Chapter Fourteen: Ambitions Stirring in the Court and Beyond (Part One)

Seeing that the group did not seem to harbor any ill intentions, everyone paused where they stood.

The leader, a man in his early forties, smiled warmly and kindly. He introduced himself, claiming to be the master of the largest Martial Sect in the city.

“Our sect has long heard of the heroic feat of the young hero from the Left Bank, who faced armies alone, and of the courageous resistance of the Evening Glow Sect against the tyrannical King Chen. We've always wished to make your acquaintance, but being in Korea, I thought we might never have the chance. Who would have guessed we’d meet at last! I hear your sect is heading north, so allow me to offer some advice. The Black Wolf Army in the north resides in the land of barbarians; what prospects can you have there? We are all martial practitioners—if you would honor me, why not stay in this city? I will personally handle all the matters of founding your sect and anything else you require; merely ask. Your deeds are known not only to our sect but even in the royal court. The city governor wishes fervently to befriend you, but being a scholar rather than a warrior, he fears you might look down on him and thus dared not come in person, so he entrusted me to convey his regard.”

Most among the Evening Glow Sect were moved, for they truly looked down upon the barbarian lands of the north. Korea was not perfect, but it was, of course, far more civilized than the wild territories. They all turned their eyes to Baiyue, hoping she would decide.

But Bu Jingxian spoke, “To be frank, we are heading north because of an invitation from an old friend. We are merely guests there and may not linger long. At present, we hurry for fear of missing our appointed time. Though we are honored by the governor’s regard, we dare not delay and must wait until we return from the north to pay our respects.”

The leader was visibly disappointed.

“May I ask whom you seek in the northern tribes?”

The group worried Bu Jingxian would not have an answer, but he responded, “The Black Wolf’s main tribe—at the camp of Da Luo Bi, the guard named Yingluo.”

“So that’s how it is. Then I dare not delay you further. When you return from the north, please do inform us, so I may fulfill my duty as host.”

“Your sect’s generous regard will not be forgotten!”

The group watched as the Evening Glow Sect’s carriages left, only dispersing once they were out of sight.

This delighted the members of the Evening Glow Sect. They had grown accustomed to being respected, but had endured much humiliation in recent times. Now, at last, they could hold their heads high, and all felt a surge of joy.

Baiyue had known Bu Jingxian would not agree, would never be content to serve under a mere city governor.

“You say it so easily—Black Wolf’s main tribe, Da Luo Bi’s guard, Yingluo…”

“That wasn’t fabricated. Korea and the Black Wolf tribe are allied; those of high rank in the Black Wolf tribe are not unknown in Korea. There truly is a guard named Yingluo in Da Luo Bi’s camp,” Bu Jingxian explained. “I once had a senior disciple who spoke of the Black Wolf tribe.”

“Are we going to seek him?”

“No. Not only will we not see him, but we’ll pretend not to know him.”

“Why?”

“To enter the Black Wolf tribe, we must be bold! Success depends on ourselves; there’s no need to involve others. To be honest, though that disciple was Da Luo Bi’s son, he was never favored and can neither help us nor afford to be implicated.”

Baiyue finally understood. Baixing, however, was curious about the meaning of “boldness.”

“The Black Wolf tribe is an alliance of hundreds of clans, where the law of the jungle prevails—power is everything. The ways of patience and waiting for opportunity only lead to unending humiliation and ruin. They see restraint as weakness and leave no mercy when oppressing others. So we must be bold, swiftly establishing our foundation for survival.”

Baiyue saw his confidence and guessed he had a plan.

Along the journey, Baixing jested and played, boasting that since practicing Bu Jingxian’s internal arts, her strength had greatly increased and she longed to lift a thousand-pound cauldron. Baiyue asked Bu Jingxian when was best to cultivate these arts daily.

“The timing isn’t important. This internal art is fierce and domineering—when your meridians ache, stop. I have a special method for practicing it. For example, while sitting as we are now, your mind can wander, but devote a thread of thought to slowly guiding energy through the meridians. Though it seems slower than meditation, it doesn't hinder other activities. In less than half a day, your meridians will reach their limit, and your daily practice will be complete.”

They had never heard of internal arts being practiced this way and quickly tried while asking questions, but often lost that thread of guiding thought, causing the energy to return to the core and their efforts to fail. They took it as a fun way to pass the tedious hours in the carriage, and after several days’ attempts, Baiyue was the first to master it. Baixing learned two days later, owing to her difficulty in focusing on two things at once.

The caravan sped along, and the scenery of Korea quickly wore thin. Mealtimes and stops were moments of joy, as if released from prison.

After thirteen days of travel, they finally left Korea and entered the territory of the Black Wolf Army.

They found that settlements existed only where there were grasslands. Some cities destroyed by the Black Wolf tribe lay in ruins, unmaintained, lifeless, and deserted. The driver explained that the Black Wolf tribes were nomadic, regarding cities as unnecessary. Repairs cost money and were seen as wasteful. The inhabitants had been slaughtered; women and children taken as slaves by various clans. Many decaying corpses were left abandoned in the city, the stench unbearable, and no one dared enter.

“Barbarians, truly!” Baixing scoffed, her disdain for the wild lands deepening.

Entering the grasslands, some leather-armored men stationed outside the clans seemed ready to block their path, but the driver raised a sign and shouted, “Korean carriage, with a permit!” The men stood aside and let them pass.

Baixing peered through the window, seeing many slaves outside and within the clans—some children, but mostly women aged from their teens to their thirties, busy at work.

“Why are they all women?”

The driver chuckled, “In tribal wars, men are killed—old ones as well. Women who can bear children are kept. Leaving men alive is a threat; women are weak and unlikely to rebel. When they bear the master’s child, they become devoted, raising them faithfully. That’s the way of the Black Wolf clans: kill another’s men, seize their women, use their women to bear your own children, then send your own children to kill others’ men and seize others’ women.”

“Enough! That’s too savage!” Baixing could not bear to listen, and Bu Jingxian sighed quietly. The truth of the world is just so: the so-called civilization of the Seven Powers is merely a veneer for plunder. Merchants scheme to gain others’ wealth through trade; nations strive to produce more value among their people, to seize other nations’ land and populace.

Here, the law of the jungle manifests in its most primitive form—direct, bloody, and ruthless.

The driver stopped at the entrance to a settlement made up of countless tents, explaining that these tents were not only durable but affordable, and many clans shopped here.

Inside, as the Evening Glow Sect selected tents, they saw many slaves, naked and bound with ropes. The tent sellers enthusiastically called for them to buy, boasting of the slaves’ obedience and diligence.

As they left, the driver hurried them onward, urging them to move quickly.