The First Visit

"Yeah, no arguing it—he really is handsome."

I slid a glance at Ilhong beside me.

Dark eyes that caught the sunlight with a soft gleam, long, delicate lashes, a slender jaw, and fair, flawless skin. You know how boy-idol groups always have that one member who owns the "adorable youth" slot? The flower-beautiful young man standing right in front of me was exactly that type.

"P-please stop staring."

Realizing I was studying her face so intently, Ilhong quietly averted her eyes. She looked a little embarrassed. Feeling mischievous, I leaned even closer and held her gaze until the tips of her ears flushed pink.

"…So you're saying the man my daughter fell for is this young hero?"

Startled by his eldest son's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shout, Clan Head Jo finally registered Ilhong's presence and rushed over in a single bound, looking her up and down. Recognition hit—she was the same pretty youth his daughter Jo Yeongyeong had once insisted on carting around in a carriage—and his eyes went wide.

"You said your name was Young Hero Ilhong?"

"W-well, yes, but—"

Clan Head Jo seized both of Ilhong's arms and fired off the question in a panic.

"Where is my daughter right now?"

"…Excuse me?"

Every gaze in the room—Clan Head Jo's wife, his son, the entire household staff—swiveled onto Ilhong. Her face flooded with bewilderment and pure injustice. She yanked frantically at my sleeve, begging me with her eyes to do something.

"I get why you might think that, but Ilhong hasn't done a thing. She's been stuck to my side like glue these past few days."

When someone of my considerable renown in Beijing stepped up to vouch for her, Clan Head Jo looked back and forth between us and gradually let the suspicion ease. Then Jo Harang sidled up beside me and whispered in my ear.

"You weren't with her a few days ago. You were off playing around with some mystery woman…"

"…I was with her, I said."

Well, that "mystery woman" was Ilhong. Not exactly something I could blurt out, though. So I told Harang to drop it and turned back to Clan Head Jo.

"How long do I have to find your daughter?"

He must have heard the rumor that I never fail a job once I take it. The moment I spoke as if I were accepting the commission, the entire Jo household's faces lit up.

"Her betrothed is scheduled to visit tomorrow evening. So the deadline is… tomorrow, in effect."

If we could find her by tomorrow and get her home before dinner, they could pretend this whole mess never happened.

"Do you have any way of tracking her down? We asked around for traces of our daughter ourselves and came up empty."

I planted a firm hand on the anxious clan head's shoulder and told him to trust me.

"Clan Head Jo, do you know who I am?"

"Hmm… a troubleshooter who got absurdly lucky and stumbled into some fortuitous encounter?"

"…I'm Dog-Beating Dragon Dan Mujin. I don't take jobs I can't finish. So just trust me and wait."

Back when he first hired me I'd been nothing but a low-rank vagabond, so of course he assumed I'd reached Transcendental Peak Realm in a few short years not by raw talent alone, but by some convenient stroke of fate—the way most martial artists did.

"R-right. We'll put our faith in you."

Reassured by my bold claim, Clan Head Jo and his family withdrew.

Once we'd accepted the commission and left the sprawling estate, Ilhong immediately turned to me with a question.

"What do we do first, Boss?"

"First we go see Uncle Bakchil."

Honghwaru was off-limits for the time being, but I still had the beggars' network. In other words, it was time to put the connections of the Beggar Sect disciples who'd entered Beijing thanks to me to work.

A woman in silk robes walked the streets of Beijing with a handful of escort guards. She wore the fluttering garments of a wealthy Beijing heiress, yet a physique honed by hard training seemed ready to burst through the fabric. Following the lead guard, she suddenly spoke as if the whole situation struck her as absurd.

"Walking among ordinary commoners in clothes like these… it almost feels as if I'm out on a covert mission in disguise."

Her movements were crisp and economical; military garb would have suited her far better than silk. The escort guiding her looked distinctly uncomfortable at the way she casually advertised her status.

"Young miss, outside you really must refrain from that sort of talk…"

"Fine, I understand."

She answered with a twitch of her lips.

After pushing through the crowds toward the heart of Beijing for the better part of a quarter-hour, she finally laid eyes on a certain multi-story building she had known only through rumor and intelligence reports.

"So this is the office…"

Promotional slogans were scrawled every which way across the place, clearly meant to lure customers.

Ordinarily she would have sent a subordinate to persuade and hire the man. But while gathering information on this Dan Mujin, she had learned that even the Imperial Noble Consort herself had once paid a personal visit to the office—and that had changed her mind. If royalty of that caliber had troubled herself to come in person, the man clearly possessed that much value. So she, for her part, ought to show at least as much sincerity by appearing herself if she hoped to win him over.

Knock knock.

She announced herself and rapped on the door. No answer came from inside.

Creeeak.

One of the escorts applied a technique or two to the lock and the door swung open with ease. The interior felt cold and empty, stripped of any human warmth. Realizing the place was vacant, the woman let her disappointment show.

"I was told he was definitely inside."

Her tone made it sound as if she were reprimanding the escorts she'd brought along.

"Until this morning we confirmed he was at the office, but…"

Something must have gone sideways. Her subordinate hung his head again and again in mortification.

"Enough. These things happen."

She waved him off, told him to raise his head, and settled into one of the chairs inside the office. She might end up making a wasted trip, but she reminded herself of Liu Bei in the late Han, who had visited a humble thatched hut three times just ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to recruit a single talent. With that generous frame of mind, she set about steeping some of the tea leaves left in the office in hot water.

From of old it was said: the heart follows the tea. She would simply empty her mind of clutter, drink a cup, and wait calmly.

"…Pfft."

That resolve lasted exactly one sip. Bitterness and astringency flooded her expression.

"What a truly strange office."

The woman muttered a short complaint.

"Uncle Bakchil."

I tracked down the information broker who was usually run off his feet at the Beijing branch of the Beggar Sect. Once he'd learned I was a candidate for successor, he'd treated me with stiff formality—until I told him to just talk normally—and these days we were pretty friendly.

The moment I saw his face, I laid out the whole situation: the Jo clan's story, the news that their daughter had apparently run away, and how the cause was a betrothal she hated plus lovesickness for Ilhong.

"So—any beggars around Beijing who've heard the name Jo Yeongyeong?"

"No beggar by that name, but a runaway girl wouldn't go around giving her real name, would she? Any other features?"

I nodded and listed off, one by one, the details Clan Head Jo had given me about Jo Yeongyeong.

"Anything about a suspicious woman wandering the streets who somehow still reeks of money?"

Beggars carpeted every alley and street in Beijing, and most of them cooperated with the Beggar Sect. Listen to the Beggar Sect and rice cakes fall into your lap even in your sleep—because they always pay for good information.

"What does she look like? Doesn't happen to look sharp-tongued and spoiled, does she?"

"Yes, yes—exactly that. Have you heard something?"

It was a reverse question from Bakchil after he'd already scraped together intel from his subordinate beggars, so I asked with real hope.

"One of them saw a woman slip out of the Jo estate under cover of night."

"Ohhh… But the household warriors and escorts were standing guard. How'd she get out?"

"It's a secret, but that mansion has a little dog-hole."

For love, of all things. Making a rich family's daughter crawl through a dog-hole… the more I learned, the more this world was a circus.

"Cross-checking the other beggars' reports, the last place she was spotted seems to be an alley near the marketplace."

"…The last place she was spotted?"

What was that supposed to mean? That an ordinary woman with zero martial arts had somehow managed to hide from the Beggar Sect's eyes?

"Even if she steals plain clothes, the jewelry, the way she moves, the skin—it all still screams 'rich household.' Looks like she caught the eye of some black-path types who specialize in kidnappings and ransom demands."

"…Aigoo."

She couldn't even pass for a commoner and had gone parading around the streets dripping wealth. This little troublemaker was causing disasters wherever she went.

"Any idea which black-path group?"

"Black Wind Gate, most likely. A nearby beggar saw their mark."

"Where would those bastards have gone to ground with the girl?"

"Mmm, sorry. Our information doesn't reach that far."

Given the nature of their work, they'd be holed up somewhere tight and secret.

Ilhong, who had been listening, looked at me and spoke up.

"Black Wind Gate—I know where their base is."

Of course. The Haomu Gate was made up of society's bottom rungs—the cart-pullers, boatmen, shopkeepers, porters, and brokers. And they had sunk roots into Beijing long before the Beggar Sect ever arrived, so it made sense she would know the location.

"Hold on—who is this Young Hero Ilhong that she knows something even the Beggar Sect doesn't—?"

"You've been a huge help. We'll be going now!"

Ilhong's memory was razor-sharp; I essentially had a human navigation system now. I took her with me and headed back to where the others were waiting.

"Let's go, Ilhong."

A short while later, our office crew—me, Ilhong, and Jo Harang—plus the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠escort party that had requested the job, found ourselves visiting the familiar yet faintly unsettling back alleys of Beijing.

A district twisted into a labyrinth by haphazard development and endless winding turns. There was even a joke that if you set foot wrong, you might never get out again. It was also the perfect place for kidnappers to hide.

"All right—Escort Yang Jo, Escort Yang Wi, and Ohchil, you take that path. We'll take the right-hand one."

A fork had appeared, so I split the group in two. Ilhong, Jo Harang, and I headed down the slightly damp, musty-smelling alley.

Ilhong took the lead; she already knew these routes well enough. From behind, Jo Harang watched her stride ahead with a faintly astonished look.

"Okay, that's actually amazing. You really have the whole place memorized?"

Harang stuck out her tongue in disbelief at Ilhong's memory. Part of it was information she'd deliberately learned; part of it was ground she'd walked as a beggar—home territory. Ilhong just shrugged both shoulders.

"Boss, walking these back alleys like this… it really brings back the old days, doesn't it?"

Ilhong drifted up beside me and whispered. We'd passed near here before in full dress for old times' sake, but coming through as the real Ilhong again had definitely been a while.

"Seriously?"

Jo Harang, walking alongside us, snorted and looked back and forth between the two of us. She seemed a little sulky, so I had no choice but to ask.

"What now?"

"What, only you two get to have memories? Hmm?"

Apparently watching the two of us chat like close friends had rubbed her the wrong way. Leave it to her to get jealous over the smallest things.

Just as she was about to keep grumbling—

"Ah—over there!"

Ilhong pointed somewhere ahead.