Huizhou's Nobles (3)
A rare commotion stirred the usually serene Huaiyin Salt Transport Office. It was because, among the merchant groups that had come to exchange salt coupons, there was one no one had seen before.
"Hwi-yeong Merchant Group? Where's that from?"
"They're from Wuhu. Affiliated with the Dongho Merchant Association."
"That's Hubei. But didn't the Dongho Merchant Association go bankrupt ages ago?"
"That was ages ago. In Wuhu at least, Dongho completely crushed the Wuhu Merchant Association. That's why there were all those jokes about the Wuhu folks getting pushed out of their own turf."
"Why should I care about Hubei?"
Hu Jin-yang, the head of the Huaiyin Salt Transport Office—the Salt Transport Historian—scratched his head as if it were a headache.
The reason Huaiyin's office was more peaceful than others was simple: unlike other salt depots rife with territorial dogfights, this one was squarely the domain of the Huizhou merchants.
Thus, the merchant groups coming to exchange salt coupons for salt were always the usual suspects. No one else dared encroach on the Huizhou merchants' turf.
At first, Hu Jin-yang had assumed the Hwi-yeong Merchant Group was a new outfit spun up by the Huizhou side. But no—it turned out to be some small-time group from Hubei.
"Is the caravan master insane?"
"Who knows. Word is he's young. Barely in his twenties, they say."
"Starting a merchant group at that age? He should've just donated the money to me instead."
Hu Jin-yang let out a mocking chuckle. He'd seen plenty of kids eager for early success who set up shop young. Without exception, they failed spectacularly and ended up buried in debt.
That made it easier to understand why the Hwi-yeong Merchant Group had shown up at Huaiyin's salt depot. They were clueless rookies who didn't know the ways of the world—just the closest depot to Hubei, that's all.
"But getting their hands on salt coupons in the first place means they've got some pull, right?"
"Must come from money. If they can snag coupons, they've definitely got connections in Beijing."
"You think?"
"Plus, ever since they switched to absolute beauty tax, the criteria for issuing coupons loosened up. They're even talking about scrapping the coupon system altogether and switching to silver."
"That'd just make the Huizhou merchants even stronger. Isn't it common knowledge that they already outmuscle the Shanxi merchants in raw wealth?"
"It's just speculation. Those families have so much hidden away, who knows until they actually clash."
"It's like the immortal realm."
"Two clans who've ascended to the heights of wealth through money alone. Us officials just wipe the immortals' asses and snatch up whatever crumbs fall."
The low-ranking official, a veteran of the salt office, gazed at Hu Jin-yang with admiration.
Most officials were arrogant, always itching to butt heads with merchants. It made sense—scholars and merchants sat at opposite ends of the Four Occupations hierarchy.
The Salt Transport Historian was a rank 3 noble official, high enough that he could refuse to even share a table with merchants. Indeed, many officials assigned to Huaiyin had tried to strong-arm the Huizhou merchants at first—and without fail, they were sacked or reassigned within half a year.
But Hu Jin-yang was different. He'd known the Huizhou merchants from the start and bent over backward to accommodate them. As a result, he'd held his post for a full three years.
If it were just longevity, it wouldn't earn such respect. Hu Jin-yang had sweet-talked the Huizhou merchants into slipping pocket money to the office staff, letting everyone live more lavishly than ever before.
"The Chief Salt Merchant has arrived."
Someone announced a visitor.
The guest barged in without waiting for permission. A middle-aged man with droopy eyes, protruding lips, and a goatee that defined his look.
The office staff pretended not to notice, while Hu Jin-yang jumped to his feet to greet him.
"Lord Sun. You've graced us."
"Lord? Every time the Salt Transport Historian calls me that, my heart skips a beat."
"Haha. A man who's done so much for the empire's economy—how could I not address you as lord?"
Sun Yong-ui, the Chief Salt Merchant of Huizhou, smiled contentedly despite his humble words.
He might downplay it, but the Chief Salt Merchant was no one the Salt Transport Office could trifle with. As the head of Huizhou's salt traders, he controlled salt prices across the region—a commoner with immense power.
"So, what brings the busy Chief Salt Merchant all the way to the Salt Transport Office?"
"Haha. You already have a pretty good idea, don't you?"
"Haha."
Hu Jin-yang chuckled awkwardly. Naturally—their positions forced them to cross paths often, and after so long, they could read each other like a book.
"Indeed. Word came that some Hwi-yeong Merchant Group wants to exchange coupons at Huaiyin's depot."
"Haha. Never heard of them. At first, I thought they were Shanxi merchants' pawns."
"Turns out they're a new group from Wuhu."
"Wuhu? Closest depot is here, sure. But a little detour gets you to Shandong's Shuguang depot, which is huge."
"Don't misunderstand. We were just as shocked to get the coupons."
"As if I'd doubt the Salt Transport Office. I know better."
Sun Yong-ui stroked his goatee with a smile. Hu Jin-yang flinched slightly—that gesture meant displeasure.
But on second thought, it was aimed at the Hwi-yeong Merchant Group, not the office. Hu Jin-yang sighed inwardly, already pitying the naive young caravan master.
Who was Sun Yong-ui? The "Huizhou Lion Dog," famed for repelling every attack from rival merchants.
He was hypersensitive about Huizhou territory, baring his teeth at any outsider who sniffed around. The "Lion Dog" nickname came more from his looks than anything.
"I looked into it—the Hwi-yeong caravan master is apparently very young. Probably didn't realize it's our turf and made a mistake..."
"Teaching him the consequences is a senior merchant's duty, right? Haha."
Hu Jin-yang tried mentioning pity for the kid, but Sun Yong-ui already looked set on crushing them.
There was nothing the office could do. It was merchants' business. All he could do was wish the Hwi-yeong master good fortune in the afterlife.
"Lord Hu. Another visitor."
As Hu Jin-yang and Sun Yong-ui talked, the earlier announcer returned.
Hu Jin-yang scowled pointedly for Sun Yong-ui's benefit.
"Can't you see we're with an important guest?"
"Ah, but it's the one you showed interest in last time..."
"Who?"
"The Hwi-yeong Merchant Group's caravan master."
Sun Yong-ui and Hu Jin-yang's eyes met. Sun Yong-ui blinked, then grinned.
"Perfect. I've been curious."
Hu Jin-yang closed his eyes. He could already picture the naive kid getting dismantled.
***
I glanced back. Ten from the Hwi-yeong Merchant Group, including servants and the accountant. Four Wudang warriors. Myself included—fifteen in the caravan.
Of course, excluding Myeong-yeop, the others—Myeong-gyeong, Myeong-seong, Myeong-jin—were my direct seniors, so it was debatable if they counted as proper escorts.
Still, seeing my excited seniors gawking at everything, who cared? I smiled warmly, but Myeong-yeop riding beside me didn't look pleased.
"Senior Brother. Something bothering you?"
Myeong-yeop's mouth opened and closed repeatedly. He seemed hesitant.
"Come on, spit it out."
"Well. We're just escorts, and you're the boss of this caravan, so I don't want to interfere..."
I prodded, and he finally spoke.
"But...?"
"Even if I know nothing about the merchant world, I know Huaiyin's salt depot is locked down by the Huizhou merchants."
"Ah."
I laughed. I felt eyes from the caravan crew behind us. They must've had the same doubts as Myeong-yeop.
Even martial artists avoided other clans' turf unless necessary—stir up trouble, and you'd clash with the locals. Territory mattered to them too.
"Worried we'll get stomped by the Huizhou merchants?"
"Not cool to put it so bluntly."
Myeong-yeop licked his lips awkwardly.
"It's fine. I've thought it through."
"Yeah? You know best. Shouldn't have said anything."
"No, it's a fair question."
"Mind sharing your thinking?"
"Well, even if Huaiyin is Huizhou merchants' turf, the Salt Transport Office isn't just for them. It's a government office—open to everyone."
"True, but..."
My answer was too textbook; his reaction was lukewarm. I switched to Central Plains martial talk to suit him.
"Senior Brother. What do you do when you become the world's best?"
"Hone your martial arts."
"After you've mastered them?"
"Beat the world's best."
"Exactly. To become number one, you beat number one."
"Ah."
Myeong-yeop exclaimed in realization, but his face darkened further.
"Forgot. You're that crazy guy."
"What a harsh thing to say."
By the time our banter ended, we'd entered Huaiyin. The air felt different the moment we did.
"Silk for sale, silk! Top-quality from the West!"
"Kids go home! Try this tonic—your wife won't sleep a wink tonight!"
"Thief!"
From quack doctors to merchants everywhere—the crowded streets were a whirlwind that dazed my seniors. People tripping over each other led to arguments, pickpockets ran rampant—a total madhouse.
"Whoa, dizzying."
"Wanna try that? Chicken skewers, they say."
"Not chicken. Pigeon."
"What? Fraud!"
"Buyer's the fool."
The pigeon vendor must've overheard—he glared daggers. Not wanting a scene in front of my seniors, I whistled innocently.
I didn't hate the bustle. You had to love it to be a merchant.
"Caravan Master!"
Walking the streets, our advance scout—the accountant—came running from ahead. I'd sent him early to book lodging and scout eateries.
"Ah, accountant. Where's the inn?"
"Heh. Close to the depot, and spacious."
"Nice."
Spacious was probably a stretch—budget wasn't huge. What mattered was proximity to the depot. Salt merchants would flock there. Better collide early.
"I've got procedures at the Salt Transport Office, so seniors, take the crew to the inn first."
"Not together?"
"Yeah. Better I go alone."
Myeong-yeop took them without argument. The younger ones like Myeong-gyeong looked eager to tag along but followed anyway.
Alone, I headed straight for the Salt Transport Office. I'd frequented it in my past life—could find it blindfolded.
"Who're you?"
I gave the gate guard my group's name. They'd let me in.
The office would be dying to see the caravan master who'd waltzed into the Huizhou tiger's jaws. Sure enough, I was ushered inside.
A middle-aged man who looked like the boss, and another familiar face.
"You the Hwi-yeong caravan master?"
The boss asked. I smiled.
"Yes. Nice to meet you, Salt Transport Historian."
"Hu Jin-yang."
"Lord Hu. Got it."
"You seem sharp. Pity."
"Pardon?"
Before I could respond, the familiar man laughed. Hu Jin-yang introduced him.
"Lord Sun Yong-ui, Huizhou's Chief Salt Merchant."
"Ah."
Now I remembered the face. I couldn't help smiling. I'd met a cutie pie puppy.