TSBIRBV Ch 113

Chapter 113 More Than a Drama (1)

Morning broke clear and bright. Yegyeol, sitting up after waking, blinked his sleepy eyes several times before yawning.

He felt strangely refreshed and unburdened.

Did I really sleep an entire day straight?

This must have been less about physical fatigue and more about a mental issue. Having shaken off the grudges of his past life one by one, his heart felt lighter.

They had seemed so trivial that he barely even remembered them, but thinking back now, perhaps it was because he had long ago given up, convinced that revenge was impossible.

Besides, yesterday… he had briefly woken only to be guided by Haryang’s hand into finishing even self-pleasure.

A satisfied, cat-like smile curled on Yegyeol’s lips as he recalled the elder brother’s body heat enveloping him from behind.

His body felt clean and refreshed, and both the bedclothes he wore and the quilt that covered him were new. Just imagining that his elder brother had replaced everything while he slept made him feel good.

At long last, he had managed to stack perhaps one-tenth of the Great Wall between himself and his elder brother—not the Black Ghost but the true Haryang!

This was a triumph Yegyeol had never expected to achieve upon arriving in Hangzhou.

“Breakfast shall be served.”

The moment he stirred, a servant who had been waiting brought in wash water and immediately after that, the morning meal. Though Yegyeol only nibbled at it, he still cleared every dish placed before him.

It was not out of fear of consequences. Rather, after sleeping the entire day and spending energy on that “lesson” in self-pleasure, he found his vitality quite depleted.

“Where is my elder brother?”

When he asked the servant who came to clear away the empty dishes, the man bowed deeply before replying.

“The master tended to you the entire day yesterday, but left on a journey early this morning.”

“Ah.”

Yegyeol nodded. As expected.

It was something he noticed every time—Je Haryang’s decisiveness was extraordinary. Had he not been the type to act immediately upon his thoughts, he would never have been hailed as the greatest prodigy of his generation.

That he had even waited a day was surprising.

If not for the fact that I briefly woke yesterday, perhaps he would have left straightaway.

Suppressing his flushed cheeks, Yegyeol gave an order.

“Since my elder brother is away, prepare for an errand I must run.”

“Within the hour, a carriage and escort will be made ready.”

Even without Haryang present, the manor’s servants worked briskly.

Once inside the carriage, Yegyeol gave the coachman directions to the location he had already memorized.

The carriage set off. Resting his chin on his hand, Yegyeol gazed out at the scenery.

He was on his way to offer incense to Hwang Noya.

At a small Taoist temple in Hangzhou, Yegyeol, led by a priest, found the memorial tablet of Hwang Noya. Following instructions, he lit incense and, rather than awkwardly looking around, closed his eyes.

In his past life, he had never built a friendship close enough to be invited to a funeral, and of all the people he had met after entering Kunlun, Yegyeol himself had been the first to die. Everything about this felt foreign and awkward.

Eat slowly.

He barely remembered most of what Hwang Noya had told him. His advice had mattered less to Yegyeol than the food he had given him.

Even so, strangely, Yegyeol’s chest kept tightening and loosening in waves.

“The dye workshop you cherished, Noya, seems it will continue on.”

Yegyeol let slip the words that had tickled his throat.

“The beggar truly ate expensive meals, didn’t he? Wouldn’t you agree?”

Even if he counted each grain of rice swallowed, what he had done for the dye workshop amounted to a loss. To have even involved his elder brother—what was all this for?

Yet, though slightly embarrassed, he did not feel bad at all.

Why keep wasting food on a beggar? I won’t be able to repay it anyway.

Just eat it. You need something to look forward to if tomorrow is to be worth living, don’t you?

At that time, Hwang Noya had stopped his busy hands, as though deep in thought, then, after a long pause, had spoken.

As you live, you’ll come to have leeway. And once you have leeway, you’ll find people you want to help. When that time comes, helping them will be counted as repaying this favor.

“…Still, I ate well.”

As Yegyeol turned to leave, he spotted Gu Young‑ik standing at the doorway, his arms full of things. The man’s eyes were brimming, watery like those of a calf.

So many people came and went that Yegyeol had ignored the sense of presence, and it would have been awkward to blame his escort for not informing him.

Gu Young‑ik, looking so harmless, must have seemed no reason to interrupt the incense offering.

“Master Gu.”

At Yegyeol’s words, the man rubbed his eyes and bowed his head low.

“Master? I am unworthy of such a title. It suits only Hwang Noya.”

It was not empty modesty. His admiration for Hwang Noya was plain.

“You’ve come to burn incense as well, I see. I was just leaving, so please, take your time.”

“Ah, wait just a moment, please!”

Gu Young‑ik reached out, but two guards crossed their arms before him. Though their swords remained sheathed, they were unmistakably real, and the sight of steel crossing froze Gu Young‑ik’s face in fear.

“P-Please, at least allow me to treat you to a cup of tea! There’s a fine teahouse nearby!”

Though trembling, he spoke out fully.

That he had not simply fled, despite such fear, made Yegyeol curious about his purpose.

When will elder brother finish his business?

Judging that, just like before when Gu had come to the clothing shop, once Haryang finished with Jangchil he would come find him, Yegyeol gestured with his chin.

“Lead the way.”

The teahouse Gu Young‑ik brought him to was modest in scale, but its quiet elegance gave it charm.

My elder brother enjoys tea. Before leaving Hangzhou, I should bring him here.

Yegyeol gracefully raised his cup. Perhaps from constantly watching Haryang, the etiquette of tea had become second nature to him.

In his previous life, imitating Haryang had only made him clumsy, but now, reborn, anything physical came to him with startling speed. Truly, espers had an absurd capacity for learning.

“I heard that you are the Lord of a Merchant Guild,” Gu Young‑ik began after clearing his throat.

“Mm.”

Though seated here by Haryang’s arrangement, he did indeed serve as the head of the greatest trading guild in Qinghai.

“Osam Guild’s master made quite a fuss, so you must have heard. Yes, I command one guild.”

“As soon as we were freed from Osam Guild, we began rebuilding Seonye Workshop. The Prefect returned the money that Guildmaster Jang had unjustly taken from us.”

“That is fortunate indeed.”

The Prefect could easily have kept it, but since a complaint had been filed to the Emperor, he must have judged that swallowing it would cause trouble. An unintended positive outcome.

“My point is…”

As Yegyeol responded in no more than a businesslike manner, Gu Young‑ik, flustered, stumbled over his words.

He quickly raised his teacup to cover his awkwardness, cleared his throat, and met Yegyeol’s gaze.

“If… if Seonye Workshop resumes dyeing, we would like to supply cloth to your guild.”

In short, he wanted to play the grateful magpie repaying kindness.

“Though it was I who spoke, everyone else agreed. All are grateful to you, Lord.”

Gu Young‑ik earnestly laid out the situation of Seonye Workshop.

Doing good did not always bring reward, but it seemed luck was on their side this time. Yet Yegyeol lowered his gaze.

“Hmm…”

The longer he remained silent, the brighter Gu’s calf-like eyes seemed to shine. It felt like being struck by his gaze.

Finally pulling himself together, Yegyeol spoke.

“I’ve seen the cloth you dyed under Osam Guild.”

“Y-Yes… I personally presented it.”

At those cold words, Gu Young‑ik stiffened as he answered. The atmosphere turned taut, as if the very temperature had dropped a few degrees.

“Be honest.”

Yegyeol deliberately avoided his eyes as he continued.

“If Hwang Noya had seen it, he would have said to throw such silk in the privy. Why should I distribute such cloth?”

Of course, Yegyeol knew well that the flaws in that fabric were not due to the workshop’s lack of skill. Jangchil, desperate to present results within the deadline, had tormented Gu and the other artisans, forcing out a poor product.

Still—

“I am the head of Qinghai Guild. We trade chiefly in rare goods from the Western Regions and Sichuan’s Chokgeum silk.[1] Do you truly think Seonye Workshop can supply cloth of such quality?”

Gu could not answer.

Sichuan silk was distinct. Known as Chokgeum (“Brocade of Shu”), it was considered one of the finest fabrics in the Central Plains.

Even if the profits could not match those earned from selling Western goods to the Central Plains, the earnings from exporting Chokgeum abroad were substantial.

“No matter how famed a guild, its name will tarnish if it deals in inferior goods. Thus, I must decline.”

“I… I see.”

His calf-like eyes drooped.

Yegyeol had not spoken harshly for no reason.

The artisans of Seonye Workshop would know that Yegyeol had intervened in Jangchil’s matter. After all, almost immediately after his visit, Osam Guild collapsed and they were freed. There was no proof, but enough suspicion.

For now, their gratitude was great. They would likely give him every scrap of production they had.

But Yegyeol judged that such dependence would not help the workshop endure.

Seonye Workshop’s roots had been half torn up. For it to last, it needed to reintegrate into Hangzhou’s society, not tie itself solely to a distant guild like Qinghai. They had to rekindle ties with their old, local partners.

So naïve. After the Osam Guild affair, they should have realized the danger of narrowing trade to just one or two clients…

“Then…”

After a long silence, Gu Young‑ik seemed to recall something and spoke.

“If… if Seonye Workshop produces goods fit not to shame Qinghai Guild, could I then renew my request?”

Footnotes

[1] Chokgeum (蜀錦, “Brocade of Shu”) – A luxury silk textile woven in ancient Sichuan, prized throughout China and beyond for its brilliant colors and intricate designs. In historical China, it was considered one of the finest grades of silk and was a major export product.