Consoling the Spirits

Yongbongjihoe Arena Construction Site.

The Third Young Master's command had been the first to complete their withdrawal.

Yet some remained anyway, deliberately staying clear of others' eyes.

"First Young Master."

They were the clingy sort attached to Yeon So-hyeon.

"First Young Master. Should you have any interest in security cooperation that our Great Tiger Gate might provide—"

"I have no interest."

Yeon So-hyeon cut him off flat.

"Tch."

The master of a middling sect with a foot in the Third Young Master's camp muttered to himself as he turned away.

"Let's see how well he manages alone without a proper force behind him."

The distance was great and his voice low enough that anyone without internal energy would never have caught it—but for Yeon So-hyeon as he was now, it carried more than clearly enough.

"You there."

"…Yes?"

The Great Tiger Gate's master, already some way off, flinched and looked back. Come to think of it, the First Young Master has learned martial arts— His thought ended there.

Crack.

His head snapped back without mercy.

It was the Hundred-Pace Divine Fist.

The power had been carefully moderated, yet it was still far more than the likes of the Great Tiger Gate's master could endure.

"……!"

With his jaw wrenched aside, the Great Tiger Gate's master fainted and toppled straight into the muck.

The wet slap of his face planting into the mud was rather satisfying.

"Sect Master?!"

At that Shaolin ultimate technique, launched without the faintest warning, his disciples were thrown into utter panic.

"The Sect Master has collapsed!"

Chuckling under his breath, Yeon So-hyeon quietly slipped away from the spot and moved on.

"A physician! Find a physician!"

Even if they had different mothers, even if they had never grown up eating from the same pot—were siblings still siblings, after all?

At nearly the same hour, back at the Luoyang Sword Family, the fact that his younger sisters had beaten a man senseless was something even Yeon So-hyeon could not possibly know.

But that was neither here nor there.

"Grab that side!"

"It's tipping! Careful!"

Yeon So-hyeon's steps halted.

The Third Young Master's forces were in the thick of dismantling their encampment.

In the end, regardless of the blood they and their comrades had shed, victory had gone to First Young Master Yeon So-hyeon—yet the soldiers' faces held a strangely bright edge.

"Hurry, hurry! Make it quick!"

Even as they splashed through the mud of the rain-soaked ground, their movements looked light in Yeon So-hyeon's eyes.

"Let's get back and eat a proper meal for once!"

"I'm sick of eating off the dirt floor!"

Yes.

Whoever claimed the political victory, whoever ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠high above had reaped the gains—it had nothing to do with them.

"I can finally see my wife's and mother's faces again!"

Their own survival. The enemies who had sought their comrades' lives. Once the peril hanging before their eyes was gone, they seemed like different people entirely.

"Casualty evacuation is complete!"

The explosions that had shaken their eardrums. The acrid reek of smoke spreading through the downpour. As if they meant to bury in this encampment every memory of that dawn when blood had rained and all had trembled in terror—

"Now, let's go home!"

At someone's shout, smiles spread across the soldiers' faces. One after another, without anyone leading, they took up the cry.

"Yes! Whoever you are, well said!"

"Let's go home!"

"Homeward!"

They burst into free, boisterous laughter and chatter.

Yeon So-hyeon, who had first cupped his hands and called for them to return, watched them with a smile, then turned his gaze into the distance.

"……."

From the encampment, the Yongbongjihoe Arena Construction Site spread out below.

Under a clear sky. Under the warm sunlight, plumes of cooking smoke rose here and there. Roofs and streets, still holding moisture, glittered dazzlingly in the sun. People hurried to and fro, small in the distance.

Though it had been on the verge of completion, that landscape which had looked like ruins now seemed more beautiful than any vista of the site after its grand completion.

"……."

As Yeon So-hyeon gazed at that scene as if dazzled, a voice came from behind him.

"Master."

His chief maid, Jeong-a, approached.

"They say preparations below are complete."

Yeon So-hyeon's first sight upon setting foot on the arena construction site was a long line of people.

"Might I ask you something?"

He approached the person at the very end of the line.

"Yes, milord. If it's something I know, I'll answer as best I can."

A ragged poor laborer bowed deeply. He had not recognized that this was First Young Master Yeon So-hyeon, but reacted to the black silk outer robe and the fairy-like beauty accompanying him.

"What is this line for? Are they distributing meals?"

"No, milord. There are more places handing out meals now, so no one waits long for that. All thanks to the First Young Master of the Luoyang Sword Family!"

"The First Young Master's grace?"

"Yes, that's right!"

The poor laborer answered with a bright face.

"Not only did the First Young Master of the Sword Family save us, he sent many people from the House of Benevolence to help us. Thanks to that, we haven't just been eating plain rice—we've had side dishes and soup too!"

His explanation was lively and endless. He seemed to take joy in speaking of Yeon So-hyeon.

"And this line is…"

He pointed to those waiting in line.

"The House of Benevolence is giving us clothing and daily necessities free of charge! That's why everyone's lined up like this!"

"And no one taking free goods to sell them for a kickback?"

"Oh no, none at all!"

The laborer nodded vigorously.

"Everyone knows that anyone who dared do such a thing would be struck by Heaven's punishment. This isn't a secret, but…"

He glanced left and right and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lowered his voice.

"Two days ago, when the great rain fell. No one doesn't know the story of blood raining from the sky and the Luoyang Sword Family's martial artists dying in droves."

Meaning that those who knew of that day's events would not dare try anything foolish.

"First Young Master! So this is where you were!"

At the cry of the House of Benevolence's site supervisor who had spotted Yeon So-hyeon, every gaze in the crowd turned to him as one.

"Th-the First Young Master…?!"

The poor laborer who had just been spinning stories to Yeon So-hyeon gaped with wide eyes, mouth working soundlessly.

"Thank you. I heard your story well."

Yeon So-hyeon patted his shoulder and approached the House of Benevolence personnel.

"We greet the First Young Master, leader of the House of Benevolence!"

The faces of those from the House of Benevolence were bright as well.

"Good. The distribution of supplies is going well, I see."

Yeon So-hyeon went straight to the point.

"These are all people who have endured hardship. There must be no shortfall in the aid we give them."

"Yes, please don't worry. We're bringing in everything we had stockpiled at the main hall first, so until the newly ordered supplies arrive, there will be no problem!"

"Well handled."

Yeon So-hyeon nodded.

"The Sword Family will place no obstacles in the way of anything related to this place—rather, we will spare no cooperation."

At his words they all assented, yet there was something they were carefully gauging.

"What is it?"

At Yeon So-hyeon's prompt, the site supervisor asked carefully.

"There are so many people here, and so many supplies needed. Everything else is fine, but the funds…"

"Funds?"

At that, Yeon So-hyeon smiled.

"Don't worry. Until construction on this site is finished, the Sword Family will bear every expense."

He switched to sound transmission and spoke to the site supervisor.

So give everything out without stinting, and send the bills to the Sword Family's Business Support Division.

Yeon So-hyeon winked and continued the transmission.

The completion of this place is a major affair of the Sword Family. And the Sword Family has so much money—too much—that even if you bill the costs a "little" excessively, no one will mind.

Beyond the costs of supplies currently coming from the main hall and those already ordered—he meant they should cleverly pad in the costs of whatever supplies were needed from here and there around Luoyang as well.

I needn't say more—you understand?

Grasping Yeon So-hyeon's meaning, the site supervisor gave a meaningful smile and nodded.

"Yes, it shall be as you command. I'll convey the same to the main hall."

As expected of someone from the House of Benevolence who had weathered every trial in this field, his instincts were sharp.

"Good. Then—"

"First Young Master!"

Just as he was expressing satisfaction and about to move on, a voice called from behind him.

When Yeon So-hyeon turned, he saw the poor laborer he had spoken with bowing deeply toward him.

"Thank you! Thank you!"

Those in line. Those who had already received goods. Those who had been craning their necks to see what was happening. Everyone around bowed to Yeon So-hyeon.

"Thank you!"

"Thank you, First Young Master!"

The bows spread like a wave. Their thanks filled the street.

At that sight, Yeon So-hyeon felt a sting at the tip of his nose, and for a moment seemed at a loss for words.

"……."

It was a moment when even Yeon So-hyeon—who always had something to say even before the Jeam Jincheon Scripture—found himself speechless.

Jeong-a, who possessed the Dragon Eyes, noticed the brief glitter at the corners of his eyes. But she gave no sign, simply keeping her place at his back.

"Everyone…"

Yeon So-hyeon cleared his briefly locked throat and spoke again.

"Everyone, you have endured much hardship. But not all is finished. Until every investigation is complete, you will remain confined here and must see this street through to completion."

One by one they lifted their heads from their prostrate posture ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and listened intently to Yeon So-hyeon's words.

"Moreover, even once this street is finished, you will live out your lives in labor under me. That will by no means be easy."

"That's fine with us!"

At that, the poor laborer who had spoken with Yeon So-hyeon cried out in a loud voice.

"We'll gladly offer this one life to follow the First Young Master!"

When he shouted, everyone pressed their heads to the ground and began to cry out.

"We'll follow!"

"We'll offer ourselves!"

They were ragged, unimpressively thin, uneducated, and knew nothing of martial arts whatsoever—and yet for some reason, in Yeon So-hyeon's eyes their cries looked as weighty as any martial artist's oath.

And as if to confirm his thought—

All of them… are sincere…

Jeong-a read their hearts and conveyed it by sound transmission.

"…Thank you, all of you."

Yeon So-hyeon brought both hands together and offered a formal, respectful bow toward the poor laborers. The heart in that greeting was by no means light.

"Truly, thank you."

To bestow goodwill was not so difficult from his position. But for the recipients to recognize and accept it as pure goodwill—how hard was that?

Yeon So-hyeon's salvation had come suddenly, and it had not even been something they had requested. Unlike the leadership of the poor laborers, these people had not even received a proper explanation. They would not know the full circumstances before and after.

"…I am truly grateful."

As one who well knew that the weak can be all the more base, and the poor all the more greedy, Yeon So-hyeon felt this moment like a miracle.

Drums rolled.

The priestesses of the House of Benevolence danced, swaying in time with that heavy drumbeat. Young priestesses and those who knew the melodies sang songs to soothe the spirits.

It was a Memorial Rite for the Dead.

Nearly a thousand poor laborers had gathered in the great plaza, and they bowed their heads in silent prayer. The agents belonging to the Spring of Luoyang were all among them as well, and the leaders of the poor were mixed in with them.

The corpses that had been piled together in the pit had all been recovered over the past day. Smoke from the cremation of those hundreds of bodies hung thick, but it was not the smoke alone that made the gathered crowd's eyes sting.

"Oh, my boy…!"

"Go on ahead, my friend! I'll see you later!"

The offering table prepared for the memorial rite was lavish.

"Eat your fill over there!"

"Starve no more!"

Even more heaped than the illusions the Jeam Jincheon Scripture had shown, mounds of rice and rare dishes they had never tasted in life were set upon the altar.

"The brush."

"Here it is."

Before everyone's eyes, Yeon So-hyeon received a great brush from Jeong-a. He had ground the ink with time and care himself, loaded the brush thickly, and stood before the great boulder with its face exposed.

It was the Memorial Stele prepared before the main arena.

His fingertips moved as if dancing. The brush tip's motion, resembling the priestesses' dance, swayed as if soothing the souls of the dead. Dragon-and-snake soaring script, completed in a single flourish. Even those who could not read held their breath and watched that brushwork.

The words inscribed on that memorial stele would be read by countless visitors in years to come. Of the things that had happened here. That so many people had given their lives in this place. They too would come to know. That preciousness. That beauty.

The sound of hammer and chisel carving Yeon So-hyeon's characters in intaglio rang high into the sky.

The ornamental cherry trees that had stubbornly bloomed even through the torrential rain flung their petals without reserve.

This place was but a tiny fragment of the vast city of Luoyang—and though, measured against the hardships of life, it might be only a fleeting moment—clearly, spring had come here.