Once the prototype was finalized, the artisans found their rhythm, churning out mirrors with practiced speed. Sama Hyeon even crafted a massive version adorned with a golden calf and a golden pig at the corners, claiming it was a survival tribute for the Golden King.
Jin Cheon-hee had felt this before, but that master-disciple relationship was definitely not normal.
As the mirror workshop began full-scale operations, a visitor arrived.
“Young Pavilion Master, someone from the Gongsun clan is here.”
The guest was a woman clad in midnight silk, her face obscured by a black veil. Though she offered no name, the presence of Gongsun Yeong and Wang Gak-yeon flanking her like silent sentinels revealed her identity instantly. Man Seon, respecting her desire for anonymity, wisely chose not to announce her name aloud.
“It has been a long time.”
“Yes. It has.”
She offered a stiff fist-and-palm salute.
“I will cut to the chase. I am here to see the mirrors.”
Sama Hyeon grinned, his expression thick with feigned innocence. “Mirrors? Whatever do you mean?”
“There is no need to play games about what kind of mirror it is.”
Fair enough.
The Gongsun clan had maintained a symbiotic relationship with the White Qilin Medical Pavilion for a long time—not just since the recent war, but stretching back to the days of the Blue Jade. Given their technical prowess, they likely expected Cheon-hee to seek them out for a partnership, or perhaps the Tang Clan at the very least.
Instead, they had begun full-scale research with Sama Hyeon of the Golden Blood Chamber. It seemed the slight had driven her to come in person.
Sparks seemed to fly as Gongsun Hyeon and Sama Hyeon locked gazes. The air practically crackled with tension.
Both were figures who conducted business in the light and the shadows. Both possessed an intense curiosity for new artifacts and a profound obsession with profit.
“Allow me to show you the merchandise first,” Cheon-hee interjected.
Neither Gongsun Hyeon nor Sama Hyeon were amateur enough to let emotional grievances derail a deal. She was likely here to gauge Jin Cheon-hee’s true intentions and assess the future market landscape.
Phew… Still, I didn’t expect her to come herself, Cheon-hee thought, suppressing a sigh.
The manufacturing process remained a trade secret—Sama Hyeon’s life depended on it, after all. However, they could show the finished product as much as she liked. Cheon-hee gestured Gongsun Hyeon toward a large object draped in cloth.
“Please, unveil it.”
Her hands trembled slightly as she pulled away the fabric. Revealed beneath was a massive mirror, reflecting her face with perfect, terrifying clarity.
“……”
Gongsun Hyeon stared into the glass for a long moment before reaching out, leaving a faint fingerprint on the pristine surface. Finally, she spoke.
“It is glass.”
“Yes.”
“Ordinary glass usually has such poor cost-performance that other materials are preferable. But this…”
She closed her eyes, deep in thought. When she opened them again, her voice was resigned but calculating.
“I do not know what method you used, but rest assured, our distribution network is not inferior to the Golden Blood Chamber’s.”
“Wow. You wound me. Do you have any idea how many martial artists from the Gongsun Clan have borrowed money from us?”
Stop it. Stop the dick-measuring contest!
Jin Cheon-hee interjected quickly. “I had an opportunity to assist Sama Hyeon, so I stepped in as his sworn brother.”
“It must be due to the Golden King’s test.”
“…You know of it.”
“Yes. Those quick on the uptake, like myself, are already aware. Everyone is trying to influence the outcome in some form or another. It is, after all, a matter of who will control the dark money of the Central Plains.”
Gongsun Hyeon paused briefly before continuing. “Given the nature of the Thousand-Faced Fox, I never expected him to attempt a breakthrough with such a frontal assault. This must be your influence, Young Pavilion Master.”
“Hahaha…”
“The product is undeniably excellent. It is an item that will shift the paradigm. However, it will not be easy. The Unorthodox Factions have many alternative methods.”
“That is why I have asked the artisans to reside in the quarters behind the branch office until this matter is concluded. I have also increased the number of White Qilin guards.”
“That alone will not be enough.”
Cheon-hee inwardly agreed.
There were those who used the Golden King’s five thousand taels as business capital, those who squandered it on gambling, and those who used it to fund wars.
“We plan to sell them one by one to the wealthy lords of the Unorthodox Path, utilizing Sama Hyeon’s influence.”
Gongsun Hyeon nodded. “In that case, I shall handle sales to the government officials.”
“Ah… We cannot offer a high commission.”
She answered calmly. “I am aware. For this venture, I will do it for free.”
Sama Hyeon interjected, his tone teasing. “They say there is nothing in this world more expensive than something free.”
“Indeed. The Gongsun Clan will aid the Thousand-Faced Fox without charge today, and we will undoubtedly collect on this debt someday. Are you prepared for that?”
Hmm…
As his sworn elder brother, Cheon-hee worried, but this was Sama Hyeon’s domain. He was the one who chose this path, and he was the one who accepted the test. It was his life on the line.
Sama Hyeon narrowed his eyes, calculating. Then, he let out a hearty laugh.
“The Gongsun Clan is a prestigious Orthodox clan; surely you wouldn’t ask for something against the moral way. I accept!”
It was a subtle pressure tactic: I’ll take the free help, but don’t ask for anything crazy later.
Gongsun Hyeon didn’t back down, offering a soft, confident smile. “Do not worry. The Gongsun Clan always pursues the Orthodox Path. We are different from the Unorthodox factions.”
“Ah, is that so? What a relief.”
“Yes. We wouldn’t sell it like Red Jade, would we? We will naturally uphold the righteous path.”
“Ah, Red Jade. Yes, you know very well how the sales of Red Jade are going. The profits are always given to my sworn brother, feeding the many children of the Hundredfold Benevolence Foundation. I trust the Orthodox factions do at least that much?”
And so, feeding each other veiled insults, the partnership was formed.
Jin Cheon-hee, Sama Hyeon, Gongsun Hyeon.
The three people most obsessed with money in the entire Gangho had gathered in one place.
***
The Morning Assembly, where the great and small officials gathered.
Minister of Revenue Han Yi-jeong felt her soul draining away simply by existing in this space.
It wasn’t that she was zoning out because she wasn’t speaking. She had to constantly read the room, watching the other ministers and the Emperor. She also had to gauge the mood of her grandfather, the Admiral Eunuch, who stood beside the Emperor with his hands tucked into his sleeves, looking deceptively benign.
People said you get used to it, but does anyone really get used to this?
At least with her meager years of service, it was impossible.
Standing in this corner of hell, she felt as though someone had inserted a straw into her neck and was slurping out her life force—suck, suck.
Nursing a mood that could only be described as “absolute dogshit,” she prayed to the gods of heaven and earth for one thing only: Quitting Time.
And that her path home wouldn’t cross with her grandfather’s.
Her younger sister, who had married into a family in Wannong, sent letters hugging her pretty husband, whining, ‘Unni, I miss you so much. I hate this world where we have to have arranged marriages. I want home-cooked meals.’ Yet, according to intelligence reports, the girl was clearing two bowls of rice at every meal.
And whenever they had a late-night snack, her flower-boy husband would play music to set a romantic newlywed atmosphere.
She has no idea.
She had no idea whose heads her big sister had to chop off to send her to that marriage. Or what kind of contract she had to sign with their damn grandfather.
I want to go ho— Gyaaaaaaaaack!
She screamed like a pterodactyl inside her head, waiting for the end.
Even playing mental background music over the bickering of the officials didn’t help.
In this shitty world, a shitty assembly.
My country… bullshit… dog… shit… fuck… damn it…
The background music in her mind shifted from a calm flute to a furious seven-string zither solo.
In her imagination, she was already swinging a massive scimitar, lopping off heads left and right. The first head to fly would be that bastard, the Minister of Personnel.
That son of a bitch took all the rookies I carefully trained at the Ministry of Revenue with just three appeals… Die! Dieeeeeeeee!
Imagining his head tumbling to the floor cooled her anger slightly… No, it didn’t. Why was time moving so slowly?
I want to get off work! Aaaaaaah!!
“…Therefore, a tribute has arrived via the Young Pavilion Master of the White Qilin Medical Pavilion.”
“Ooh!”
Something massive covered in cloth was wheeled into the center of the assembly hall. The Emperor craned his neck in curiosity, his beaded crown rustling with the movement.
“Judging by the shape, it is a mirror. A mirror of that size is rare, but surely that alone is not enough to pique Our interest?”
Her grandfather, the Admiral Eunuch, commanded the eunuchs.
“What are you waiting for? Open it at once.”
When the silk cloth was pulled away, what was revealed was a mirror of absolute clarity, without a single blemish.
“Hmm?”
The Emperor made a peculiar expression as he looked down at the mirror. The noon sunlight reflecting off the glass struck the wall with dazzling intensity.
“This is different. Bring it closer.”
At his gesture, the eunuchs moved the mirror forward. Only then did Han Yi-jeong, half her soul having already departed, speak up.
“It is presumptuous to say, Your Majesty, but the visibility is extraordinary. This humble subject has never seen a mirror reflect so clearly.”
“Ho. Indeed. What principle allows it to be so clear?”
The ministers began to whisper their guesses.
“Judging by the material, it does not appear to use silver or copper.”
“It looks like… glass. But for glass to be this clear…”
Some ministers covered their faces.
Seeing one’s own face with perfect clarity evoked mixed feelings. If a mirror was slightly cloudy, liver spots or scars were less visible. But when it reflected one’s face with ruthless honesty, the problem was realizing you were uglier than you thought.
Conversely, there were officials who, pleased with their own reflections, straightened their backs and preened before the glass.
The Emperor mused, “They have created something truly amusing.”
“Indeed, Your Majesty.”
“Come to think of it, what of the inspection results for the White Qilin Medical Pavilion?”
He had already received the report, yet asking aloud meant he intended to bestow a reward.
Han Yi-jeong chimed in dutifully, “The initial reports are all true. I hear they have even discovered a method to remove smallpox scars in the interim.”
Of course, she knew that the “method” involved a bizarre application of a martial artist’s Sword Qi.
When she first received the report, she had stared at it for a long time, wondering if she had read it correctly.
Sword Qi symbolizes a martial artist’s life work. As Qi becomes a blade, and the blade becomes a visible aura, one can glimpse the martial path and bloody road the warrior has walked.
The Supreme Purity Scattering Hands of Wudang are heavy yet clear, engaging in Yin and Yang. The Heavenly Demon Divine Art of the Demonic Cult paints a path of domination that deviates from the human Way. The Zhuge Clan contains the Five Elements, and the Namgung Clan wraps lightning around their swords.
And here was a man attempting skin peeling with it.
Grandfather once said: To the Young Pavilion Master of White Qilin, martial arts are merely a means, and the sword is just a tool for survival. His true intent is, ultimately, saving lives.
Could this truly be called Martial Arts?
No one doubted that Chivalry existed in his heart. His insane track record proved that much.
But what of the Martial Way?
What is the essence of Martial Arts?
Since quitting time was still far off, her distracting thoughts took wing and soared.
After all, the Murim was a distant story for a bureaucrat like her.