97. The Nobles of Hwi Province (2)
“Son. Do you know why you're going to Wudang?”
Yeo Hong-yang knelt on one knee, lifting only his head. His father was hidden behind the black silk screen, visible only as a silhouette.
“So that Cheonsu Merchant Group can exert greater influence in the murim world.”
“That's not an answer I'm particularly fond of.”
His father's voice turned cold in an instant. Yeo Hong-yang grew anxious by contrast. Then, he suddenly recalled the words the faction leader had spoken.
“Because Hubei is geographically ideal for blocking Shanxi merchants' advance.”
“Better than before. Still a bit lacking, though. Tell me your true feelings.”
“My true feelings?”
Yeo Hong-yang was flustered. True feelings? Such an abstract concept didn't fly in the merchant world. It was an unfamiliar word from his father, who always demanded numbers and solid evidence. But the man behind the screen wasn't one for jokes.
As Yeo Hong-yang hesitated, his father snorted as if he'd expected it.
“Ridiculous. If you can't even reveal what's in your own heart, how do you expect to show goods to others?”
“...That's!”
Isn't that a different matter altogether? The retort lingered in his throat. Of course, Yeo Hong-yang lacked the guts to voice it.
“I'll answer for you. Among my children, you're the one with the least influence in the merchant group. That's why we're sending you to Wudang.”
Only then did Yeo Hong-yang grasp the 'true feelings' his father meant. Shockingly, it was his own truth—one he hadn't even recognized himself.
His deep-rooted inferiority complex and low self-esteem had blinded him to it. That's why, even though he knew it deep down, he could never bring himself to say it aloud.
Yeo Hong-yang clenched his fists. His body trembled.
“Connections with Wudang lay disciples? They mean little to Cheonsu Merchant Group. There probably isn't even a lay disciple with better origins than you right now.”
His father's sharp words continued.
“You'll just end up as someone who safely descends the mountain as a lay disciple and secures Wudang's cooperation for business in Hubei. Pathetic.”
His father, the Merchant King Yeo Bul-jin, wielded a tongue like a hundred flying daggers. Yeo Hong-yang endured the insults in silence.
“But it's also your last chance. Proposing new business to Wudang or drawing them into the merchant world would mean a great deal to Cheonsu. Of course, the latter seems tough even to me. Just an example.”
“...Yes.”
“I've given you plenty of hints. Know some shame. Your eldest brother is navigating thorns without any such guidance.”
His eldest brother, Yeo Hong-won—just five years older—was handling communications with the imperial palace in Beijing. Crucial work for Cheonsu Merchant Group.
It carried far more weight than managing some insignificant faction with no influence.
“You're dismissed.”
Yeo Hong-yang rose, bowed, and headed for the door. Then his father's voice rang out again from behind.
“Remember this, son. There's always only one at the top.”
An obvious saying. It was his father's favorite mantra—one Yeo Hong-yang hated. Of course there's only one top spot. What's so profound about that?
Yeo Hong-yang bowed his head deeply and exited. The moment he stepped out, his foot plunged into darkness.
He tumbled into the void without even a scream.
…
Just as suffocation closed in amid the blackness, Yeo Hong-yang's eyes snapped open. He bolted upright, gasping for breath, heart pounding, back and nape slick with sweat.
“Damn it.”
“Woke up again?”
Jeon O-su stirred beside him. Dawn light filtered through the window—it was still early.
“Nah. Go back to sleep.”
Yeo Hong-yang kicked off the blanket and stepped outside. The pre-dawn breeze chilled him.
It had been over a year since entering as a lay disciple. Lay disciple training lasted two years per batch.
Meaning descent from the mountain was approaching.
What have I accomplished so far?
As a Wudang lay disciple, he'd certainly built trust and camaraderie with his peers.
That was it, though. Just as his father said, he hadn't proposed new business to Wudang or drawn them into the merchant world.
Well, new business had happened, and merchants had entered—but from the most unexpected source. Muk Hwi-yeong, another lay disciple his age, and his Hwi-yeong Merchant Group.
What the hell is that guy?
He'd sensed from their first meeting that Muk Hwi-yeong was no ordinary fellow. Now, he seemed like someone from another world entirely.
Like his own eldest brother, Yeo Hong-won.
Yeo Hong-yang knew the situation well enough. Hwi-yeong Merchant Group had drawn Wudang into the merchant world, and their first venture was shockingly salt trading. No idea how he'd secured salt merchants with such prowess.
So he'd waited outside for days. But no sign. Suddenly, fear gripped him. Am I useless to him now?
His body shuddered. Familiar sensation—disappointment in himself filling every inch, later gumming up any rising self-esteem like sticky residue.
As Yeo Hong-yang sank into self-pity again, someone approached from outside the outer courtyard. Thankfully, it was Muk Hwi-yeong. Yeo Hong-yang quickly schooled his expression.
Their meeting proceeded straight to business.
Truth be told, Yeo Hong-yang needed it more desperately. Muk Hwi-yeong had achieved what he couldn't—a prime connection to proudly introduce to his father.
In that sense, he wanted a tighter bond with Muk Hwi-yeong, seeing this as the opportunity. He'd prepared generous terms. But Muk Hwi-yeong's words were absurd.
“I want to invest in you.”
“I'll give you money, and you'll cooperate with me.”
“Heir? Since when were you an heir?”
Muk Hwi-yeong ruthlessly prodded Yeo Hong-yang's weak spots, as if sensing his inferiority complex—cruelly, deeply.
Fuming, Yeo Hong-yang rose to leave, but one sentence stopped him.
“Yeo Hong-won. You want to beat him, right?”
Knowing a giant like Cheonsu Merchant Group's heir wasn't easy—they hid identities to avoid kidnappings.
Heirs operated openly enough that perfect secrecy was impossible, but it was hushed within the group, leaks monitored.
Yet Muk Hwi-yeong had uncovered his brother's name. Not surprising—he had the capability.
The issue: how he'd pierced Yeo Hong-yang's desire to surpass Yeo Hong-won. He hadn't mentioned him to friends like Jeon O-su, nor shown his resentment.
“Let's hear it. How will you make me beat my brother?”
Pretending excitement, Yeo Hong-yang sat—but coldly analytical. Acting was his edge over siblings.
Even he nearly lost composure at Muk Hwi-yeong's next words.
“Simple. Take what he has, and get what he can't take.”
“You're joking.”
This time, his cool shattered. Too vague, too basic.
“Even a lowly servant could say that.”
“You still lack experience.”
“What?”
“Not curious what to take and what to get?”
Yeo Hong-yang went blank, like clubbed in the skull. He knows? Something even he hadn't figured out after years? Regaining wits, he pressed urgently.
“What do I take and get?”
“From what I know, your brother Yeo Hong-won excels more at networking than commerce. He's in Beijing now, right?”
Yeo Hong-yang paled. Yeo Hong-won's Beijing post was a closely guarded group secret. This showed Muk Hwi-yeong's info network.
(Of course, as a regressor, Muk Hwi-yeong just knew.)
“...Whatever. So?”
“Anyway, your brother plans to run the group on connections over commerce. Solid strategy—impresses the Merchant King too. Managing a large group prioritizes judging people over goods.”
“I know that much.”
Yeo Hong-yang cut in gruffly. Muk Hwi-yeong continued unperturbed.
“But you're superior overall. A bit timid, but good actor, eloquent speaker, decent judge of character.”
“Th-thanks.”
Caught off-guard by the praise, Yeo Hong-yang soon regretted it.
“But all mediocre. Good acting, but not opera-worthy. Eloquent, but not overpowering. Decent eye, but can't spot hermits.”
“Outrageous.”
“Cold, hard truth.”
Surprisingly, Yeo Hong-yang didn't mind. He agreed somewhat—it chillingly matched his self-assessment.
“You don't need to be the best in the Central Plains. That's innate. Just top in Cheonsu Merchant Group. More precisely, top among heirs. It's relative.”
“True.”
“That's your edge over other heirs. No one can match it.”
“Really? No idea.”
News to Yeo Hong-yang. Muk Hwi-yeong eyed him expectantly, then disappointedly.
“You know Wudang people. You're Cheonsu's Wudang expert. Means you're basically in charge of murim ties. Who can't you meet through Wudang?”
“Come on. That's obvious—I came as a lay disciple.”
“Why not weaponize the obvious? Did you fall from a tree as a kid?”
“This bastard...”
Yeo Hong-yang trailed off. Suddenly, his role crystallized: top in martial force within Cheonsu. Muk Hwi-yeong grinned.
“Got it?”
“Yeah.”
Yeo Hong-yang nodded solemnly.
“Martial prowess. That's what I need.”
“Historically, usurpers were mostly warlords—despite lacking political skill. Martial force is the surest way to seize power.”
Muk Hwi-yeong spoke gravely. Yeo Hong-yang nodded, then paused.
“But is it okay spilling all this?”
“What?”
“I haven't agreed to cooperate. What if I bolt with just this?”
“You're smart—you know dealing with Wudang alone versus through me is night-and-day efficiency.”
Yeo Hong-yang smacked his lips. Undeniable. Muk Hwi-yeong was tight with core disciples, short of official disciple status.
“So I provide Hwi Province merchant intel and favors, you provide our faction martial support?”
“Still not getting it. Too dense to inherit the group.”
“Did I say wrong?”
“Yes. I said I'm investing in your faction?”
Yeo Hong-yang blinked.
“Investing in you.”
“Right. I'm investing in you the person. I'm the investor, not your handler. Don't tell me you want to live leashed?”
“...Ahem.”
Yeo Hong-yang flushed, embarrassed at nearly leaning fully on him.
“Yeah. That's my part.”
Thus, he didn't ask what to steal from his brother—that was his to figure.
“Good. Finally got it.”
Muk Hwi-yeong nodded.
The moment they boarded the same ship.