Neither Flies Nor Cries (2)
With empty bowls set before them, the three of them talked on. Jinmyung listened to Ak Jun's account in a faintly drowsy haze.
Ak Jun and Beom Myohong had made a full circuit of Sichuan Province. Childless, they had played the part of a couple praying for a pregnancy.
They had offered incense before the Buddha statues of the Emei Sect, received talismans from Qingcheng Mountain of the Qingcheng Sect, and, while inside each school, confirmed the presence of the Geumjatap — the Golden Pagodas.
Jinmyung turned an iron coin over and over in his palm. Sensing that his lord had sunk deep into thought, Ak Jun rose and brewed tea.
Watching that old, familiar habit, Ak Jun felt a swell of emotion. Where once Jinmyung's hands had been full of coin, now there was only a single iron cash — and yet the sight of it told him that the broken, vacant man he had known had truly risen to his feet again.
"Jun-rang, are you crying?"
"Wh-who said I was crying?"
"But your eyes are all glassy."
At Myohong's exchange with Ak Jun, Jinmyung snorted and glanced over. Ak Jun lifted his teacup to hide his face.
"Ah — hot!"
"Well, of course. You drank it before it cooled."
Jinmyung, too, blew across his cup and raised it. It was a low-grade tea, little better than plain water.
Knowing Grandfather's nature… there has to be money in the Golden Pagodas…
Among the countless merchants of the martial world, Dan Jun had been called the Merchant King. Some even claimed the new dynasty had won its war because Dan Jun had thrown his support behind it.
Victory in battle was decided by a soldier's skill and a general's tactics. But neither a winning army nor a losing one could fight on an empty stomach.
Dan Jun had supplied grain to the new dynasty's forces at every critical point. People marveled at the uncanny gift that let him move freely between battlefields, and they wondered how he did it.
Dan Jun had called that gift a trade secret and never revealed it. But Jinmyung knew the reason.
Arts that moved the world by will and qi alone. The warehouses of the Donghwa Merchant Group had been concealed by formations.
Of course Dan Jun had not been the only man skilled in formations. But he had been far more famous for his peerless negotiation than for his arrays.
The only man who could pass between both sides of a war. A man welcomed by every faction. That was Dan Jun — and the title of Merchant King had not been undeserved.
Dan Jun had often used formations simply to play with young Jinmyung. As a child, Jinmyung had thought of them as nothing more than riddles; only later, in the archives of the Martial Alliance, had he learned they were true formation arts.
"What are you fretting over so hard? Can't we simply go to the Golden Pagodas?"
"When I saw Shaolin's Golden Pagoda… it looked as though Grandfather had laid a formation over it. If we trigger the array without warning, wouldn't that be disastrous?"
"True enough. And if our identities were exposed in the process, that would be worse still…"
"Why would revealing our identities be so terrible, Jun-rang?"
Myohong turned to Ak Jun with the question. Ak Jun looked to Jinmyung, and Jinmyung gave a small nod.
"The reason the Hwangbo Clan holds Shandong Province is, in the end, because of Lady Jihyun. Their pretext is that they are protecting the heir of the Donghwa Merchant Group. If that pretext becomes unclear…"
"Lady Jihyun could be put in danger."
"Exactly. So we move while keeping our identities hidden."
Jinmyung began turning the iron coin in his fingers once more.
It was not until the Hour of the Pig, when a bright full moon hung high in the sky, that Jinmyung finished arranging his thoughts. Looking around, he found that Myohong had already retired to her room.
Ak Jun sat alone over a go board, keeping watch at Jinmyung's side. At a glance, Jinmyung saw he was working through a life-and-death problem.
"Have you settled on a plan?"
"There's a problem right in front of me and I haven't got the stones to play it. What good is a plan that only lives in my head?"
"So you do have a plan, then."
"For now?"
Jinmyung drank what remained in his cup. The thin tea had gone cold, and he disliked it — but he was no longer in a position to be particular about such things.
"The Tang Clan rules Sichuan not because their hands are so ruthless, and not because Qingcheng and Emei fall short of them in martial skill."
Ak Jun frowned, puzzled by what came next. There was no Golden Pagoda among the Tang Clan.
"It's because the Tang Clan of Sichuan stands closer to the common people than the Buddhist school of Emei or the Daoist school of Qingcheng. When something unjust happens, you'd rather run next door than climb a mountain, wouldn't you?"
"I see. But what does any of this have to do with having no stones — or with the Golden Pagodas?"
Ak Jun asked as he set a stone down to solve the problem. The moment his black stone landed, Jinmyung answered with a white one.
"The reason Sichuan remains peaceful even with three great orthodox sects gathered in one province is that the Tang Clan, under the name of patronage, shares its own profits with Qingcheng and Emei."
"So you mean to intercept the Tang Clan's patronage?"
"Intercept?"
Jinmyung stared at Ak Jun in genuine surprise. Ak Jun stared back, equally startled.
"If you haven't got enough money to match the Tang Clan's patronage, aren't you planning to swipe some of it and slip it into Qingcheng and Emei instead? You may not have coin, but you do have Inki-jeongong."
"Hey. We may be broke — but are we without dignity? Let's not do the kind of thing thugs do. I'm still a merchant."
"Well… fine words. But a merchant with nothing to sell and no money to buy is just a beggar, isn't he?"
Click. Ak Jun's black stone dropped, aiming to capture the large group in the life-and-death problem. Jinmyung scowled down at the board.
"That's why I said I haven't got the stones to play."
"Hmm… shall we write out a promissory note, then?"
"Is there anyone who'd lend us money?"
Jinmyung brightened and looked at him. Ak Jun answered with a faintly bitter smile.
"There's the Haomen."
The Haomen. Unlike other martial sects, they practiced no martial arts — and yet their influence rivaled that of the Martial Alliance itself.
A confederation of society's lower strata, people who had never cultivated internal energy: that was the true face of the Haomen. Unlike the orthodox sects, the Donghwa Merchant Group had known them well.
It was the Haomen who had supplied the intelligence that let Dan Jun move freely across the battlefields. Dan Jun had left his family a six-character warning regarding them.
Bulgageun-bulgawon — neither draw near, nor keep far. Because the Haomen was a confederation, and because its members were a class constantly exposed to threat, betrayal came as naturally to them as breathing.
Writing a promissory note to such people was little better than suicide. The moment the Haomen learned Jinmyung's identity, word of his survival could spread across the entire Central Plains.
"I don't much care to get close to anything dirty."
Click. Jinmyung set down a white stone. The large group came back to life.
"You'd like dying even less."
Click. Ak Jun answered with black. The group was in danger again.
"If you hated the idea of me dying so much, why didn't you just leave me alone two years ago?"
Jinmyung asked, lifting his teacup. When Ak Jun looked at him, Jinmyung deliberately avoided his gaze.
"Jinmyung. Do I need a reason for every single time I throw myself into something for your sake?"
Jinmyung scratched his head, took up his cup, and rose. Moonlight fell across them both.
"A friend helping a friend is the most natural thing in the world. There's no need to spell it out."
Ak Jun spoke to Jinmyung's back. An awkward silence filled the inn.
Jinmyung and his family had always treated Ak Sun and his son as more than mere employees. And yet Ak Jun had insisted on calling Jinmyung his lord, keeping the line between them clear.
But to save the man who had lost his family and become a hollow wreck… he could no longer hold that place. Ak Jun had resolved to step closer, and Jinmyung had accepted it with a small, choked sound.
"Think like a merchant. The Guildmaster always said so."
"A small merchant sells what can be seen. A great merchant invests in what cannot…"
"Right. Think of it as an investment. If that sits better with you."
Jinmyung gave a short laugh and wiped his face on his sleeve.
"Fine. With the Haomen's investment, I can set the plan in motion."
For Ak Jun, for Myohong, and for Ak Sun as well, Jinmyung resolved to seek out the Haomen. But one problem remained.
"Do you actually know where the Haomen is?"
Jinmyung turned and looked at Ak Jun. Ak Jun blinked back at him, nonplussed.
"I thought you'd know. The merchant group used to deal with them."
Jinmyung and Ak Jun put their heads together and fretted over it. They could not pin down a single reliable location.
In the end their conversation left the Haomen behind and drifted elsewhere.
"Come to think of it — speaking of merchants — do you mean to defeat the Hwangbo Clan with money?"
"Why wouldn't I? I intend to settle every account in full."
"Ordinary freelancers won't be enough to face the Hwangbo Clan."
"I never said I was going to hire freelancers."
Jinmyung spoke while rattling the iron coin in his hand. Ak Jun tilted his head, wondering if his memory was failing him.
Jinmyung did not have enough iron coins to make a sound. And yet something was clinking in his palm.
A little startled, Ak Jun peered at Jinmyung's hand. Click. Jinmyung blocked a black stone with white.
Ak Jun's life-and-death problem had failed. He gave a wry smile and looked again at Jinmyung's hand. There was only a single iron coin.
Ak Jun decided Jinmyung must have made the clinking by knocking the white stone against the coin. No — the sound had clearly been iron striking iron.
He told himself he was tired and hearing things, and went up to bed. Jinmyung, too, headed for his room.