Songlim Garden in Chuzhou (11)

For one stunned instant, the faces of the Zhuge siblings flushed a burning red. The mottled crimson and purple mottling their skin laid bare every ounce of their dismay and fury at a plan gone utterly awry.

Jin Myeong turned to Deok Heum.

"Deok Heum."

"Yes, Gonggong!"

"What of that one?"

His gaze indicated another corpse. In life, the scholar had sat facing Yu Jin.

"He took an arrow in the back and fell face-forward."

"Confirm it."

The meaning was clear: examine the dead scholar as he had examined Yu Jin, and identify precisely where the Blood Death Arrow had struck.

"Aye."

As Deok Heum answered, Jin Myeong offered him the Jeong-eum Divine Blade.

Ssshhk. Watching the blade drift toward him in a slow, perfectly straight line—drawn by the subtle art of Grasping Objects Through Empty Space—Deok Heum was so moved by his superior's consideration that a flicker of surprise crossed his face.

"Gonggong, how could this humble servant dare take hold of his superior's blade? It would be a great honor—and at the same time, a grave disloyalty."

Deok Heum dropped to his knees and received the Jeong-eum Divine Blade with both hands raised high. A subordinate official could not simply seize a blade bestowed by the Crown Prince himself. Still less with traitors looking on. Precisely in a moment like this, the laws and dignity of the imperial court had to be upheld.

Jin Myeong, reading his subordinate's intent, gave a faint chuckle and recalled the blade.

"This humble one has all he needs."

Deok Heum then raised his hands, backs facing outward, and flexed all ten fingers—a demonstration that his nails would suffice, and his superior's blade was unnecessary.

Riiip—!

Deok Heum flipped the dead scholar over at once and slit the skin where the Blood Death Arrow had punched through. His nails, honed long and keen as willow-leaf arrowheads, gleamed with a blood-red light.

Riiip—!

The sound of flesh splitting beneath those blood-claws sent a shiver through the Zhuge siblings. The back had been opened like a fish's belly, and through the long gash the spine was visible—the right side of the vertebral column blown apart. The dead scholar's spine had shattered; his right lung and ribcage had been pulverized.

"The left side of the spine split, but the right side burst open. With an impact like that, the body would have twisted left as it fell."

Having confirmed the dead scholar's wounds, Jin Myeong nodded as if to say, just as I thought. Then he pointed at the one surviving scholar.

"Look at that one. The man who wasn't hit is still sitting exactly as this official first placed him."

The scholar seated with his back to the shrine's rear wall had not moved or spoken a word—his paralysis and mute points remained sealed.

"Why not simply ask that scholar, Gonggong?"

The one who suddenly cut in was the second son, Zhuge Yisheng. The very man who had sent Yu Jin and one of the scholars to the Yellow ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Springs. He had not merely deflected the incoming Blood Death Arrows—he had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠altered their trajectories so that Yu Jin and the scholar died on the spot.

I have to salvage this somehow. If this continues, the clan...!

His own carelessness, combined with facts he had failed to grasp, had produced this situation. The direction in which Jin Myeong had seated Yu Jin and the scholars. The fact that their paralysis points had been sealed. The sheer power of the Blood Death Arrows. He had to reverse this, somehow.

"There's no need to hear a word from that one."

"Why not? Gonggong, you are branding our clan as traitors based solely on the fact that we were present at Songrimwon, which we knew only as a fellow Confucian academy."

"Yisheng!"

"Enough. Young Clan Head, stay out of this. I am speaking to the Yisheng who is so eager to take his leave of this life. This official and the Changwei came here certain that Yu Jin and Songrimwon were connected to Suchengye. We came suspecting that your Zhuge Clan might be in it with them as well."

"..."

"And if Suchengye, Songrimwon, and the Zhuge Clan are all in league, what would be the point of hearing that man's opinion?"

There was no need to hear the surviving scholar's opinion. Not even a speck of it. He would take the Zhuge Clan's side, as surely as the sun rose.

"Does that answer you? Yisheng, so eager to take your leave of this life?"

"Your words, Gonggong, strike me as rather excessive."

The jade-like voice that spoke this time belonged to Zhuge Suxiang. In wit and intellect, she ranked with Zhuge Chaosheng as the finest of the five siblings.

"Hmm? Outstanding looks, but a handful of a woman, I see. And this official is being excessive?"

Jin Myeong turned to Zhuge Suxiang with an amused smile. For a fleeting instant she flinched, then composed herself and pressed on—a faint flush coloring her face.

"...Our clan is no nest of traitors, and we are one of the Five Great Orthodox Houses. To make a jest of the name of a direct-line second grandson of the Zhuge Clan—is that the etiquette of the imperial court?"

"Oho...!"

An unexpected counter. A gleam of genuine surprise lit Jin Myeong's eyes as he stepped toward her. Zhuge Suxiang found herself instinctively wanting to step back, and only just managed to hold her ground. It was not that she feared him—but why she had reacted that way was rather harder to explain.

"Our clan, too, are subjects of the realm. I would ask whether persecuting and mocking the people is the law of the imperial court."

"I'll have to revise my assessment of you. Outstanding looks and a sharp tongue—but still a handful."

"..."

Zhuge Suxiang, hearing this, began to understand why this eunuch felt so difficult to deal with. It was not his martial arts, so formidable they belied his age, nor a countenance so striking it recalled the legendary beauties of antiquity. She had seen more than enough of the young masters of famous orthodox sects, the sons of high ministers and local magnates, all of them sending matchmakers her way now that she was of marriageable age.

Is it because he's a eunuch?

The reason the young eunuch felt so formidable was his temperament. His temperament. Despite his youth, despite being a castrate with both mental and physical defects—or so the world would have it—he possessed a mad, overflowing confidence and a bluntness that held nothing back. No shadows, no hesitation, nothing to hold him in check. That very temperament. A young eunuch saying, openly, shamelessly, that she was beautiful, beautiful, with complete indifference—and somehow it did not feel unpleasant.

If only he weren't a eunuch... No. If he weren't a eunuch, he wouldn't be this kind of person at all.

The young eunuch was a high-ranking official of the fifth rank, so she could not simply have him disciplined—but even if she could have, she suspected she would not have. Ordinary men either played at dignity, or grovelled with oily flattery, or pretended not to notice her at all. One way or another they strained to hide what was written plainly on their faces. The eunuch before her was different, and so he did not feel nearly so unpleasant. Looking back, the young eunuch had, in every dealing so far, spoken and asked with complete candor—calling people traitors, saying he suspected them, saying she was beautiful. He had never once concealed what he thought or intended.

"...Even if I concede ten times, a hundred times, that we siblings missed those arrows, it was not deliberate. I say it again: our clan are not rebels."

"You're better than this Yisheng who's so eager to leave this life. The brains of the Divine Miracle Zhuge Clan, martial arts that don't match your age, and a stunning beauty on top of it. Unfair. It's unfair. This damned world really is unfair."

Look who's talking.

That was Zhuge Suxiang's thought—and everyone present shared it. Deok Heum and Gang Su, who followed Jin Myeong with devoted loyalty, shrugged as if they couldn't believe their ears.

Is that even a thing to say? What kind of nonsense is that?

That was the look on their faces. The one person in this Songrimwon currently proving the world's unfairness with his entire being was Jang Jinmyeong himself. And he had the gall to say that to someone else. It was absurd.

"Zhuge Suxiang, this official is merely examining the circumstances. Look with your own eyes at the Blood Death Arrows embedded all around us. Of those, the only ones whose trajectories could have killed Yu Jin's party are these two that the Zhuge Clan failed to stop."

Jin Myeong circled the trembling scholar, jerking his chin at those present. Look, if you have eyes.

"If you'd missed more of them, that would be one thing. But you blocked them perfectly the whole time and only missed these two—how do you propose to explain that? And as it happens, our side had two people blocking, yours had three. Were the eunuchs' nails simply that formidable? Is that your story?"

"..."

Even the brilliant Zhuge Suxiang, even Zhuge Chaosheng, found themselves at a loss for words. There was no gap to drive an argument through. All they could do was insist it had been coincidence.

"This official's sense of it is that the eldest and the third were on the roof, so the one who pulled this stunt was this Yisheng so eager to leave this life. Listen. If you were going to use your head, you should have used it better than that."

Grit.

Jin Myeong clapped him on the shoulder, a sneer filling his face, and the furious Zhuge Yisheng ground his teeth.

"Blood Death Arrows are no ordinary shafts. The reverse force loaded into that weight will snap even the femur—the hardest bone in the human body—without the slightest difficulty. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠If you were going to pull something, you should have accounted for that as well."

"Even so, that is not proof that we siblings missed them on purpose."

"Doesn't matter. It's more than enough justification to open an investigation. Wouldn't you agree, Zhuge Chaosheng? This official will escort you and your brothers and sisters to the imperial capital under arrest. Will you resist?"

Having dismissed Zhuge Suxiang's protest, Jin Myeong turned to Zhuge Chaosheng and asked. Tension in the shrine spiked. Gongsun Dajing, Jeong Myeong-su, and Jiang Wenchen gripped their saber hilts; the blood-light on Gang Su and Deok Heum's hands deepened. Ready to clash at a moment's notice. The Zhuge siblings were no different.

"...No."

Zhuge Chaosheng lowered his head, his face a mixture of frustration and resignation.

Elder Brother!

Elder Brother!

Gongsun Dajing, Jeong Myeong-su, Deok Heum, and Gang Su alone would have been more than they could handle—and then there was Jin Myeong. And the Severing Spear Battalion surrounding Songrimwon? To resist would be to die, nothing more. Worse, armed resistance in this situation would amount to an admission of treason, handing their captors yet another justification.

"Where are we being taken?"

"Where else but Yingtianfu? I'll even do you the special favor of escorting you to the Ministry of Justice prison, not the Northern Brocade Guard."

"Mm... Please allow us to send word to our clan."

Avoiding the infamous Northern Brocade Guard of the Jinyiwei, whose name was a byword for terror throughout the Great Ming, was fortune enough. The majority of those imprisoned there came out dead. The only remaining recourse was to appeal to the clan and the Orthodox Martial Alliance for rescue.

"Of course. Did you think I'd just start chopping up the direct descendants of the renowned Zhuge Clan without so much as a notice?"

"Hah... Very well."

Zhuge Chaosheng exhaled in relief—and in that interval ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Jin Myeong continued.

"You'll be locked in the prison for now, and if things go a certain way you might get a bit of torture, but, well."

"Torture?!"

"How dare you! Our clan—!"

Zhuge Suxiang and the youngest, Zhuge Yuhyang, cried out in horror. Torture? How dare he, and to whom?

Jin Myeong, however, looked entirely unconcerned.

"When a man follows eunuchs, he usually comes out dead more often than not. Women, though—that's another matter."

Instead, he strolled toward Zhuge Suxiang and Zhuge Yuhyang with leisurely ease. The two women flinched despite themselves as Jin Myeong approached—a full six feet of height, shoulders broad as a rampart. But they did not step back. Pride would not permit it.

Such was the two women's resolve. What Jin Myeong said and did next, however, was something else entirely.

"We eunuchs, you see, have always had a weakness when it comes to women."

He approached the two women and, with long fingers, smoothed Zhuge Suxiang's disheveled bangs. Then he plucked a fragment of Blood Death Arrow from the youngest Zhuge Yuhyang's face, meeting her eyes as he did.

"Gang Su. Isn't this official right?"

He asked Gang Su with a bright smile, still holding Zhuge Yuhyang's gaze.

"Yes indeed! How could it be otherwise? Martial women are the exception, of course, but if Gonggong decides to do something, who in the world could stop him? Hong-hong!"

Jin Myeong's smile deepened at Gang Su's answer.

And in that instant—

Tut-tut-tuk.

His two hands moved like lightning, striking the paralysis points of Zhuge Suxiang and Zhuge Yuhyang, who were still too flustered by a eunuch's touch—the first they had ever known—to know what to do.

A shudder ran through them. Realizing what had happened, the two women trembled, mouths falling open. In an instant their bodies locked, and they could not get a word out. Only then did the reality of being dragged to the imperial capital truly sink in.

Sister!

Yuhyang!

The Zhuge men, startled, were about to lurch into action when fire and frost bloomed in Jin Myeong's pupils.

The next morning, as the sun was just breaking. North of Yingtianfu, near Mount Lao, just above the Yangtze. Jin Myeong's party, accompanied by the Zhuge siblings and escorted by the Severing Spear Battalion, set out on the road back to the palace. The battalion was a precaution—there was no telling what Suchengye might attempt.

In time, the party passed Mount Lao and reached the banks of the Yangtze, its surface frozen over.

"This is as far as you go. My thanks, Commander Lee."

"Thanks? Thanks to you, we ate our fill last night."

"We're comrades who shed blood together. That's the least I could do. When I return to the palace, I'll make a proper report of the Central Army's merit."

On the far side of the Yangtze lay the Imperial Guard encampment. The Imperial Guard would be waiting across the river, and so it was time for Jin Myeong's party and the Severing Spear Battalion to part ways. Jin Myeong's party and Lee Shin-myeong exchanged a round of farewell courtesies.

"That's all, then. Severing Spear Battalion! We return to camp!"

A short while later, having sent off the Severing Spear Battalion and preparing to cross the river, Jin Myeong's party saw a group come running in a breathless scramble.

"Director Jang!"

It was Sagong Cheonsu of the Jinyiwei Northern Pacification Office, with Bong Gu, First Scout Leader of the Central Military Commission Scout Corps, at the head of his party.

"Lord Sagong."

Recognizing them, Jin Myeong and his party clasped their hands and bowed.

"Director Jang. Y-you've only just arrived?"

Sagong Cheonsu's party, having come running in a frantic hurry, fidgeted and twisted like dogs desperate for a shit. Jin Myeong and his companions knew exactly where that manner came from.

Jin Myeong stepped forward as spokesman.

"Lord Sagong, it would appear our side won the wager."

"Ahem! That... Director Jang, let's speak privately, shall we?"

The attitude of two days ago—arrogance and pride packed into the marrow, informal speech blazing away—had vanished without a trace. He was as polite as a man addressing a superior in all but name.

Jin Myeong's smile deepened as he looked at Sagong Cheonsu.

"Oho! The stakes of the wager were dismissal from office, were they not? Dismissal... dismissal, you say...!"