Monopolizing Fortunes (118)
Monopolizing Fortunes (118)
Hwangmi Dal's face lit up.
"You mean to give it to me!"
"Depending on how things go, the Makya Sword could end up yours, old man."
"What do you want? I'd even hand over both my balls."
"I wouldn't take those if you threw in a thousand gold."
"What is it you want?"
Do Tong-dal raised his index finger.
"One year. For exactly one year, become my slave."
"Slave?"
"Yes. A slave who does whatever he's told."
"You're telling me—one of the Ten Greatest Masters Under Heaven and the leader of the Northern Unorthodox Alliance—to become a slave? Are you in your right mind?"
"I gave myself a generous deadline. In practice, it could be over in six months."
"A year, a day—do you think it makes any sense for me to become a slave? Just what do you take me for—!"
"Then I'll have to take the Makya Sword back."
As Do Tong-dal put the Makya Sword back into the box, Hwangmi Dal shouted.
"Stop right there!"
When Do Tong-dal stopped moving, a broad smile bloomed on Hwangmi Dal's fierce face. Even a three-year-old could have seen the smile was nothing but pretense.
"I do have a knack for helping other people out. The word 'slave' has a bit of an unpleasant ring to it, so how about a cooperative relationship?"
"Call it a flower or call it shit—as long as the essence doesn't change, I don't care."
"Heh heh heh . . . Right? Then now the Makya Sword is mine . . . ."
Do Tong-dal smacked away Hwangmi Dal's hand as it reached for the Makya Sword.
"The spit you sprayed while talking hasn't even hit the ground yet, and you're already trying to take the Makya Sword?"
"As a sort of down payment . . . ."
"Shall I cut the Makya Sword in half and give you that?"
"Absolutely not! Absolutely!"
"I'll give it to you once the work is done."
"How am I supposed to trust that promise!"
"And how am I supposed to trust that you'll do the work I give you perfectly, old man?"
"Once I make a promise, I keep it no matter what!"
"You do have a record of breaking one . . . ."
"That wasn't my promise!"
"Ah, is that so."
"Fine! I'll take it after the work is done. But if the work is finished and you still don't hand over the Makya Sword, you'll be on the receiving end of my rage, hotter than the sun."
"What refined phrasing. Unlike you. But aren't you going to ask what the work is?"
Hwangmi Dal thought for a moment, then asked.
"What is it?"
Do Tong-dal drew a deep breath and lowered his voice.
"What I'm about to say must never leak outside."
"Don't worry about that."
Ha Su-ran, meeting Do Tong-dal's gaze, nodded.
"You have my word."
"Though I have been fooled once . . . ."
"Stop dragging that up!"
After letting the silence stretch, Do Tong-dal spat out two syllables: "Treason." Hwangmi Dal and Ha Su-ran could not readily take in the meaning.
"I think we're going to need a longer explanation."
"You both know the current emperor doesn't have long to live, yes?"
"Yes."
"Is that so?"
Hwangmi Dal had not a chick's teardrop worth of interest in the imperial palace.
"I intend to place the third prince on the imperial throne—not the first or second prince. To be precise, it isn't treason, but if it fails, my head flies off all the same."
Ha Su-ran's face grew grave, while Hwangmi Dal asked casually, "Is that hard?"
Ha Su-ran said to Hwangmi Dal.
"We're talking about replacing the emperor. There's no way it's easy."
"Just kill the first and second princes, and it's simple, isn't it?"
"How?"
"Want me to go kill them? That'd be good. If I finish them off quick, the Makya Sword comes to me that much sooner. Heh heh heh . . . ."
Do Tong-dal asked Ha Su-ran.
"Is the unorthodox side really that short on people? How did this old man end up as leader of the Northern Unorthodox Alliance?"
"In the martial world, martial prowess comes first."
"Are you badmouthing me to my face?"
Ignoring Hwangmi Dal, Ha Su-ran asked Do Tong-dal.
"You have a plan, I assume?"
Do Tong-dal laid out the plan he had devised over two ke. A few sharp questions from Ha Su-ran and some absurd ones from Hwangmi Dal came flying at him, but his answers were clear.
After hearing Do Tong-dal's plan, Ha Su-ran thought for a long while before speaking.
"It's meticulous, but also reckless. Will the hidden factions and the first and second princes move the way you expect?"
"I'll make them move."
"The first thing to handle, then, is catching the Beggars' Sect spy."
"Grab one vine, and the sweet potatoes come up in a string."
Ha Su-ran's gaze turned to Hwangmi Dal.
"We'll need to meet with the Beggars' Sect leader."
A crease formed between Hwangmi Dal's brows.
"I don't want to meet the beggar king."
Do Tong-dal asked.
"Is there anyone you're afraid of, old man?"
"You don't avoid shit because you're scared of it! That bastard genuinely reeks of shit!"
Ha Su-ran said.
"I'll arrange the meeting."
"Do you know where he is?"
"I have to keep track of the movements of important martial world figures. I'll set up a meeting in Zhaoyang, Hubei Province, three days from now."
"Guess I'll have to plug my nostrils."
"You don't have to go yourself, Alliance Leader. I can go with Do Tong-dal . . . ."
"No. I'll go. This is work with the Makya Sword on the line."
Do Tong-dal said.
"Then wouldn't it be better for Strategist Ha to go?"
"I said I'm going!"
Hwangmi Dal insisted on going, so there was no stopping him.
"Then let's rest for a day and leave tomorrow."
* * *
The carriage carrying Ja Su-yeong stopped in front of the pleasure house. Yang Su-pan got out first and opened the door for her. Ja Su-yeong took a deep breath, stepped down from the carriage, and looked around.
"Beijing is far more bustling than Hangzhou. The streets, and the pleasure house too."
"Sorry to ask this of you."
"Not at all. If I can help you, Coordinator Do, I'll do anything."
Apart from harming people, the first prince's only hobby was music. But lately he had developed a strange whim and would only seek out pretty musicians.
They had to be both pretty and exceptionally skilled, and at present there was not a single musician like that in the imperial palace.
Those with outstanding skill were old, and those with outstanding beauty lacked the skill to match.
These days, the eunuchs were being drained dry by the first prince's demands to bring him a pretty musician.
Yang Su-pan had hit on a scheme to lure the first prince out of the palace. Based on his own considerable experience frequenting pleasure house, Ja Su-yeong's playing was among the best he had ever heard.
Of course, among the palace musicians there were players more skilled than her. But they were old, and the first prince loathed the old.
As far as Yang Su-pan knew, Ja Su-yeong was the only person who was pretty—extremely so—and skilled enough to satisfy the first prince's ears.
So Yang Su-pan had chosen Ja Su-yeong as the bait to draw the first prince out of the palace.
He had expected persuading her to be difficult, but Ja Su-yeong had unexpectedly agreed readily.
Do Tong-dal would be angry when he found out later, but for now this was the best option.
'I'll just shut my eyes and take a few slaps.'
Of course, if something happened to Ja Su-yeong, it would not end with a few slaps.
Ja Su-yeong took her bundle from the carriage and bowed to Yang Su-pan.
"Then I'll be on my way."
"Will you be all right alone?"
Yang Su-pan wanted to follow, but being seen with her was not a good idea.
Ja Su-yeong smiled softly.
"A courtesan shouldn't be afraid of a pleasure house. I go straight along this road and turn right at the third fork, correct?"
"That's right. It's the largest pleasure house in the area, so it shouldn't be hard to find."
"Understood."
Watching Ja Su-yeong hurry off into the distance, Yang Su-pan let out a soft sigh.
"I hope this goes well."
Ja Su-yeong, carrying Yang Su-pan's worries with her, was not all that concerned. She was afraid, of course, but her affection for Do Tong-dal was strong enough to overcome any fear.
She was Seo Hye-seon, a courtesan who had come up from Zhengzhou in Henan. Ja Su-yeong, the finest entertainer of Hangzhou, had vanished, and only the haughty courtesan Seo Hye-seon remained.
Following Yang Su-pan's directions, she soon came upon a large building. The pleasure house, bearing a sign that read Beijing Premier Pleasure House, rose a full five stories.
With its blue roof tiles and overall pale yellow finish, the building was made grand and splendid by the addition of every color of paint.
It was still daytime, so the pleasure house was quiet. Ja Su-yeong tightened her grip on the bundle she held to her chest, took a deep breath, and knocked on the pleasure house door.
A moment later, the sound of shuffling footsteps came from inside, and the door opened. A middle-aged man in his forties started at the sight of Ja Su-yeong.
The middle-aged man, who had been staring at Ja Su-yeong's beauty with his small eyes narrowed to slits, belatedly came to his senses and asked.
"Hmph! What brings you here?"
He spoke down to her without preamble.
"I came to work."
"Work?"
"A respectable young woman wouldn't be knocking on a pleasure house door at this hour."
"True enough. But did you really come to become a courtesan?"
"An entertainer, to be precise."
"Ah! An entertainer. Our Beijing Premier Pleasure House has quite high standards. Your face is fair, but looks alone won't make you an entertainer."
"Why do you assume I have no skill?"
"Because I've never seen a pretty wench who could actually do anything properly."
As he spoke, the middle-aged man swallowed again and again. He had seen thousands of courtesan, but the woman before him made his heart race more than any of them.
"If it's as a courtesan, I can arrange a place for you right away, but as an entertainer, you'll have to take an audition."
"I'll give you half a shichen."
"Hm?"
"I'm giving you half a shichen to prepare the examiner and a zither. If it goes past that, I'll go somewhere else."
The middle-aged man, who had been staring at Ja Su-yeong with a baffled face, let out a hollow laugh.
"Heh heh! You're the one who wants work."
"And Beijing has plenty of pleasure house where I could work. I guarantee it—if you let me go, Beijing Premier Pleasure House will be the only one to lose out."
Even if Ja Su-yeong's zither skill proved lacking, that face alone was enough to draw customers. That was the thought of the middle-aged man, Chief Steward Ha Du-sang.
"Follow me. I'll have you tested within a ke, not half a shichen."
They passed through a courtyard with a fairly large pond and went around the five-story building, where another two-story house appeared at the back.
The house, set behind the rear garden and enclosed by a wall, was the living quarters for the people who worked at Beijing Premier Pleasure House.
Unlike the front, that place, which no guests ever visited, was poorly maintained. The paint on the walls was peeling, and there were even holes in places.
Trash lay scattered among the weeds that had sprung up throughout the small yard. Seeing the quarters made it clear how Beijing Premier Pleasure House treated its workers.
'All show on the outside, then.'
Ha Du-sang led Ja Su-yeong to the room on the left, connected to the main hall. There, five zither hung against the wall as if laid on their sides.
Ha Du-sang sat in a chair and asked.
"Do you know who I am?"
"I'm an entertainer, not a fortune-teller."
The answer was impertinent. But once he revealed his identity, that stiff neck would soften.
"I am Ha Du-sang, chief steward of Beijing Premier Pleasure House."
Ja Su-yeong's expression did not change.
"I said I'm the chief steward."
"So you are."
The reply was flat. She had said she was an entertainer, so she would know what a chief steward meant to the people working in a pleasure house. Depending on the circumstances, a chief steward could be more frightening than the emperor.
Yet Ja Su-yeong's face said, "And so what?"
"Hmph! Then pick any of those and play."
While Ja Su-yeong examined the zither on the wall, Ha Du-sang asked.
"What is your name and age?"
"I'll tell you that if I end up working at this pleasure house."
It meant that if they were not fated to work together, he had no need to know.
'If she were just a little less pretty, I'd smack her backside and send her packing.'
"May I use this zither?"
Ja Su-yeong pointed to the brown zither in the middle of the five.
'A coincidence?'
It was the finest and best-maintained of the zithers kept in reserve.
"Go ahead."
Ja Su-yeong sat and placed the zither on her lap. The way she plucked each string to tune it was more than merely skilled.
'She doesn't even look twenty yet.'
Geniuses always exist in the world. They develop far faster than ordinary people and become proficient far earlier.
Music was the same; watching their technique, one could not help but admire it. But that was admiration for technique, different from marveling at the music itself.
They could handle an instrument skillfully and sing with a lovely voice, but the emotion within could never surpass the power of time.
The joys and sorrows of a person, aged and matured with the years, were deep feelings that no genius could imitate.
Having finished tuning, Ja Su-yeong plucked the strings without even announcing what piece she would play.
* * *