TSBIRBV Ch 56

Chapter 56 A Cornered Rat (1)

At the riverbank ferry, people gathered in scattered knots to wait for boats. Compared to the once-bustling days, the numbers were thin.

Peddlers with bundles stared bleakly across the water, noodles swelling and turning to mush in untouched bowls.

“Hardly anyone around.”

“There’s talk a big battle might break out on the Yangtze.”

“It’s been so peaceful—why all of a sudden?”

One merchant lowered his voice.

“On the way here I saw martial artists gathering—Namgung’s Azure Sky banners.”

“Ah, hell. My contract says I must cross within three days. No one knows when it starts or when it ends…”

Listening quietly, Yegyeol lifted his bowl and drained even the broth.

It had been days since the last dose of guiding, so flavors no longer sang as they should—but he made himself eat for form’s sake.

“The river folk are spooked,” he said.

Across from him, Samrang slid more food his way.

“The Jiaolong King moving alone is shocking. Add Sichuan Tang and Namgung showing themselves on the riverbanks, and of course everyone startles.”

The two currently posed as a brother and sister trying to cross.

They had left Peng Munhyeong back at the inn and come ahead to the Yangtze. Yegyeol had left a letter with the waiter; when the drunk woke, it would be delivered.

He lifted a pinch of finely chopped bamboo shoot. Tasteless, but the texture amused him; he chewed blankly, swallowed, and asked,

“When does our boat come?”

“It’s making way along the current. Tight, but it will arrive before anything starts. Don’t worry.”

Just then—

“You two—how far are you going?”

A man from a nearby table wandered over and plopped down beside Yegyeol.

Aside from a sallow face, he seemed ordinary.

“To Sichuan,” Samrang answered softly, adjusting her chopsticks.

Yegyeol could tell at a glance she meant to pin something vital with them if needed—eyes or throat—yet her voice stayed perfectly mild.

“In this chaos?”

“Our grandmother who raised us lies ill. We must pay our respects quickly.”

“Tsk. Hard luck.”

The man’s eyes rolled.

“Because I pity your plight—pay a little extra and I’ll get you berths on the fastest boat on the Yangtze.”

“Thank you for the thought, but we can’t afford it.”

“Shouldn’t you see your grandmother while she lives? Save money and miss her last breath, and you’ll carry regret forever.”

Yegyeol set his chopsticks down and placed his hands on his knees. One more word and he’d send Baembeam to give the man a taste of static.

Knock him out cold. The swindler, oblivious to the venomous snake—no, electric snake—poised to strike, kept prattling.

“There you are.”

The voice was rough but familiar. Yegyeol’s eyes flew wide as he turned.

Senior Brother—more precisely, Je Haryang in his Sichuan branch “Black Ghost” guise—stood there.

Why is he here?

Shock, joy, and something indescribably raw all hit at once.

Even masked and bone-slimmed by bone-shrinking skill, he peered eagerly: had the road worn him thin, did he look tired—he searched for any sign.

He wouldn’t find the Je Haryang from the Beast-Faced Tiger’s tale this way. But Yegyeol still wanted to find one more grain of the man he didn’t yet know.

“Do you have business with my sister?”

With that brutal “Black Ghost” face and a sword at his hip, he was a martial artist through and through—a high-level unorthodox master by any look.

To a fraud like this, Je Haryang was as terrifying as a magistrate’s man.

“O-oh! N-no—no!”

“You mentioned a fine boat…?”

Polite, drawn-out phrasing, and pressure that felt anything but casual.

“Could we hear more details?”

“Ha! I only had two seats—ah, three siblings, is it? My mistake, sorry, sorry!”

The swindler babbled excuses and bolted. Je Haryang slid naturally into the vacated spot.

They had a long way yet to Sichuan, but Yegyeol’s face lit up just to see him now.

“Thank you for the help. To think we’d see you here.”

He used the scammer as a pretext to offer water to a man who had come far. Truth be told, he had forgotten the cheat entirely the moment Black Ghost appeared.

Je Haryang, face in full Black Ghost disguise, accepted without demur.

Not by design, but their fingers brushed—barely. A flicker of guiding surged, then slipped away. Yegyeol wetted his lips, unsatisfied.

Samrang gave the smallest nod and turned away, pretending indifference as she kept watch.

“What brings you to the Yangtze?” Yegyeol asked.

“I heard the item I wanted was here,” he said.

Bold, and Yegyeol liked it. Clearly he’d come to check on Yegyeol amid the swelling chaos, then deflected with a smooth lie.

“I also came to deliver payment.”

He drew a draft from his breast. Yegyeol’s eyes brightened as he saw the seal.

“Great Continental Banking House?”

One of the Central Plains’ foremost banks—he knew the name from taking over the guild and researching banks. They issued drafts and loans; smaller houses acted like loan sharks, larger ones invested in promising ventures for a cut. Great Continental did both.

“Yes. Since you operate from Qinghai, I thought this would suit you.”

“Samrang,” Yegyeol said, handing the draft over.

“You aren’t going to verify it?” she asked.

“We can’t unpack ledgers here and do the sums. Besides…”

He let his voice trail off.

“…I don’t believe Lord Black Ghost would deceive me.”

Under the mask, Je Haryang’s lips quirked.

“Call that innocence… or perhaps, mercy. In any case, I’ve no intention of crossing a guild like Qinghai.”

The smile was crooked—one Yegyeol had never imagined on the old Je Haryang.

“In return for your trust, I can offer a morsel of information.”

The tone dipped—suggestive, meaningful.

“Information?”

“A client came to buy drifters from Black Spot. He boasted of great change coming to the Yangtze—that the river would welcome its true dragon.”

A hint of rebellion against the Jiaolong King.

“I’ve dealt with him before—easy to recall his face. If you wish, I’ll give you that stockade chief’s name.”

“…You’d sell me someone you know?”

“In front of a paying customer, even that is merchandise.”

Nowhere on the man before him could Yegyeol see the Je Haryang he knew. Only a Black Spot trader stood there, coolly calling even people “goods.”

The shadowed edge—unlike anything in the old Je Haryang—made Yegyeol’s heart clench as if a dark hand seized it.

And yet—

“I’ll buy.”

Even that was fine.

He wasn’t even being guided—and still, euphoria edged through him. If Black-Ghost-faced Je Haryang tried to sell him dented copper coins, he might snap them up too.

He once thought Je Haryang was born to be a martial artist—but clearly, he made a very fine merchant. No wonder he’d handed Qinghai to Yegyeol.

“The name is Sabok Paedo Manak, chief of Golden Dragon Stockade.”

“How shall I pay?”

“At a suitable time, I’ll come for a suitable thing.”

“Of course…” Yegyeol smiled sweetly.

“You truly are a good man, Lord Black Ghost.”

That brutal face betrayed nothing. But knowing who it was, Yegyeol didn’t flinch, even as he lightly took the man’s hand.

“I’ll pay with interest.”

Black Ghost did not react at once; his brows pinched. Then, with polite firmness, he disengaged.

“I meant only that I hope you continue to patronize Black Spot.”

Customer management—nothing more. Not enough to spoil the mood for Yegyeol, buoyed as he was.

“I’ll come directly to Sichuan. Please see to our next deal.”

An esper with no reverse gear—having found his guide, he set the next appointment on the spot.

Black Ghost rose to leave, but paused at those words and glanced back.

This was only their second meeting, yet the man was already so warm—like a puppy, never taught to distrust.

But what kind of house-pet tumbles into a plot that could upend the Yangtze, then sits there with such an innocent face?

“Next time, let’s meet under safer circumstances,” he said.

Yegyeol laughed.

Now, he was sure why Je Haryang had come. He could have sent the draft from Black Spot. He had come all the way to the river just to hand over critical information—a pretext, in truth. Samrang could have passed such a tip along.

“There’s no need to worry for me. There’s someone I mean to meet.”

Vague words. Perhaps he meant the Je Haryang waiting in Qinghai, perhaps the Black Ghost to meet in Sichuan—never mind they were one and the same, unknown to him.

“I keep my promises,” he added.

“Indeed. The new guild master is a man of his word,” Black Ghost replied.

He turned without formal goodbye and strode off.

Yegyeol watched long after he vanished into the ferry crowd.

[The Beast-Faced Tiger and Gye-ri crossed paths.]

Je Haryang’s sound-transmission made Samrang pause. She lifted the swollen noodle bowl, using it to hide her mouth as she watched the area.

[Yes.]

[I’ll receive the report later. Whether this works or not, take Gye-ri to the reed fields. Hongyeo will be waiting.]

[By your command.]

After a few sips of broth, she set the bowl down and propped her chin on her hand. Her eyes met Yegyeol’s, who was staring fixedly.

“So—how far along are our people?”

— — —

Footnotes:

• Great Continental Banking House — A premier bank-like institution in the Central Plains; issues drafts and loans, and invests in promising ventures for profit-sharing. 
• Golden Dragon Stockade (금룡채) — A river stockade whose chief Sabok Paedo Manak is implicated in a rising against the Jiaolong King. 
• “True dragon” — A euphemism signaling a bid to dethrone the Jiaolong King and install a rival “dragon” over the Yangtze.