Chaos in the International Trade City - 5
Lee In-im, the elder who had declared under his orders that ginseng sales would be cut by a tenth starting next year. Though it wasn't an official proclamation—just a mutter in Goryeo dialect to a nearby merchant—it was loud enough for every Daesong trader in earshot to catch. Thanks to that, I could vividly remember the face of this man I'd met only once. Plus, despite his pure white hair, he had a sturdy build more fitting of a scholar than a merchant, with a neatly trimmed beard that left a strong impression.
"You're here. I'm glad we meet again sooner than expected."
His words, claiming he'd been looking for me, instantly put me on guard. I had clear reason to remember him, but to him, I was just some passing young lord. No reason for him to remember me or go searching.
"What business do you have with me? Seems we have no prior dealings."
I spoke bluntly. What on earth could bring him here?
"Ah, I've come to express thanks and apologies. We ended up using a prince of another realm for our own purposes, after all."
"What?"
I furrowed my brow at his words. As suspected, he'd muttered about ginseng quotas and Lee In-im to stir up chaos. But it also meant he'd sized me up on sight and played me. No way to let that slide.
"Threatening to control ginseng supply is fine, but if the rumor drags on too long, it's no good for us. If Daesong merchants flip out and hunt for alternatives, that's trouble."
"So you dropped hints in front of this prince, waiting for me to report straight to Dong-gu Wang?"
The moment I realized he knew my identity and had exploited it, I dropped the honorifics. No need to elevate someone who'd used me.
"Exactly. Didn't expect you'd be so diligent, though."
The elder shrugged and lifted a small pouch from his belt.
"Not much in return, but I brought a few roots of ginseng. Hope you put them to good use."
I beckoned Jo Wi-cheo, who approached and took the pouch from the elder. Infuriating, but you take what's offered. Ginseng is hard to get even with money when reservations pile up.
"...How did you know?"
"Know what?"
"Goryeo merchants visit Daesong lands often, but they rarely stray beyond Hangzhou. I don't visit often myself, yet you pegged me as a prince on sight?"
With the ginseng secured, I pressed him. It'd make sense if I frequented Hangzhou or worked central bureaucracy. Former: Goryeo merchants would've seen me often. Latter: my looks would've spread via envoys. But neither applied. No way my face circulated in Goryeo.
Goryeo's spy network this extensive?
That would mean their eyes and ears tracked me across Daesong—
"Only princes ride white deer in these Central Plains."
Ah.
"Hangzhou draws merchants from everywhere. They all gossip about the prince on the white deer. Even this old Goryeo traveler learned of you."
I rubbed my forehead as he chuckled heartily. Right. Riding Kki-ing-i openly makes anonymity impossible.
"Plus, I hear your fiancée has beauty that makes the moon hide and flowers blush. Thought it exaggeration, like most rumors, but seeing her now... the tales fall short."
His flattery doused my solo suspicions and anger. I'd overreacted to my own walking business card. Embarrassing.
Somehow, I ended up at the inn his caravan rented, treated to a simple meal. He claimed ginseng too meager repayment for the debt to a prince. Could've refused, but my earlier rudeness nagged, so I went along. Riding Kki-ing-i so boldly then asking "How did you know?" was black history I'd cringe over for a week under the covers. Still mortified. Did watching that ginseng bonfire roast my brains too...?
"To be frank, cutting sales by a tenth wasn't mere bluff."
As I fretted over possible intelligence drop from inner injuries courtesy of Koke Temur, the elder—who'd been sipping—dropped a bombshell.
"Ginseng gets royal treatment here, but it's no commonplace item in Goryeo. Hard for humans to mass-produce, naturally."
He tapped the table with a finger, then set down his cup gently.
"Of course, a tenth cut is exaggeration. No merchant tosses away a tenth of their livelihood. But reducing supply? That's genuine, not trade pressure."
I nodded silently. If Goryeo were remote, fine—but it's a short sea hop away. If ginseng overflowed there, Daesong merchants would've stormed Seogyeong or Kaepyeong for bulk buys. Goryeo's territory and army had ballooned lately too. Consumption rises, doesn't drop. His words rang true, but—
Why tell me?
I'm no merchant, no Hangzhou ties.
"Simple reason I tell you this, prince."
Noticing my confusion, he smiled faintly and leaned forward.
"Less ginseng sales means fewer goods we can buy. Obvious logic, but sadly, Goryeo craves Central Plains silk and porcelain like we do ginseng here. Cut our supply, and the bigwigs riot."
"Can't be helped, no? Less to sell, less to buy."
"Obvious to you, prince, but the elites won't yield an inch. We peddlers foot the bill."
He snorted, then grew serious.
"So, from next year, we'll sell our ginseng exclusively to Dong-gu Wang."
"...What?"
"Whatever he does—monopolize, dump in the sea, resell at tenfold—we won't interfere."
Even trade-illiterate me gulped at the bombshell. Ginseng draws every fat cat in the realm. Murim sects scrape for it since spirit beasts dried up. Goryeo merchants skipping civilians to sell all to Dong-gu Wang? Hands off how he handles it?
"In return, we hope Dong-gu Wang understands our plight. If elites rage... hard for us to sail to Hangzhou."
Of course, no free lunch. Exclusive ginseng for ample silk and porcelain. Without ginseng, I'd curse—but as trade? Dong-gu Wang would squeeze Sichuan dry for it. Silk and pots trivial for ginseng monopoly.
"Hah, invited to repay a debt, but all I did was whine."
My silence drew his laugh as he reclaimed his cup.
Damn old fox. Knows I'll run to Dong-gu Wang with this bait?
Too juicy to ignore.
Spot on. Tempted to bolt now.
A few hours after the Left Vice Inspector General withdrew. Why send a messenger pigeon from within Hangzhou? Baffling—until I read it. My mind froze.
Goryeo merchants are considering exclusive ginseng supply to Your Highness. Though less volume than before, they'll sell to no one else but you—requesting guarantees for smooth Hangzhou operations.
Goryeo folk who'd sold ginseng to civilians now offering exclusive to me. Costly in silk and porcelain, but I'd snag their gold and silver. Managing what Daesong merchants monopolized? I could trickle it to foreign traders starving in Hangzhou. Bait drawing more merchants.
As expected, Goryeo knows propriety and rites.
Peace settled. Unlike Mongol bandits, Goryeo's mild, wise, courteous. Proper vassal to Daesong's premier tributary. Frequent clashes with others? Desperate little eastern state scraping coin. Broad-minded forgiveness.
Merchants thrive on competition.
Crushing rivals is their way. If Goryeo dominates foreigners, natural order—their skill. Decided to see it that way.