Black Dragon Blade Yeom Gilsan
Aren't Romance of the Three Kingdoms and Records of the Chu-Han Contention essential classics?
Literature that shaped not only Korea but Japanese culture across the sea. That is Romance of the Three Kingdoms.
Slap the Three Kingdoms name on something and people will buy it even if they already know the story. A Japanese game company alone has released dozens of titles under that banner — proof enough of how many people know and love it. So how, in the land where the story was born, could anyone not know it?
Could this be the Cultural Revolution's doing?
The thought crossed my mind, but the Cultural Revolution was centuries away. It hadn't happened yet. So why did these two men know nothing of the Three Kingdoms — or the Chu-Han Contention either?
Maybe they were just poorly educated commoners. But Guan Yu from the Three Kingdoms had been deified by the people, enshrined in temples called Guandi Temples across every region of China. That made their ignorance hard to swallow. And this was Hyeongju — one of the most famous settings in the entire saga, the site of the Battle of Red Cliffs and the place where Guan Yu died. Guandi Temples should have been everywhere. For people living here not to know the Three Kingdoms? No matter how I turned it over, it made no sense.
"You truly don't know Romance of the Three Kingdoms? You live in Hyeongju and you've never heard that the Battle of Red Cliffs was fought here long ago, or that General Guan Yu died here?"
I couldn't hold the question in.
"Battle of Red Cliffs? General Guan Yu? What's that supposed to be? I've heard there were big wars around here in the old days, sure — but big wars have happened more than once or twice."
"You're from here? How can you live in Hyeongju and not know the Battle of Red Cliffs or General Guan Yu?"
I asked again, stunned by the answer from the porter they called Im-hyeong.
"Why would I know something that happened in ancient times? More importantly — is it true about the Gentleman's Sword, Lord Sama Junghyeok?"
Still reeling from the shock that they didn't know the Three Kingdoms, I didn't even try to answer. Instead I turned to the other porters around us.
"Excuse me. Do you know Romance of the Three Kingdoms?"
"Three Kingdoms? What's that?"
"Three Kingdoms? What kind of soup is that? My back's killing me — get lost with that nonsense."
Every last one of them said the same thing. None of them knew it.
"What's all this racket! Move, now!"
One of the merchant group's men barked at the brief disturbance. The porters — lowly laborers, nothing more — fell silent and shuffled back to their places. Even as they moved, I kept turning the confusion over in my mind.
It had been months since I'd been thrown into this world. In that time I hadn't pinned down the exact year, but I'd learned this was the Ming era, and that countries like Joseon and Japan existed here too.
So this was the past — and yet no one knew the Three Kingdoms. Luo Guanzhong, who wrote it, lived from the late Yuan into the early Ming. With Joseon already founded, the book should have been written. People should have known it.
Even if I was wrong and Luo Guanzhong hadn't written it yet, the story itself was supposed to have been reasonably well known. Luo Guanzhong had started writing after watching Three Kingdoms performances, after all.
And yet these people spoke as if they'd never heard of it.
"Hey! Where's your head at? Watch where you're walking!"
I snapped out of my tangled thoughts when I walked straight into the man who'd stopped in front of me.
"What's going on?"
I asked the porter who'd halted. His face was grim.
"Bandits, looks like."
Bandits? Before we'd set out I'd asked around, and everyone had said this route was clear of them.
And yet — bandits?
The word was dark enough to make my vision swim. I rose on my toes and peered ahead. The caravan's leaders were talking with a group of bandits. In that sudden brush with death, resentment toward that Sama bastard surged up again.
If he hadn't wrecked the restaurant, I'd still be working as a jeomsoi. I never would have run into bandits.
"What do you think will happen?"
I asked a porter beside me who looked like he had some years on him, not knowing what came next.
"No idea. Porters like us just do as we're told. Even if a fight breaks out, bandits try not to touch laborers if they can help it. Too much blood and the government troops come down on them, so they don't go looking for it. That said — don't worry. Do you know who's leading this caravan?"
"Who?"
"The Tiger Wind Swordsman, Master Jang Pilsen. The finest pyodu in Hyeongju. Bandits shake at the sound of his name. So put your mind at ease."
"Is that so?"
"And that's not all. Traveling with us is one of the Seven Dragons — the Jade-Faced Divine Dragon, Young Master Im Seha! A caravan with both the Tiger Wind Swordsman and the Jade-Faced Divine Dragon. Once the bandits realize those two are here, they'll tuck their tails and run."
That eased me a little. Even in this savage age, some authority still held, and strong people were traveling with us. My rattling heart had just begun to settle when the same helpful porter dropped something chilling.
"But bandits coming back to this road… Hmm. Master Jang wiped out one of the Green Forest strongholds years ago, and nothing's been seen here since. For them to show up with Master Jang standing right here — what a bunch of idiots, haha!"
He spoke as if Jang Pilsen's presence meant we had nothing to fear. Somehow it felt ominous. The Green Forest was the collective of bandit factions. Wipe out one of their strongholds and your name goes up as a marked man across the whole network.
For them to settle here anyway, risk and all — didn't that mean they were confident they could handle Jang Pilsen?
That thought had barely formed when, contrary to my dread, the talk seemed to end well. The bandit who looked like their chief — the one who'd been speaking with Jang Pilsen — slid the great blade painted with a black dragon back into his sash and let out a booming laugh.
"Hahahahaha!!! Now there's a man who knows how to talk!"
"We are grateful that Chief Yeom Gilsan of the Black Dragon Blade has looked kindly upon us."
They were too far for me to catch every word, but Jang Pilsen — the man bandits were supposed to tremble at — was bowing at the waist like a dog with its tail between its legs, speaking with careful deference.
At the same moment, the porter beside me went white and cried out.
"G-good heavens! Yeom Gilsan?!"
"Yeom Gilsan? Who's that?"
I asked the porter, who was muttering the name in panic. He stared at me as if I were an idiot for not knowing.
"You don't know Yeom Gilsan? He's the chaeju of the Black Dragon Bandit Clan Stronghold!"
In that instant I was reminded again: people only remember what touches their livelihood.
It had been the same in my old life. The girls in the theater department who could never remember my name — a fellow student — yet always recalled the handsome senior they'd barely met. That, too, must have been a matter of direct personal consequence…
"I've never heard the name. Who is Yeom Gilsan that you're making such a fuss?"
The porter looked at me like I'd crawled out of the wilderness.
"What — did you grow up on some frontier? You don't know Yeom Gilsan, sworn younger brother of the Green Forest Grand Chief? Against Yeom Gilsan, even Master Jang Pilsen… Damn it! Of all people to run into Yeom Gilsan! No wonder my dreams were bad before we left!"
"You just said bandits don't touch porters like us. Is Yeom Gilsan different?"
"The Black Dragon Bandit Clan Stronghold is a place even the government troops gave up on and washed their hands of. You think he's afraid of soldiers? Cross him and your head comes off! All we can do is pray they take the toll and let us through."
My brief relief that public authority still meant something evaporated. This was a savage age where the fist came before the law — an age that had thrown authority to the dogs.
I was praying we'd get through unharmed when Yeom Gilsan threw his head back and laughed, then bellowed loud enough to reach where I stood.
"Boys!!!! Time to welcome our guests!"
And in that moment I understood. Things had gone wrong — badly wrong.
At Yeom Gilsan's shout the surroundings erupted. Bandits who'd been hidden somehow appeared one by one and began to surround the caravan. A chill ran down my spine at the sight.
"Didn't you say there was some young master with us? That they'd tuck their tails and run?"
I turned back, panicking, to the porter who'd told me to relax.
"You fool! Even one of the Seven Dragons is still just a rising talent! And the other side is the Black Dragon Blade — the Black Dragon Blade! Aigoo! We're all dead men."
He fretted and flapped as he explained. Even with nothing happening, that kind of panic from the people around you is enough to make anyone afraid.
And this was not nothing. Bandits stood right in front of us.
It was worse than being dragged off by the bad older boys in the alley as a child. Those you could ignore and run from. Here the bandits already had us ringed in. There was nowhere to run.
I was standing there, helpless and sinking, when a handsome young man stepped out from the merchant group's ranks and began speaking to the Black Dragon Blade.
They were too far away for me to hear what was said. Still, the fact that they were talking at all suggested things weren't getting worse. They spoke for a few minutes, then the Black Dragon Blade laughed loudly and raised a hand.
The bandits who'd been surrounding us with blades put their weapons away at their waists and started walking toward him. The drop in tension looked like a good sign. Things seemed to have worked out.
Once the talks were finished, Jang Pilsen and the other escorts sheathed their swords and turned back toward the porters. In that peaceful atmosphere I let out a sigh of relief without thinking.
I didn't know why Jang Pilsen was coming over to us, but a sword going back into its scabbard meant the situation was over, didn't it?
I had just let go of that taut string of tension when words I could not believe came out of Jang Pilsen's mouth.
"You, and you, you, you, you, and you. You lot will need to stay with the stronghold's people for a while."
He pointed with a fingertip as he spoke.
"Damn it…"
The moment I confirmed that fingertip was aimed at me, the curse slipped out on its own.