TSBIRBV Ch 33

Chapter 33 Black Ghost (5)

“The Tang Clan’s compensation has arrived.”

Samrang reported brightly. Since their return from the Black Spot, she had been behaving—if not exactly diligent—at least like a turtle compared to the sloth she used to be.

“Even if it was small scale, they seemed conscious of us assigning other caravans to Qingcheng Sect and Emei Sect’s branch families.”

“Exactly. Sometimes you need to pour oil on their feet before they get the fire.”

Yegyeol smiled in satisfaction as he stroked Baembeam. The snake, not even knowing why its master was amused, happily flicked its tail and wrapped itself around his pinky.

Treating even such a fearsome spirit beast’s display of affection as nothing special, Yegyeol asked casually:

“And the bandits? You looked after them?”

Even though Yegyeol spoke of people as though they were livestock, Samrang answered without a ripple of discomfort.

“I settled them well in the estate we procured through the Black Spot. They’ve shown no signs of trying to escape.”

“And the caravan master?”

“Per your order, I promoted him and gave him minor administrative duties. Within a few months his mistakes will be exposed, and he’ll step down by himself.”

Of course, Tang Seoak, who had colluded with that man, would start to sense something was wrong. But outwardly, no one else would suspect anything.

“Then all that’s left is to wait for the payment from fencing the goods through the Black Spot.”

Given the situation, earning three times the profit was a remarkable success.

“Quite the result, and you haven’t even officially started.”

Samrang’s admiration wasn’t flattery this time.

Yegyeol slouched his shoulders and said,

“But I worry I cut too many corners. I want to be a disciple Senior Brother can be proud of—and instead I got worked up and schemed too hard.”

“Whatever you do, he’ll say you’ve done well.”

Samrang’s encouragement was sincere. In truth, their lord would probably just ask if he had fun collapsing the Qinghai Company entirely.

“Anyway… I did think about what products we should sell.”

Yegyeol’s eyes lit up.

“Get me a jujube tree. Alive. Or if we have spare funds, buying a whole mountain covered with them wouldn’t be bad…”

Mid-thought, he paused. Samrang’s face soured as she asked,

“A…jujube tree?”

“I plan to sell lightning-struck wood.”

When you don’t know what to do, start with what you’re best at.

Extending his hand, Baembeam rose instinctively, flicking its tongue. Watching the tiny pink tongue dart about, Samrang remembered afresh that this little creature had once reduced an entire mountain fortress to ashes.

“Struck jujube… Bijo-mok?”

She clicked her tongue. Bijo-mok, lightning-struck jujube wood, was prized—used in seals, talismans, and luxury goods. Large pieces were rare, and prices soared.

Among high officials, it was a fashion. Even Shaolin, endlessly wealthy, used prayer beads carved not only of jade but of this wood. To the ignorant, it might look ordinary—but those who knew recognized its value.

“Who’d have thought someone would trade spirits for profit… but I see our guild master intends to.”

It was premature to call him a seasoned merchant, but his instinct to leverage a unique strength so aptly was undeniable.

“Truly flexible thinking. Normally no one would dream of fabricating what heaven strikes—the notion itself wouldn’t occur.”

Most believed lightning was heaven’s wrath. Even if one had the means, finding and selling fallen trees was one thing; deliberately creating them, another—it verged on sacrilege. Even Samrang, who had grown up on the fringes of Xinjiang away from orthodox beliefs, felt a twinge of unease.

“Fabricated? This is a spiritual beast. Spirits are heaven’s gift.”

Yegyeol replied shamelessly. His expression said plainly he didn’t care about any gods. Anyone else might have called him impious, but Samrang’s organization cared nothing for heaven’s will.

Letting her discomfort melt away, she said,

“Very well. I’ll search for jujube groves. Or secure a mountain with a suitable climate to plant them.”

This fragile young man, whom their lord had “picked up” barely able to breathe, continued to surprise her.

“Do both. Do both.”

“Oh—and lightning-struck lime trees are called Yeonsu wood. Their grain resembles dragon eyes; very popular as staffs. Taoist sects like Wudang or even Kunlun’s Daoists covet them.”

Having already stepped into the realm of sacrilege, Samrang piled on. Yegyeol readily agreed.

“Good. Acquire lime trees too.”

Even before his profits were realized, his spending had already multiplied—but he didn’t mind. To him, it was like running a simulation game, with all figures abstracted and unfamiliar.

“We’ll need carpenters, too. Can’t just sell raw timber. Let’s entice them with finely crafted products.”

“I’ll look into it.”

“Oh, and…”

Yegyeol hesitated, until Samrang prompted him.

“Please, tell me.”

“I think I may have offended the Black Spot’s Sichuan branch master.”

“If you truly had, I assure you your head and body would’ve already been separated.”

Samrang answered swiftly, needing to conceal that Black Ghost and Je Haryang were the same man.

“No, I mean I’d like to give thanks.”

“…Ah.”

With an uncharacteristic shyness, his gaze pressed. Samrang stiffly nodded.

“You seem to know him. What does he like?”

“Men of Hao are all money fiends—they like silver best.”

Her answer was chosen to obscure any resemblance to their lord. Narrowing his eyes, Yegyeol patted her shoulder.

“So you only know him by face. Then continue to do business through Sichuan’s branch. Sooner or later, we’ll learn his true preferences.”

“…Are you doubting my observational skills?”

“When it comes to relationships, yes.”

Samrang’s lips parted, then shut. Accurate enough; she’d never had anything close to a true friend.

“So, Black Ghost is affiliated with Hao Clan?”

“Most likely.”

“Most likely?”

“Rank-and-file operatives often mask their true identities.”

She smiled vaguely, though she had no permission to share even that much. But part of her wanted to see how far Yegyeol could go—the boy who had recognized Je Haryang under a false face without knowing who he truly was. Given a few more hints, what might he accomplish?

If Jinyoung had been here, he would have shrouded their lord even more tightly, sealing every leak. But Samrang was a different being altogether. Harder roads, greater risk—that was her nature. Without Je Haryang’s leash, she’d have been dead years ago.

“I see.”

Yegyeol nodded.

“Then I’ll go carry out your instructions. If you go out, at least summon a guard to notify me.”

“Sure, sure.”

He waved her off. Samrang glanced at the snake coiled on his wrist, then slipped out soundlessly.

Outside, she turned a corner and met Jinyoung.

“Hello.”

“Well, you actually look human today.”

Usually draped in black assassin’s garb, Samrang was in light armor—save the scars on her palms, she could pass for an ordinary worker.

“A period of penance. The lord called my full name.”

“How’d that happen?”

Jinyoung clicked his tongue.

“A thug broke in while I’d left the boy alone.”

“A guard’s duty is never to leave their charge alone.”

His mouth tightened—Samrang’s laziness aside, Yegyeol’s suspiciousness was another matter entirely.

“Well, it’s just…”

Samrang frowned. She’d followed instinct that moment. Somehow she felt he’d be fine. Not merely because of the spirit beast.

Her instincts classified him as ‘strong.’

Half her life spent wandering under moonlight, Samrang had seen every kind of person—killed many. On assassinations, split-second decisions divided life and death. That bred a habit: observe every target closely. The more you knew, the less chance of error.

That habit grew into compulsion. She studied everyone she met, committing quirks to memory.

And with Yegyeol, she sensed the leisure—the arrogance—of true strength.

It wasn’t impossible to sniff danger on a powerless man. But Yegyeol was outwardly the most ordinary of all. Which was why she hadn’t recognized the contradiction.

“…Anyway. I’ll be a faithful guard from here.”

If she said she had acted on instinct, perhaps Hongyeo would believe. But Jinyoung? Never. And in the end, it had been a mistake. If that thug had done more than drag him by the wrist—if he’d drawn a blade…

A shiver traced her spine.

Footnotes:

• Bijo-mok (벽조목) — lightning-struck jujube wood, luxury item prized for seals, talismans, or prayer beads. 
• Yeonsu wood (연수목) — lightning-struck lime tree; its dragon-eye grain makes prized staffs. 
• Shaolin prayer beads — Shaolin monks are portrayed as making beads from jade and rare woods like Bijo-mok. 
• Hao Clan (하오문) — powerful underworld syndicate, linked to crime, money, and intelligence networks. 
• Black Ghost (흑귀) — alias adopted by Je Haryang, posing as master of the Sichuan branch of the Black Spot underworld market.