The Golden Spike of the Martial Academy Market
"Do you know what sort of people usually open martial academies?"
Jeong So-so felt a flicker of unease, wondering what strange nonsense this eccentric master was about to spout this time.
Jeong So-ryong, by contrast, simply settled into a cross-legged seat and listened attentively, ready to accept whatever Jin Cheong-un did.
"I couldn't say. What sort of people are they?"
"Say ten people set out to open an academy. About half of them are washed-up Jianghu types who never made it big and retire to open one as a money-making scheme."
Jin Cheong-un counted off on his fingers as he spoke.
"Two or so are secular disciples who trained under some so-called great clan or prestigious school and struck out on their own. One is someone genuinely devoted to teaching. And one, more often than not, is a plain old fraud."
Jeong So-ryong, who had been tallying the numbers for a moment, tilted his head.
"Master, that leaves one unaccounted for."
"Well said. The last one is the case of true masters opening an academy out of genuine conviction. And!"
Flash!
Jin Cheong-un's eyes blazed.
"That one dominates the entire academy market."
Was that really necessary to say with such force?
Whatever the case, the sheer bravado of it made Jeong So-so swallow nervously.
"Like that... Jincheon Academy in Beijing?"
"Oh, you know of it. Yes—Jincheon Academy in Beijing, Inui Academy in Shanxi, and Jideok Academy in Shaanxi. Those are exactly the kind I mean. Together, they're called the Three Talents Academies."
The Three Talents Academies, or the Three Great Academies of the World.
It was the name given to the three most famous martial academies in the land, grouped together by the happy accident that their names contained Heaven, Earth, and Man.
Among their graduates were men who had entered government service and risen to become great generals, and plenty more who held key posts in the Martial Arts Alliance.
Their characters differed, but in some respects their reputation commanded respect equal to that of the orthodox great sects.
"Now then—which category do you suppose this master of yours falls into?"
"Um..."
Probably the most common one—the kind run by a retiree who never made it big?
The moment the thought crossed her mind, Jin Cheong-un spoke.
"Too obvious a question. The answer, of course, is that I run an academy founded by a true master, just like the Three Talents Academies."
"Ah... yes."
"For a martial artist of my caliber to run an academy is practically market destruction in itself. Which means it's only a matter of time before prospective students line up at the gates."
"I see."
"Exactly. That's how it is."
"..."
"..."
After a brief silence, Jeong So-so asked with dubious eyes.
"...So how exactly does that get students through our doors?"
"What, you can't even focus while your master is speaking? What have you been listening to this whole time?"
"..."
Jeong So-so blinked hard.
"Your unworthy disciple is having trouble understanding... which part of what you just said had anything to do with gathering students?"
"The old texts speak of the awl in the sack. A sharp point will poke through no matter where you stuff it."
The awl in the sack, he says.
Why on earth is that coming up now?
"With a master as outstanding as me appearing on the academy market, there's no possible way people won't come."
"...?"
"It's plain as day that applicants will line up out the gate. Frankly, my only worry is that too many will come. Hahaha!"
"...!"
Jeong So-so swallowed drily.
Good heavens.
In that moment, she superimposed onto Jin Cheong-un the image of the village elders she'd seen time and again—men overflowing with confidence who'd launched into business after retirement, crashed spectacularly, and lost their shirts.
Ask anyone in the Jianghu today which power reigned supreme, and every last one of them would answer with a single name.
The Martial Arts Alliance.
The Jianghu of this era belonged, in name and in fact, to the orthodox factions.
The war against the Esoteric Cult had shaken them briefly, but their visible victory in that very war had won them the support of every class and corner of society.
And at the very summit of the Martial Arts Alliance stood this man.
Supreme Alliance Leader, Yeo Woon-baek.
A myth risen from a third-rate sect.
Hero of the Jianghu.
Miracle administrator.
Swordsman.
And a chivalrous hero in the truest sense.
A iron-willed leader who guided the Jianghu with unshakable conviction and profound insight—that was the man called Yeo Woon-baek.
At least, that was how he appeared to the world.
"This tea is truly excellent. Heh heh."
Yeo Woon-baek was savoring his tea at leisure, wearing the benevolent smile of a kindly village elder.
Across from him, Jegal Rin, Chief Military Strategist of the Alliance, wore a distinctly sour expression.
"Alliance Leader, a formal letter of protest has arrived from the Paeng Clan. They say that if their demands are not met this time either, they may go so far as to secede from the Alliance..."
"Dear, dear. The Paeng Clan Leader seems to have accumulated quite a few grievances. Do go and smooth his feathers, Strategist."
"Regarding the matter of Hwaseong Sect's logistics access routes near Shaanxi—"
"Won't everything flow along its natural course? Heh heh."
Slurp.
Yeo Woon-baek took another sip of tea and murmured contentedly, "How nice."
"...You seem to be in remarkably good spirits lately."
"The war is over and the Jianghu couldn't be more peaceful. I suppose that's why my mind is at ease."
Jegal Rin's face grew slightly flustered.
"Incidents and accidents are breaking out across the land without end, and you call it peaceful?"
The war might be over, but the Jianghu remained as noisy as ever.
Within the Alliance itself, an organization of that size, complaints never ceased, and from without, trouble never stopped arriving.
"You have a council with the elders in half a shichen."
"Mm."
"You must also rule on the dispute between our Nanyang branch and a nearby unorthodox pirate fleet, and this evening you have a dinner engagement with senior officials from the government offices. Do you remember?"
"Ah, is that today?"
Each of these matters demanded his full attention, yet Yeo Woon-baek remained utterly placid. Endlessly, impossibly placid.
Setting down his teacup, he smiled broadly.
"And yet isn't that peaceful enough for you?"
"...Pardon?"
"Accidents only need tidying up, and incidents only need processing. Is that not so?"
"Be that as it may—"
"Strategist."
Yeo Woon-baek's face turned serious.
"Cast your mind back to when that one was still here."
That one?
In that instant, Jegal Rin went pale, as though a man who had recalled something he must never remember, and cold sweat broke out across his face.
Soon after, he drew a sharp breath and nodded vigorously.
"Come to think of it, you're quite right, Alliance Leader."
"There, you see. The sunshine is warm, the breeze is pleasant... how peaceful and fine it all is? You work too hard, Strategist. Take some time to enjoy yourself."
"Yes, I really ought to try that sometime."
Before he knew it, Jegal Rin was wearing the same serene smile as Yeo Woon-baek.
"To think the absence of a single person could bring this much peace."
"What I found more astonishing was that one person could stir up trouble as naturally as breathing."
"And all the while, he genuinely believed he was cleaning up after himself."
"Enough to drive a man mad."
Having chewed on Jin Cheong-un a few times in lieu of refreshments, Jegal Rin let his gaze grow deliberately grave.
"That said, our people are still digging into the whereabouts of the former Unit Leader... pardon me, the former Academy Master."
"Tsk, tsk. I told you he retired and went home. Why do you keep at it?"
"He believes the Alliance sent him down in secret with some hidden agenda."
"How many times have we explained this already?"
"What can I do if they refuse to believe it?"
Yeo Woon-baek smacked his lips and swallowed another mouthful of tea.
If Jin Cheong-un were here, he'd have said, 'These bastards just won't stop running their mouths no matter how many times I tell them,' and cursed them out freely without a shred of hesitation.
But for the sake of the Alliance Leader's dignity, he had no choice but to sigh and let it pass—and how regrettable that was.
"He stormed off declaring he'd open some martial academy, of all the ill-suited ventures... I do wonder if he's managing well."
A faint note of wistfulness crept into Yeo Woon-baek's voice.
That stubborn fool. No news is good news, they say, but still...
After all the years they'd known each other, how could the man not send so much as a single greeting?
The only news to reach his ears was the report through official channels—and even that said the man had demolished an unorthodox pirate fleet the moment he arrived back home. And not just any fleet: the remnants of the Heaven Restraining Society, entangled with the Iron Blood Fortress, no less.
The retired fool's first piece of news, and it's the annihilation of an entire sect.
Had his body recovered somewhat, then?
Then again, what was it to a man like him to smash one or two unorthodox fleets, even without his internal energy? The Jin Cheong-un he knew had always been that kind of man.
"Are you worried about him?"
"Worried? Hardly!"
Jegal Rin only smiled calmly.
Yeo Woon-baek murmured, an unusual gravity in his voice.
"He's more fragile than he looks, that one."
Fragile. Had any Alliance members who knew Jin Cheong-un heard that, they would have flown into a rage.
Jegal Rin stole a glance at Yeo Woon-baek.
Who would look at that expression and think it belonged to a superior fondly remembering a former subordinate? It looked far closer to a father worrying over a troublemaking son.
"Shall we send word to the Uichang branch?"
"He's already left the Alliance. Don't."
"He held a key post; a moderate inquiry would be within bounds."
"Leave it be. It would only invite misunderstanding from the other powers."
"If you insist to that extent."
Jegal Rin said in an even voice,
"I'm sure he's doing fine. He is the Black Dragon Unit Captain of legend, after all."
"Mm."
Yes, he would be doing fine.
He certainly wouldn't have founded a martial academy without giving it any thought at all.
At that very moment, at Cheongun Martial Arts Academy—
The gate that had rotted to splinters now gleamed as a smooth, polished sandalwood gate.
The floor of the vast training grounds spread out in blindingly white blue-steel flagstones.
And in the corner, brand-new wooden dummies and training equipment stood packed in neat rows.
Cheongun Martial Arts Academy, once a ruin one step from collapse, had been reborn as a building with an antique elegance all its own.
But there remained one single thing missing.
The most important thing of all.
"...Why."
The corners of Jin Cheong-un's eyes twitched.
"Why is no one coming?"
A fortnight since opening.
New students: zero.
Visitors, onlookers: zero.
Cheongun Martial Arts Academy was a failure.
Bang!
At the noise from outside, Jin Cheong-un shot to his feet.
A customer!
But what met his eyes was not a person.
Meeeoooow—!
A cat with snowy white paws and jet-black fur from head to tail stretched into one long, languid yawn, then let out a resounding wail. It held a brief staring contest with him—then flipped its tail over the wall and vanished.
"...A cat, of all things."
Jin Cheong-un grumbled and flopped back into his chair.
His gaze, turned up toward the clear blue sky, went glassy.
This can't be right.
This made no sense.
You think no one's come because they haven't heard of us?
You think the preparations were too half-baked?
That was a remark born of profound ignorance of the world.
Most common folk lived lives starved desperately for entertainment.
Why else would a festival day or the arrival of a traveling performers' troupe become a treasured memory for a lifetime?
It was no accident that villagers abandoned their perfectly good homes to gather at the tavern and gossip about Jianghu affairs. Such chatter was, quite simply, the finest entertainment their lives afforded.
Getting soundly fleeced by some "passing martial artist" was the everyday routine of the Central Plains—and even that misfortune became another story to savor. That was the Jianghu for you.
Which is exactly why this makes no sense whatsoever.
Cheongun Martial Arts Academy still had no visitors.
Still! STILL!!
O heavens above!
Caw! Craaak! Caaaw—!
At the sudden croak of crows, Jin Cheong-un's brow furrowed.
"First a cat comes wandering by, now a whole flock of ill-omened crows..."
He flinched, then shook his head firmly.
"No, none of that. Ill omens? They're mere animals."
The academy sat in the mountains—of course there were birds. Calling a lowly creature unlucky was nothing but superstition.
Right. It's all in the mind.
The clear sky.
The refreshing breeze.
With his heart thus settled, even the birds' cries sounded like sweet, soothing song...
Craaak! CRAAAAAAAAAW!
"You little feathered bastards, just you wait!"
Jin Cheong-un finally stormed outside.
"You think our academy is your bedroom?! Get lost! I said GET LOST!"
He bellowed at the rooftops, and the crows startled into a scattered flight.
Jin Cheong-un huffed out a breath and let a smirk curl across his lips.
"Should've done that from the start... Hm?"
But the crows didn't leave. They wheeled around and came circling back. And then—
Splat!
Something white splattered across the roof.
Only then did the crows caw gleefully and take wing.
"Y-you—!"
Jin Cheong-un looked around wildly for something, anything to throw—and then froze mid-motion, slowly turning to his side.
"..."
There stood Jeong So-ryong, blinking placidly at him.
"What are you doing, sir?"
"..."
Jin Cheong-un cleared his throat once and discreetly clasped his hands behind his back.
"So-ryong, didn't I tell you to be training? What exactly are you doing here instead? Is your master's instruction so very amusing to you?"
A moment of silence fell.
Jeong So-ryong simply smiled.
"I finished everything you assigned, so I came back."
"Ah, well, this master was merely in meditation for a moment—"
"Master, don't worry. Your disciple saw nothing at all."
"..."