Perhaps we will share a drink one day."
"I cannot say. At any rate, His Imperial Majesty will arrive shortly, so you had best prepare."
As the two conversed, the Hall of Supreme Harmony grew increasingly noisy.
Bombarded with one shocking piece of news after another, capped by the Emperor's imminent return, the scholars and ministers in the bustling palace could not easily find their tongues.
They could only stare blankly at the letters and scrolls of memorials held by the Crown Prince, their faces filled with dismay.
* * *
It was a fine day.
Beneath the vast blue sky, the cries of cicadas and scops owls echoed with unusual clarity.
It was a summer noon. The signature golden roofs of the Forbidden City gleamed brighter than ever.
This was Wuhua Hall.
It was the place where the Emperor trained in martial arts.
Befitting the Forbidden City, the front courtyard was vast—large enough to be called a training ground or a public square.
Yet, the ground was heavily gouged in places, as if a war had swept through it. Even the world-renowned Ironfolk blacksmiths had been unable to smooth the damage over.
In contrast, the path leading to the center of the hall was flawless.
Perhaps because it symbolized the Emperor's path forward, it was paved with exceptionally white marble, lending it an even more elegant air.
Rustle.
Adjusting his clothes, Jeong Yeon-shin released the white swallow from his breast, letting it fly above his head. He added a brief word.
"Come back on time. Don't play for too long."
The White Swallow of the Demonlight Wing chirped softly and fluttered away.
It was then.
"How bold. Someone might shoot it down."
An incredibly clear voice vibrated through the air.
The voice came from behind him. Jeong Yeon-shin did not startle; he turned around slowly, having already sensed the presence approaching from afar.
"There is no need for such concern. It is a creature that only plays within the reach of my sense of qi..." he spoke slowly.
And took in the figure before him.
He looked to be around thirty. At least, in appearance.
His height was nearly identical to Jeong Yeon-shin's.
His features were strikingly androgynous. Rather than merely beautiful, he possessed a profoundly mystical aura.
Sunlight cascaded down his small, rounded forehead to the high bridge of his nose. He wore an imperial crown from which twelve strings of brilliant jade beads dangled, and the surrounding sunlight seemed to bend toward him.
Because of this, the sun and moon embroidered on the shoulders of his dragon robe stood out with vivid clarity.
He was the Emperor.
The peerless expert, Emperor Geonreung.
His deep green eyes, which looked as if a dense forest had been melted into them, reflected Jeong Yeon-shin with absolute clarity.
"Is it safe wherever your sense of qi reaches?" the Emperor asked quietly, without demanding any formal etiquette or protocol.
Indeed, his presence made one forget such trivialities entirely. At least, it did for Jeong Yeon-shin.
He felt a genuine chill of tension for the first time in a very long while. A cold sensation seeped deep into his spine. He could not fathom the depth of the man before him.
Though the man clearly held a human form, Jeong Yeon-shin felt that even the human-faced spider he had encountered before seemed more human than this.
Only then did he truly register the Emperor's appearance.
The Emperor was smoking a long, tightly rolled leaf, its tip lit.
The burning aroma was incredibly fragrant, suggesting it was not poppy. Behind him, a record keeper carrying a brush and a book followed silently.
Huuu—
"Did you not hear Our question?" Exhaling a cloud of pale smoke, the Emperor tilted his head slightly.
Jeong Yeon-shin slowly parted his lips.
"...I believed it to be safe, but now I am not so sure."
"You are more humble than I expected. And yet, I heard the blood of Yeon-jeok flows in your veins."
"In the Ji Shi chapter of the Analects, it is said that a gentleman must hold three things in awe. Among them, what a humble person like myself must revere is a person of profound martial attainment and virtue, and the Heavenly Mandate..."
Jeong Yeon-shin could not finish his sentence. Suddenly, the Emperor exhaled a thick cloud of smoke from the rolled leaf.
Perhaps because his internal energy breathing was transcendentally deep, the exhalation stretched out incredibly long.
"My return from Shaolin was not in vain. You present Us with a new koan."
"I do not understand what you mean."
"There was still a weakness in Our heart cultivation breathing. It ought to be as continuous and vast as the great ocean."
Crush.
In an instant, the leaf in the Emperor's hand crumbled into nothingness.
"Let us walk for a moment."
As he gestured toward the main gate of Wuhua Hall, the jade beads of his crown clinked, brushing against his unusually long ears.
The Emperor possessed ears so long that he could well be called the reincarnation of Liu Bei of Shu Han.
The three of them, including the record keeper, walked slowly toward the hall.
No significant words were exchanged during their walk. Not even when they stepped inside the hall and closed the doors.
Click.
Jeong Yeon-shin's brow furrowed slightly.
This place was just like the Hall of Supreme Harmony. The sense of qi that had been expanding in all directions was abruptly severed. It had become impossible to perceive the inside from the outside, or the outside from the inside.
They said the secret grand formation of the imperial family rivals the Unified Martial Transcendence of the Master of Taemo Mountain Fortress...
The words he had once heard from Yong Hee-myung flashed through his mind.
Step.
"When the Grand Master took a disciple outside of the Ju family, We intended to personally come and inspect you," the Emperor said as he strolled through the hall.
He was referring to the Lord of the Desolate Fortress. Jeong Yeon-shin glanced at his back.
"But the Grand Master told Us not to come. She offered no further explanation... yet only now do We understand what she feared. Had We seen you then, you would not be the Commander of the Demonlight Wing at this moment."
"...?"
"You would have been commanding a pillar of the Northern Expeditionary Force. As one of the Three Defense Generals."
"I have no desire for the military."
"We know your origin. Did you have a desire for the Jianghu, then?"
"My desire is for life."
Speaking calmly, Jeong Yeon-shin glanced down at his sleeve.
There was not a single lantern lit inside Wuhua Hall, making it difficult to distinguish his black robe from the surrounding air.
It was undoubtedly due to the palace's formation, which confounded both the five senses and the sense of qi.
"Your desire is for life? What a peculiar fellow. Around Us, there are only those who speak lightly of death to prove themselves."
A faint trace of amusement colored the Emperor's voice. Then, the scratching sound of a brush tickled Jeong Yeon-shin's ears.
The silent record keeper was diligently writing. Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly felt the reality of being deep within the imperial palace.
"...If one is faithful to life, death will prove it. The two are connected."
Jeong Yeon-shin thought of the traces he would leave behind on this earth if he ultimately failed to overcome his Heavenly Mandate and died.
His niece Jeong Hye, the Desolate Fortress, his friends from the Nine Sects, the Flash Art lineage...
"The two are connected? Yes, indeed. Yet, perhaps because you have just returned from Shaolin, it sounds particularly profound."
The Emperor seemed to enjoy Zen dialogues. This was evident from his manner of speaking, which made it hard to tell whether he was addressing Jeong Yeon-shin or merely muttering to himself.
"They say the corpses of Shaolin monks who endure the most grueling training never decay. It is called the realm of the Vajra Indestructible Body. In life, they boast an unbreakable, invincible external martial art, and in death, they preserve their own dignity. We have always held an interest in both. For Our status does not permit Us to live or die in an ordinary manner."
Suddenly, the Emperor's footsteps stopped. Yet, his voice continued.
"Yet you speak of a Vajra Indestructible Body of life. Fascinating. Truly fascinating. A strange realization is beginning to dawn upon Us."
"..."
"You said your desire is for life. You are already a martial artist of the Desolate Fortress, inseparable from the Jianghu. What kind of footprint do you intend to leave upon the martial world? What do you believe is the Vajra Indestructible Body that pierces through both life and death?"
He was asking how he would live as a Purple Rank of the Desolate Fortress.
Jeong Yeon-shin felt it instinctively. This was the final test. Yet, it was a question he could not dress up with clever words, nor could he employ any tricks like reverse-calculating a mnemonic after observing an opponent's martial arts.
He had to speak from the heart.
Naturally, his lips parted slightly.
"To never compromise."
It was a statement loaded with many meanings. The Heavenly Mandate, injustice, the heterodox sects, and any other form of oppression...
The Emperor laughed.
"Perhaps it is because of your youth. Your righteousness is quite endearing."
And suddenly, the doors of Wuhua Hall swung wide open on their own.
Light flooded into the dim interior of the palace.
The vast front courtyard of Wuhua Hall was revealed in the sunlight, and before long, Jeong Yeon-shin beheld a massive crowd gathered in orderly ranks before him.
When had they arrived?
To call them the civil and military officials was an understatement.
The hundreds of martial officers clad in yellow uniforms embroidered with blue dragons were likely the Embroidered Uniform Guard. Eunuchs wearing blue official robes and black caps were also visible.
It was impossible to distinguish whether they belonged to the Eastern Depot, the Western Depot, or the Imperial Procession Agency, but given their numbers easily exceeded three hundred, it might well be all of them.
That was not all. Generals of the Imperial Guard, high-ranking officials in full ceremonial attire, and all manner of blue and red official robes filled his vision.
Every single one of them was looking up at Wuhua Hall, as if to engrave Jeong Yeon-shin's face into their memories.
What is this?
Just as Jeong Yeon-shin's brow furrowed.
Flutter.
From where had it come? The Emperor, who had silently appeared beside Jeong Yeon-shin, suddenly produced a large robe out of thin air.
"Your insight on the Vajra Indestructible Body was quite intriguing."
Jeong Yeon-shin felt a smooth texture wrap around his shoulders. A single thought began to pound in his mind. At last. Finally.
The Emperor's mouth opened slowly.
"If that heart remains unbroken for ten thousand generations."
The hem of the robe draped over Jeong Yeon-shin's shoulders.
At this moment, it was a robe devoid of the character 'Hwang' (荒) representing the Desolate Fortress, or any other pattern.
Yet, at this very instant, the light of the sunset rippled smoothly across the fabric. That was more than enough.
"You are the sword of this nation," the Emperor declared.
"..."
A silence spread like a tidal wave.
The seventy-second year of Geonreung. The imperial palace on the fifteenth day of the eighth month.
On one side, the record keeper elegantly moved his brush, recording this event.