Where There's Money, There Are People - 5
Lately, my body hasn't been the same as it used to be. To be precise, the passion that drove my body wasn't what it once was.
Back in the day, the harder I worked, the clearer the rewards were.
I let out a small sigh while calculating the expenses from this trading expedition. Those fierce days when I fought tooth and nail to secure even a bit more stake and influence in Taizhou Prefecture. Back then, my efforts led straight to victory, and slacking off meant defeat. My actions determined the standing of our Cheongho Merchant Guild, translating directly into profit or loss. That's why I gritted my teeth and battled on. I poured my body and soul into every small win, every modest gain. Those were truly fulfilling days.
Now, no matter what I do, it's all the same.
But after countless victories and massive profits, there was nowhere left to go. All the competitors I could topple were gone, leaving only equals. To crush them, I'd have to risk everything, and even a hard-fought win would leave nothing behind—a nightmarish standoff. Even if I won, I'd just become someone else's prey in this perfectly balanced deadlock. That's why I couldn't muster any more passion. Effort changes nothing, and maintaining the status quo yields exactly the results I want. Unless I deliberately slack off, this won't change.
I can't live like this forever.
Another sigh escaped me. Sure, I entered the merchant world to restore my family fortunes lost in my father's generation, but as a man, I'd be lying if I said I had no ambitions. Becoming Taizhou's top merchant was just the start—I dreamed of a guild renowned across Zhejiang, and someday, south of the Yangtze. Though right now, I'm just floundering against the wall of reality.
If only I could touch a spirit beast...
And the farther my dreams felt, the taller that wall loomed, the more that thought consumed me. I'd achieved everything human effort could offer. To go further, only heaven's gifts remained. All that was left was to touch the spirit beasts bestowed by heaven. Only by handling heaven's emissaries could I advance. Only heaven's favor could let me scale reality's walls.
This wasn't just my thinking—everyone shared it.
"Thanks to the spirit beasts kept by Left Deputy Censor-in-Chief, we lifted the Four Evils' curse!"
"What? You really think touching a spirit beast works? Ha, no wonder I can't talk to you rookies who've never touched one!"
"Why do you think they're called spirit beasts? They carry mystical energy!"
Seeing those whiners about the Four Evils' curse now grinning ear to ear confirmed it. To advance, we needed heaven and nature's gifts—the spirit beasts. Only then could we escape this hellish stalemate.
But despite our desperate longing, I—we—couldn't reach them. Those who received the Left Deputy Censor-in-Chief's pity could touch them to lift curses, but we craved bigger gains. We weren't in a position for his mercy.
"It'd be better if no one could touch them at all."
I muttered my true feelings without thinking. If I couldn't have it, better no one did. If someone else surged ahead, I'd rather everyone stayed stuck. Lately, I'd been having nightmares of rivals monopolizing spirit beasts and crushing me. I woke up trembling every morning. Horrifying stuff.
"Guildmaster."
"What is it?"
As I shuddered recalling that near-bankruptcy nightmare, the chief steward's voice came from beyond the door.
"A guest from the government office."
"The government?"
An unexpected statement. A government guest? Not in the old days, but lately we hadn't done anything to draw official attention. No point in risky expansions that yielded nothing, so no need for scrutiny. Was there an issue with our donations? No, I handled those personally—no problems there.
"...What are they like?"
I racked my brains and asked casually about the guest's vibe.
"Ordinary."
The chief steward's reply was straightforward. Not angry, not overly pleased, not scheming—just normal. Still no clue why they came, but not a bad situation. Better than getting caught in an official's wrath.
"Escort them to the reception hall. I'll go right away."
I stood up. Keeping a government dignitary waiting would anger even a neutral one. Work could wait.
The moment I entered the reception hall, my mind went blank.
"The Left Deputy Censor-in-Chief seeks you."
"Pardon?"
"He'll explain the details, but congratulations. You've been chosen by the Left Deputy Censor-in-Chief."
"...Pardon?"
An unimaginable blessing had come my way.
I watched the Cheongho Merchant Guild's guildmaster prostrating before Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i. Next to the prone guildmaster, Buong-i was snuffling around with his trunk, and atop Buong-i's head, Sam-sik-i coiled comfortably. With Ppiae-i wandering nearby, five spirit beasts were blessing the guildmaster.
What a sight.
It was almost awe-inspiring to see him surrounded by five spirit beasts. So that's how I looked to others...
- Kki-ong.
Anyway, Kki-ong-i, who had been loafing in bread pose, let out a cry toward the bowing guildmaster.
"Yes, spirit beast! If there's anything you need—"
"It wants food."
"Boy! Bring every dish this inn can make!"
I spoke for Kki-ong-i, and the guildmaster immediately barked the order. Kki-ong-i's neck stiffened even more proudly. Of course—staying still brought a feast of delicacies.
Can't let her get spoiled like this.
Kki-ong-i wouldn't act haughty before me, but getting used to gourmet feasts would make future meals tricky. Next thing you know, I'd be eating plain noodles while my pet dined on braised pork and five-spice ham.
- Buooo~
Meanwhile, Buong-i tapped the guildmaster's head with his trunk. Unusual—Buong-i used his trunk like a hand, but never poked people's heads before.
"Uh...?"
"What's wrong?"
"No, it's just... my mind suddenly feels at ease."
The guildmaster, baptized by Buong-i's trunk, tilted his head with a brighter complexion.
"I've been having nightmares lately, unsettling me, but I can't remember what they were."
"What?"
"They say mak eat nightmares—it's true!"
I glanced at Buong-i, still snuffling. I'd heard mak's diet included iron, copper, bamboo, snakes—and nightmares—but figured it was exaggeration. How could a creature eat formless dreams? Turns out it was real. I'd never had nightmares myself, so now it was proven.
"Thank you so much, my lord! Already honored beyond measure, and now my worries are gone too! How can I ever repay this grace!"
Having endured spirit beast reception and nightmare absorption, the guildmaster prostrated again, eyes teary. Whether those tears were genuine like a Four Evils victims' group or shrewd merchant acting, I didn't know. Didn't matter either way.
"No need to call it grace. The court hasn't forgotten your family's devotion."
"Pardon?"
A few smooth words, and even a crafty merchant becomes a loyal subject.
"Your father used the courtesy name Yang Gang, I believe."
"Ah, yes. Correct. My father went by Yang Gang."
"Something unfortunate happened in his generation?"
"Yes. He was a notable landlord in Zhejiang, but lost the family fortune when I was young."
The guildmaster—Yang Jin—scratched his head sheepishly. Understandable. A merchant's father blowing the family wealth feels off. Makes you think the son might do the same big flop.
"With the house in ruins, my mother died of frustration, and the retainers scattered. Luckily, heaven granted this wretch talent in trade, so we recovered enough to eat."
"Truly tragic."
"Haha, water under the bridge now—"
"A loyal house unrewarded."
Before Yang Jin could retort, I handed him the scroll beside me.
"Your father, when the Founding Emperor rose in rebellion, gave everything for the greater cause. Sadly, he died young of illness, and records weren't properly kept, so no one knew until now."
Yang Jin unfurled the scroll with trembling hands. A father who bankrupted the family turns out a forgotten hero for the cause? How his limbs must shake, tears well up. For Yang Jin, scraping by on trade, it fills his life's sole regret, his unfulfilled honor lust.
"The court intends to grant you the glory your father never enjoyed. As long as you don't betray the court, we'll embrace you with mercy."
I patted Yang Jin's shoulder lightly.
"That's why you're the only one permitted to meet the spirit beasts. You deserve it."
"Deserve..."
His voice sank lower than before, but his eyes shone brighter. Classic Confucian world. Reviving father and house honor? Instant effect.
After that, no special talk. Just pledges of loyalty to the court and no shame to his father. Enough. With loyalty pumped full, Yang Jin would become the court's puppet, reigning as Taizhou's top merchant.
"Lucky we found a good fit."
After Yang Jin withdrew teary-eyed, Ak I-yeon smiled warmly.
"Who'd guess an unrecognized hero lurked in Taizhou?"
"Heaven helped."
I smiled back at Ak I-yeon, then exchanged silent glances with the quiet Jo Wi-cheo.
'Keep this secret forever.'
'Yes, my lord.'
Eye-talk between me and Jo Wi-cheo. Short exchanges were fine.
A house that all-inned during the founding war? Unlucky unsung hero? All bullshit. Yang Jin's father did lose it all pre-founding, but not for righteousness. He hoarded war goods to profiteer, botched it, and went bust. The Founding Emperor snapped up the hoard cheap, indirectly helping—but that's it.
As long as it doesn't leak.
Yang Jin, Cheongho's guildmaster, had his father's flop as his sole trauma, yet donated diligently to the court before I faked his genealogy. So I tweaked that trauma. No records anyway—my scroll becomes the new truth.
Work hard from now on.
A prince's forgery, no less. To earn it, he'll slave till death.