Chương 31: Spirit Money

Smack. As Patriarch Im continued reaching for the chest, the envoy slapped the man's hand away with enough force to leave a bruise.

"You overestimate your authority, Patriarch. I was ordered to deliver this silver to the widow of Han Sa-ryang. Now, I will ask you again: where is Lady Im So-hee?" The Patriarch tried to massage the pain out of his hand, but his eyes never moved from the small fortune resting on the courtyard floor.

"Captain, please! There is no need for such hostility." Still rubbing his hand, the Patriarch gave the man a pleading smile.

"I only wanted to spare you the burden of a long journey. The roads south are treacherous this time of year; the bridges are in disrepair, and the path is plagued by bandits. Leave the chest with me, and I will personally ensure every last tael is delivered to her new estate." The envoy stared at the sniveling nobleman. He recognized a thief when he saw one. Without breaking eye contact, the Captain raised a single, gauntleted hand above his head, made a fist, and then sharply lowered it.

"Dismount!" In near-perfect unison, the twenty cavalrymen surrounding the courtyard swung down from their saddles. The clatter of weapons and armor sent a jolt of genuine terror through Patriarch Im's spine.

"Very well," the envoy announced, folding his arms across his chest.

"If you don't want us traveling to her, we will remain here. You may send a messenger to summon your sister to this estate." Patriarch Im's jaw dropped.

"Wait, you…here? For how long?"

"Until she arrives. We have twenty men and as many warhorses. You will supply grain for our horses, fresh meat for our evening meals, the best wine you have on hand, and your finest guest quarters. We will wait as long as it takes." A cold sweat broke out across Patriarch Im's forehead. His eyes darted frantically from the heavily armored soldiers to the giant, hungry warhorses tearing up his manicured courtyard.

The Im family were minor nobility; feeding twenty men and their mounts in such a luxurious manner would quickly bankrupt him.

"N-No…no, that won't be necessary!" Patriarch Im stammered, frantically waving his hands in the air as if trying to block an imaginary advance by the soldiers.

"I... I misremembered the state of the roads! Wait, no…what I meant to say is…" The Patriarch gulped, trying desperately to think of a way to get out of this quagmire.

"My sister is…but a woman! And one who is currently caring for a small child. Given the dangerous state of the roads, the journey would be treacherous for her. Whereas, I'm sure, for mighty warriors such as yourselves, it would be…" The envoy raised a single eyebrow.

"Where is she?"

"A-A few days' ride south! In a small silk-weaving village just outside the borders of Qufu. She is married to a merchant named Gu. Gu Jin-ho! He runs the largest dyeing house in the village. Anyone there can point you to the Gu family estate!" The envoy studied the terrified nobleman's face, searching for any trace of a lie. Finding none, he gave another quick hand signal. Once again in near-perfect unison, the Tai-shan cavalrymen re-mounted their horses.

The two soldiers flanking the Captain effortlessly hoisted the cedar chest back off the ground and carried it back to the supply horses, before joining their brethren. The envoy swung himself up into his saddle and looked down at Patriarch Im, who seemed visibly relieved.

"Qufu," the Captain repeated, his hand resting casually on the pommel of his Jik-do.

"If we ride south and discover you have misled us, Patriarch Im, we will return. And I assure you... we will not be polite guests." With that, the envoy pulled on his reins. The thunder of dozens of iron-shod hooves echoed through the estate one last time as the Tai-shan cavalry rode out – leaving Patriarch Im standing alone in his own empty courtyard, just thankful that they had gone.

Four hundred miles away, in the depths of the Imperial Library of Bianjing, Yan Shu was sitting on the floor – surrounded by towering stacks of recently retrieved scrolls. He really needed to leave and start packing for the trip, but this seemed equally important. His master's orders had been very clear: travel to Mt. Tai and use his brush to appease the Sect Leader. The success of the Survey Team depended on keeping Kang Hyeon-je placated and cooperative.

Yan Shu was excited about the assignment, and eager to leave the boring routine of the Capital to explore the wider world. But he refused to walk into a warlord's domain blind. So, for the past hour he had been digging through the archives, doing his best to map the recent political landscape of Shandong. The young poet unrolled a recent Imperial report he'd found, which detailed the assassination of a Salt and Iron Commissioner. It was a fascinating read – a heroic battle. A tragic end.

Clear, compelling evidence, laid out in a way that made the conclusions inescapable. What could have been a diplomatic nightmare had been handled with grace and competence. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Yan Shu traced his finger down to the seals at the bottom. The primary one belonged to the local city Magistrate. He cocked his head, feeling impressed; the man seemed to be quite talented. It was a shame he was wasting away in some backwater city.

The young Collator began rummaging through the piles of scrolls he'd constructed. Surely that same Magistrate had filed some other reports he could look at. It would be interesting to see if he was always this thorough! Ten days after the Tai-shan cavalry left the Im estate, the late afternoon sun was once again watching over Chae-ha and Mu-cheon as they sparred in the brisk mountain air." I-ju-do," Chae-ha declared.

"Silk-whip Sweep!" The young girl tugged, her confidence high thanks to a few prior successes. But her timing was slightly late; although the end of her panel had successfully curled around Mu-cheon's heel, it had also become trapped under his boot. Chae-ha only succeeded in yanking herself off-balance. Hopping frantically to try and remain upright, she let go and began flailing her arms to try and stabilize, giving Mu-cheon a chance to catch her wrist.

It was both a way to steady her and a declaration that she'd been caught.

"I know it feels bad, but that one was close, little sister. You're getting the hang of it." Chae-ha pouted slightly, before allowing a soft smile in return.

"I'll get it next time, senior brother. Good opportunities are presenting themselves, now that the new Phantom Steps are working better." Mu-cheon scratched his head.

"I'm still not sure what to do about the eleventh one. It really looks like you're standing up. In theory I can stop it by swinging vertically, but vertical slashes are so bad against all the other ones…"

"That's the idea. I should probably make a few more like that, to force you to vary your swings more. My success rate has been going up again now that you've started worrying about that one."

"Yeah. I guess I just need to stop hesitating. Thinking isn't really my strong su–""Han Chae-ha," a voice from behind them interrupted.

"You've been summoned to the Obsidian Palace." The young Inspector turned. The attendant had approached silently, surprising both of them. The man looked unassuming; his hands were neatly folded in his sleeves, and his short, wrinkly face was lost beneath an enormous, bushy mustache. Chae-ha nodded.

"Understood." After a moment, she began walking towards the man. Mu-cheon turned to follow her, but the attendant raised a gnarled hand.

"The Sect Leader has asked for you to remain here, Young Master. Apparently this concerns her family." The soft smile on Chae-ha's face slowly disappeared, replaced by an emotionless stare. Although there was no outwards sign, her heart skipped a beat, and the rhythm of her steps changed from a casual walk to a deliberate, purposeful stride. Unable to defy the Sect Leader's orders, and hating himself for it, Mu-cheon watched her go. The Sect Leader's private study was as ominous as ever.

Kang Hyeon-je sat behind his basalt desk, his face only occasionally illuminated by the flickering light. A small box with a piece of paper on top of it was arranged conspicuously on his desk.

"I have news for you, Inspector," the Sect Leader said by way of greeting, his expression unreadable.

"The men we sent to carry the apology you requested for your mother have returned." He paused.

"Unfortunately, it seems she will not be able to attend the funeral." Chae-ha's mouth went dry.

"Did she say why, Sect Leader?"

"It seems traveling to honor another man would be somewhat embarrassing for her new husband. Also, she apparently has a new baby to care for, which adds further difficulty." Chae-ha froze. The words echoed in her ears. Perfectly logical words. But impossible ones.

"Your mother accepted our apology, and she sent you a letter, along with this box. You may come and take them." Mechanically, Chae-ha walked forwards and took the items off the Sect Leader's desk. She bowed before exiting the room.

"With your leave, Sect Leader." Hyeon-je nodded permission for her to leave. As Chae-ha walked back to her room carrying the leatherbound box and the letter, she could feel herself starting to unravel. Her steps slowly became faster and faster, until she was almost running. Her lower lip began to tremble. She barely made it back to her room and closed the door before the mask cracked completely. The young girl slammed her fist into the edge of her desk so hard it drew blood. Stupid.

Chae-ha had never felt this stupid. Somehow, some part of her had always thought that time must have stopped on the day her father died. That, like her, her mother must still be in stasis – trapped in that moment, just waiting for someone to come and free her. But of course she wasn't. Five years had passed! Any normal person would have moved on. Any normal person… Chae-ha slammed her fist into the desk again. Obviously, there was no family reunion waiting for her at the end of her revenge.

So why had she ever believed otherwise? It was completely illogical. It was stupid. And yet, she had somehow never thought to question it. Tears fell freely from her face, staining the letter until she pulled away. The young girl huddled up in the corner of her room and sobbed, feeling angry at herself and isolated from the world. She cried until her chest ached. When the tears finally stopped, she looked up, her eyes puffy but fierce. She would face her father's funeral alone. There was no other choice.

Almost unbidden, her left hand reached up to touch the phoenix cuff still in her hair. Maybe… not entirely alone. The thought helped to stabilize her. Wiping the remnants of the tears from her eyes, she gathered her courage and picked up the letter from her mother. My Dearest Chae-ha, For the last five years, I have been told I married a fool who brought his house to ruin. But now, I can finally look back on our years together without shame.

What you have accomplished is nothing short of a miracle, and I thank you for that. But even so, I cannot come to the mountain. I have a new life now, a good husband, and a baby boy who knows nothing of the martial world. I will not bring the shadow of the Jianghu back to their doorstep. Regarding the Sect Leader's silver, I used most of it to buy these. Please, take them to your father's grave and burn them in place of spirit money for me. Let the smoke bring freedom to his soul.

And in case it still needs it, to yours, too. Im So-hee Setting the letter down, Chae-ha opened the box and gasped. What lay inside was the last thing she had ever expected to see. Promissory notes. She picked up one of them, running her fingers over it to make sure it was real. These were the literal instruments of her father's debt, stamped with his seal and marked with the Black Ink Consortium's logo. It wasn't some abstract concept that had brought her family to ruin; it was this exact collection paper and ink.

These slips of paper had killed her father. They were the records of his borrowings. Without them, there was no debt. Chae-ha put the note down. Maybe her mother wasn't as detached as she'd thought. As the young Inspector stared at the collection of papers lying on the desk, her feelings of melancholy slowly gave way to dark excitement. These would be very satisfying to burn.