Chapter 26
Back to the Southern Corps
The secret investigative bureau Biweol mainly targeted corrupt officials or military generals suspected of embezzlement or treachery. They had the authority to conduct undercover inspections and, if necessary, make arrests on the spot.
Although their scale and authority fell slightly short compared to the Embroidered Guard (Geumuiwi) or the Eastern Depot (Dongchang), Biweol had steadily risen in stature in recent years by resolving major cases.
Gomi was the first woman in history to ascend to the rank of Wolju (chief) within Biweol.
Whooosh—
The breeze that slipped in through the window brushed softly against Gomi’s beautiful face.
“He used to be endlessly quiet and fragile…”
She raised the teacup to her lips, her gaze fixed on the room where Ihwan was staying. The memory of seeing him in the marketplace the other day made her knit her brows.
“His eyes, his aura—completely different from before. How can a person change so much?”
The Ihwan she remembered had been a frail, withdrawn prince, quiet and shadowed.
Yet, unlike other nobles, he was humble and kindhearted, which had left her with good impressions.
But the Ihwan she had encountered in the marketplace was like an entirely different man.
At that moment, a voice drifted in from outside.
“It’s me, Wolju.”
“Come in.”
A female agent of Biweol entered.
“How did it go?”
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t trace his movements at all.”
“You conducted inquiries properly?”
“Yes.”
“There’s no helping it then. Spread out more people, search even farther. Tear apart the region if you must. You’ve worked hard—eat something and rest.”
“Yes, Wolju. But may I ask, why did you come to your residence today?”
“A guest arrived. His Highness the Grand Prince and his retinue. If you should cross paths, mind your manners.”
“The Fourth Prince—no, the Grand Prince? He came here? For what reason?”
“He stopped by the capital and decided to stay one night.”
“Couldn’t he have another purpose?”
“Aren’t you tired? Go rest.”
“…Yes, ma’am.”
Gomi watched the agent leave, then once more turned her gaze toward Ihwan’s room, frowning faintly.
“Tomorrow will be busy… How am I supposed to host him properly in such circumstances?”
Just then, a window creaked open, and Ihwan leaned out. Gomi quickly hid herself by the window frame.
In her haste, the teacup in her hand wobbled, spilling a little. Hot tea splashed onto her foot.
“Hot!”
*
“No wonder he likes it here…”
Ihwan gazed around the residence, bathed in moonlight.
Compared to the palace—with its soft beds and endless delicacies—this house was shabby. But his heart was far more at ease here.
His eyes lingered on Gomi’s chamber. The light that had burned just moments ago had been snuffed out.
“Biweol, huh…”
The reason Ihwan had insisted on staying at Gomi’s home was simple—he hoped to enlist Biweol’s information network to find the Wandering Swordsman.
Though the Crown Prince had promised to mobilize the Eastern Depot, having Biweol involved might hasten things.
“If only she agrees…”
But Biweol, like the Eastern Depot, was an imperial secret service. They were not an organization one could mobilize privately. In fact, Biweol prided itself on neutrality more than any other. He wasn’t sure if Gomi would ever accept such a request.
“Still, it costs me nothing to ask.”
Whoooosh—
A pleasant wind blew by. Ihwan let his thoughts scatter with it. But then, his sharp eyes caught sight of two figures sitting on the roof above Gomi’s quarters.
“Her guards… Tight security, indeed.”
As expected, Biweol agents. Their enemies must be many.
Soon, Ihwan opened his window to let the night breeze in, then lay on the bed. His mind churned with thoughts until sleep took him. Yet it didn’t last—he awoke not long after, unable to drift off again.
“I’ll just sleep in the carriage tomorrow.”
He donned a coat, took up his sword, and slipped out.
Heading toward the mountains behind the residence, he soon came upon a roaring waterfall.
Shiiing—
He drew his blade. Tonight, the sword’s aura felt different.
“Shall I test the effect of the Spirit Pill?”
Crashhh—
Facing the torrent, he spread his stance. Energy surged along the blade, and with a single stroke, the air split.
For a moment—perhaps an illusion—the waterfall itself seemed to part and freeze.
“Not bad.”
Clang!
He sheathed the sword and turned back.
*
The next morning, Gomi came to see Ihwan.
“Were you looking for me?”
“Let’s have tea.”
“Yes.”
He pushed a cup toward her.
“Thank you.”
They both sipped quietly.
Clink—
“May I ask a favor?”
“Please speak.”
“There’s someone I need to find. Someone very important to me.”
Her eyes flickered slightly.
“So that’s why he stayed here…”
Only now did she understand his true intent.
“May I ask who this person is?”
“Someone with no ties to the palace. He’s committed no crime.”
“So it was indeed for this reason you insisted on staying?”
“Meeting you was chance. But staying the night—yes, it was to ask this favor.”
He spoke plainly.
For a prince to suddenly request lodging in her home was far too odd. Everyone would suspect hidden motives. To lie would only make things worse.
After some hesitation, Gomi spoke firmly.
“Biweol is an institution whose very life is fairness and neutrality. No one may use its power for personal matters. Not even I, its chief.”
Ihwan raised the cup to his lips.
Though disappointed, he respected her stance. That was exactly how the head of such an agency should be. He understood.
“The Eastern Depot will suffice.”
He had hoped Biweol’s help would make things easier, but her resolve made it clear: that path was closed.
Clink.
“I shouldn’t have troubled you with it.”
“It’s nothing. I must take my leave now. I’ll leave a guard—if you need anything, you may call on her.”
“No. I should be leaving as well.”
“Didn’t you say you hadn’t decided when?”
“I was wavering. Now I’ve decided—today.”
“Is it because I refused your request?”
“I can’t say it isn’t. Hahaha.”
“…Forgive me.”
“It’s fine. We’ll meet again.”
Shortly after, Ihwan stepped outside before she did.
Watching his receding back, Gomi’s brow furrowed softly.
“He truly has changed… Once, he was endlessly gentle. Now…”
*
“Head for the Southern Corps.”
“Yes, sir!”
Clip-clop, rumble—
Ihwan rode in the carriage, seated in front.
The Crown Prince’s envoy returned to the palace with the sketch of the Wandering Swordsman’s appearance. Ihwan also kept a copy.
But the sketch, pieced together from Cha Jung-gyeong’s memories, looked so ordinary that Ihwan doubted even the Eastern Depot could track the man down. Still, it was all he had.
“We’ll pick up speed!”
On the government road, Songhoe urged the horses to their fullest.
Unlike other cities, the capital’s outskirts had special paved roads for horses and carriages—built long ago for rapid military transport. Thanks to that, they could go at full speed despite heavy traffic.
“Should I have stopped by?”
He regretted not meeting that boy’s sister. Since he had stolen the youth’s body and life, he wanted to at least repay that debt in some way.
Song Cheonmu’s last words echoed:
“Please, before Her Highness passes, visit her once.”
“Next time, then.”
Ihwan shut his eyes, chasing away idle thoughts.
*
“Grand Prince!”
At Songhoe’s voice, Ihwan opened his eyes. He had dozed off, exhausted.
The carriage had already left the city, now heading south.
“Look ahead, please.”
Frowning, Ihwan spotted a group blocking the road.
They were far, yet he could clearly make out even the moles on their faces. The Spirit Pill’s effects were extraordinary.
Though not perfect—at full strength, he would have heard their breathing too.
“The Embroidered Guard… again?”
The ones blocking the road were indeed Geumuiwi enforcers.
Around twenty men, all armed, signaling for the carriage to halt.
“Bandits, maybe?”
“No. Embroidered Guard.”
“You can tell from this distance?”
“Stop the carriage.”
“Yes, sir.”
The carriage halted before them. One guard eyed the military flag on the coach, then barked:
“State your affiliation!”
“Show respect! This is the Grand Prince!”
“…!”
Startled, the man bowed low.
“We greet Your Highness!”
“What is this about?”
“We’re chasing a dangerous criminal. We had word he stole a carriage, so we’re stopping all for inspection.”
“Since when did the Embroidered Guard do such work?”
“This man murdered two palace officials. All of Geumuiwi is on high alert!”
“Is that so? Then continue your duty. We’ll be on our way.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Songhoe raised the whip—but the guard spoke again.
“Forgive me, but I must ask to check inside the carriage.”
A twitch—
Ihwan’s brow arched sharply.
Songhoe erupted first.
“Impudence! Do you dare demand to search the Grand Prince’s carriage?!”
But the guard ignored him, fixing his gaze only on Ihwan. Songhoe wasn’t even worth his notice.
Songhoe’s face reddened with fury. But unexpectedly, Ihwan allowed it.
“Very well.”
“Thank you, Your Highness!”
At his signal, the other guards opened the carriage, thoroughly checking Cheol Mu-ok and the others’ identities.
Ihwan watched calmly.
Cheol Mu-ok’s voice slipped into his mind.
[Are we really letting them do this?]
[Leave them.]
*[…] *
Thud!
One guard slammed the carriage door shut—so hard it shook the coach.
Their captain stepped forward.
“You may go now.”
Ihwan gazed at him coldly. Most men would avert their eyes—but this one didn’t.
“How long have you been with the Embroidered Guard?”
“This is my tenth year.”
“Then it’s time you took a rest.”
“…Pardon?”
“Only by resting will you learn to value work. Take a long one.”
“Is this man insane…?”
Folding his arms, Ihwan closed his eyes.
“Go.”
“Yes, sir.”
That day marked the beginning of an ill-fated entanglement—
and the start of a nightmare for the Embroidered Guard.
