The Pearl in the Mud
Yo Chusang froze the instant the door swung open.
A disciple had emerged from the darkness.
"……!"
The elder’s narrow eyes flared wide as thumbnails.
Uncheon bowed his head in greeting, his face bright with quiet satisfaction.
"Master, I hope this is not too late an hour to trouble you. A full month has passed, and arriving with the morning light did not feel quite right, so I came straight here."
"No…… you did well to come."
Yo Chusang still stared up at him, astonishment written plain across his wrinkled features.
Only one thought filled his mind.
Surely…… he cannot have truly memorized every last one of those books and walked out?
He forced his wits back into order and asked,
"How did it go?"
"Just as you instructed, Master. I memorized the texts that filled the Setongjeon and came out."
"What did you just say? You memorized every single volume inside the Setongjeon?"
"I believe I have them all by heart, though I cannot swear the recall is perfect."
"……."
Yo Chusang regarded his disciple with an almost wondrous gaze.
This is not a lad who would claim mastery he does not possess……. Did the Namgung Family truly never realize what sort of monster they had under their roof?
No matter how he turned it over, the feat beggared belief. Yet the thought that he himself had recognized the boy’s worth when the great sword clan had not filled him with a private, swelling pride.
"I expected you would remain another full month, though I nursed a secret hope. You have come out far sooner than that."
"When I left I saw that the Setongjeon itself had been constructed through the Art of Strange Gates."
"Correct. You saw it clearly. And to claim you memorized everything within—remarkable."
"It seems I have more talent for memorization than I knew. I followed your counsel, learned what I could, and stepped outside only to discover today was exactly the thirtieth day. I understood then that the full moon’s light opens the exit."
Yo Chusang fixed him with a brilliant stare.
I have found a pearl in the mud.
The world was full of gifted men. He had heard of martial prodigies who mastered techniques with ease and of intellectual geniuses whose minds cut like blades, yet he had never stood face-to-face with either.
Just what is this boy?
Originally he had meant to leave Uncheon inside the Setongjeon for two full months, forcing him to absorb as much knowledge as possible. He had never imagined the lad could memorize everything in a single month; that was precisely why he had refused to name a time limit when he sent him in.
Heaven has granted me this blessing in my twilight years…….
Surely he had lived a life that deserved such fortune.
"Now I am truly curious. Is my disciple not a genius of the Namgung Family? Memorizing nearly a hundred volumes in a single month is beyond ordinary talent."
"Mm…… I cannot say whether I am a genius. In the family there was little need for memorization. Still, I do not recall ever struggling to commit something to memory."
"You do not regret becoming my disciple, do you?"
"Not in the least. Because I serve you as Master I am learning so much. I remain grateful every day."
"Is that so. Ah…… then……."
The corners of Yo Chusang’s wrinkled mouth lifted as he looked at Uncheon. The boy claimed only to have memorized the texts; the elder now burned to see how far he could apply that knowledge in practice.
"You say you have committed every page to memory, so thinking carefully through what you learned should present no great difficulty. Enter the place I will name and bring out a single object. Go at once."
"Understood."
Uncheon left the Elders’ Hall and made for the location Yo Chusang had indicated.
No detailed instructions had been given—only the place and the object he was to retrieve. Yet Uncheon had already read the old man’s intent.
The final gate of infiltration technique.
He erased every trace of his presence and drew near. Concealed auras lay scattered all around the grounds, yet none of them could sense his qi. Uncheon’s form moved as though it had simply vanished into empty air.
The moment he stepped inside he recognized the formation blanketing the entire area.
A formation. Hmm…… the Soul-Loss Array?
To blunder into it unprepared would mean losing consciousness with the first step. He called up every detail of the Soul-Loss Array he had memorized in the Setongjeon and studied the surrounding terrain for the media that powered the array.
Pillars stood at measured intervals across the open space.
Found them. Eight pillars means a formation built upon the Eight Trigrams.
Now he needed only to locate the Gate of Life and the Gate of Death among the trigrams. Whenever moonlight swept forward, the pillars’ shadows trembled.
Shadows cast by the full moon. So they combined the array with the Art of Strange Gates…….
Uncheon sought the pillars touched by moonlight and read the trigrams.
The Gate of Life is Kan.
Kan consists of a single broken yin line between two solid yang lines. He moved westward, stepped lightly across the yang lines of the footwork, and advanced. The space sealed by the formation and the Strange Gates Art opened; his body slipped deep into the array.
Good. The method of breaking it matches my expectation. I can pass through like this.
As he dismantled each trap in turn, a quiet thrill rose in his chest.
Beyond the formation a door appeared. Uncheon did not touch it at once.
No telling what might be buried here.
Sssaaa—
He scraped dirt from the floor and cast it toward the door. Every surface clouded with dust except for a strip roughly two inches wide.
Click.
He pressed the clean section with the tip of the Cheongeungeom. The door began to swing open.
I wonder what devices wait inside?
His eyes gleamed with anticipation. A corridor steeped in thick darkness revealed itself.
This…… the killing intent is far too dense.
The murderous aura pouring out made even him hesitate. He kept his internal energy ready to surge at the first hint of ambush.
I was lucky enough to read the path this far…… but in a true crisis the memories might not surface.
Not knowing when or how something might strike only deepened the pressure.
"Hoo…… Still, I have to go in, don’t I?"
Steadying his mind, Uncheon stepped forward. His eyes soon adjusted; a corridor stretched some fifty yards ahead.
This is properly done.
If traps appeared inside, there would be nowhere to dodge. The best course was to enter without triggering a single mechanism, seize the prize, and leave.
He sharpened his concentration and advanced one measured step at a time.
He halted halfway. The strength of the breeze had shifted by a hair’s breadth.
Where is the wind coming from?
He heightened his hearing, letting it ride the threads of air and spread in every direction. At last he caught the faint sound of moving wind from the lower left ahead.
An impressive place. This corridor blocks the free passage of air and uses the tiniest differences in weight to set its traps.
The mechanical principles he had stored in his mind suddenly fitted together; he knew exactly how to move.
I cannot stop the wind. Therefore I must travel with it.
The key was to lighten his body to the utmost. With a form so weightless it never opposed the current, he unfolded the Heavenly Wind Divine Art and followed the breeze.
Whirrrrr—
His figure darted and twisted freely through the narrow space, advancing ever deeper. When at last he reached the end, a wooden box rested upon a white stone slab before him.
"So this is what Master meant."
He did not lift the box at once. An artificial white slab—he was certain it hid a trap of its own.
Even at a glance the stone looks suspicious.
Judging by every snare he had already passed, they would never have left the prize free for the taking.
A weight-based mechanism, most likely. Let’s see how it works.
He examined the slab carefully and found a hair-thin gap beneath it.
There it is. When the box is lifted the change in weight tilts this side, triggering the device. So I simply keep it from moving.
He broke a fragment from the stone wall and wedged it under the slab so it could not shift.
That should hold it.
Gripping the box with both hands, he raised it with exquisite care.
Done. Success.
The white stone never so much as trembled.
Outside, Yo Chusang kept staring down the path.
Heh-heh. Will he truly bring it out?
He had called the place the Yaweol Sect’s greatest forbidden ground, yet that was not strictly true. It was the final proving ground for the sect’s assassins. He waited, half eager, half anxious, to see whether his disciple would emerge with the box.
Not even among the Yaweol Sect’s assassins and killers had anyone ever succeeded on the first attempt. If Uncheon had truly and completely memorized the hundred books of infiltration technique within the Setongjeon, he should be capable—yet still……
Then—
"……!"
Yo Chusang started. He had sensed a presence entering the Elders’ Hall. A familiar silhouette appeared and approached. Uncheon held out the box.
"Master, I have returned."
"……Well done."
Yo Chusang took the box and confirmed it was the correct one.
Not even half a shichen, and he walked out of the Killing Cave with this.
That alone proved he had mastered every infiltration text of the Setongjeon. Excitement surged, yet the elder forced it down.
"Nothing unexpected occurred inside?"
"The method of entry was troublesome, but applying what I memorized in the Setongjeon made it far less difficult."
"Good. This was only a simple test. Any assassin of the Yaweol Sect should manage it without trouble."
Uncheon knew the words were false, yet he nodded.
"I thought the same. With a little more training I believe I could enter and leave in the span of a single gak."
"……Is that so. You must be weary after all this. Return to the Blood Flower Pavilion and rest."
"Yes. Sleep well yourself, Master."
Yo Chusang watched Uncheon’s retreating back and muttered,
Hah…… It is good, yet I fear I have taken a disciple I can no longer control.
It felt as though he had slept deeply on a proper bed for the first time in ages.
When Uncheon opened his eyes he remained still for a while, simply lying there. Then one face rose unbidden in his thoughts.
"I wonder how Uncle Dok is faring."
What had become of Dokjeonhwa after he followed the man in the golden mask? The moment he recalled him, the golden-masked figure’s overwhelming presence returned with piercing clarity.
An extraordinary person.
Without the divine token Uncle Po-ui had given him, Uncheon would never have survived. Luck alone had saved him.
He may be connected to Myeongseon Palace.
The dense inner force in those eyes behind the golden mask had prevented Uncheon from reading his thoughts properly. Whoever he was, he was no ordinary martial artist of the Central Plains.
Uncheon sat up abruptly at the edge of the bed. He thought as well of the black-hatted man he had briefly forgotten.
The Blood Refining Divine Cult, was it? Does Master know of them?
So many events had crowded one upon another that even his presence here in the Yaweol Sect still felt half unreal.
But why did Yu Gonggae try to kill Uncle Dok instead of taking him back to the Beggars’ Sect?
The man was nothing like Yeo Jugae.
Could he be a spy who has wormed his way into the Beggars’ Sect?
Uncheon wanted to warn the Beggars’ Sect that Yu Gonggae had tried to murder Dokjeonhwa, yet he possessed no proof.
He rose from the bed.
I’ll confirm it when we meet again.
The next morning, training resumed.
An assassin’s martial art was, at its foundation, the one-strike kill. A single surprise attack had to leave the target at least grievously wounded. Concentration therefore had to be razor-sharp.
Uncheon stepped into a chamber of absolute darkness. Not the faintest light existed. Yo Chusang’s voice rolled through the entire space.
"An assassin’s strike is delivered in unstable ground. You move by sense, not by sight. There is never a second chance. To succeed with a single blow you must concentrate."
"Understood."
Uncheon focused his mind.
Whick!
A light shot toward him from the front. He twisted his waist, slipped past it, and simultaneously thrust his hand toward the source.
Pat!
The light shattered with a crisp sound. The exercise honed concentration and agility; he had to evade and destroy ten successive lights to pass.
Pat-pat-pat-pat—
Four lights erupted in rapid succession. Uncheon moved in a blur and snuffed them out. In that soundless dark his senses had grown sharp enough to hear the very whisper of light.
Since beginning the training for Sal-ui-gong, his concentration had risen to an almost unbelievable degree. Even the briefest flicker left a detailed, complete image in his mind.
Pat!
He avoided the final light and pressed the mechanism. One side of the black chamber opened.
Yo Chusang watched him emerge and felt fresh shock.
Unbelievable. I did not take a remarkable disciple—I took a monster.
Among the Twelve Assassins, not one had ever opened this door by his own power and walked out whole. Yet Uncheon, who had practiced Sal-ui-gong for less than a month, had just passed the trial.
"Master, I feel I came out too slowly. Next time I will try to finish faster."
"……."
"Being an assassin is by no means easy."
"No, it is not. Disciple…… you must work even harder."
Yo Chusang began to believe that the birth of the greatest assassin under heaven within the Yaweol Sect might no longer be a dream.
Yes. He may have been born to the Namgung Family, but he is my disciple. Indeed!
His eyes rested on Uncheon, bright with expectation.
A woman’s voice sounded beyond the door.
"Sect Leader, Elder Yo and Cheongryu have arrived."
"Very well. Show them in."
The door opened and Yo Chusang entered the office with Uncheon. Within the Yaweol Sect, Uncheon now bore the new name Cheongryu.
Gong Hwaseon greeted Yo Chusang first.
"Elder Yo, welcome. Cheongryu, you are welcome as well. Please both take seats."
"My thanks, Sect Leader."
She turned to Uncheon once he was seated.
"Is there progress in the training of Sal-ui-gong?"
"Master is teaching me well. He is putting himself to great trouble."
Yo Chusang waved a hand at once.
"Sect Leader, there is no trouble at all. The disciple is so gifted that teaching him is a pleasure."
"Ah. I see. I was already well aware that Cheongryu is exceptional."
Gong Hwaseon felt her confidence solidify. Entrusting him with the coming matter seemed the right choice.
A commission, is it…….
Uncheon read her thought and asked,
"Is there a reason the Sect Leader summoned both Master and myself?"
"Ah…… yes. A commission has arrived. I would like Cheongryu to take this one."
Yo Chusang pressed for clarification.
"A commission—surely not a killing assignment?"
"It is not. Cheongryu and I already agreed he would accept no contracts that require taking a life."
Uncheon asked her directly,
"What is the commission I am to undertake?"
"A request has come from the Fuhan Mountain Villa in Xinyang, Henan. They wish us to protect them."
"Mm…… If it is simple escort work, why commission an assassin sect such as the Yaweol Sect?"
"I looked into it. They have already hired martial artists for protection, yet they have had difficulty stopping assassins."
"So they concluded that assassins are best at stopping assassins."
Gong Hwaseon nodded.
"Exactly. You grasp it at once. Had Cheongryu not been with us, I would have refused the contract."
"I understand. If it is protective work, I will take the assignment."
"I leave it in your hands. You may depart tomorrow."
Gong Hwaseon explained the commission in careful detail. Uncheon committed every word to memory.
His first commission for the Yaweol Sect set his heart beating hard.