Shares
The Luoyang Sword Family.
The grand banquet hall run by the Reception Bureau.
Even the word opulent fell short of that vast hall, where song and music never ceased.
Speak of pleasure, and one spoke of Luoyang; speak of Luoyang, and one spoke of pleasure. And within that city of pleasures, the Reception Bureau of the Luoyang Sword Family stood without peer. Its hospitality was of a caliber that could, without exaggeration, be called first under heaven.
"Splendid! This is the Moon Palace itself—this is the heavens above! Look where you will and not a single lack greets the eye. Even a banquet of the Immortal Realm would not leave me envious!"
Tang Go-gyu's delighted cry drew applause and cheers from the members of the investment delegation. The noise carried all the way out into the garden, and Young Master Sagong nodded with open satisfaction.
"Good. It's going well."
Beside him, Elder Yu, smoking her tobacco, stuck out her tongue in weary disbelief.
"They race all that way, get ambushed on top of it—and the moment someone says 'banquet,' their eyes roll back into their heads…"
Young Master Sagong smiled.
"Isn't that cheerful temperament the virtue of Sichuan folk? Besides…"
He kept time with the melody drifting from the hall, nodding as he continued.
"How much investment we draw from this delegation depends entirely on the banquet. That would not be an overstatement."
"…True enough."
Elder Yu sighed.
"What bothers me more is the Emei Sect's conduct in Sichuan. We already had reports that their outrages had grown worse than before, but after seeing what they did to Daseonrang, this is past the point of looking the other way."
"Once they forged an alliance with the Dali Duan Family, they no longer needed to watch the Tang Family's face."
Young Master Sagong's mouth curved with the rising melody, but not a trace of humor touched his eyes.
"They used to take the profits of businesses already under their influence as 'donations.' Now…"
Elder Yu finished for him.
"Now they're simply seizing equity outright."
Smoke from her lips scattered on the wind.
"…That the once-illustrious Emei Sect of history should fall so far past any hope of return."
Her gaze turned toward the distance.
"Or perhaps this is simply the age we live in, and Emei is only riding the current…"
The radiant renown of the Nine Great Sects of old had long since withered.
Young Master Sagong offered no answer. Elder Yu had not expected one. He merely hummed along with the faint song drifting from the banquet hall—a Sichuan melody his mother had once sung to him as a child.
The Luoyang Sword Family, Wongak Pavilion.
"Can't you explain it in a way a man can actually understand?"
At the sight of Tal-myeong-gwi-geom grumbling with a chisel in hand, one of the maid corps heaved a sigh.
"…There is no simpler way to explain door repair than this."
He was still floundering, unable to finish even a single door leaf.
"How you ever mastered high-level martial arts with that comprehension of yours…"
The maid shook her head. Tal-myeong-gwi-geom bristled.
"Hey…! What does fixing a door have to do with martial arts—!"
That was when the Second Young Mistress, Yeon Seo-rin, appeared behind him.
"Ah!"
Fresh from the hot springs, she leveled the practice sword in her hand at Tal-myeong-gwi-geom.
"Tal-myeong-gwi-geom!"
He spun around and nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Wh—what?! Why is the Second Young Mistress at Wongak Pavilion?!"
Having spent the entire day wedged into a corner of the pavilion over the door, he had clearly never heard of her visit.
"A man who vanished leaving nothing but retirement rumors—what are you doing at my little brother's house…"
Her eyes fell on the chisel in his hand, and she shook her head.
"No. That hardly matters."
Whether she was baring her teeth or smiling was hard to say as she strode toward him.
"Tal-myeong-gwi-geom! Today of all days, you don't get to run!"
"D-damn it!"
Tal-myeong-gwi-geom flung the chisel aside and vanished with exquisite footwork. Even the maids could not guess which way he had gone—his speed was dizzying.
"Stop right there!"
Yeon Seo-rin sprang from bamboo leaf to bamboo leaf in relentless succession and gave chase with terrifying force.
The maids left behind sighed in unison.
"So much for fixing the door today."
The First Young Master's study.
Yeon So-hyeon sank deep into his chair and spoke.
"…You would transfer the entire stake?"
At his half-murmured words, Sang-gwan Nan-hwa nodded with unyielding resolve.
"Yes. We mean to offer you the whole of the Daseonrang merchant house."
Yeon So-hyeon rested a hand on the armrest and tapped it with his fingers.
"Let me be clear first. Even if you hand the shares to this First Young Master, you will not be free of the Emei Sect's retaliation."
Not a flicker of disorder touched Sang-gwan Nan-hwa's bearing.
"I am aware. Even if Your Lordship declares Daseonrang under the Sword Family's protection, you cannot stop the Emei Sect from staging 'accidents' in Sichuan."
"Indeed. And even if the Sword Family seized on that point and forced the issue to the point of raising troops…"
Sang-gwan Nan-hwa took up the thought.
"The Sichuan Tang Family, which has no wish to see the Sword Family's influence grow in Sichuan, would declare neutrality in the conflict."
Beneath her full lashes, deep eyes fixed on Yeon So-hyeon.
"The Sword Family would then find itself bearing the burden of a distant campaign while facing both the Emei Sect and the Dali Duan Family at once."
She summed it up briefly.
"So the Sword Family would choose, from the outset, to look the other way at those 'accidents.'"
Even by Yeon So-hyeon's standards, her reading of the political weather was more than excellent.
"You understand it well."
This was clearly no judgment born of a young person's recklessness. Yeon So-hyeon's expression grew more serious; he brought his hands together before him and laced his fingers.
"And still you would hand every share over to this First Young Master?"
It was as good as asking whether they were prepared to accept their families' sacrifice.
"…"
In an atmosphere as heavy as stone, the one who answered was not Sang-gwan Nan-hwa.
"That question would be better answered by…"
Even seated, the Daseonrang member was a full head taller than Sang-gwan Nan-hwa. She continued carefully.
"…myself, An Song-gyeong, rather than Representative Sang-gwan Nan-hwa."
"Very well."
Even if the Emei Sect took revenge, the household of Sang-gwan Nan-hwa—daughter of the Governor of Chengdu—would not suffer for it. That was why.
"Excluding Representative Sang-gwan Nan-hwa, every co-representative of Daseonrang and every member of our co-representatives' families…"
Her voice trembled slightly under the strain, but her posture held not a shred of hesitation.
"…have already resolved to accept any sacrifice."
To say they were prepared for family—for someone of their blood—to become a target of retaliation. No merchant in the Central Plains would utter those words lightly. And by every appearance, these young women were nothing like the bloodless, tearless monsters who could.
"…"
Yeon So-hyeon's gaze met each of the Daseonrang members in turn. Under a look that seemed to hollow them out, they trembled despite themselves—yet not one of them looked away. Not even the youngest.
The Head Maid's sound transmission reached his ear.
At least at this moment, their resolve is genuine.
Yeon So-hyeon closed his eyes briefly, then opened them.
"Very well."
He drew his body forward from the chair. His eyes deepened.
"Then I shall hear what you have to say in full earnest."
The maids cleared away the cooled tea and brought fresh cups. Not one of the Daseonrang members moistened her lips with it. Not one of them leaned back against her chair.
Only a little while earlier—after bathing and finishing the evening meal—they had felt fatigue heavy as a thousand catties. But none of them felt that exhaustion now. Tension alone held them upright. Before them sat the First Young Master of the Luoyang Sword Family, radiating a presence so strange it was almost unnatural. Every one of them now understood just how empty the rumors surrounding the name Mugeomza truly were.
"I understand your resolve well enough."
Once the maids had all withdrawn, he spoke.
"If this First Young Master accepts your proposal, what do you intend for your families?"
An Song-gyeong answered.
"The moment they receive the letter we have sent, our families will abandon everything in their homeland and attempt a desperate escape."
"The Emei Sect is hardly likely to grow the least bit careless in its surveillance."
An Song-gyeong bit her lip.
"They are prepared for that as well."
Once word spread through Sichuan that the First Young Master of the Luoyang Sword Family was protecting them, retaliation would certainly come—but not everyone would die. And yet they meant to attempt escape without waiting for that declaration. The meaning of that choice was clear.
Not entrusting their fate to heaven, but deciding it with their own hands—an expression of will.
Yeon So-hyeon nodded slowly and put the next question.
"Then what of the remaining relatives of your households?"
An Song-gyeong's face hardened.
"We will not concern ourselves with them."
The expressions of the other Daseonrang members set just as hard. It was not tension—it was anger.
"…I can guess."
At Yeon So-hyeon's words, An Song-gyeong nodded.
"When Daseonrang succeeded as a merchant house, the first to stretch out their hands and draw near were our relatives…"
Another of the Daseonrang, who had been biting her lip, cut in before she could stop herself.
"And when the Emei Sect began tormenting us, the first to join in those threats were those same so-called relatives."
They need not say another word. Everything Daseonrang must have endured stood vivid before the eye.
The moment word got out that a young daughter of a relative's house had come into a little money, adults from cousins thrice removed to in-laws thrice removed would materialize like ghosts. People who had lived their whole lives as strangers to the parents would suddenly act as if they had sworn brotherhood in the peach garden, dredging up stories of changing diapers in childhood and posing as the closest family under heaven. They would turn up like dogs with full bladders, propping themselves against a pillar and circling the house with nothing to do. They would boast of connections at two and three removes and insist that anything at all be left to them. Then, the instant rumor spread that the Emei Sect had cast its eye on the house, they would be the first to arrive with knives in hand—swaggering as if they had become lay disciples of Emei itself, forcing their way into the inner rooms under the name of kinship and laying down their threats.
"I understand perfectly."
How could Yeon So-hyeon not? He himself was the eldest son of a family where siblings aimed blades at one another.
"You wish to begin Daseonrang anew here in Luoyang."
Sang-gwan Nan-hwa bowed her head.
"That is so."
"And the condition for transferring the shares to me would be that I aid the reconstruction of Daseonrang with every resource I have."
At that, Sang-gwan Nan-hwa shook her head.
"It is enough that Your Lordship lend us your name alone."
With only the barest measure of protection—
"We are Daseonrang."
The resolve to succeed again, however many times it took. Families attempting a desperate flight for their daughters' sake. Relatives cast out as bait for the Emei Sect. The resolve to incur Emei's enmity rather than surrender even a single coin of what was theirs. The tenacity to claw their way back up from a cellar lower than the bottom of the world.
They already possessed more than enough qualification to survive the world's scramble of greed.
"Excellent."
A smile touched the corner of Yeon So-hyeon's mouth.