My Own House
Finding Jeongun Merchant Guild wasn’t difficult. I went into every fabric shop and herbalist along the street and asked around, and everyone pointed me in the same direction.
The building they led me to wasn’t a merchant guild at all, but a brokerage office.
As soon as I stepped inside, a broker named Oh Seong, a man in his mid-forties, greeted me warmly.
He was short and slight, with a bare face and no beard at all—he looked exactly like a eunuch.
“Jeongun Merchant Guild? I know it.”
“You know it?”
“They were doing business on this very spot until five years ago.”
“Then what about now?”
“It went under.”
Oh Seong studied my face, which had gone stiff all at once, and continued carefully.
“The guild master went out on a trade run and was killed by bandits. His children split the inheritance and left Seochon. I bought the place then, and I’ve been working as a broker ever since.”
“Do you know a broker named Yeon Jin-won, or maybe Yeon Jin-hyeon?”
Oh Seong scratched his chin and shook his head.
“No, I can’t say I’ve heard those names. He probably quit and moved on long ago.”
He also verified the scrap of cloth I’d taken from Soso’s family gate.
“This was definitely put up by the Jeongun Merchant Guild that used to be here. Where did you see it?”
After I explained the location, he understood at once.
“Ah, that house. It’s one of the few properly built tile-roofed homes in this district.”
“Do you know where the people who lived there went?”
“No idea. If they left because they couldn’t survive the famine, they probably headed for a larger city nearby.”
“Is that house for sale too?”
“Of course.”
“How much?”
“Just a moment, hero. Let me check the ledger.”
Oh Seong took a thick account book from the shelf and opened it.
“Ah, here it is. The current price is five taels of silver. Cheap, really. For a house like that, this much is…”
“A collapsing ruin and you want five taels of silver?”
I glared at him and snapped back in a rough tone. I even shifted the saber at my hip around to my side.
I’d been speaking politely because he looked older than me, and this was how he paid me back? Trying to fleece me blind?
He wasn’t anything special to look at—just a plain face—but he’d made his living off a blade in his youth.
I knew very well that fools who thought I was young and easy to push around often learned the hard way that fists were a lot cheaper than mercy.
When I growled at him outright, Oh Seong flinched and hurried to explain himself.
“No, no, hero, please calm down and hear me out first! The owner of that house is a government official living in Seongdo. He bought it early, seeing what was coming when the escort agencies moved in and the district started booming. It should have fetched twenty taels of silver, but the market has been sluggish, so the price dropped a lot. We’ve had a few inquiries from people wanting to buy it, but they were flatly refused unless they paid at least five taels of silver…”
I stared silently at the broker as he rattled on and on, laying out every possible excuse for why he couldn’t shave off even a single coin from the price, then turned and left.
Buying something the moment you walked into the first shop you found was the quickest way to get cheated.
I looked into other brokers.
Decent vacant houses weren’t hard to find. For sale, they ranged from ten taels to two hundred taels of silver. For rent, from half a tael to three taels.
The brokers kept saying we should at least go look at the houses first, but I turned right around. No matter how much the population had grown, the prices were absurd.
The only office listing Soso’s family home was Oh Seong’s brokerage.
Should I just sneak in and live there?
Judging by how no one had lived there and it had been left to rot all this time, it didn’t seem likely anyone would come looking for it now.
The problem was what if, by some chance, the house had already been sold?
If the owner really was a government official, or if the buyer had powerful backing, then I couldn’t just throw my weight around and claim it anyway.
If I drew my blade there, I might end up a fugitive, forced to turn my back on my hometown forever.
Five taels of silver was a small price if it completely eliminated that risk.
My entire fortune amounted to seventeen taels of silver and seventy wen in cash.
This was my eighth year making a living with a blade.
You might think I’d saved too little, but that was simply how this world worked.
For wandering martial artists, saving up enough to retire properly was about as hard as a gambler hitting the jackpot and walking away clean.
The work was rough, and I got hurt in one place or another all the time, so the cost of medicine never stopped.
Fighting to the death also meant blades got nicked, cracked, or broken all the time. If a sword snapped, you had no choice but to buy a new one, and that took real money.
If you didn’t want to die like a fool from some stray blade or hidden dart flying in from behind, you had to wear something under your clothes.
I couldn’t afford expensive lamellar armor, but at the very least I needed a vest made of pigskin.
People who’d never done it didn’t understand how many ways a blade runner could bleed money.
Still, compared to the other wanderers who wasted everything on wine and gambling as though there were no tomorrow, I’d been fairly disciplined.
Even if I paid five taels of silver for the house, if I kept a tight hand on my spending I could probably get by for another two years.
There were pleasure houses, and there was the escort agency; even after the money ran out, I’d manage to find work somehow.
After wetting my throat at a roadside tea stall and making up my mind, I went back to Oh Seong’s brokerage. When I said I’d buy the house, he brightened at once and made a show of excitement.
“A wise choice, hero. The house is a little out of the way, but it’s not a bad place to live. Even if wild beasts come down from the mountains, someone of your skill would only need them for dinner sides. Let’s handle the contract tomorrow. I’ll have all the papers ready.”
I browsed the streets a little longer on my way back to the inn. When I got to my room, there was a wooden tub waiting for me. The servant filled it with bathwater right away.
After soaking in the hot water and washing myself clean, I had a drink.
Before the liquor could creep up on me, I shoved the door shut with the table, set my saber within reach, and went to bed.
I had gone to all the trouble of returning to my hometown, and yet I was sleeping in an inn. It left my mind unsettled.
Tomorrow, I decided, I’d somehow get the contract signed and start repairing Soso’s family house.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The next afternoon, when I met Oh Seong again, he abruptly told me we couldn’t finalize the contract here.
“You mean we have to go to the yamen?”
When I narrowed my eyes and glared, Oh Seong flinched and hurried to explain the situation.
“We need to verify the deed register and get the government’s notarization. All sales of houses and land are handled through the magistrate’s office.”
“The deed register?”
I’d never heard the term before.
Was it the name of some hidden weapon I didn’t know? Or maybe a sect that was famous in this district? My martial artist’s instincts naturally leaned that way.
That couldn’t be right. Frowning, I shook my head inwardly. But if I asked what it was outright, I might look like some country bumpkin who didn’t know the first thing about the world.
In times like this, crossing my arms and staring in silence was the best move.
Oh Seong seemed to have dealt with plenty of martial artists before; he caught on quickly.
“As you surely know, hero, the deed register is where the government records the owner of a house or plot of land in its official ledgers. It’s the state formally recognizing ownership.”
“Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious? How else would they know who lives where, and how much, if they’re going to assess taxes? Military service too.”
For a moment I was dumbfounded.
Living as a wandering martial artist had made me forget something important: squeezing the common people dry was one of a magistrate’s main duties.
So if my name went onto the deed register as the owner, that meant military obligations and taxes would be imposed on me.
Since the previous emperor had pacified the north, military service had long since been converted into silver. That meant the taxes paid to the government would only grow heavier.
I’d come back determined to settle down, but just thinking about the money the government would claw out of me made my head spin.
Shaking off the hesitation, I brought up the one problem that would definitely matter if we went to the yamen.
“I don’t have a hopae.”
“Huh? Oh, that’s fine. You can get a new one issued this time.”
“It won’t be free, I assume?”
“Of course not. It’s the government. There’s a fee.”
“How much?”
“If it’s one tael of silver…”
When I glared at him wide-eyed, Oh Seong trailed off and swallowed hard.
“...that’s too much, yes. If we bundle the house transaction and the hopae issuance together, I’ll bargain it down to six hundred wen.”
“And your brokerage fee?”
“For that, I’d really need at least half a tael of silver…”
“One hundred wen.”
“Pardon?”
“One hundred wen.”
“Aigoo, that won’t do it, hero…”
He put on a mournful face and launched into a long string of complaints, acting as if he were being crushed by hardship.
I folded my arms with a cold expression and said nothing. When I didn’t budge and just kept staring, the answer I wanted finally came out.
It seemed my meaning had been perfectly clear: if he tried to cheat me, they’d never find his body anywhere in the Central Plains.
“...Then just this once. Hoo, at this rate I won’t have anything left over at all... Goodness, I don’t even know if I’ll be able to pay the shop’s rent this month...”
He seemed determined to milk my sympathy until I felt guilty, but that was wasted effort.
I’d never seen a merchant in this world who didn’t skim off the top. If anything, the ones who looked weakest usually pocketed the most behind your back.
Some of the six hundred wen paid to the yamen would surely end up in this broker’s pocket. And once the house was sold, he’d get his cut from the owner too.
If you thought about it, it was all thanks to me that they got to sell an abandoned ruin that had been sitting there unsold for who knew how long, even after demanding five taels of silver for it.
Rather than me owing him, it was practically the other way around—and even so, giving him a hundred wen was more than enough.
And so I ended up at the magistrate’s office, a place I dreaded as much as a latrine with an assassin hiding in it.
The damned yamen was exactly like every other one in the land. Even the low-ranking guards at the gate made no effort to hide their demands for bribes.
Standing with my hands behind my back, I watched as Oh Seong quickly produced a few wen.
The official in charge of the deed register was a middle-aged man with a goatish beard and a face that looked sly enough to fit it perfectly.
“It’s been a while, my lord.”
“Hmm. And what brings you here?”
“I’ve come about a house sale.”
Oh Seong stated the matter and handed over the letter of authorization he’d received from the owner.
The official skimmed it with a sullen face. Only after a small pouch slipped deftly into his hand did satisfaction bloom on his features.
As though it were nothing, he tucked the pouch into his robes and asked, “Hmm, a house sale, was it? I’ll fetch the deed register, so wait a moment.”
After the official disappeared completely into the study, I muttered under my breath without thinking.
“So the whole nation’s thieves are gathered here.”
“The stipends lower officials get are what they are, aren’t they? If they want even a bowl of meat broth on the family table once in a while, they’ve got to skim some bribes.”
I thought he’d agree with me, but Oh Seong instead defended the official as if he understood him.
When I looked at him, he grinned slyly and chattered on.
“Heh, hero, if you want to bring some meat home with you, you ought to be generous with your brokerage fee too.”
Watching him bow and scrape to someone young enough to be his son, I could feel the sadness of a man struggling just to keep living. No matter where you went or what you did, making a living was a filthy business.
I didn’t know whether he had children, but I found myself hoping he was at least a dutiful son. After all that struggle to earn the money and bring it home, it would be a bitter thing if his own family treated him like cold rice.
The official came back carrying a thick ledger and laid it on the table. It kicked up dust as dry as if it had been buried for years.
He flipped through the pages for a while, then pointed to one side with a finger.
“Here we are. Sign here.”
“May I read it?”
“You can read?”
“I’ve finished the Thousand Character Classic.”
“Oh? Impressive. Very impressive. Were you from some fallen sect, perhaps?”
As I began reading the words in the ledger, the broker stared too, looking almost more surprised than when he’d seen the sword at my waist.
That made sense. A martial artist was supposed to be illiterate.
Having all those admiring eyes on me made my shoulders rise a little despite myself.
The original owner listed in the deed register was Soso’s father. After several transfers of ownership, the current owner was Gwang Jik-hyeon, a resident of Seongdo.
The name matched the one written on the authorization document Oh Seong had brought.
Under the official’s watchful eye, I handed over the money and finalized the sale.
Once the signatures were complete, my name was entered under the current owner.
I even had a hopae made for the first time in my life. It was a small wooden tablet with my three-character name on the front, and my home address plus my appearance written on the back.
Something like that wasn’t going to tie a martial artist down in one place. You could always burn it and leave whenever you wanted.
I’d never seen a blade runner carrying a hopae around. Even if you searched every corpse after a bloody battle, all you’d find were silver, cash, daggers, poison, wound medicine, and the occasional lewd pamphlet—not identity tablets.
The only time not having one was a problem was when the magistrates were conducting inspections. Even then, a little money usually solved most things. Otherwise, you could just take a side path or slip through a crack in the wall and be done with it.
For the time being, that wouldn’t be necessary. I had a house now.
I’d have preferred to become a son-in-law here like I’d once dreamed as a child, but even getting back like this was enough to be grateful for.
Everyone feels a tug toward their hometown.
There had once been a blade runner called the Butcher, known for killing women and children without mercy.
Even that cold-blooded murderer would start mourning his hometown in a thick western accent after a few drinks.
He would ramble on like a drunkard about the rough, steep mountains and plains of dusty Liangzhou, and about the childhood days when he’d gone out stealing with an empty stomach clutched tight in both hands.
That was what a hometown was.
No matter how splendid or prosperous the city you lived in might be, when you lay down to sleep, your mind always drifted back home. Childhood memories were brighter and more precious than gold and jewels.
I had no idea where Soso had gone. If I went asking around, all I’d do was cross her trail by chance and keep missing each other.
If Soso, Uncle, and Aunt were still alive, then someday they’d come back. As long as they lived, we could meet again.
Until then, I would guard this house.
I didn’t have anywhere else to go anyway. I was tired of wandering the Central Plains as a ronin, and I was sick to death of killing people just to make money.
Men who swung blades for a living betrayed others easily once a bigger pile of money appeared in front of them. That was why no one trusted them anywhere they went.
Even if I somehow got into a martial arts faction or a merchant caravan, I’d only be used as a blade hand until my teeth fell out and then tossed aside like rotten meat.
No matter when or how I died, I wanted it to end on hometown soil.
I paid Oh Seong the hundred wen we’d agreed on and added another thirty on top of it. That was enough to let three generations sit around a table and gorge themselves on pork until they were stuffed.
Then I went to Soso’s family house, which was now my house, and started cleaning.
I cut away the vines that had climbed up the outer wall and all the way onto the roof, then hauled them out past the fence and threw them away. Just making the outside look tidy already made me feel better.
I started with the main room and hauled out every last piece of furniture that was still left. I brushed away the cobwebs and dust, then swept and scrubbed the floor.
I pulled every weed in the yard.
I called a carpenter and ordered a new gate, new floorboards, new windows, and even a new bed frame. Since he said it would still take at least a day even with the rush fee, I had no choice but to stay at the inn again that night.
By the next afternoon, my house was no longer a ruin.
With a proper gate hung, the place repaired cleanly, and quilts, pillows, and dishes bought for it, it finally looked like a home where people lived.
I ate a modest dinner of food and liquor bought from the inn, then lay down on the bed. After tossing and turning for a long while, I drifted off to sleep.
I woke feeling pleasantly warm beneath the blanket, heated by my own body.
Beyond the paper window, which had been lost in darkness, a pale light was beginning to seep in.
Birds were singing on the hill behind the house, and from the distant bamboo grove came the soft rustling of leaves, crisp and clear.
Only then did it truly feel as if I had come home.
I lay there for a long time, listening, half expecting Soso to open the door any second and slap my backside, telling me to get up.
When I opened the window, I saw the familiar walls and hills, and beyond them, a hometown that had changed beyond recognition—every bit as unfamiliar as I was.
I couldn’t go back to being the eleven-year-old who’d never had a single drop of blood on his hands, but I decided to believe it anyway. The days ahead would be different.
After all, I had come home.