TSBIRBV Ch 149

Chapter 149 Even If You Deceive Heaven, Deceive an Esper (2)

“Lord of the Trading House, you had better come out.”

At the steward’s summons, Yegyeol felt a wave of déjà vu as he walked out into the trading house courtyard.

A rough-looking warrior was stacking goods one by one. All bore the air of men hardened by brutal work—the bearing of fighters from the unorthodox sects.

At a glance, Yegyeol recognized them.

They’re from Black Spot.

He had already encountered one of Black Spot’s errand-runners in Cheonghae, so discerning their identity was hardly difficult.

His gaze swept past them. The Black Ghost stood there like a shadow, silently watching him.

Their eyes met, but the scarred man’s expression was grave, even oppressive, without a trace of a smile. Yegyeol studied the scar running across his face. As the laborers withdrew, he strode forward decisively.

Finally standing before Haryang, Yegyeol spoke bluntly.

“If this is the same kind of gift you sent to Cheonghae, then take it back with you.”

“I am not so dull as to play the same ineffective move twice.”

The Black Ghost tilted his chin slightly.

“Go on, see for yourself.”

Feigning wariness, Yegyeol reached toward the goods that Black Spot’s men had set down. After shifting a few aside, he opened a chest and murmured:

“This… is merchandise from our trading house.”

Inside lay neatly arranged seals carved from red sandalwood, accompanied by certificates stating they had been sold through the Cheonghae Trading Group.

When Cheonghae Trading began selling red sandalwood, they had instituted certificates. Red sandalwood had always been precious, but once Cheonghae flooded the market with it, suspicions about quality often arose.

So Yegyeol had decided to include certificates guaranteeing authenticity.

The process was this: a small wooden block engraved with the Cheonghae Trading emblem would stamp the date and seller’s name, then the transaction would be recorded in the trading house ledger. The small blocks used for stamping were produced from leftover scraps of red sandalwood after making larger seals—so they were popular items themselves.

The distinctive grain of the red sandalwood was plain to see, and because the seals were by-products that could not exist without authentic sales, they carried an assurance of genuineness.

“Why are you showing me this?”

At his puzzled question, the Black Ghost extended a hand. With a flick of his wrist, a sharp dagger appeared as if by magic.

Hidden in his sleeve?

It seemed less martial skill than sleight of hand.

With the blade, Haryang split the seal in two. White wood showed within, like the flesh of a fruit.

Yegyeol’s face hardened. True red sandalwood should have been a deeper brown with visible grain. None of that was there.

“Well, now we have something to talk about, don’t we?”

Spreading his hands, the Black Ghost prompted him. Yegyeol’s lips trembled as he spoke.

“Come inside…”

The inner chamber of Cheonghae Trading was opened—used only for the most important dealings. So deep within that no sound escaped, Yegyeol had used it perhaps a handful of times since becoming head of the trading group.

“Shall I have tea brought?”

“I’ve little wish to drink, but it would be best to dismiss the guard.”

The sidelong glance at Samrang was perfectly calculated.

“No matter how long a trading partner they’ve been, I cannot leave the Lord of the Trading House alone with an unorthodox warrior,” Samrang said stiffly.

Watching his subordinate speak in such harmony with his guest, Yegyeol pressed his temples as if with a headache.

“Samrang, see to the tea.”

“But, Lord Mun—”

“I’d rather you didn’t embarrass me in front of a guest.”

Samrang pursed her lips tight, bowed her head, and withdrew. Though ordered to fetch tea, she would not actually brew it, but keep others from approaching the chamber.

Alone with the Black Ghost, Yegyeol tried not to stare at his face. They had been apart only a few days, yet he wondered whether the visage beneath the mask was unchanged.

If only he could sense the restlessness and anxiety that had surely driven the man to chase him so swiftly—but alas, Yegyeol was not a mental esper.

“You asked for a private audience, and I’ve provided it. Now it’s time you speak.”

Yegyeol lowered his eyes, deliberately avoiding his gaze to mask his awkwardness.

The Black Ghost, whom Yegyeol thought would draw things out to torment him, instead spoke at once.

“Cheonghae Trading’s certificates are being sold on the black market.”

“Hm.”

Yegyeol’s lips twitched.

“I detected it in time and retrieved all the counterfeit seals that had been released.”

He slipped in his own involvement as if it were simple goodwill. But his scarred visage lent his words a menacing weight.

“Even a fool like me knows that if this continues, it will deal grave harm to Cheonghae Trading.”

That the man who ruled Sichuan’s black market called himself a fool was curious indeed.

Yegyeol slowly replied:

“I had considered the possibility of forgery, but since red sandalwood’s main buyers are the wealthy, this is strange.”

Those unconcerned with money had little reason to sell proof of authenticity. Perhaps a desperate servant had stolen some, but the trading group’s ledgers listed each buyer precisely. With cross-checking, counterfeits should not be hard to expose.

“Who could have stolen certificates?”

Securing the certificates would likely cost more than forging seals.

“When you spend a lifetime in backroom dealings, you learn a few truths.”

The Black Ghost began slowly.

“In the end, frauds all have the same purpose.”

The scarred mouth twisted upward.

“To make a profit.”

Whether tangible wealth or intangible advantage, the crime always had something to gain.

Yegyeol pondered this and sighed.

“To undermine Cheonghae Trading’s credibility?”

“You see true.”

If counterfeit seals bearing Cheonghae’s certificates circulated and were exposed, the trading house’s reputation would crumble.

Once people believed a trading house toyed with its wares, it was near impossible to shed that stain.

Forgiveness was hard; anger came easy.

“Since you recovered all the fakes, you must also know the route of their distribution.”

“Of course.”

Uncharacteristically, the Black Ghost’s tone was almost cheerful.

“They’re being released through Black Spot.”

Yegyeol gave a wry laugh. Perhaps not a scheme Haryang had arranged, but the timing was almost too neat.

Now he had no choice but to accompany the Black Ghost.

“So there’s the one who steals the certificates, the one who forges the seals, and the one who sells them… What do you think?”

Expecting it was not the work of a single man, Yegyeol watched him closely.

“If you want the one stealing certificates, look within your trading house.”

If one wished to know who held Cheonghae’s certificates, the fastest way was to examine the ledgers.

“…I’ll look into it. And the other two?”

“Whatever I look like, I’m a trader myself.”

The Black Ghost smiled faintly.

“I can’t just give it all away.”

Ah. So recovering the counterfeit seals, warning of reputational danger, and hinting at the leak’s source—all had been previews.

If he demanded payment for the information needed to find the culprits, how could Yegyeol refuse?

Fingers laced, leaning back, Yegyeol fell silent in deep thought.

“At the very least, I’d like to meet the counterfeiter alive. Is that possible?”

The forgery was convincing. Had Haryang not split it, Yegyeol might never have noticed.

If it could deceive his eye, the craftsman was skilled indeed.

Since it’s come to this, I should at least gain that much.

Artisans are precious in any age.

“…It’s possible.”

The Black Ghost’s tone was reluctant, his eyes curious at Yegyeol’s desire.

“Then I’ll pay the price.”

“And how can you say that so easily, without knowing what I’ll demand?”

The Black Ghost’s gaze raked over him, thirsty.

In that sharp tone, Yegyeol gave the faintest smile.

“I trust you wouldn’t do me harm.”

“…You are overly optimistic.”

The once-polite voice now edged with chill.

“Am I? I wouldn’t know. But…”

Licking his dry lips, Yegyeol whispered:

“When I received the gifts you sent to Cheonghae, I wondered if you meant to expose me. I was terrified—I sent them all back and shook for days. But then…”

He smiled bitterly.

“Nothing happened.”

“…”

The Black Ghost said nothing.

“Walking on eggshells like that, day after day, when I received your letter I realized something.”

Yegyeol’s lips moved.

“You’re a trader. You wouldn’t sell me off too cheaply.”

The words slipped into his ears like venom.

“You’re not the kind of man who acts just to vent his spite.”

Though Yegyeol barely lifted a finger, Haryang felt as if his throat had been seized. He gave a dry laugh.

What should he say to this guileless disciple?

That he could do nothing because Je Haryang himself had already strangled him before the Black Ghost could?

That he’d already planned to drag him to Mount Ten Thousand anyway, so the mask was meaningless?

“So it is.”

The same rough voice spilled from Haryang’s lips.

“If you were the kind of man I could cast aside with petty spite, how easy that would be.”