Rumors of Death
Gong Hwaseon's crimson skirts rippled ahead of him, brushing the earth as she walked.
Uncheon followed three or four paces behind.
Having escaped a difficult situation, his heart felt light.
She looks pleased. I expected her to be furious that the Cheon-eum-su vanished—what a relief.
Uncheon let out a quiet breath of relief.
After their discussion, he had agreed to assist the Yaweol Sect for the next two years.
Working with an assassin sect might not be so bad. I'll probably face assassins often enough in the days ahead; this way I can watch how they move beforehand.
While each of them entertained pleasant thoughts, the two of them reached Hyeolhwa Pavilion.
When they opened the door and stepped inside, a rather large pond and a carefully tended garden came into view.
"Young Master Namgung, please make yourself at home here."
"Thank you."
Hyeolhwa Pavilion, she explained, had once been the residence of Gong Hwaseon's late mother. Constant care had kept it immaculately clean and orderly.
"Does it suit you?"
"Yes. Sect Leader, you've prepared far too fine a lodging for me."
"It had stood empty for some time. I'm glad it meets with your approval."
Uncheon passed the pond and entered the pavilion proper. She stepped closer and asked,
"If anything feels inconvenient, please speak up at any time."
"I understand. Thank you for taking such care."
"Not at all. Young Master Namgung saved our lives. We are the ones who should be grateful."
"Then I look forward to working with you."
Uncheon offered a light clasped-fist salute, then turned to her with a question.
"Sect Leader, has anything of note occurred in the Central Plains in the meantime?"
"Nothing significant since then… though there is one false rumor circulating about you."
"A false rumor?"
"It came from the Beggars' Guild. Word has spread that Young Master Namgung was killed by a man in a black bamboo hat."
Gong Hwaseon briefly recounted the story that had reached the martial world.
"Ah… if the Beggars' Guild is the source, I can see why they would claim I died."
Uncheon's brow creased faintly. The rumor of his death would certainly have reached the Namgung Family as well.
Noticing his expression, Gong Hwaseon asked,
"Is something the matter?"
"If word has gone out that I am dead, my parents will be frantic with worry. I should send word that I am alive."
"Of course. They must be terribly anxious. It would be best to go in person and tell them, but will that interfere with the work you have promised our sect?"
"That is a promise I made to you, Sect Leader. So long as I inform them that I am well and settled here, it should be fine."
"…You mean to tell them you are staying with us?"
"If I do not speak the truth, Father will never believe me."
"…"
Gong Hwaseon studied him in silence. His father was none other than Namgung Hyeonwu, Head of the Law Enforcement Hall of the Namgung Family—the man known as Hanpungnaengsim, Cold Wind Cold Heart. Though the Yaweol Sect claimed it no longer accepted murder commissions, there was no telling how that man would react to the news that his son would spend two years among them.
Reading her thoughts, Uncheon added,
"It will be all right. So long as I am alive, Father will not make much of it."
"Then we need only deliver a letter from you to him."
"It is a bother, I know, but I would be grateful if you could send it swiftly."
"Not at all. That much is only natural."
A short while later Uncheon finished the letter addressed to Namgung Hyeonwu and handed it to Gong Hwaseon.
"May I read what you have written?"
"Please do. I said nothing of the Yaweol Sect that need worry you."
Gong Hwaseon took the letter and read it through.
I never expected him to write so plainly…
Aside from explaining how he had come to the Yaweol Sect, how the Cheon-eum-su had vanished because of him, and that he would therefore work for two years so they need not worry, there was nothing else.
Holding the letter, Gong Hwaseon found herself curious how his father would receive it.
Sssssss…
Through the narrow gap of the opening door, white smoke slipped inside.
The White Mist made no sound as it seeped toward the bed.
Hmph. They call him Cheongryu Geomhyang of the Namgung Family, so I expected someone formidable. Just a worthless boy.
The White Mist circling the bed began to take human shape. From within it a soft sword slowly rose.
Then—
A sudden flinch.
The White Mist froze. The soft sword hung trembling halfway drawn. It had never sensed the presence that had appeared behind it.
"What business brings you here in the dead of night?"
A man's voice.
The White Mist still could not move. The faintest shift would send the inner energy pressing against its entire body slicing straight through its throat.
"You seem human enough. Disperse the White Mist and reveal yourself. Otherwise your neck may part from your shoulders."
In an instant the inner energy turned into killing intent.
"Heh. Cut me if you can."
Paaat!
The White Mist exploded outward in every direction. In a blink it vanished, then gathered again toward the place from which the man's voice had come.
But—
He's not here? Was it not behind me?
The White Mist frantically scanned the surroundings.
"An interesting trick. Scatter, then reassemble. The Central Plains truly has no end of curious people—how entertaining."
"…!"
Whiiish!
Once more the man's voice came from behind, and at the same moment a blade of sword energy split the air.
"Hahk!"
A short, swallowed gasp sounded from inside the White Mist. The razor-sharp sword energy halted where it was.
"Forgive me, but I can see exactly where you are."
"…"
"If you still wish to test me, by all means try again as you did a moment ago. This time I will not stop."
Sssssss—
The White Mist slowly faded, revealing the woman within. The moment her form appeared, Uncheon himself materialized behind her, Cheongeungeom leveled at her back.
"You appear to be an assassin of the Yaweol Sect. Who are you?"
"Ha Jiryeon. They call me Miyusallyeo."
"Why has one of the Twelve Branch Assassins stolen into my room?"
"Is it not obvious? I was curious about your skill. Master Chae said you would be staying with us for a while, so I wanted to see for myself."
"Master Chae—you mean Hall Master Chae, the Hidden-Wall Assassin?"
"That is so."
When Uncheon lowered his sword, she turned and met his gaze. A woman in her early thirties. Short-cropped hair and a strong jawline gave her a hard, sharp impression.
"How did you know I had entered? No—how did you find me?"
"My hearing is simply sharp. Even if you conceal your presence and suppress your internal energy, you cannot erase the sound of the air itself moving."
Ha Jiryeon's brow twitched.
"You can hear the air move?"
"Impressive, isn't it? Even I think so. I was never like this before."
The bright smile Uncheon wore drew a short snort of laughter from her this time.
"Ridiculous. Still, if you weren't at least this absurd, no one from the Namgung Family would volunteer to become an assassin of the Yaweol Sect."
"I am of an age to strike out on my own, so I wanted to gather all sorts of experience. Learning what the Yaweol Sect has to teach should serve me well once I return to the martial world."
"So our sect is merely a playground for you to learn in? We stake our lives on this work."
Ha Jiryeon's mood darkened further at his words.
After the death of the New Moon Assassin, the Sect Leader and the Hidden-Wall Assassin had gone out and returned bringing a member of the Namgung Family with them—the one recently hailed as a rising star of the martial world, Cheongryu Geomhyang. That they had brought him at all was hard enough to accept; now, out of nowhere, he claimed he would take commission work for the Yaweol Sect for two years. And though he said he would help, he refused any contract that required killing.
"It seems I do not sit well with you."
"Of course not. I will speak to the Sect Leader. Leave for the Namgung Family at once."
"Is that allowed? I offered two years of service because I felt responsible for the disappearance of the Cheon-eum-su. If your dislike alone is enough reason for me to walk away, then by all means—I have no particular objection…"
"What? The Cheon-eum-su is gone?"
Ha Jiryeon started in genuine shock. It was the first she had heard of it.
"You have not been told about the Cheon-eum-su yet."
"You! What in heaven's name did you do to the Cheon-eum-su?"
"Ask the Sect Leader. In any case I am simply keeping faith and following her will. From now on, even if you dislike me, do not come barging in half-prepared. Being woken from a sound sleep is tiresome."
"Arrogant brat. I especially hate men who act superior."
Ha Jiryeon glared at Uncheon once more, then strode out.
"…That elder sister has quite the rough temper."
Uncheon gave a small shake of his head, lay back down on the bed, and closed his eyes as he muttered,
"If you are not here to guard me, kindly withdraw. Your presence is distracting and I doubt I will sleep. Who knows—I might draw my sword in my sleep…"
…
Whiiish!
A moment later the sound of wind rose from the roof of Hyeolhwa Pavilion and vanished into the night.
"It has been some time since we last came this way, has it not?"
Namgung Cheonwu and Namgung Hyeonwu climbed Mount Longzhong in Xiangyang, Hubei, and entered the grounds of the Zhuge Family together with their escort.
"Indeed. The last occasion was the inauguration of the Zhuge Family Head. That must have been a full twenty years ago."
"Time truly flies. We have grown old as well."
"Elder Brother, we still have a long way to go."
As they approached the main gate of the Zhuge Family, a middle-aged man in white martial robes stood waiting. It was Zhuge Yun, Vice Head of the Zhuge Family. A scholar's headband circled his brow; in one hand he held a phoenix-feather fan of pure white. He clasped his fists in salute.
"I pay my respects to Sword Emperor Namgung Cheonwu, Elder Brother."
"Yun, it has been far too long. The years have passed, yet you look no different."
"Hahaha. Elder Brother Sword Emperor remains as youthful as ever."
Smiling brightly, he exchanged greetings with Namgung Cheonwu, then offered a lighter salute to Namgung Hyeonwu.
"Hyeonwu, it has been a long while for you as well. Have you been well?"
"It is good to see you."
"Still as stiff as ever, I see."
True to his alias Hanpungnaengsim, Namgung Hyeonwu was the most difficult man in the Namgung Family to approach. Zhuge Yun turned back to Namgung Cheonwu.
"I have come in the Family Head's place. I worry you may find it discourteous."
"Hahaha, the Vice Head himself is more than sufficient."
"You are kind to say so."
Zhuge Yun bowed once more.
"Allow me to escort you first to Geonyeong Hall. Will that be acceptable?"
"Please do."
Zhuge Yun walked abreast with the two men as they entered the estate. Namgung Cheonwu asked,
"Have the other family heads arrived?"
"Three sects have already arrived and are resting in their lodgings. Only the Moyong Family remains."
"I see. How far off are the Moyong?"
"Judging by the distance, they should arrive around the hour of Shen today."
Zhuge Yun led them through the grounds to Geonyeong Hall, one of the family's separate residences. Attendants already stood ready inside, clearly having received prior notice.
"Sword Emperor, please rest at your ease here. The Family Head will call upon you later."
"Thank you for the guidance. Where are the other families lodged?"
"The Tang Clan is in Seoyeong Hall, the Hebei Peng Family in Hwa-in Hall, and the Shandong Ak Family in Hyangho Hall."
"Understood. You have been most helpful."
"Then I shall take my leave."
Zhuge Yun bowed respectfully and withdrew.
The moment he left, the man in charge of Geonyeong Hall stepped forward.
"Sword Emperor, please come inside. I shall prepare tea at once."
"What is your name?"
"You may call me Chungo."
"I leave myself in your care."
Barely a quarter of an hour after the two men entered the reception chamber, the voice of Jeong Hutae, commander of the Blue Heaven Guard and leader of the Flying Tiger Unit, sounded from outside.
"My lord, the Head of the Shandong Ak Family has come to call."
Namgung Cheonwu's brow furrowed slightly.
"Hyeonwu, Elder Brother Ak has arrived."
There was no pleasure in his tone.
"Elder Brother, your feelings are showing."
"Haa. A man I would rather not meet."
"Haha, yet he is not a bad person. Simply smile and endure."
"I know that well enough, yet every time we meet he seems determined to pick a fight. It grows tiresome. You feel the same, do you not?"
"Let it pass through one ear and out the other. Elder Brother Jinkyung is fiercely competitive, nothing more; he bears no true malice."
"Tsk… That is precisely what I dislike."
Just as Namgung Hyeonwu rose and approached the door—
Rattle.
The door burst open and a middle-aged man strode straight in. His hair was combed neatly back, and his broad forehead gleamed like the sun. From behind both shoulders rose the twin shafts of his personal divine spears, crossed in an X.
"If it isn't Hanpungnaengsim! Good to see you!"
Swoosh.
The moment the man flung his arms wide to embrace him, Namgung Hyeonwu glided a single step backward. Then, as if nothing had happened, he offered a formal clasped-fist salute.
"Family Head Ak, it has been a long time."
"Hah! How awkward you make a man feel. You never change. When it is only us, there is no need for such formality."
It was Ak Jinkyung, Head of the Shandong Family.
"Sword Emperor, it has been too long."
"So it has."
"Ho, that tone suggests you were not particularly eager to see me."
"Nonsense. Was it not I who called for this gathering?"
"True enough."
Ak Jinkyung dropped straight into a seat and rapped the table.
"What are you all standing about for? Sit. The first day is no occasion for a full drinking bout—let us simply share a light cup of tea."
"You already act as though you own the place, Elder Brother."
"Hahaha! Your house is my house, and my house is my house."
He answered without the least hesitation, then cast a sidelong glance at Namgung Hyeonwu, who had quietly taken his seat once more.
"Come to think of it, there is a fellow whose name has been flying about as Cheongryu Geomhyang. When I looked into it, I found he is your son, Hyeonwu."
"That is correct."
"Mm… Rumor has it he was killed by some unknown figure. Is that true?"
"Nothing has been confirmed yet."
Namgung Hyeonwu answered with perfect calm. For most men the question would have been far too blunt for a first meeting. Yet even when asked about his son's death, his expression never shifted.
"No one of the Namgung Family dies so easily. I believe the same. If no corpse has been found, then he is alive somewhere. Am I wrong?"
"You are not."
"Still… has there been no word? He may have been injured badly enough that he cannot send a message."
"He has always been an unpredictable boy. He may simply think the matter is nothing worth reporting."
"Is that so? Well, a father knows his son best."
Namgung Hyeonwu lifted the teapot and poured tea for him.
His competitive streak truly is excessive.
Namgung Cheonwu already understood why the man had brought up Uncheon first. Ak Jinkyung had listened to every scrap of news about Cheongryu Geomhyang with open envy. A new star of the martial world had appeared—and the star belonged to a young warrior of the Namgung Family. Whenever people remarked that the Namgung were in a class of their own, Ak Jinkyung had taken out his frustration on the younger generation of the Shandong Ak Family.
Accepting the teacup, Ak Jinkyung spoke as though the matter were of no great importance.
"Do not worry overmuch. If he lives, word will come."
The moment the words left his mouth, Jeong Hutae's voice sounded again from outside.
"Hall Master, a guest has arrived asking for you."
"…For me?"
Any guest coming to Geonyeong Hall ought to have sought out Namgung Cheonwu, Family Head of the Namgung. And this was the Zhuge Family, no less. When Namgung Cheonwu gave a small nod, Namgung Hyeonwu stepped outside.
There he found a man standing beside Jeong Hutae—a stranger he had never met.
"Who are you?"
"I come from the Pungsowon of the Hao Sect. Are you Namgung Hyeonwu, known as Hanpungnaengsim?"
The Pungsowon was the Hao Sect organization that delivered messages faster than any other in the Central Plains martial world. A single use cost a small fortune that climbed steeply with distance.
"I am. Who has sent word to me?"
"A letter from Cheongryu Geomhyang."
"Uncheon?"
Namgung Hyeonwu accepted the letter. His hand trembled ever so slightly.
A letter from his son Uncheon.
When he drew the letter from its envelope, relief and a quiet smile together lit his face.
Thank the heavens. He is alive.