The Awaited Harvest (1)
While I was speaking with the Provincial Commander, my escort warriors had already bound all the attackers.
They'd naturally collected every last suicide poison pill as well.
Watching the scene, the Provincial Commander clicked his tongue in amazement.
"Impressive. That wasn't the work of amateurs."
"Shangjie is a cutthroat place, isn't it? We have to deal with types like these all the time."
I selected the one armed with the finest weapon.
For martial artists, weapons were nearly as coveted as martial arts themselves, so the leader was likely the best-equipped.
At my order, a Mingjong warrior splashed cold water on his face.
"Gah!"
The man jolted awake in shock, saw me, and bit his lip as realization dawned.
"A ronin, I take it."
"That's right."
"Well, your clothes and weapons are all mismatched, after all."
Ronin fell into two categories, depending on their inclinations.
White ronin, who earned coin in the light—escort duties and such.
And black ronin, who profited from the shadows—ambushes and assassinations.
These had to be the latter.
He smirked and said, "Sorry about this. Even if you torture me, you won't get what you want."
"So you're not planning to tell us who hired you."
"We don't even know ourselves. What could we say if there's nothing to tell?"
How brazen.
Then again, you needed that kind of nerve to lead black ronin.
"So, how much did you get paid?"
"What?"
"You'd know how much your band was paid, right? Don't tell me you don't. A man your age not knowing his own fee? That'd just make you an idiot."
"Ten nyang of gold dust!"
"You know it, then. But for killing a first-class official from the Shandong Yeok family—the Provincial Commander himself—you took a measly ten nyang? Naive, or just desperate for cash?"
"Damn it!"
He gnashed his teeth at my words and spat them out.
"They promised to wipe our names from the Murim Alliance's wanted list if we succeeded!"
Ah, so that's why they moved for pocket change.
Ten nyang of gold dust was probably just operating funds.
Clever play.
"So you couldn't afford to be picky about hot rice or cold porridge?"
"And if I was?"
"That means your client has the pull to erase names from the Murim Alliance's wanted list."
"...!"
His eyes widened at my words.
"Whoever hired you is high up in the Murim Alliance."
I grinned.
"That's different from what you said earlier. You knew nothing."
"..."
His face twisted in dismay.
Shing.
The Seo-u warrior behind me drew his sword.
"Then why don't you tell us everything you do know?"
A short while later.
I glanced at the ronin leader, now a battered wreck. He couldn't even grip a sword properly, let alone walk straight—but I felt no pity.
Black ronin meant multiple innocent lives taken.
Being on the Murim Alliance's wanted list meant they'd operated with particular brutality.
From his mouth, I'd confirmed the client was someone in the Murim Alliance.
The job was to kill the Provincial Commander, and he'd spoken with an Anhui Province accent.
That was more than enough intel.
"Anhui Province, huh. The head of the Baekcheon Merchant Group was from the Namgung family, right?"
"As far as I know."
And the Namgung family was based in Anhui.
"We'll have to look into this thoroughly."
Deep fury laced the Provincial Commander's words. Who wouldn't rage at an attempt on their life?
The next morning.
We set off for Luoyang again.
Our business here was largely done.
Just in case, we trailed the Provincial Commander's group at a distance all the way to Luoyang.
No further attacks came before he reached the city and entered safely.
Hiring those black ronin had probably been no small feat; doing it again would be impossible.
With the Provincial Commander safely inside the walls, it was his turn to shine.
A man who'd risen to Provincial Commander from Nanjing in the military wouldn't disappoint.
Especially with this personal grudge—he'd shake things up thoroughly, that much was certain.
Tsk tsk. Foolish Namgung Kang. Why stir up trouble like that...?
I turned to my group and said, "Now we go our own way."
"Yes. Where to, young master?"
"Hangzhou."
At the Baekcheon Merchant Group, a savage beating was underway—one too gruesome for open eyes.
Thud! Thwack thwack!
The one relentlessly kicking was Namgung Kang, the merchant lord.
His victim: Ji Taek-mun, the manager.
"Damn it! No skills, and you strut around like a manager? Is that what I made you for, you bastard?!"
"S-sorry... guh!"
He let out a pained groan.
Called back to Baekcheon upon summons, he'd been kicked just as expected—and the beating continued.
Blood pooled everywhere, but Namgung Kang showed no sign of stopping.
"I handed you Chaegyeong Merchant Group on a platter, and you lose it back? Just die, you worm!"
The other managers and servants watched in fidgeting unease.
They dared not intervene; they knew his temper all too well.
Then.
"M-My lord."
"What?!"
The servant flinched at the icy snap and whispered, "Word just came: Provincial Commander Yeong-gyeong of Ak is heading to the Murim Alliance."
"What?"
"Provincial Commander Yeong-gyeong of Ak has entered the Murim Alliance grounds..."
"Damn it!"
Namgung Kang ground his teeth.
Decent black ronin, hired on purpose—yet they failed.
Why? Four peak experts among them. Even with escorts, that old man should've been easy prey. No Super First-rate master involved...
Super First-rates weren't commonplace.
No time to dawdle—he needed to clean this up fast.
He headed straight for the dungeon, and only then did the others drag the ragdoll-like Ji Taek-mun to a physician.
A moment later.
Arriving at the dungeon, Namgung Kang eyed his deputy and the escort squad that had guarded Mo Cheong.
"Spare us!"
"We just followed your orders! Why are you doing this?!"
He flashed a venomous smile at their pleas.
"Trying to pin your crimes on me now?"
"My lord!"
"To think I trusted wretches like you with my tasks! Ugh!"
"..."
They realized it then.
They were to take the fall for him—and die in his place.
Rage boiled over, inevitably.
"You son of a bitch!"
"Abandoning the loyal men who served you?!"
Namgung Kang whispered to them, "That's the world for you."
Shing.
He drew his sword and entered the dungeon, severing his deputy's head.
Slash!
Thud, roll roll roll.
The deputy's head tumbled across the floor. The escort captain suddenly recalled Mo Cheong's words.
"Heh! You'll end up like me in the end."
He closed his eyes.
You were right... we ended up the same. I wanted just a bit more time, but even that fell short of two months.
But dying like a dog? No thanks.
Mo Cheong, you prepared a way to survive. I, at least, prepared one to lash out.
Twang!
He drew the hidden dagger smuggled in by a dungeon guard.
And hurled it at Namgung Kang.
Slash!
His own head flew—but his final spite struck true.
No one dreamed the dungeon's escort captain would have such a hidden weapon.
Thunk!
"Aaaargh!"
The dagger embedded in Namgung Kang's left eye.
"Grrgh! You bastard! Get a physician! Now!"
Chaos erupted at Baekcheon. Every physician rushed to treat his eye.
"Can my eye be saved?"
"We're sorry."
"..."
That answer said it all.
Unable to hide his despair at losing the eye, a servant cautiously relayed a message.
"M-My lord. Word from the Murim Alliance. The elder summons you."
"..."
The pain still throbbed, but it was a call from his father—one of the Alliance's heavyweights.
No matter what, he had to go at once.
We retraced our steps back to Hangzhou.
West Lake's scenery was breathtaking, no matter how many times I saw it.
"Truly stunning."
Seo-hyang Sojeo admired it beside me.
"I'm glad I became the sub-branch master's deputy. Scenery like this makes it worthwhile."
"But isn't the travel exhausting?"
She beamed at my words. "For views like these, it's a small price."
"By the way, why Hangzhou?"
Palgap's question drew a grin from me.
"What do you think?"
"The Yangyang Martial Hall, maybe?"
"That's part of it, but I have a bigger goal. Time to buy up Hangzhou's pleasure houses."
That was why I'd brought Seo-hyang Sojeo along.
"First, to Yangyang Martial Hall."
"Yes."
We arrived to warm welcomes from the hall's children and Master Yeom Jin-yeon.
"Welcome."
"Sorry I haven't visited in so long."
"No need. Thanks to your supplies, we had a warm, full winter."
After greeting the kids, I followed Master Yeom to his office.
"Please, have some tea."
"Thank you."
Master Yeom poured me tea and spoke calmly.
"It's been a year and a half since we moved here."
"Yes."
About two years since the famine began.
"So, how's business at the pleasure house built on the old Yangyang site?"
He smiled faintly. "We haven't recouped even a tenth of the investment."
Just as I figured.
A pleasure house in that spot? And with the alcohol ban...
He must've thought it'd be a goldmine, building there—even evicting Yangyang Martial Hall.
But he had no idea of the backlash from forcing them out.
"June's almost here—perfect weather. Time to prepare the move."
I'll check out those pleasure houses first.
I left Yangyang and strolled Hangzhou's red-light district.
Once bustling with crowds before the ban.
Now, eerily deserted.
The red lanterns that once bathed everything in crimson glow stayed dark.
No oil to spare, and no patrons anyway.
Palgap sounded shocked. "Young master, is this the place I know?"
"It's the one."
"Famine's no joke."
I nodded.
My steps halted at Wi Jun-deok's cloth shop—the manager, now shopkeeper.
Little luxurious silk; mostly practical fabrics.
Quick on his feet, as expected.
Spotting me amid his inventory, Wi Jun-deok rushed over in surprise.
"Sub-branch master! Welcome."
"How've you been?"
We went inside, and he served tea.
I'd had some earlier, but it was a welcome gesture—I accepted.
"Holding up well despite the famine."
"Yes. Tough, but your advice kept us afloat."
"Good to hear."
"What brings you to Hangzhou?"
Instead of answering, I got to the point.
"I need a favor."
"Anything."
"Any pleasure houses here up for sale?"
He thought briefly. "A few have hit the market."
"Must be rough out there."
"Indeed."
"What about the ones not for sale?"
"Same boat. Barely hanging on—that's why no sales yet."
"I see."
"Why do you ask?"
I grinned at his question.
"Because I'm about to become the owner of Hangzhou's pleasure houses."