“There isn't a person whose eyes wouldn't go wide at the sight of 100 silver taels. A martial artist who knows moderation when things are excessive is even rarer. I heard you fought to a draw against Escort Leader Pung Kang-ik in a sparring session?”
The pavilion master's eyes, as she looked at me, sparkled strangely, like a young girl who had found a pretty stone by a stream.
“Such martial ability, the shrewdness to deduce the truth by identifying the Mak Jade you chanced upon and the lullaby you overheard. The nerve to come find me and make a bold move. If I were to let such a rare talent slip away, I wouldn't deserve to sit in this branch master's seat.”
I was silently relieved. It was now certain that this was not the place I was going to die. Even so, I didn't want to jump at the pavilion master's offer.
I came back to my hometown because I was sick and tired of living as a swordsman. A job as a doorman at a brothel wasn't bad, but I didn't want to become a henchman for the Underworld Information Clan, killing people on command.
“Are you asking me to work for the Underworld Information Clan?”
“For a talent like Great Hero Jeong, the main branch would welcome you anytime.”
“I am no longer a wandering swordsman. I don't want to torment or kill anyone.”
“Things aren't always solved by killing someone. With strength, you can resolve matters with words alone.”
“But I don't want to be tied down to any place.”
As I tried to keep my distance, the pavilion master made an offer I couldn't refuse.
“Let's make it something like an honorary guest or a special invitation. When the main branch offers a job, you can decide whether to take it or not. I'm sure you've done this sort of thing often?”
“Like the house guests staying in the detached houses?”
“It's similar.”
I could see no way out. For now, I avoided giving a direct answer and changed the subject.
"Did Bang Jo-in know this place was part of the Underworld Information Clan?"
The pavilion master shook her head.
“There was no reason to tell him. Not to a ruffian who eavesdrops on others' conversations like a rat to extort money. Even at the Dragon Sky Escort Agency, only the agency master and a few others know.”
What made Bang Jo-in think he could extort money from the pavilion master? Was he blinded by greed and emboldened by the fact that the Dragon Sky Escort Agency was in charge of security at the Deep Fragrance Pavilion? In any case, the pavilion master gave Bang Jo-in the silver taels right there instead of silencing him.
Without even needing to call the house guests from the detached houses, Bang Jo-in would have been a dead man if the pavilion master's guard had simply drawn his sword. The pavilion master probably wanted to kill Bang Jo-in.
The birth mother of a promising provincial graduate scholar who had passed the provincial exam turned out to be a courtesan of the lowest class. If this fact came to light, it would be a huge obstacle to her son's future, even if she herself didn't care.
He might fail the metropolitan exam for some unknown reason or be excluded from the official posts given to those who passed the provincial exam. Even the prefectural city official, who seemed to be on friendly terms with the pavilion master, might turn his back, not wanting to give his political rivals an opening.
Fearing such a catastrophe, the pavilion master hadn't sought out her son for a long time. So why did she suppress her murderous intent toward Bang Jo-in and show patience? It didn't seem to be because of her relationship with the Dragon Sky Escort Agency.
The death of a single escort could be quietly covered up. Perhaps she intended to leave no loose ends. The circumstances of Bang Jo-in eavesdropping on their conversation were too perfect to be a coincidence.
What was the guard doing that he couldn't stop Bang Jo-in from entering the detached house? Did he step away so as not to disturb the two of them?
If, by some chance, Bang Jo-in had been instigated by someone trying to get leverage on the branch master of the Underworld Information Clan, then simply killing him wouldn't be the end of it. Was it with such cold calculation that she let Bang Jo-in go and had him watched?
For the Underworld Information Clan, it wouldn't be difficult to monitor Bang Jo-in's every move as if he were in the palm of their hand. Even if the Black Night Gang ruled the back alleys of the Western Village, the eyes and ears of the Underworld Information Clan were everywhere.
Why did she give him silver taels again when he came back? Did she decide it wasn't the right time to act? Or was her plan to put him at ease for now and deal with him quietly outside later?
It seemed she would answer readily if I asked, but I kept my mouth shut. Bang Jo-in was dead anyway. I didn't know if anyone would hold a grudge over his death and seek revenge, but it certainly wouldn't be me.
Prying any deeper would be crossing a line. It seemed healthier for me to put aside my curiosity about a foolish gambler who had hastened his own demise because he couldn't control his greed. I tucked the banknote and the token into my clothes and stood up.
The pavilion master also rose, a look of relief on her face. I was about to bid her farewell when I realized this was the perfect opportunity. I had just remembered what the Underworld Information Clan did.
After a moment's hesitation, I asked the pavilion master, who was looking at me with a puzzled expression.
"By any chance, can I also make a request to the Underworld Information Clan?"
“Of course. What is it you wish for?”
"I'm looking for someone. A resident who used to live here in the Western Village."
“Please, sit.”
I sat down again, facing the pavilion master, this time as a client before the branch master of the Underworld Information Clan. I mentioned the names and ages of Sister Soso, her uncle, and her aunt. The pavilion master took out a brush and ink and meticulously recorded the information on a piece of paper.
When I described their faces, she dipped a fine brush in ink and drew a few swift strokes on the rice paper, then held it up. In an instant, the face of a youthful girl was drawn.
"Is this similar?"
“Her chin is a bit slimmer, and her eyes are a little larger. Her nose is sharper too…”
I compared it to my memory of Sister Soso and corrected it one detail at a time. The pavilion master's drawing skills were so extraordinary that one could believe she was a painter. Suddenly, I remembered the wanted sketch that Won Seo-gang had shown me.
The style was similar, yet slightly different. The pavilion master hadn't drawn that one, but I suspected it must have been commissioned by another branch of the Underworld Information Clan. Had Won Seo-gang also sat in this very spot, made some sort of deal with the pavilion master, and settled in as a house guest?
After a few revisions, new sketches of Sister Soso, her uncle, and her aunt were completed on fresh rice paper. They looked just as I remembered them from my childhood, but I felt a sense of hopelessness. Ten years had passed.
There was no way Sister Soso still looked like this. I didn't even want to imagine how much her aunt and uncle might have changed after weathering the hardships of life.
“... Can you find them?”
“Since we know their names and where they're from, it might take some time, but it should be possible. Assuming they are still alive.”
If they are alive... A bitter reality I could never accept might be waiting for me. Still, I wanted to know.
If Sister Soso's family was no longer of this world, I wanted to find their graves and at least hold a memorial service. If someone had harmed them, I would chase the culprit to the ends of the earth, be it the Western Regions or the Southern lands, and make them pay in blood.
“How much is the fee?”
“A retainer fee of 5 silver taels is required upfront. This fee is non-refundable, even if you cancel the request. For the remaining balance, we charge based on the costs incurred, but we don't charge if we fail to complete the request.”
“I certainly hope I'll be paying the final balance.”
I took out one of the banknotes I had just received, handed it over, and got 5 silver taels back in change. "I'll be counting on you.”
“I will do my best.”
By the time I came outside, it was the middle of the night. The guard, who had been looking at the moon, approached me. I followed the guard across the garden, keeping a slight distance.
Watching the back of a flawless master, I naturally thought of my short but intense battle with Won Seo-gang last night. What would happen if I fought this guard? I imagined him wielding a sword while moving with those nimble steps.
Most wandering swordsmen use a saber. It's easier to handle. Wandering swordsmen who used a sword were those who had properly learned the sword technique, whether from a fallen orthodox sect or elsewhere.
The swordsmen I had encountered so far preferred thrusting over slashing. Won Seo-gang's sword technique was like that too. A saber could thrust, but it was less powerful than a sword.
The varying thickness and weight of the blade and spine, designed to maximize speed and destructive power in a slash, actually became a hindrance in a thrust, upsetting the balance. A sword, on the other hand, had a symmetrical weight and shape on both sides of the blade, centered on its sharp tip.
It was difficult to put weight into a slash, but it was perfectly suited for thrusting. Bang Jo-in had been killed by a single thrust to the heart. If the culprit had used a saber, they would have simply lopped off his head or made a large gash across his chest.
No matter how bright the moon was, accurately piercing the palm-sized heart of a moving target was a technique only a perversely skilled swordsman would use. At that point, I was certain. It wasn't Lee Yun-jae who killed Bang Jo-in.
It was this man. The events of that day played out in my mind. After squandering his money at the gambling den, Bang Jo-in went back to the pavilion master and extorted more money.
Lee Yun-jae, who had been secretly listening from outside, was enraged, lost his senses, and followed him to kill him. Even if he was third-rate, Bang Jo-in was a martial artist who lived by the sword. A scholar who had spent his entire life reading books was no match for him.
Stabbing him through the heart in a single blow was out of the question. Lee Yun-jae, who had charged with a sword, was easily subdued. Since he knew the relationship between Lee Yun-jae and the pavilion master, Bang Jo-in probably didn't draw his broadsword.
He likely swung his sheathed sword to knock the blade away and kicked him to the ground. In the process, Lee Yun-jae lost the Mak Jade he always carried with him. The guard, arriving a step behind, must have seen Bang Jo-in harming Lee Yun-jae and intervened, mercilessly piercing his heart.
Perhaps he had been itching to kill him all along to eliminate a future problem, even though he had been kept alive on the pavilion master's orders. When a suitable pretext arose, he might have seized the opportunity and acted decisively. In any case, it must have been an unplanned killing.
If there had been a plan to silence Bang Jo-in, there would have been no reason to give him silver taels twice. And they wouldn't have shed blood at the Deep Fragrance Pavilion. It would have been much cleaner to wait for him to leave the gambling den and finish him off in a back alley.
Or they would have killed him within the walls of the detached house. While the guard was taking the frozen Lee Yun-jae back to the detached house, a maid discovered the abandoned body and screamed. After that, I came running.
As my thoughts reached this point, I stopped walking without realizing it. The guard turned around.
“What is it?”
"You seem to be a tremendous master. By any chance, do you use a Swift Sword?"
A smile appeared on the guard's pale face for the first time. It was a faint smile, like moonlight reflecting on a blade, making it hard to read his thoughts.
“You seem to be a formidable swordsman yourself. Since it looks like we'll be seeing each other often, let's introduce ourselves. My name is Geuk-hwan.”
Geuk-hwan revealed his name while cupping his fist in a salute. I also joined my left palm and right fist.
“I'm Jeong Dae-cheon.”
Perhaps because I had earned the pavilion master's approval, Geuk-hwan's words and attitude toward me were much softer than before. He escorted me to the gate, returned my willow blade, and even bid me farewell.
“Take care.”
* Now that I had a whopping 100 silver taels, there was no reason to be a doorman anymore. Still, out of consideration for my relationship with the escort agency, I worked for exactly one more month and quit on the day I received my monthly salary.
Jo Gyeong-jik tried to dissuade me a few times but eventually accepted my resignation. The mysterious black-clad masked man, rumored to have killed Bang Jo-in, was never caught. Just as the pavilion master had promised, I was never dragged away by the authorities.
The authorities, instead of wrongly accusing an innocent person, simply strengthened their patrols and dragged their feet until the case was quietly closed. The death of a third-rate gambler who had brought disaster upon himself by not knowing his limits was unceremoniously forgotten. The brothel prospered as before.
The provincial graduate scholar, Lee Yun-jae, never visited the Deep Fragrance Pavilion after the day Bang Jo-in died. I assumed he had probably returned to his home in Hubei Province to prepare for the metropolitan exam. I wasn't particularly curious, but about ten days later, I learned of Lee Yun-jae's whereabouts.
The conversation of the county magistrate's party, who had come to the Deep Fragrance Pavilion for entertainment, passed from mouth to mouth until it reached my ears. After returning to his hometown, Lee Yun-jae's mother suddenly passed away a few days later.
His mother, after losing her husband three years ago, was said to have lived solely for the son she had struggled to have. When her son passed the provincial exam, she was overjoyed and threw a grand feast, inviting neighbors, friends, and relatives.
She had basked in the joy and pride of a mother with a successful son, receiving the envy and jealousy of many, but that did not last long. She passed away in vain, without even getting to see her son embark on an official career and rise through the ranks. A healthy middle-aged woman with no particular illness died overnight.
It was the kind of thing gossipmongers would whisper about, but what truly became a hot topic was the supreme filial piety of the chief mourner. Who wouldn't be devastated by the death of a family member, but Lee Yun-jae was particularly extreme. He wailed so sorrowfully that onlookers were worried he might follow his deceased mother to the grave.
He wasn't crying out of formality; he sobbed in agony, wringing out his entire body. It was said that people even remarked, 'This must be what they mean by the pain of having one's intestines torn out.' He had cried so much that his bloodshot eyes were swollen shut, and his voice was so hoarse he couldn't speak properly.
Even those seeing Lee Yun-jae for the first time could more than guess the depth of his heartfelt grief. How special his affection for his mother had been. How agonizing was the heart-wrenching longing in the face of the fact that he could never see her again.
Not only the household servants but also the mourners who visited out of courtesy felt deep sympathy and compassion, wiping away their tears. Some among them shed tears with him, and it was said that many were deeply moved, reflecting on their own conduct with a sense of shame.
As the mourners spread the heartwarming story of what they had seen and heard with their own eyes, everyone in Hubei Province sang Lee Yun-jae's praises with one voice. Calling him a 'filial son' the likes of which the world had never seen.