The Martial Artist Who Came to Jingajang
Just as the two men were thinking of So-un, a group of martial artists appeared at the main gate of Jingajang.
One was an elderly man who looked like a Daoist immortal, with the bearing of one who had transcended the mundane world.
The others were young men around twenty years of age.
They wore white martial robes, neat and unblemished.
"From where do you come, and whom do you seek?"
The gatekeeper spoke first.
"I am called Hwang Hak, once secluded in Mount Huangshan.
I have heard there is a master residing in Jingajang.
I wished to meet him."
"A master?"
"Indeed."
The guards at the gate could not possibly know the full circumstances.
One of them ran at once to inform the head of the household, Jin Musik.
The other guided the visitors to seats by the entrance.
"We have sent word inside. Please wait a moment."
"Very well."
The old man called Hwang Hak was about to sit when his eyes fell upon a large stone engraved with the words "The First House Under Heaven."
Suddenly, he rose.
"That… who carved those characters?"
"They were written by a scholar."
"A scholar, you say?
Is he here? May I see him?"
"No.
Young Master Yu is not here at present.
He has gone far away."
They could not speak of his journey to the imperial capital to kill the Emperor.
The matter had already concluded, yet it could not be revealed.
"Has he gone far?"
"Yes. It has been some time.
Not quite a month, but more than half."
Because the visitors were martial artists, every word was chosen with care.
There would be no quarrel at Jingajang, yet past incidents made them cautious.
They answered only what they knew.
But the old man's interest lay elsewhere.
"With what was this carved? Surely… not with chisel and hammer?"
The gatekeeper had witnessed So-un carving the characters that day.
"I found it hard to believe myself… but it was done with a sword."
The old man's gaze sharpened.
"Who did it? That scholar you mentioned?"
"Yes. Though it may be difficult to believe, it was his doing."
Hwang Hak stepped closer to the stone and examined the inscription at close range.
Countless sword strokes formed clean, precise cuts.
Large characters had been completed as though written with a fine brush, carved through dozens of deliberate strikes.
Each stroke bore the full force of its maker, and that force gathered into a grand whole.
The old man raised his palm as if to imitate the horizontal and vertical lines.
Yet the sensation at his fingertips would not obey his will.
"Heh…"
The young man beside him stood respectfully, silent.
Jin Musik emerged from within.
Smiling brightly, he offered a formal clasped-fist salute.
"Greetings. I am Jin Musik, head of this household. May I ask what brings you here?"
"Greetings. I am called Hwang Hak, a mere unknown wanderer of the jianghu. I heard there is a master here in Jingajang and came to seek him."
"A master?"
"Indeed."
"I fear you are mistaken. This is not a martial clan of the jianghu. It is a military household. As you know, this is the ancestral home of General Jin Mugwang, who defeated the barbarians."
"Of course. I know well. I know it is the honored ancestral home of General Jin Mugwang."
"Then you understand that there is no master here of the sort you seek."
"Hoh… and yet you display that so boldly."
Jin Musik followed the direction of the old man's finger.
It pointed to the inscription: The First House Under Heaven.
So-un had made it.
Though the old man spoke as if some hidden mystery lay within the carving, to Jin Musik it was merely stone.
He recalled the rumors that it had been carved by sword.
He answered within the limits of what he could say.
"That was written by a scholar as a gesture honoring our family."
Hwang Hak's gaze deepened.
He brought his hands together in salute.
"That is the touch of a master. I wish to meet this scholar. I have heard he is a master who has reached the Realm of Transformation."
"I regret to say, sir, that he is not here."
"Yes, I have heard as much. Do you know when he will return?"
As the conversation lengthened, Jin Musik sensed persuasion would not be easy.
The old man showed no sign of retreat.
It was clear he intended to accomplish his purpose here.
"He has been gone for some time. There is no fixed date for his return."
"Hoh. Why such reluctance from the head of a great house? I only wish to exchange a few words. If he is absent, I will wait. Grant me but a small room."
He spoke as though claiming something already entrusted to him.
This is troublesome.
Though the estate was large, spare rooms were few.
With the ranks of the White Dragon Unit having grown, they had already exceeded capacity.
Even the corridors surrounding the training yard had been converted into living quarters.
There was no real space to spare.
Jin Musik's expression tightened.
"Our circumstances are not ample enough to properly host a great hero. You may find the conditions uncomfortable."
"I understand. I have heard the White Dragon Unit that defeated the barbarians has gathered here. Naturally, space must be tight. A room like those used by the soldiers will suffice. Do not trouble yourself."
If even a soldier's room would suffice, there was little excuse left to refuse.
"Though we cannot offer proper hospitality, we will receive you within. This way, please."
Jin Musik managed to clear one remaining room and escorted Hwang Hak to the guest hall.
After withdrawing briefly, he summoned the men from Cheonsan to inquire about Hwang Hak's identity.
The Divine Physician of Cheonsan had departed; only two remained.
The moment they heard the name Hwang Hak, their eyes widened.
"Head of House, he is regarded as one of the pillars of the martial world. If one were to name twenty supreme masters, he would surely be among them."
"This…"
Jin Musik felt his chest tighten.
Like a beast cornered in a narrow gap, he struggled for breath.
Why would such a man come here?
How should he inform his younger brother, Jin Mugwang?
When would So-un return?
Thoughts collided within him.
Jin Mugwang had lived his entire life keeping his distance from the martial world.