Chapter 5
Guardian of Justice
Upon hearing the cries of curses and the clamor of battle, the villagers of the ethnic market gather in great number to behold the tumult. The old woman rouses her husband from slumber, urging him to rise and witness the chaos. Many, stricken with horror at the barbarity laid bare before their eyes, hasten to flee, whilst those who remain wear expressions of cruel delight:
- Lo, retribution doth befall them!
Such a fate is well deserved! Smite these wretches and lay them crippled!
- These wretches must be slain, that others may take heed!
Thiet Nam lifts his hand to command silence, and the air grows heavy as the crowd awaits his judgment. His gaze sweeps across the gathered folk, seeking the elder and his wife, yet he finds them not. At last, he unsheathes a keen blade. The villains, quaking at the sound of cold steel, strive to speak, but their tongues stammer, spilling naught but senseless babble. Thiet Nam's voice resounds, firm and sovereign:
- Place thy hands upon the ground!
They comply, trembling in dread. His judgment is delivered:
- By the edict of the court, those who gamble shall have their fingers severed! And those who inflict grievous harm, spill blood, or take life, must render their own lives in payment!
They reckon death to be certain, yet fate proves merciful; only their fingers are taken. One by one, they kneel and kowtow without cease, their foreheads striking the earth in desperate reverence:
- We bow in reverence and give thanks for thy mercy!
But those condemned to death are seized with terror, weeping and kneeling, beseeching clemency. Yet the onlookers, long disenchanted with imperial law, cry out with fierce indignation:
- These gamblers, who torment the villagers and shatter peace, deserve to perish a thousandfold!
- This place hath long been forsaken by the court; its laws are but brittle parchment!
- Slay them, and soothe the wrath of the people!
The crowd roars like thunder, and their cries for vengeance echo without end. All proceeds smoothly, until the crowd suddenly rises and shatter the peace. The gamblers bow their heads, clench their teeth in silent fury, and feign a mien of repentance, hoping Thiet Nam does not revoke his mercy. Thiet Nam sneers coldly, scorning their false lamentation, and speaks with a voice cold as iron:
- Resentment and wanton indulgence—when discipline is cast aside and bounds are broken, this land shall descend into chaos. Should order falter in all things, even heaven shall stand powerless to save!
Suddenly, Thiet Nam cries aloud:
- When those above lack virtue, those below must still refrain from disorder.
Cries laden with wrath pour down upon the sinners. The reproaches against the imperial court stir the hearts of the elder and his wife.
A hundred righteous men and a thousand wicked ones have they encountered in their past; save for the one who hath laid down his life to save his loved ones, Thiet Nam hath become the second—he who hath fought for justice, not for himself, but for another.
The world is full of meddlers, yet no one risks their life to aid a stranger without regard for their own safety. And here standeth Thiet Nam, wielding unbridled freedom of will as he enforceth imperial law.
If the common people have dared to punish wrongdoers, they have been executed for defying the laws of the emperor and the kingdom. Although the emperor's decrees have long been proclaimed throughout the land, Thiet Nam has remained steadfast in restoring order, that all may take heed and obey. Alas, he has not been able to open the way to light for those who have been lost in ignorance, for the masses have known nothing but blood for blood.
A crowd of people who have often lamented injustice has now gathered, their numbers greater than ants, screaming for violence to quench their wrath. Thiet Nam letteth out a cold scoff; his fury burneth, and those who dread peace more than chaos are struck dumb. The chaos subsides in an instant. Those of ill nature, their faces filled with fear and their limbs trembling, do not dare seize the chance to strike the gamblers, but instead withdraw, by slow degrees.
The old man and his wife worry that Thiet Nam, consumed by rage, is prone to losing his mind, while the agitators may push the situation into deeper chaos. Yet the mad beast stands firm, does not succumb to the storm of emotions, and quells the nascent rebellion before it grows.
The righteous do ever find peace in loss, but the wrathful do ever forfeit their virtue. The elder and his wife react not, but stand aside, watching the events unfold. When Thiet Nam near slayeth the man, the elder clasps his hands behind his back and speaketh unto his wife:
- The stench of blood groweth strong. Let us change the dish tonight—no more blood porridge.
A jest spoken in a voice cold and even; it soundeth of mockery, yet beareth more truth than any thing called real. Having dwelt long beside such a queer husband, the wife hath grown unfeeling toward his jests. The husband, indifferent to every situation, even considers those who are beaten as lower than animals. The wife findeth nothing strange, she merely smileth flatly:
- And what do you wish for? Perchance to taste of the gifts the heavens have bestowed?
Except for his cunning wife, the husband can play with the whole world. He sneereth at ease, watching Thiet Nam prepare to sever the gambler's hand… merely to let his wife know that he honors a man who sacrificeth all for the folk and the kingdom.
The husband bursts into laughter, startling all present. Every gaze turns to the man who laughs when there is naught to laugh at. Thiet Nam halts mid-motion at the strange laughter. With a voice light and unburdened, as one freed from a thousand weights, the husband wears a blank countenance. Then speaks he, his tone like iron:
- Do you know? Any commoner who dares to enforce the court's law arbitrarily shall be executed.
Thiet Nam can scarcely believe the one before him to be a ailing elder. Yet the man is no longer the frail elder who feigneth unconsciousness in wrath and despair. He now bears a composed demeanor, as if the two are strangers unacquainted. Upon facing the elder a second time, Thiet Nam's feeling is akin to beholding him for the first time. This strange transformation stirs his vexation.
- If royal laws are just parchment, then let the laws of knights-errant govern this matter. If the court taketh my life, it will only prove that I have done nothing wrong.
The elder curls his lips slightly, shaking his head, scoffing at the stubborn man:
- How laughable. I used to think you were wise, but it seems I am wrong.
The elder sticketh out his tongue and continueth:
- You are just a fool who letteth emotion slay your wits!
Thiet Nam ignores all the provocations and attacks with all his strength. The elder, his tone cold and unfeeling, speaketh in haste:
- If you are beheaded, who will seek justice for the folk in the future?
A father who loseth his son must yearn for revenge, but this man, time and again, seeketh to calm Thiet Nam's rage. His actions seem at odds with his dire circumstances. Thiet Nam looketh at him, puzzled by such inconsistency. The old man, calm as ever, letteth Thiet Nam act as he pleaseth—a stark contrast to his earlier urgency, when he hasteth to intervene, like fearing the chance to hinder should slip away.
Thiet Nam pondereth for a long time before the old man's mysterious attitude but can not find an answer. Finally, in rage, he shouteth:
- I do not believe I am the only one seeking justice for the folk.
He useth all his strength to raise his weapon and slash. From behind the old man, a nimble figure rushes out, using a dagger to block the attack. Thiet Nam fiercely pusheth the figure away, stabbeth the blade into the gamester's finger.
The figure moveth with haste, pressing the dagger against the hilt of Thiet Nam's knife. Like a vengeful spirit, black vapours surgeth forth from his form, his wrathful glare fixed upon his opponent.
He is a man of brown skin and short shorn hair, tall of stature and puissant of frame. Where the travellers don attire of silk and seemly garb, he is clad in threadbare cloth, patched and weathered. Yet his solemn visage beameth with valorous mien, and that righteous bearing betrayeth he is no baseborn of humble cloth.
The two stand face to face, and the raging fury in Thiet Nam's heart turneth to astonishment:
- Trung Hieu, why art it you?
Thiet Nam grips his weapon with unwavering resolve. Upon the sudden encounter with an old acquaintance, his hold upon the hilt falters for but a moment. The brown-skinned man seeketh to wrest the blade from him, yet Thiet Nam holdeth fast, thwarting the attempt with steadfast determination. Trung Hieu speaketh in a measured voice:
- Steady yourself, brother.
The elder and his wife behold their exchange, smiles hidden upon their lips. Trung Hieu, his voice light and teasing:
- Years apart, and yet thou remainest the same hothead.
Thiet Nam heedeth not the familiar jests, his gaze fixeth instead upon the enigmatic smiles etched upon the elder couple's faces. Their expressions betray contradictions, their actions defy comprehension. The matter grew ever more perplexing since the brown-skinned man made his appearance. Thiet Nam, beset by doubt, wrestleth with his thoughts in a tempest of uncertainty, unable to unravel the myriad coincidences that bear no mark of chance.
A multitude of questions swirl within his mind, taunting his spirit, making him feel as though all this be but a jest—and he, the fool crafted for the mirth of onlookers. Unwilling to squander further time, Thiet Nam speaketh in tones stern and harsh:
- Toy not with me! If you continuest to evade the truth, blame me not for my ruthlessness! - His voice turneth cold as that of a summoned demon - What transpireth here in truth? Claim not you presence be mere happenstance, for I shall not believe in so many coincidences.
As he uttereth the words "by mere happenstance," his gaze, keen and resolute, falleth upon the elder pair. They remain silent and unmoved, their inscrutable countenances challenging the suspicious man.
Trung Hieu, his face darkeneth with unease, sigheth heavily, running a hand through his hair in vexation. He hath long known the nature of his comrade, yet the demon's breath in Thiet Nam's voice never faileth to send a chill coursing through his veins.
Whenever Thiet Nam is consumed by fury, the brown-skinned man can but shake his head, click his tongue in dismay, and urgently turn to entreat the elder:
- Grand Chancellor, wilt thou yet stand idly by as this matter unfoldeth?
Thiet Nam, upon hearing the name "Grand Chancellor," feeleth his agitated heart grow ever more restless. In the Imperial Court, there existeth but one Grand Chancellor—Tran Thu Do. The elder, proud and arrogant by nature, hath ever regarded even the heavens as smaller than the hand with which he veilest the sky entire.
How much less, then, should such a man appear in a place smaller than the palm of his hand, when he is entrusted by the Emperor with the great task of convening the martial contest?
In the eyes of the world, it is unthinkable for the Grand Chancellor to be present in such a diminutive locale.
Even upon his first encounter with Thiet Nam, the elder hath feigned frailty and decrepitude, coughing and gasping as though teetering on the brink of death.
And there standeth Thu Do, beside the woman who is both his wife and his elder cousin. The Grand Chancellor hath but one consort—Lady Tran Thi Dung—a figure renowned throughout the land for her cunning, rivaling that of her husband.
How peculiar, indeed, that those of such high rank should appear before commoners. The crowd groweth alarmed, unable to fathom the purpose of their presence. Thiet Nam fixeth his gaze upon Thu Do and his wife. Thu Do laugh, deriding the sight of Thiet Nam being spun about like a pinwheel.
Though their identities are unmasked, the elderly couple still retaineth their layer of disguise. Thu Do clearth his throat, silencing the murmurs. The crowd, upon hearing him, is gripped by fear, falling into an ominous stillness, holding their breath.
- There remaineth much to set in order. - Thu Do declareth with a nod - Yet my efforts are not in vain.
His wife parteth her lips, a smile mocking her husband's many stratagems:
- Delay not further; thou hast already incited his wrath.
Thiet Nam, repeatedly ridiculed, his patience abideth no longer. His composure shattereth, and he roar in fury:
- Cease thy prattle! Speak plainly, and make you meaning known at once!
A bald man of brutish visage, thick-browed and broad-faced, with shoulders like hewn stone and limbs of sinew, standeth nearby and crieth aloud:
- How dare thee…
All eyes turn toward the shaven brute. The air about him groweth tense, burdened by the weight of his grievous presence. He advanceth step by step, like unto a mountain set in motion.
Thu Do, amused, maketh a gesture for him to halt. To the elder, seldom hath he been met with voices raised in defiance—least of all from a man of no name who hath dared to shout at him. Though discomfort from lowly days long past hath stirred within, Thu Do hath found it turned to a spice, sprinkled into the dullness of a life steeped only in praise and flattery. Thiet Nam, valiant and steadfast, bringeth amusement to the elder, who waveth his hand and commandeth the bald man.
- The stench of blood overwhelmeth all sensibilities. Cu Chich, seize these fools and cast them into prison to await judgment!
The bald man, Cu Chich, placeth his fingers in his mouth and emiteth a piercing whistle. From every corner, waves of figures spring forth, clad in plain raiment. They have been disguised all along—some as diners relishing their meals, others as merchants plying their trade. Even poets who but moments ago have passionately recited verses now abandon their wine gourds and inkstones.
All of them, without exception, lay bare their true forms as imperial soldiers, fully prepared to seize and drag the criminals from the ethnic market. The onlookers stand as statues, silenced by dread, their gazes darting furtively toward Thiet Nam. They hope he reasserteth control amidst the chaos.
At the outset, Thiet Nam cannot discern the reason why the elderly couple chooseth to conceal their identities. In this moment, he methodically linketh various events together, intertwining them with Trung Hieu's role as the commander of the imperial court's regular army, deeply linking the threads of events hay weaving the web of cause and effect.
Years ago, the brown-skinned man fought alongside him, sharing life and death on the battlefield, their blood-stained blades shining as they valiantly struck down their foes. Thiet Nam could never banish from his mind the battlefield of old, a tragic and fierce struggle that forever lingered in his heart.
The scorching sun burned the heavens; flames leapt skyward; smoke and dust blanketed the earth, consuming the charred corpses scattered across the land. Soldiers' remains were piled as high as mountains.
Thiet Nam and Trung Hieu stood back-to-back, their faces smeared with blood and ash. They wielded bloodstained swords, fiercely repelling enemies from all sides, slaying them one by one. As one foe fell, another swiftly took their place. In the heat of battle, an arrow flew, cutting through the air toward Thiet Nam.
Trung Hieu, alarmed, pushed his comrade aside. The arrow struck his shoulder, drawing blood; he snapped the arrow in two, and his fervor rose tenfold. The memory hath remained indelibly etched upon the heart of Thiet Nam. He is certain that Trung Hieu hath recounted their shared trials of life and death to the Grand Chancellor.
Thiet Nam vaguely guesseth the elder couple's reasoning for disguising themselves, weaving tales of ruin and desolation to provoke him into quelling the unrest, so as to prove Trung Hieu's words are true.
To ordeal Thiet Nam, Thu Do turneth a blind eye to rampant criminals, casting the realm into disarray and nigh inciteth rebellion. Yet he is but a nameless figure; the Grand Chancellor needeth not trouble himself over disturbing the peace of this place.
The Grand Chancellor, ever a maverick, unbound by rites or reason, hath conducted himself with disregard for principles. Such matters, perchance, have been as a matter of course as the myriad strange deeds he hath committed in the past. Yet, Thiet Nam still findeth it difficult to believe that this hath truly been the elder's intent. The Grand Chancellor, possessing myriad methods to test one's talent, would surely not have resorted to a reckless trial of danger without gain.
Thiet Nam remaineth silent, patiently waiting for the mastermind to speak. His face is cold and stern, like an unbreakable sheet of ice, beneath which boileth molten fire, ready to erupt at any moment. The Grand Chancellor sneereth and saith:
- Ha, I thought I was the only one who enjoyeth this game of predator and prey…
Thiet Nam dismisseth the jest that containeth many hidden meanings. Yet the following words confuse him:
- I still desire to partake in other diversions, but I cannot suffer this place to be destroyed again.
This utterance implyeth that if the Grand Chancellor yet hesitateth and refuseth to explain, Thiet Nam will use force to demand an answer; at that moment, a fierce clash is inevitable.
At first, the Grand Chancellor concealeth his thoughts, yet in the end, he revealeth Thiet Nam's intentions, purposely allowing him to grasp his true design.
Thiet Nam is enmeshed in uncertainty, thinking restlessly on the Grand Chancellor's intent; his thoughts whirl in turmoil and his rage riseth to the brink of madness. The elder, perceiving that Thiet Nam approachth the limit of his patience, chuckleth softly to himself:
- Bring those people here!