Part 15 - Family
To Jeong-a, the Steward's Office Chief was a man no different from a father.
Jeong-a had lost her father early in childhood, and when she came to the Luoyang Sword Clan, she also severed ties with what little blood family she had left.
The Steward's Office Chief taught her and guided her with all his heart.
No matter how outstanding she was, she was still human—she made plenty of mistakes, and she'd caused a few incidents, too.
Each time, the Steward's Office Chief sheltered her, and always helped her walk the right path.
If he hadn't been there, Jeong-a was certain she would have been swallowed by the raging current called the Luoyang Sword Clan and vanished.
In that vast organization, he was the only person Jeong-a could trust.
And yet the report he had sent to the First Young Master—and the story contained at its very end—was something that left her no choice but to suffer a tremendous shock.
"If she cannot abandon her inborn disposition, and tries to bargain with the First Young Master…"
Her father—her father figure—was advising the First Young Master to kill her and dispose of her if she didn't seem useful.
Her legs buckled, strength drained from her entire body, and she collapsed.
Her face went deathly pale, and her hands began to tremble.
"Ugh—!"
Clutching the railing, she vomited onto the dirt ground.
Even after emptying everything inside her, she retched dryly for a long while.
When the retching finally subsided, she pulled out a handkerchief with fingers still trembling.
She wiped her face, a mess of tears and snot.
Even as she wiped, fresh tears kept spilling out, and sobs threatened to leak from between her clenched teeth.
She took a deep breath and forced herself to steady.
Her tightly clenched fist had no color left in it.
"…Do you understand why I showed you that report?"
Yeon Sang-hyeon's voice was as languid as before.
But Jeong-a felt a cold darkness flowing in the depths of that voice.
"…Yes, First Young Master."
She straightened her posture, turned toward Yeon Sang-hyeon, and bowed her head.
"What's contained in this report is the Steward's Office Chief's loyalty. I dare presume that the First Young Master showed me this so that I might understand what that true loyalty is."
Even a child who was no different from blood family became nothing before one's lord.
"Loyalty…."
Leaning back comfortably, Yeon Sang-hyeon gazed up at the ceiling.
"I call it madness."
How else could you explain something that made a man throw away even his own child?
Jeong-a lowered her head deeply.
"Ordinarily, that may be so."
She continued, her voice no longer shaking.
"But if it is here—at the very center of the Luoyang Sword Clan, called the greatest clan under heaven, where every scheme and every desire for power ultimately converges…"
She became acutely aware again of where she stood.
Again, she confirmed the reality of her situation.
"This is loyalty."
Yeon Sang-hyeon lowered his gaze and looked at Jeong-a slowly.
"…Even so, if I were to accept you, would you still wish to devote your loyalty?"
Jeong-a smiled.
That smile was beautiful and radiant, like a flower blooming beneath bright sunlight after the rain had cleared.
"No."
She prostrated herself and pressed her forehead to the floor.
"Whether to accept me or not is entirely the master's prerogative. I merely serve my master with loyalty."
Yeon Sang-hyeon sensed that the flower called Jeong-a had bloomed wide.
That flower held a thick, heady fragrance.
The fragrance known as madness.
"The First Young Master is my one and only master."
Yeon Sang-hyeon smiled.
It was a thoroughly satisfying answer.
***
Night at Wongakjeong was quiet and peaceful as always.
When the wind brushed past, petals of every color scattered and danced in the air.
It was thanks to the formation surrounding Wongakjeong, which kept the temperature relatively warm.
Jeong-a lit the oil lamp that had been set out, sat near the brazier, and continued her story.
"…And so, in an instant, the merchant group of our household—once so harmonious—collapsed."
"Infernal Loan and misfortune, huh…."
Yeon Sang-hyeon still held a book in his hand, but from time to time he asked questions and listened to her.
"Yes, that is so. My older sister, who had an abundance of talent for commerce, played her trump cards against Father again and again, but once the misfortunes piled up, there was nothing to be done."
"Even if she was your older sister, she couldn't have been that much older than you. She was involved in running the merchant group?"
Jeong-a wetted her throat with a sip of liquor and answered.
"My sister is truly an incredible person. Since childhood she was practically the pride of our family—and even now, she is my pride."
Her older sister, like Jeong-a, had been sold off to some clan, but through sheer ability, she quickly bought herself back.
"She is in Luoyang now, working as an information merchant. It seems she's found her footing and is making a name for herself."
From the way Jeong-a spoke, it was more than clear how proud she was of her sister.
"…And according to the letter my sister sent some time ago, she said she found the culprit behind the misfortunes that struck our family."
Her face darkened.
"That culprit was none other than the very man who made us use Infernal Loan."
The hand holding her cup tightened.
"I still can't forget it. That greasy face and bloated body… that bastard called 'Geumjil' who ruined our family…"
Yeon Sang-hyeon's eyebrows shot up.
"Geumjil?"
Jeong-a looked at him with puzzled eyes.
"Yes—certainly that was the name. I don't think it was his real name, but I remember everyone called him that. Is it a name you recognize, my master?"
Instead of answering, Yeon Sang-hyeon turned his head and looked into the distance.
"Geumjil…."
In his mind, last night's memory surfaced.
***
"Sir! Thank you! Thank you!"
"Enough with the thanks—just guide me properly."
"Th-this way!"
Even as he limped, the middle-aged man somehow managed to lead Yeon Sang-hyeon, despite his body being in no condition to do so.
He was none other than the very middle-aged man Yeon Sang-hyeon had seen being beaten by the men he'd captured.
"If you save my family, I'll never forget this kindness even after I die! I'll repay you—if not, then my descendants will!"
He bowed and thanked Yeon Sang-hyeon repeatedly, then immediately clung to him, begging him to help his family.
"I know it's shameless to ask, but please—I beg you!"
"…Fine. Just lead the way."
He fell down again and again, but every time Yeon Sang-hyeon tried to help him, he refused, got back up, and kept guiding him onward.
"Over there—this way!"
Before long, his shop—which was also his home—came into view.
Under the dim moonlight, the shop was in complete shambles.
"Oh no—wife! Wife!"
The middle-aged man panicked at the sight and rushed into the courtyard.
"Husband?! What on earth happened here?!"
"Father!"
The vivid sounds of a heated family reunion drifted out from the courtyard.
With a small sigh, Yeon Sang-hyeon was stepping inside when something crunched under his foot.
"…A mask?"
Everything scattered across the wrecked shop was a mask.
There were masks used at weddings, and masks hung up in hopes of bringing blessings to a household.
"So he was a mask artisan."
When Yeon Sang-hyeon stepped into the courtyard, he saw a family clinging to one another and sobbing.
"Sir…!"
As soon as the mask artisan saw him, he threw himself at Yeon Sang-hyeon's feet and performed a long, deep bow.
But perhaps misunderstanding something from the sight, the man's wife dropped to her knees before Yeon Sang-hyeon and began to beg.
"Sir, please! We'll repay the interest soon, so please forgive my husband just this once! If his limbs aren't intact, how can he earn money to repay you?!"
And then she broke down, wailing on the spot.
"No, I—"
Before Yeon Sang-hyeon could even say a word, the children rushed out too, grabbing at his pant legs.
"Please spare our father! He did wrong! Please—just forgive him once!"
They even rolled around on the ground in desperation.
"No, you fools! This sir isn't that kind of 'sir'! He's the one who saved my life!"
It seemed that the mask artisan usually called the people who came to collect debts "sir".
After he hurriedly brought his family under control, the wife and children rose awkwardly—and then, without giving Yeon Sang-hyeon any chance to speak, they began bowing deeply again.
"Sir, thank you!"
"Thank you!"
At the chaotic yet perfectly synchronized scene, Yeon Sang-hyeon finally let out a helpless chuckle.
***
"It's shabby, but please sit here for a moment."
Guiding Yeon Sang-hyeon into the inner room, the mask artisan seated him in the warmest place and stirred the brazier to revive the flames.
Then, while his wife went to bring hot water, he rummaged through the depths of a wardrobe and brought out a small jar he'd hidden away.
"Tea leaves. They're nothing but cheap stuff, so I worry I'll only ruin your palate, sir…"
"It's fine. Put it away."
It wasn't even the common grain teas people drank—it was tea leaves, an outrageously expensive luxury.
The mask artisan called it cheap, but any tea leaves were costly enough to make one gape, all the same.
"How could I do that?"
Before Yeon Sang-hyeon could stop him, he poured every last leaf from the jar into Yeon Sang-hyeon's cup and filled it with hot water.
Next, the children came in carrying wooden bowls filled with snacks.
They placed the bowls on Yeon Sang-hyeon's table as respectfully as they could, then retreated and knelt on the floor.
Then the mask artisan and his wife also knelt in front of the children.
"Sir, thank you!"
"Thank you!"
As if there was no helping it, Yeon Sang-hyeon shook his head and lifted the teacup with elegant composure.
"…Good tea."
At his praise, the children—who looked about six or seven—brightened and smiled widely.
"How could we ever repay a kindness as deep as the sea…!"
Yeon Sang-hyeon raised a hand and stopped the mask artisan.
"That's enough. I didn't do it expecting anything."
"But, sir…!"
"More importantly."
Yeon Sang-hyeon set the cup down.
"Who was it that oppressed you and trashed this place?"
The mask artisan bowed his head low and replied.
"…I believe they were people who made a contract with the Black Bone Sect."
"The Black Bone Sect?"
The mask artisan began to carefully explain what he knew.
"Yes, sir. The Black Bone Sect is a dreadful gang of criminals led by a woman called 'Geumju', who is known as the daughter of a man called 'Geumjil'."
Geumjil—and Geumju, said to be his daughter.
"The Black Bone Sect moves in Geumjil's stead. From loan-sharking to gambling dens, if there's a smell of money, there isn't a place they don't stick their noses into. They're an enormous organization."
"Why did you go to the gambling den?"
The mask artisan slammed his forehead to the floor and answered.
"That's their method, sir!"
"Method?"
As if pouring out all the resentment he'd been gathering, the mask artisan spoke.
"Yes, sir! Since the law strictly limits interest rates on private loans, they force those who took loans to participate in gambling and use it to increase the debt!"
"Ha…."
Yeon Sang-hyeon let out a bitter smile.
Luoyang's interest-rate limits were one of his father's past achievements, accomplished in coordination with the government office.
And the one who had first investigated the law, studied it, and shaped it into concrete terms—was none other than Yeon Sang-hyeon himself, back when he was a child.