Daoists Who Rob Like Bandits
Dong! Dong! Dong! The bells rang out clamorously, and warriors poured out from every corner of the Iron Blood Family stronghold. Defensive troops took up positions atop the walls that served as battlements.
Sama Song hurried toward the main gate. It was already teeming with people, all staring at the approaching forces that had blackened the road leading to the Iron Blood Family, murmuring uneasily.
“Looks like the Jecheon Army?”
“Damn it. Why the hell are those bastards coming at us again?!”
“Battle stations! Battle stations!”
“Activate the defenses! Move quickly!”
As the Jecheon Army banners came into view, the warriors shifted into full defensive protocol.
Sinhwi approached Sama Song's side. He narrowed his eyes at the oncoming troops.
“Something feels off, doesn't it?”
“What do you mean?”
“For invaders, their advance is too slow. And their formation looks downright sloppy...”
Sinhwi trailed off. Someone was racing toward them like the wind.
A moment later, he recognized Seo-wi-ryang and frowned again.
“Why's that guy...”
“Isn't that Seo the escort?”
Sama Song's eyes widened in surprise. By then, Seo-wi-ryang had reached the gate. He scratched his head awkwardly at the sight of everyone on high alert.
“I should've sent word ahead, but there was no one to do it.”
“What are you talking about? And what's with those troops?”
“These are twenty thousand elite soldiers from the Jecheon Army that my lord has brought under his command. I'll explain everything once we're inside, so stand down the defenses first. No point making the warriors suffer needlessly.”
“...”
Soon after, the full story spread, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Cheers erupted at the news of another twenty thousand troops added to their ranks.
Someone remarked, “At this rate, Jang Cheon didn't just rebel—he handed our lord a gift of forty thousand elite soldiers. Maybe we can forgive the bastard now?”
Everyone laughed. But one man couldn't join in the mirth: Songyeong. He'd barely scraped together the funds to house the first twenty thousand from the rear guard. Now another twenty thousand had him worrying more than celebrating.
“Where the hell am I going to get the money for this...”
Time flowed on like running water. After setting out for the Golden Merchant Group and unexpectedly acquiring twenty thousand elite troops, Yeon-hoo pressed on relentlessly toward Hobeok Province. Thanks to that, they arrived in Wuhan—home to the Golden Merchant Group's headquarters—two days ahead of schedule.
“Whoa...”
Yuksoon couldn't close his gaping mouth. Wuhan's markets were larger and more splendid than any city he'd ever seen.
Yeon-hoo felt the same. He'd traversed the world and visited countless cities, but Wuhan was on another level entirely. Just looking at it filled his chest with grandeur, steeling his resolve.
I'll make the North like this someday.
“My lord, shall we eat first?”
“Yeah.”
They entered the largest inn in the market district. The ground floor was packed, so they headed upstairs, where the atmosphere screamed luxury.
Yeon-hoo claimed a window seat without a care and scanned the room. His gaze sharpened on one table.
Three daoists in robes and topknots were dining at a nearby table, each armed with a sword—an unusual sight.
Daoists carrying weapons...
But that wasn't all. The aura they exuded was far from ordinary.
“They look like Wudang Sect daoists.”
Yeon-hoo had heard of them. A sect that had established its main hall on Wudang Mountain a few years back, rumored to consist entirely of sword masters. Alongside the Shaolin Temple on Henan Province's Mount Song—which had been making waves for over a decade—they were one of the factions drawing the world's attention.
“There are seven more places like that gaining fame. Martial artists started calling them the Nine Great Sects.”
Yeon-hoo had heard that too. These sects, founded by Daoist or Buddhist affiliates on the world's great sacred mountains, boasted exceptional skills, earning them the collective title.
Notably, several fell within the territories of the White Night Eight Great Families, yet they all refused subordination.
“Too bad we don't have even one like that in the North.”
“They're devotees serving gods with their own purposes. Even if we had one, they'd never submit.”
“Pardon? These god-worshippers train like mad in martial arts that kill people quickest and easiest? I think they've got their own agenda.”
“Shut it.”
“...Yes, sir.”
At that moment, one of the Wudang daoists glanced toward Yeon-hoo. Their eyes met across the void, but the daoist looked away first.
Just then, their food arrived. A few bites confirmed it was exquisite. The inn's house brew had a fragrance unknown in the North, with a savory depth like fine cuisine.
“No wonder it's packed despite the prices. Damn, this is incredible.”
Yuksoon marveled nonstop. Yeon-hoo drifted into other thoughts.
How can I let ordinary Northerners enjoy food like this?
The answer was circulating money, and to do that, developing the mines came first. He'd also sketched plans en route to fund warhorse purchases: animal husbandry. The North was ideal for it, and properly exploited, it could rival mining profits.
Of course, securing basic funds was the priority now.
A chuckle escaped him. Becoming lord officially had shifted his entire worldview.
Even pondering this over a meal...
Yeon-hoo set down his chopsticks and lifted his cup. Idly glancing out the window at the market below, his eyes sharpened on a procession.
Armed escorts flanked three central wagons: a merchant caravan. The red banners emblazoned with golden “Golden” characters marked them as the Golden Merchant Group.
What caught Yeon-hoo's eye wasn't the guards, but the middle-aged man in a blue robe beside the lead wagon's driver.
What rare cargo demands a master like that personally escort it?
Yeon-hoo instinctively knew the man was a top-tier expert. His intuitions never failed.
“Golden Merchant Group headquarters that way?”
“Yes.”
“Then we'll tail them. Finish up.”
“There's still some liquor left. Shame to waste it—I'll down it...”
Yuksoon trailed off, eyes bulging. Yeon-hoo had chugged the bottle straight and stood.
The Wudang daoists rose then, heading downstairs. Yeon-hoo and Yuksoon naturally followed.
Outside, the daoists vanished into an alley across the street. Yeon-hoo and Yuksoon retrieved their horses from the stable and shadowed the caravan.
No one paid them mind in the bustling markets. But once they left the crowds for quieter roads, the rear guards started glancing back.
Yuksoon, wary of trouble, flashed his affable grin.
“We're just headed the same way—no need to mind us.”
“Where to?”
“Yong River area.”
The Yong River cut through the city housing the Golden Merchant Group's headquarters. The guards exchanged looks, nodded silently, and faced forward.
Yuksoon whistled at them.
“Swords decked in gold fittings... How the hell did the Golden Merchant Group amass such insane wealth?”
“Ask the group leader yourself later.”
“...Yes, sir.”
Clop, clop.
Yeon-hoo let his warhorse's rhythm carry him while surveying the scenery. If the markets epitomized opulence, the outskirts evoked scenic wonders.
“Hahaha!”
“Hohoho!”
Picnickers everywhere laughed over food and drink, a vivid testament to the city's peace, safety, and prosperity.
Yeon-hoo reaffirmed his vow: I'll make the North exactly like this.
Then, a startling sight: Leisure-goers waved and greeted the passing caravan. Some bowed deeply, groveling in respect.
The blue-robed man called out, “Enjoying the park?”
“Yes! Thank you so much for creating such a beautiful park! My family and I are having the time of our lives! May you be blessed!”
“We pray daily to Buddha for Your Excellency's long life!”
“Long live the Golden Merchant Group!”
Woooah!
Yeon-hoo realized: The Golden Merchant Group had crafted this idyllic landscape—and earned the people's unwavering support.
Impossible not to succeed like this. Is it shrewd management, or is the man himself extraordinary?
Curiosity surged about the Golden Merchant Group leader.
Then—
Shweeeek!
Boom! Boom!
Neighhh!
Arrows whistled, horses screamed and bucked. The road stained red with blood as wagons toppled.
“Ambush! Form up defenses!”
“Watch the woods!”
Yeon-hoo reined in, eyeing the guards snapping into formation.
“Bandits, right?”
“We'll see.”
“Bored anyway—nice entertainment. But who dares target the mighty Golden Merchant Group?”
“Not your average bandits.”
“Huh?”
As Yuksoon blinked in confusion, Yeon-hoo nodded toward the left woods.
The left side had thinner trees than the right, dotted with pavilions for rest. People from one were leaping toward the wagons—covering ten zhang in a single bound, a feat for experts only.
Krunch!
“Argh!”
The first casualty: a lead-wagon guard charging airborne assailants, only to lose his head.
That was when Yeon-hoo muttered oddly.
“Daoists who rob like bandits...”