Debt Relations (4)
Jin Yeo-rip was led to the Hudeok Hall, the chamber the Saihai Money House reserved for esteemed guests. "A place where thick virtue resides." The name sounded great. It would've been even better as the Thick Evil Hall. After all, their so-called "esteemed guests" were just people they planned to bribe, and such gatherings always brewed conspiracies.
"Pleased to meet you. I am Yang Imsu, the Grand Supervisor of the Saihai Money House."
"Likewise. Jin Yeo-rip."
The one greeting Jin Yeo-rip's group was the Grand Supervisor himself. Even without So Hye's report, anyone could tell at a glance that he was Yang Taek's son. He looked exactly like him—exactly. At this point, it was pure genetic jackpot. The problem was that he resembled his father not in youth, but in old age.
They say physiognomy is a science, Jin Yeo-rip thought. His personality probably isn't far behind.
"I've heard so much about you, Young Master Jin."
"Is that so? My insignificant name must have been a bother to your ears."
Jin Yeo-rip offered polite humility. Words didn't cost money, after all.
"Insignificant? The incident at Beksan Branch has become a model for merchants everywhere. I always tell my subordinates to emulate it."
"Haha, you're gilding the lily—I'm embarrassed."
Jin Yeo-rip responded to Yang Imsu's praise with a laugh.
"Upon hearing you were coming, the House Lord ordered a feast prepared in your honor."
"Oh dear, I had no intention of troubling you..."
"Trouble? How could the Cheongeumbang be 'others' to us? We always hope you'll visit like this."
Yang Imsu bowed deeply, then glanced at the entourage trailing behind Jin Yeo-rip.
"But you have quite the party with you."
"My apologies. I'm rather frail, so I always travel with a physician and guards."
"That's regrettable. As the saying goes, heaven grows jealous of the talented and tries to claim them early..."
Jin Yeo-rip nearly snorted. Is this a murder threat?
But masking his thoughts, he nodded with a subtle smile. "So they say. You seem no ordinary man yourself, Supervisor, so do watch your step. Who departs first is heaven's secret alone."
"Haha, comparing a wretch like me to you, Young Master? I don't know where to put myself amid such praise."
True to Yang Taek's son, Jin Yeo-rip mused. He won't lose a battle of words anywhere. Even a jab like you could drop dead too, so watch out got brushed off with a laugh.
After exchanging a few barbed pleasantries, Yang Imsu wore a troubled expression.
"I understand your frailty, Young Master Jin, but by house protocol, you must meet the House Lord alone. Your guards will need to wait outside."
Im Pilsaeng's eyebrows furrowed at that. His nerves were already frayed from Tak Sobak's ambush. With no telling if the Golden-Eyed One's "feast" was a trap, how could they let Jin Yeo-rip go alone?
"Ah, it seems your Gwiyeong is fiercely loyal. Young Master Jin, my words fall on deaf ears—could you order him instead?"
Jin Yeo-rip nearly scoffed. Eliminate threats in advance, huh? Can't blame him—Shandong's top swordsman isn't for show.
"Very well. Since I'm here to greet the House Lord, exchange pleasantries, and seek his wisdom, no guards are needed."
"My lord!"
Im Pilsaeng raised his voice as Jin Yeo-rip acquiesced so readily.
"Uncle Pilsaeng."
"Yes?"
"Do as he says."
"But—"
"What else would make me blush in broad daylight besides the wine?"
Im Pilsaeng frowned, pondering, then proposed a compromise. "Then I'll stay close."
"Close?"
"Yes. Right outside the Hudeok Hall doors—you can call anytime."
"Hm."
He'd heard endless nagging from So Hye about this. But Jin Yeo-rip shook his head.
"That would be rude."
"Pardon?"
"It's disrespectful to our host. If you stand there, it looks like we're suspecting the Saihai Money House of foul play. Surely you don't think the Golden-Eyed One would stoop to anything devious, scheming, or treacherous with a guest in his home?"
"Pardon? No, I mean..."
Im Pilsaeng blinked, flustered by Jin Yeo-rip's "examples," which were blatant slander against the Saihai. What could he say? But why pull this now? They'd been ambushed even with him present last time.
"Supervisor."
"Yes."
"If you could spare someone to host them separately with drinks and food?"
"Drinks?"
"Yes. They're like family to me—my heart aches if they're slighted elsewhere."
"To cherish even your subordinates so... I have much to learn. Very well. I'll have a lavish spread prepared."
"Thank you."
Bowing to Yang Imsu, Jin Yeo-rip turned to Im Pilsaeng. "Go enjoy yourselves. I hear the Saihai chefs are no joke."
"My lord."
"Why keep calling me?"
"..."
"You trust me, right?"
"Of course. But that's not—"
"Then trust and go rest. With the others."
Patting his shoulder, Jin Yeo-rip turned away. Im Pilsaeng scowled deeply.
"Fine, let's go. Stubbornness now would be disloyal. Our lord has a plan."
"Ah, you old fool—act like you know something when you don't!"
"What'd you say, punk?"
Ignoring their bickering, Jin Yeo-rip followed Yang Imsu into the Hudeok Hall. Kang Seong-gil just shook his head.
A prodigiously talented but stubborn young master, a hotheaded famous warrior, an eccentric physician up to who-knows-what, and a nagging maid. A combination he'd never seen anywhere.
"Haa."
Just a sigh escaped him. Was volunteering as guard a good call...?
Inside the Hudeok Hall, the first thing Jin Yeo-rip saw was the feast laid out in the center. Just three seats? A smirk tugged at his lips as he walked deeper.
One behind a pillar, one on the ceiling, one behind the far dais. Encircling the feast like a noose. They must've worked hard to hide without a hair showing.
But they'd underestimated him badly. Did they think he wouldn't notice? Or maybe he wouldn't have.
If he hadn't reached the Tanggi realm during that fight. If he hadn't holed up in the clinic afterward, raising his realm through diligent qi cultivation instead of just reading.
As his internal energy grew, so did his senses—exponentially.
"Heh heh."
"Why the laugh?"
"Oh? Nothing. Just... quite the preparation for little old me."
"Pardon?"
"The feast. The feast. The stench is so thick here—the gut-fish in your bellies must be starving."
"That smell's coming from here?"
"Yes."
Yang Imsu tilted his head at Jin Yeo-rip's grinning deflection, but suspected nothing. Fair enough—his nose had sharpened too. Not wrong to call it a "smell."
The five senses of the flesh: sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch. And with Tanggi, a sixth: qi sense. Like intuition made real.
As internal energy deepened, anything with qi stood out clearer: the vitality of the living, the pure energy of cultivators, the malice of the sinister.
When he first unlocked it, he'd jumped at sensing the rat's lively aura under his bed. Still funny thinking back.
Amusingly, others struggled to sense his energy. The Twelve Flows did that. Without circulating, his qi permeated his limbs like he had none at all.
Im Pilsaeng and Hwang Ja-su had been baffled. Clearly Tanggi, yet no presence.
He even snuck up silently for fun sometimes. Didn't work on So Hye, though. Mind-reading perk?
Never learned it, so who knew.
Anyway, with Golden-Eyes, that made six: three feasting openly, three hidden. "Protocol" to bar guards, yet they'd brought their own. Fine words.
Seemed protective on the surface, but if things went south, heads would roll.
Jin Yeo-rip sat innocently where Yang Imsu indicated, sniffing openly.
"Impressive! Beyond the rumors. Just the aroma has my mouth watering."
"Glad you're pleased."
Yang Imsu covered a laugh with his sleeve. Inside was mockery.
Eloquent, poised... talented, sure. But young. Inexperienced, naive. Brash, overconfident, reckless.
In a word: careless.
"When does the House Lord arrive?"
"Pardon?"
"My mouth's flooding. Can't eat before an elder."
"Haha, a moment please. I informed him of your arrival—he'll be here soon. He's reviewing all the exchange's operations."
"Personally?"
"Yes. He insists on perfection. Can't risk oversights harming our partners."
"Come on, he's of age, with a capable son like you. Time to retire."
Jin Yeo-rip grumbled, eyes glued to the food. Yang Imsu's smirk deepened.
Paranoia after all. Suspicion of a scheme faded; now he felt like an adult humoring an impatient child.
His assessment shifted. Sure, he'd survived Tak Sobak, Dokbi Yeo Jeokgwang, and Tanggu with a guard like Gwiyeong—martial prowess likely high.
But merchant instincts? Laughable. Father had misjudged. Old age, perhaps... And the Golden-Eyes prestige? Overrated.
As these thoughts deepened, the back door opened. A servant bellowed:
"The House Lord arrives!"
They rose at the heavy footsteps.
"Haha! Who's this? Jin Yeo-rip gracing the Saihai—delightful!"
Jin Yeo-rip grinned widely, bowing to Yang Taek's beaming greeting. Internally, he counted steps.
One step, two... Closer.
A bit more, just a little...
As Yang Taek neared the feast:
Pak!
Jin Yeo-rip shot up, kicking off his chair and launching at Yang Taek.
"Gah!"
In the instant Yang Imsu's eyes bulged, Jin Yeo-rip stood behind Yang Taek.
Chopsticks in hand, gently pressing his throat.