Chapter 17
Yeo-il stared without much reaction at the dark lake spread out behind the woman in red silk.
"...The boss is constantly worried about someone. He said if you showed up while he was gone, we should roll out the red carpet – a huge feast, the best booze and music, and the hottest girls to keep you entertained. Basically, treat you like royalty until he gets back."
The woman's gaze, soft and whisper-like, was fixed precisely on Yeo-il's cheek.
Seol-yeong, looking annoyed by her stare, reached out and half-closed the window, cutting her off with a cold voice.
"We're in a hurry, so we'll just tend to our business and leave."
"Oh, damn! That's too bad. The boss is gonna be so bummed..."
The woman furrowed her white brows and let out a languid sigh. But only for a moment.
"Sorry, I got a little excited that you're here. Please, come on in."
The woman in red silk stepped back.
As Seol-yeong ascended the pavilion stairs with a soundly sleeping Chang-ah on his back, Yeo-il also rose and followed.
"We have important guests!"
"Make our guests feel welcome!"
Creak—
The inside of the wide-open pavilion was as bright as day, and the place smelled amazing, like something out of a dream. The woman standing in front of the nearest pillar asked Seol-yeong.
"Sir, would you like something to eat?"
Ignoring her and passing by, the woman standing in front of the second pillar asked.
"And what about a drink, sir?"
Ignoring her again, the woman standing in front of the third pillar approached.
"Then, sir, would you like someone to talk to?"
When Seol-yeong stopped walking, the woman, who had deeply bowed her head, guided them to the west.
After walking for a while, the woman suddenly vanished, and a space as dark as the outside greeted Yeo-il.
Jingle—
With each step, golden bells hanging from the endlessly high ceiling brushed against their heads, making clear and noisy sounds.
"...Young Master Soyo? W-where is this place?"
"Shhh. It's alright, Chang-ah. Keep your eyes closed."
After Chang-ah closed her eyes again, looking out of it, Seol-yeong looked around, clearly uneasy.
"I've felt it before, but… whenever I enter this strange room, the bell sounds echoing from all directions disorient my sense of direction."
As they kept walking, a faint ray of light appeared in the distance.
In front of a red lantern, a small table, ink, paper, and a brush were placed. Soon, Yeo-il scribbled a short sentence on the paper.
Namgung Chu-myeong is a fake – he's not what he seems.
Jingle—
Folding the paper and tying it to the string with the bell, the red string shot up towards the ceiling.
Not long after, bells began to ring again in the strangely quiet space.
Jingle—
Jingle—
Jingle—
They moved, following the direction guided by the bells. As soon as they left the bell room, the darkness receded, and a woman standing in front of a simply arranged drawer was visible.
The woman, bowing her head to them, opened the left drawer out of the two.
With a whoosh, silver coins poured out like a waterfall.
It was the value of the information Yeo-il had sold to this place, Chwihyangwon.
"Whoa-ho!"
Seol-yeong's eyes went wide, and he whispered, covering his mouth, "Is that even more than last time?"
"Well, the info we sold six months ago was old news. This is way more valuable."
Information changes in value over time. The information Yeo-il disposed of this time was a precious secret that was more than enough to cause a stir in the martial world.
Half a year ago, they even verified the facts of the secret, but today that process was also omitted. It seemed like they were receiving the VIP treatment at Chwihyangwon.
The woman put the mountain of silver coins into a large white porcelain jar, on which the words 'Hangryongmun (Resisting Dragon Gate)' were neatly written.
Hangryongmun.
After the Hao-mun, a heretical sect that possessed the best information network on the continent during the Righteous-Demonic War that began 25 years ago, collapsed, there was a period when dozens of sects sprang up like mushrooms after rain in the martial arts world, declaring that they would succeed the legacy of Hao-mun.
The victor was Hangryongmun.
As the saying goes, 'You can deceive the moon, but you cannot deceive Hangryongmun' – meaning they know everything. Hangryongmun had its fingers in every pie – every incident, accident, rumor, and shady deal in the martial arts world.
Chwihyangwon was the Hubei and Henan branch of Hangryongmun, and there were as many as nine magnificent and beautiful Hangryongmun pavilions like this one in various parts of the continent.
You could see just how much money they were raking in.
The woman had a servant hand Seol-yeong the white porcelain jar containing five hundred nyang (a unit of currency).
"That's five hundred nyang total. Please, take it."
It was a ton of money.
But Seol-yeong didn't take the jar. As he watched silently, the woman bowed her head and asked.
"Is there anything else you require?"
"I do."
"Tell us, and everyone at Chwihyangwon will be listening."
At that, Seol-yeong spoke aloud.
"One.
The identity of the person wearing Namgung Chu-myeong's skin.
Two.
Whether the Namgung Clan's death list is real.
I need these two pieces of information. As quickly as possible."
Time passed.
Drums started beating, and a servant began to pour the silver coins from the jar into the right drawer.
Clink— The last coin dropped, but the drawer remained open. Seol-yeong asked the woman.
"Isn't five hundred nyang enough?"
"I'm sorry."
"How much short is it?"
"Three hundred nyang."
Three hundred nyang. It was by no means a small amount. Seol-yeong, in a difficult situation, whispered to Yeo-il.
"We don't have three hundred nyang. What do we do?"
Yeo-il, who had been silent for a while, calmly parted her lips.
"We'll pay the rest after we get the info."
The woman's head bowed even deeper. It was a refusal.
"I'm sorry. Hangryongmun's policy is payment upfront."
"Tell the boss of Chwihyangwon that if we provide good information, I'll sell them new info worth more than double the three hundred nyang."
"The boss isn't here right now..."
"Then you'll have to decide. I'm someone Hangryongmun treats as a VIP, and you wouldn't be greeting me if you were just some nobody."
The woman's brow furrowed tightly as she kept her head bowed. Still, three hundred nyang was clearly a significant amount to ask for.
"We're in a hurry, so I'll give you to the count of three."
"…"
"Three."
"…"
"Two."
"…"
"One."
Just as Yeo-il turned to leave, ready to forgo the second request.
"...We have a deal."
The woman's voice, heard a beat late, caught her ankle.
"We'll get you answers that'll make you happy, but you gotta hold up your end of the bargain."
Yeo-il, with a satisfied smile, gave a small nod and left Chwihyangwon.
Back in the carriage, Seol-yeong suddenly started flattering her.
"I know I'm late to the party, but... thanks, Miss."
"You can say that again."
"Haha. I just... I don't know. Every time I see this crazy, over-the-top place... I can't believe Sister Seol Seorin gets to be the boss here, protected by Hangryongmun, instead of having to deal with thugs on the street."
"The boss of Hangryongmun chose Seol Seorin because she's gorgeous and talented, not because of me."
Yes, beauty and talent are key. All I did was introduce Seol Seorin to the boss of Hangryongmun.
Chang-ah, who had been sitting with a sleepy face, stared blankly at Yeo-il.
"That place was wild... So many pretty ladies... I'm not dreaming, right?"
Yeo-il smiled softly and stroked her hair, and Chang-ah closed her eyes and drifted off again.
The next day, they arrived at their designated meeting place.
