TSBIRBV Ch 151

Chapter 151 Even If You Deceive Heaven, Deceive an Esper (4)

Yegyeol pressed his lips together, as though he could not bring himself to complete the sentence.

The Black Ghost did not press him further, only pinned him in place with the weight of his gaze.

“You too are influencing me, Black Ghost.”

It was an admission forced out as if unwillingly, and Yegyeol likely had no idea just how deeply it shook him.

The first thing Haryang felt was a rush of exhilaration. No matter how much he altered his face, his voice, even his very nature and background, Yegyeol seemed always to recognize him—like a duckling trailing after its mother.

And that was precisely why, at the same time, he was afraid. Yegyeol’s attachment to the Black Ghost also meant there was a possibility that someone other than Haryang might come to possess his disciple.

Though he would never hand him over to anyone, the thought that Yegyeol might simply walk away of his own accord became a tangible, pressing fear.

“At least all my fretting and waiting for you was not in vain.”

The Black Ghost stretched out a hand, giving Yegyeol’s cheek a light flick. Then his knuckles brushed gently down the curve of his disciple’s face.

Caught in a gaze he could not escape, a chill ripple ran down Yegyeol’s spine.

“To think I would hear such words…”

The long, low sigh that followed was laden with heavy emotion.

“…I cannot promise anything,” Yegyeol murmured.

“Just do not flee again as you did this time.”

The Black Ghost drove the wedge in.

“Once more, I will find myself chasing you without thought.”

Yegyeol’s shoulders tightened slightly.

“My patience may have sufficed this time, but who can say if any will remain the next?”

“…Is that a threat?”

“A persuasion.”

He looked every bit the villain. Yegyeol blinked several times, then let out a long sigh.

“When I first asked to strike a bargain, I knew what kind of man you were. I’ll bear it.”

Lifting the guarantee slip the man had set on the desk earlier, Yegyeol continued:

“As for our relationship, we can discover it gradually. For now, let us settle the urgent matter first.”

They had met on business; it was only natural to focus on business.

Haryang was lenient with prey that curled its tail to flee. He had never meant to hound his disciple too tightly into a corner anyway.

“A merchant, you said, always seeks profit.”

At those words, the Black Ghost gave a slow nod.

“They did not go to all this trouble merely to sell a few more rosewood seals. What they truly seek is the credibility of Qinghai Trading Group. Once the notion takes root that we palm off fakes and line our pockets, sales will inevitably fall.”

Yegyeol hunched his shoulders slightly, explaining his deductions in a quiet voice.

“This never happened back in Qinghai. Which means… the ones behind it must be a trading group based here in Sichuan. Or perhaps one trying to expand its influence here.”

He might have begun this line of reasoning merely to divert the subject, but the way he narrowed down the suspects revealed a sharp judgment.

Watching him in silence, Haryang’s eyes grew dark. If Baekyang Zhenren had been a proper teacher, what sort of man would this child have become?

Should I count it a blessing for myself instead?

For the one who forced Yegyeol to choose him over Kunlun, Haryang did not know what sort of gift would be appropriate.

It had been a very long time since he had felt so at a loss.

“To crush them, we must first draw the enemy out.”

Haryang offered the suggestion casually. Yegyeol fell silent, but Haryang was not disappointed. He knew his disciple had little experience with matters such as this.

All he needed to do was wait for Yegyeol to ask for help.

Lost in thought, Yegyeol tapped his fingers lightly against the guarantee slip. Tok. Tok. The crisp rhythm repeated at regular intervals until, at last, his hand stilled.

“I have a good idea.”

Haryang turned his gaze on him with interest.

Bobo was a woman scraping by day after day on odd jobs in the bustling capital of Sichuan. She helped out at inns, took in small sewing tasks.

Now she lingered outside the Sichuan branch of the Qinghai Trading Group, clutching a wooden token and a seal.

With this… huh? They say I won’t need to worry about food for three years!

The voice of a tavern boy she knew rang clear in her memory. The fellow had a bad habit of gambling, and often fell into debt. Yet the other day, he had appeared in brand-new clothes and shoes, smirking.

He bragged that he had paid off his debts to the Black Night Gang, and when asked how, he spilled the secret over a plate of bar snacks.

“Go to Old Yu, the fence in the back alleys, and ask for a seal and some goods. Fifty copper coins, that’s all.”

“Fifty?”

That much, even Bobo could scrape together.

“Then take it to the Qinghai Trading Group and claim you’re worried the rosewood seal you bought is a fake. Demand a refund, just as they promised when you purchased it. Steward Zhang will hand over a pouch of money—done!”

The tavern boy had snickered as he drained his cup.

“When I opened that pouch—hah! Worthy of one of the greatest trading groups under heaven. We totally played them.”

In other words, it was dirty money, gained through fraud.

Bobo had listened half-doubtful, but the thought of relief from her suffocating poverty quickly outstripped caution.

It did not take her long to act. She sought out Old Yu, who handed her a seal and a wooden slip with writing carved on it. Then she hurried straight to the Qinghai Trading Group—if that tavern boy knew, the whole neighborhood would soon follow.

I just need to get my share.

Climbing the steps, she faltered in front of the gate. The gleam of the halberds the guards held kept drawing her eyes.

What if they see through me, know I’m a swindler, and skewer me with those weapons?

“Er…”

Before she crossed the wide-open doors, she hesitated and spoke.

“Are you here about the seal?”

The guard’s voice was surprisingly kind. Startled, Bobo clamped her lips shut and nodded.

“Y-yes. Yes.”

“Then please, step inside.”

The guard courteously stepped aside. Only after she had taken a few steps past the threshold did Bobo finally let out a breath.

Good. They haven’t noticed… yet.

She tried not to dart her eyes around, but the sheer number of people startled her. Were they all employees of the Qinghai Trading Group?

No wonder it’s one of the most powerful in the Central Plains.

Her nerves eased a little. With a group of this size, surely they would not chase her down too fiercely for a mere scam. Like skimming a single spoon of rice from a granary.

“You there! Get in line!”

As she tried to edge past, a surly-looking man jabbed a finger at her.

“L-line?”

“You’re here for your seal money, aren’t you?”

“Uh? Y-yes, yes, I came for the… seal money.”

“Then line up. What, you think the rest of us are fools, standing here all day?”

Grumbling, the man turned back. Bobo hesitated, then shuffled to the end of the line. The sun was not too hot yet; standing and waiting was tolerable.

As boredom set in, she peeked at those around her. Some were even selling their places in line for money, then going back to wait again.

What…? Is this place a gathering of every kind of swindler and peddler alive?

It felt like discovering a new world.

Her legs began to ache by the time she finally reached the steward of the Sichuan branch.

“Greetings. I am Dou Woomin, steward of Qinghai Trading Group. Please note, if there is any abusive language during consultation, our guards will immediately intervene.”

“Y-yes, of course.”

Do all great trading groups act like this?

The unfamiliar formality left her stiff. No matter—she only planned to take the money and leave without drawing attention.

“Please give me your name and the date you purchased the seal.”

She fumbled out the wooden slip.

“H-here. It’s written here.”

She was illiterate.

“Hmm. So you are Lady Huang Ge.”

Her face flushed crimson. Huang Ge—anyone would think that was a man’s name. And to be called Lady on top of it felt like mockery.

“Y-yes. My parents wanted a son, so they gave me that name.”

Blurting excuses unasked, she hunched her shoulders. This con was proving harder than she’d imagined.

“Please wait a moment while we cross-check the record of the guarantee slip in the ledger. Then we’ll process your refund.”

If I spend all day here for nothing, I’ll be drinking water for supper.

Staring down, she noticed the sleeve of her best dress was frayed, and the hem of her skirt bore a dirt stain.

Her heart lurched.

With me looking this shabby, will the steward believe me? Merchants have sharp eyes, sharper than knives. I should’ve borrowed money and bought new clothes.

She also fretted over her rough, blunted fingernails from hard labor.

“Here we are.”

But to her relief, the steward merely flipped through the ledger, wrote something down by hand, and handed her a pouch from a nearby stack.

“Oh!”

They… they really gave it to me?

A mix of joy, embarrassment, relief, and shame crossed her face. Her head spun with all the things she might do with the money, but there were too many needs and not enough to cover them all.

“As I informed you earlier, this is only the first compensation installment for mental damages. The full refund will be processed on the second repayment date.”

“The… the second?”

Holding the pouch, her tension eased, and she echoed the words blankly. The tavern boy had never mentioned that.

“Yes. I’ve noted your name and details here. Please return on the second repayment date.”

Her heart pounded.

They’ll give me even more?

The steward lowered his voice slightly.

“…But it would be best to return quickly. The number of certificates we can issue in a short time is limited. If you delay, you may have to wait until the third repayment date.”

“I-I’ll come back. Definitely.”

She vowed it.

The steward beamed, pressed his hands together, and bowed politely.

“Then I, Dou Woomin of Qinghai Trading Group, thank you.”