Farewell, Until We Meet Again
Several carts laden with sacks of rice rolled down the main thoroughfare of Gaegyeong. Banners embroidered with the character Wang—the mark of the Wang Clan—snapped and billowed atop them, flaunting their grandeur.
Clatter. Clatter.
The moment the carts came to a halt in an open lot, the warriors driving them dismounted in unison. From among them strode a figure who looked to stand well over seven feet tall, and he bellowed, "Come on, then! Form a line! A line, I say!"
"What is all this?"
"His Majesty has commanded our Wang Clan to relieve the people's suffering! So if you want rice, get in line!"
"His Majesty...?"
Hearing those words, the people hesitated, but slowly began to form a line. They were farmers conscripted for the construction works — farmers who had missed the planting season entirely.
"Here! Take it!"
"I... I don't know what to say..."
"Does this mean His Majesty truly never abandoned us?"
As the warriors of the Azure Dragon Pavilion handed out rice sack after sack, even those who had still been only half-convinced began lining up.
"Not a small bundle — a whole sack, each?"
"Would a mere bundle feed a people? Take it, and consider it His Majesty's grace."
At those words the crowd pressed forward all the more eagerly, and a long line snaked down the once-quiet street. Word spread fast — people who had come out to gawk at the commotion, once they heard what was happening, joined the back of the line until there was barely room left to stand.
Then one farmer watching it all turned scarlet in the face and shouted, "What is the matter with all of you!"
Every head turned, and the crowd stared at him as though he'd lost his mind. The farmer paid the stares no mind whatsoever and kept shouting. "How can you receive His Majesty's rice and not cheer him even once! Come on, everyone, follow my lead! Long live His Majesty!"
When the farmer threw his arms up in a cheer, the people, little by little, began to follow.
"Long... long live His Majesty!"
"Manse! Manse! Manse!"
Some, it seemed, were suddenly reminded of all their hardships in years past; the emotion surged up in them, and more than a few broke down weeping. Watching over it all, the warriors of the Azure Dragon Pavilion smiled.
"Posters going up nicely?"
The one asking was the towering figure draped carelessly in Azure Dragon robes — Han Taesang, Master of the Azure Dragon Pavilion. His tone was far more flippant than it had been a moment ago, yet not a single warrior so much as frowned. This was, after all, his usual manner of speaking.
"Yes, sir! We've put them up on every wall in sight, so more people will keep coming."
"Good, good. Khekhek. Now I'm curious what old man Choe Chunghon's going to do about it. Maybe I'll sneak into the palace later and take a peek?"
"Pavilion Master! You'll ruin the whole operation doing that!"
"I know, I know! It was a joke. Jumpy lot, aren't you."
And yet he kept snickering to himself in a way that made his subordinates profoundly uneasy.
"Ahh, I just hope this means a little less work for us~ Ever since we started brawling with Grandpa Choe over the deposition business, I haven't had a moment to laze around."
"You're telling me. I can't even remember how many days it's been since I've been home..."
"Hard to believe the Young Lord could devise such a brilliant scheme."
Giving silent thanks to Mujin, Han Taesang headed toward the rice-distribution point. First he had to wrap up this business — then, and only then, could he slack off to his heart's content.
***
Gaegyeong. Yeon-gyeong Palace.
"Hmm. Bring me the next matter."
"Here it is, Your Majesty."
As on any other day, Wang Yeong sat upon the throne attending to the affairs of state. But today, one thing was different. The ministers were silent.
Ordinarily, whenever Wang Yeong himself said anything about the matters before him, the ministers would cut him down with their refrain — 'That cannot be, Your Majesty.''We beg you to reconsider.''We are undeserving of Your Majesty's trust.'
But not today. Wang Yeong could push his own opinions through without a single word of protest. Choe Chunghon hadn't even opened his mouth.
It was strange enough to warrant suspicion, yet Wang Yeong felt none — as though he had known all along that things would come to this.
At that moment, Choe Chunghon stepped forward and spoke. "Your Majesty. Might this humble servant be permitted a word?"
"We are attending to matters of state. It can wait."
"......"
A thrill shot through Wang Yeong. Who could have imagined the day would come when he would say such a thing to the great Choe Chunghon himself? A month ago he had trembled in dread, never knowing when he might be deposed — and now, in one stroke, the tables had turned.
And Choe Chunghon felt as though his very insides were twisting.
'This man, who once couldn't manage so much as a word of reply...'
Oblivious or indifferent to that turmoil, Wang Yeong simply continued with the affairs of state. Choe Chunghon, rebuffed after daring to request casual conversation, took another step forward.
"Your Majesty. It concerns those very matters of state. Grant me this one audience."
"Is what I am doing now not matters of state? You may speak with me later."
Twice rebuffed, Choe Chunghon shot a sidelong glance at Yi Munseong. The man flinched in alarm and hurried forward.
"Your Majesty. Might this lowly director, Yi, dare to speak?"
When Yi Munseong debased himself to the level of a commoner, Wang Yeong set down the scroll in his hands. "...What is it."
"We beg you to hear the words of the Supreme Dictator, Your Majesty."
"We beg you to hear him, Your Majesty."
As Yi Munseong spoke, the surrounding ministers cried out as one. Pressed like this, refusal was all but impossible. Clicking his tongue inwardly, Wang Yeong finally relented.
"If you all insist so, I shall hear him out. Speak, Supreme Dictator."
"I am grateful, Your Majesty."
Choe Chunghon raised his bowed head. And as his face lifted, little by little, toward Wang Yeong — Wang Yeong very nearly shrieked and bolted from the throne.
'What...!'
Choe Chunghon's face was hideously contorted. Wrinkles warring with a grotesquely twisted expression, it was a countenance one might sooner compare to a vengeful demon than to a man.
"I am told that of late, upon royal command, the Wang Clan has been opening its granaries to the people. What is the meaning of this?"
Wang Yeong straightened his posture at once. A cold instinct told him that if he mishandled his answer here, everything he had endured until now would come to nothing.
"Have we not conscripted the people for these punishing construction works of late? I have heard that because of it, many missed the farming season and now go hungry. So I asked the Wang Clan for their aid."
Choe Chunghon's eyebrows twitched.
'He isn't even bothering to hide it?'
A king who was supposed to have no ties to the Wang Clan had openly named the connection to their faces. It amounted to nothing less than a declaration that he intended to confront them head-on.
"You did so without even consulting us?"
"What consultation does relieving the people require? Did I not already propose opening the royal granaries for this very thing — only for the Supreme Dictator to tell me they stood empty, and it could not be done?"
"......"
"So I conveyed my will to the Wang Clan instead. Understand it so, and take your leave. We shall end here for today."
At those words, Choe Chunghon kicked back from his place and strode out. The ministers, who had been shuffling nervously all the while, scrambled after him. Watching them go, Wang Yeong let the tension drain from his body and sank back against the throne.
"You did wonderfully, Your Majesty."
"Did I..."
Even at Shin Arin's praise, Wang Yeong only gazed around the empty hall.
One month earlier.
"Your Majesty! Word has come from the clan!"
Shin Arin came running, letter in hand. It was a somewhat undignified display, but Wang Yeong did not rebuke her.
"There is nothing left we can do, after all... So you have been diligent."
Wang Yeong had already resigned himself. He had brought the Wang Clan into his schemes at the cost of staking his very throne, yet it had proven woefully insufficient to stop his deposition.
Tomorrow, perhaps. No — he might be stripped of his crown within days, within hours. In such a state, a puppet like himself could do nothing at all.
"Your Majesty! Look at this! It is a plan devised by the Young Lord of the Wang Clan!"
"The Young Lord?"
Not even the clan head — the Young Lord? From what he had heard, the boy had not yet even come of age. To think they were sending him schemes drafted by a mere child... just how far had royal authority fallen?
But Shin Arin, who had read the plan through, seemed to think otherwise, for she was in a state of great excitement. So Wang Yeong took the letter and slowly read through this so-called plan. And immediately, he understood her reaction.
"This—!"
"If it is this, Your Majesty, the situation can be turned about! We need only endure until this plan bears fruit—!"
She was right. With the overwhelming support of the people behind him, deposing him would become a perilous undertaking for Choe Chunghon. No — it would go further than that. The royal authority itself would grow stronger.
It was, without question, cause for joy. And yet Wang Yeong could not simply rejoice.
'When Choe Chunghon is finished... the Wang Clan comes next, does it not...'
Wang Yeong squeezed his eyes shut.
***
"Do you really need to go somewhere else for your cultivation? Is it truly necessary to travel all the way to Sacheon..."
True to form, Nari kept trying to talk me out of it right up to the very day of my closed-door cultivation. This was one of those things a non-martial artist simply couldn't understand, which made it hard to explain. Having Seolha by my side was a small mercy.
"Maid Nari, didn't you say you understood just yesterday?"
"But still, my lady... Aren't you sad? You won't see each other for four whole years."
"Of course I'm sad, but there's nothing to be done. It's already decided, and since the Young Lord wishes it, letting him go is my duty as his betrothed."
Seolha said this with her shoulders somehow squared high. She seemed to take considerable pride in the whole betrothed business.
Nari took pride in being the personal maid, and Seolha in being the fiancée — I couldn't help wondering if the two of them might find something less ridiculous to be proud of.
'It's embarrassing, is what it is.'
It wasn't just Nari and Seolha, either — there were others present, and the whole thing was mortifying beyond words.
"I, Ansong, am overwhelmed with joy to be following you, my Young Lord!"
"You rascal. If you don't do your job properly, I'll kill you with qi deviation."
"You have nothing to worry about!"
Watching him thump his chest as he said it, I had to admit he seemed dependable. Ansong had served as my guard since my rebirth, and he was a Peak Realm expert. He'd be useful not only as a protector but in sparring as well.
"Unhand me! I shall follow my Lord!"
Just then Hanmuk had one of his episodes. I raised my fist and subdued him on the spot, then handed him over to Seonwoo.
"Keep a close watch on this bastard. Don't let him leave the clan grounds."
"Yes, sir!"
Tremble, tremble.
No sooner had I given the order than Seonwoo's hands started shaking again — apparently something else had him nervous. At this rate, I honestly didn't know when he'd ever master the Gale-Wind Sword Technique.
I could only hope he'd improve at least a little by the time I returned from my seclusion.
"Big Brother, are you leaving?"
"Yeah. Later, when I'm grown, I'll come back to see you, Ran."
"Can't you just not go?"
"I'm sorry."
Pat, pat.
The moment I stroked her hair, Ran's face brightened right up. Strange — everyone loved it when I patted their heads. Was there something about my hands?
I was staring blankly at my own hand, pondering this, when Ran suddenly thrust out her little finger.
"Then one promise."
"A promise?"
"Yeah. When you come back, promise you'll play with me forever and ever."
Play with her? Did she mean piggyback rides, like always?
Ran said it with an expression far more serious than usual — what choice did I have? I hooked my finger around hers.
"Okay. It's a promise."
"!!!"
Thwack!
The instant the promise was made, Ran tore her hand free and bolted off in the opposite direction.
What was that about?
As I stood there puzzled, Nari's and Seolha's baleful glares swung around to land squarely on me.
...Now what did I do? I swear, this time I genuinely did nothing wrong.
When they met my eyes brimming with wounded innocence, Nari and Seolha exchanged a look and, without a word, sighed in perfect unison.
And one person watched the whole display with utter contempt.
"Mother."
"Whew. Have you packed everything properly? Let's check your belongings once more, in case you've forgotten anything."
"Mother, I already checked earlier—"
"Check. Again."
"Yes, ma'am."
As I obediently went over my belongings once more, unable to defy Cheok Hwaryeon, Moyong Hu came shambling over with tears streaming down his face.
"That I am so inadequate as to drive my Young Lord to such lengths — even to closed-door cultivation — it fills me with bitter shame!"
For God's sake.
"Ansong."
"Yes, my Young Lord."
"Deal with that."
"I... beg your pardon?"
"There's a threat to my personal safety standing right in front of me! Deal with it at once!"
But Moyong Hu simply charged forward and swept me into his arms.
"My youoooung Lord!"
"Grrkk—!"
"Hck! Royal Sword Brigade Commander! Release him at once!"
Only when Ansong belatedly intervened did Moyong Hu let go, with the air of a man deprived of his dearest wish.
"What is all this commotion."
The moment Wang Inho appeared, everyone — everyone except Cheok Hwaryeon and me — dropped hastily to one knee.
"Father."
"You depart now?"
"Yes. I have to travel down to Sacheon, so even leaving today, it will take more than ten days."
"Hmm."
Wang Inho drew closer, then reached out and straightened the front of my robe.
"See that you bring no shame upon the Wang Clan's name. That is Kim Clan territory you are walking into."
"I will bear it in mind."
With those final words, Wang Inho turned on his heel and walked away without a backward glance. Perhaps, in his own way, that was his form of encouragement.
And so, after bidding farewell to everyone, I set out for Sacheon with Ansong at my side.