The Dragon-Phoenix Tournament (I)
The Mt. Hua Sword Debate ran for a full month. From each of the sects that had stood with the Murim Alliance in the last war, a single fighter stepped forward to compete.
A fortnight of matches pared the field down to eight. Those eight were likened to dragons and phoenixes, and the contests that followed were called the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament.
Some of the competitors already carried epithets that cast them as dragons or phoenixes—but fail to reach those final eight, and the sobriquet simply fell away.
Each of the eight received a participation token corresponding to one of the Eight Trigrams, and more than one fighter had rebuilt a title around that mark.
Like the Mt. Hua Sword Debate before it, the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament pitted two fighters against each other in open combat. There was, however, one crucial difference.
"If you snatch a competitor's token, you're recognized as a participant yourself."
"So? Don't tell me you're planning to steal the token of the Beidou Fist Phoenix—or rather, the Beidou Thunder Phoenix now?"
Go Jinmyung had not set foot outside his lodgings until the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament began. Once the eight finalists were set, he summoned Ak Jun and began asking after the competitors.
In the old empire, victory had depended on flooding the field with spies. Those agents murdered key figures of the new dynasty, stole their identities, and slipped into place. The rules for guarding a Dragon-Phoenix token were modeled on the same principle: competitors would be tested for their place not only in open combat, but by every means imaginable.
"Hardly. Do I look like the kind of scoundrel who'd attack a woman just because she broke off an engagement?"
"Then why the sudden interest in the Three Phoenixes and Five Dragons?"
"Young Lady Moyong holds the fifth of the Eight Trigrams… which puts her somewhere in the middle among the rising talents, doesn't it?"
"Hard to say. Word on the street is that the order is a ranking. Or maybe they simply gave her a character that suits the Moyong family's martial arts."
"Hmm. Either way—who holds the first of the Eight Trigrams?"
"The token for Qian belongs to Changcheon Geomryong, Namgung Hyeon."
"Wasn't Changcheon Geomryong already the epithet for the Namgung family's rising star last time around? Feels like they're recycling titles."
"Exactly. These days they call him the Changcheon Hidden Sword."
"Hmm. I ought to share a cup of tea with the Namgung clan."
"And how do you propose to arrange that?"
"That, Ak Jun… I'll leave to you."
"We've used up all the Hyuksal Fragrance. There's no tea left to send as a gift."
"Then go buy more."
"Namgung Hyeon's first match in the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament is already scheduled. Matching dates will be nearly impossible."
Jinmyung turned his teacup slowly in his hands.
"Then no one will be hunting Namgung Hyeon."
"What? Ah… well, the timing is tight, yes. Stealing a token doesn't end the matter—you still have to compete. On the other hand, the Namgung people will be wound tight as bowstrings."
"Has the Namgung clan's Grand Elder come?"
"I heard he passed three years ago."
"Mm… then has the clan head come in person?"
"As far as I know, yes. But why the clan head? Weren't you trying to meet Namgung Hyeon?"
"There's an old saying: to catch the thieves, catch their king."
Ak Jun felt another classical allusion coming on. To catch the thieves, catch their king was a stratagem from the military classics—strike the head, and the body falls. The trouble was that Jinmyung lost to that very tactic every time they sat down to a game of go.
"I'll try. No promises."
"I don't care when. Just get me a meeting."
Ak Jun left the lodgings with Jinmyung's words still hanging in the air. Fortunately, the Namgung clan's quarters were not far.
The problem was the aura surrounding them. Other members of the Namgung clan had sealed the place under iron guard. That pressure alone kept anyone short of a true expert from so much as lingering nearby. Ak Jun steeled himself and walked toward the Namgung lodgings.
With every step the murderous qi thickened around him.
"Halt! Who goes there?"
"Ak Jun of the Donghwa Merchant Group."
"The Donghwa Merchant Group? What business do you have—no, stay where you are. Speak from there!"
"It's dark enough that you can barely see my face as it is."
The gate guards were wound far past ordinary caution. That alone told Ak Jun something had gone wrong.
"My young master wishes an audience with the clan head."
"We'll inform His Lordship. Go back and wait."
"…Understood. My young master said any hour would do. Contact us whenever you can."
Ak Jun returned to the lodgings and reported everything to Jinmyung.
"I don't know from auras and the rest of it, but something is definitely wrong."
Jinmyung agreed.
"Do we still have any plums from Anhui?"
"Anhui plums? This mountain is covered in plum trees. Why Anhui's?"
"I'm certain a pouch of them came in with the regular shipment from the merchant group."
"I didn't bring them up here. Plums are everywhere on this mountain. They'll be at the estate in Chang'an."
"Then go get them."
"Now?"
"Yes. Send a carrier pigeon and have the escort agency run them express. You go down the mountain, meet the escorts halfway, and bring them back."
"You're that certain something's wrong? A carrier pigeon plus an express escort run—that's going to cost."
"Not certain. Only a guess. But it's worth the investment."
Ak Jun studied Jinmyung's face. The left corner of Jinmyung's mouth had lifted, just slightly. Whenever Jinmyung wore that expression, a major deal was never far behind.
The sun was already sinking, and Ak Jun was tired. So he decided to strike a bargain of his own.
"When you say meet the escorts… you don't mean wait at the foot of Mt. Hua, do you? You mean use light-body arts and go out to a midpoint."
"You read my mind. That's why it's always you, Ak Jun. There's no one else."
"Then you already know what I'm about to say."
Jinmyung sighed, then went on.
"Fine. When this is over, we go back to Shandong. That's what you wanted to hear, isn't it?"
"Yes. Of course."
Following Jinmyung's orders, Ak Jun descended Mt. Hua.
Word from the Namgung clan arrived around the Chou hour, somewhere between one and three in the morning. Jinmyung had been dozing; he rose and left the lodgings at once.
The Namgung clan sent a single escort warrior to guide him. The moment he reached their quarters, he understood exactly what Ak Jun had meant by an ominous aura.
The number of bonfires and guards far exceeded what simple vigilance against a night raid would require. Jinmyung pretended not to notice and was led to the clan head's chambers.
He straightened his robes and stepped inside. A middle-aged man was waiting for him.
"I am Go Jinmyung of the Donghwa Merchant Group."
"So you're the Go Jinmyung who closed a deal with His Majesty himself. I am Namgung Man."
The middle-aged man laughed with open generosity and gestured him to a seat. Jinmyung sat across the table, and a maid soon arrived with a teapot and poured.
"I heard you favor Hyuksal Fragrance, so I had some prepared."
Word of the gift he had once presented to the First Sword of Mt. Hua had clearly traveled far. Jinmyung lifted a celadon cup—true to Namgung style—and smiled.
"Thank you for receiving me so warmly at this late hour."
"Haha. The Donghwa Merchant Group fought beside the Murim Alliance. That alone more than earns you a proper welcome. But waiting for word into the dead of night—was it so urgent?"
"Yes. I came in haste because I hoped to propose a transaction."
"A transaction… You're not a Shandong trading house, and I can't imagine what goods you'd find to deal in here at the Mt. Hua Sect."
"What I mean to sell is Young Master Namgung Hyeon's health."
Namgung Man lifted his cup as if nothing were amiss, still smiling.
"Haha, what sort of joke is that? Our Hyeon is asleep right now, resting for his match."
"If he's truly well, then I'm afraid we have no deal."
"Has some strange rumor been circulating? Hahaha. You're no martial artist, so you may not know—once a man cultivates internal energy properly, he barely catches a common cold. You watched a fortnight of matches. Our Hyeon is perfectly fine!"
The Namgung clan favored the sword, and Namgung Hyeon practiced the Boundless Azure Sky Sword Technique—a form reserved for the direct bloodline, the same art the previous Changcheon Geomryong had wielded.
What set Namgung Hyeon apart from his predecessor was this: across a full fortnight of matches, he had revealed only a single form. Most of the spectators took that as proof that his skill already surpassed the ordinary level of a rising talent.
"But I've never heard of the Namgung clan using a swift sword to crush an opponent in a single stroke."
Jinmyung saw it differently. When two fighters of comparable strength met, victory turned on the moment and the circumstance. To his eye, Namgung Hyeon and his opponents had not been far apart in ability. What stood out was the aura Hyeon carried into each match—the same taut, watchful pressure that now hung over the entire Namgung compound.
Rigid. Guarding against something.
"Heh. It seems I overestimated you. There are realms a civilian like yourself simply cannot see. For your grandfather's sake, I'll overlook tonight's discourtesy. You may go."
A clear dismissal. Jinmyung tried to press on, but Namgung Man's face had set like stone, and the refusal was absolute.
"If you put it that way, I have no choice. Should you call for me again, tonight's price will no longer apply."
Jinmyung bowed and withdrew. On the road back to his lodgings, a full moon hung in the sky.