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◈ Murim in my Hometown ◈
Chapter 22: Filial Son
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“No one would keep a clear head over one hundred taels of silver. Martial artists who know how to restrain themselves when faced with such a sum are rarer still. I hear you matched Head Escort Pung Gangik evenly in a spar?”
The Pavilion Master’s eyes glittered strangely as she looked at me, like a girl who had found a pretty stone by a stream.
“Martial skill of that caliber, the sharpness to uncover the truth from a Maek Jade found by chance and a song heard in passing, and the nerve to come to me and make a decisive move. If I let such rare talent slip away, I would not deserve to sit as a branch head.”
I quietly felt relieved. At least I was certain this was not a place where I would die.
That did not mean I wanted to eagerly accept the Pavilion Master’s offer.
I had returned to my hometown because I was sick and tired of living as a blade-for-hire.
Working as a gatekeeper at a pleasure house was not so bad, but I did not want to become an underling of the Hao clan and spend my life killing people on command.
“Are you asking me to work for the Hao clan?”
“Someone as capable as Great Hero Jeong would always be welcome in our clan.”
“I am no longer a wandering martial artist. I do not want to torment or kill anyone.”
“Not every matter can only be resolved by killing someone. If you possess strength, words alone can be enough.”
“I do not want to be bound to any place.”
As I tried to keep my distance, the Pavilion Master made an offer I could not refuse.
“Then let us call you a guest member or a hired hand. Whenever our clan proposes work, you may decide for yourself whether to accept it. You seem to have done plenty of that sort of work.”
“Like the guests staying in the separate residence?”
“Something like that.”
I could see no way out. Rather than give a definite answer, I changed the subject.
“Did Bang Join know this place belonged to the Hao clan?”
The Pavilion Master shook her head.
“There was no reason to tell a scoundrel who eavesdropped on others like a rat and extorted money from them. Even at Yongcheon Escort Agency, only the escort agency master and a few others know.”
How had Bang Join thought he could extort money from the Pavilion Master? Had greed blinded him and emboldened him because Yongcheon Escort Agency handled Simhyang Pavilion’s security?
In any case, the Pavilion Master had given Bang Join silver instead of killing him on the spot.
The Pavilion Master’s guard would only have needed to draw his sword for Bang Join to become a dead man, without even calling one of the guests from the separate residence.
The Pavilion Master had probably wanted to kill Bang Join.
The birth mother of a promising Provincial Graduate scholar was, in truth, a lowly courtesan.
If that fact came to light, it would be one thing for the Pavilion Master, but it would plainly become a major obstacle in her son’s future.
He might fail the metropolitan examination for some unknown reason, or be excluded from the official post granted to those who passed the provincial examination.
Even the Prefectural Magistrate, who seemed close to the Pavilion Master, might turn away so that political rivals could not seize upon a weakness.
The Pavilion Master had been unable to search for her son for so long because she feared such ruin. So why had she suppressed her urge to kill Bang Join and shown such patience?
It did not seem to be because of her relationship with Yongcheon Escort Agency. Quietly covering up the death of a single escort would have been simple enough.
Perhaps she had intended to avoid leaving trouble behind.
The circumstances of Bang Join overhearing the two of them were too perfect to dismiss as coincidence.
What had the guard been doing that he failed to stop Bang Join from entering the separate residence? Had he left his post so as not to disturb the two of them?
If Bang Join had been acting at the instigation of someone seeking a weakness to use against the Hao clan branch head, simply killing him would not end the matter.
Perhaps the Pavilion Master had freed Bang Join and kept him under surveillance after making that cool-headed judgment.
For the Hao clan, keeping track of Bang Join’s every move would not have been difficult.
Even if the Black Night Gang controlled Seochon’s back alleys, the Hao clan had eyes and ears everywhere.
Then why had she given him silver again when Bang Join returned?
Had she decided it was not yet time to act? Or had she intended to put him at ease first, then quietly deal with him elsewhere later?
She seemed likely to answer if I asked, but I kept my mouth shut.
Bang Join was dead anyway.
I did not know whether anyone would hold a grudge over his death and seek revenge, but it would not be me.
Digging any deeper would be crossing the line.
For my own good, I decided to let my curiosity about a foolish gambler who had hastened his own death through unchecked greed end there.
I put the bank draft and Ink Token into my robe and rose. The Pavilion Master also stood with a relieved expression.
I was about to offer my farewell when I realized this was a perfect opportunity. I had only then remembered what the Hao clan did.
After hesitating briefly, I asked the Pavilion Master, who was looking at me curiously.
“Could I make a request of the Hao clan as well?”
“Of course. What do you want?”
“I am looking for people. They used to live here in Seochon.”
“Please, sit.”
I sat facing the Pavilion Master again, this time as the client of the Hao clan branch head.
I told her Soso’s name and age, along with those of Uncle and Auntie.
The Pavilion Master took out paper, brush, and ink, then carefully wrote down the information.
When I described their features, she dipped a fine brush in ink and swiftly drew across a sheet of painting paper before holding it up.
In an instant, the face of a young girl appeared on the page.
“Does it resemble her?”
“Her chin is a little narrower, and her eyes are larger. Her nose is higher too...”
I compared it to Soso as I remembered her and corrected the portrait bit by bit.
The Pavilion Master’s skill was extraordinary. I would have believed she was a professional artist.
I suddenly remembered the facial composite Won Seogang had shown me.
The style seemed similar, though slightly different. The Pavilion Master had not drawn it, but I suspected he had made a request at another Hao clan branch.
Had Won Seogang also sat in this very place, reached some sort of agreement with the Pavilion Master, and settled down as a guest?
After several revisions, the facial composites of Soso, Uncle, and Auntie were completed on fresh sheets of painting paper.
They looked just as they had when I saw them as a child, but for some reason, I felt adrift.
Ten years had passed. There was no way Soso still looked like this.
I did not even want to imagine how much Auntie and Uncle had changed after enduring the hardships of life.
“...Can you find them?”
“Since we know their names and where they are from, it may take some time, but it is possible. Provided they are still alive.”
If they were alive...
An unbearable, bitter reality might await me. Even so, I wanted to know.
If Soso and her family were no longer in this world, I wanted to find their graves and at least hold memorial rites for them.
If someone had harmed them, I would pursue that person to the Western Regions, the Southern Barbarians, or the very end of the world and make them pay in blood.
“How much will it cost?”
“The initial fee is five taels of silver, paid in advance. It is nonrefundable even if you cancel the request. The remaining fee will cover the expenses incurred, but if we fail to complete the request, we will not charge it.”
“I hope very much that I will have to pay the remaining fee.”
I took out one of the bank drafts I had just received and handed it over, receiving five taels of silver in change.
“I leave it to you.”
“We will do our utmost.”
By the time I emerged outside, it was already midnight. The guard who had been watching the moon approached.
Keeping a slight distance, I followed the guard across the garden.
Seeing the back of such a flawless master naturally made me think of the brief yet intense clash with Won Seogang the night before.
What would happen if I fought this guard?
I imagined him wielding his sword while using that nimble footwork.
Most wandering martial artists used sabers.
They were easier to handle.
Those wandering martial artists who used swords had properly learned sword techniques somewhere, whether from a fallen sect or elsewhere.
The swordsmen I had encountered so far preferred thrusting to slashing. Won Seogang’s swordsmanship had been the same.
A saber could thrust as well, but it was less effective than a sword.
The blade and spine had differing thicknesses and weights so that a saber could deliver maximum speed and destructive power when cutting. Those differences disrupted its balance when thrusting instead.
A sword was symmetrical in weight and shape to either side of its pointed tip.
It was difficult to put weight behind a slash, but it was perfectly suited for thrusting.
Bang Join had died after his heart was pierced in a single strike. If the murderer had used a saber, they would have simply cut off his head or delivered a broad slash across his chest.
No matter how bright the moon was, accurately piercing the palm-sized heart of a moving target was the kind of technique only perverted swordsmen would use.
By then, I was certain.
Yi Yunjae had not killed Bang Join.
This man had.
The circumstances of that night took shape in my mind.
After losing all his money at the gambling den, Bang Join went back to the Pavilion Master and extorted more money from her.
Yi Yunjae, who had been secretly listening outside, became enraged, lost his reason, and followed Bang Join to kill him.
Even if Bang Join was only third-rate, he was still a martial artist who had lived by the blade. A scholar who had spent his whole life reading could not possibly have been a match for him. Killing him with a single thrust through the heart was out of the question.
Bang Join must have easily subdued Yi Yunjae when he charged with a weapon. Since Bang Join knew Yi Yunjae’s relationship with the Pavilion Master, he likely could not draw his saber.
Perhaps he knocked away Yi Yunjae’s weapon with his sheathed saber, then kicked him down.
In the process, Yi Yunjae lost the Maek Jade that he always carried in his robe.
The guard, arriving a moment too late, saw Bang Join attacking Yi Yunjae and intervened, mercilessly piercing his heart.
Perhaps he had kept Bang Join alive because of the Pavilion Master’s orders, but had been waiting for a chance to kill him and remove the source of trouble.
When a suitable excuse appeared, perhaps he had acted boldly without missing the opportunity.
Whatever the case, it had likely been an unplanned killing.
If there had been a plan to silence Bang Join forever, there would have been no reason to pay him silver twice.
Nor would they have shed blood at Simhyang Pavilion.
It would have been much cleaner to wait until he left the gambling den and kill him in a back alley. Or they could have killed him inside the walls of the separate residence.
While the guard took the frozen Yi Yunjae back to the separate residence, a maid found the abandoned corpse and screamed.
Then I had come running.
As my thoughts reached that point, I stopped walking without realizing it.
The guard looked back.
“What is it?”
“You seem like an incredible master. Do you happen to use swift sword techniques?”
For the first time, a smile appeared on the guard’s pale face. It was as faint as moonlight reflected from a blade, an expression too subtle to reveal his thoughts.
“You seem to be no ordinary saber wielder yourself. I suspect we will see each other often, so let us exchange names. I am Geuk Hwan.”
Geuk Hwan gave a fist-and-palm salute and introduced himself. I clasped my left palm over my right fist.
“Jeong Daecheon.”
Perhaps because the Pavilion Master had acknowledged me, Geuk Hwan’s manner and speech were far gentler than before.
He saw me to the gate, returned my willow-leaf saber, and even offered a farewell.
“Take care on your way.”
* * *
I had gained a full one hundred taels of silver, so there was no longer any reason to remain a gatekeeper.
Still, considering my relationship with the escort agency, I completed exactly one month and quit on the day I received my wages.
Jo Gyeongjik tried to dissuade me several times before accepting my resignation.
The unidentified black-clad, masked figure said to have killed Bang Join was never caught.
Just as the Pavilion Master had promised, I was never dragged off to the authorities.
Rather than frame an innocent person as the culprit, the authorities strengthened their patrols, dragged things out for a while, and quietly closed the case.
The death of a third-rate gambler who had brought disaster upon himself by failing to know his limits gradually faded from memory.
The pleasure house prospered as it always had.
Provincial Graduate Yi Yunjae never visited Simhyang Pavilion again after the day Bang Join died. I suspected he had returned to his home in Hubei Province to prepare for the metropolitan examination.
I was not particularly curious, but about ten days later, I learned how Yi Yunjae had been doing.
Word of a conversation among a county magistrate’s party visiting Simhyang Pavilion passed from mouth to mouth until it reached my ears.
A few days after Yi Yunjae returned home, his mother suddenly died.
They said that after losing her husband three years earlier, she had lived only for the one son she had obtained with such difficulty.
When her son passed the provincial examination, she was beside herself with joy. She invited neighbors, friends, and relatives, then held a grand feast.
She must have fully savored the joy and pride of a mother blessed with such a son, receiving the envy and jealousy of countless people. But it did not last long.
She died before she could even see her son obtain an official post and rise through the ranks.
A healthy middle-aged woman with no particular illness had suddenly died overnight.
It was enough to make idle gossips whisper, yet what truly became the talk of the town was the chief mourner’s profound filial devotion.
Who would not be heartbroken by the death of family? Yet Yi Yunjae was especially so.
He wailed so sorrowfully that onlookers worried he might follow his dead mother into the grave.
He was not merely weeping out of formality. He sobbed in grief as though wringing his entire body dry.
People even said that the customary phrase, “pain as though one’s intestines had been torn apart,” must have been made for a sight like this.
His eyes, bloodshot from so much crying, were swollen, and his voice was so hoarse that he could barely speak.
Even those seeing Yi Yunjae for the first time could more than understand the depth of his feelings.
How deep his love for his mother must have been.
How desperately he must have longed for someone he would never see again.
The household servants, as well as mourners who had come only out of courtesy, were deeply moved with sympathy and wiped at their eyes.
Some cried with him, while many others were so touched that they reflected on their own conduct and felt ashamed.
The mourners spread stories of his virtue exactly as they had seen and heard them. Soon, everyone in Hubei Province praised Yi Yunjae with one voice.
They called him a filial son without equal under heaven.
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