The Poisonous Loving Mother
"I'll inquire with the Manor Lord and get back to you."
Even Cheongu had heard the tales of Dokjamo—they were that famous. Beyond the distinctive color of her palms, the wheelchair that carried her son was equally well-known, leaving no room for doubt.
"I'll wait at the Hang-a Inn over there. Please contact me."
She even bowed her head politely in farewell before heading to the largest inn by the harbor.
"Who was that woman?"
Ja Gangcheon had been at Cheongu's side from the moment the conversation began.
"If I'm right, she's the female master known by the moniker Dokjamo. Beyond that, I don't know much."
Cheongu, too, knew her only by rumor.
"She seems to have come for medicine. What's going on?"
"We'll find out once we meet her."
"You're going to meet her right away?"
Ja Gangcheon considered it for a moment, then shook his head.
"She's no ordinary master. We need to look into her first."
Cheongu's expression asked the obvious question: How?
"Look over there. They seem even more startled than we are."
Several men who had spotted Dokjamo Song Jain entering the Hang-a Inn rushed off somewhere in a hurry.
"Going to ask Haomun?"
"Yeah."
Ja Gangcheon and Cheongu followed after them.
Yeonhui, leader of Cheon-o Dan of Haomun's Shandong branch.
She oversaw one of the five discreetly operated branches across Shandong Province. Her original post had been in the imperial capital, yet these days she spent far more time in Gyounam.
I intend to relocate Cheon-o Branch to Gyounam.
She had submitted the request, and approval was expected soon. Haomun prioritized profit and survival over history; as long as the reason was sound, moving to a better location posed no problem. Moreover, Gyounam's black market now ranked among the most profitable branches not only in Shandong but nationwide.
Which means I can do whatever I want.
Haomun ran strictly on results. At this rate, the next Shandong Branch Master position was likely hers—making her the number one figure in the province. The current Shandong Branch Master, who was on track to ascend to the core Hao Zhong Council at headquarters, actively supported her rise.
"Danju-nim. Last month's revenue ledger."
The moment she checked the long-awaited ledger, a radiant smile bloomed across her face—genuine, without a trace of pretense. Lately there had been many reasons to smile like this.
Today will be another good day, just like yesterday, she thought—until:
"Danju-nim. The Lord of Deungmyeong Manor has come calling."
"What? That bastard came here in person?"
"Yes. He just entered our market. What shall we do?"
Her pleasant mood plummeted at once.
"Escort him to the Yeonok Hall and prepare everything without shortcoming."
"Yes, Danju-nim."
Yeonhui let out a long breath, then began arranging her hair and adjusting her clothes. For her, this was combat preparation.
At the same time.
"Wow. It's changed this much."
Ja Gangcheon was genuinely astonished.
This was nothing like the old black market where people covered their mouths and haggled in dim alleys. The residential rows lining both sides of the street had had their walls torn down so the interiors stood fully open. Naturally every house now connected in a long stretch, goods neatly arranged in the courtyards for browsing. The shacks and hovels that once marked the slums had transformed into proper shops.
What's more, Haomun agents stationed at every alley would guide customers straight to the right place the moment they named what they wanted. Their manners were as courteous as the servants of any pleasure house, making patrons open their purses without a second thought.
"Looks like we sold it too cheap."
"Tell me about it. I knew it was doing well, but I never imagined this much."
Most surprising of all were the goods they handled. Being a black market did not mean it dealt only in dangerous items—those were actually a tiny minority.
So what filled the black market?
"This many smuggled goods?"
Fully eighty percent of the merchandise was contraband.
"It's not just goods brought in without permits that count as smuggled."
"Then what?"
"Anything outside the authorized limits. Take that ginseng over there—the imperial palace sets a fixed annual quota. Anything beyond that quota ends up in places like this. Those silks are the opposite: goods that already exceeded export quotas and can't be sold through official channels, so they get peddled here instead."
Cheongu understood the black market's workings thoroughly—so well that even the Haomun guide walking beside them nodded along.
And that was not all.
"There's one more decisive difference: the absolute finest goods."
"What do you mean?"
"In legitimate trade, items scoring eight or higher out of ten change hands. Nine-point pieces are treated as luxury goods and traded separately. But perfect ten-point items never appear in those channels—their rarity doesn't translate into a high enough price."
"Ah. So here, bargaining is free."
"Exactly. That's why people say the truly precious things are found in the black market. And the ones who come looking for such things are rarely ordinary folk."
They could immediately see why Haomun clung so fiercely to the black market. It built not only wealth but connections as well.
"This way, please."
They were led to a wooden house that looked rather respectable for the slums—eye-catching here, yet ordinary by regular marketplace standards. After crossing the narrow courtyard and opening a shabby wooden door, however, an entirely different scene unfolded.
Blue carpets harmonized with crimson drapes hanging from the ceiling; an elegant white tea set rested on a marble table. A woman in clear sky-blue robes received them.
Lips curved like a crescent moon. Half-lidded, alluring eyes. Every step she took held the room in breathless focus.
Feeling as though he had stepped into another world, Ja Gangcheon said,
"Noona. Why are your eyes open like that?"
Yeonhui flinched.
"Making money and already living in luxury, huh. You have to save to live well. You need to know how scary money is."
It was a line Cheongu had once said to Ja Gangcheon. From Yeonhui's perspective, hearing it from Ja Gangcheon was the most unpleasant part of all.
"Well, how you spend your own money is your freedom."
Ja Gangcheon settled into the chair beside the marble table.
"Are you going to keep standing?"
Swallowing her rising irritation, Yeonhui sat across from him. Once Cheongu took a seat as well, someone poured tea for them.
"Huh? It's that noona."
She was the woman who, on the day they first met Yeonhui, had been tailing Ja Gangcheon before fleeing. Today she wore neither mask nor black clothes, but feminine red silk robes. The impression was completely different from their first encounter, yet Ja Gangcheon remembered her perfectly.
"So you managed to stay alive. Guess they don't give out suicide missions anymore."
"No such missions have ever been ordered."
Her stiff tone clashed with the clothes she wore today.
"You're still doing it now."
"What do you mean?"
"If the person who once watched me gets this close, I could kill her and no one would have grounds to complain. Don't you think?"
"That's pure speculation!"
When the woman finally snapped, Ja Gangcheon's hand moved.
Riiip!
The fabric near her waist tore open, and the atmosphere inside shifted at once. The Haomun agents who had been holding back drew their weapons; the woman covered the torn spot with her hand and glared at Ja Gangcheon.
Then the sound that followed made everyone swallow hard.
Clang.
A small knife and a scrap of torn cloth dropped together from Ja Gangcheon's hand.
"Th-that is…"
"Enough!"
Yeonhui cut off her subordinate's excuse.
"You must know it wasn't meant to harm the Manor Lord."
Judging by where the weapon had been hidden, drawing it would have been quite inconvenient. Had an ambush been planned, it would have been placed somewhere far more accessible.
"Removing a threat in advance is my choice."
"Then did you expect us not to take even this much precaution when you walk into our branch? Haomun prepares for every situation. If you dislike it, don't barge in unannounced—send an invitation. I'll come to the manor myself."
In front of her subordinates she was quite firm, clearly signaling she would not shy from a show of force. Seeing this, Cheongu stepped in to mediate.
"We're the guests here. We came without notice, so we should understand at least this much."
"Is that so?"
"In return, when Haomun people visit our manor, they'll receive the exact same treatment."
A smile tugged at Ja Gangcheon's lips. He had seen Yeonhui's eyebrows twitch.
"As Noona says, next time I'll invite you to the manor."
"By all means."
In the end Yeonhui found herself making an uncomfortable promise. She found Cheongu, who kept planting verbal daggers from the side, even more detestable than Ja Gangcheon.
"Well then, would you care to tell me why you came looking for me?"
"I came to give you information."
"What information?"
"Dokjamo Song Jain has come to Gyounam!"
He raised his voice with deliberate exaggeration, yet no one reacted.
"Did you think we wouldn't know?"
"I came the moment I saw her face—you've already noticed?"
"We have people at the harbor as well. You won't call that a problem too, will you?"
"Then do you know this as well? Song Jain came to meet me."
Yeonhui paused for a moment. That piece of information she had not known. Given how many had overheard it, she would learn soon enough—but not yet.
"You wish to know about Song Jain?"
"That's right."
"If you also tell me what you discussed when you met her, I'll share what I know."
She was offering present information as collateral for future intelligence.
"I'll tell you why she came. Nothing more. It's not as if I'm asking for any great secret."
"There might be a great secret."
"If I need that, I'll hear it myself."
"Very well. Then I'll give only as much information as the price you've paid."
Information, after all, varied in value. Yeonhui balanced an imaginary scale and organized what she would say.
"Dokjamo Song Jain. A master from Guangdong Province. There are rumors she was an officer of the mysterious group known as Poison Valley, though that remains unconfirmed. In the current martial world she is regarded as unmatched in poison arts."
The purple palms famous as her hallmark were the traces of those very arts.
"Her love affair with a physician once called the greatest in Sichuan is widely known. The middle-aged bachelor doctor saved her when she was dying from qi deviation, and eventually they married. But the marriage ended in tragedy. He succeeded in saving his wife, only to die himself from poison. And that tragedy passed on to her son. He clings to life somehow with the medical texts his father left behind, yet the boy remains in grave danger."
Yeonhui continued her concise yet focused account.
"Unlike her personal story, her methods are extremely cruel. She never leaves an enemy alive. She is the strongest mother in the world, and at the same time its most merciless master. That is how the moniker Dokjamo was born."
That was the extent of the information she offered, and Ja Gangcheon was satisfied with it.
"Hmm. Noona is quite a convenient person."
"What do you mean by that?"
It was an assessment she had never heard in her life.
"If I'd had to dig this up myself, it would've taken at least a day or two. Coming to you finished it in a single gak."
"That is the value of Haomun."
Ja Gangcheon nodded as if in acknowledgment.
"I'll drop by often from now on."
"Next time, please send word first. It was far too sudden, so our preparations were inadequate."
"True, they were a bit lacking."
"In which part were they inadequate?"
Yeonhui demanded hotly. Ja Gangcheon rose from his seat as he answered.
"The wrinkles around your eyes. You didn't quite cover them all today."
With a bright smile, Ja Gangcheon left; Cheongu followed with a soft snicker escaping his lips.
Watching them go, Yeonhui slowly clenched her fists until her entire body began to tremble. Then she slammed the table in a fit of temper and shouted,
"Bring me wine!"
The fire rising inside her could not be soothed by tea.