The Hainan Sect, Yingtian's Banquet (9)
"Work together...? You drop out of thin air and the first words from your mouth are let's work together? Heh heh heh. Young Hero. This old man hasn't the faintest notion what you're talking about."
Geum Jong-mu was baffled — genuinely, thoroughly at a loss. He had been on the verge of returning to his sect when this girl materialized without warning and, skipping every courtesy that existed under heaven, proposed they collaborate on a single matter. And the one making the proposal looked as though she had barely crossed twenty.
Nam Yeonghak felt the same.
Skip the beginning, skip the middle, and jump straight to "let's work together"? What manners.
He was already at his wits' end worrying over the sect's future. What was this — a cat gnawing on a dog's bone? Complete nonsense. It was one of two things. Either the beauty standing before them had no manners whatsoever.
Or she has a background to match that audacity.
Nam Yeonghak narrowed his eyes.
Wuncheonwon... an unfamiliar name.
She was a beauty striking enough to make a man's eyes fly open, but in the Jianghu, children, women, and the elderly were the three types one could never afford to take lightly. This was a world where a moment's carelessness could cost you your nose while your eyes were still wide open. Having long since passed the hot-blooded years of twenty and thirty and now stepping into his forties, Nam Yeonghak was well past the age of losing his wits over a pretty face. As the Head Disciple of his sect, he could not afford to, either.
"You said your name was Young Hero Jin, was it? No explanation of circumstances, no introduction — you simply appear and demand we work together. And the man you are addressing is the Sect Leader of great Hainan. As his disciple, I find this offensive. Before you go proposing ventures, you might first learn how to observe proper courtesy. Sect Leader, shall we be on our way?"
"Let us. Young Hero Jin — I wish you fortune in the martial world."
Geum Jong-mu and Nam Yeonghak swung into their saddles and gathered the reins. Cases like this were hardly rare. Wealthy men and local strongmen who approached putting on airs of great importance, only to offer some paltry, ridiculous proposal. Borrow the sect's name for a business. Provide dedicated bodyguards. Kill a man on their behalf. Stand in as a proxy for a duel. They were in the middle of a contest tour, so please duel them, and on and on. Every variety of favor had been asked, and both men assumed Yi Yugyeong would be no different.
"I hear you suffered a rather spectacular humiliation this time. What a pity... We, for our part, could take care of one of Hainan's — and Hero Geum's — little headaches."
Both men yanked their reins. Nam Yeonghak swung down from the saddle, his face gone hard.
"I was going to let it pass, since you seem poorly versed in Jianghu affairs — but this exceeds all bounds, Young Hero Jin. Humiliation? That is not a word you have any right to put in your mouth. Do you understand me? And what was that? Our sect's headache? What do you imagine you know? Do you dare sit in judgment of great Hainan with that three-inch tongue of yours?"
His insides were already burning. Nam Yeonghak, fury written across every line of his face, stepped in with open menace — and that was when the middle-aged warrior at Yi Yugyeong's side moved to intercept. Yi Yugyeong put out a hand and stopped him.
"It's all right. Don't interfere."
"Yes, Miss."
The middle-aged warrior answered as though her word were a command from heaven itself, and withdrew. Even as he stepped back he locked eyes with Nam Yeonghak, and sparks leapt between them — each man weighing the other's realm, pressing with aura.
An expert... I can't take his measure.
Nam Yeonghak felt from the middle-aged warrior the sensation of standing before a massive boulder. The man had bled the tension from every muscle in his body, ready to strike at any instant, and poured true qi in its place. The moment his will moved, his flesh would answer like a coiled spring. Knowing what a natural stance meant and actually achieving it, as this man had, were two very different things. Whether by skill or by years, he had the look of a guard captain, and the younger escorts around him did not look ordinary either.
"Hero Nam. If I gave offense, I apologize. This young lady has never cared for superfluous talk, so I'll be blunt."
"...?"
Yi Yugyeong sent the words by sound transmission into Nam Yeonghak's startled face. It was not a conversation one held out in the open, on a thoroughfare where people came and went.
What good would holding out do? He'll come around in the end.
She had come to Yingtianfu to gather intelligence and, while she was at it, to deal with Jin Myeong, who had obstructed the Covenant's plans. Then something entertaining had unfolded. Hainan had gotten itself tangled up with that same Jang Jinmyeong, suffered a humiliation that all but wrecked the sect, and been driven off in disgrace. It had been fascinating from start to finish — from the appearance of a thousand eunuchs who were clearly being appointed as Eastern Depot guards, all the way through the duels. Thanks to it, she had been able to update a considerable portion of the intelligence she already held: the projected scale of the Eastern Depot, the martial attainments of the high-ranking eunuchs, and the achievements of Jang Jinmyeong himself, the very target of this operation.
Jang Jinmyeong had, somewhere along the way, become a sixth-rank Jeonbu. Judging by the result of his duel with Seong Munjeong, his attainment was at minimum the Initial Peak Realm. A startling achievement. She had confirmed that he was a eunuch who had entered the palace barely a month ago — but as the Grand Preceptor had said, the possibility that he was a eunuch secretly cultivated by the Directorate of Ceremonial could not be ruled out. If the Directorate of Ceremonial, the Brocade Guards, and the imperial house set their minds to it, that degree of information blackout and disguise was well within their power. In any case, he was clearly a person of importance. Deal with him this time, and that would be the end of it.
Meanwhile, Nam Yeonghak flinched as though the sound transmission had driven a needle into a vital point. For a moment the stunned man could not find his tongue.
The second transmission closed around Nam Yeonghak and Hainan like a fist. From their position, it was a proposal too attractive to refuse — the kind of offer that made it impossible not to listen, that made a man need to know more.
A quarter of an hour later, at Gungga Tea House, directly opposite Yuwol Pavilion.
The empty third floor held Yi Yugyeong and her escorts, Geum Jong-mu, two elders, and Nam Yeonghak. The matter was far too sensitive; Seong Munjeong had been excluded. They had already finished most of the discussion, beginning with the disposal of Jang Jinmyeong.
"We'll handle the method. Hainan need only wait for the result. It should begin shortly."
"Young lady. As a sect, we find ourselves growing curious about you and Wuncheonwon. A place that can speak so casually of doing such a thing, and with such confidence..."
The speaker was Second Elder Gongbaek, who had been humiliated in his duel with Senior Superintendent Overseer Yi Gwak. As he said — in this bright and ordered world, what manner of organization could confidently declare it would dispose of a eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial? Simple disposal was one thing. The problem was the aftermath. The reckoning that followed. And the Yingtian Banquet was still underway. Had they not seen it with their own eyes today — the thousand eunuchs, and the three who had taken the stage and demonstrated their power? What did they intend to do about eunuchs who would hunt a man to the ends of the earth? And what of the twenty thousand Brocade Guards who would come tracing after? It was not something one could readily accept.
"We'll tell you that once we're in the same boat. Hmm. The tea has a rather fine fragrance. Gungga Tea House... I suppose the imperial capital really is different. Do try some."
Whether Hainan accepted it or not was no concern of hers. Yi Yugyeong lifted her teacup and turned her gaze out the window. The heat had begun to ease; the weather was rather pleasant. The kind of weather that would feel perfect once a certain small nuisance had been dealt with.
"Lovely day, isn't it."
A short while later, at the tournament grounds.
The unsettled atmosphere that had followed Hainan's departure recovered almost at once. Hainan was Hainan; this was this. Had the imperial house persecuted them without grounds, there might have been some sympathy — but the reasons had been more than sufficient. No matter how one turned it over, there was no cause for the imperial house to go out of its way, even to the point of staging a match, simply to ruin Hainan.
A disciple, born with a silver spoon as the child of the Sect Leader and the Head Disciple, had been unjustly expelled through the scheming of his fellow disciples and become a eunuch? And the senior brothers who had resolved to cleanly dispose of that expelled disciple, because he knew their filthy secrets? Heaven was wide and stories were numberless; it was not an entirely impossible tale. Had Hainan been a sect sitting in the heart of the Central Plains, entangled in this and that, the matter might have been taken somewhat more seriously. But a sect on a distant island south of Guangxi Province could rise or fall without casting so much as a shadow here. The Guangdong Jin Clan next door might pay attention. Most sects and families did not.
Meanwhile, on the dais, Princess Ju Jeong-won — who had been sitting demurely beside her father — turned to Zhu Gaochi.
"Father."
The ten-year-old girl had been agonizing for a fortnight over whether to speak. The morning's events had given her courage.
"Our princess has something to say to her father, has she?"
"Please let Inner Attendant Jang Jinmyeong serve at my side."
"Oh? So our princess has taken a fancy to the Jeonbu? Well now... but what am I to do? This father has already claimed him."
"Faaather—"
Caught off guard by her father's unexpected answer, Ju Jeong-won caught his hand and began to wheedle. The princess already monopolized the imperial family's affection; watching her cling to Zhu Gaochi, the guards and eunuchs nearby broke into open smiles.
"Are you aware that your brothers have their eyes on the Jeonbu as well?"
Any direct imperial residing in the palace wanted an outstandingly handsome, talented eunuch as a close attendant. One spent all twelve watches of the day in their company — better, then, that they be pleasing to look at and quick on their feet. Human desire differed in scale according to how one lived; the shape of it was much the same.
"This daughter already gave Brother Zhanji fair warning."
Which was to say she had put the fear of heaven into Zhu Zhanji, the eldest, so that the other brothers would not dare make a move. Zhu Zhanji adored Ju Jeong-won to a fault; it meant she had already settled every last sibling.
"Already? Hah! Looking at this, the princess's methods put even her father the Crown Prince to shame. Hahaha! But what am I to do? Even this father cannot dispose of an inner attendant as he pleases. That is a matter for His Majesty the Emperor and for the Grand Director over there."
His daughter's ability to stay a step ahead of him was so thoroughly adorable that Zhu Gaochi burst into a great rolling laugh. How was it that a daughter could be this precious? For that moment he forgot even the dignity of a Crown Prince, and was nothing but a father.
"Is that so? Grand Directooor—"
Hearing her father's words and identifying Zheng He as the final obstacle, Ju Jeong-won charged him at once. She pattered over, caught hold of Zheng He's eunuch robes, and called to him with sweet affection.
"Yes, yes! Your Highness the Princess."
"Can you have Jeonbu Jang attend me?"
Zheng He took an internal injury on the spot — a critical one, inflicted by the lethal cuteness of Ju Jeong-won's round, lovely face looking up at him.
His Highness is using the princess. He knows this servant is weak to children... This is a crisis. Even if I must let him go, I ought to get something in return before I do.
Eunuchs wagged their tails before those stronger than themselves, advertising their own weakness and seeking to attach themselves. Toward the opposite sort of people — especially women and children who had never trained in martial arts — they harbored a genuine fondness, doting on them the way one dotes on a small pet. Taking that habit into account, Princess Ju Jeong-won was the imperial palace's ultimate weapon, fully capable of laying waste to every eunuch in it.
"Your Highness, this servant is dreadfully sorry to report it, but his education is not yet complete, and so..."
"Grand Directooor—"
"Nngh...!"
"Hahaha! The Grand Director of all the realm has met his match!"
Zhu Gaochi and the Brocade Guard escorts broke into a round of laughter as Zheng He, suddenly plunged into crisis, flustered and floundered with panic written all over his face.
Meanwhile, Zhuge Gongjin, who was overseeing the tournament, checked the next pairing.
"This round is... Wudang. At last — the appearance of Wudang's Seven Small Swords."
According to the order, it was the turn of Cheongjin, Fourth Small Sword among the Seven Small Swords who represented Wudang's second generation, the pride of the sect. He was twenty-five. Every one of the Seven Small Swords was a young expert who had reached the Initial Peak Realm.
"Next! Cheongjin of the Wudang Sect!"
At Zhuge Gongjin's call, Cheongjin flew onto the dueling stage in a single bound. His movement was as fluid as if he were climbing a ladder of clouds in pursuit of the sky itself — unmistakably the Cloud-Treading Art.
As if climbing a ladder of clouds in pursuit of the sky itself — the signature lightness art of Wudang.
It fell far short of the level Hyundo had displayed before, but to the vast majority of Jianghu folk it was extraordinary. As if to prove it, murmurs of admiration rose from every corner of the grounds.
"Ohh!"
"That's Wudang for you!"
His complexion doesn't look good, though.
Seen up close, Zhuge Gongjin found that Cheongjin's face was drawn, at odds with the elegance of his movement. It was difficult to put a finger on precisely — but there was something dark about him. As though the clear, bright qi peculiar to Wudang ran thinner than it should.
"Daoist Cheongjin, you don't look well. Are you all right?"
"I am fine, Hero."
"Is that so? Well then, your opponent is..."
The man himself said he was fine; what was there to do? Zhuge Gongjin thought little of it and was about to name the opponent when Cheongjin spoke.
"Hero. There is someone I wish to challenge separately. May I name him?"
"Mm? That was not agreed—"
"Your Highness! Cheongjin of Wudang has a petition for Your Highness!"
Cheongjin dropped to his knees in the center of the dueling stage and made an unscheduled request. Several Wudang Daoists shot to their feet, startled by their disciple and martial brother's sudden conduct.
"You are Cheongjin, Daoist of Wudang in Huguang. Speak."
Zhu Gaochi answered, a gleam of interest on his face as well.
"This humble Daoist beheld the martial attainment of Jeonbu Jang Jinmyeong of the Directorate of Ceremonial this morning, and was filled with admiration. I wish to discuss the martial arts with Jeonbu Jang Jinmyeong. I beg Your Highness's leave."
"He wishes to cross hands with Jeonbu Jang Jinmyeong? Grand Director — what do you think? Should we ask the Jeonbu his wishes?"
Which was, in other words, a question of whether Jang Jinmyeong could win. If one were going to step forward at all, better to uphold the dignity of the state. Zhu Gaochi knew well enough that Wudang numbered among the foremost powers, and so he asked.
"If we shrink from a challenge issued by a subject of the realm, the dignity of the state and the imperial house will suffer. He will not fall easily."
"Quite so. Is Jeonbu Jang Jinmyeong of the Directorate of Ceremonial present?"
Hearing Zheng He's answer, Zhu Gaochi sought Jin Myeong with a face from which some of the worry had eased. It meant, at least, that he would not be knocked down in some unsightly heap.
"Here, Your Highness!"
Jin Myeong was standing just outside the steps a little below the dais.
"A Daoist of Wudang wishes to behold the essence of the imperial house's martial learning. Step forward."
"As you command! This servant shall give his utmost."
Jin Myeong bowed at the waist. The look on his face made it abundantly clear that he found the whole affair a nuisance.
A short while later, before the duel began.
A familiar sound transmission slipped into the ear of Jin Myeong, who stood at one end of the dueling stage watching Cheongjin.
Go easy on him.
The voice belonged to Hyundo of the Carefree Pavilion. Hyundo, the Wudang Palm King.
I hear the Seven Small Swords are experts. How exactly am I supposed to go easy?
Hyundo was visible below the dais, holding Zhu Gaochi's horse by the reins. The more Jin Myeong thought about it, the more absurd it was — this man, disguised as a eunuch, looking this way. Having watched Cheongjin's Cloud-Treading Art and realized that Jin Myeong was a cut above, Hyundo had no wish to see a disciple of his own sect beaten in some unsightly fashion. Least of all with the bald monks of Shaolin looking on.
That's how you're going to play it?
The dantian.
What?
Fix just the one dantian, and I'll do as you ask. That would be using one of the two favors.
Jin Myeong seized the moment. He had been meaning to seek Hyundo out before long and make the request anyway; now the man had presented himself of his own accord.
Has this brat taken leave of his senses? Rebuilding a dantian is not a thing one speaks of so lightly!
I looked into it. They say Wudang's Yin-Yang Wuji True Qi can do that very thing.
The Yin-Yang Wuji True Qi that Hyundo had brought to completion was, together with Shaolin's Tendon-Changing Marrow-Washing Classic, one of the very few divine arts capable of restoring a shattered dantian.
Out of the question!
It seems the True Immortal is not up to the task. In that case, I'll just have to ask Shaolin.
Jin Myeong needled the vicious competitive streak that every disciple of Shaolin and Wudang carried in his bones.
Hmph! Whatever tricks a eunuch of some rank might try, do you imagine those bald monks would hand over the Tendon-Changing Marrow-Washing Classic? Preposterous!
That's settled, then. Daoist Cheongjin is going to have to suffer a proper public humiliation today.
You— you insolent brat!
Zhuge Gongjin looked about to signal the start of the duel. Jin Myeong cut the transmission.
And then.
Not long after the duel began, the tournament grounds were swept by another shock.
Hyundo's frantic voice, shaken to its core, slammed into Jin Myeong's ear. The reason Jin Myeong, Hyundo, and the entire grounds had been plunged into shock was this: Cheongjin had suddenly run wild, reason gone, pouring out vicious killing techniques in an unending stream.
Reason lost. The whites of his eyes stained the color of blood. Vicious killing techniques pouring forth without restraint as he drove Jin Myeong back across the stage.
The whites of Cheongjin's eyes, as he pressed Jin Myeong, were stained as red as blood.
Hearing Hyundo's desperately urgent transmission, Jin Myeong spread his spiritual sense and thought:
Did this bastard take something? Looks like he popped some kind of drug. Those blood-red eyes aren't normal — not even close.