The Hunter with a Plow
Deep in a mountain somewhere between Shanxi and Hebei, the sound of someone sprinting pell-mell echoed through the trees.
Pitter-patter-pitter-patter—!
"Boss! Someone's coming this way!"
A palisade pounded in half-heartedly, a house thrown up half-heartedly, and inside that house a man who had been sprawled out just as half-heartedly stirred upright and spoke.
"Someone's coming? Sounds like it's time to grease the old gut again."
Gwak Beom, master of this modest little mountain fortress, shook off the lingering haze of sleep as he scooped up the saber lying beside him and bellowed.
"Boys! We've got guests! Grab your gear!"
"Yes, Boss!"
The lookout posted at the mountain pass had returned bearing truly welcome news for the first time in ages, and a dozen-odd able-bodied men snatched up sabers and clubs — one even a plow — and came swarming out after Gwak Beom.
"Heh heh heh... This time, let it be some rich young sprout from a fine family passing through."
"You said it, Boss. Bleeding types like that is the most rewarding work there is."
"Exactly. Soft-raised young lords shiver so delightfully with only a little intimidation."
Greasy hair, a beard grown wild and untended, a filthy face and yellowed teeth to top it all off... Anyone could tell at a glance that he was a bandit, and he flicked his tongue across his lips, already savoring the spoils, as he headed for the stretch of road they would have to pass. No one had come this way in ages, and he swore to himself he would not let this rare chance slip through his fingers.
Clip-clop— clip-clop—
Hoofbeats sounded in the distance, and he scrambled to hop out onto the road, resting his saber across his shoulder.
"Everyone, HALT!"
Pitter-patter-pitter-patter—!
Soon enough he heard his men come thundering down onto the road behind him, and yet...
"Huh...?"
All he could do was roll his eyes in wild circles, utterly flustered by the scene spreading out before him.
"Dushik, what in the hell is that?"
Having been treated to the spectacle of us running for the past several days, Jinchol had finally begun to lose interest in us and was now meditating alone inside the carriage — and thanks to that, I was on horseback, pointing with one hand as I asked Giyeong.
He squinted, peered at where my finger was aimed, then looked up at me.
"Where? Ah... I believe that one is a bandit, my lord."
"Oh... a bandit, you say?"
"Shall I bring him in?"
"Nah. If the fool goes and rounds up all his little buddies, that'll be fun. Why bother catching him now?"
"True... it's not as if anyone out here could actually handle a blade... Understood."
"Then how about a bet on how many men he brings back? Closest guess wins."
"And what do I get if I win?"
"If you guess right, I'll let you ride a horse too."
The truth of the matter was that back when everyone had been sneakily mounting their horses one by one, Giyeong had gone and blurted out yet another pointless remark, and thanks to that he was still diligently running along on his own two feet.
"And if you win, my lord?"
"Then you run with me on your back."
"Aw, come on... that's a bit much, isn't it? Not that I'm saying I would be the one worn out — it's the horse that would be."
"Or would you rather climb into the carriage and have a nice, cozy little chat with Great Hero Jinchol?"
"I'll carry the horse. Carrying people, you see, happens to be the one thing I do better than anyone else in the entire Dang Clan."
To relieve the tedium, we had deliberately pretended not to see the bandit scout loitering off in the distance and let him go on his way, and had been passing the time with our little wager instead.
A short while later...
"Everyone, HALT!!!"
Sure enough, a fellow who looked at a glance like either a bandit or a beggar planted himself across the road and began to bellow. Behind him a pack of similarly shabby-looking men came swarming up and lined up at his back, and...
"One, two, three... sixteen. Tsk."
I counted them off on my fingers and clicked my tongue.
"I win, my lord? Exactly sixteen, if you please. Truly remarkable..."
Fwoop—! Giyeong chortled heartily and vaulted up onto a horse.
"Shame... Well, as a martial artist of the righteous factions, I can't exactly just let bandits slide, can I?"
Robbed of the spectacle of him trotting through the Paeng Clan's main gate with the 'horse' on his back, I was flexing my fingers in disappointment when—
"S-s-stop right there!"
The first man to come running down abruptly threw both hands into the air and shouted.
"We are not bandits!"
"What?"
"W-we're not bandits... we're hunters!"
At the sheer absurdity coming out of his mouth, I stared at him with a look that said, let's see just how far you'll take this.
"I can explain everything — please, just hear me out!"
And so, wearing an expression of pure desperation, the man began his tale.
The truth was that Gwak Beom had been born the son of a merchant family.
Not, of course, the scion of some famously wealthy merchant house — merely the eldest son of a family that ran a modest little shop. But money was something he had only ever been good at spending, never gathering...
"I can't stand the sight of a wretch like you anymore, so get out and stay out!"
Worse, he had secretly made off with an advance payment his father had received, gambled it all away, been caught red-handed, and been thrown out of the house for it.
So nearly ten years flowed by...
"Boss, we turned a nice fat profit this time, didn't we?"
"That we did. Tonight, we drink our fill!"
He had become a bandit chief.
Of course, Shanxi and Hebei were righteous-faction territory, and with the Hebei Paeng Clan — one of the Five Great Clans — and several other great houses arrayed nearby, he was a decent, honest sort of bandit who practiced conscientious banditry. He never so much as considered killing anyone, let alone kidnapping them...
"We know these mountains like the backs of our hands. Show a little sincerity and we can manage an escort of sorts for you."
"Hmm... very well. Then take this."
That was the whole of it: he would flick his tongue over his rusty saber, collect a toll-plus-escort fee, and walk travelers safely along the mountain paths. And so he lived out his pseudo-bandit days in perfect peace.
"Boss! Someone's coming this way!"
The underling he had taken on recently was standing his very first watch that day, and when he reported someone approaching, Gwak Beom, giddy with anticipation, blocked the road as he always did — and then he saw it.
The character was emblazoned there, bold as brass, everywhere he looked — and at the sight of it, Gwak Beom could not help but recall a saying famous throughout the murim.
The Dang Clan repays a favor twofold — and a foe, twofold of twofold.
Doom-doom-doom-doom—!
Just then, the young man far in the distance who met his gaze curled his lips into a skin-crawling smile and let a crimson glint flash from his eyes.
"W-we're hunters!"
And so he launched into the performance of his life.
"So? What are hunters doing blocking the road?"
"Well, the truth is... word reached us that a tiger had shown up around here, so we came to catch it."
"'Came to catch it,' hm?"
"Y-yes! That is, we did!"
Even with a brat half his age peppering him with informal speech — whether because of the pressure radiating off the young man or simply the weight of the Dang name — Gwak Beom answered with all due respect, cold sweat streaming down his face.
"It's only that... we thought you might run into danger, so we wished to give you warning."
"Oh? And these 'hunters' of yours — not one of you is carrying a bow, nothing but long-handled weapons... and what in the world is that supposed to be? Did you bring a plow?"
"That one's a farmer, you see. He heard about the tiger and, saying he would avenge his brother, he grabbed a plow out of the shed — and now he won't stop following us. And, well, none of us had the money to bring bows..."
"You're not hunters who hunt people instead of tigers, by any chance?"
"Oh, dear me... what frightening things you say. Do we look like such heinous criminals to you?"
"Because that's exactly what you look like."
At the young brat's relentless fault-finding, Gwak Beom prayed, deep down.
Please, just let it slide. Please...
And perhaps heaven truly was moved by the earnestness of his prayer.
"Tsk... Fine. Then just move along."
When the young man, still looking none too pleased, said he would let them pass, Gwak Beom bowed at the waist over and over.
"Oh dear... our deepest apologies for holding such busy people for so long. We'll be on our way, then."
"Right. And no more banditry from now on."
".........."
For one instant, ten thousand thoughts whirled through his head, but he answered a moment later with a face of perfect composure and a voice that was anything but.
"Oh my... we're hunters — how could you say such a thing?"
"Tsk..."
"Then we'll really be going now. Do travel safely."
"Safe travels!!!"
Once the crowd — bandits or hunters, who could say — swarmed off between the trees, Giyeong asked his own Young Clan Head:
"You're simply letting them go?"
"Why? Am I not allowed to?"
"It's not that... they're bandits beyond any doubt. They look the part from head to toe..."
"I know."
I answered listlessly to Giyeong, who was staring back at me with a puzzled look.
"But they don't exactly reek of blood, so there's no need to go killing them. What's so fun about killing people that you'd just butcher them left and right?"
Then Myeongwol, who had at some point sidled up beside me, spoke up out of nowhere...
"Fellow Daoist Muyeong, you speak the truth. As the old saying goes, a truly worthy hero should aim not merely to cut down the wicked, but to guide them onto the proper path..."
"The Young Lord... a chivalrous hero? The Qingcheng Sect would weep tears of blood if they heard that."
"Hey, that was at least half your fault, if you ask me! Dushik..."
"Dushik... I've decided you're just going to carry the horse."
"Wh-what? My lord? MY LORD!!!!!"
Ignoring Giyeong's futile piping-up, I loaded him with the 'horse' whether he liked it or not, and without so much as a backward glance, pulled on the reins.
And so, leaving our trivial little brush with the bandits behind us, we arrived at the Paeng Clan.
"Whoa... it's already this lively?"
"Well, the Blade King is one of the most venerable elders of the entire righteous faction, after all."
"Even for a birthday celebrating his ninetieth year, this is going a bit too f— they've certainly thrown themselves into it."
By the time we arrived at the Paeng Clan the grounds were already packed with people, servants scurrying every which way, so I chatted with Giyeong while carefully minding my tongue.
"To be honest, I thought they might have prepared something even grander than this?"
"Huh? Why?"
"I heard that because the Blade King refused every banquet until now, this time the Paeng Clan Head somehow wrung his consent out of him and has been preparing with gritted teeth ever since. If one only considers the things the Blade King accomplished in his life..."
"Save the history lesson for later... I wonder whether the Zhuge Clan has arrived."
Perhaps because his explanation had been cut off mid-flow, Giyeong went into quite the sulk; I pointedly ignored him and asked a nearby servant whether the Zhuge Clan had come, only to be told...
"The Zhuge Clan has not yet arrived."
At that answer I scratched my head and headed for the lodgings that had been prepared for us.
Having unpacked our things at the quarters set aside for the Dang Clan party, those who wanted to rest rested, and those headed for the training grounds headed for the training grounds.
"What's gotten into you, Young Lord, practicing your martial arts of all things? I haven't seen you give training so much as a glance since your days with the Young Lady..."
"Well... there's the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament coming, so I ought to loosen up at least a little."
I was tossing off this halfhearted reply while stretching out my limbs, when—
"DANG MUYEONG!!!"
Someone screamed my name and loosed a slash of sword qi straight at me.