The Night Visitor - 1
"Why exactly are you cutting off dinner?"
Lim Hayeon asked me with her eyes gone round as saucers, like a player who'd just read a sudden shutdown notice for the mobile game she'd been paying her monthly subscription to all year.
Dinner service discontinued. Sure, I could see how that would come as a shock.
She was the Shadowless Divine Thief, after all — a woman who had fled to Yichang without a single coin to her name.
I had worked long and hard to turn her into the kind of subordinate who could press the accept button on her boss's call with a smile even in the middle of her evening commute, and the free dinner had been a cornerstone of that strategy.
And it had worked. These days she handled her management duties without a single complaint, and the dinners may well have diluted the impression of me as the tyrannical branch manager Kang Yunho lurking in her heart.
Cutting off the one perk the arrangement had going for it — yes, that might seem like a strange thing to do. But I had a perfectly sound reason for ending her meal support.
It wasn't because I'd lost interest in the fish I'd caught.
It wasn't because she was now learning her management duties so splendidly alongside the other employees.
And it wasn't because I wanted to turn a blind eye to her desperate circumstances any longer.
The real reason I was ending her dinner support was—
"It's payday, isn't it."
You're getting paid now. Buy your own dinner.
The Shadowless Divine Thief, who fled to Yichang penniless, meets an angel of a shopkeeper and is fed dinner every night. A heartwarming tale so wholesome she ought to have sent in an anonymous tip to the Yichang Gazette herself.
A pity the story never made it to print — but no further good deeds were necessary.
"I know that, but…"
"You didn't exactly mind receiving a free dinner all this time."
She'd refused the dinner at first, and then, before long, started hiding the serving dish in the cupboard whenever anyone might see it. Now that she was used to it, cutting her off felt like a loss, did it?
"That's—!"
Lim Hayeon had no real rebuttal since I wasn't wrong, but she still furrowed her brow and shot back as if something were bothering her.
"And you complained about the food, too."
"That's because you brought kimchi mandu every single day!"
What's wrong with kimchi mandu?
This is why you can't trust the Central Plains crowd. They have no idea how grateful a single bachelor ought to be for kimchi mandu.
It's perfect for when your stomach's growling but nothing sounds appetizing, and it's the ideal drinking snack for that beer you're craving after work.
Just as cola is essential for surviving a zombie apocalypse, kimchi mandu is one of the top three foods I'd confidently recommend keeping stocked in a bachelor's freezer.
"Then what would you have me do?"
I shrugged at Lim Hayeon, who was still wearing a vaguely dissatisfied expression.
If she wanted it, I was willing to keep providing meals. But only if she asked for it with her own mouth.
Then again — could Lim Hayeon ever bring herself to ask me for anything?
"That's…!"
She opened her mouth as if to say something, then quickly lowered her head.
For Lim Hayeon to make a request of me meant that I had become someone from whom she could expect goodwill. Someone she could actually rely on.
She had refused my help every single time before. Had her image of me finally improved to the point where she'd seek my help directly?
I was rather curious myself.
Unable to find her bearings, she kept opening and closing her lips without managing to look me in the eye.
"Branch Manager! Everyone's gathered downstairs!"
Unfortunately, the employees assembling beat whatever she'd been about to say.
"Let's go down together."
Leaving behind a wistful-looking Lim Hayeon, I headed down to the first floor.
"The Branch Manager's here. Line up, quickly!"
"Thank you all for your hard work this past month."
I gazed out over the employees gathered on the first floor with a relaxed expression.
Perhaps it was because it was payday, but though they all looked exhausted, their eyes were bright with expectation as they stared at me.
My reason for summoning the staff on payday was nothing special. I simply wanted to make it unmistakably clear who was handing them their money, and to get them working for Daseogak with a little more loyalty.
Back in my old world, that would have been an absurd notion. Wages are, by any ordinary standard, compensation for labor. I wasn't being given money by a boss out of charity — I was earning it by working. Why on earth would that demand loyalty?
At any normal workplace, that thinking would be entirely fair.
But Daseogak was different.
"These are the work-study scholarships from Daseogak. Please collect them in order."
What I was handing out wasn't wages — it was a scholarship.
The money I gave was equivalent to what a porter would earn in a month, carrying loads on his back until his shoulders and spine buckled under the pain.
Not one employee here would think of today's money as wages fairly earned in exchange for labor.
"Thank you!"
"I… I mean it! Is it really all right for me to receive this much?"
"Branch Manager Kang! Thank you! Thank you so very much!"
Everyone gazed at their pay with tears in their eyes, or bowed to me again and again in gratitude.
Back before I'd made my living as a street storyteller, if I'd met a woman who paid wages like these, I'm fairly sure I'd have fallen for her — even if she were sixty years old with no romantic experience, smelling faintly of chicken breast from her hometown fields.
"It's been a busy stretch with the release of Storm and Clouds of the Tang Clan, and everyone's worked hard. Let's give it our all next month as well!"
"I'll bury my bones at Daseogak! Thank you!"
"We'll work hard!"
These were employees poor enough to skip meals now and then. Whether I hired them or let them go was entirely at my discretion.
They understood better than anyone that if they wanted a paycheck next month too, they'd have to work for it.
"Shall we have a drink tonight?"
"On a day like this? Get home early, man!"
"My wife's going to strip my pay purse bare the moment I walk in anyway — might as well grease the stomach before that happens!"
"Ha! Good thinking. Have yourself a nice drink before you go!"
After seeing my cheerful employees off, I turned to look at Lim Hayeon, who was standing off in a corner with her mouth protruding like a duck's bill.
And she hadn't even come to collect her pay earlier. Lim Hayeon met my eyes, gave a tiny derisive snort, and promptly turned her head away. So the dinner cut-off really had been quite a shock to her.
I approached and held out her pay.
"With today's wages, you can now buy whatever dinner you like."
"…"
Lim Hayeon jutted her lips in a pout, made no move to take the money, and just kept looking up at me.
"Miss?"
"Hmph! Fine! I'll buy my own food!"
Lim Hayeon snatched her pay as if giving up on me entirely, then swept out of Daseogak in one fluid motion.
That's right. When it comes to clocking out, you should always move like the Shadowless Divine Thief.
"Whew. I suppose I'll have to go a bit easy on her for a while."
I murmured softly to myself as I closed the door behind her.
I understood her complaint.
Yes, I'd lured her in with the promise of being a top work-study scholarship student, but management work carried a heavier load than anyone else's. I dragged her into every single task that came up, so she might well feel that cutting dinner was going one step too far.
But if it bothered her, she should have just said so.
For now, I'd need to redistribute some of her duties among the others before her dissatisfaction gauge filled up any further.
"Heading out on business?"
A few days after payday, Lim Hayeon stopped me as I was preparing to leave.
"I need to go out for tea leaves."
"All by yourself?"
Selecting tea leaves was her area of expertise, after all. But no, I wasn't going with you today.
"I'm going with Miss Ha Soso today."
"With Soso? Why?"
Lim Hayeon asked, eyes wide with astonishment.
"Her family runs a teahouse, it seems, and she knows plenty of cheap, quality tea leaves. I'll be going with Miss Ha Soso today."
"Hehe. Sis, I'm off!"
"Come back safely."
Come to think of it, the voice with which Lim Hayeon saw us off was thick with unease.
"That lunchbox in the pantry — is it yours, Branch Manager?"
The day after my outing with Ha Soso, Lim Hayeon caught sight of the lunchbox in the pantry and asked me, an odd excitement brimming beneath her question.
"It's Miss Ha Soso's."
"…What?"
"Hehe. Well, you see, Sis…"
Ha Soso trailed off, her voice tinged with embarrassment.
"I happened to hear yesterday about the little sisters of Miss Ha Soso, who's been skipping meals at home. Given how hard she worked on the tea leaf errand, I bought her some food."
"Oh. So it's just for today, then."
Ha Soso spoke to Lim Hayeon like someone with some guilty conscience about it. But since I was the one buying, she had no reason to feel self-conscious.
"If you'd like, whenever I think of it, I could…"
"No! No! There's really no need for that!"
Ha Soso waved both hands frantically at me, then turned to look at Lim Hayeon.
Had word gotten around that I wasn't feeding Lim Hayeon? Fair enough, I suppose — if I wasn't providing her meals, feeding other employees would look inconsistent.
"…Buy her whatever you want. It's none of my business."
Lim Hayeon watched the two of us, narrowed her eyes, delivered that one line, and whirled away without another word.
"Branch Manager. Did you have a fight with Hayeon unni?"
"Hm? What do you mean?"
"Hayeon unni — lately, whenever something upsets her, she's been radiating this freezing cold aura."
Lim Hayeon looked upset? I glanced over at her tending to a customer at the second-floor counter.
"Miss Hayeon. You're looking especially beautiful today."
"There are people waiting behind you. Please place your order."
"Gah! Wh-why do I suddenly feel a chill!"
"She seems exactly the same as always to me."
Truly, it was the same old Lim Hayeon.
"No, no. Hayeon unni. She's always treated the Branch Manager like ice — you know, like he can hide nothing from her — but she's always been warm and friendly to the customers. And lately she's been strangely cold to me, too."
"Something must be going on."
She looked perfectly normal to me, so I couldn't guess.
"Branch Manager, the way I see it, she's clearly misunderstood something."
Ha Soso murmured, looking crestfallen.
"Misunderstood what, exactly?"
Ha Soso propped her arms on her hips, let out a small sigh, and opened her mouth to offer me some advice.
"Haah. Branch Manager, I get what's going on here. But Hayeon unni has never been through anything like this before. Even if it looks like you're just giving her a little push, she could end up completely crushed. So push her — but gently — and then pull her back in nicely afterward. You understand, right?"
Soso, my dear — you're the one who's got this all wrong.
"What is wrong with that man!"
Lim Hayeon shouted, kicking a small pebble down a deserted alley.
He changed his attitude out of nowhere. It made no sense.
Was it because she'd refused the dinner he'd given out of goodwill? Or because she'd nitpicked the food, as he'd said? Even so, serving kimchi mandu every day for a week had been too much!
Or was it because she'd muttered about predatory sales tactics while he was hawking the Main Wife Sets on the second floor? Because she'd complained that he took only her along on every single client visit?
Or — was it because he hadn't been able to help her much with her runaway courtesan status, even though it involved the Haomen?
"There are… far too many possibilities."
Lim Hayeon murmured under her breath, shoulders slumping.
She stared at her own reflection in a puddle pooled in the alleyway. Ha Soso had the charm of a little sister, certainly, but she was in no way a beauty on Lim Hayeon's own level.
How could he fall head over heels just because Soso fawned over him so sweetly? He'd clearly been so taken with her, and then flipped his attitude in an instant.
Lim Hayeon knew the truth all too well. Even a woman with beauty that could captivate every man alive might not hold the highest seat in the world of courtesans.
She knew that sometimes a courtesan with slightly lesser looks, but a warm and coaxing manner that opened a client's heart, could end up supporting an entire house of her peers.
Right. Kang Yunho was a man too. He might have been unmoved by the famed beauties of the Yichang courtesan quarter, but he could have melted before a woman with a manner like a spring day.
But why? Why, no matter how she turned it over? Why would his attitude change in a single moment?
"He's not even my patron. Whether his heart wanders or not, what business is it of mine?"
Lim Hayeon muttered, deliberately making it out to be none of her concern.
A man who seemed within reach of winning her heart yet kept it maddeningly just out of grasp; who listened to everything you had to say; who empathized; who left openings that seemed about to yield and never quite did, keeping you burning with anticipation; who would indulge even your pettiest whims with a smile.
If men like that were easy to find, every courtesan in the city would have earned her pure-courtesan rank by now.
"Whoever he likes, it doesn't concern me."
It's fine. It doesn't matter. Who he fancies is none of my business. But no matter how many times Lim Hayeon repeated it to herself, the face reflected in the standing water looked anything but fine.
She stepped on the puddle with the tip of her shoe for no particular reason. The rippling reflection somehow looked exactly like her heart in that moment, and her chest seethed at the sight.
Unable to settle her tangled feelings, she kicked the stone again with all her might.
"A rock through a window! Who the hell throws a rock at—!"
"Eek! I'm so sorry!"
"There you are."
Lim Hayeon visited the Haomen branch after work, on business relating to a courier letter.
"Is something the matter? You look grim."
She spoke to the branch chief, who sat at his desk staring at a sealed letter with a dark expression.
"I've heard from the Wuhan branch."
Chengdu was the capital of Hubei Province — but so was Wuhan, the seat of the provincial administration, and it was there that the head office overseeing all of Hubei's Haomen operated.
"Really? What are they going to do about the Wushan branch?"
The Haomen's Wushan branch had been attacked by the wicked factions. The courtesan network, the businesses under their protection — even the Gyobang where she herself had lived had come under assault.
What would the Haomen do? Send martial artists? Or simply give up?
If this service is recognized, they might even erase my courtesan registry.
Lim Hayeon's courtesan registry — her certificate of indenture. As long as the name Lim Hayeon written on it remained, she would forever be a runaway courtesan.
If the Haomen dispatched fighters in response to the attack, perhaps she could win her freedom from the registry as the reward for sounding the alarm. Clutching that small thread of hope, Lim Hayeon asked the branch chief.
But the words that left his mouth were every bit as dark as his face.
"They want us to hunt down and hand over the runaway courtesan Lim Hayeon."