Plundering the Front Yard (4)

As the gathering drew to a close, the host, In Gang-su of the Merchant Guild, ascended the platform.

"I hope everyone enjoyed themselves. With that, we conclude this year's assembly."

He then lifted a fan and struck the drum beside him himself.

Dong! Dong! Dong!

At the same moment, sighs of defeat echoed from somewhere. I had a pretty good idea what they meant.

The lamentations of thieves who failed to snag a silver badge.

Among them was the great thief Chun-il's sigh, too—though my bout with him had ended in my victory.

.

.

.

On the way back to the inn.

Father quietly asked me,

"By the way, earlier you seemed quite taken with that one dancer. Is that your type?"

Mother's attention snapped to us as well.

I'd expected questions about it, but not so bluntly.

I chuckled and shook my head.

"Father, my tastes run to women, not men."

"Huh?"

"What do you mean by that?"

Both wore baffled expressions.

To hire the great thief Chun-il as a security consultant, I'd need Father's permission anyway, so I explained the whole story to him.

"So you're saying that dancer is a famous thief?"

"Yes, Father."

"And you challenged him, and you won."

"Yes."

At my reply, Father's gaze drifted to the silver badge at my waist.

"Heh, your first assembly, and you kept your badge? How?"

Because I'd studied it obsessively in my past life.

I'd lost mine in seconds at my first gathering, which sparked my obsession.

I researched like mad and attended the next one—only to lose it again.

But from the one after that, I never lost it.

Partly thanks to my studies, but mostly because the great thief Chun-il never showed.

Or rather, couldn't show.

By my third assembly, he'd already been executed.

In short, I'd never beaten Chun-il in my previous life.

Could I have won the third time?

No, it would've been tough.

Only now, with my Taiyin Freezing Sea Divine Art at the peak, could I see it clearly.

Chun-il wasn't just any thief.

He was super first-rate.

A man with super first-rate talent, repulsed by thievery yet unable to escape it—what a paradox.

Which was all the more reason I couldn't let him go.

Of course, I couldn't tell my parents all that, so I brushed it off vaguely.

"I just saw through his tricks."

"Is that so?"

Thankfully, they ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠let it slide.

I glanced at Father and Mother's waists—no silver badges in sight.

Did Chun-il swipe theirs?

No, he'd been fixated on mine the whole time because of our bet.

Someone else must've taken theirs.

Nothing to be done this time, but next year would be different.

I planned to offer some 'advice.'

I hadn't tipped them off this year because it was my first assembly.

Butting in with pointers right away would've looked odd.

Our carriage rolled on toward the inn.

* * *

At that moment.

Back in his hideout, Chun-il flopped onto his bed.

He was furious.

He couldn't fathom how Eun Seo-ho had seen through his disguise, but this bet was a clear loss.

And every time Seo-ho hit him, he'd played it off as a mistake—but to Chun-il, it was blatant intent.

A kick from under the table, a smack to the head when brushing past while trying to steal...

Dressed as a waiter to nab the badge, only to get tripped...

He was more incensed about the kicks, punches, and falls than failing to steal the badge.

"Sigh."

He exhaled deeply.

No use dwelling; defeat was defeat.

He eyed the note Eun Seo-ho had left.

* * *

The next morning.

I finished my usual meditation and qi circulation, then headed downstairs.

Father was already at the table.

"Sorry I'm late."

"No matter. I just got here myself."

Mother joined soon after, and we enjoyed a delicious chicken porridge breakfast.

As we sipped tea afterward, Father spoke up.

"You're meeting him tonight?"

"Yes."

"He might not show."

"Even better. It'd mean he's untrustworthy—we could cut ties early."

"Fair enough."

Father was on board with hiring Chun-il as a security consultant.

"As you said, only a snake knows a snake's paths. Not a bad idea. But bad habits like sticky fingers don't fix easy."

"You're right, Father. That's why I've got a plan."

"Knew you'd handle it. I trust you."

His trust hit me deep.

I bowed my head in gratitude.

"I won't let you down."

They smiled warmly and nodded.

"One more thing."

"What is it?"

"I know you're heading back to headquarters tomorrow morning, but I'd like to leave a few days later."

"Want to stick around Luoyang a bit longer?"

"Yes."

There was still plunder to be had.

The biggest prize in Luoyang—the real reason I'd come here—would be discarded in two days.

To claim it, I'd need a few more days in the city.

Father thought for a moment, then nodded readily.

"Do as you like."

"Thank you, Father."

.

.

.

I headed to Luoyang's bustling marketplace.

Not for any special reason—Palgap had insisted.

"A place I've dreamed of visiting, and here I am cooped up in an inn. Makes me feel down."

Seeing his droopy-eared, bearish face pricked my conscience.

So out we went.

Sure, a little break now and then is good.

My three escorts stuck close, guarding me tightly.

Seo-u Warrior especially scanned all four directions tensely.

"Seo-u Warrior, relax. It's fine."

"No, young master. Luoyang draws martial artists from across the Central Plains. We can't slack on your safety for a second."

Jin Yu Warrior could've lightened his load, but he was back at the inn.

He'd been a secret assassin raised by the Martial Alliance Leader, based right here in Luoyang.

To avoid trouble if recognized, he'd stay put through the assembly.

I respected that.

But he couldn't hide forever; we'd need a plan.

Instead, he shared useful local tips—like the spicy chicken noodle soup at Miji Restaurant being amazing.

It'd get so famous later you'd queue for hours.

Not yet, so lunch there sounded perfect.

After, the bookstore street.

Luoyang had one, different vibe from Beijing's—more martial-focused, I recalled.

First, though, time to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠blow Palgap's mind.

Soon, we reached a lavish pavilion.

"Whoa! Wh-where's this, young master?"

Palgap blinked at the five-story Huanghu Tea House.

"Huanghu Tea House. They say you haven't really partied in Luoyang without coming here."

Named for the lake out front that turns golden at dusk.

One of the city's fanciest tea houses, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠too.

Evening would've been ideal, but with parents leaving early tomorrow, dinner was with them.

A waiter approached.

"Welcome. Party of how many?"

"Five."

"Which floor?"

I smiled.

"The fifth."

He glanced us over, then bowed.

"This way."

We climbed to the fifth floor of Huanghu Tea House.

The noise faded with each step.

At the top, the serene quiet made me smirk.

Just like I remember.

We took a table, and the waiter presented the menu.

"Five pots of Biluochun."

"Sorry, sir, but we require payment upfront."

I pulled coins from my pouch.

"Thank you. We'll bring it shortly."

As he left, Palgap leaned in, whispering excitedly.

"Best decision ever, serving you, young master. Tea like this in a place like this!"

Prices varied by floor here—a sort of status tax.

Astoundingly steep for commoners, but Palgap lapped it up.

His cheek made me grin back.

"Keep serving well, then."

"Wouldn't dream otherwise!"

My escorts nodded in unison, leaving me a bit embarrassed.

Soon, five pots of Biluochun arrived with snacks.

This green tea from Jiangsu used young buds.

Labor-intensive, but fragrant and delicious.

The subtle fruity aroma meant top-shelf leaves—Dongting Mountain Biluochun, no doubt.

The priciest kind, and fakes abounded, but this was real.

Worth every coin.

I glanced at Palgap, sipping tea and munching happily. I smiled.

I'd brought him here because of my past life.

"Can we go to Luoyang's Huanghu? Please?"

His pleas went unfulfilled for ages—disasters always struck when we tried.

He'd said once,

"If I'd seen it younger, it'd hit harder. But thank you for bringing me anyway."

How could I forget that?

So here we were, at the best spot to view Huanghu.

I'd have loved a tavern, but no booze for servants or guards.

Palgap had served me loyally to the end before.

This was little, but better than nothing.

We soaked in Huanghu's views from the tea house, then headed back to the market.

"Where to now, young master?"

"Bookstore street."

Too early for lunch yet.

"Know the way?"

I nodded.

"Jin Yu Warrior pointed me right."

Memory guided us there soon enough.

I smirked at the promotional signs outside the bookstores.

Unlike Beijing's classics and poetry collections, Luoyang favored martial arts and jianghu books.

Browsing, my eyes locked on a tiny shop in the corner.

A strange pull ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠drew me in.

I stepped inside.

Worn books crammed the shelves—clearly a used bookstore.

The elderly owner barely glanced up, tending his own tasks.

My gaze fixed on one book amid the stacks.

As if compelled, I approached and picked it up.

The cover was makeshift, title missing.

I opened it.