Flowing Water, Floating Clouds

It was only long after the Taiyi Divine Sect had withdrawn that the extent of the damage could be confirmed.

Nearly thirty casualties, including Escort Chief Bang, and two wagons had collapsed beyond repair.

“There’s still one mountain pass left before Jukpyeong Inn… this is serious.”

Ma Cheong-ok had lived through many trials, but rarely faced such a predicament.

This was also his first time experiencing the terror of the Taiyi Divine Sect firsthand.

The image of Ma Jingun charging like a bull haunted even him, a man hardened by decades in the martial world.

“We should abandon the two wagons. The cargo isn’t much—if we move some to the wagons with the prisoners, we can manage.”

Yong Jo’s suggestion was the best option.

Fortunately, the wheels were sturdy enough to hold forty people per wagon, so making it the rest of the way wouldn’t be an issue.

“What was done with Escort Chief Bang’s body?”

“It was too gruesome to leave… we gave him as proper a burial as we could.”

Ma Cheong-ok’s nose stung—he had treasured that subordinate.

“But, sir…”

Yong Jo hesitated, unable to speak outright.

Though Bang Inbeom had died by Jeok-woo’s blade, the last image of the two together lingered in his mind.

“No… it can’t be.”

Reading his thoughts, Ma Cheong-ok shook his head.

If Bang Inbeom had truly been a spy, he would’ve struck the central wagons when the chance was perfect.

“Only the three of us know what’s in the wagons. That’s why the Taiyi dogs came up empty.”

Ma Cheong-ok’s reasoning was sound, so Yong Jo held his tongue.

Something still felt off, but he buried it for now.

‘Even if it wasn’t Bang Inbeom, there’s a spy among us. I’ll have to watch more closely.’

Under Yong Jo’s command, the porters split the tribute from the ruined wagons.

They were already burdened, and now with more added, it was killing work.

But compared to the escorts, none of the porters were seriously hurt, and that was at least a blessing.

“Sect Leader Go, are you all right?”

While checking the men for departure, Yong Jo found Go In-gyeong sitting on the ground, staring blankly at the sky.

He pitied him—so young, and facing such horrors for the first time.

“You must regain your composure. We’ll rest half a day at Jukpyeong Inn, then march two full days to Yeonhyang. I understand your feelings, but don’t forget—you are responsible.”

Yong Jo clicked his tongue at In-gyeong’s dazed silence.

But they couldn’t sit idle forever.

Soon he gathered the escort chiefs, reviewed the situation, and made preparations to depart.

With only about two hours left, time was tight.

‘It’s my fault. Because I rashly provoked Jeok-woo, good men died.’

The only relief was that the Eminent Mountain disciples had escaped with minor injuries.

But In-gyeong knew it was only thanks to Bang Inbeom’s warning.

Without it, his brothers would’ve been crushed by the falling wagons.

“We depart shortly.”

Through In-gyeong’s blurred vision came a figure burdened with heavy loads.

It was the young man who had always carried the guards’ food and baggage at the vanguard.

“Understood.”

Thinking he could delay no longer, In-gyeong began tidying up around him.

Whatever else, he had to finish his task.

The tearing self-reproach in his chest was his alone to bear.

“……”

Suddenly feeling a gaze, In-gyeong lifted his head.

Even after delivering his words, the youth lingered, staring down at him expressionlessly.

Dark clouds veiled the dawn moon, leaving no glint in his black eyes.

“So do not act recklessly again.”

Leaving only those cold words, the youth vanished back into the crowd.

In that brief moment their eyes met, In-gyeong felt suffocated.

Though not overt, he sensed some hidden anger from him.

‘He is no ordinary man.’

In-gyeong’s eyes followed his back.

That black figure walked lightly, burdened with loads larger than himself, and seemed strangely familiar.

‘Ah! The man from the inn.’

Though he had worn a disguise then, In-gyeong was sure.

That gait, that tone, and that unique aura.

Just a moment ago, he was a savior—yet now, his identity was utterly unknown.

‘He’s hiding something.’

As he mounted his horse, In-gyeong’s mind filled with one thought.

Before this mission ends, he would uncover that man’s true identity.

It took a full day to prepare before setting out for Yeonhyang.

Since only Ma Cheong-ok and Yong Jo managed the wagons, the escort chiefs and guards had more time to rest.

With six dead and twelve badly injured—nearly twenty men gone—the procession felt noticeably diminished.

“The road to Yeonhyang has many side paths. There may be ambushes—extreme caution is needed.”

When Yong Jo gathered the escort chiefs and gave his speech, their faces all darkened.

They had watched three escort chiefs, including Escort Chief Bang, die screaming before their eyes.

Thinking today might be their last drained them of spirit.

“Haven’t we always risked our lives? Should anything happen, the Escort Bureau will care for your families—so see this through to the end.”

Even as he offered hollow reassurance, Yong Jo was just as afraid.

The demonic sight of Jeok-woo splitting Bang Inbeom in two haunted him still.

He had thought himself second to none with a sword—what a delusion, shattered in an instant.

“Is there truly no other support? With our skill, how can we stop the Taiyi Divine Sect?”

“We leave this to the Eminent Mountain youths—where are the Five Great Mountain Swords?”

At last, one escort chief dared to speak—and others quickly followed.

Why weren’t the masters of the Five Great Mountain Swords here for such a mission?

Even the Yellow Stone Sect, long-time allies of Unpyeong Escort Bureau, were nowhere to be seen.

“Hm… the Taiyi Divine Sect’s ambush was irresistible. Besides, this mission was entrusted by the Imperial Court to our Bureau alone. It’s only right we complete it ourselves…”

Before Yong Jo could even finish, the escort chiefs’ complaints burst out.

Imperial duty be damned—first they had to survive.

Not one of them thought his life expendable.

“I will go with you.”

A clear, almost smiling voice filled the inn.

The man Ma Cheong-ok led in wore a white robe, hair neatly tied, a young scholar in his prime.

His fair face made him look like the son of a noble house.

“I am Baek Hyeongjin, disciple of the Emptiness Dhuta Sect. At my master’s call, I arrived in Jukpyeong at dawn to await you. Moreover, a master from the Yellow Stone Sect will join at the next outpost. Yesterday’s tragedy will not repeat.”

At Hyeongjin’s introduction, hope finally flickered across their faces.

For what was the Emptiness Dhuta Sect? Strongest of the Five Great Mountain Swords, home to Master Jo Yang, the Martial Alliance Lord.

And with the Yellow Stone Sect joining—it was reassuring beyond measure.

That their rebellion was calmed by one man’s presence made Ma Cheong-ok feel awkward.

He too feared the next Taiyi Divine Sect ambush, but as master of Gyeong Nation’s greatest escort bureau, his pride smarted.

“Bureau Master Ma, my master apologizes deeply that he cannot come in person. Please forgive him.”

Hyeongjin bowed with utmost courtesy, as if sensing Ma Cheong-ok’s discomfort.

Faced with such manners, Ma Cheong-ok couldn’t complain.

He forced a smile and explained the next itinerary.

Though only six years older than In-gyeong, Hyeongjin’s very presence was worlds apart from the Eminent Mountain youths.

“Why did they strike the center wagons in particular?”

To Hyeongjin’s question, Ma Cheong-ok answered casually.

“Isn’t it common thought? Important things are placed in the middle. Normally they’d be right—but thanks to Alliance Lord Jo’s idea to leave the center empty, we were spared.”

Hyeongjin smiled and nodded, but his thoughts were entirely different.

He had heard: there was a spy among them.

Even if he didn’t know exactly what was in which wagon, he surely knew Jo Yang was involved.

‘If it were me, I wouldn’t have touched only the middle two.’

A meaningful smile crossed Hyeongjin’s face.

The Taiyi Divine Sect’s temporary hideout was a small ruin between Jukpyeong and Yeonhyang.

Hidden deep in the forest, guarded outside, only four gathered inside.

“Is Jeok-woo all right?”

At Seomun’s question, Hyunjin only nodded toward the table.

Jeok-woo’s treasured blade, Virtuous Conduct—once his very symbol—lay broken in two.

Hands bloodied from breaking it himself, he had retreated to a room and not emerged all day.

“He’ll need time.”

Ma Jingun, polishing his spear Mita, sighed deeply.

Even for him, who hid emotions well, Bang Inbeom’s death weighed heavy.

For Jeok-woo—his only blood kin—it was unimaginable.

“And what of Yun-seon?”

Worry brimmed in Hyunjin’s eyes.

It would now be even harder for him to escape the enemy’s camp.

She considered stealing Yun-seon away early if need be.

If Seomun allowed, she would act without hesitation.

“That too is his fate.”

She had known, yet hearing Seomun’s cold answer, she couldn’t endure.

At last, all the pent-up emotions burst out.

“Eldest Sahyung, what are we doing all this for? My life, fine—but what great cause justifies sacrificing family?”

She knew the answer even now.

But if she didn’t vent, it felt like she’d weep herself dry.

Fleeing Seomun’s sad eyes, she ran outside.

She would return, but for now she had to escape this suffocating reality.

“And you—are you all right?”

At last, Seomun turned to Jingun.

The two, together longest, had long since stopped asking such things.

Respect had forged an unspoken pact.

Knowing why his elder broke the taboo, Jingun indulged him this once.

“Do not waver. Think only of your duty.”

At Jingun’s reply, Seomun gave a wry smile.

What better comfort could there be?

So long as his brothers remained, he could only press forward.

That was the best he could do, as Eldest Senior Brother.

Finally Seomun rose and went to Jeok-woo’s door.

He pressed his ear to the crack—silence, as if even breath had stopped.

“Jeok-woo…”

Seomun’s tender voice carried a trace of tears.

He was certain Jeok-woo was listening, so he offered words of comfort.

He wanted to spare him self-blame.

“Do you know what the name Hak-yuu¹ means?”

“……”

It was on some half-forgotten day.

In youth, Seomun had asked his uncle why he made a technique so full of death.

Inbeom had answered with the happiest smile.

“‘Yu’ means to wander freely, ‘U’ to live. I no longer even remember what my great cause was. I only fulfill the duties before me. So when the day comes I can lay everything down, I wish to leave free as a crane. Perhaps that is my true cause.”

Seomun recounted that day and added:

“You’ve fulfilled Uncle’s dream. So don’t blame yourself.”

No sooner had he finished than Jeok-woo’s wailing began.

He cried as though the world itself were ending—bitterly, endlessly.

수류운공 (水流雲空), Flowing Water, Floating Clouds:

Ephemeral, unattainable, transient.