Debt Relations (3)
“Who’s coming?”
Yang Taek wore a baffled expression at the words of his chief steward, who had rushed in with urgent news.
“It’s Cheongeumbang’s young master, Jin Yeo-rip. He’s just set out from Cheongeumbang, accompanied by his personal bodyguard, maid, and a physician.”
“Personal bodyguard, maid, and physician? Ha! That little brat……”
It was absurd news. He had surely been attacked and knew it was Yang Taek’s doing. Yang Taek had been waiting for this all along. Hadn’t he already sent back Tak Sobak’s corpse some time ago? Delivered in an expensive paulownia wood coffin on a cart, no less. Seeing the body charred black inside had felt like mockery, filling him with rage. Trembling with fury, he hadn’t even held a funeral—just dumped it in a field. For a man who’d pocketed a hundred taels of gold yet failed to kill one boy, becoming beast fodder was fitting.
He’d kept tabs on Cheongeumbang’s movements. They’d know it was his commission. He’d even wondered if it was a declaration of war. But things had been eerily calm, as if the attack never happened. Remarkably, Cheongeumbang’s leader, Jin Ha-seong, hadn’t even known about it. Had they not told him? Had that kid thought that far ahead?
Through Cheongeumbang elders, he learned they’d covered it up as an injury from sparring with new guards. Jin Yeo-rip’s actions afterward defied expectations too: seclusion. Using treatment as an excuse, he hadn’t stepped out once. Unable to gauge his schemes, Yang Taek sent elders under the pretense of well-wishes. Their reports were unanimous.
“He seems to be preparing for the upcoming merchant assembly, buried in books the whole time. No other visitors.”
Impossible. Those idiot elders must have missed something. Jin Yeo-rip? No way. Those challenging eyes held a beast’s feral fire. He wouldn’t back down easily.
Mulling this over, the chief steward arrived with news of his visit—the first in nearly a month from the once-quiet boy. Yang Taek knew his companions well; he’d been watching Unjeong Pavilion’s residents. Im Pilsaeng was famous across Shandong. But that was then. Faded glory from long ago.
If it was revenge for the attack, would he bring just them? No matter their prowess, they couldn’t match Saihai Money House’s might. Where money gathers, people follow. With countless grudges fueling his defenses, Yang Taek trusted his forces rivaled even the Hwangbo family’s, Shandong’s top martial clan.
The kid was sharp; he’d have heard about Saihai from his father and judged accordingly. So no intent to fight…… No, he wouldn’t dare. A calculator like him knew what profited. Then what was his game?
As Yang Taek pondered deeply, chief steward Yang Imsu spoke cautiously. “From Cheongeumbang elders, it seems Jin Yeo-rip personally sought and received permission from the Cheongeumbang leader.”
“Personally?”
“Yes.”
“Ha, what a brazen punk.”
Laughing repeatedly, Yang Taek eyed his steward steadily. “Suya.”
“Yes, House Lord.”
“What’s your take?”
“Pardon?”
“You think that kid has no ulterior motive? Tell me what you predict his intent is.”
Propping his chin on the armrest, Yang Taek watched Yang Imsu furrow his brow.
“I…… I’ve mulled it over every way, but I can’t read Jin Yeo-rip’s intentions.”
“Can’t read him? You, who’s been at my side twenty years, seasoned to the bone? You, the chief steward juggling countless merchants with Saihai’s coffers, stumped by a seventeen-year-old boy?”
“Indeed. Chastise me if you must; I’ll accept it gladly.”
Despite the scolding tone, Yang Imsu stood unashamed, owning his shortfall. Yang Taek’s lips twitched upward. The reprimand was mere teasing. He knew the man’s caliber well.
Chief steward Yang Imsu—officially his subordinate, privately his second son. The one most like him……
“No, no. Would I favor you over others for nothing? You must’ve pondered deeply on your way here. Speak your thoughts, even the thorny bits.”
With permission, Yang Imsu laid out his analysis calmly.
“First, sending Tak Sobak’s corpse was just a ploy to rattle us.”
“Why so?”
“Even if Tak blabbed about your commission, a dead man’s words aren’t testimony. From what I’ve heard, Jin Yeo-rip isn’t fool enough to miss that.”
“Spot on. I thought the same.”
“He’d also weigh Cheongeumbang-Saihai ties. One holds money, the other commerce savvy—mutual benefit can’t be ignored. Pushing without solid proof brings too much risk.”
“Exactly. So he hid it from his father too. The leader would’ve at least protested.”
“Yes. Jin Ha-seong would’ve cornered us regardless of evidence, forcing concessions under watchful eyes. But the young master wouldn’t settle for that.”
“Right again.”
“Two possibilities, then. One: Escalating helps no one……”
Yang Imsu trailed off, lips pressing tight. Yang Taek smiled, urging him on. “Go on.”
“Two: Handling it himself profits more than leaving it to Jin Ha-seong.”
“……”
“A month later, visiting personally? The latter seems likelier.”
“Yes. Though our banquet meeting was brief, he struck me as bold and insidious. Capable of such thinking.”
“That’s why it baffles me.”
“……”
“Coming now means he prepared something this past month. The only plausible thing is the commission fee.”
“The fee?”
“Yes. But that’s impossible too. As usual, the payment to Tak was under a proxy—a vagrant’s name, untraceable.”
“He found the proxy?”
“No. Saihai manages it directly; no token, no access. Jin Yeo-rip can’t know its whereabouts.”
Yang Imsu spoke with conviction. How many rivals had Yang Taek eliminated? His son had always handled the fees. No doubt there.
“I’ve checked already. Only half was used—likely to Dokbi and Tanggu. Order it, and I’ll recover the rest.”
“No need. No point cornering rats. Especially Dokbi; he’s dangerous.”
“Understood.”
“Scatter their trails just in case.”
“Already watching them, paths split dozens of ways. No issues so far.”
“Good. Then Jin Yeo-rip holds something we can’t predict?”
“Or nothing at all.”
“A feint?”
“I wrestled briefly but found no better conclusion. If it’s a bluff, why bring it here?”
Yang Taek nodded, leaning back. Worth teaching beside him. His words echoed his own thoughts—same worries, same impasse. Jin Yeo-rip’s intent eluded them both. What scheme brought him here?
“If it troubles you, I’ll meet and send him packing.”
“No.”
“……”
“A pup, however fierce, can’t scare a tiger.”
“You’ll meet him yourself?”
“Of course. Who knows? Maybe he’s come to apologize for the banquet, enlightened by peril. I should accept it personally, no?”
Yang Imsu met his gaze steadily, then rose with a nod. “I’ll prepare the banquet.”
“No fuss. He’s here for me; keep it simple, just you attending. You’re older, but he’s a fine rival prospect.”
“Understood. I’ll take my leave.”
“Yes. Welcome him grandly. I’m quite looking forward to his words.”
“As you wish, House Lord.”
Yang Imsu bowed politely and departed. Alone, Yang Taek leaned deep into his chair, smiling. Was the pup coming to fight? Or grovel, tail tucked? Either way, no matter. Would a seasoned tiger fear a pup? Fight if challenged; pat if it begged. Simple.
“Whoa!”
Stepping from the cart at Saihai Money House’s gates, Jin Yeo-rip couldn’t hold back his admiration. Pure awe. Beyond the walls, it was smaller overall than Cheongeumbang, but the buildings inside gleamed more opulent, lavish. Roofs like whalebacks, pillars thick and grand. And the entrance pillars’ couplets?
“Man follows earth, earth follows heaven, heaven follows the Dao, and the Dao follows nature.”
“Great achievements stem from resolve; vast enterprises from diligence.”
“Rely on virtue and prosper; rely on force and perish.”
Laozi’s Tao Te Ching, the Book of Documents, Sima Qian’s Records of the Grand Historian. Plastered boldly on the main gate pillars—Saihai’s corporate ethics? Something like that. All the fine words cherry-picked.
His verdict after reading and pondering them?
“……What a load of bullshit.”
Just hollow laughter. Did those lofty phrases fit Saihai? Where was their Dao, their virtue? So Hye’s intel painted them as glittery fronts for back-alley filth. Laozi would rise blood-pressure raging from his grave; Confucius and Mencius would point and curse in tandem. They crushed the weak outright, slit the strong’s throats in shadows to build their empire—now preaching virtue and Dao? It twisted his guts.
But no need to show it. He wasn’t here to nitpick calligraphy.
“My lord, shall I announce us?”
“No.”
“Pardon?”
“Why knock? Looks desperate.”
“What do you——?”
Im Pilsaeng tilted his head puzzled, but Jin Yeo-rip clasped hands behind his back before the firmly shut gates and bellowed heartily. One phrase fit perfectly, right?
“Come out here!”
From now on, he was Saihai’s guest—and the creditor come to collect on a life debt.