The Golden Token
The next morning.
In a place lined with the warehouses of the Cheonhae Merchant Group, Yeo Geum-hwi received the report from his salt-and-pepper-bearded chief steward and asked the question again.
“Is that true?”
“Yes, Group Leader.”
“You confirmed it yourself? He gave him a gold token—not bronze, not silver, but gold?”
“I’m certain.”
Yeo Geum-hwi’s face settled into an expression of frank disbelief. He thought back to the drinking session between Moyong Wol-un and Gwak Yeon the night before—one that had shown no intention of ending even deep into the small hours.
“Just how much must that old man have taken a liking to him to hand over a Moyong Family gold token after a single drinking bout.”
The guest tokens of the Moyong Family. These tokens, signifying a guest of the house, were ranked gold, silver, and bronze according to their importance. Those of high standing in the Moyong Family typically distributed them in the jianghu to people who had done them a favor or with whom they wished to form a connection. Wear one, and you were treated as an honored guest. Even if the original giver was absent, the family itself would receive you as its guest—that was simply the Moyong way of respecting its elders.
“And I only barely managed to scrape together a single silver token……”
In Yeo Geum-hwi’s estimation, Moyong Wol-un was an eccentric. He certainly didn’t mesh with someone like Jegal Chan, who made no effort whatsoever to accommodate his moods—but that did not mean he favored those who flattered him, either.
And yet.
Gwak Yeon.
That young fellow had walked away with a gold token on their very first meeting—something even Yeo Geum-hwi, for all the years he had known the old man, had never managed to obtain.
Receiving a gold token means he’s secured a chance he can leverage in a major way at least once whenever he becomes entangled with the Seven Great Families.
And that was not all. From the glimpse Yeo Geum-hwi had stolen the day before, the expression on Moyong Wol-un’s face as he spoke with the boy was of a kind he had never seen before—as if the old man had somehow returned to his childhood. Even Yeo Geum-hwi, who prided himself on his skill with words, had never managed that. Whatever the boy had done—
He’s certainly…… nothing like the rumors.
He reached his conclusion. The second young master of the Seoho Gwak Family. The rumors that had clung to the fellow who had not only overwhelmed Baek Jung-hyeok but scored points with Moyong Wol-un, an elder of the Seven Great Families, had been completely wrong all along.
Meaning he’s been hiding his strength until now.
Such people appeared from time to time—latent dragons who kept their claws sheathed in the cruel jianghu until their skills had fully matured. Even when absurd notoriety buried them, even when unjust rumors closed in around them, they never rushed to explain themselves. Instead they simply worked without rest to become greater figures still, treating the world’s disregard and indifference as opportunity.
But.
They say the great peng, once it seizes its chance and rises into the heavens, soars ninety thousand li with a single beat of its wings.
Recalling the tale of that legendary bird of which Zhuangzi had spoken long ago, Yeo Geum-hwi finished his calculations in short order.
“How much silk have you loaded so far?”
“About two carts’ worth.”
“Add three more carts, and see that a box filled with silver ingots is prepared for the last one.”
“Yes.”
“And the specialty goods and rice—loaded as instructed?”
“Yes, Group Leader.”
“Double the amount, and provide the manpower and carriages to transport them.”
“Understood.”
He was increasing the investment directed at the Seoho Gwak Family. The “friendship” gifts being sent today to the Seoho Gwak party returning to Hangzhou would be far more generous than what had been discussed the day before.
On top of that—
“And this.”
“A gift for Young Master Gwak, I see. What pretext shall we use?”
“Congratulations on his victory in the duel will do.”
Yeo Geum-hwi produced a small cloth pouch. The salt-and-pepper-bearded chief steward accepted the separate gift intended for Gwak Yeon and tilted his head.
“But will this much be enough?”
“We haven’t seen any real profit yet. Show excessive goodwill and you only make yourself look foolish. Besides, we still can’t be certain their young family head will be Gwak Yeon.”
“But given that he attended that gathering yesterday, the odds are high the Seoho Gwak Family has already marked Gwak Yeon as their successor.”
“There’s still the eldest son of that house, who has gone to Shaolin Temple to seek instruction. And the talk surrounding the relationship between the second and third sons hasn’t settled either. Rashly pick a horse to back now, and if the relationships reverse later, we could end up in an even more awkward position. Caution is the right course.”
“But still—”
“No need to rush. In two weeks an opportunity will naturally arise for us to express our thanks. Let’s watch the sprouts until then and reconsider.”
He was right. In two weeks the full-scale merchant caravan would begin in earnest. And the escort for that caravan would fall to Gwak Yeon, the victor of the duel. Unlike today—which had no direct bearing on the merchant group’s profits—if the caravan returned safely, praising the efforts of the man who had undertaken the escort would be the most natural thing in the world.
“In the end, what matters is judging how much it helps our profits. Waiting until then won’t be too late.”
“……Understood.”
In truth, what truly mattered on a merchant caravan was not martial prowess alone. The ability to handle unexpected situations, of course—how one employed one’s strength, the quality of the security, and the sheer tenacity to carry through a client’s entrusted mission to the end. All of it was necessary.
Moreover, wasn’t that spoiled little brat accompanying this particular caravan as well?
Gwak Yeon. Now that this newly eye-catching fellow would show what he was made of in two weeks’ time, anticipation was already building.
“Not just Young Master Gwak—see that something is discreetly prepared for their chief steward as well.”
“As you command.”
Yeo Geum-hwi issued the order. To form an “unofficial” friendship with a great family, leaving a favorable impression on their chief steward was the most efficient method of all. Preparing personal gifts not only for Gwak Yeon but already for the Seoho Gwak Family’s chief steward as well—
Holding this duel was worth it.
It meant the scales were gradually tipping—in the matter of deciding the merchant group’s long-term guardian family. Until now he had given a little more weight to the Jusan Baek Family, which had projected a more domineering presence than the Seoho Gwak Family.
Gwak Yeon…… I wonder what kind of showing he’ll put on during the caravan in two weeks.
He had awarded bonus points to the Seoho Gwak Family for always conducting themselves with gravity while raising their descendants to this level.
And so, beginning to rebalance the scales once more, Yeo Geum-hwi mulled over various thoughts—then suddenly turned his head.
“Ah, right.”
The true protagonist of the caravan in two weeks. That is to say—
“By the way, I wonder if he’ll get along with that kid too?”
He was curious about the opinion of the little brat who would soon make his debut in the jianghu.
A little boy leaning against a tree, flipping through a book, muttered to himself.
“………It’s really not that great.”
Then he casually turned his head. The nanny sewing over there naturally offered no reply. Conscious of her presence, a sound closer to a shout than a mutter burst out this time.
“Aah, it’s really not great! It was really, really not great!”
“Yes, yes.”
“Huh? You heard me?”
“How could I not? Even the merchant group’s warriors standing watch outside the manor can tell who Young Master dislikes, the way you’re shouting.”
“Who do I dislike?”
“You just said it wasn’t great.”
“I never said a person wasn’t great?”
“Ah, is that so. Understood.”
The nanny answered without so much as glancing up from her needle. Faced with that thoroughly uninterested demeanor, the little boy finally couldn’t hold back. He closed his book and pressed on.
“But Nanny. If I were to say something wasn’t great, who do you think I’d be thinking of when I said it?”
The nanny’s cheeks trembled as she turned her head to avoid his gaze. Barely suppressing the laughter that threatened to burst free, she continued with feigned innocence.
“You’re not talking about Young Master Gwak who fought Young Master Baek yesterday?”
“Ah, no?”
“Then never mind.”
“But Nanny, you know. Since the topic came up—that Gwak Yeon? Gwak Un? Doesn’t that guy seem like he’s putting on airs of being cool?”
“Did he look cool to you?”
“That’s not it!”
Watching the little boy hurriedly wave his hands as if his true intentions had been exposed, the nanny swallowed her laughter. Not at all. He had been full of admiration the entire time he had watched that fellow Gwak Yeon’s fight through the telescope the day before.
“He just spins his weapons around with both hands for no reason! And one of them wasn’t even a sword—it was a scabbard! There’s no need for that. He’s just pretending to be cool!”
“Yes, yes.”
The nanny nodded, the corners of her mouth twitching. To a woman who had weathered every storm imaginable, the desire of a child that age to look cool in front of others only seemed endearing.
Yeo Baek-rang. The late-born son of Yeo Geum-hwi, leader of the Cheonhae Merchant Group. But he himself wanted to become a sword-bearing martial artist rather than a merchant. He had trained diligently in his own way. The world’s perception, however, remained that of a greenhouse chick who had never properly experienced the outside world, let alone made his debut in the jianghu. Filling a craving for attention with jealousy was hardly strange for a child who had just turned ten. All the more so when the image in question was that of a dashing martial artist who had captivated everyone with a single fight—as if drawn straight from a painting.
……Gwak Yeon.
The nanny recalled the man from the day before. In two weeks he would accompany Young Master Yeo Baek-rang on his first caravan, serving in the role of escort.
I’m a little uneasy about it.
But she felt uneasy. The image of that man she had captured in the latter half of the duel the day before had been that of a battle maniac. Not the kind of eyes that suited an escort. And that, no less, on their young master’s monumental first caravan.
“But Nanny, when I get to that age, I’ll be able to do at least that much, right?”
“Yes, yes.”
“I can already beat him at something like throwing rocks, right? Right?”
“Yes, yes.”
“Ah, Nanny!”
The nanny, who had been answering half-heartedly, turned her head with an oh-dear expression. The ten-year-old Yeo Baek-rang was glaring at her with axe-eyes. Even as she wore an embarrassed smile, a completely unexpected question flew at the woman whose mind was already crowded with all manner of worries.
“But…… if that Gwak Yeon guy and Nanny fought, who do you think would win?”
She paused. Suddenly every miscellaneous worry in her head took flight.
Right.
What was there to worry about with Gwak Yeon or anyone else? She was the one who guarded their young master’s side.
With that conclusion—
“Young Master.”
She who served not only as Yeo Baek-rang’s nanny but as his personal bodyguard opened her mouth with a refreshing laugh.
“Have you ever…… seen me lose to anyone?”
Gulp, gulp, gulp.
“I’d like to see the fellow lose.”
Gulp, gulp, gulp.
“Everyone looks much the same when they win. But a person’s true worth is revealed when they lose.”
Gulp, gulp, gulp.
“……Burrp.”
Splash!
The hunchbacked old man tossed the empty liquor bottle over the railing toward the sea. In other words, Moyong Wol-un addressed Jegal Chan, who was sitting at the ship’s bow scribbling something on paper.
“I mean Gwak Yeon—Gwak Yeon. Are you listening?”
“……”
“Damn it, the elder is speaking and you’re deaf?”
“I’m just finishing this up.”
“Working even inside the carriage, tsk tsk.”
“It can’t be helped.”
With a sigh, Jegal Chan set down his brush. Looking at Moyong Wol-un, he continued in a dry, flat tone.
“Because of you, Elder, the return schedule has become tight.”
“What! Didn’t I tell you!”
Moyong Wol-un shouted, trying to hide his embarrassment.
“I said I had to return to the family first because I gave the fellow my last remaining family gold token and now I’m empty-handed! After seeing those people with you this time, I plan to head west—so if not now, there’s no reason to stop by Liaoning!”
“That’s absurd.”
“What?”
“First, that gold token is your personal matter, Elder. Second, the reason you and I came here is to carry out work on behalf of the Seven Great Families.”
“Weren’t you surprised too!”
“That was when it did not interfere with my work. But reworking the return route by taking a ship again because of your personal business is a different story entirely.”
“But we can still meet the deadline, can’t we?”
“Yes. If we cut rest as much as possible by processing report materials even while riding the ship like this, we can barely meet the schedule.”
“So you’re saying you’re suffering because of me?”
“Because it’s the truth.”
“Heh. When you were little I carried you on my back for training so many times……”
“That’s a story that does not fit the situation.”
Moyong Wol-un was left speechless by a reply that seemed as if it would not bleed a single drop even if stabbed. Rising slightly from his seat, he muttered,
“Ahem ahem, I wonder if there’s any liquor left somewhere~”
Shaking his head as he headed toward the ship’s storage with a sigh.
“Honestly, what a cold-hearted brat.”
Always talking back. That was why even traveling together, the desire to drink simply evaporated. In a situation like this, he couldn’t help but keep thinking of the pleasant drinking session from the other night.
Gwak Yeon, was it?
He had been a pretty good drinking companion. Unlike that Jegal Chan fellow, he hadn’t talked back at every turn—nor had he flattered in an attempt to get on the good side of an elder of the Moyong Family, one of the Seven Great Families.
It’s been a while…… since I had such a comfortable drinking session.
The fellow called Gwak Yeon had simply asked, and listened. About Moyong Wol-un’s life. He was different from the young ones these days who started by recoiling in disgust at an old man’s stories. And that was not all. Each and every question had strangely struck a chord—to the point that even Moyong Wol-un had been forced to look back over the life he had walked in order to answer.
A fellow who hasn’t lived even half of half my life…… is truly strange.
The fellow called Gwak Yeon had felt as if he were someone sincerely trying to understand the path Moyong Wol-un had walked. A truly mysterious thing. And yet Moyong Wol-un himself had felt no urge to spill any secrets to the boy—as if dealing with a neighborhood uncle he had known since childhood……
……Yes. It was well given.
Giving the family’s gold token had not been regrettable in the slightest. No—rather, that alone was not enough.
And so.
Seoho Gwak Family’s Gwak Yeon, was it?
Recalling the fellow and the family he belonged to once more, Moyong Wol-un wore a subtle smile.