Fishing for Talent (2)
I racked my brain, and soon realized what that fragrance was.
There had been an incident before where the madam of Yeonhwa Pavilion tried to intentionally set fire to Jaekyung Pavilion by borrowing the power of the Do-eun Merchant Group.
When I'd visited Yeonhwa Pavilion back then, the place had been in poor financial shape, yet they were building an entire annex—that had struck me as odd.
So I'd gone to inspect the building and encountered a suspicious masked figure there.
It was the scent from that fleeing masked man.
The realization hit me, and I hurriedly scanned my surroundings.
Where was it?
Who was emanating that fragrance, and where?
Honestly, even if I found the guy, all I'd gain was some intel on the Murim Alliance's movements.
Or maybe the identity of a hidden Murim Alliance sympathizer.
So why was this compulsion to track down that masked figure burning so fiercely inside me?
I bolted toward the source of the scent.
But it vanished in an instant.
It was over in a flash, leaving me staring blankly into empty air with a dazed expression.
What had just happened felt like a dream.
"Seo-ho, what's wrong? Something happen?"
My brother called out to me, his face etched with concern.
"Young master, are you alright? Why the sudden fuss?"
"Seo-ho."
I shook my head.
The burning desire to find the owner of that scent evaporated in a heartbeat.
It was like having a bucket of cold water dumped over me.
I let out a sigh.
"It's nothing."
"You look exhausted. Let's head back."
"That sounds best."
I nodded at my brother and Palgap's words.
"I thought the travel fatigue had worn off, but guess not."
Coming straight back to Beijing from Sichuan without much rest in between had clearly taken its toll.
"We'll buy gifts for your future wife next time."
My words made my brother's face flush red.
"F-future wife...?!"
"You're already thinking marriage. So, sister-in-law it is."
"Hahaha!"
He didn't deny it.
So propose the second you get back to the merchant group.
We turned toward the Jin Merchant Group's estate. That's when a scene caught our eye.
"You little beggar rat!"
"I didn't steal any dumplings!"
"Lying brat! I saw you!"
"I was trying to tell you the other kids were about to steal them!"
"You're in cahoots with those punks!"
A shop owner swinging a broom at a beggar boy who was getting whacked left and right.
The boy looked genuinely wronged.
Even Beijing had its beggars. Meant plenty of folks struggling to get by.
Looked like the kid might actually get hurt bad, so I approached the owner.
"That's enough beating."
"Who the hell are you?"
"Just a passerby."
"If you're passing by, keep walking quietly...!"
The gruff owner trailed off.
He must've clocked that my clothes were high-quality silk.
No matter how much they preach inner virtue, you can't ignore appearances with people like this.
"Ahem. No need for the young master to concern himself. Just teaching this beggar brat some manners."
"What did this kid do wrong?"
"Well, he stole five whole dumplings!"
"Sounds like you said there were other kids involved?"
"This one was the lookout while the others swiped 'em—has to be!"
"How many others?"
"Five. Each grabbed one, and I remember their faces clear as day."
I nodded and said,
"Five kids, one dumpling each... so none for this one, then."
"They probably split it."
"Kids who ignore their buddy getting beat and stuff their faces would share? When every second counts for a dumpling in their mouths? Doesn't that sound off?"
"Well..."
That wasn't just beggar instinct—it was human nature.
Starving to death, and you'd share a dumpling? You'd barely register anyone else; it'd be dumpling vision only.
"Do those kids steal dumplings often?"
"About once every ten days."
"So you know their faces pretty well. Ever seen this kid with them before?"
"..."
"Recently showed up around here."
"Ever seen him hanging with them?"
"..."
One of the onlookers piped up then.
"I saw that kid getting beat by the other gang once before."
"Yeah, and he helped out."
The boy's face was covered in old bruises.
Guess that's from back then.
Anyway, the onlookers' words proved the kid wasn't part of their crew.
I looked at the boy.
"You said you were trying to warn them about the others stealing?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then why didn't you steal any yourself?"
The boy answered firmly.
"A gentleman doesn't steal, and a sage doesn't pilfer. No matter how desperate, coveting ill-gotten gains isn't the way of a true gentleman."
I was a bit taken aback.
Never expected words like that from him.
"...How old are you?"
"Thirteen this year."
"I see."
I turned to the dumpling shop owner.
"Doesn't look like this kid's with the thieves."
"Ahem..."
I asked the boy,
"Want an apology?"
He shook his head.
"Even if my intentions were good, your shop took a loss because of me. I should be the one apologizing."
He clasped his hands in a formal bow.
"My apologies."
"Ahem, no, forget it. Sorry for the misunderstanding."
I handed the owner some coins.
"Take it."
"What's this...?"
"Apologies need a price. That's the compensation."
"Ah..."
The owner hesitated but pocketed the coins.
I watched him do it.
With the matter settled, I led the boy away from the shop to a quieter spot.
"How's the spot where you got hit?"
"Hurts, but it's nothing. Thank you for helping today."
"Still, best see a physician."
Jeong Ho nodded too.
"Even small wounds can fester badly."
"Gotta wash up first, though."
I nodded at Palgap's words.
I was tired, but this was the kid I'd saved. Couldn't let a beating turn fatal.
I took the boy to a nearby inn.
Couldn't bring some unknown kid straight to the Jin Merchant Group's estate.
Palgap took him to the inn's bath, scrubbed him clean, and brought him out.
A physician arrived right on time and treated the boy's wounds.
But there was a massive sword scar across his back.
Hard to believe he'd survived something like that.
"Three days of ointment, and he'll be fine."
"Thank you."
Once the physician left, I said to the boy,
"Alright, let's eat."
It was late, but I could tell he hadn't eaten dinner yet.
His stomach had been rumbling the whole time.
Down on the first floor, I ordered food for him. Late hour meant just dumplings and noodles.
Still, he ate heartily.
Kid's got a real appetite.
As he eyed a dumpling, the boy asked me,
"Earlier, giving money to the dumpling shop owner... that was on purpose, right?"
"Huh?"
"You were testing him by paying, weren't you?"
Spot on.
But I hadn't expected the kid to catch it.
Curiosity piqued—how'd he figure it out?
"What makes you say that?"
"The owner had already apologized for the misunderstanding. Matter was closed."
"True."
"But you paid anyway, calling it compensation for my apology. Doing that after it was over meant you had an angle."
"Exactly. Sharp as a tack."
I grinned and continued.
"Paying let me see if he accepted your apology for real or just to save face."
"I see."
"If he'd refused the money, I was gonna tell him how to stop the thefts."
The boy replied,
"I know that method too."
"You do?"
"Yes."
He nodded.
"What's your idea, then?"
"The trays are spread too wide. Stack 'em higher but narrower radius. That alone cuts thefts."
Exactly what I'd thought.
There were a few other tricks, but still.
"Can't believe the owner never thought of something so simple."
I chuckled.
"That's why he took my money."
"Fair point."
Chatting more, it dawned on me: this kid was no ordinary sort.
A thirteen-year-old with this insight? Teach him right, and he'd be merchant group gold.
"You can read, right?"
"...Yes."
His eyes sparkled—like a predator spotting prey.
"I've studied the Great Learning."
He said,
"You're rich, right? Hire me!"
"Hire you?"
"Yes! I'll do anything."
Great Learning from the Four Books and Three Classics? Books cost a fortune.
And mastering it meant a teacher.
A kid like that begging? There had to be a story.
But prying it out here wouldn't work.
I took the finished eater back to the room.
"You asked me to hire you earlier?"
"Yes."
"But how'd a kid like you end up wandering alone?"
"Well..."
"Gotta know the story to hire you with peace of mind."
Tears streamed from the boy's eyes.
"Truth is, I was born into a martial clan."
I listened quietly.
"One day, a group raided us. I passed out in the chaos and woke to our home in flames."
"..."
"No family survived."
"And you've been like this since?"
"Yes. Wandered two years, been in Beijing half a year."
"Tough road."
That sword scar on his back during treatment? Now I knew its origin.
"Born in a martial clan, you'd have learned some external arts. Why let those kids beat you?"
"I never learned martial arts. Not the right constitution."
Ah.
As I pondered what to do with him, Jeong Ho said,
"Do what your heart says."
"Huh?"
"You like this kid already. And he's been on the run two years."
"True."
"You're worried his pursuers might cause trouble for the group, but no one thinks he's even alive."
"Yeah, probably."
I decided.
Hire the kid.
This smarts and learning? Nurture it, and he'd help the merchant group big time.
"Haven't asked your name yet. I'm Eun Seo-ho. Yours?"
"Can't use my real name."
"I know. Still wanna hear it."
"My real name's... Min Ji-ik. But to hide my identity, I made up a new one. Call me that from now on."
"Got it. So, what's the new name?"
"Seok Il-song."
Wait, what?
Seok Il-song?
Wan Tong Demon Lord Seok Il-song?
The one called the famed prime minister of the Cheonma Divine Cult in my previous life?
The Murim Alliance had once raided the Cheonma Divine Cult.
They'd cut off supplies in advance, prepared meticulously.
All of the Central Plains expected their victory.
But the outcome differed.