16. Light and Salt (2)
Cheongsu had always thought it was necessary to instill some discipline in this impudent kid. He'd even discussed it with Cheonghwa once—Muk Hwi-yeong had a peculiar habit of looking down on martial artists.
That mindset wasn't good for someone who would eventually become a martial artist himself. And it was a mystery where such a perception had even come from. Ordinary folk usually feared and revered the murim world, after all.
Let's see how you like it.
There was no need to go all the way to the sect leader, really. Why would anyone relay the opinion of someone who wasn't even a core disciple to the sect leader for some special reason? It was simply Cheongsu's way of knocking Muk Hwi-yeong down a peg.
Muk Hwi-yeong lacked respect and fear for his seniors. He wouldn't dare act that way in front of Wudang's sect leader. Even if he spoke up boldly, it would be dismissed as baseless chatter.
"Sect Leader. I was wrong. The sect leader is... a bit..."
"I've already told the sect leader that you're coming with me. You wouldn't want to make me look like some fool, would you?"
"That's not..."
Muk Hwi-yeong was thrown off balance, just as Cheongsu had intended. The kid always slithered out of trouble by getting results, leaving no room for scolding—but seeing that flustered expression now was immensely satisfying.
Muk Hwi-yeong let out a sigh but had no choice except to follow Cheongsu.
As they entered the sect leader's chamber in Samcheong Hall, Wudang's elders and the sect leader were already seated. The salt trade would have a major impact on the budgets of all Wudang's halls, so everyone had gathered.
Cheongsu glanced at Muk Hwi-yeong on the way in. As expected, the young man's face had drained of color.
"Ahem. Some lowly disciple said we shouldn't do this salt trade."
"And we're supposed to listen to that?"
"He's not even a core disciple—just a lay disciple, they say."
The elders immediately voiced their displeasure. It was absurd for a mere twenty-something lay disciple to opine on a major Wudang affair.
"Sect Leader Brother. I've brought him."
At Cheongsu's words, the sect leader—who had been silent until then—fixed his gaze on Muk Hwi-yeong.
Muk Hwi-yeong promptly dropped his eyes to the floor. Who could stare boldly into the eyes of Cheongui, the Taiji Sword Emperor, one of the Five Great Swordsmen of the World?
"So this is the one."
"Yes. He had a negative opinion about the salt trade..."
"Not that. The one Cheonghwa has her eye on."
"Ah, yes. That's right."
Cheongui's internal energy rippled faintly, enveloping Muk Hwi-yeong. He was examining the young man's muscles, meridians, and inner energy. Muk Hwi-yeong must have felt utterly exposed right now.
"It's still hard to tell. But Cheonghwa's eyes wouldn't be wrong."
Cheongui withdrew his energy. Muk Hwi-yeong exhaled raggedly. Being wrapped in that majestic aura would leave anyone breathless.
"Alright. Let the Gokjeon Hall Master speak first."
"Pardon?"
Cheongsu was taken aback. This meeting was supposed to put Muk Hwi-yeong in the crosshairs.
"Why we shouldn't buy salt at this Yichang market."
"That's not my opinion..."
"It's still an opinion from Gokjeon Hall, so the hall master should compile it and report to me."
This wasn't going as planned. Cheongsu sensed things veering off course.
"If it's deemed baseless, the hall master will be punished."
Suddenly, everything had twisted strangely. At that moment, Muk Hwi-yeong's expression changed.
"I'm not from Gokjeon Hall."
Cheongsu stared at him in horror. Even as his junior brother, he wouldn't directly contradict the sect leader. It was a matter of respect for one's elders. But Muk Hwi-yeong didn't care one bit.
"I don't know why you martial artists love collective punishment so much, but this doesn't even warrant that. As I said, it's because I'm not from Gokjeon Hall."
"You're standing there because you're treated as one."
"I never asked to be treated that way."
Cheongui's eyes darkened deeply. It was a gaze heavy enough to crush an ordinary disciple, but Muk Hwi-yeong pressed on.
"This salt trade will definitely fail."
"Evidence?"
"None right now."
"None right now?"
The elders burst into mocking laughter. But Cheongui didn't laugh; he quietly waited for Muk Hwi-yeong to continue.
"But I'll tell you before the market opens."
"Too late. I've received letters from Shanxi too. They say they'll cut the salt price, so buy as much as possible. With terms this good, others will surely try to snap it up first. We can't delay."
"Preemptive buying like that only happens with bulk purchases."
Preemptive buying—pay a deposit, settle the balance, and take the goods.
Since it relied on credit, it was an implicit method used only for large transactions.
"I can say with certainty: major players like the Huizhou merchants won't touch this market's salt trade. So we have plenty of time."
"Another baseless claim."
"This one can be proven immediately."
"How?"
Muk Hwi-yeong's eyes curved slyly.
"Among this batch of lay disciples, there's a son of the Merchant Kings, right? The Merchant Kings include the Yeo family, one of Huizhou's fifteen clans. Why not ask him directly? In Hubei, the only big buyer for preemptive salt deals is the Huizhou merchants."
Cheongui stared at Muk Hwi-yeong, then turned his head toward the door.
"Call Cheonghyeon. Tell him to bring the Merchant King's son."
"Yes, sir!"
A warrior outside sprang into action. Until Cheonghyeon arrived, the room brimmed with suffocating tension.
A mere twenty-something youth was locked in a battle of wills with Wudang's sect leader. Cheongsu felt dizzy just watching, but Muk Hwi-yeong seemed utterly unperturbed.
Soon, Cheonghyeon rushed in with a frail-looking young man.
"You called, Sect Leader?"
"Yes. Is that the Merchant King's son beside you?"
The frail man wore a matching timid expression. He'd never dreamed of meeting Wudang's sect leader as a lay disciple.
"I'm Yeo Hong-yang."
"Right. Hong-yang, I called you because I have something to ask."
"What would that be?"
"Will the Huizhou merchants participate in this Yichang market?"
Yeo Hong-yang trembled. He seemed exceedingly timid. Not knowing the sect leader's intent behind such a question, his reaction was natural.
"As far as I know, no."
"Why? Fifty carts is a pretty big deal, isn't it?"
"I'd have to go back home for the exact details, but none of Huizhou's fifteen clans are entering the Yichang market."
Yeo Hong-yang's voice shook, but his assertion was firm. The Samcheong Hall meeting room fell silent as if doused in cold water.
If Shanxi merchants dominated north of the Yangtze, Huizhou merchants ruled south. For a market big enough to draw Shanxi, the Huizhou absence was undeniably strange.
"...Go on, then."
Cheongui, who had been speechless for so long, finally spoke.
Yeo Hong-yang started to bow but, prodded in the back by Cheonghyeon, clasped his hands in salute and hurried out. The murim had its own rites, after all.
"How did you know? That the Huizhou merchants won't join this Yichang market."
Cheongui turned to Muk Hwi-yeong the moment he left.
"That's a trade secret. Can't spill it."
"Trade secret?"
"Yes. Glad my words seem a bit more credible now."
Muk Hwi-yeong grinned, either oblivious to the mood or doing it on purpose.
The elders, who had been venting complaints nonstop, couldn't speak now. In the end, Muk Hwi-yeong had proven at least one of his claims.
Cheongui let out a sigh as he spoke.
"No preemptive buying."
"Sect Leader!"
The elders jumped in shock, worried the salt would be snatched away.
But even Cheongsu thought it was a reasonable call. Without Huizhou merchants, Muk Hwi-yeong's point about no big buyers for preemptive deals was spot-on insight. Among those present, only Cheongsu—the one who somewhat understood commerce—and Cheongui, who heard his reports, grasped it.
"Go to the market and buy it yourselves."
"Yes."
Cheongsu replied. Wudang wasn't so flighty as to shift its entire stance on one lay disciple's word.
"But take this kid with you."
Cheongui's finger pointed straight at Muk Hwi-yeong.
Muk Hwi-yeong looked stunned.
"This child needs training in Wudang."
"The salt trade sways Wudang's entire year. Is there anything more important?"
Cheongsu bowed his head at Cheongui's stern words. He was right, of course. Missing a few days wouldn't ruin a true expert's path anyway.
Then Muk Hwi-yeong, oblivious as ever, chimed in.
"What am I supposed to do if I go?"
"Buy the salt."
"Pardon?"
Even Cheongsu was dumbfounded. Until now, Muk Hwi-yeong had insisted against buying salt.
"We're not just doing the salt trade to make money. It's to stably supply salt to Hubei Province and ensure the people's peace. We have to buy it one way or another."
"So if we just wait a bit..."
"I can't trust that."
Muk Hwi-yeong fell silent at Cheongui's words. What more could he say to a lack of trust?
"You buy the salt. Can't come back empty-handed. But you seem resourceful, so buy it cheap."
"What kind of outrageous demand is that?"
Muk Hwi-yeong finally exploded. Cheongsu agreed—Cheongui's words didn't add up.
Ah. Cheongsu realized then. Cheongui was taming Muk Hwi-yeong too—by giving him an impossible task.
"Hall Master. Say something. This is ridiculous."
Muk Hwi-yeong turned to Cheongsu, but he had already done the math.
"We'll do that."
"Hall Master?"
"Yes. On to the next item."
Muk Hwi-yeong's protests were ignored as they moved straight to the next agenda. He was unceremoniously chased out of the meeting room, unable to say more.
Cheongsu met Muk Hwi-yeong's resentful glare but pretended not to notice.
"Damn these snout-faced bastards."
I sighed. I'd never liked the irrational, impractical mindset of martial artists, but now I realized I'd poked the bear needlessly and earned their grudge.
I'd poked too hard.
In my eyes, I'd definitely rubbed Cheongui the wrong way. Why else would he saddle me with such nonsense? Telling me outright to haggle down the price. Preemptive bulk buys might give room to negotiate, but on-site haggling with those stingy Shanxi merchants? Good luck.
At least I'd spotted the Merchant King's son among the lay disciples. Without Yeo Hong-yang, it could have gone much worse.
"...What now."
I pondered deeply before heading down to Gokjeon Hall.
Then a flash of inspiration hit.
The outer courtyard. That's where the lay disciples stayed. When a merchant's in trouble, he turns to fellow merchants—that's the way.
I turned toward the outer courtyard. It was full of people tied to escort agencies, transport firms, and merchant groups. And to enter Wudang as lay disciples, they were likely from south of the Huai River region.
"Jeon O-su!"
The moment I reached the outer courtyard, I spotted a ray of light.
It was Jeon O-su, son of Muhan Transport Agency, wearing a flustered expression.