Fallen Angel (3)
What had I done wrong? Sure, I'd ordered food and tossed some silver taels around to draw eyes. But that shouldn't have been that distasteful.
Lost in such thoughts as I eyed the martial artists, something suddenly caught my attention. It was their attire. That garb looked awfully familiar, like something I'd seen plenty of times before.
"Those are folks from the Zhuge Clan, young master."
The waiter whispered from the side. Ah, right. That archaic blue robe and blue tassels symbolized the Zhuge Clan.
"You could've said something sooner."
"Ah, I figured you'd know. My apologies."
"No harm done."
Come to think of it, this was Xiangyang. If Junxian County in Hubei was the front yard of the Wudang Sect, then Xiangyang was the front yard of the Zhuge Clan. Their main estate, Longzhong Mountain, was right nearby.
And this was one of Xiangyang's top restaurants. I should've expected Zhuge Clan members here.
"Senior Brother."
"Hm?"
"The Zhuge Clan folks want us to join them for a meal. What do we do?"
"Why?"
"Beats me."
But there was no reason to turn down a table with the Zhuge Clan. If Wudang represented Hubei's sects, the Zhuge Clan represented its families. No harm in getting acquainted.
"By the way, upstairs they've got even tastier dishes."
"Then let's head up."
Myeong-gyeong's eyes sparkled. After years of surviving on grass roots, his taste buds were unleashed and running wild.
"This way to the second floor, then."
The waiter led us up. Three people sat at the table. The one who'd stared down at us earlier was still standing, so probably just a guard.
I quickly scanned the seated pair. A beauty in her mid-twenties sat there.
"Wudang disciples, as I thought."
The Zhuge woman greeted us warmly first. Before I could bow, Myeong-gyeong beat me to it with a cupped-fist salute.
"I'm Myeong-gyeong of Wudang. The friend beside me is my junior brother, Muk Hwi-yeong."
"Junior brother?"
She looked a bit flustered. No surprise—an apparent kid as senior brother and a young adult like me as junior? Weird.
"And you, young lady? No Taoist title?"
"Lay disciple."
I answered this time. Her expression plunged deeper into confusion.
"A lay disciple, yet senior and junior brothers with a temple disciple?"
"Same master."
"That's a first."
"Would be."
I just shrugged. No need to bore them with the details of named lay disciples. If curious, they'd look it up.
"I'm Zhuge Yeon."
"Nice to... wait, what?"
"What's with that reaction?"
I'd blurted out dumbly without thinking. Never expected that name here. It was hugely famous in merchant circles.
Poison Heart Iron Mask Zhuge Yeon. For a woman of the prestigious Five Great Families—one of the elite clans—to bear such a vicious nickname, there had to be reason.
Zhuge Yeon spearheaded the Zhuge Clan's external ventures as deputy head of their outer operations. She leveraged their wealth and imperial connections to expand ruthlessly.
The problem was her methods. She'd infiltrate local merchants, slash prices, wait for them to buckle, then buy them out—at rock-bottom rates, of course.
Enemy of countless local traders and small caravans.
Who knew how many had despaired in failure and ended their own lives because of her.
"Ah, nothing. Nice to meet you."
I brushed it off and moved to sit. Zhuge Yeon stared straight at me.
Large eyes, sharp nose, clear forehead. She had every trait of a beauty.
That was why I hadn't recognized her at first. Having run a major caravan myself, I'd crossed paths with her, who dominated Hubei's markets. Back then, she'd worn an iron mask. The "Iron Mask" in her nickname wasn't bravado—it was literal. She always wore one for external dealings.
Opinions varied on why. Some said it hid her face from the enemies she'd made; others, that she was one of the Central Plains' ugliest and hid her looks.
Today proved the latter utter nonsense. She could vie for Hubei's top beauty without shame—who started that rumor?
"Thanks for the invite."
"No need to thank me."
Her curt, icy tone confirmed it—this was Zhuge Yeon.
"If I'd known you were lay disciples, I wouldn't have called you over."
Her personality matched the rumors: arrogant, dismissive. Famous for cutting off anyone she deemed unworthy of her words.
Born to the prestigious Zhuge Clan with top-tier talent, underlings probably looked like ants. Bluntly, that attitude doomed most merchants. Her success? Zhuge Clan backing. That alone soured me on her.
Still, I wasn't fool enough to show it. I flashed a sly grin.
"Haha. Even lay disciples can make good friends, no?"
"Not at all. Can you befriend fish or birds?"
"You saying I look like a beast?"
"Just that we live in different worlds."
She'd invited us thinking temple disciples, disappointed at laymen. Fair—networks mattered.
I knew her type, so I shrugged it off. But an unexpected reinforcement struck.
"What's with the auntie?"
"...Pardon?"
Myeong-gyeong's clear eyes pierced Zhuge Yeon. She looked like she'd misheard.
"Why's auntie picking on my junior brother?"
Stunned by the surprise blow, Zhuge Yeon blinked blankly. Regaining composure, she fixed Myeong-gyeong with a frosty glare.
"I didn't know Wudang bred such ill-mannered folk."
"Auntie started it."
"Picking on you? I merely stated facts."
"So did I."
"That's no fact. Why am I an 'auntie'?"
"If my eyes say so, it is."
Zhuge Yeon looked utterly baffled. Arguing with a kid like this? Uncommon.
"What do you do about it? Even as senior brother, age demands you teach manners."
The arrow swung back to me. I dodged smoothly.
"How dare I meddle in senior brother's conduct? That'd be bullying the master and destroying the ancestors."
"Good grief."
Zhuge Yeon clenched tiny fists, trembling, then shot to her feet. She wouldn't use martial arts, would she? I tensed—
But unexpectedly, she bowed deeply to us.
"My apologies. I lost my temper. I apologize to young master Muk as well. Please forgive me, Daoist Myeong-gyeong."
The sudden shift left us blinking. Before I could speak, Myeong-gyeong seized the lead.
"Fine. Watch it next time."
"Yes. Sorry. I didn't mean to cause a fuss by inviting you. I've ordered dishes for you gentlemen—eat your fill."
What the hell? Breakdown? Myeong-gyeong bought it wholesale, pure as he was. But I knew her type—she never backed down like that.
Suspicion aside, the food arrived: bear paw braised in red sauce, eight-treasure tofu soup, red-braised shark fin. Dishes peasants might never taste, all reservation-only rarities.
"Please, dig in—my treat."
Zhuge Yeon smiled warmly now, no trace of her earlier chill. Her beauty nearly fooled me with that eye smile.
"Whoa! You're a good person after all, big sis!"
Myeong-gyeong dove in without a second thought. "Auntie" to "big sis" in a flash.
"Don't hold back, young master Muk."
"Ah, yes. You eat too."
"I ate plenty earlier."
Liar. No food scent when we entered.
What scheme from this viper? No clue. But the food was innocent. I ate heartily.
She never touched a bite, just watched. Once we were stuffed, she spoke softly.
"Might I ask you gentlemen something?"
"Sure!"
Myeong-gyeong was fully won over, all goodwill now. Hard to believe the bickering moments ago.
"Wudang's recent venture—you know it?"
"Venture?"
"Yes. The warehousing business between wholesale and retail."
I flinched at the surprise. That was the business I'd pitched to Wudang to prove my talent.
"Dunno."
Myeong-gyeong answered. He wouldn't know—too young to grasp it.
Zhuge Yeon hadn't expected him to anyway.
"I see. Word is Elder Gokjeon launched it."
Officially, yes. Admitting a lay disciple? Bad optics for Wudang.
I stayed silent, gauging her intent.
"And?"
"Truth is, the Zhuge Clan is interested too. I'd like you to pass this letter to Elder Gokjeon."
"Huh? Letter?"
As Myeong-gyeong echoed, she drew a neatly folded paper from her bosom. I narrowed my eyes.
"Wudang, as one of the Nine Great Sects, lacks ties to merchant houses or escort agencies. We Zhuges can fill that gap."
"No idea what you mean."
"Just deliver the letter, Daoist Myeong-gyeong."
She covered her mouth with a sleeve, smiling. I twisted my lips.
Now I got it. Her reason for joining us.
Not true partnership—this was her classic ploy. Lure weak caravans into "cooperation," steal their know-how, then ditch them.
She must've eyed that business. Partner with Wudang, learn the ropes, then cut them loose.
Naive Daoists might bite—most shunned greed. But not me, Muk Hwi-yeong.
"Hold on, senior brother."
As Myeong-gyeong reached for it, I spoke up.
He turned before taking it.
"What?"
"Don't take that letter."
Zhuge Yeon's smile froze solid.