Songlim Garden in Chuzhou (2)
"He's my immediate senior. A bastard I'll kill with my own two hands."
"Sir?"
Jeong Go had never expected a genuine promise of murder to come out of Jong Deok's mouth. Until now the man had seemed nothing but easygoing.
In the meantime, Jong Deok flicked a glance at Jeong Go and stepped out ahead of the party.
"Well, well! Squad Leader Bong made it too? I thought it was strange — someone asking the same questions as us. So it was you who graced us with your presence, Squad Leader Bong?"
"That I did. I heard your party only started today, but of course... it's Jong Deok. Already here, are you?"
Taken as words alone, the greeting could not have been warmer. Combined with the tone and the look on their faces, however, it was something else entirely — the kind of probing exchange hostile rivals used to take each other's measure. Anyone who wasn't a complete dullard could feel the discomfort hanging in the air.
"Come on, between the likes of us? It's not like this is our first day on the scout trail."
"True enough. This much is nothing."
"So that's the fellow, then."
Sagong Cheonsu put the question to Bong Gu, who was nodding with a smirk. When Bong Gu had joined the tracking party, he had mentioned that the Eastern Depot would be bringing along a scout leader of that caliber, so Sagong Cheonsu had already guessed at Jong Deok's identity.
"Yes, yes — the finest scout leader in the Central Command."
"Weren't you just calling him 'you' a moment ago?"
"Truth is, this humble officer is a little beneath him. Isn't that right? How could I possibly measure up to you?"
The banter came wrapped in a gentle smile. Anyone watching could tell Bong Gu didn't mean a word of it — false humility, nothing more.
There were always people like that. Men who put on a show of modest self-deprecation while believing, deep down, that they were the better man. People who wrapped themselves in a disguise of humility and called it manners. Bong Gu was the very picture of it.
Ordinarily the other party would play along and return the humility in kind.
"That's about right. Everyone in the Central Command knows it."
Jong Deok was different. No — he had changed.
A vein snapped taut at Bong Gu's temple. Humiliated, in front of everyone.
That son of a bitch?
That line had been a ritual, something Bong Gu tossed out every time they crossed paths. He would feign humility, and Jong Deok would wave it off and talk him up. That had always been the order of things. Until now. Jong Deok had changed.
"W-well now! The food must taste pretty good over there, huh? Looking at how big Squad Leader Jong's gotten. And is it just me, or has his speech gotten a little short too?"
"Come on, it's not like we met yesterday. You've never been one to fuss over how a man talks."
"What, did they promise you some grand bonus? Money? Rank? One grade? Two? Whatever they promised you, it's a shame. I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you. We'll be the ones closing this case."
"And Chonggi Bong will become a Baihu, no doubt."
Sagong Cheonsu, a giant standing seven cheok tall, laid a hand on Bong Gu's shoulder and chimed in. The two men exchanged a look and smiled. A Chonggi was proper Seventh Rank. A Baihu was proper Sixth.
"Heh heh. I'll put my faith in you, my lord."
"Just close it. We'll show them our office is, in name and in fact, the greatest in the Great Ming. If you solve this, two ranks? That'll be nothing."
Sagong Cheonsu was the Northern Pacification Director of the Jinyiwei. The Northern Pacification Office was a post every Jinyiwei Commander-in-Chief had to pass through — one of the most critical seats in the entire Guard. What's more, like Gongsun Dajing, Sagong Cheonsu was a martial officer the imperial house and the Jinyiwei had poured their hearts into cultivating. A man like that took enormous pride in the Guard, and of late he had been consumed by a hostile rivalry with the Eastern Depot.
Gongsun Dajing... I'll make you regret crawling into that nest of eunuchs.
He felt something close to betrayal toward Gongsun Dajing, who could have stayed in the Jinyiwei if he had only refused hard enough, yet had walked into the Eastern Depot of his own accord.
Sagong Cheonsu had been Gongsun Dajing's classmate at the Nine Dragons Martial Academy, but his martial skill lagged about half a step behind. The sole reason he outranked Gongsun Dajing was this: unlike Gongsun Dajing, a man of orthodox warrior temperament, Sagong Cheonsu had a keen interest in politics and a formidable instinct for government affairs.
The Eastern Depot? Hmph! Did you really think a nest of eunuchs would be your way out? You should have just stayed under me.
In truth, Gongsun Dajing had been slated for a one-rank promotion after successfully escorting Crown Prince Zhu Gaochi. The man who had quietly worked behind the scenes to scuttle that promotion — arguing that without Jin Myeong, Gongsun Dajing would almost certainly have met with disaster — was none other than Sagong Cheonsu. Had Gongsun Dajing been promoted as planned, the current master of the Northern Pacification Office would have been Gongsun Dajing, not Sagong Cheonsu.
A smug smile. Sagong Cheonsu and Bong Gu watched them with that self-satisfied look, and the standoff held for a moment.
"Oh-ho... Chonggi Bong seems rather sure of himself."
Jin Myeong, who had been watching from behind the Inspection Bureau guards, walked forward.
"Who...? Ah, could you be the Realm's...!"
"Doesn't matter if you don't know who I am. Listening just now, it seems you're the one being short with people. Isn't that right, Saban Jong?"
"He didn't know, so what can you do? We'll just have to let it slide, Yeongban."
"Saban? Yeongban?"
Bong Gu, who had been vaguely guessing at Jin Myeong's identity, picked those two words out of the exchange and his expression shifted. Saban and Yeongban. Titles he had never heard in his life.
"Jong Deok, formerly a Junior Seventh Rank Sogi of the Central Military Commission, became a Junior Fifth Rank Saban as of yesterday. You'd do well to learn how to watch your tongue around a superior. Wouldn't you agree, Lord Sagong?"
"Junior Fifth Rank?"
Bong Gu followed Jin Myeong's gaze and turned to Sagong Cheonsu as well. His eyes were asking for confirmation. Was what this young eunuch had just said actually true?
Saban? Junior Fifth Rank? What the fuck kind of ghost story is this?
Junior Fifth Rank. Until a few days ago Jong Deok had been a Junior Seventh Rank errand boy, and now he'd skipped proper Seventh, Junior Sixth, and proper Sixth to land at Junior Fifth? Promotions like that were unheard of. Unless a man rode alone into enemy territory and came back with a barbarian chieftain's head, maybe.
"He was made a Saban?"
This time it was Sagong Cheonsu who asked, seeking confirmation. He knew the Eastern Depot's rank structure well enough — the senior officer titles of Jangban, Yeongban, and Saban, and their corresponding grades. What he hadn't known was that Jong Deok's rank had risen.
"Seems that particular detail didn't reach you. Well, the darkest place is often right under the lamp."
"You promoted him before the results even came in? Not one or two ranks — four?"
"We may be short on resources, but we don't lack for nerve. And hey, Chonggi Bong."
"Yes?"
"You started two days ahead of us and you're still here. Saban Jong, who started today, has already caught up. From here on, I expect we'll be overtaking you."
"...This officer has already finished his work here."
Bong Gu spoke, holding down his fury. Watching the exchange between the Realm's Grand Eunuch and Sagong Cheonsu, it seemed Jong Deok really had been made a Junior Fifth Rank Saban.
A nobody like you, Junior Fifth Rank? Fuck!
Jong Deok was talented, that much was true — but they were only a sheet of paper apart. And in tracking, a two-day head start was an enormous gap. Even if the distance had closed considerably, they still had half a day's lead. The odds were still theirs.
We have to win. We must.
The only way to smash the noses of that former errand boy Jong Deok and this swaggering eunuch was to stay ahead in the hunt.
"Is that so?"
"I don't know if you heard, but we stopped by here this morning as well."
"We were just talking about that. The proprietor here said there are three academies nearby. Looks like you've already been to those."
"We have. But did you know this?"
"Know what?"
"That there's one more, about twenty li east, at the foot of Mount Yeongam?"
The Depot guards startled and traded looks. How had Bong Gu and the Jinyiwei known that? The courier-station master had hidden it. Jin Myeong, by contrast, remained perfectly at ease. He snorted. Watching Bong Gu puff himself up and brag, he almost laughed. Finding an academy the station master hadn't mentioned — Bong Gu's skills were apparently nothing to sneeze at.
"I see. Finding an academy even the station master didn't know about — impressive, Chonggi Bong."
"We've already contacted the Jinyiwei and the Yingtian Guard. Told them to surround the academy at the foot of Mount Yeongam. Songlim Branch Academy, was it? We were on our way there."
Sagong Cheonsu cut in. He and Bong Gu had obtained elsewhere the same secret information Jin Myeong and the Depot guards had heard from the station master, then cross-checked routes and a dozen other factors until they were certain Mount Yeongam was the Blood Death Archery Corps' base.
"I see, my lord. My congratulations."
"Congratulations, between men doing the nation's work? Hardly."
"This humble official is a step behind, it seems."
"What can you do? That's what a two-day head start in tracking will do."
"But it's not over until it's over."
"Hm?"
Sagong Cheonsu, who had been turning away with all the swagger he could muster, asked the question without thinking. Not over yet?
"This humble official, Saban Jong, and Yeongban Gongsun will be faster in the end."
"What do you mean?"
"We still don't know whether that place is the rebels' base, a mere waystation, or somewhere they used and discarded, do we?"
"Whatever it is, it seems certain this office will stay ahead of you. Or am I wrong?"
"My lord — in that case, would you care to make a wager with this humble official?"
After a few more verbal thrusts, Jin Myeong laid down a challenge.
The greatest office in the Great Ming... A delusion that refined is practically a skill.
Jin Myeong's guts had been twisting ever since Sagong Cheonsu had started running his mouth about the greatest office in the Great Ming — and of all places, in front of Gongsun Dajing, Jeong Myeong-su, and Jiang Wenchen. Was that not a veiled mockery of the three men who had transferred from the Jinyiwei to the Eastern Depot?
This old man will be more than happy to move up the day you become the errand boys.
Five or six years from now, the Jinyiwei would not be the greatest office in name and fact — they would be, in name and fact, the Eastern Depot's errand boys. Knowing that and watching Sagong Cheonsu carry on like this was simply laughable.
"Hahaha! A wager? They say eunuchs can't help themselves when it comes to betting. Fine! Feeling competitive, are we? Let's do it! What's the stake?"
"This humble official will stake his post."
"Isn't that a little light? Don't you think? Gongsun Qianh—! Ah! It's Yeongban now, isn't it, Gongsun Dajing."
It was a provocation. Aimed at a classmate from the Jinyi Martial Academy, a former subordinate, a man who had betrayed the golden saber. It might have been the whole point of accepting the wager in the first place.
"This officer will stake his post as well."
Gongsun Dajing stepped forward without a sliver of hesitation. In a situation like this, one of the most critical factors was momentum. Momentum. Fall behind in momentum and you ended up with neither porridge nor rice. Whether Jin Myeong had stepped up out of stubbornness or cold calculation, Gongsun Dajing had to back him.
If a general cannot trust his brothers-in-arms, whom can he trust?
But Gongsun Dajing was a cold-headed man. He hadn't taken the bait — he believed in Jin Myeong. The man who had saved him and his subordinates during the escort of Crown Prince Zhu Gaochi, the fiercest battlefield of his life, and fought beside them. A brother who had shared blood in the most violent, most perilous of battles.
The Realm's Grand Eunuch would never lay a wager he was going to lose.
What's more, he had never once seen the man fail. Even when it looked like failure, by the end Jin Myeong was always the one standing in the place of success.
You don't know the Realm's Grand Eunuch, Sagong Cheonsu.
A eunuch they called a betting demon — and of the ten thousand eunuchs in the palace, the Realm's Grand Eunuch, currently the one riding highest of all — would never put money on a losing wager.
"Heh! Fine. This side will stake this office's post, plus one more man."
"While we're at it, why not stake the posts of both entire tracking parties? They say the true flavor of a wager is all or nothing."
Jin Myeong jacked up the stakes as if the other side's offer had left him unsatisfied. The great principle of palace wagers: the pot was all or nothing.
"I'm with you, Yeongban. This officer will stake his post too. Damn right! Absolutely!"
Jong Deok added this while looking at Bong Gu with an expression that was half smirk, half glare. This was the last match with Bong Gu. If Bong Gu transferred permanently to the Jinyiwei the way Jong Deok had transferred to the Eastern Depot, that would be one thing — but if this was only a temporary assignment, this was likely their last encounter. Years ago, Bong Gu had thrown his scout-squad brothers into a field of death to save his own skin and come back alone. Jong Deok had to crush him. If he could do that, he would stake not just his post but his life.
Entanglements that tangled and complicated piled provocation upon counterstrike. The remaining Depot guards simply stood at attention and clasped their fists toward Jin Myeong, as if there was nothing worth saying. They would follow. Jeong Myeong-su and Jiang Wenchen, both originally of the Jinyiwei, were with them.
Standing with the other Depot guards, Jeong Myeong-su and Jiang Wenchen felt a fresh surge of pride. They hadn't understood it before, but last night's drinking had taught them. Eunuchs were the real ones — men who knew loyalty and honor. They might not be whole in body, but in spirit they were men as true as anyone.
"Mmh..."
Faced with that unified movement from Jong Deok and the Depot guards, Sagong Cheonsu felt the pressure. He had never expected the entire party to step up as one. He hadn't wanted to lose face on nerve, and he'd wanted to use the occasion to properly crush Gongsun Dajing, his old rival. So he had provoked them hard — and gotten a peck back for a pint. Stake everyone's posts? He didn't know about the Realm's Grand Eunuch, but he himself was not the one who held the power of appointment. And if, by some chance, they lost...?
If we actually lost... No. There's no way we lose. Songlim Branch Academy is certain.
Piecing together the intelligence they had gathered, it was clear that four hundred Blood Death archers had been staying at Songlim Branch Academy.
We've already claimed it, so they'll have to look elsewhere.
Even merchants had a code. They wouldn't just tag along after information this side had secured and then openly spilled. That would be losing anyway.
When thoughts run long, they become distractions. Winning is all that matters.
Sagong Cheonsu shook the dregs of unease from his mind. Winning was enough — and this was a contest he could not lose.
"Fine. We'll do it that way. Supervisor Jang — I'm curious what you're putting your faith in, to be so confident."
"Yeongban Gongsun. Station Master Jeong. Middle Station Master Jiang. Saban Jong and the Depot guards. What else is there to trust besides family?"
"...I'll be looking forward to it. Let's see, then. You won't come begging to back out later, I trust?"
"Oh-ho...? As if I would."
But he needed to make it certain. He needed to lock in his own side's victory more firmly and thoroughly obstruct the other side's progress. A suitable method occurred to Sagong Cheonsu, and he chose as its instrument his former subordinate, who was looking this way.
A short while later, after Sagong Cheonsu's party had left for Mount Yeongam, they were still at the courier station. Most of the Depot guards, having had their target of Mount Yeongam snatched away by Sagong Cheonsu and Bong Gu, wore looks of deflation, and Jiang Wenchen was fidgeting, restless and ill at ease. Jong Deok, however, whose motivation was rock-solid, was another matter.
"Both Yeongban — there's still a way. Songlim Branch Academy is nothing but a waystation. We should move, and quickly."
He urged Jin Myeong and Gongsun Dajing, who had been lost in thought.
"Yeongban Jang. Let's go as Saban Jong says. We can't just stand here."
Gongsun Dajing broke off his deliberations and looked at Jin Myeong, and Jin Myeong too pulled himself out of his thoughts.
"Hrm... Very well. Let's go, Saban Jong."
"Yes. This time we should move south."
South. The possibility that Gong Jeong-mun and four hundred Blood Death archers had moved along the lower Yangtze to the south, and the possibility of tracking the two units that had traveled from Jiangnan. A direction that held both of those possibilities. But Jin Myeong's thinking was different.
"No. We go west."
"Sir?"
Jong Deok, who had been about to take the lead and set the path, turned back with a bewildered look, as if to ask what that was supposed to mean. In that instant, Jin Myeong's face grew grave.