Yeonggang Mountain Stronghold
Cheonhwa set out for Xi’an with Yeobhwa and Myeonghwa.
A strange silence hung over the road the entire way. Myeonghwa, who normally lifted the mood with his endless banter, was uncharacteristically tight-lipped.
“I’ve never seen Senior Brother Myeonghwa keep his mouth shut like that,” Yeobhwa said.
“Neither have I,” Cheonhwa agreed, nodding as he watched Myeonghwa’s subdued expression with quiet concern.
His father, the merchant lord, has gone missing. No wonder he’s reacting this way.
The head of the Cheongun Merchant Group was Myeonghwa’s father. Hearing that the man’s whereabouts had become unknown was more than enough to shake anyone. All the three of them could do was pour everything into their light-body arts and hurry their steps toward Xi’an.
They reached the city half a day after leaving the main mountain.
It used to take a full day. Having proper light-body arts really does make a difference.
The technique was called the Cloud-Chasing Free-Roaming Scripture—a long-distance movement art of the Zhongnan Sect whose name meant roaming the martial world in pursuit of the clouds. It was not especially fast, but it was built for covering great distances with almost no waste of energy, so they arrived in Xi’an without feeling drained.
The moment they reached the city they headed straight for the Cheongun Merchant Group. The atmosphere inside the compound was heavy, no doubt because of the merchant lord’s disappearance.
“What business brings you here?” a clerk asked.
“We came at the summons of the acting merchant lord.”
“Ah, the Taoist masters of Zhongnan. The acting lord is waiting for you inside.”
Whether word had been sent ahead or not, the clerk led them in without delay. There they met Jang Un, who had been handling the group’s affairs in his father’s place. Unlike the last time they had seen him at the Shaanxi Sword Gathering only a few days earlier, exhaustion was written all over his face. The shock of his father’s disappearance had clearly taken its toll.
“Welcome. Given how urgent the situation is, I hope you’ll forgive me for receiving you in such a disheveled state.”
“Brother, what in the world happened? Father—missing?!”
“Calm yourself, younger brother. There is an order to these things.”
Jang Un soothed his agitated sibling and began to explain everything one piece at a time.
“Our father, Jang Son-pyeong, merchant lord of the Cheongun Merchant Group, left on a journey to finalize a major contract in Sichuan.”
By the time the Shaanxi Sword Gathering began, Jang Son-pyeong had already departed Shaanxi; that was why Jang Un had attended in his father’s place.
“That part bothered me,” Cheonhwa said. “What kind of business would make the merchant lord himself take to the road?”
“To secure Shu brocade—silk that can only be obtained in Sichuan.”
Cheonhwa did not know the true value of Shu brocade, so he glanced at Myeonghwa, silently asking whether it was worth the merchant lord’s personal attention. Myeonghwa answered with a nod.
“If it’s a deal for Shu brocade, it isn’t strange that Father went himself. It’s a specialty unique to Sichuan, one of the four great silks of the Central Plains. People say the price is whatever the seller asks.”
“I see. Forgive me for interrupting. Please continue.”
At Cheonhwa’s words, Jang Un resumed.
“We confirmed Father’s disappearance not long after the Sword Gathering ended. We had been exchanging regular messages by carrier pigeon; then the messages simply stopped.”
He sketched the rough route Jang Son-pyeong had taken.
“Everything was fine until he finished the transaction in Sichuan and started back toward Shaanxi. The moment he entered Shaanxi territory, all contact vanished.”
Jang Un drew out a letter and held it up.
“Father left instructions that if anything ever happened to him, we were to rely on the Zhongnan Sect. I beg you—please help us find him.”
“Don’t worry. That’s exactly why we came. And besides…” Cheonhwa cast a sidelong glance at Myeonghwa. “When a senior brother’s father goes missing, we can hardly sit on our hands.”
“Thank you!”
Jang Un expressed his gratitude and began laying out a plan.
“First we need to concentrate our search on the corridor between Sichuan and Shaanxi where contact was lost. Our merchant group will check the routes leading from Sichuan into Shaanxi. I would ask the masters of Zhongnan to examine the roads leading from Shaanxi toward Sichuan.”
“Understood.”
Even limiting the search to the borderlands between Sichuan and Shaanxi still left an enormous stretch of ground to cover.
This is going to be a long investigation.
Yet they could not afford to take their time. The longer they delayed, the slimmer the chance of finding the merchant lord alive. From this moment on, every hour counted.
Cheonhwa, Yeobhwa, and Myeonghwa left Xi’an and followed the main road that ran toward Sichuan. Jang Son-pyeong had preferred the highways for safety, yet in this mountainous country even the main roads had their limits.
“Searching at random won’t get us far,” Cheonhwa said. “Is there anywhere along the route where we might gather useful information?”
“If that’s what we need, this is the place.” Myeonghwa pointed to a spot on the map of Shaanxi Province. “Hanzhong. We’ll find the kind of information you’re looking for there.”
Xi’an was the heart of Shaanxi, yet every region had its own busy crossroads. Hanzhong was one of them.
With their destination set, the three set out at once. Even using their light-body arts aggressively, covering several hundred li still took several days.
“We finally made it,” Yeobhwa said once they arrived. “Now we need information. Shall we split up and gather what we can?”
“No. Wandering around at random will only waste time.” Myeonghwa shook his head.
“Then what do you suggest?”
“If you want information, you go to the professionals first.” Myeonghwa gave them a meaningful smile and asked them to trust him.
After a moment’s thought, Cheonhwa decided to follow Myeonghwa’s lead.
Of the three of us, Senior Brother Myeonghwa has the most reason to be frantic. If he’s this confident he has a method, there must be something to it.
With Cheonhwa’s consent, Myeonghwa led them straight to a nearby inn.
“Waiter—everything from here to here on the menu. And pack up some white liquor and yellow wine as well.”
“Y-yes, right away!”
The waiter’s eyes widened at the unexpected big spender; then a delighted smile spread across his face. Myeonghwa handed over a purse heavy with coins, and the man hurried off to the kitchen.
They had plenty of silver supplied by the Cheongun Merchant Group, but Cheonhwa still tilted his head, unable to guess why Myeonghwa was buying so much food and wine.
Laden with packages of dishes and liquor, Myeonghwa led them to a secluded spot where few people ever went. There, a group of beggars who were unwelcome elsewhere had gathered. The moment the outsiders approached, every eye turned toward them. The scent of food seeping from the bundles made the beggars smack their lips.
Once enough attention had settled on them, Myeonghwa smiled and spoke.
“A junior of the Zhongnan Sect greets the brothers of the Beggar Sect. It is a true pleasure to meet the famed information network of the martial world in person.”
He sat down and began unpacking the bundles one by one. A dazzling array of dishes and wine bottles appeared. The rich aroma made the beggars swallow hard.
“I could hardly come empty-handed to pay my respects to seniors of the martial world, so I brought a few things. You must be hungry—eat first, and then we can talk.”
The beggars fell upon the food at once. Myeonghwa stayed beside them, carefully filling cups with wine.
“Come now, food alone will stick in your throats. White liquor, yellow wine—drink whatever you like and wet your throats.”
“My thanks, young Taoist. Begging went poorly today and our bellies were empty. Heaven must have left us hungry just so we could feast like this!”
“Hahaha! Hearing you say so is reward enough!”
A sour smell clung to the beggars from days without washing, yet Myeonghwa paid it no mind. He threw an arm around their shoulders and chatted as if they were old friends. Truly, he was the most sociable of all the third-generation disciples of Zhongnan—a man who made friends without the slightest regard for rank or station.
So these are members of the Beggar Sect.
Cheonhwa glanced at the waistbands of the men who were now laughing and eating with gusto. Sure enough, several of them wore distinctive knots—marks that identified them as brothers of the Beggar Sect.
“So that was why you packed all this food and wine—to win over the Beggar Sect. I’ve learned a valuable lesson,” Yeobhwa said in admiration. Cheonhwa nodded in agreement. Knowing how to contact the Beggar Sect was one thing; earning their goodwill was another.
If anyone has a lead, it will be the Beggar Sect.
The Beggar Sect—exactly as the name suggested—was the great order formed by beggars. Beggars existed everywhere under heaven, and through them the sect commanded an unmatched web of information. Anything happening in and around Hanzhong would be known to them.
When the meal ended, a middle-aged beggar who seemed to lead the group stepped forward. Three knots hung at his waist—the mark of a branch chief who oversaw an entire region.
“I am Gu Pung, branch chief of Hanzhong. Thanks to you we have eaten our fill for the first time in ages.”
“I’m glad it pleased you.”
“You sought us out because there is something you wish to know, yes?”
“Forgive the presumption, but that is so.”
Cheonhwa explained their situation. The Hanzhong branch chief stroked his chin beard and answered.
“No solid word has reached me about the whereabouts of the Cheongun merchant lord. But there is one thing that catches my attention.”
“What is that?”
“A new mountain stronghold has sprung up near Hanzhong, and its tyranny is said to be extreme.”
“A mountain stronghold—so bandits have appeared.”
A mountain stronghold, as the name implied, was a band of outlaws who lived in the mountains and made their living by banditry. Not all bandits were the same, however. Some were once ordinary farmers driven to the hills by hunger; others deliberately seized mountain roads and levied “tolls” on every traveler. Those two types still allowed a measure of negotiation.
The newly risen Yeonggang Stronghold was different.
“They go far beyond collecting tolls. They plunder indiscriminately and have even raided nearby villages, carrying people off. The local yamen has already posted a bounty.”
The period when the Yeonggang Stronghold’s atrocities first became known overlapped almost exactly with the time Jang Son-pyeong was returning to Shaanxi. Moreover, his route had taken him straight through the territory the stronghold now controlled. Circumstantial evidence was more than sufficient.
The three exchanged glances. There was nothing for it but to go to the Yeonggang Stronghold and see for themselves.