18. The Market (1)
The market. The flower of commerce. Though it varied by region, markets generally opened at noon with the tolling of bells and closed at sunset with another chime.
Once the market was in full swing, merchants shouted at the top of their lungs, while customers bustled about, comparing prices and haggling. The noise was inevitable—and that was the charm of the marketplace.
"It's really noisy."
Cheongsu frowned. The other Wudang warriors did the same.
Coming from the quiet peaks of Wudang Mountain, their ears weren't used to the clamor. For those who prized silence over racket, the market felt downright filthy.
But I found a vibrant energy in the heat of it all. The aromas from makeshift teahouses and taverns, butchers, clothiers, spice vendors, and apothecaries mingled in the air.
"This energy... isn't it great?"
"Great, my foot."
"People living so fiercely like this. I think rubbing shoulders with them suits me better than playing at immortality."
"Even if you say that, you've already mastered Cheongunbo, so you're a core disciple now."
Markets were typically divided into sections, with shops grouped by trade into "rows." I'd heard there were fifty such rows here—a grand affair.
"So where's this salt merchant?"
"The top salt merchants always snag the best spots in the market. They'll be right in the center."
"You know your stuff."
"It's common knowledge. Common knowledge. You didn't even know that?"
Back at Wudang, I'd played dumb about martial arts, but this was my turf.
Cheongsu's face soured, like he'd swallowed a fly. I had to be careful—if I pushed too hard, he might acupoint-seal me right in the middle of the market.
Cheongsu and the Wudang warriors followed me like they were entranced. Markets looked chaotic, but there was always a path. Rookies like Wudang folk could easily get lost and wander in circles.
Then they'd be stuck until closing. The market was merciless to newbies—a beast without pity. The same went for every trade, martial world included.
"I can already taste the salt in the air. My eyes are watering from it."
"What kind of expression is that?"
"Means the salt merchant's right ahead."
Sure enough, rounding the next alley brought us to the salt district. Plenty of salt merchants, but the Shanxi traders' stall stood out. The quality of their clothes and the sheer volume of salt gave it away.
The Shanxi side spotted us first. A pot-bellied man in green cotton robes approached.
"Ah, esteemed heroes of Wudang. I'm Kang Jeon from the Shanxi branch."
"I'm Cheongsu, master of Wudang's Gokjeon Pavilion. I'm here on other business—the escort duty falls to these core disciples."
"I see."
The five elite disciples introduced themselves. No one would dare touch first-generation disciples of the Myeongja lineage. It wasn't just their martial prowess; who in Hebei would cross Wudang? That's why the Shanxi merchants hired them for protection.
"Of course. Pavilion Master—I've seen your name on many documents. An honor to have you here."
Kang Jeon said it, but he seemed indifferent to Cheongsu. He paid more attention to the five elites.
They were the real guardians, after all. Practical thinking, like any good merchant.
Cheongsu sensed it and bit his inner lip. Being dismissed by a "lowly" merchant must have galled him.
"If I may ask, what brings the Pavilion Master here?"
Kang Jeon's bare-minimum courtesy made Cheongsu bristle with humiliation.
I caught Kang Jeon's gaze. Cold, calculating—like appraising goods or customers.
He's got us figured out.
It hit me then. Kang Jeon was deliberately snubbing Cheongsu. Wudang's internal info had leaked to the Shanxi merchants. He already knew what Cheongsu would say.
"I'm here to buy salt."
Cheongsu declared. Kang Jeon tilted his head with exaggerated flair.
"Didn't Wudang say they weren't buying salt at this fair?"
"We didn't sign advance contracts because we wanted to buy on-site—not because we weren't buying at all."
"Is that so? The advance slots are already filled. Why take the loss?"
Now Kang Jeon was outright prickly. Reject our deal, get this treatment, his attitude screamed.
"It's an internal matter. Hard to explain."
"Understood. But on-site buys will cost far more than advance prices."
With the Shanxi crew openly disdainful, I knew I had to step in. Cheongsu's flushed face looked ready to explode.
"We'll buy cheap."
"Pardon?"
Kang Jeon's eyes finally turned to me. He'd pegged me as Cheongsu's lackey and ignored me till now.
"Is this gentleman also a Wudang disciple...?"
"Not a core disciple."
"Ah. Got it."
Kang Jeon's gaze sharpened. No core disciple? No need to bow.
"What do you mean by that?"
Learning I was a lay disciple flipped his tone. Classic posturing.
"I know something. The Intermediary Law is about to be abolished."
"What?"
Kang Jeon's face drained to ashen. Cheongsu's twisted in shock. He hadn't been told about the law's repeal.
"Hold on. What are you saying?"
Cheongsu cut in. Abolishing the law would end the Shanxi merchants' salt profiteering.
Salt prices stabilizing south of the Huai River? Simple logic. Cheongsu knew it, his eyes blazing.
"The Intermediary Law abolished? If that's true, were you planning to gouge Wudang?"
I'd expected this. In merchant wars, losing your cool meant defeat.
Kang Jeon's ashen face hardened to steel. He knew one slip could ruin everything, tension etched in his stance.
"To be precise, rumors are circulating in Beijing. It's confidential. I don't know how this lackey learned it, but as long as the law stands, we're not profiteering."
"He's right. The Shanxi merchants aren't gouging now. The law hasn't been repealed yet. We're just selling at regular price."
Siding with Kang Jeon, Cheongsu whipped toward me, face thunderous.
How dare a Wudang man side with merchants over Wudang?
"If word spreads about the law's repeal, won't that give you headaches too?"
Cheongsu snapped. He knew nothing of the merchant world. I answered for Kang Jeon.
"It's still a Beijing secret. If we spread it publicly, the palace will hold us accountable."
"Whose side are you on?!"
Cheongsu erupted. Kang Jeon piled on.
"The lackey's correct. Salt matters make officials touchy. Spreading this—even for Wudang—would draw imperial scrutiny."
No matter the unspoken martial-official truce, they shared the Central Plains. Clashes were inevitable, like now.
Cheongsu knew tangling with the palace was trouble; he just trembled with clenched fists.
"Anyway, I don't get this 'buying cheap' talk. Even if the law's going, we don't know when. Our prices won't change."
"Understood."
I bowed. My easy retreat stunned both Cheongsu and Kang Jeon.
The five elites went to guard the Shanxi salt stall, while we ducked into a nearby teahouse. Before the tea even arrived, Cheongsu growled at me.
"What the hell are you thinking?"
"Planning to buy salt cheap."
"From your act back there, it didn't look like it."
"See the forest, not the trees."
"You're testing my do-sim. I've never wanted to punch someone this bad."
"The Shanxi guy was pretty thick-headed."
"You little—!"
His shout drew every eye in the teahouse. Hebei folk clocked us as Wudang by our robes.
"A Wudang true man, quite angry."
"What's going on?"
Cheongsu yanked his hat low, embarrassed. Causing a scene would shame only Wudang—he'd realized too late.
After gulping his tea, Cheongsu calmed, lowering his voice.
"Hoo. Fine. Not telling me about the law repeal was one thing—share your damn plan."
"Kept the repeal quiet because you'd likely go aggressive. And you did, with the Shanxi guy."
"Wasn't I supposed to? It's crumbling soon—why not press?"
"Merchants are people too. Same price, they'd rather sell to polite customers than troublemakers."
"Troublemaker...?"
He winced at my word choice. A Wudang Taoist as "troublemaker"? Worse than an insult. I pressed on.
"Shouldn't you have told him first to avoid going aggressive?"
"No. I told you then so you'd go aggressive. If you'd known earlier, you wouldn't have blown up or leaked the Beijing secret."
"Your words are starting to not make sense."
"Simple: You play troublemaker, I stay the reasonable one. Your antics make me shine brighter."
"So you used me?"
"Yes."
My head slammed into the table. Cheongsu's hand had grabbed my occiput and smashed. He controlled his strength—the table didn't splinter. The bang drew more stares.
But Cheongsu didn't care anymore.
"Never seen such a mad bastard."
"Call it strategy. Don't you want cheap salt too, Pavilion Master?"
"...Hoo."
"Have some tea and relax. My head hurts."
Cheongsu sipped and sat back. I rubbed my forehead—a bump was rising.
"Fine, I get it. I make a scene, you look good. But that alone won't get us cheap salt."
"Obviously. Too obvious to answer."
"You have a knack for inviting fists. Damn punk."
"Merchants know how to poke emotions. Especially riling them up—it clouds judgment."
"You're a Wudang disciple, not a merchant."
Cheongsu sighed.
"So, what's next?"
"We wait. Fair lasts five days—no moves till at least day four."
"And till then?"
"Wander the market. If it's not too much, buy me some binggwa?"
"..."
Blue veins pulsed in Cheongsu's clenched fist. It was the first day of the five-day market.