Prestige
The Imperial Palace.
“Your Majesty, they report that the men have entered the palace grounds and are making their way here.”
“…I understand.”
The Emperor’s reply sounded composed enough. Yet Gang Sang’s keen eyes did not miss the tension that had settled across the young sovereign’s face.
“Your Majesty…”
Gang Sang studied him carefully before speaking with deliberate caution.
“…There is no need for Your Majesty to meet those old fossils in person.”
Those old fossils.
The former heads of the Sixteen Families were the very ones who had once reduced the Emperor to his present diminished station. Even Gang Sang—who had served twice as Grand Chancellor and weathered every storm the court could throw—found the prospect of facing them again distasteful. How much worse must it be for the young Emperor who, as a boy, had been nothing more than their plaything?
“This humble servant will receive them first, hear what they have to say, and convey every word to Your Majesty—”
“No.”
The Emperor shook his head, expression hard.
“No, Grand Chancellor. That will not do.”
A bead of cold sweat traced a path down the Emperor’s brow.
“I must face my own fear. I cannot remain forever the ‘little emperor’ sheltered behind someone else’s back.”
“……”
He clenched his teeth.
The First Young Master of the Luoyang Sword Family, Yeon So-hyeon, who had long withdrawn from the world, had returned. The Star of Heavenly Slaughter once more hung in the sky. Yeon So-hyeon had looked his fate square in the eye. Though the Emperor had never once met the man in person, he could still sense how deep the resolve—and the suffering—must run for Yeon So-hyeon to carve out his own destiny like this.
I can do the same. No—I will do the same.
Gang Sang watched the Emperor’s fist tighten until the knuckles whitened. Straightening his robes, the old statesman took his place at the Emperor’s side and squared his massive shoulders. The giant frame of the elderly man stood like an impregnable fortress.
“This servant will remain at Your Majesty’s side.”
“…Thank you, Grand Chancellor.”
“They, too, are in the same boat now. Men of their cunning will never be so foolish as to act stiff-necked.”
“…One can only hope.”
“Your Majesty…”
Gang Sang was about to answer when the reedy voice of an aged eunuch carried in from beyond the doors.
“Your Majesty, the fourteen former heads of the Sixteen Families beg an audience.”
The Emperor answered in the most solemn voice he could muster.
“Admit them.”
Luoyang.
The day was dying. Sunset light stretched long through the window and painted the chamber a deep red.
“First Young Master.”
Kong Ryang, seated in his wheeled chair, spoke.
“As you well know, this old man trusts and supports your plans without reservation.”
At Yeon So-hyeon’s request, the elder would have gladly shouldered a load of kindling and leapt into a fire.
“And yet.”
His grip tightened on the armrests of the chair. In his heart he longed to rise at once and race to the capital in a single breath.
“…I cannot help but fear those old fossils will once again make sport of His Majesty the Emperor.”
The thicker the sunset, the deeper the shadows. Without internal qi of his own, Kong Ryang could not clearly make out the expression of Yeon So-hyeon, who sat with the light at his back.
“You need not worry, Elder.”
Even so, Kong Ryang felt certain that Yeon So-hyeon’s shadowed face wore a cold, sparse smile.
“I hold their leashes firmly in my grasp.”
Yeon So-hyeon lifted one hand for the old man to see.
“They will never be able to slip those leashes by their own strength again.”
The hand was bare; only the red light of the setting sun filled it. And yet, in Kong Ryang’s eyes, it seemed as though lines of cord ran from Yeon So-hyeon’s fingers all the way to the distant capital itself.
The Imperial Palace.
Sunset light flooded through the open doors.
“……”
“……”
The young Emperor and the aged Gang Sang could find no words.
“Your Majesty…!”
The old fossils had not even entered the chamber where the Emperor waited. They were on their knees in the small courtyard of the temporary lodging, foreheads pressed to the bare earth.
“Strike us down, Your Majesty!”
The one who cried out as their spokesman was none other than the eunuch who had once served closest to the boy-emperor: Gongsun Na-gang.
“Strike us down!”
The other fourteen old men flung themselves to the dirt and raised their voices in chorus.
“The grave sins we committed against Your Majesty in the past cannot be atoned for even with our lives!”
“Punish us who dared to slight Your Majesty and defile the Imperial House!”
“Punish us!”
They looked for all the world like the most devoted of loyal retainers. Gang Sang hid a bitter smile and gave a small shake of his head.
Just what method did the First Young Master use on these old fossils…?
In the past, the Emperor had been nothing more to them than a symbol of imperial authority—an emblem of the noble bloodline they themselves lacked.
“Strike us down, Your Majesty!”
It was not entirely impossible to guess.
…No doubt the First Young Master dangled the sweetness of power once more before men who had been all but banished to Mount Beimang.
Even so, one thing remained astonishing.
These old fossils are moving as if they share a single body.
They had spent their entire lives tearing at one another’s throats. Some had regarded each other as mortal enemies.
I had braced myself for their mutual checks to grow so fierce the entire plan would collapse…
Yet Yeon So-hyeon had somehow—by what sorcery Gang Sang could not imagine—bound them together like a single pack of hunting hounds.
Just what… has the First Young Master done…?
It was a profound mystery—and a profound shock—to both Gang Sang and the Emperor, who knew nothing of what had once passed between Yeon So-hyeon and these men.
“Your Majesty! We beg you only to—!”
The Emperor raised a hand.
“Enough!”
At that single command the wailing of the old men cut off as if severed by a blade.
“……”
“……”
Not only their voices—every motion froze. They looked like a pack of hounds trained to the absolute limit.
“I understand that you claim to repent of the past.”
Gang Sang cast a grateful glance at the Emperor for the opening, then stepped forward himself.
“But I do not believe for a moment that your repentance runs so deep you would gladly offer up your lives.”
The old men flinched inwardly. The thrust had struck true. They had begun this entire affair precisely so they might return as heads of their families. What use was power if one lost one’s life in the process?
“That is—!”
Gongsun Na-gang, stung, started to raise his voice, but the Emperor cut in.
“I have not granted any of you leave to speak.”
It was neither a forced shout nor a voice that seemed to leak out under the weight of old memories. It was the voice of the Emperor of the Central Kingdom.
“……”
Gongsun Na-gang and the rest closed their mouths at once. Gang Sang was free to continue in the Emperor’s stead.
“Time is not generous to us. Present to His Majesty the intelligence you have brought.”
Yeon So-hyeon had successfully executed his strategy of emptiness and substance. For all the skill with which Gang Sang and the old men had slipped into the palace, word would reach the current heads of the Sixteen Families who effectively ruled the capital soon enough.
“…Your Majesty.”
Gongsun Na-gang pressed his forehead to the earth.
“I beg leave to omit, before Your Majesty, the full ceremonial protocol this old man ought to observe.”
The Emperor nodded at once.
“Granted.”
Gongsun Na-gang wasted no further time.
“What does Your Majesty believe the Imperial House most urgently requires at this moment?”
Luoyang.
Yeon So-hyeon explained the matter to Kang Ho with measured care.
“What the present Imperial House—and His Majesty the Emperor—most desperately need is prestige.”
“Indeed…”
Kang Ho nodded.
“For far too long the power-holders of the Central Kingdom have regarded His Majesty and the Imperial House as mere symbols—puppets and nothing more.”
Therefore the Emperor and the Imperial House required dignity and trust—that is, prestige.
“Then,” Yeon So-hyeon asked in turn, “what must His Majesty obtain if he is to reclaim prestige and gather strength once more?”
Kang Ho answered without hesitation.
“Achievements.”
He remembered every word his grandfather had ever poured into him about capital politics.
“And not merely any achievements. They must be great enough to announce to the entire Central Kingdom that His Majesty is no longer a puppet.”
The Imperial Palace.
Gongsun Na-gang continued.
“Does Your Majesty recall the cherished project of the late Emperor, may he rest in peace?”
“How could I forget it even in my dreams?”
The Emperor answered with a wry smile.
“To expand and regulate the waterways of the Yangtze so that the wealth monopolized by the powers south of the river might be distributed throughout the entire southern region—that was my father’s dearest wish.”
“Yet the difficulties piled high, and in the end the work never truly advanced.”
“Indeed.”
The Emperor nodded slowly.
“First and foremost stood the problem of the Sichuan Tang Family and the Dali Duan Family—each the overlord of its own domain.”
For hundreds of years, perhaps thousands, the two houses had been water and oil. Grudge and hatred. Distrust and enmity. Their long history of conflict had been the first gate that barred the great Yangtze waterway project.
“That problem,” Gongsun Na-gang said, bowing deeply, “has already been resolved under the leadership of the First Young Master of the Luoyang Sword Family.”
“What…?!”
The Emperor was thunderstruck.
“You mean he has not merely brought a plan for how to resolve it—he has already resolved it?!”
Gang Sang, who understood the transactions Yeon So-hyeon had conducted with the two houses, bowed his head.
“Yes, Your Majesty. Precisely so.”
Gongsun Na-gang drew a letter from his robes and offered it up.
“This is the joint agreement of the Sichuan Tang Family and the Dali Duan Family.”
An aged eunuch received the letter and presented it with both hands. The Emperor unfolded it. His hands began to tremble.
“How is such a thing…!”
Even the late Emperor had abandoned hope of untangling that relationship. And now the First Young Master of the Luoyang Sword Family—who until recently had been living in seclusion—had solved it?
Had I not known something of the man’s childhood, I myself would never have believed this so easily…!
Watching the Emperor’s reaction, Gongsun Na-gang smiled and continued.
“Under the First Young Master’s mediation they have entrusted the supervision of the entire project to us.”
“Therefore we beg,” another former family head took up the plea, “that every achievement and every effort we pour into this work may serve to elevate Your Majesty’s name. We beg Your Majesty’s leave!”
“We beg Your Majesty’s leave!”
In short, they asked the Emperor to declare the project open under his own name so that the glory of its success would rest upon him.
“…Without question this will become the foundation upon which I may proclaim to the Central Kingdom that I am its Emperor and thereby establish my prestige.”
“Just so, Your Majesty.”
Gang Sang bowed.
“Though this single achievement cannot restore everything to its proper place—”
The Emperor, unable to hide his excitement, finished the thought himself.
“—it will be the beginning that allows me to call loyal subjects back to my side and enables those faithful to me to form a true power base…!”
“Truly… Your Majesty’s insight is brilliant!”
Gongsun Na-gang made no effort to wipe the delight from his own face. For the old fossils as well, this would be a great stride toward reclaiming their seats as family heads. A matter that benefited the Emperor and themselves alike—gold upon gold.
Magnificent, First Young Master. Truly magnificent!
He had marveled when Yeon So-hyeon first laid out the plan on Mount Beimang. Now that the Emperor himself had been drawn into the scheme and the matter had been presented before the throne, fresh wonder rose in him all over again.
“Wait. But…”
Something occurred to the Emperor; his expression hardened.
“The matter of the Sichuan Tang Family and the Dali Duan Family was only the first difficulty of the project. Surely the second was…”
Gang Sang answered.
“At the time, those who effectively controlled the lower reaches of the Yangtze formed the second great obstacle.”
The Emperor stroked his beard with a grim face and slowly nodded.
“I have heard that those powers have since united into a single alliance and become a new force. Their name was…”
“Sapaecheon.”
The name of the colossal power born when the four great forces that once ruled the southern regions bound themselves together.
“Their name is Sapaecheon.”
Hearing it from Gang Sang, the Emperor’s face grew still darker.
“Even when they were scattered, they pursued only their own profit; the loyalty they showed the Imperial House was the barest minimum.”
And that had been in the late Emperor’s day, when the Imperial House still possessed some measure of strength. Now that imperial prestige had fallen to the ground, there was nothing more to say.
“Now that they have united, I cannot imagine they will meekly cooperate with this project.”
Had Sapaecheon not been dealt a savage blow by Yeon So-hyeon’s father, the Supreme Patriarch of the Sword Family, immediately after their founding, they would by now have become a power of unimaginable scale, built upon their near-monopoly of overseas trade.
“Your Majesty, set your heart at ease.”
Gang Sang smiled.
“Surely not…?”
The Emperor’s eyes widened at that smile. Gang Sang nodded.
“The First Young Master of the Sword Family has already begun the work of resolving that problem as well.”