Don’t Worry! I’ll Make Sure You Win! (5)
Hwang Jong-ui couldn’t keep the disappointment off his face.
Is he saying even this won’t work?
As the head of the Eunha Merchant Guild, he knew better than anyone that his father, Hwang Mun-yak, was growing worse by the day. Until not long ago, he had still been conscious, but lately there had been more and more days when he never came to his senses at all.
And a person who was unconscious could not eat.
If this went on, it was only a matter of days before the old man’s breathing stopped for good.
In desperation, he had summoned famed physicians from all over the world and even appealed to the sects of the jianghu with whom he had old ties, but none of them had been able to produce an answer.
Still, today he had held out some hope when members of the Sichuan Tang Family, famous for possessing the greatest mastery of poison in the world, had come to visit. But the outcome was more than enough to disappoint him.
"It’s difficult."
As expected, the negative answer drew a faint sigh from Hwang Jong-ui.
"You mean even the Tang Family, the masters of poison, can’t heal my father?"
"Of course. Our Tang Family prides itself on being number one in the world when it comes to poison. There is no poison we cannot neutralize."
"And yet?"
"Your father’s illness is not caused by poison."
Hwang Jong-ui’s brow furrowed.
"You’re saying those symptoms aren’t poison?"
Tang Myung, an elder of the Tang Family, gave a small nod.
"The symptoms are similar, yes, but it is not poisoning. I believe the root cause is something fundamentally different."
"Hmm."
Hwang Jong-ui’s face could hardly have darkened any further, but it did.
Despite the Eunha Merchant Guild’s wealth, despite inviting famous physicians and offering immense rewards, no one had appeared who could cure Hwang Mun-yak.
"You’re certain it isn’t simply old age?"
"It does not appear natural."
"Then what in the world is this?"
At that, Tang Myung lowered his eyes slightly, as if troubled.
Seeing that expression, Hwang Jong-ui let out another sigh.
"I’m sorry. I know you’re not a physician, Elder, but I’m just too frustrated."
"I’m sorry I couldn’t be of help."
"No. Please forgive me for not seeing you out."
Tang Myung rose from his seat and left with a bitter look on his face.
"What am I supposed to do?"
Hwang Jong-ui buried his head in his hands.
His father’s condition worsened by the day, and what kind of torment must it be for a son who held wealth enough to buy anything, yet could do nothing at all?
What crime did Father commit to deserve this?
Hwang Mun-yak had spent his entire life giving to the poor. Hwang Jong-ui understood that heaven’s will did not always work according to simple notions of karma, but wasn’t this far too cruel?
To suffer from an illness of unknown origin for a full year and then die like this…
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
"May I come in?"
"Ah… yes. Elder."
The door opened and a man stepped inside. He had white hair and wore a spotless white robe that gave him a striking air.
"I just saw Elder Tang Myung leaving."
"That’s right."
"Young Guild Master. I hate repeating myself, but this is the time to admit it. The only way to save Lord Hwang is through Daoist teaching."
Hwang Jong-ui’s expression twisted slightly.
"I know what you’re saying, Elder. But I’m not ready to place my hopes in something like that yet."
"Young Guild Master. Did I not tell you already? Lord Hwang’s condition is the price of defying the flow. He gathered too much, twisted too much by force of will. If he puts it down now and turns his mind toward the Dao, Lord Hwang may yet recover."
Hwang Jong-ui turned and looked steadily at the man.
But the man went on as if that gaze didn’t trouble him in the least.
"It is not every day that the head of Mount Zhongnan himself performs a ritual on someone. Why can you not understand that Lord Hwang, after maintaining ties with the Eunha Merchant Guild for so long, has been granted such fortune? Time is short. Do not leave yourself with regrets."
"…I’ll wait a little longer."
"How futile."
The man clicked his tongue, sounding as though Hwang Jong-ui were doing something foolish.
Hwang Jong-ui bit lightly at his lower lip.
The reason he had to endure such rude words and treatment was simple: the man standing before him was Gi Mok-seung, an elder of Mount Zhongnan.
Mount Zhongnan had long been a renowned sect among the Gupailbang, but in recent years it had been surging upward with such force that its name had spread across the world. Some even said that while this generation might not see it, within a few generations it would surely seize the title of the Number One Sword Sect in the World.
Besides, Xi'an had always been a place where Mount Zhongnan’s influence ran deep. If an elder of that sect had come all the way here to offer his advice, there was no way Hwang Jong-ui, merely the young guild master and not even the head of the guild, could reject him coldly.
They’ll probably ask for another fortune in exchange for holding a ritual.
It wasn’t the money that mattered.
If it could save his father, he would not begrudge giving away everything he owned. But if these people were truly confident they could save Hwang Mun-yak through Daoist rites, they would have performed the ritual first and asked for payment after. They wouldn’t have demanded advance money.
All the instinct he had honed over a lifetime in trade told him exactly what they were after.
"We haven’t yet received all the replies from the letters sent out to every region. I’ll decide after I’ve heard from them."
"How maddening. Even the best physicians in every region could not cure him. How could these people do any better? Did you not just hear what the Tang Family said?"
Hwang Jong-ui’s brows twitched.
Gi Mok-seung was speaking as though he had overheard the entire conversation between Hwang Jong-ui and Tang Myung. Perhaps he didn’t even realize it himself, but wasn’t that essentially admitting he had been eavesdropping?
How shameless.
Hwang Jong-ui let out a deep breath.
Unfortunately, he didn’t have the strength to point it out. If Hwang Mun-yak were to die like this, the Eunha Merchant Guild would inevitably lose momentum. And if that happened, it would become necessary to maintain relations with Mount Zhongnan, whose influence in Xi'an was so great.
Perhaps even at enormous expense.
"Please give me a little more time. It’s not that I don’t trust Mount Zhongnan. It’s simply that, as a son, I want to try everything I can."
"There isn’t much time left. If Lord Hwang passes away, don’t forget that it will be the result of the young guild master’s futile stubbornness."
Hwang Jong-ui’s fist clenched beneath the table.
"I’ll keep that in mind."
That was when it happened.
"Young Guild Master!"
An urgent voice came from outside.
"What is it?"
"Mount Hua! Someone from Mount Hua has arrived."
"Did you say Mount Hua?"
"Yes! Mount Hua."
Hwang Jong-ui’s eyes trembled slightly.
Mount Hua was one of the places he had sent letters to as well. But because he had little reason to place great hope in Mount Hua, whose strength had already declined so badly, the letter to Mount Hua had been sent last of all.
By the timing, the letter had only just arrived, and they were already sending someone here?
Could it be…?
If they had not known anything about Hwang Mun-yak’s condition, they would surely have sent a letter rather than come in person.
Just as Hwang Jong-ui rose, newly kindling another thread of hope, an even colder voice rang out.
"Mount Hua?"
Faint irritation flickered in Gi Mok-seung’s eyes.
Just hearing the name Mount Hua made his expression stiffen noticeably. And then a rough voice followed.
"Those bankrupt remnants are trying to pull some stunt! And they dare show their faces here?"
Hwang Jong-ui bit his lip.
Of course Gi Mok-seung was speaking of Xi'an, but Hwang Jong-ui could only feel that the man was treating the Eunha Merchant Guild as though it were already Mount Zhongnan’s property.
"Young Guild Master. There is no need to meet with such people. What would Mount Hua know that could possibly cure Lord Hwang’s illness?"
Hwang Jong-ui’s face hardened.
"Even so, they came because we contacted them. Wouldn’t it be absurd to turn them away at the gate?"
"You must listen to me."
"Elder."
Hwang Jong-ui cut him off with no room for argument.
"This is the Eunha Merchant Guild. Please do not forget that it is not Mount Zhongnan."
"Hmph!"
Gi Mok-seung clearly couldn’t hide his displeasure, but Hwang Jong-ui ignored the reaction and rose to his feet. Then he quickly opened the door and went out.
One never knew.
The world’s best physicians had failed to cure his father, and the most famous sects had not been able to produce a solution. Then perhaps the answer might come from somewhere no one expected.
Once outside, Hwang Jong-ui looked around.
"Where are the people from Mount Hua?"
At his words, the attendant bent low and answered.
"They’re at the entrance."
"You left a guest who came from afar standing at the gate? No matter how overwhelmed you are, what sort of rudeness is that?"
Hwang Jong-ui’s voice rose sharply for a moment. But the attendant did not immediately apologize; instead she bit her lip and glanced toward the entrance with a troubled look.
"We were going to bring him in right away, but… the situation is so baffling that…"
"Move aside. I’ll greet him myself."
"Young Guild Master. It’s just…"
Hwang Jong-ui hardened his face and started walking. He didn’t like the servant’s hesitant manner at all.
Since when did the Eunha Merchant Guild divide guests according to status?
If his father had been conscious, he would have been furious on the spot.
A merchant had to lower himself to the lowest place. According to Lord Hwang’s principles, anyone who judged a customer by rank or wealth had no right to call themselves a merchant.
And yet these people, knowing full well that, because Mount Hua’s power had declined, they were committing the rudeness of leaving a visiting guest at the gate…
I need to clean up the guild again!
Firmly resolved, Hwang Jong-ui headed for the entrance.
Before long, he saw a small child standing there with one leg cocked casually to the side.
Hmm. Mount Hua robes.
The spotless white robe and the plum blossom pattern stitched across the chest. There was no doubt about it: a disciple of Mount Hua.
Looking at Qing Ming, Hwang Jong-ui spoke at once.
"Young Daoist. We’ve been rude to you."
Then the little Taoist brat tilted his head.
"No. Well. It happens."
"I am Hwang Jong-ui, the young guild master of the Eunha Merchant Guild. This is my failure for not properly teaching those beneath me, so please blame me."
"I said it’s fine. I didn’t come here to be treated like some great lord, you know."
Wasn’t that answer a little crooked?
Keeping his expression steady, Hwang Jong-ui continued.
"Thank you for your understanding. However, where are the rest of your party?"
"I came alone."
"Ah, I see. Your party… what?"
Hwang Jong-ui snapped his head up.
"What did you just say?"
"I said I came alone."
The young Taoist standing before him shrugged and grinned.
"I brought the method to cure Lord Hwang, so go on and show me the way. Ah, and before that, would it be all right if I checked out this so-called enormous reward you mentioned?"
"…"
Hwang Jong-ui’s eyes twitched violently.
What the hell was this bastard?
That was the moment Hwang Jong-ui of the Eunha Merchant Guild met Qing Ming, the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, for the first time.