Songrimwon of Chuzhou (10)

Ssshhk—!

A savage roar tore the night, and a thousand spears caught the moonlight and shot forward in a single, unbending line.

Thud-thud-thud-THUNK! CRACK-CRUNCH-CRUNCH!

Spears punched through the archers' bodies. Pale, blue-tinged blades twisted a half-turn inside living flesh, grinding sinew and bone to pulp — and that sound erupted from every corner of Songrimwon at once.

Then—

Shhhk-RRRIP!

As if by prior agreement, every spear that had transfixed an archer was wrenched free in the same instant. From the holes they left behind, blood poured like a waterfall.

The elite soldiers who drew their spears back in that single, unified motion belonged to the Severing Spear Battalion of the Regional Military Commission.

Ghosts of the spear.

A special-operations unit of more than a thousand first-rate soldiers and above, drawn from the forces of a Regional Military Commission that governed an entire province. Fist, kick, saber, and sword might belong to the Jianghu — but the spear had always belonged to the army.

Thud.

In that same instant came the sound of lifeless bodies collapsing onto the freezing midwinter ground. Blood ran in long, glistening threads down the blood-grooves of spearheads pulled free of the archers' bodies.

Corpses lay tangled inside the academy and sprawled beyond its walls. Among them were no small number of the main force's own elite — but the archers' dead outnumbered them overwhelmingly.

A dry, knife-edged wind of midwinter carried the cloying smell of blood. The people of Qingliu County caught that dense reek on the breeze and retched despite themselves. They clapped their hands over their ears and shuddered at the clash of steel on steel, at the sound of metal shattering bone and tearing flesh, at the boiling shouts and the desperate screams.

War. This was the true face of war.

Whoosh! Snap-snap!

The soldiers who had finished the killing flicked the blood from their spears in a single coordinated motion, then rested the shafts diagonally behind their waists. That gesture was the signal. Not a single archer remained alive and moving.

And then Yue Jun, Regional Military Commissioner of Southern Zhili — commander of every garrison in the province save the Emperor's own personal troops — walked toward the ancestral shrine.

The middle-aged general, born of the Shandong Yue Clan, had a frame that looked carved from hardwood, and eyes as fierce as a tiger's. For all that he held the Senior Second Rank, he wore none of the ornate armor his station entitled him to — only the standard-issue red studded armor of a mid-ranking officer. That, too, told you the measure of the man.

The soldiers' salute rang out wherever Yue Jun passed. The men of the Severing Spear Battalion, drawn up in two long files all the way to the shrine, opened a path for him.

Snap!

They cleared the corpses aside, drove their spear-butts into the earth, and opened the way. At the end of that path, Jin Myeong, the Eastern Depot guards, and the Zhuge siblings stood gathered together.

Yue Jun halted five or six paces in front of them. A young officer who looked to be his adjutant flicked a glance at Jin Myeong and whispered in his commander's ear, identifying which of the men before them was the one that mattered.

"So you are Jang Jinmyeong, Count of Shuntian. Qianhu Gongsun — it's been a while. Yeongban now, is it?"

Having heard the whisper, Yue Jun recognized both Jin Myeong and Gongsun Dajing at once.

"Your Excellency!"

Snap!

Jin Myeong, Gongsun Dajing, and everyone with them bowed at the waist and clasped their hands in salute. It was Jin Myeong who stepped forward a pace.

"Thanks to Your Excellency and the main force, we can finally breathe. You have this humble servant's gratitude."

"The Left Commander-in-Chief was most particular. Said the main force had better not make a mess of things. So I came at a run."

Yue Jun's eyes traveled over Jin Myeong from head to heel, taking his measure. He had heard a great deal before the army even marched.

"Your timing was nothing short of perfect, Your Excellency."

"I wanted to meet you. I was curious, you see — what manner of man could possibly warrant that kind of word from the Duke of Yingguo himself."

"This humble servant is nothing but a eunuch."

"Is that so? I don't know you. The Duke of Yingguo does. His greatest art isn't the Four-Day Sword — it's the art of employing men. An eye for people, that's what I mean."

"The Left Commander-in-Chief has simply been too generous in his estimation of Eunuch Zhang and this humble servant."

"A count's title at twenty years of age. Senior Fifth Rank. The realm's foremost palace minister. Martial Master to His Highness the Imperial Grandson. The power of life and death over the Emperor's own blades and over the people besides. Since the founding of the Great Ming, no one so young has ever held that much power."

Yue Jun was not wrong. The officials of the Great Ming might not know Jin Myeong's face, but the most striking particulars of his record had already spread far and wide — because the protagonist of this unprecedented history was neither a civil nor a military official, but a eunuch. And one who had barely come of age, at that.

"Your Excellency's praise only makes this eunuch squirm."

"And Yeongban Gongsun's martial art is the Nine Dragons Grand Luo Blade Method — that much I know well. Which means that thunderclap a moment ago was yours, was it not? I had no idea the Sunflower Manual contained such a capability. Remarkable. At the very least, Initial Peak Realm. Perhaps even Intermediate Peak Realm, same as myself."

Yue Jun was a middle-aged master gazing toward the Peak Realm - Late Stage — at least half a move, perhaps a full move, above Gongsun Dajing, who sat in a mature Intermediate Peak Realm. There was no chance he had failed to register the force of the Heaven-Extreme Palm Jin Myeong had unleashed to save Zhuge Suxiang. And he was not alone. Everyone gathered at Songrimwon shared the same burning curiosity — Zhuge Chaosheng and Zhuge Suxiang most of all, for they had seen with their own eyes that the source of that thunder had been a palm. Martial arts that could pour out thunder were not unheard of. They were not common, either.

"I merely resorted to an unorthodox trick. Fortune was with me."

"An unorthodox trick, you say? Now I'm curious what kind. I have never seen a eunuch director wield a capability like that. Curious enough that I'd like to test hands with you myself."

Yue Jun studied Jin Myeong with eyes full of genuine interest. Among the famed generals of the early Ming, there was not a man who was not a warmonger. The Grand Progenitor Zhu Yuanzhang had driven out the Yuan and founded the dynasty; the Yongle Emperor had crossed the Gobi and marched north. A general without a taste for war had no place in the Ming army to begin with.

"Given the present circumstances, perhaps Your Excellency might visit the imperial capital at a later date. This humble servant will repay today's kindness with interest."

"Kindness? You performed the duty assigned to you. This official and the main force performed ours. When we are carrying out an imperial command, what is there to tally as kindness between us? A bout, someday, will be quite enough."

Yue Jun had taken note of Jin Myeong's record, certainly — but what had truly caught his attention, and won his respect, was the fact that the young eunuch possessed such formidable martial learning. Civil officials ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and military officers alike tended to look on eunuchs with distaste; that prejudice ran deep. Jin Myeong was not a man who fit neatly into it. Anyone who knew a record like his and still chose to slight him would have to be a fool of the first order.

"As you say. I shall report it to the Directorate of Ceremonial at once and have meat and wine sent to the Regional Military Commissioner's Office by noon tomorrow."

"Hahaha! Not like those stuffy civil officials at all! You know a thing or two! I'll leave the Severing Spear Battalion here. We'll meet again, Count of Shuntian."

Yue Jun threw his head back and laughed, thoroughly delighted by the young eunuch's consideration. What did soldiers need most after losing comrades and soaking themselves in blood? Wine, meat, and a hot night. That a young eunuch understood the army's nature so well — that he knew precisely what ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to give, and when — was proof enough he was no ordinary man.

"Yes, Regional Military Commissioner. Until we meet again. The Severing Spear Battalion will eat their fill here tonight. This humble servant will see to it."

"You'll host the Battalion? There are a thousand of them. Does the Eastern Depot's expense coffer run that deep? It'll cost several dozen taels of silver, at the least."

"His Majesty has bestowed wealth upon this humble servant over the years, and I have had nowhere useful to spend it. It seems I have found a use for it tonight."

"Hahahahaha! Now I see it — a hero of the realm, that's what you are! Now I understand why they call you the foremost palace minister under heaven! Your generosity is unmatched! A man with that kind of spirit must drink well too, eh?"

"I may not know about martial arts, but I have never lost at wine."

"Hahahaha! Good! Good! Were the situation otherwise, I'd unbuckle my belt and we'd talk until dawn with our hearts wide open! Do as you see fit, Count of Shuntian!"

Jin Myeong's character kept slipping the bounds of expectation and common sense, and Yue Jun, thoroughly won over, looked genuinely pleased — as if he had found a kindred spirit he could meet without ceremony, and speak to without a mask.

The main force's elite soldiers stared, dumbfounded. Their commander was famous for his severity. Not one of them had ever seen him look this satisfied.

Having laughed himself empty, Yue Jun recovered his gravitas and turned to one side.

"Lee Shin-myeong, Thousand-Household Commander of the Severing Spears — receive your orders!"

"Loyalty!"

Lee Shin-myeong, Senior Fifth Rank Thousand-Household Commander of the Severing Spear Battalion, dropped to one knee at once and clasped his hands.

"Lee Shin-myeong, Thousand-Household Commander of the Severing Spears, receives the Regional Military Commissioner's command."

A short while later.

With the Severing Spear Battalion ringing Songrimwon inside and out, Jin Myeong and the others gathered in the ancestral shrine. Jin Myeong and the Eastern ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Depot guards on one side, the five Zhuge siblings on the other — the air between them had the taut, unspoken quality of two lines drawn up for a fight.

"This humble one begs your pardon, Gonggong!"

The ones on their knees, begging forgiveness, were Gang Su and Deok Heum. While those two had been running their mouths, Yu Jin and one of the scholars had died. And the dead Yu Jin had been carrying the secrets of the Suchengye and the Blood Death Archery Corps.

Watching that scene with idle eyes, two people were exchanging sound transmissions: Zhuge Chaosheng, young clan head of the Zhuge Family, and his second brother, Zhuge Yisheng.

The moment Gang Su and Deok Heum had started their idle talk, Zhuge Yisheng had glanced at Gongsun Dajing and the others, then put his plan into motion. Among the iron arrows flying in, he had struck a few as if to deflect them — and in doing so, bent their trajectories. Twist too many and suspicion would be all but certain, so he had chosen two. The result: Yu Jin and one scholar, silenced.

As far as Zhuge Chaosheng and his siblings were concerned, it had been a perfect murder. No witnesses. No loose ends.

"This is a disaster! A traitor the Gonggong captured at such cost, dead so meaninglessly! Yisheng! Did we siblings let this happen?"

"E-Elder Brother! How could we have? If we had, the Gonggong would suspect our house of treason. We threw everything we had into stopping those arrows. Please believe us, Gonggong!"

Zhuge Chaosheng put on a scolding he had clearly rehearsed, and Zhuge Yisheng matched him tooth for tooth, then turned to Jin Myeong with a plea. Men who had prospered by their wits, indeed. The performance was flawless.

"Gonggong. We are told that the only person who made contact with Yu Jin immediately after the incident was Gong Deok."

Zhuge Chaosheng, chin in hand as if deep in troubled thought, was herding Jin Myeong's reasoning in a single direction. A false carefulness underlaid his voice. A moment ago, everyone present had heard Deok Heum and Gang Su's report: after Yu Jin was struck, the only one who had attempted first aid was Deok Heum. Therefore the only one who had touched Yu Jin was Deok Heum.

"And so?"

"He says Yu Jin was sitting like this at the time, so — regrettable as it is — I fear the arrow must have come from the front, must it not…?"

Zhuge Chaosheng let the sentence trail off, his gaze sliding toward Gongsun Dajing, Jeong Myeong-su, and Jiang Wenchen, who had been defending the front of the shrine. You failed to stop it, and this is the result. That was the meaning.

Gongsun Dajing, Jeong Myeong-su, and Jiang Wenchen met his eyes with expressions of perfect indifference. According to Deok Heum's actual report, when they had found Yu Jin with a Blood Death Arrow through the center of his belly, Yu Jin had been facing forward. Gang Su, Deok Heum, Zhuge Yisheng, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and the two younger siblings had been on Yu Jin's and the scholars' left and right flanks. Circumstantially, it looked for all the world as if Gongsun Dajing, Jeong Myeong-su, and Jiang Wenchen had let a Blood Death Arrow through.

"I see. So this side missed it."

Jin Myeong lifted the index finger of the hand that had been cupping his chin and scratched one cheek. His tone, at least, seemed to concede Zhuge Chaosheng's point. Color rose in the hearts of Zhuge Chaosheng and his siblings. They had crossed the ridge. Not only would they walk out of this deathtrap of a Songrimwon — with Yu Jin dead, the fact that the Zhuge Family had been connected to the Suchengye would vanish into fog.

"It is truly regrettable. You had intended to uncover the identities of the traitor and his faction and tear them out by the root. That we siblings could be of no help is a shame we can hardly bear."

Zhuge Chaosheng, his heart full of triumph, drove the wedge home. And yet—

Heh.

The problem was that Jin Myeong and the Eastern Depot guards, who by all rights should have been boiling with rage, looked instead perfectly at ease. Worse: little by little, smiles were stealing across their faces.

"Regret? If anyone should regret, it's me."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I beg your pardon?"

Jin Myeong gave a dry, amused snort and said something none of them could parse. Zhuge Chaosheng and his siblings stared, bewildered.

"Deok Heum. Gang Su. Well done."

"Our thanks, Gonggong! Gong Gang and this humble one did nothing at all. What did we even do? Gonggong did all the work. Ohohoho!"

"Hohoho! Gong Deok and this humble one just scratched an itch in our mouths for a moment, that's all."

Only a short while ago, Deok Heum and Gang Su had been trembling at the thought of punishment. That look was gone without a trace. They were grinning from ear to ear. Jin Myeong, for his part, wore that expression of his — the one where the mouth smiled and the eyes did not.

"Listen here, Zhuge Family. That chatter from Gang Su and Deok Heum? I ordered it."

The Zhuge siblings froze.

"Don't look so shocked. This side had to leave you a gap, or you snakes would never show your true colors. If you truly had no connection to Songrimwon, you would have done as Zhuge Yisheng claimed — thrown your lives on the line to protect Yu Jin and the scholars. If you were connected, you would do exactly what you just did. Kill them."

"Gonggong! What are you saying?"

In a single instant, a cold shudder ran down the spines of Zhuge Chaosheng and his siblings. He had left a gap on purpose? Then — had he been hunting them? Had he laid a trap?

"You lot with snakes coiled in your skulls. You said Yu Jin was sitting facing the front?"

"That is what Gong Deok himself said only a moment ago—!"

"Garbage. I broke their legs myself and sat them down. Yu Jin was facing that way."

Jin Myeong pointed toward the direction the Zhuge siblings had been defending. Before climbing onto the roof, he had seated Yu Jin and the two scholars in a circle, facing one another. One with his back to the shrine's rear wall. Yu Jin beside him, looking toward the sector Zhuge Yisheng and the siblings were covering. The one who had died with Yu Jin, seated opposite, looking toward Gang Su and Deok Heum. Facing each other — so they could imagine, and feel, the terror that was coming for them.

"By your own account, not a soul laid a hand on Yu Jin. His paralysis points were sealed. So tell me — how did Yu Jin, and that dead scholar with his shattered legs, turn themselves around?"

A killing frost bled into the air. Jin Myeong, wrath beginning to pour off him, suddenly drew the Jeong-eum Divine Blade from his waist.

The Zhuge siblings flinched hard, bodies jerking with shock. Jin Myeong pinned them with his eyes, walked straight to Yu Jin, and sat. Sitting, he took the drawn blade and split Yu Jin's belly down the center.

RRRIP!

Yu Jin's abdomen, already drained of every drop of blood, fell open with a wet, heavy sound. Jin Myeong raked aside the internal organs, pointed at the spine the axe-head broadhead had severed, and poured out his fury once more.

The Zhuge siblings could not move. Could not speak. Could not even breathe.