Dead Men Tell No Tales (4)
“Er, uhoh, al orida. Yeae aeo saiae aeuheoia.”
“……”
What the hell is this nonsense?
I looked at Mun Il-ji. He immediately interpreted for me.
“He says he doesn’t know much. He got it from a merchant he knew long ago.”
“Wow. How do you even make sense of that?”
“After getting beaten so much, I kinda figured it out.”
“You’re ruthless.”
“Try getting hit by that poison yourself once. This is nothing compared to the pain he’s feeling right now.”
Mun Il-ji snorted. Merchants wander the Central Plains and rack up all sorts of experiences, so they can eat even in front of horrors like this. That’s what merchants are.
Still, it was a bit odd that it wasn’t some black-clad warrior but a merchant who gave it to him. Why the hell would a merchant have San-gong Dok?
“What merchant? Where and when did you get it?”
“Aeo, seuhaeo ieutaeimnida.”
“He says it was when he was in Shanxi.”
I frowned. Shanxi. Of course, that’s where the Shanxi merchant families hold sway.
The Shanxi merchants are deeply tied to the imperial palace. There’s no way the palace would turn a blind eye to San-gong Dok. I couldn’t fathom how it had gotten there.
“If he was in Shanxi, that puts it about five years ago.”
“Five years ago.”
I rubbed my chin with my fingers. The Hwi-yeong Merchant Group is built around the fifteen Hwi clans, while the Shanxi merchants consist of four great families.
“What’s his name?”
“Eu, eueo, oeuiya.”
I didn’t even need an interpreter for that one. Shaking his head back and forth meant he didn’t know. I grabbed his shaking head and forced him to meet my eyes straight on.
“Was that merchant’s family name Jin, Gwan, Na, or Jeok by any chance?”
“A, wa, wan! Wani eoyeoyo!”
“Gwan?”
I glanced at Mun Il-ji, who nodded. Repetition really is key to learning. After hearing it a few times, I could almost make it out myself.
“The Gwan family.”
I let out a low hum. The Gwans ran the Unjang Merchant Group. As the name suggested, they were descendants of Lord Guan.
Even among the trust-obsessed Shanxi merchants, they were an outlier. In my previous life, their unique sense of trust had kept them on good terms with me and the Hwi-yeong Merchant Group. As far as I knew, the Unjang Merchant Group wasn’t the type to collude with the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.
“This is a headache.”
If it had been the backstabbing Jinjin Merchant Group, who pretended to be trustworthy as a daily routine, I might’ve shrugged it off. But hearing the name of a group that had been friendly with my past self’s Hwi-yeong Merchant Group caught me off guard. And the current Black Dragon Sect leader had no reason to lie right now.
Suddenly, I recalled the head of the Unjang Merchant Group. She was probably in heir training right now. The only female head of a major merchant group. She hadn’t married even past forty, utterly obsessed with work. That’s why we’d gotten along so well.
I’ll have to pay a visit.
As soon as possible. Honestly, if it had been some other group tied to the cult, I would’ve let it drop. No need to expose myself by digging deeper.
But the Unjang Merchant Group was a friend to me and the Hwi-yeong Merchant Group. I couldn’t just sit by. They might end up framed for possessing San-gong Dok and face execution. I had to prevent that, at least.
No need to rush, though. Even thirty years after my death, the cult had only schemed in the shadows without acting openly. They weren’t ready yet.
“Doesn’t seem like there’s more to learn.”
I straightened my legs, which I’d crouched down with to meet his gaze.
“No more questions?”
“Yeah. Handle him however.”
“That’s my job.”
“Fair enough.”
Merchants value relationships as much as non-relationships. If there’s no tie, you shut it out. It’s like refusing to hear a classmate’s secret.
To be blunt, I died in my previous life because I couldn’t distinguish between the two. The cult and I had no connection, yet that one pill had killed me.
I left the Black Dragon Sect—leaving behind its former leader—and headed out.
By the time I returned to the Hwi-yeong Merchant Group, the eunuchs who’d been tearing through the place had already clocked out. Jo Choong-hyeon was still there, re-sorting the documents they’d mixed up.
“You’re back.”
“Yeah.”
“Ah, someone from the Pojeongsa came by.”
“What?”
I frowned. Pojeongsa only brought that damn Vice Minister of Accounts to mind. Jo Choong-hyeon caught on and quickly clarified.
“Not the Vice Minister. It was one of the Attendants this time.”
“An Attendant?”
Hyeong Taeseong. My face naturally relaxed into a smile. There was only one reason he’d summon me.
It was time for the counterattack.
***
Hyeong Taeseong kept wetting his throat. In twenty years of officialdom, he’d never trembled like this. He knew it himself—whistleblowing was a massive gamble.
“Throat parched?”
Wang Song, seated at the head, smiled at him. Hyeong Taeseong choked on his tea and coughed.
“Cough, cough.”
“Ah, sorry about that.”
Wang Song smiled. Hyeong Taeseong didn’t let his guard down even seeing it.
Wang Song. Right Deputy Censor-in-Chief of the Censorate. The real power who could make birds fall from the sky. Even the Pojeongsa probably didn’t know he was here. He’d come as Hyeong Taeseong’s personal guest, hat pulled low for secrecy. Hats weren’t allowed in the Pojeongsa, but for the first time, he’d used his authority as Attendant to silence the lower officials.
“No, my apologies.”
“Let’s talk when the Hwi-yeong Merchant Group head arrives.”
“Yes. But this is the office’s dirty laundry—letting a commoner hear it feels off, doesn’t it?”
Hyeong Taeseong found it a bit strange. The Censorate’s Right Deputy was here for his corruption tip-off. So why involve the Hwi-yeong head too?
“The Hwi-yeong head isn’t the type to blab, is he?”
“Even so……”
“I have my reasons.”
“Understood.”
The Right Deputy Censor-in-Chief was a rank 3 official. That carried far more weight than a local rank 4.
Soon, a slight commotion stirred outside. Wang Song smiled.
“He’s here.”
Hyeong Taeseong nodded. Even he could tell only Muk Hwi-yeong could cause such a stir. The man who’d crushed the Muhan Merchant Association, only to get targeted by the Vice Minister’s classmate and plummet. Especially in the Ministry of Accounts office, where the Vice Minister held a grudge—the fuss would be bigger.
“Muk Hwi-yeong here.”
Sure enough, someone knocked and entered. His expensive clothes and gentle demeanor screamed merchant. Muk Hwi-yeong glanced briefly at the ceiling above Wang Song before looking away.
“Long time no see.”
“Right Deputy Censor-in-Chief, sir. I hope you’ve been well.”
“I’m fine. It’s those who see me who usually aren’t.”
“Fortunately, I’ve been doing well.”
“Weren’t you struggling? I looked into the Muhan business—you went through quite the ordeal.”
Muk Hwi-yeong just chuckled dryly. Hyeong Taeseong thought inwardly that the young man was impressive. Dragging in a classmate felt like cheating. Anyone would rage or vent injustice, but he just laughed it off. Always so unflappably mature beyond his years.
“Attendant Hyeong, long time no see.”
“Yes, indeed.”
With an elder at the head, greetings were brief. As Muk Hwi-yeong sat, he swirled the teacup in front of him.
“The tea’s gone cold. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”
“You came right away, didn’t you?”
“That I did. Ran straight here.”
“No sweat for a runner?”
“A martial artist who sweats from this needs to retrain.”
“Aren’t you a merchant?”
“Decided to do both. Feels like a waste to limit myself.”
“Not a bad idea.”
Wang Song laughed heartily. Hyeong Taeseong marveled inwardly at Muk Hwi-yeong’s composure before the elder. And when he revealed ambitions like this, he seemed youthful too. A man of many facets.
“Do you know why I called you?”
“Straight to business?”
“We’re all busy, aren’t we?”
Hyeong Taeseong tensed again. He was the whistleblower, yet Wang Song seemed more focused on Muk Hwi-yeong.
“Meddling in official affairs is burdensome for a commoner like me.”
“Then you can leave.”
“But embracing the burden is how one becomes great. Dodging it just keeps you ordinary.”
“So you aim to be great.”
“It’s faint now, but yes, I dare to say so.”
Muk Hwi-yeong smiled faintly.
“To answer your question: You want to bury the Vice Minister completely.”
“Why think that?”
“Why else call me, who’s made an enemy of him?”
“Spot on.”
Wang Song’s eyes gleamed. Muk Hwi-yeong’s did too. Hyeong Taeseong lacked the experience to join their exchange yet.
“The corruption itself isn’t that important to you, is it?”
“It’s just an excuse from the Censorate’s view. What do you think we do?”
“Publicly, root out officials’ corruption to build a better nation.”
“Internally?”
“Check factions under direct imperial orders, maintaining balance.”
“Excellent. Good call bringing you here.”
Hyeong Taeseong finally realized: Calling Muk Hwi-yeong was a gamble for Wang Song too. If their first meeting hadn’t impressed him deeply, this wouldn’t have happened.
“The Vice Minister’s small fry. A local Ministry of Accounts Vice Minister influencing the capital? Near impossible.”
“So it’s really about his classmate.”
“Without that, I wouldn’t come myself. Maybe send an inspector. He’s strangling himself.”
As the secretive talk began, voices lowered naturally. Muk Hwi-yeong rolled his eyes upward.
“Ki-mak barrier up?”
“Obviously.”
“You’ve got guards. Didn’t sense a thing.”
“Don’t lie. You eyed the ceiling on entry.”
“Haha, caught me.”
“Censorate folks rack up grudges. Can’t wander without protection.”
“Fair point.”
Hyeong Taeseong felt the air shift too, though as a non-martial artist, he couldn’t tell if it was ki-mak.
“Anyway, his classmate’s momentum is fierce. Traditionally, the Imperial Guard dominated them, but now it’s reversed.”
“Is that so?”
“Palace factions abound, but Guard vs. classmate rivalry tops the Censorate’s list. Info and force make it inevitable.”
“Makes sense. So bundle the Vice Minister and his classmate for the chop.”
“Exactly. No personal grudge against the classmate—just doing my Censorate duty.”
Hyeong Taeseong grew uneasy. He’d just wanted to expose corruption, not get dragged into central faction wars.
A rank 4 official like him was rattled—yet the mere commoner Muk Hwi-yeong just smiled. Not bold; gutsy beyond measure.
“I’ve got a rough plan. Link his corruption and favors to pressure on your group, then tie that to his classmate.”
“Not wrong.”
“Speculation, really. They’re connected, but proving the classmate took bribes? Tough. But narratives can be crafted.”
“True enough.”
Same trick the classmate used to shut down Hwi-yeong on ‘suspicion’ alone. He’d reap what he sowed.
“But there’s a problem.”
“What?”
“The classmate won’t go quietly—expect backlash.”
“True. But pushing through is Censorate work. Don’t worry.”
“I’ll help.”
Hyeong Taeseong and even Wang Song’s eyes widened at Muk Hwi-yeong’s words.
“How?”
“As the saying goes.”
Muk Hwi-yeong pressed a finger to his lips.
“Dead men tell no tales.”
His unyielding smile was chilling. Utterly chilling.