Songlim Garden in Chuzhou (3)
At the same hour, at the Songlim Branch Academy on Mount Yeongam.
At the end of a valley cut from south to north, inside a secluded manor, men dressed as scholars moved with frantic purpose. The grounds looked for all the world as if the household were packing up to move.
"Hurry!"
"Yes!"
A closer look at the scholars told another story. They wore no furs against the midwinter cold of the first month, and their wide sleeves were rolled up past the elbows. Beneath those sleeves, forearms far too thick for men who supposedly spent their days with a writing brush flexed with knotted, angry muscle.
Whatever they were, they were no ordinary scholars.
"Divide the ledgers among yourselves and burn the rest. Take only your personal belongings."
"Yes!"
At the heart of the manor, a middle-aged scholar standing before the ancestral shrine dedicated to Confucius kept driving his men onward.
That morning, an order had arrived to abandon the Songlim Branch Academy and return to the main estate — a follow-up measure after the operation four days prior had failed.
It meant cutting off the tail.
"Those Unorthodox Path archers have cost our clan one of its assets."
He regretted the Songlim Branch Academy that would soon be nothing but ash. It was one of the key strongholds ringing Yingtianfu, spacious enough to house as many as five hundred, and a historic manor besides, raised centuries ago in the days of the Song. That was likely why the withdrawal order had only come on the fourth day.
"How could the Clan Head possibly join hands with those Unorthodox Path lackeys…!"
The middle-aged scholar sighed as he watched his subordinates and the laborers bustling across the grounds. For several years now, the clan's course had been incomprehensible. This affair was the crowning mystery of them all.
The Zhuge Clan — one pillar of the Five Great Orthodox Families — colluding with the Evil Path. And not with some ragtag rabble, but with the Blood Death Archery Corps. The Blood Death Archery Corps. One of the Eighteen Brigades of the Evil Path, a name that could silence even a crying child in the marketplace.
And those Blood Death Archery Corps had gone and struck at the Emperor himself. He had been so terrified that even thinking of it now made his head spin.
"Then again, it's hardly a lowly branch leader's place to concern himself."
Regret it or not, what could a mere Branch Leader do? The higher-ups had decided.
Before long, the withdrawal preparations were complete. Some twenty scholars had packed simple bundles; so had the fifty-odd laborers. Personal belongings and a little food — nothing more. The scholars stood in the front row, the laborers neatly lined up behind them, waiting for the next order.
"Hall Master, preparations are complete."
The middle-aged scholar, a Branch Leader of the Zhuge Clan, approached a man who had been gazing at the portrait of Confucius inside the shrine and made his report. The scholar who had arrived that morning was the one presiding over today's proceedings.
"Well done, Branch Leader."
A man of about thirty, with a youthful, clear countenance, turned and answered. His refined features and faint, almost-smile were the look of a scholar who had devoted himself to learning. The Confucian robe and fur coat he wore looked extremely expensive besides.
The one incongruous detail was the iron fan he carried, each rib forged in the shape of a flickering flame. That iron fan was the very emblem of the Zhuge Clan, and the ruby set in the heart of each flame-shaped tip was proof that its owner ranked as a Hall Master — a direct descendant and high officer whom a collateral-line Branch Leader dared not meet eye to eye.
"Proceed."
Having received the report, the Zhuge Clan's Hall Master ordered him to proceed, and offered not another word of explanation.
Proceed with what?
The Branch Leader who heard it did not ask.
"Yes, Hall Master. Proceed."
"Yes!"
The laborers, who had been waiting for travel money to start new lives elsewhere, were still wondering what else there could possibly be to proceed with when—
Thuk-thuk-thuk! Thuk-thuk!
The scholars standing in front of the laborers spun around and struck. Straightened index fingers found the death points along the laborers' meridians.
"Wh-what? Ghk!"
"Why…?"
"Aaaah!"
It was over in an instant. The laborers, illiterate and untrained, could not shake off the scholars' acupoint seals.
Thud.
The fifty-odd laborers collapsed onto the cold floor without taking more than a few steps. This was the killing of those who knew the secret, and thereby the silencing of their mouths. Murder to erase the witnesses.
"It's done, Hall Master."
"Well done. Set the fire."
"Yes! Set the fire!"
"Yes!"
The scholars who received the order raced through the manor's halls, hurling torches as they went. The fire swelled in moments and swallowed the estate that had stood at the foot of Mount Yeongam for centuries.
So even if Sagong Cheonsu's party and the Imperial Guards arrived a little later, the only scenery waiting for them would be ashes and some fifty corpses.
At dusk, in the rear-courtyard private quarters of Fengyun Restaurant in Qingliu County, at the heart of Chuzhou.
The party, having ridden a hundred li without rest, was unpacking and regulating their inner energy. Sagong Cheonsu's appearance had forced them to move in such haste that they had skipped every meal but breakfast, and their stomachs were stuck to their backbones. The day was beginning to fade besides, so they needed a base to pass the night.
"The petty bastard actually told me to play spy. How long has it been since I was struck from the military rolls, and he still thinks he's my direct superior?"
"Wahahaha!"
While they waited for food in the inner room, Jiang Wenchen was tearing into Sagong Cheonsu over what had happened in front of the escort agency.
That was the gist of the telepathic message Sagong Cheonsu had sent Jiang Wenchen before they parted.
"I almost punched him right there, but I held back."
Jiang Wenchen raised a clenched fist, looking thoroughly put out. A man with no home, no temple, and no family — even threatened, there was no chance he would betray the party. What kind of bond did Jiang Wenchen and Gongsun Dajing share?
Sagong Cheonsu wouldn't have known, but it was Gongsun Dajing who had recommended Jiang Wenchen — then of the Central Military Commission — to the Embroidered Uniform Guard.
"Director Zhang, did you know?"
"Know what?"
"That Sagong Cheonsu fellow blocked Commander Gongsun's promotion."
"Is that so?"
Jin Myeong and everyone present looked at Gongsun Dajing in surprise. There had been such a thing?
"I heard it from the Commander's adjutant. That fellow is a colleague of mine."
"Well, it was strange he wasn't promoted after completing a three-month escort."
Jin Myeong was right. They had seen the Crown Prince's provincial tour through to a successful end, and Jin Myeong, who had joined at the last moment, had been raised two ranks. Yet Gongsun Dajing, who had safeguarded the entire three-month journey, had received a little silver and nothing more; his rank had stayed exactly where it was.
At the time, Huang Yan, the former Chief Brush-Holding Grand Eunuch, had not yet betrayed his clan, so they had not yet forged a true friendship with Gongsun Dajing, and they had simply let it pass. But to think there was this story behind it. He finally understood why Sagong Cheonsu had tried to drag Gongsun Dajing into the wager when he accepted it.
"If Commander Gongsun had been promoted properly then, he would have become master of the Northern Pacification Office — that's why the bastard pulled that stunt. The cowardly son of a bitch… A general only needs to know the sword. Dirty underhanded tricks…"
"Station Master Jiang, that's enough. He's a superior officer."
Gongsun Dajing cut Jiang Wenchen off as the curses aimed at Sagong Cheonsu began to fly in earnest.
"I'll follow your orders, but I don't consider that man my superior."
"That's right! Of course you don't. Station Master Jiang, I had you pegged from the start. You've got loyalty. A general without loyalty is nothing but a mongrel! That Sagong — or should I say ferryman — bastard was a Bong Gu type through and through."
Jong Deok slapped his knee and jumped in. He too had suffered enough scheming and slander at Bong Gu's hands to make his teeth chatter, and he knew the feeling well.
"It's a good thing I made that wager. We're not the type to let someone who stabs his own people in the back walk away. Isn't that right?"
"Yes, sir!"
"While we're at it, let's strip him bare and throw him out."
"…Hmm. But what do you intend to do, Director?"
Gongsun Dajing, who had been shaking his head with a wry smile at the cheek of Jin Myeong and the Depot guards, grew serious and asked. It was a question they all shared. Chuzhou, out of nowhere. They had moved in such haste that they had never heard a proper explanation from Jin Myeong — the reason he had chosen Chuzhou as their destination.
"Orderly Jong, what did that scout leader who was at Mount Lao that day say? He said he didn't see them, didn't he?"
Jin Myeong answered by turning to Jong Deok. Mount Lao stood northwest of Yingtianfu's downtown, right on the banks of the Yangtze, and on the day of the bloodshed at Mount Baohua a scout leader from the Central Military Commission had been posted on its summit as well. That man was a friend of Jong Deok's.
"That's right…! Aha! So that's what you were thinking. I'll be damned!"
Jong Deok thought for a moment, then nodded as if he had caught Jin Myeong's meaning, and went on.
"They didn't see those rotten bastards from the Mount Lao side, so it wouldn't be Quanjiao County — which means it would be here in Qingliu County, or Lai'an County, wouldn't it?"
If Gong Jeong-mun and the four hundred of the Blood Death Archery Corps had passed through Quanjiao County, the southernmost part of Chuzhou, and headed east, they would have used the official road that ran near Mount Lao. But they had not been seen at Mount Lao. And yet it was certain they had crossed from the north bank of the Yangtze to Tangshan and Mount Baohua.
So Gong Jeong-mun and the four hundred archers had gone east through Qingliu County here, further north than Quanjiao, or through Lai'an County further to the northeast — then arrived at the Songlim Branch Academy on Mount Yeongam and stayed a day. That was the thinking, wasn't it?
"As expected, Orderly Jong, you're a genius at this. This official spent four days turning the matter over, and you saw it in an instant."
"Hehehe! You're too kind. In this subordinate's opinion, searching Qingliu County and Lai'an County ought to turn up answers."
"After listening to your deductions for a few days, that's the thought that occurred to me."
"Sounds valid to this subordinate as well. I've learned a thing or two, sir."
"Learned a thing or two? More like a blind cat catching a mouse."
"Hey, but how long's it been since we ordered food? They planning to bring it next year? I'm so hungry I could drop dead. Somebody go check?"
"This humble one will go."
At Jong Deok's words as he rubbed his rumbling stomach, Jeong Go stood up from one side. Jeong Go was the youngest of the Inspection Bureau.
"Cheongsa Jeong going, then? Tell them if they don't bring the food within half a ke, we ain't paying! Puhuhu!"
"Haha! Yes, I'll—!"
Just then.
"Ahem! This young master will handle it himself. Just go make your report."
"…Ah! That… um… Honored guest, this girl is Dongdong."
From outside came a young man's commanding voice and a dedicated maid's flustered one.
Creeeak.
Jeong Go, who had been about to look for Dongdong anyway, opened the door without hesitation since he was already on his feet. Through the gap, the figures of young men and women of noble bearing came into view.
Three men and two women, all appearing to be in their early to mid-twenties. Every one of them was a strikingly handsome man or beautiful woman, aristocratic airs pouring off them in waves.
"This humble junior of the martial world greets the assembled heroes of Jianghu."
The young scholar at the front stepped forward. They all wore the Confucian robes favored by men of letters, and the iron fans in their hands covered the lower half of their faces. The fan ribs of the young scholar who had come forward first were set with blue sapphires. The rest held red rubies.
Snap!
Midway through his greeting, the young man folded the fan in his hand.
"I am Chaosheng of the Zhuge Clan."
"…We humble juniors of the martial world greet the Young Clan Head of the Divine Miracle Zhuge Clan. I am Chang Jin of the Changsheng Trading House."
When Zhuge Chaosheng's introduction ended, Wang Zhen stood and broke the brief silence that followed. Sharp-minded Wang Zhen had memorized most of the information on the hundred-odd sects of the Central Plains. Jin Myeong and Gongsun Dajing were no different.
"But what business brings the Young Clan Head all the way here?"
"…So you are the heroes of the Changsheng Trading House. We've come to ask if you might yield this space. We will compensate you generously."
In the brief exchange of names, Zhuge Chaosheng searched his mind for Changsheng Trading House and came up with nothing. In truth, his first impression when the door opened had been that they were disciples of a major orthodox sect. One of them, with a light demeanor, looked weathered by the world's hardships, but the rest were all young, with distinguished and handsome features. Three wore red robes, the rest black. Their attire was uniform, and their hair was neatly coiled up with gold crowns set on the tops of their heads — a style popular in great cities like Yingtianfu and Shuntian Prefecture.
But the name was not in a mind that prided itself on storing every scrap of general information about Jianghu, so he simply took them for a merchant family, or some well-heeled nobodies. He never dreamed they would be government officials — let alone the Eastern Depot.
Changsheng Trading House was the cover identity the Eastern Depot had adopted for this mission.
"The rear courtyard?"
At the sudden request to yield the rear courtyard, Wang Zhen glanced back at the party. Jin Myeong, the party's leader, was merely gazing at his teacup.
That meant no.
"About ten more people will be joining us shortly, and we have important matters to discuss, so we're looking for a quiet place."
"I see. We should certainly take your circumstances into full consideration, but we happen to have similar circumstances of our own, which is why we reserved the rear courtyard. I'm afraid that makes it difficult, Hero Zhuge."
"Hmm… What to do about this…?"
"What's there to do, Elder Brother Chaosheng?"
From behind Zhuge Chaosheng, who looked slightly put out, a sharp-featured man stepped forward.
"This young master is Yisheng, Second Young Master of the Zhuge Clan. The Young Clan Head of the great Zhuge Clan has revealed his identity first, offered compensation, and made an important request — yet your side has a subordinate answering rather than the leader himself. Does this accord with the codes of Jianghu?"
"…Chang Jin, step back."
"Yes, Elder Brother."
The one who came forward to face Zhuge Yisheng as he pressed Wang Zhen was Gongsun Dajing, who had been sitting in silence. Gongsun Dajing stood and cupped his fist toward Zhuge Chaosheng in a martial salute.
"I am Dajing of the Chang family. I apologize for my unfamiliarity with Jianghu etiquette. I've heard you out, but as my younger brother explained, we also have important circumstances. So it would be best if you looked elsewhere. Dongdong, when is the food coming?"
"Yes? Ah! Yes! I was just about to bring it, Young Master!"
"Go on, then."
"Yes, Young Master!"
Dongdong, who had already been sitting on pins and needles, withdrew at once. It was a courtesy on Gongsun Dajing's part, accounting for the chance that the present tension would not resolve well, and meant to keep Dongdong from being caught up if something unexpected broke out.
Having said his piece, Gongsun Dajing sat back down. The bearing unique to a fifth-rank high official was written all over him, and that demeanor thoroughly grated on the Zhuge siblings' nerves.
Zhuge Yisheng's face twisted sharply.
"Ha! The siblings of the great Divine Miracle Zhuge Clan come all the way to Chuzhou only to suffer this humiliation. Changsheng Trading House, was it?"
"What are you trying to say?"
"Unless you're complete newcomers to Jianghu, you wouldn't treat the Divine Miracle Zhuge Clan this way. This Jianghu has its codes and its seniority, after all. If the Young Clan Head has come bowing, you should know to yield…!"
Just as Zhuge Yisheng was launching into Gongsun Dajing—
Tak!
Jin Myeong slammed the teacup he had been spinning in his hand down on the table. He struck it hard enough to shift the entire atmosphere, yet neither the cup nor the tea inside it moved an inch.
Then the mouth of Jin Myeong, who had just displayed that small but remarkable piece of inner-energy control, opened.
"…What? So?"
For a moment Zhuge Yisheng wondered if he had heard correctly. Nameless nobodies he had never heard of, addressing the Young Clan Head and siblings of the Divine Miracle Zhuge Clan with that kind of contempt?
This was something he had never heard of. Never seen.
"You bastards!"
Chara…!
Enraged by the sudden, looking-down speech that had burst from Jin Myeong's mouth, Zhuge Yisheng tried to snap open his iron fan.
At that very instant.
Swoosh!
Jin Myeong, who had been sitting in his seat, appeared right in front of Zhuge Yisheng's nose before anyone could so much as blink.
Grip!
Jin Myeong's true form, materializing like an illusion, seized the iron fan Zhuge Yisheng had been about to open. And Jin Myeong's pupils, locked on Zhuge Yisheng, began to fill with blue and red.
"What were you going to do with that fan? First you try to buy this seat with money, and now you want violence too? Myeong-su. Wenchen."
"By your command!"
Jeong Myeong-su and Jiang Wenchen answered with razor-sharp, drilled precision. In a real fight, Jeong Go, Jong Deok, and Wang Zhen's trio could get hurt. The right match for these people was Gongsun Dajing, Jeong Myeong-su, Jiang Wenchen, Deok Heum, and Gang Su.