The Namgung Family Capitulates
"Negotiate? What negotiation?"
Namgung Jin looked as though he had aged decades in the span of a few months.
And little wonder. How exhausting must it have been, watching petty bureaucrats who could not even fill one of his fists swagger through every corner of his estate, drag him before something resembling a public hearing, and put him on display like a criminal? Physical hardship was one thing. Mental torment hollowed a man out in ways nothing else could.
In these past few months alone, Namgung Jin had nearly fallen into qi deviation more than once.
A dry, lifeless laugh slipped between his cracked lips.
"Is this not a matter to be settled according to the law? Our family broke the statutes; we pay a crushing fine as punishment, and that is the end of it. Nothing more. A deep-rooted tree does not topple in a passing breeze. To the Namgung Family, this investigation is merely… a breeze that will pass." He ground his teeth on the last words.
Passing breeze? Your waist is about to snap clean in two.
Even a rotting fish could still put on airs, and Namgung Jin was doing exactly that. Hwiyeom watched him with a quiet, almost pitying gaze.
Running an enterprise and remaining a hundred percent clean was nearly impossible. And even those who truly were clean could be roasted alive by an audit like this until they were half-mad. This was not a twenty-first-century democracy either. This was a sixteenth-century imperial state, and the audit had been launched by the Emperor’s direct command.
If the Inquisitors of Europe from the same era could have toured the scene, they would have gasped in admiration: Oh my—so this is how they hunt witches in the East!
The back taxes alone would exceed several years of the family’s operating budget. Vast tracts of farmland would be stripped away as well. The Namgung Family’s raw martial strength might remain intact, but its economic power and its influence over local society would take a catastrophic blow. By Hwiyeom’s rough calculation, recovering from this audit would take at least a decade.
Hwiyeom regarded Namgung Jin calmly and spoke.
"Young Family Head, I do not know whether you are aware, but I hold the post of Lecturer-Academician of the Hanlin Academy."
"…?"
Namgung Jin’s glare said everything: What does you being a bureaucrat have to do with my house being torn apart? Are you rubbing it in that you ratted us out? Then Hwiyeom’s next words made his jaw drop.
"A Lecturer-Academician is charged with delivering lectures to His Majesty on various subjects. And His Majesty has commanded me to lecture him on the disposition of the twelve Great Gyeong Code violations uncovered against the Namgung Family—including the tax evasion."
In plain terms: Hey, you’re one of the Nine Great Families too, right? This is tangled up with the murim, so I can’t just hand down a verdict. What do you think? The Emperor was asking for his opinion.
In other words: I hold your path to survival in my hand.
Hwiyeom had already coordinated everything with the Emperor behind the scenes before ever stirring the pot, yet he delivered the lie with perfect, wide-eyed innocence. Namgung Jin had no choice but to believe him. When a man is driven into a corner and hope is suddenly dangled before his eyes, his vision narrows.
"…What do you want?"
"Stop obstructing our family’s enterprises. From the beginning, the construction of the Second State-run Ironworks was not merely our project—it was a national undertaking carried out by His Majesty’s command. The moment you trusted in the principle of non-interference between officials and murim, trusted in the high ministers you had bribed, and dared to stand in its way, this outcome was already sealed."
"…"
No. Even an emperor could not control the vast Central Plains so completely. That was precisely why local administrators existed. In a world without advanced communications, it was impossible to run everything on reports to the center; a degree of local autonomy was inevitable. In exchange, officials were allowed a certain amount of corruption and self-enrichment—so long as they did not go too far.
Interfering in a state project was a mistake? From ancient times, the greediest officials had always skimmed the greatest profits precisely from state projects. That was an undeniable truth. So why was this one different?
Namgung Jin stared at Hwiyeom with hollow eyes.
"Stop obstructing… Heh-heh. In this situation? It will happen of its own accord without anyone telling us…"
"Choosing to stop of one’s own will is different from being forced to stop. Once this storm passes, the Namgung Family will marshal every remaining resource and continue its sabotage, will it not?"
"…"
Seeing Namgung Jin press his lips tight, Hwiyeom allowed himself a private smirk. Real business was nothing like the Olympics, where everyone competed under clean rules and the loser gracefully accepted defeat. Losers always had ways of tripping the winner. The methods would simply grow quieter and more careful. Hwiyeom had fully expected the Namgung Family to seek revenge. That was why this negotiation mattered all the more.
He had beaten them thoroughly. Now it was time to apply the salve.
"Let us end this cleanly, without lingering grudges. I will say it again here: we did not harm any direct bloodline of the Namgung Family."
Namgung Jin’s face hardened like stone. He ground his teeth.
"Of course you would say that."
"Young Family Head of Namgung, think carefully. If we had used such a method, we would already be mortal enemies who cannot share the same sky. Would we really stop at this level and extend a hand first against an opponent we had driven into a corner—especially when we hold every advantage?"
"That is…"
"If it were me, I would not rest. I would keep pressing until the Namgung Family truly plummeted into the abyss. That is the situation we are in. Yet here I am, offering a hand of rescue and asking for reconciliation."
"…"
"Not for the Namgung Family’s sake, but to prevent a schism within the orthodox murim. This whole affair reeks of something foul. So let us stop fighting among ourselves. There are people out there who want exactly that—working in the shadows."
Hwiyeom’s words hung together. Namgung Jin wavered, just a little. Hwiyeom sighed.
"It may be hard to accept right now… but think rationally. Our family has no reason whatsoever to have done such a thing."
"…I understand, for now."
Whether the claim was true or false, Namgung Jin knew the Namgung Family was in no position to defy the Dang Family. His manner softened a fraction as he nodded. Watching him, Hwiyeom continued.
"I will do everything in my power to mitigate the fines and other penalties the Namgung Family must face. We are both of the Nine Great Families of the murim. Is there any real joy in seeing the Namgung Family shattered? The moment the Emperor’s favor fades, our family could easily be next."
"That… is true enough."
"Furthermore, I have devised a policy that should help preserve the Namgung Family’s interests."
"Preserve our interests? What are you talking about?"
"Why did this whole mess begin in the first place? Because the Namgung Family and ours came into conflict. And the spark for that conflict was the shrinking profits of the Anhui grain merchants under Namgung protection."
"…I will not deny it."
Ordinarily he would have slammed an iron plate over his face and shouted that the great Namgung Family would never stoop to such petty acts. But after being hauled through audits and roasted until he reeked of scorched pride, Namgung Jin no longer had the energy left for face-saving.
The Sichuan Dang Family’s massive improvements in agricultural productivity had caused the already fertile Sichuan province to explode in grain output. When the Dang Family began trading that surplus into Yunnan and Guizhou, trouble followed. Unlike self-sufficient Sichuan, Yunnan and Guizhou had long depended on Anhui grain merchants. The long transport distances and lack of alternatives had allowed those merchants to gouge outrageous profits. The Dang Family had snatched that entire market away. The resulting losses and the grumbling of collateral landlords had driven the Namgung Family to throw every possible wrench into Dang projects.
"There is a way to protect those grain merchants’ profits."
"And what is that? Demand does not simply fall from the sky."
"Who says only the people of Great Gyeong eat rice? Beyond the borders His Majesty rules, there are those who hunger for grain as well."
"Surely you don’t mean…"
"The Chagatai Khanate—and the Western Regions."
Namgung Jin stared at Hwiyeom with naked incredulity that screamed, Has this bastard lost his mind? The look was so blatant that Hwiyeom cleared his throat.
"Ahem. I have already obtained His Majesty’s approval. Kindly stop looking at me like that."
"His Majesty has sanctioned this?"
"Would I spout nonsense in front of the Young Family Head without prior coordination?"
"…My apologies."
If the Emperor had given his blessing, the conversation changed entirely.
"To explain in detail…"
Namgung Jin had briefly lost his reason at the mad idea of selling military grain to an enemy state. Only after hearing Hwiyeom’s full explanation did understanding dawn on his face.
"…Give them grain and make them dependent. Yes. That is correct. Our family has used the same method."
"Is that so?"
"Of course. Yunnan was once a granary nearly as productive as Sichuan. Yet they devote themselves to growing expensive tea and buy all their grain from us. Creating that structure took generations of effort by our ancestors."
"Ah."
In short, Yunnan’s bizarre agricultural system—where the entire province had abandoned self-sufficiency to chase high-value cash crops—was the Namgung Family’s handiwork. Thanks to that, Namgung Jin quickly grasped the design shared by Hwiyeom and Emperor Sungui.
"Then our two families will no longer need to fight over grain profits. Opening a new market solves the problem. Had we known this from the start, we would never have wasted energy on a pointless struggle…"
"Well, I do not know how this will sound coming from me in the present situation… but if things had not reached this point, the discussion itself would never have happened. So do not be too dejected."
Even for an open-minded young emperor like Sungui, a casual proposal of “Let’s sell grain to the enemy!” under normal circumstances would almost certainly have been ignored. But this incident had dragged the domestic grain-merchant market war into the open. From the Emperor’s perspective, it was better to open foreign markets than to watch merchants brawl over rice bowls at home or leave grain rotting in warehouses.
In the end, the Namgung Family had taken the spearhead and other provincial grain merchants would enjoy a free ride—but Hwiyeom kept that part to himself. He wanted the benefit to look like a handshake of reconciliation offered solely for the Namgung Family’s sake.
"Then… the Anhui grain…"
"Beyond Yunnan and Guizhou, the Anhui merchants already sell grain to Beijing, Shandong, and many other places, do they not? Whatever remains after those sales, the Imperial Household will purchase. A fixed portion will be stockpiled as military provisions or relief grain. Any surplus beyond that will be sold to Chagatai through our family."
Discomfort flickered across Namgung Jin’s face.
"Why the Dang Family again?"
"Is there another family as close to Chagatai as ours?"
"…"
"It is a nuisance for us as well. Selling old rice to those horse-riding barbarians will create endless friction. We are not doing it for the paltry brokerage fees. In the end, we endure the hassle for the Namgung Family’s sake; in return, we ask that you forget your grudge against us. We are both of the Nine Great Families. Mutual hostility leaves nothing but loss."
"Those are rich words coming from the man who dragged Shaolin into this…"
"I brought in Shaolin because the Namgung Family was hostile to us and I needed a mediator. Had we gone at each other directly, blood would already have been spilled between us."
"…"
"Moreover, I never expected you would then drag the Wudang Sect into it as well."
"…Enough. I accept the deal."
"A wise decision."
In the end, Namgung Jin lowered his head without scoring a single point against Hwiyeom.
The greatest martial family under heaven, the Namgung Family, had tucked its tail without ever truly fighting the Sichuan Dang Family it had once dismissed. The outcome spoke volumes to everyone in the murim—and it was an outcome no one had predicted. Not even “them.”
In a darkened chamber somewhere in the Central Plains, figures of every description sat with sour expressions, murmuring among themselves.
"We poisoned a direct bloodline of the Namgung Family, yet it never escalated into open war. Unbelievable."
"Perhaps the effort to make it look like the Dang Family’s doing was insufficient."
"No. That level was the proper line. Anything more would have been too blatant and invited suspicion."
"So you claim it is not your fault? Laughable."
"And what of your side? The attempt to kill a Dang bloodline with Namgung sword arts failed completely, did it not? Those Dang dogs are more sensitive to the death of kin than anyone. A corpse of a Dang clansman cut down by the Heavenly Void Sword Art should have been more than enough to light the fuse of war. That, if anything, proves your incompetence."
"Damn it, how many times must I say it? Sichuan is crawling with eyes! Those cursed restaurants and delivery runners were bad enough—now the coachmen race through the streets day and night with their eyes bloodshot, never stopping!"
"Ha! Unable even to evade a coachman’s gaze—are you not simply confessing your own incompetence?"
"What was that?! Black Kill! Have you finished talking?!"
Voices rose higher and higher. Then the figure seated quietly at the head of the table finally spoke.
"…"
"…"
"…"
As if by magic, silence fell. A single word from the one at the head of the table shut every mouth in the room.
"We obey!"
On the surface the murim had regained its peace, yet behind closed doors crisis after crisis continued to gather.
And at last, free of the sandbag that had been the Namgung Family’s interference, construction of the Second State-run Ironworks surged forward like a river breaking its banks.