The Young Master's Empty Pockets
At this point, it was time to hear from the stepmother's side too...
Even if Namgung Ji lived like a playboy, he didn't slum it in back-alley dives grabbing at skirts like some gutter thug. No matter how much his half-siblings pushed him around, he was still the Nangong family's eldest son and young master. From the start, Namgung Ji had no intention of lowering himself to seedy spots. His pride was still alive and kicking.
But today, his money pouch felt especially light. Only one reason for that. The family head, Nangong Myeong, had strictly ordered a sharp cut to the funds Namgung Ji could freely use.
Money didn't just sprout from the ground because he was the Nangong heir. He lived off the family's stipend, and with that lifeline nearly choked off, his pouch was bound to be thin.
"Fucking annoying."
Namgung Ji stopped short in irritation. Then he barked at empty air where no one stood.
"Come out."
Surprisingly, a figure in azure robes slipped out from nowhere. A bodyguard. One of the elite guards from the Nangong family's Azure Shadow Squad, tasked with protection. True to their secretive role, the identities of the squad members were shrouded in mystery, but each was known to possess formidable martial prowess. Especially those guarding the direct bloodline—they were the cream of the crop among the elite. Masters among masters.
To such a master, Namgung Ji casually tossed out, "Got any money?"
"None, Young Master."
"Tch, useless."
"......"
Even for the young master, it was rudeness beyond measure. Each snide remark chipped away at his reputation within the family, shrinking his standing bit by bit. But Namgung Ji didn't care. Or rather, he didn't even notice.
His inferiority complex and victim mentality had twisted him completely; only his own feelings mattered now. Sure, he had more than enough blame for his own cold-shoulder treatment, but he was the only one blind to it.
"Really none?"
"That's correct, Young Master."
"Then fuck off."
"Pardon?"
"I don't need you, so get lost."
"I can't accept that order."
"Newbie, huh? I hate feeling watched, so scram right now. Didn't the seniors tell you?"
"......"
"I said scram."
"Understood, Young Master."
In the end, the guard vanished. Gone, just like that.
Only then did Namgung Ji's expression ease a fraction.
"What the hell do I need a guard for in Anhui anyway? Pointless bullshit."
The Nangong family ruled Anhui unchallenged. Even a Nangong dog would get the red-carpet treatment there. Let alone the young master? No one in their right mind would touch a hair on his head.
That's why Namgung Ji saw the guards as his stepmother's spies. Not his father—Dad didn't like him much but held no real grudge, he knew that. The problem was solely the stepmother.
She was a two-faced monster. In front of Father or anyone else, she treated him like her own flesh and blood. But alone? She looked at him like an enemy, cold and stern as ice. As a kid, the massive mental shock had left him sobbing in terror countless nights.
He'd begged the adults, including his father, to hear the truth time and again. But no one believed him. They just figured the boy who lost his real mom was badmouthing his stepmom out of grief.
It spoke volumes about how terrifying her cunning and acting skills were.
After that, Namgung Ji naturally started avoiding her on purpose. How could he not, with that fear gnawing at him? And that isolation only pushed him further to the family's fringes.
"Hmph, just waiting to grab any weakness and sink her teeth in."
By now, Namgung Ji was fully convinced of it. Every guard was her spy. That's why he chased them all off one by one.
"Pisses me off. Makes me crave a drink even more."
Namgung Ji started walking again. Toward his usual haunt, Anhui's top tavern, Baekse Ru.
Baekse Ru.
It was a tavern, sure, but not just any dive—only the well-heeled could step inside. High-class, with food and booze to match, drawing Anhui's rich and elite like flies to honey. Namgung Ji was, of course, one of them.
"Over here."
Like a regular, he called out boldly from the entrance. The doorman scurried out. Proper taverns like this used them as the first filter for riffraff.
"Aigoo, Young Master! Welcome."
The doorman bowed and scraped as usual.
'Hm?'
But Namgung Ji's face soured. He'd caught it—the greeting lacked soul. No sincerity behind it.
Still, he let it slide for now. Could be his imagination. Never happened before.
He nodded curtly. "Yeah. Lead the way."
That's when it hit.
"Uh, well, that is..."
The doorman scratched his head awkwardly. Now Namgung Ji knew his gut feeling was spot on.
"What?"
He scowled.
"...Did you bring money, by chance?"
The doorman asked carefully, softening his tone for the Nangong young master. Anyone else flashing broke vibes would've gotten the boot with bulging eyes.
"That's the issue? I'll pay later, so hurry up and show me in. Not the first time—what's with the rookie act?"
Namgung Ji snapped back instead. Proper swagger from Anhui's overlord heir.
But.
"Aigoo, we know, we know. But see..."
"What? Spit it out."
"The manager said your tab's exceeded the limit, so hold off and report first..."
"What? That fucking manager!"
Namgung Ji bellowed in disbelief.
"Get him out here! Now!"
"Yes, right here, sir."
A smiling middle-aged man popped out. Hard to tell if he always grinned or just for the young master.
"Hah! You dared block my entry?"
Namgung Ji railed.
"Sorry, but yes. Merchants have credit limits, even for you. You've gone over, Young Master."
"You dare set limits against the Nangong family?"
"Even Buddha or the Primeval Lord of Heaven—we'd check limits. We don't dig holes for business."
"What?"
"I get the complaint. But keep this up, and we'll have to visit the Nangong estate ourselves for payment."
"Urk."
The manager stood firm, unbowed by the bluster. Namgung Ji faltered, especially at that last bit.
The family didn't know about his tab-racking. Baekse Ru had never snitched. He'd always appreciated their discretion—pay later when cash flowed.
But now? They'd march to the estate.
Disaster. Father wouldn't just scold; it'd be hell.
Namgung Ji's face twisted. But he rallied.
"Fine. Limits. Fill it, then. Here."
He flung his pouch irritably. Barely anything inside.
But surprisingly, the manager nodded.
"Good. Come in."
"Pardon?"
Now the doorman gaped. That featherweight pouch opening doors?
"Mind your business."
"Ah, y-yes..."
"This way, Young Master. I'll guide you."
The manager smiled. Namgung Ji smiled back.
"Heh, alright."
"......"
Namgung Ji barely swallowed a torrent of curses.
The room screamed cheap—drafty without even a door. The table? Stringy garbage meat and wilted veggie scraps. And the booze? Tart swill he'd never tasted; beggars wouldn't touch it.
'Fucking bastards!'
He trembled with rage, realizing the manager's game. Service matching the pittance paid.
He ached to flip the table, smash a bottle over the prick's head. But he held back. He knew he was in the wrong—world's laughingstock otherwise.
In the end, he decided to bail.
But.
'I'll remember this dogshit treatment!'
Even when at fault, Namgung Ji nursed grudges like fine wine. Time to hear the stepmother's side, maybe. For the family's future, she might've squeezed the wastrel son.
That's when it happened.
"Hah, what kind of customer service is this crap?"
A man appeared from nowhere, yelling. He strode up and did what Namgung Ji only dreamed of.
Bam!
Crash!
Shatter!
He kicked the table flying. Namgung Ji froze solid.
Too stunned by the wild turn.
"So trashy it's nauseating just to look at. What kind of shit-tier tavern is this?"
The man scowled, muttering his reason for the wreck.
In that moment, Namgung Ji felt a strange catharsis. Someone scratching his itch for him. Vicarious thrill, maybe.
Then the manager and guards rushed in. The manager's face was thunderous—his true colors for riffraff. Showed how much he'd endured for Namgung Ji the "VIP."
The manager glared like a blade.
"Daring to cause chaos in Baekse Ru? You've lost your damn mind..."
"How much?"
The man tossed money. A fat stack of glittering gold nyang.
"We'll serve with utmost care, sir!"
...The manager's back nearly kissed the floor.
Namgung Ji stared like he'd seen a new world.
"No need."
"Y-yes...?"
"Serve the customer you treated like garbage properly. Right?"
"W-well..."
Plop.
Gold flashed before their eyes again.
"Of course we'll serve him right!"