TSBIRBV Ch 24

Chapter 24 The Tang Clan of Sichuan (3)

As Yegyeol had requested, Samrang returned with information on several escort agencies (pyo-guk, 표국) in Sichuan. In the process, she must have also spread a few choice bits of gossip about him, because the workers’ looks toward him were decidedly unfriendly.

Half of them looked down on him as if he were an ignorant child; the other half regarded him as rather pathetic.

They didn’t know his exact status as “guild master,” but word had more or less spread that he held a high enough position to have decision-making authority. It was impossible for the insiders not to notice, given that he had a personal bodyguard trailing him—when even Jin Sam, the caravan master, didn’t have one.

And yet this supposedly important gentleman showed almost no interest in whether negotiations went well or poorly and, simply because he wanted to return quickly, was already looking recklessly into hiring a different escort agency.

For a laborer whose employment could disappear at any time depending on the company’s fortunes, it was only natural for them to find him detestable.

“Someone’s arrived from the Tang Clan!”

A young errand boy came running with the news, and Jin Sam strolled out to greet them. Soon, negotiations began in the same room as the day before.

Expression indifferent, brush in hand, Yegyeol sat down.

Jin Sam and Tang Seoak resumed their haggling.

“Our stance is unchanged—we must raise the escort fee. Unlike other martial sects, the Tang Clan uses poison and concealed weapons, which are expendables. The more clashes there are, the greater the losses.”

“Ah now, Senior Tang, wasn’t the original escort fee already set with such matters in mind?”

“The price of venom has risen sharply of late. After all, with the incident of the Millennium Thunder-Horned Python, everyone’s snapping up any animal deemed to have spiritual potency.”

So… like an unscratched lottery ticket?

Feigning a scratch to his wrist, Yegyeol discreetly rubbed the head of Baembeam hidden in his sleeve. The feel of that damp little snout brushing then pulling away was utterly endearing.

He had kept the creature because he needed it, but the more time they spent together, the more he grew attached. And of course, being no ordinary beast, it was brilliantly intelligent.

“But if the escort fee rises this much, our losses will be greater.”

“These are orders from above. I’m merely a collateral branch—I can’t overturn them.”

When Tang Seoak made a show of helplessness, Jin Sam cautiously produced what he had prepared.

“Even so, to preserve your face, Senior Tang, I’ve drafted a compromise that’s better than what we offered yesterday. Would you take a look?”

“Well… if Master Jin says so…”

The soft rustle of paper accompanied their discussion.

“Then what about this?”

Tang Seoak glanced meaningfully toward Yegyeol before speaking.

“Go ahead.”

“If, during a caravan we’re escorting, something does go wrong, we’ll raise the penalty we pay for the loss.”

His words dripped with condescension—like he was magnanimously making a concession. At the same time, it was also a bite on the fishing line Yegyeol had cast.

Well now, look at that.

Keeping his head lowered as if absorbed in his writing, Yegyeol let a crooked smile play on his lips. He hadn’t expected them to take the bait so quickly after being made to sweat just a little.

“Hmm…”

Jin Sam straightened in his seat. He didn’t so much as glance at Yegyeol, but the shift in his mindset was obvious.

[Shall we kill it?]

Samrang’s voice brushed his ear in a silent sound transmission—asking if he wanted this deal stopped.

Sharp as ever, thought Yegyeol, though he only lauded his Senior Brother’s judgment for choosing her. Moving his brush in a subtle motion, he indicated that she should stay put.

In the end, the contract was signed right under his nose.

Its terms were simple: Qinghai Company would pay the Tang Clan higher escort fees, but if they failed to keep the caravan safe, the Clan would pay double the value of any lost goods as penalty.

In reality, it was heavily tilted in the Tang Clan’s favor—because in Sichuan, there was no force bold enough to interfere with the Tang Clan’s operations.

As the meeting broke up and the room grew noisy, Jin Sam returned from chatting with Tang Seoak, smiling genially as he spoke to Yegyeol.

“Senior Tang invites us to a banquet. You should come, Master Wen.”

“A banquet?”

“Yes—he’s reserved a VIP room at Wuxiang Pavilion, one of the three great pleasure houses of Sichuan.”

Though it wasn’t even his own invitation, Jin Sam’s shoulders fairly swelled with self-importance.

“The Tang Clan’s hospitality is renowned—you’ll surely enjoy it.”

A pleasure house, is it?

Born an esper with many flaws, if fate had granted him the perfect guide, shouldn’t he at least offer a chaste body in return?

Having engraved deep in bone and flesh the ruinous fate of senior espers who, to forget the side effects of their powers, chased after ever greater stimulation—Yegyeol felt only distaste at the thought.

Keeping that off his face, he declined politely.

“I’m still worn out from the journey. I appreciate the invitation, but I’ve no energy to attend. My apologies. Please go in my stead, Master Jin.”

“Ah, of course—rest well.”

Jin Sam clicked his tongue in regret before withdrawing.

Yegyeol shuddered. If Je Haryang had shown even half that level of clinginess, he’d have said, Yes, thank you! and gobbled it up—but he had absolutely zero interest in Jin Sam.

Once they were alone, Samrang, confirming no one else was nearby, asked,

“When did you start suspecting?”

It seemed she had pieced together both Yegyeol’s sudden show of friendliness with Jin Sam the night before and his grasp of the undertones in today’s talk with Tang Seoak.

“From the first day,” he answered calmly.

“The first day?” Samrang looked at him in surprise.

“So the guild master was born with a merchant’s instincts after all?”

Yegyeol shook his head.

“No. Remember how, on the day we arrived, Master Jin asked who was in charge here—even though he knew who Tang Seoak was?”

“That’s right, he did.”

But how could a man who’d handled Sichuan routes for years not recognize the Tang Clan’s local head? It was far too clumsy.

And Tang Seoak’s bearing had made it obvious—every time a decision point arose, the Tang Clan’s martial artists looked to him.

“And then he just happens to be the one saying they need more money?”

Yegyeol twirled a lock of his hair around a finger—the same hair he’d never cut, yet had never grown any longer since coming to the Central Plains.

“So, I decided to light a little fire under his tail.”

He mimed the sound of a blaze catching—fwoosh—and let a smile curl his lips. To an outsider, it might have looked boyish and harmless, but his tone was icy enough to send chills down the spine.

Samrang found herself oddly delighted.

Ah, Jinyoung would probably faint if he saw this…

Whatever else their lord had brought home, it certainly wasn’t a delicate little bird.

“And the Tang Clan, in a panic, came back with this penalty clause proposal?”

They’d known exactly what Qinghai Company was doing the moment they entered Chengdu, and they’d surely heard he was looking into new escorts.

He’d even had Samrang spread rumors that he was a frivolous, spoiled boy.

A calculating man could be managed according to plan—but a fickle child who just wanted to go home was a wildcard.

“It means they know I’m not just some decorative rookie. And as you know, only three people here know who I really am.”

He ticked them off on his fingers: Wen Yegyeol, Samrang, and Caravan Master Jin Sam.

“So tell me—which backside did Tang Seoak give a swift kick to when he pushed to close the deal? Me, sleeping under my blankets? Or Samrang, who was standing right there on escort duty?”

Yegyeol tapped his own forehead in mock self-reproach.

“Ah, right—I forgot Baembeam. My Baembeam knows I’m the Qinghai Trading Master too. If it had gone out, dipped its tail in ink, and written ‘The culprit is…’ then Tang Seoak, the Tang Clan, and all of Chengdu would have known by now.”

His expression was pure innocence, though the words dripped with sarcasm.

“Given that Jin Sam has handled Sichuan routes for years, it’s hardly odd if he’s gotten cozy with the Tang Clan,” Samrang said.

From the mention of pleasure houses, it was clear Jin Sam was accustomed to Tang Seoak’s invitations—hence the casual talk of the Clan’s lavish hospitality.

“I just wanted to kick a pebble out of Senior Brother’s path—so why does it feel like a boulder rolled out with it…” Yegyeol sighed.

“What will you do now?”

“Find proof for Senior Brother.”

“I’d like to hear your plan.”

At that, Yegyeol let his arms dangle limply.

“My brain’s no good, so I’ll throw my body at it.”

He meant it.

“And how exactly does an untrained, delicate man without martial arts intend to do that?”

Samrang’s tone, uncharacteristically for her, held genuine concern—unsurprising, perhaps, since she was the only one of Je Haryang’s three personal aides to have met Yegyeol as a patient.

“Hmm, right. I am delicate. Guess there’s no helping it.”

He nodded—it was a fair point. Here, after all, he was nothing more than an esper without martial arts training. If he acted recklessly, word might get back to his Senior Brother.

Samrang squared her shoulders, ready for a command—her lord’s orders had been to act as his limbs, and this was the perfect chance to prove her worth.

But Yegyeol didn’t even glance at her. Instead, he rolled up his sleeve.

From where it had been quietly playing the role of a golden bracelet, the Millennium Thunder-Horned Python lifted its head.

“Go, Baembeam. I choose you!”

…A snake?

Footnotes:

• Pyo-guk (표국) — armed escort agency in murim/wuxia settings that transports goods and protects clients on trade routes.

• Three great pleasure houses of Sichuan — elite entertainment establishments serving high-status patrons; gi-ru (기루) is a term for such houses that often combine fine dining, performance, and courtesan services.

• Sound transmission (전음) — a martial arts ability to project one’s voice directly to another’s ear without being overheard.