The Price of Insult (4)
“Fine weather we're having.”
The sunlight filtering through the window was remarkably clear. It was safe to call it full-fledged autumn now. The breeze was cool, the sky crisp and blue. With fallen leaves still a ways off, the day felt all the more precious.
“Have some tea yourself.”
“Pardon? Ah, yes!”
Yi Geon set down the object perched on the bridge of his nose and gratefully accepted the teacup. Mo Yong Woo eyed the item with curiosity.
“Is that the aiche you've been talking about?”
“Pardon? Ah, this? Yes, it is. Come to think of it, I haven't shown it to you yet, Branch Leader.”
Mo Yong Woo smiled. “My apologies. I've been so swamped lately that I haven't given you proper attention.”
“Haha, no need for such words.”
Yi Geon picked up the aiche. “I got it through a trading firm. It's from the Western Regions, and remarkably, it makes letters appear large and sharp.”
“Is that so?”
“Would you like to try it?”
“No need. It's not polite to use someone else's belongings lightly.”
Yi Geon gave an awkward smile. Mo Yong Woo tilted his head.
“But do you really need something like that? With your internal energy, you could read letters engraved on grains of rice.”
“As you know, my energy isn't all-purpose.”
Mo Yong Woo nodded. Yi Geon wasn't originally from the Moyong family. He was someone who had crossed paths with Mo Yong Woo by chance, and out of gratitude for the man's grace, Yi Geon had volunteered to serve under him.
He was incredible back then.
In Mo Yong Woo's eyes, Yi Geon was a powerhouse—not just any powerhouse, but one who far surpassed him. If Yi Geon hadn't been gravely injured that day, Mo Yong Woo wouldn't have lasted even ten exchanges against him.
But Yi Geon's internal energy—or rather, his martial arts—came with clear drawbacks proportional to their immense power. That was why he couldn't properly utilize his energy in everyday situations.
“Anyway, ever since I got this aiche, work has picked up speed. I'm thinking we might try producing them ourselves.”
“It'll require some intricate craftsmanship. Even with materials, it won't be easy.”
“Haha, you're probably right.”
Mo Yong Woo leaned back in his chair. Yi Geon smiled.
“You look comfortable.”
Mo Yong Woo gave a wry smile. “My body's at ease. Freed from that mountain of paperwork, I hardly know what to do with myself.”
“Then your mind must be uneasy?”
Mo Yong Woo merely smiled. Of course it was. He had worries Yi Geon knew nothing about. And those worries would resolve one way or another. The problem was that, no matter how they resolved, even greater troubles awaited him afterward.
Worries, indeed.
A shadow of anguish crossed Mo Yong Woo's face. He recalled the letter from Yeon Hojeong.
'If Moyong Yeonhwa comes, you'll have to make a choice. Abandon them, or take them under your wing. Their lives all hang on your decision.'
Mo Yong Woo closed his eyes.
'Other people's lives depending on my choice...'
It was a heavy burden. For years, he had shouldered responsibility for his subordinates. But this was on another level.
'People unconnected to the martial world. Some even perform good deeds every year. And they might end up destitute because of one decision from me.'
Mo Yong Woo sighed. Yi Geon tilted his head.
“What's wrong?”
“Hm? Nothing. Just feeling drowsy.”
“Hahaha! Who knows when you'll be swamped again. Best to rest thoroughly while you can.”
“You're right.”
The two exchanged smiles and light banter. How much time passed like that?
...?
The breeze from the window felt a touch chillier. Mo Yong Woo spoke calmly.
“Yi Geon.”
“Yes, Branch Leader.”
“Bring him in.”
Yi Geon's expression hardened. “Be careful.”
“Don't worry.”
Yi Geon rose with a stack of documents and left the office. Moments later.
“Branch Leader. Someone from the main family has arrived.”
“Show them in.”
The door creaked open, revealing a woman. Her beauty wasn't the sort to stun at first glance, but it drew the eye all the same. The luxurious silk robe suited her perfectly.
The woman, Moyong Yeonhwa, bowed her head. “Yeonhwa greets Uncle. It's been too long.”
Mo Yong Woo stood. “Indeed, it has.”
Moyong Yeonhwa. In truth, their age gap wasn't that wide. She had been born when Mo Yong Woo was just starting his serious sword training as a youth. An eleven-year difference between uncle and niece was close enough for familiarity.
Yet a subtle wall stood between Mo Yong Woo and Moyong Yeonhwa. An invisible barrier they had both erected for each other's sake.
Moyong Yeonhwa smiled brightly. “A full year?”
“Something like that.”
“You've grown even more handsome in my absence, Uncle. Step into town, and the women will line up.”
Mo Yong Woo smiled bitterly. “I'm nearly thirty and still unmarried. I suspect I'll stay that way.”
“Hohoho, you can't do that. What woman in the world would turn you down?”
Not even close kin would broach such topics lightly. Moyong Yeonhwa treated her uncle not as family, but as some distant elder stranger.
“Forget me. I hope you find a good match first.”
“I'm not ready yet. The family has far too much on its plate.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. So much it's driving me mad. Father piles on the work endlessly.”
“Must be tough.”
“What can I do? He trusts me that much.”
Mo Yong Woo felt a twinge of surprise inwardly.
Did I know she could say things like that?
They'd exchanged only a few words, but he sensed a change in Moyong Yeonhwa. He couldn't pinpoint what, exactly. But one thing was clear: the sturdy wall around her had developed clear cracks, unlike before.
She grumbled about busyness, yet boasted subtly. A side she'd never shown.
Has her heart been shaken by something lately?
Well, now wasn't the time to worry about her.
“I've kept you standing too long. Sit.”
“Yes! Ah, you're having tea.”
“It's not bad.”
“Pour me a cup too?”
Mo Yong Woo flinched. Pour her tea? No matter how outcast from the family, a niece didn't ask her uncle for that. It flew in the face of propriety.
He looked at Moyong Yeonhwa. She smiled sweetly.
“Something on my face?”
She's different. The more they talked, the more he saw it.
Forcing a smile.
A mask utterly unlike her usual one. To Mo Yong Woo, she clearly strained.
He stared at his niece, then asked bluntly, “You want me to pour you tea?”
“Yes.”
Moyong Yeonhwa tilted her head with a smile. “Why? Is there some reason you can't?”
“...”
“You're not offended, are you?”
Mo Yong Woo wasn't offended at all. If anything, her reaction eased his tension, granting him leisure. It was so unexpected he briefly wondered if it was a trap.
Of course, his instincts told him it wasn't.
I don't know why, but...
Beyond the smile, he sensed her fragilely held self.
Good. That's a relief.
Mo Yong Woo had feared Moyong Yeonhwa—not her existence, but where her wayward path might lead. He didn't want her living a life as ruthless as her father's.
He rose. “I'll brew you the finest.”
“Thank you. You're the only one I can count on, Uncle.”
“Even empty words are appreciated.”
Mo Yong Woo lit the brazier by the window and gently heated water. Moyong Yeonhwa glanced around the office.
“More books than before?”
“I read a lot in my downtime.”
“Heh, really? What are you into these days...”
“Finish your tea and head back to the family.”
Moyong Yeonhwa's eyes hardened. The natural flow snapped short.
She looked at him. His back, heating water, resembled a scholar's.
“Sorry, I must have misheard. What did you say?”
“Finish your tea and go.”
“Uncle.”
“I've seen your face. That's enough. We have nothing more to discuss.”
Cold words. Moyong Yeonhwa panicked inwardly—and anger simmered in equal measure.
“Nothing to discuss with me?”
“That's right.”
“I doubt that.”
“My intent is clear, no matter what you say. No need for further talk between us.”
Mo Yong Woo turned. Moyong Yeonhwa flinched. He smiled bitterly at her.
“You have no interest in my personal affairs anyway.”
“I...”
“Yes.”
Mo Yong Woo nodded, cutting her off. “You're here on the family head's orders. To observe and swallow up the Zhejang Trade Alliance, right?”
“...”
“I won't entertain that notice. So drink your tea and go.”
Moyong Yeonhwa's face stiffened. “Won't entertain it... Unexpected. I didn't think you'd be so rude, Uncle.”
“I'm surprised too. Didn't expect you to have fallen so far.”
“...!!”
“I'm not sure if your father knows your state, but heart wounds don't heal easily. Pull yourself together first.”
“...How amusing.”
Genuine fury flickered in Moyong Yeonhwa's eyes. “I'm here representing the main family. Even as uncle, you owe me proper courtesy.”
“A family representative is still my niece. The world's decorum may have crumbled, but your manners are far too lacking to overlook.”
“...!!”
“Go back and rest for months. What you need isn't more work—it's time to reflect.”
Moyong Yeonhwa's eyes twitched. More work? Reflect?
This...!
A curse nearly escaped. Her fragile pride nearly shattered.
Yeon Hojeong, the merchants' heirs—they all scorned her. Now even her exiled uncle did too.
Bam!
Moyong Yeonhwa shoved back her chair and stood. “Branch Leader Moyong.”
Mo Yong Woo's eyes deepened. She continued coldly.
“Bring all trade logs. Now.”
An unabashed command. Mo Yong Woo shook his head.
“No such logs exist. And even if they did, I wouldn't show you.”
“Branch Leader! I said bring the documents!”
“As your uncle, I'll say it again. If you won't drink the tea, leave.”
“You...!”
Trembling with rage, Moyong Yeonhwa shouted out the window. “Captain Jeokpung! To the office—now!”
Mo Yong Woo shook his head. “Don't.”
“Shut up!”
Moyong Yeonhwa ground her teeth. “I've treated you with uncle's grace all this time, and now you've forgotten your place. Be grateful Father hasn't purged you!”
Mo Yong Woo remained silent.
Bam!
The door burst open. Cheon In-sang entered. “You called, Young Lady?”
Moyong Yeonhwa pointed at Mo Yong Woo. “Subdue him immediately! We're escorting him to the main house!”
“...”
“What are you waiting for? Now—!”
Moyong Yeonhwa's eyes widened like full moons.
Thud!
Cheon In-sang collapsed forward. Behind him stood Yi Geon.
“Yeonhwa.”
Startled, Moyong Yeonhwa looked at Mo Yong Woo. His eyes blazed blue.
“Go back to the main house. Now.”