Chapter 340. Liaoyang After the Battle
Dawn came before the confusion of the night had fully settled.
Youngwoo had just entered a guesthouse near the southern gate, hoping to close his eyes for a short while, when Okjeong came running.
"I will take you to our home."
"You have a house here?"
"Of course."
A white pagoda rose against the northwestern sky of Liaoyang.
Seen from afar, the rooftops and towers within the city seemed to sink low beneath it, while the octagonal white pagoda alone appeared to float above them.
Its brick body rose in eight faces, crowned by thirteen closely stacked eaves.
The overlapping tiers formed dark lines in the night wind, while the body of the pagoda, coated in white lime, gleamed faintly in torchlight and moonlight.
Buddhist niches were set into each of its eight sides, and even in the darkness the outlines of the Buddhas and attendant figures within them remained visible.
Amid the blood, shouting, and pounding footsteps nearby, the pagoda alone stood in silence, as though it had been there since long before any of them.
"That pagoda is enormous."
"That is the White Pagoda of Liaoyang. It is also called the pagoda of Guangyou Temple."
As she led the way, Okjeong carefully explained the layout of Liaoyang.
Her voice was calm and measured, almost like that of a guide, but it was filled with consideration for Youngwoo.
She pointed out the main roads, the location of the government offices, the direction of Go Hoewon's estate, and even the alleys branching away from the White Pagoda.
Yet Youngwoo's expression did not brighten.
Go Hoewon was waiting at the main gate.
He bowed even before Youngwoo could dismount.
"I should have invited you here much earlier, but those bastards turned even the house upside down."
Youngwoo waved a hand.
"Ah, I am fine anywhere."
Go Hoewon raised his head.
"You gave up your office to help us. No matter how well we receive you, it will not be enough."
"There is no need for that. I did it because I wanted to."
Go Hoewon's home was a broad estate in the northwestern quarter of Liaoyang.
Most of the buildings followed Central Plains styles, but one detached residence had been built in the Goryeo manner and immediately stood out.
The lines of the eaves, the spacing of the pillars, and the way the raised wooden floor had been laid were different from the other houses in the city.
Youngwoo looked at it and asked,
"Were you Goryeo people?"
Okjeong answered,
"We are Balhae."
At the word Balhae, Youngwoo remembered what had happened at the hidden gate.
The woman drenched in blood, helping lift the locking beams.
Oyeon Jik bleeding from the shoulder, yet still forcing the gate open.
That brief and terrible struggle still echoed in his ears.
The dull crash of the beams falling.
The footsteps of soldiers charging toward them.
The woman's shout.
Only now did those sounds seem to settle fully into his chest.
Youngwoo turned toward Okjeong.
"Lady Okjeong, I have a favor to ask."
"Please tell me."
"Find the two people who opened the hidden gate earlier. A man and a woman."
Okjeong's expression tightened slightly.
"What happened?"
"They accomplished something very difficult. We must make sure they are looked after."
"Understood."
Okjeong immediately relayed the order to one of her attendants.
The man bowed and ran out through the main gate at once.
Youngwoo gave the large estate a quick look, then dismounted.
Go Hoewon led him not to the inner quarters, but to the detached residence.
The building itself had been constructed in the Goryeo style, but the estate followed a Central Plains layout.
Walls, gates, covered corridors, and courtyards extended deep into the compound.
"I would like you to stay here."
The detached residence stood firmly around a single courtyard, with a five-bay structure facing it.
A long wooden floor ran across the front, and fresh marks on the pillars showed that they had recently been cleaned.
It seemed the household had hurriedly put the place back in order after Xiao Baoxian's men had ransacked it.
Youngwoo bowed his head.
"Thank you."
But he could not step onto the wooden floor right away.
He lowered his head and looked at himself.
He was covered in blood.
Two maidservants approached when they saw him hesitating below the floor.
Carefully, they removed his blood-soaked outer garments.
After cutting and forcing his way through hundreds of men from the hidden gate to the southern gate, the clothes hardly looked fit for a human being anymore.
Where the blood had dried, cloth and armor had stiffened together.
Dark red stains layered the wrists and sleeves.
The two maidservants turned their heads from the brutal color and smell.
One bent at the waist and retched.
While water was heated and food prepared, Youngwoo sat in the courtyard and enjoyed the rare absence of people.
Out of habit, he counted the forms.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Go Hoewon's household also moved busily throughout the estate.
Xiao Baoxian had learned of Go Hoewon's submission and ordered the house searched and ransacked.
Broken objects and scattered belongings still remained here and there.
They cleared away shattered dishes, righted overturned tables, and removed torn curtains.
Not long afterward, Youngwoo washed himself with hot water.
The blood caked onto his hands and arms loosened and streamed away.
The water quickly turned cloudy.
Every wound stung with heat, but once he was clean, breathing felt a little easier.
After changing into fresh clothes and sitting at the edge of the wooden floor, he finally looked human again.
Drops of water fell from his wet hair.
Far away, drums, screams, and ragged shouts could still be heard from somewhere in the city.
A large white bowl was brought out, filled with rice and side dishes all together.
Beside the rice lay pale white kimchi.
Freshly steamed dumplings released clouds of vapor beside it.
Thick slices of boiled meat had also been piled into the bowl.
In a single meal sat the foods of the Central Plains, Goryeo, Liaodong, and the steppe.
The flour dumplings carried the taste of the Central Plains.
The kimchi belonged to Goryeo custom.
The boiled meat was familiar to the tables of Liaodong and the grasslands.
Just like the city of Liaoyang itself, several lands seemed to mingle in that one bowl.
Youngwoo sat alone in the empty courtyard and slowly ate breakfast.
When he bit into a hot dumpling, juices spilled from the filling and warmth sank into his chilled body.
The kimchi was clean and refreshing.
The boiled meat was rough, but nourishing.
For a body that had swung a sword through the entire night, food like that suited him well.
After eating, he tended to his weapon.
His bloodstained clothes could be given to others to wash.
His sword could not.
Youngwoo sat at the edge of the floor and laid the hwando across his knees.
Dried blood formed a dark red film across the blade.
Grease from cut flesh and fibers from clothing were tangled into it as well.
Even with a wet cloth, it did not come away easily.
He moistened the blade little by little and rubbed it clean, scraping with his fingertips even at the grime lodged in the groove between the edge and the spine.
It took a long time.
As the blood disappeared, the sword's original sheen slowly returned.
He took out a whetstone and carefully restored the edge.
At last, he drew a dry cloth along the blade in one long stroke.
The hwando flashed coldly in the morning light.
Youngwoo tilted the blade and inspected it.
Then he slowly slid it back into its scabbard.
With that, his preparations were complete.