Breaking In the New Master
That night, Cha Gyeong-yeon came looking for Hong-wi.
For the past several days, they had spent every evening poring over information—details Cha Gyeong-yeon had already known or newly gathered—and marking them onto the map.
The map itself was a gift from Hwang Ga, and a remarkable one: it was the very sort used as a military map in Joseon.
It was almost laughable, but not even the chieftains living in these wild lands—Lee Man-ju himself included—could have possessed anything more accurate.
While Hong-wi bent over the map, Cha Gyeong-yeon watched him in silence.
"You have something to say, don't you?"
Hong-wi, having noticed his gaze, lifted his head and asked.
"As a matter of fact, I do."
"Go on. What is it?"
"Tomorrow, we depart with Your Majesty and press deep into the heart of Jianzhou."
"Indeed, and thanks to everyone's hard work, our preparations have gone without a hitch."
Hong-wi smiled.
"Is something troubling you?"
His voice was perfectly calm.
Cha Gyeong-yeon paused, weighing how to broach the matter.
"No, Your Majesty. The preparations are complete. It's only that I..."
He let the words trail off.
Hong-wi regarded him steadily.
"Speak freely."
"Yes, then I shall. The tribesmen may well be warm toward Joseon folk, yet even so, this Hwangseongpyeong is among the more civilized corners of Jianzhou. But once we push deeper into its heart, I can't say what dangers Your Majesty might face—and it worries me to think how you mean to handle it."
"And here I thought it was something serious. That's what has you fretting?"
Hong-wi laughed gently.
"Who was it, I wonder, who told me that one must enter the tiger's den to catch a tiger?"
Cha Gyeong-yeon smiled too.
"That I did. But even now, the porters quietly look down on you. With Pushan Hadaru watching, they can't act out too brazenly, but you ought to steel yourself for at least a measure of disrespect."
"Face-slapping, is it? No doubt. I'm a stranger here with no experience to speak of, so nothing about it would surprise me."
Hong-wi accepted it matter-of-factly.
"Will you truly be all right?"
"If I'm not, what then? Come now, Gyeong-yeon. I was hounded from place to place until I was chased all the way here."
Hong-wi shook his head and went on.
"Am I, of all people, to fear the territorial spite of tribesmen at this late hour? I won't pretend I have no worries at all—that would be a lie—but there will be cliques and cold shoulders wherever one goes. I've eaten my fill of people's sneers already. Whatever those porters might do, how could it possibly rival the tyranny of that obstinate, venomous uncle of mine and his pack who persecuted me? Compared to the days I endured in Suganggung or in Yeongwol, this is nothing."
Cha Gyeong-yeon hesitated, then shook his head.
"No—truthfully, I find this better. Beside those wretched days of old, at least here there is something I can actually do. And I have people who help me sincerely, like you and Ho-in. What more is there for me to fear? And if I were afraid, where else would I even run?"
"Splendid!"
Realizing how firmly Hong-wi's resolve held, Cha Gyeong-yeon broke into a bright smile.
With the King's spirit so unshakable, what couldn't they accomplish?
"Your Majesty, you must set out on a long road tomorrow. Rest early tonight."
"I shall."
The next day came the landmark moment: Hong-wi's first outing as a merchant.
Hwang Ga attended in person.
For him, too, it was a momentous day—the first step of his own into Jianzhou.
Pushan Hadaru did not come himself, but he had sent Ugunai in his stead.
Impeccable as ever, Ugunai observed Hong-wi's caravan with a dubious eye.
His look said it plainly: Not bad, for a green boy who knows nothing of the world.
An old tribal shaman stepped forward.
It was a rite to divine the road ahead and pray for the caravan's safety.
Superstition meant a great deal to the tribesfolk, so even Hong-wi's party, who believed in none of it, raised no particular objection.
Even Teolbo, who had been cold to them from the start, conducted himself with solemnity this once.
Ho-in snorted.
Well, he'd better make it back in one piece himself.
Yet before divining fortune or misfortune, the shaman did something unexpected: he examined the porters closely, even the condition of the packhorses, with meticulous care.
He asked the spirits of heaven and earth, yes—but he was also thoroughly checking how well the people's own preparations had been made.
Seeing that even the sacrificial offerings set aside for the divination were in fine condition, the shaman nodded his approval.
"Excellent. Now I shall cast the lots."
As the tribesmen held their breath and watched, the shaman turned his gaze alternately to sky and earth, muttering incantations under his breath.
Whether it was the old tongue of the tribes, some regional dialect, or mere meaningless babble, even Hong-wi could barely make out a word.
"A rare and glorious omen! Abundant profit and good fortune await you on the road ahead!"
A small cheer went up.
Even the dour Teolbo cracked a grin.
The shaman approached.
"Pay the fortune-fee."
Hong-wi paid it without a word.
Seeing how generous the sum was, the shaman seemed satisfied; he nodded with a smile and studied Hong-wi at length.
Hong-wi, a practical man, was not especially swayed by the reading itself—but he could only hope the shaman's kind words would cast a favorable light on him in the eyes of Teolbo and his porters as well.
"A most auspicious fate you carry."
The shaman said it abruptly.
Hong-wi stared at him.
"You've suffered much these past years, haven't you? Misfortune hounding you at every turn?"
"Well... you could put it that way."
Hong-wi answered.
The shaman gazed at him with eyes lost in some distant thought.
"Hardship will find you still, but the worst of your misfortune already lies behind you. Endure but three years more, and a broad, unobstructed road will open before your feet!"
"Thank you."
Hong-wi bowed his head slightly and returned the courtesy.
"May keenness dwell in your eyes. May vigor spring from your steps. May wealth flow rich through your hands. May strength settle deep into your arms."
The shaman offered the blessing such men always gave.
"And someday—may you reclaim the place that is yours, among your own!"
At those words, Hong-wi flinched.
Before he could utter a syllable in reply, the shaman wheeled about and turned away.
Once the shaman had melted into the crowd, Ho-in asked, "What did he say, then?"
"Hmm. Looks like he read my fortune."
As Hong-wi explained, Ho-in turned back toward the departing shaman with an expression that said he could hardly believe a man could be so perceptive.
"I always took men like that for swindlers, but I suppose there's something to those eyes of his after all?"
"Aigoo, you boy. Aren't you the obedient one."
Cha Gyeong-yeon chided him, though a smile played at the corners of his mouth.
He was fond of this endearing side of the young man.
"A shaman like that has been around the block a hundred times, you see. Word of Your Majesty's history would have reached his ears before you ever arrived here. Anyone would reason that a Joseon man coming all this way to trade must have a complicated story behind him."
"Ah..."
Ho-in scratched his head.
Cha Gyeong-yeon turned to Hong-wi.
"It's the sort of thing fortune-tellers say to everyone, reading the person before them. Just take it as a kind word and think no more of it."
"Yes, that's the way of it. He spoke well of me, so I shall let it pass as such."
Hong-wi smiled thinly.
Then Hwang Ga came over and clapped him on the shoulder.
"So it's turned out just as you planned."
Hwang Ga's face gave away nothing, as ever.
"I won't promise you everything will go smoothly. But now that you've begun, see it through without regret! I'm not telling you to court losses—but don't cling to small profits and let the great ones slip away. And above all, those tribesmen under you—be not stingy when you give, but never let them think you a fool either. Understood?"
"Yes, elder."
It was encouragement and practical advice in equal measure—pure Hwang Ga.
Turning to leave, he tossed out one last word.
"Buy them a few rounds of drink. It'll help you win those fellows' hearts."
Teolbo and the porters didn't refuse the liquor Hong-wi poured for them, but neither did they trouble themselves to be thankful for it.
As he sipped his cup, Hong-wi stole a glance at Teolbo.
The man's face was a latched window—nothing to be read in it at all.
Once the liquor had gone around a full turn, Teolbo wiped his mouth with his sleeve, rose to his feet, and barked something at the porters in the tribal tongue.
"We move out."
The porters, faces flushed with drink, rose.
Ho-in's stomach churned with displeasure.
Damned wretches. They take a man's liquor and can't even say thank you.
At least the weather was kind. Scattered clouds screened the sun, making it as fine a day for a long journey as anyone could ask.
The caravan departed Hwangseongpyeong without a word.
Ho-in found it hard to tear his wistful gaze from the town shrinking behind them.
Shabby compared to the towns of Joseon, perhaps, but it had still felt like home—a piece of Joseon on foreign soil.
Spring was now in full bloom; even the untamed wild lands had shed their harshness and clothed themselves in fresh green.
Hong-wi's party had first set foot in these lands in early winter the year before, so this was their first sight of spring on the frontier.
They watched the transformation with wide eyes.
In the span of mere months, this land that had known only bleakness and bitter cold was blossoming in vivid color.
From here on, this is the true wild country.
Ho-in steeled himself and squared his shoulders.
He couldn't know what lay ahead, but if anyone meant to lay a hand on Hong-wi, they would have to get past him first.
Not that he intended to grant permission.
The porters, meanwhile, seemed in thoroughly good spirits.
They'd each had a farewell cup or two, and with a gentle breeze at their backs, their steps were light as air—they were practically flying.
Some were even humming snatches of song.
It was a welcome sign for Hong-wi.
Men with a song on their lips rarely make trouble.
A good omen, this.
Hong-wi was about to smile when his eyes fell on Teolbo and his expression hardened.
On the man's flushed face there was... no hostility, exactly, nothing overtly sour.
If anything, he seemed almost to be smiling.
But it wasn't goodwill—there was something sly about that grin, something that set Hong-wi's nerves on edge.
What was he scheming?
Cha Gyeong-yeon had noticed it too.
He had been carefully tracking Teolbo and his crew's movements for days now, and he knew well how men in this line of work went about their "breaking in" of a new master.
Teolbo was murmuring with his porters, all the while shooting meaningful glances at Hong-wi walking ahead of the column.
He'll manage fine.
Cha Gyeong-yeon was confident.
The young man might look delicate, but had he not been put through his paces these past months?
He snorted quietly. Boys, if you've mistaken him for easy pickings, you're in for a hard lesson.
The porters' "breaking in" of their new master arrived sooner than expected.
Half a day had passed since they left Hwangseongpyeong, and noon had come.
Teolbo spoke up.
"Let's take our midday meal here."
"Very well."
Hong-wi agreed.
Teolbo and the porters ate apart from Hong-wi's party.
But once the meal was done, instead of rising to the road, they settled into the grass in lazy circles to rest at their ease.
Teolbo even had two of the brawnier porters grapple in a test of strength, and sat back to watch the show.
Hong-wi approached him.
"The road to Sahalcha is long. Shouldn't we be setting out now?"
Teolbo answered without so much as turning his head.
"Porters be tired, m'lord. Best rest a while longer 'fore we go, don't ye think."
Hong-wi looked at the porters still locked in their contest, and at the others too busy cheering to mind anything else.
"From where I stand, your friends seem bursting with energy."
Teolbo shot Hong-wi a sidelong glance, malice glinting in it.
"Ah... that there? That ain't just playin', m'lord. That be martial trainin', see."
"Martial training?"
Just then the porters let out a great whoop—the victor had been decided.
Teolbo clapped his hands slowly and drawled on.
"This here land be rough as it come. Never know when trouble gonna show its face. Ye Joseon folk what don't know nothin'—no offense meant, m'lord..."
Sarcasm dripped from every syllable.
"Ye look to be some precious young master raised in silk, so best stay put where ye belong—sit back, enjoy the show, an' let the big folk do the work. How 'bout that."
"Is that so?"
Hong-wi realized the surroundings had gone abruptly quiet.
He could feel the porters' eyes on him.
"Then what would you have me do?"
"Why, buy us a round o' liquor at the proper time, o' course. Now'd be fine."
Laughter erupted all around.
Hong-wi laughed along heartily.
"Well now, that I can't do."
Teolbo stared at him, hard.
The laughter died away as quickly as it had risen.
"I'm the head of this caravan, you see. Keeping discipline is part of my charge."
"Hah. Discipline, he says."
The word discipline seemed to have struck a nerve. Teolbo rose slowly from his seat and fixed Hong-wi with a burning stare.
"Mighty stiff-necked, for a green schoolmaster... but tell me, if ye don't know a thing, wouldn't it be wiser to leave it to them that does an' step back quiet-like?"
"Heh. I thank you for the advice, but spectating has never agreed with my constitution."
"Man just don't know his own place, do he now."
Teolbo sneered, needling him openly.
He swept his gaze across the assembled porters and pressed on.
"An' ye reckon our fine schoolmaster there can really handle the likes o' these lads?"
Hong-wi answered with perfect calm.
"With your help, it would go all the more smoothly."
Teolbo flashed a crooked grin.
"I don't bow my head to just anybody, see. Ye reckon yer master there's got the vessel for it, then?"
"Well, that's the sort of thing one finds out by testing."
"Ha!"
The porters who had been watching began to snicker and jeer, making no attempt whatsoever to hide their contempt.