Chapter 68. What Does the Three-Way Martial Contest Have to Do with No. 50?
Won Seung didn't call Yong Jo-un a great hero for nothing.
After meeting him, Won Seung realized he'd been brainwashed by Jeokhyeolsan. That hadn't been Yong Jo-un's intention, but his words and actions had delivered a fresh shock to Won Seung nonetheless.
Yong Jo-un was a man of a completely different caliber from anyone Won Seung had known before.
Won Seung figured that if he were in Yong Jo-un's shoes, he'd plot all sorts of ways for revenge. He could ambush the Hwa family whenever they went out and pick them off one by one, or kidnap Hwa Yeo-wol and hold her hostage. The Hwas were unusually close-knit, so the death of even one would drive them into a rage, blinding them with fury and exposing vulnerabilities.
That was the assassin strategy taught at the assassin training camp, and Won Seung was confident he could execute it more ingeniously than anyone.
Yet Yong Jo-un had chosen the righteous path. He even declared that while he'd seek revenge on the Hwa brothers, he wouldn't hold their descendants accountable.
When he'd chased down Hyeol Hwa, he could have interrogated her to find out where she was headed, but instead, he'd backed off and spent a full day and night perched on a tree branch like an owl.
And now, he'd accepted a three-way martial contest that could only disadvantage him.
By Won Seung's standards, it was utterly incomprehensible behavior from a hopeless fool. And yet, the man clearly had his own code of life and unshakeable conviction in his path.
'The one true way of the world... What the hell is that, to make him turn down wealth and glory?'
Won Seung reflected on his own actions, comparing them to Yong Jo-un's.
Both had arrived in Sangyang around the same time.
Won Seung had impersonated someone from Seongwangbu, deceived the city's experts, and even swindled a fortune. If the truth came out, people would line up to condemn him and call for his head.
He told himself it was unavoidable—he'd been a penniless, powerless assassin—but it rang hollow. He knew he couldn't confess it to Hwa Yeo-wol or So Sansan. If he couldn't even tell his friends... it meant he wasn't living honorably.
'Hoo...'
A sigh escaped him unbidden.
Meeting Yong Jo-un had subtly shaken the assumptions Won Seung had long taken for granted.
At sixteen, he was at an age full of questions. And for the first time, he was asking himself:
'What kind of person am I? What will I do with my life?'
Won Seung had inherited his father's brilliance as the top graduate of the great exam; he never forgot anything he saw or heard.
As a child, playing under the window of his father's study, he'd eavesdropped on the conversations inside. His father must have known he was listening but never stopped him.
Absorbing those secretive talks of power, Won Seung had imagined himself one day in his father's seat. As the eldest son of the Won family, it was only natural. Even as a boy, he'd thought and acted like a man of power.
Those games of power were more than child's play; they'd rooted a deep understanding of authority in his heart.
Jeokhyeolsan had shattered that childish power fantasy. From the moment he saw a kid's skull cracked open on the first day, survival had dominated his thoughts.
He'd plummeted from would-be lord to vermin that could be crushed at any moment. A grown man might have rebelled and died or despaired into suicide.
But Won Seung was young, with a child's flexibility. Had he stayed that way, he'd have become the emotionless killer Jeokhyeolsan intended.
Dok Sabu—Dokgoe—had pulled him back. It started as a way to pass on his legacy and the Cheondaemun lineage, but Dokgoe gave him more. In that barren mountain, master and disciple shared genuine human warmth.
Dokgoe had even sacrificed his life to clear Won Seung's path. Incurable illness or not, throwing away one's life for another wasn't easy.
His master's death had shocked Won Seung deeply, introducing him to the alien concept of sacrifice—a decision he couldn't comprehend.
Ruthless power-holders and cold assassins shared one trait: they saw people as objects. Be it for a greater cause or money, obstacles were discarded like trash, excuses be damned.
If Dok Sabu had stopped him from becoming that ruthless man, Yong Jo-un had shown him another way to live.
Won Seung's gaze drifted to the neighboring yard, where Yong Jo-un was cultivating.
His heart felt heavy. Win or lose the contest, Yong Jo-un's odds of survival were slim.
Cheongsu Gate and Gwancheonbang had experts beyond Hwa Cheon-gang and Cheon Il-hae. They wouldn't honor the results.
Won Seung had started the three-way contest, but it had slipped from his control.
He admitted even he couldn't rein it in now.
The desires swirling around control of the Sang River grew more tangled the deeper he looked. Seongwangbu was involved, along with Sangyang's four great families and even the taesu. If those ambitions erupted through the contest, who knew where the chaos would lead.
Regardless of the outcome, Sangyang's turmoil would drag on, with countless lives floating down the river.
Jo Bang-un had just been the first casualty.
Ever since hearing of Jo Bang-un's death, Won Seung had felt the weight of opening hell's gates with his own hands.
'Seong Wang was eyeing it anyway. The bloodwind in Sangyang was inevitable.'
He tried to console himself, but it didn't help much.
'Father wouldn't have done this. He calculated every move to the end.'
That was why countless officials knelt before him in praise.
He'd played it cool in front of Jong Bi, Ogu, and others, but alone in the lonely summer night, facing himself, the truth emerged.
'I'm still a green, unripe apple.'
Hadn't Bi Jangno's appearance thrown everything into chaos tonight?
Starting something this big in Sangyang, he should have anticipated Jeokhyeolsan's branch or headquarters taking notice.
Gazing at the humid summer garden, Won Seung reflected from every angle.
Then, a strange feeling crept in.
It was too quiet.
The insects had fallen silent... a chill wind swept through.
Drops began to patter, then flash—lightning cracked the sky bright before rumble, boom! thunder roared.
Rain poured down.
Shwaaaah.
A midnight downpour... That thick red sunset must have been a sign.
Lightning flashed sporadically, thunder and bolts crashing down.
Won Seung suddenly thought the heavens might be mourning a death in advance.
In two days, one or two of Hwa Cheon-gang, Cheon Il-hae, or Yong Jo-un would surely die.
Or even tonight... It wouldn't be strange if someone dropped dead right now.
* * *
It was a luxurious annex.
Three bedrooms, plus a separate bath, living room, even a guest chamber and a small audience hall.
So this was how Jeokhyeolsan elders lived. The Yunhwa Pavilion rooms they'd used seemed like thatched huts by comparison.
Jong Bi waited on the stone steps below the audience hall for Bi Jangno to emerge.
The elder had ridden hard from afar, bathed from exhaustion, and was catching a quick nap, they'd said.
When she offered to return tomorrow, one of his subordinates had glared and ordered her to wait.
Flash, crackle, boom!
Lightning and thunder crashed as rain bucketed down.
Jong Bi flinched but kept her composure, staring at the downpour.
She was steeling herself.
'Swolhyeol San's antidote is done... If things go south, I bolt.'
Gone was the scholar's garb; she wore simple clothes. A heart protector guarded her chest, and a one-chi sword hid on her back.
In the loose short sleeves' upper arms, inner biceps concealed flying daggers; two razor-sharp poisoned daggers hung at her sides. Two more per thigh and calf—eight flying daggers total.
She looked like a hot summer slob with empty hands, but she could loose ten flying daggers, stab with two more, and deliver a sword thrust if needed.
Armored to the teeth, yet anxiety gnawed.
In hindsight, why hadn't she fled sooner? She felt pathetic.
With Swolhyeol San cured, she could have escaped, changed identities, and lived free...
She didn't know rubbing shoulders with Won Seung had planted such thoughts. Before, leaving Jeokhyeolsan had been unthinkable.
Amnesiac from the Soul Oblivion Pill, raised in Jeokhyeolsan since childhood... It was her enemy, but home too.
Thunder roused the elder from his nap; light flickered in his bedroom window.
Moments later.
Bi Jangno emerged. Slightly short but solidly built, his eyes were especially fierce.
It was Jong Bi's second time seeing him.
Jeokhyeolsan had four elders. Each oversaw two halls, with countless branches beneath.
Bi Jangno commanded the main hall plus the Henan and Hebei mid-halls—a true power player.
Jong Bi was the lowest of the low in those halls. His summons had shocked her; she hadn't even looked at his face properly. She still couldn't meet his eyes.
Honestly, she wondered why he'd assigned her as No. 50's inspector.
"Greetings, Elder."
She bowed, eyes down.
"Come up."
Seated at the head of the audience hall, Bi Jangno beckoned her inside and lifted a teacup his subordinate had brought.
In the rain-soaked space, faint tea aroma wafted, tickling her nose.
Slurp!
As the elder sipped and set down his cup, Jong Bi gathered her resolve.
'Get it together!'
What had she done wrong?
No. 50 hadn't either. The mission was six months; two remained!
Bi Jangno spoke arrogantly.
"I've read No. 50's inspection report. If some other fool sent that drivel, I'd have dropped dead on the spot. Consider yourself lucky I'm letting it slide because you're green."
"Ah, yes. My writing's poor... My apologies."
"Enough! Tell me everything you've seen and heard trailing No. 50."
"Yes."
Jong Bi recited Won Seung's deeds in order.
"First stop after the mountains: Choyang County. The magistrate was the target, but after scouting, he headed straight to Jungyang County..."
"In Sangyang, holed up at an outskirts inn... Swapped all his war bonds at the exchange... Checked into Yunhwa Pavilion as a noble young master..."
"Infiltrated Cheongsu Gate, disguised as Seongwangbu's Pung Un-seung... Even called me his servant, so..."
Here, Jong Bi's face soured. Inspector as servant? Fresh anger surged; she clenched her fist.
"...We ended up acting together. Then back to Yunhwa Pavilion... Rented a house as a safehouse..."
She reported almost everything faithfully, skipping only Baekhwa Pavilion.
Won Seung had told her to.
"...He's out gathering intel all day, but lately, with the three-way contest, he's been frantic. Out mornings, back past midnight."
By that account, typical assassin days.
"Three-way martial contest?"
Bi Jangno's first question came when those words slipped from her lips.
Sharp light flashed in his eyes—like a viper spotting prey.
"What does the three-way martial contest have to do with No. 50?"