Hainan Sect, The Banquet of Yingtian (10)

The tournament grounds, where Cheongjin had fallen into qi deviation, had become a cauldron of shock.

To rush in blindly could prove fatal to both Cheongjin and Jin Myeong. The orthodox martial artists — Wudang among them — could only stamp their feet in helpless frustration, and the imperial household was no different.

"Those goddamn, motherfucking, shit-reeking bastards — open their mouths and all you smell is rotten fasting pills! First Hainan throws a fit, and now these ones?"

"That's it! Let's settle this today, life or death. Call in You Jiu and Pilsu! Get those two and tell them to snip every last one of those damned Daoists! The only people who can lay a hand on a eunuch are other eunuchs. Am I wrong?"

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Looking at today, the ones who have it all are itching to devour the ones who don't. Good thing it was that kid. Anyone else would've been buried in a treasure jar already."

"Of course he survived — he's Jang Jinmyeong. But are we just going to leave him looking like that?"

"Grand Director said to stay put, didn't he? Let's just watch."

The Grand Directors, who had first been stunned and then enraged, recovered their composure as they watched Jin Myeong handle the situation with relative composure.

Meanwhile.

Kaga-gang! Kiriik!

The Seven Star Sword Art and the Sun-Moon Claw had already traded hundreds of fierce exchanges, the two figures flashing across every corner of the arena.

Jin Myeong, drawing the Sunflower Water Form to its utmost, appeared and vanished along the arena's outer edge. Cheongjin, just as Daoist Hyeondo had done in days past, scattered the Seven Star Sword in every direction.

He ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had recognized that, short of the Taiji Wisdom Sword itself, the Seven Stars was the optimal sword art for pinning Jin Myeong down — a remarkable instinct, considering he had already lost his reason to qi deviation.

The distinctive bearing those two maxims represented was nowhere to be found. In its place, the sword was steeped in vicious killing intent.

So that's it. Some variety of Soul-Burning Pill, or a dark art of that kind.

Jin Myeong deflected, caught, and ricocheted the killing-soaked Seven Star Sword while he studied Cheongjin's condition. Vicious as the technique had become, the Seven Stars was still the Seven Stars. He had already experienced the same art from Hyeondo, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a master several levels above this one. The forms were already in his head.

Whoever she is, I'll put this deranged Daoist to sleep and pay her a visit shortly.

The real problem was the nature of the method used on Cheongjin — and who had deployed it, when, and how.

Wudang emphasized internal cultivation more than any other sect under heaven. It was commonly said that all martial study in the world originated from Shaolin, yet in the matter of mind arts, the consensus held that Wudang had surpassed even them. If one of the Seven Small Swords — the very disciples who represented Wudang's future — had fallen victim to such a method, this was no trivial affair.

Be that as it may, the matter immediately in front of him came first.

Either he chose this himself, or the method is extraordinary. Either way, I can't kill him.

He was still turning over how to subdue Cheongjin effectively without taking his life when—

Tada-dak! Tak!

All at once, a sound like dry kindling catching fire rang out. At the same moment, pure white true qi began to seep from Cheongjin's body as he came to a halt in the center of the arena.

He held his sword upright, the blade resting across his palm. This did not look good.

You little brat! That's Innate True Qi! He's trying to take you down with him! Do something, will you?!

Sure enough, Hyeondo's voice transmission cut through. Bound by pacts with the imperial house, the Carefree Pavilion, and his own sect, Hyeondo could not show himself so casually — and it was eating him alive. However detached he had grown from the affairs of the world, his profound love for his sect was one thing he had never fully shaken off.

Ah, well now! If it were that easy, perhaps the True Person might do it himself? At any rate, this humble official hasn't the faintest idea. I can't be held responsible.

You little—! What do you intend to do, then?!

Jin Myeong let Hyeondo's question hang and drew a deep breath.

You lunatic Daoist. Looking at you, I'd wager you've stayed a virgin all the way to that age of yours, and now you want to die together? Don't even start. I was a virgin for fifty years. But this doesn't feel right. If I get close, that's when it'll blow.

He hesitated a moment — to go in, or not — then in a single instant drove the whole of his power into both legs.

He appeared before Cheongjin.

"Kraaah!"

Already stripped of reason, Cheongjin had lost even speech. He howled like a beast and tried to thrust his sword —

"Daoist Cheongjin! Don't hold this against me."

Appearing in front of him was not the end of it. Without a pause, Jin Myeong accelerated the Sunflower Water Form still further.

Shwik! Shik! Ta-tat!

Faster than Cheongjin could extend his sword. Far faster than Cheongjin could catch the figure sliding off to the side. He unleashed, quite literally, the utmost extreme of speed.

Gliding in a circle faster than the berserk Cheongjin could react, he finally — at last — seized Cheongjin's back.

The instant he had it, Jin Myeong struck.

Go to sleep already, you lunatic Daoist.

Cheok!

A dull sound, and Jin Myeong's hand closed around Cheongjin's nape.

Invaded by Harmony Qi Absorption, Cheongjin could not so much as twitch. His body shuddered as if lightning had struck it, and the true qi within him was sucked out at a terrifying speed.

"Hah… even fallen into qi deviation…"

One who had swallowed a Soul-Burning Pill, or fallen victim to a Soul-Burning Art, would rampage in qi deviation until the very last spark of true qi was exhausted. Soul-Burning meant exactly that: the burning of the soul. In other words, the victim could not stop until both the acquired internal power they had cultivated and the True Origin they had possessed from birth were spent. And a person whose True Origin — one of the wellsprings of life itself — had been consumed would die shortly after.

So how, then, had Cheongjin survived?

"So this works. Hah…"

Harmony Qi Absorption possessed a function beyond simply absorbing true qi. It could attune the yin and yang of qi drawn from without, and, if needed, return it. Jin Myeong absorbed every last drop of internal power and True Origin, waited for the Soul-Burning to halt, and, in the instant before Cheongjin's breath ceased, breathed the True Origin back into him.

"Exhausting. Damn this Daoist."

Having subdued him, Jin Myeong — just to be safe — seized the hand that still gripped the sword and wrenched it.

Without mercy.

And yet.

Ppa-gak!

The sound of Cheongjin's shoulder bone popping from its socket rang out.

"Huh? That wasn't supposed to happen…? Well, if anyone asks, I'll just say it happened somehow. I did save his life, after all."

Mildly flustered, Jin Myeong gently released the unconscious Cheongjin's arm. He felt a little sorry for the man, but he had never set a bone in his life.

"Maybe I should've learned bone-setting from that Imperial Physician fellow. Tch."

Some time later, the uproar that had swept the tournament grounds a second time was, for the moment, settled.

Zhu Gaochi was furious — a Jianghu sect had, on the heels of the Hainan incident, once again attempted to harm an imperial official — but Zheng He restrained him. Having received Hyeondo's private word and recognized Cheongjin's symptoms himself, Zheng He explained the matter in careful detail, and Zhu Gaochi accepted it.

It stood to reason. Wudang would have to be mad to raise a hand against an imperial official. And who, after all, was responsible for Wudang standing today as one of the two great pillars of the martial world, alongside Shaolin?

The Yongle Emperor. In the seven years since his accession, he had poured a combined workforce of three hundred thousand and tens of thousands in gold into raising the finest Daoist temple under heaven upon Wudang Mountain. On top of that, he had granted two hundred and seventy-seven jie of surrounding land — nearly seven hundred acres. Thanks to that, the Daoists, who in the days of the Hongwu Emperor had numbered a mere two hundred, now counted in the thousands.

It was for that very reason that Hyeondo had entered the Carefree Pavilion. Other sects were one thing, but Wudang had no cause whatsoever to turn against the imperial house. In the present age, it was the most imperial-friendly sect under heaven.

As for Cheongjin, who had caused the disturbance, he was receiving a true-qi diagnosis from his martial brothers and recovering.

"For the Jeonbu to possess such raw strength… formidable. Wouldn't you say so, Seventh Junior Brother?"

"Raw strength? Second Senior Brother, are you saying he subdued Fourth Senior Brother with muscle?"

The brothers of the Seven Small Swords were standing guard around Cheongjin, who lay neatly on his back with cloth bound about his shoulder, and, as a bonus, were turning over the tense events of a few moments ago.

"Seventh Junior Brother, you need to cultivate a sharper eye and deeper insight. This senior brother saw it clearly. The moment Jeonbu Jang seized him by the nape, Fourth shuddered and couldn't move a muscle."

"Senior Brother, you're telling me the Jeonbu subdued our berserk Fourth Senior Brother with physical force…?"

"Fourth's internal power was exhausted. All he had left was muscle."

"Well, that's true, but—"

The Second Small Sword and the Seventh Small Sword were reconstructing and analyzing what they had just witnessed.

"I thought at first the Jeonbu had sealed his pressure points, but you saw it too, Junior Brother. Fourth's points weren't sealed. His shoulder was dislocated instead. Fourth was resisting, and the Jeonbu overpowered him, and that's how it happened. Fourth fainted because the blood flow to his brain was cut off. Isn't that so, Jeonbu?"

The problem was that Jin Myeong was standing right beside them. The Second Small Sword asked as if seeking confirmation.

"Hm? Ah…! Well, that's about right. The Second Small Sword has a keen eye. You saw it correctly. With Daoist Cheongjin in a state of qi deviation, a mistake in sealing his points could have damaged his body. I was lucky."

Jin Myeong listened to the brothers generously arriving, all on their own, at a conclusion convenient to him, and thought:

These young, long-nosed Daoists have truly original minds. The Second Small Sword in particular… this one's gift of gab is no small thing. And it's even logical.

"You flatter me, Jeonbu. I can only marvel at the divine might and judgment you displayed. Fourth is a master we ourselves could not subdue so easily."

Hearing Jin Myeong's answer, the Second Small Sword smiled with evident satisfaction and made a show of modesty.

"It was only because Daoist Cheongjin had fallen into deviation. I very nearly died myself. At any rate, Daoist Cheongjin seems well enough, so this official will take his leave. I have much to attend to."

"Once more, on behalf of our sect, we junior Daoists offer our deepest thanks. From this day forward, Wudang shall honor the Jeonbu as our benefactor. Amitabha!"

"Haha, benefactor is a bit much. Look after Daoist Cheongjin well. Then this official will be going!"

"Head Master Jang said he would receive you separately — please do pay a visit!"

There was nothing to be gained by lingering, so Jin Myeong made a hasty exit. The brothers held their fists in salute until he had gone a full six paces, then picked up the conversation where they had left it.

"Second Senior Brother, there's a reason you're Second Senior Brother. As expected."

"Naturally."

"But… I had heard that if you cut off a man's, ah, member, the sinews slacken and he gradually loses his physical strength?"

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Seventh Small Sword glanced about and asked in a low voice. It would be a headache if a passing eunuch overheard. Since time immemorial, in the presence of eunuchs one had to be careful of any word or gesture that expressed absence or having been cut. Even a dog with its tail docked, you were supposed to pretend you hadn't seen it — and mentioning it was even more out of the question. A slip, and you might not become a eunuch's mortal enemy, but you would certainly become someone they would never deal with again. As everyone knew, the hatred of a eunuch who had once taken offense was extraordinarily keen.

Of course, mentioning eunuchs to a eunuch's face made you an irreconcilable foe on the spot. As for how to be forgiven… there was one way. Exactly one.

Become a eunuch yourself.

"Junior Brother."

"What is it?"

"Have you ever been a eunuch?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"If you haven't, don't talk. Look at Jeonbu Jang's build. A full six feet tall. And it can't have been long since he was castrated, so he's still in his prime."

"Indeed, that could well be. As expected of Second Senior Brother."

"That said, Soul-Burning is truly terrifying. Fourth's internal power has vanished completely."

"You're telling me. If the Jeonbu hadn't subdued him, he'd have lost even his True Origin and died young. The True Martial Great Emperor watched over Fourth Senior Brother. Amitabha!"

"Amitabha! As you say, Junior Brother — at least he kept his life. Internal power can be cultivated again. Fourth Junior Brother will be heartbroken when he wakes. How on earth did he fall into qi deviation?"

"Whoever it was will pay the price. To dare use a hidden hand against Wudang."

The brothers, giving their misconceptions and misunderstandings the freest possible rein, burned with fighting spirit toward the enemy in the dark.

Meanwhile, Jin Myeong, making his way back toward the dais, trembled at the sense of fullness welling from below his navel. The true qi that had remained in Cheongjin's body at the time had been absorbed in its entirety.

"This isn't theft. It just happened while I was saving him."

Mildly stung, Jin Myeong was busy rationalizing it to himself. The first of the Four Rules of Eunuchs was that a eunuch does not steal. The self-justification was, therefore, absolutely necessary.

A short while later, as the sun was going down.

The market district outside Xi'an Gate. Gungga Tea House.

To think Cheongjin would fail. Jang Jinmyeong… setting aside the question of what he really is, the man is ferociously lucky.

Yi Yugyeong, raising a teacup to her fair, rosy lips, was turning over the latest failed plan and the matter of Jin Myeong.

Overlapping Jin Myeong's file with the silhouette of Yuwol Pavilion across the street, Yi Yugyeong gave a slight shake of her head.

She had never imagined Cheongjin would fail. A handful of Traceless Soul-Burning Powder went for ten taels of gold, and a considerable effort had gone into planting the suggestion. She had not anticipated that the Soul-Burning effect in Cheongjin would exhaust his internal power so early.

The Hainan affair as well — we've beaten the grass and startled the snake. This is as far as we go this time.

One more misstep here, and the whole of Yingtianfu could find itself sealed off by an army of three hundred thousand. She would have to await the next opportunity.

Yi Yugyeong rose from her seat.

"Let us go, General Nam."

"Yes, Strategist."

The middle-aged warrior Nam Woo-jeong answered. As always, Yi Yugyeong put Nam Woo-jeong at her back and left Gungga Tea House.

The shops that did their business by day were preparing to close; those that did theirs by night were doing the opposite. Yi Yugyeong walked the bustling avenue with an unhurried, graceful step.

And then.

Someone stepped out of a shop along the street.

"Oho… this humble official's eyes are being spoiled today. Miss Jin. No — was it Miss Yi?"

"I beg your pardon? I believe you have the wrong person."

She gave no outward sign, but inwardly Yi Yugyeong was startled. The man who had appeared without warning to block her path was none other than Jin Myeong — the eunuch who had inserted himself into the Faction's grand design. He was, it was true, a man of some martial ability, but in reality he was simply ferociously lucky.

"This young lady is of neither the Jin family nor the Yi family."

Yi Yugyeong answered with composure. It was surprising, and a little unsettling, that Jin Myeong had known to find her here — but she was not the kind of gifted woman to lose her head over a matter of this order.

"Come now, why be like that between fellow experts? I hear the young lady laid a hidden hand intending to send this humble official on his way. What has this pitiful eunuch done to be so thoroughly disliked?"

"Aha…! So you did come looking, knowing who I was. You grow more impressive the more I see of you. How did you know to find this young lady?"

Jin Myeong, rattling on as if it were nothing of consequence, and Yi Yugyeong, parrying with easy composure — neither was an ordinary person. In the faint smiles on both faces, a kindred temperament could be felt.

"That, I'm afraid, is an official secret, and I cannot say."

"I took you for a clever man, but you are rather careless. Coming alone? You must have some idea of the sort of work this young lady is capable of. Aren't you even a little worried? Still, that you came looking at all is a delight to me."

Yi Yugyeong smiled a smile of quiet triumph. So youth, after all, could not be disguised.

Not bold — foolish. He was nothing special. I worried for nothing.

She smiled that triumphant smile, telling herself that Jin Myeong's self-assured nature and bravado had brought catastrophe down upon his own head. She glanced at Nam Woo-jeong and gave a slight nod —

And in that instant.

"This humble official had no need to worry."

"…?"

The moment Jin Myeong's low voice ceased—

A dozen or so people appeared from the shops all around, as if they had simply seeped into the avenue itself. Slightly stooped, walking with the short, quick steps of palace servants, they were none other than the eunuchs of the Directorate of Ceremonial.

In the middle of the avenue, lit by the setting sun, a crimson gleam flashed in the eyes of the eunuchs who had surrounded Yi Yugyeong's party.

It was the signal of Sun-Moon True Qi awakening.