Chapter 62: Green Jade Token
The phrase “buying at a low point” (低點買收) lodged itself firmly in Hwa Yeon-seol’s mind.
Having been raised as a merchant, it was not a phrase she could simply ignore.
The foundation of trade was to buy low and sell high.
There were three major methods to achieve that.
First, take advantage of regional price differences. This could range from small-scale peddling to massive cross-border trades between the Central Plains and the Outer Regions.
Second, enhance the value of raw goods through labor. Brewing wine, forging swords, or weaving clothes all fell under this category.
And lastly—
Find value where others had yet to discover it. The earlier, the better. Most of the renowned wealthy people across the land made their fortunes through this method.
A gleam sparked in Hwa Yeon-seol’s eyes as she looked at Jin Seong-un. Even in this situation, her eyes shone—proving once again that she was a born merchant.
Jin Seong-un, facing that gleam, cleared his throat. Now he realized why it felt familiar—those were the exact same eyes Wudang Sect Elder Hyeon-un had when looking at him.
“Ahem. I am not merchandise, Young Mistress.”
“Hahaha, I was just speaking figuratively.”
Seo Yu-gyeom laughed as though genuinely entertained.
Most people saw Jin Seong-un as a dry and stoic man, but to Seo Yu-gyeom, he was the funniest guy in the world.
Hwa Yeon-seol glanced at Seo Yu-gyeom with a slightly surprised look. She had never once seen that kind of laughter from him during her time at the Hwa-un Trading Company.
Soon, the three of them sat around the dining table.
Not long after, Jang Hong quietly crept down to the first floor and casually took the last empty seat.
Jin Seong-un and Seo Yu-gyeom merely glanced at him without objection. After all, Jang Hong was also a man who had staked his life on this situation.
Hwa Yeon-seol spoke.
“I’m Hwa Yeon-seol, the Master of Hwa-un Trading Company. I’m also Yu-gyeom’s former sister…”
Her tone shifted to a more respectful one as she addressed Jin Seong-un. Not that it mattered to him—he wasn’t the type to care about how others spoke. He simply nodded.
“I’m Jin Seong-un. The inn waiter and owner of Seong-un Inn in Yichang.”
Hwa Yeon-seol’s eyes widened like lanterns.
She had thought his behavior at the inn was naturally suited to that of a waiter, but to think he actually ran one…
“For reference, I’m also a cook.”
“Weren’t you an assassin earlier?”
“Former assassin, current cook.”
“……”
Hwa Yeon-seol felt a faint sense of vertigo.
On one side was a waiter who could massacre dozens of martial artists with a single sword, and on the other, a cook from the Deathshroud.
She had no idea what kind of bizarre combination this was, but Hwa Yeon-seol actually found it favorable. If he was living as a mere inn waiter, it meant there was a high chance others had yet to recognize his true value.
Of course, she had no way of knowing that the Wudang Sect, Tang Clan, Seomun Clan, and the House of Seok were all after Jin Seong-un.
Hwa Yeon-seol made up her mind.
Her feelings for Seo Yu-gyeom were not something to dwell on at the moment.
If the Hwa-un Trading Company—and she herself—wanted to survive, she had to join hands with Jin Seong-un.
Whether he would help her, or whether his help would even improve the situation, she didn’t know.
But it was the only option available, and so she had no choice but to stake everything on it.
“Sa Ryeong-geuk will use this incident as a pretext to summon the martial artists of the Heavenly Poison Alliance to Deyang.”
Hwa Yeon-seol said it with certainty.
Sa Ryeong-geuk had once mentioned wanting to bring in the Heavenly Poison Alliance’s elites.
At the time, it seemed he had postponed it due to opposition from the Master of Twilight Pavilion and the Valley Leader of Azure Wild Valley, but this incident would become the decisive turning point.
Jin Seong-un nodded calmly.
His dry reaction caught Hwa Yeon-seol slightly off guard.
“That’s it?”
“What can we do if they’re coming?”
Hwa Yeon-seol narrowed her eyes.
After a moment of silently observing Jin Seong-un, she arrived at a conclusion.
‘He’s not afraid of the Heavenly Poison Alliance.’
It wasn’t bravado—he truly didn’t seem to feel any fear at all.
While Hwa Yeon-seol was reeling internally, Seo Yu-gyeom chimed in.
“The arrival of the Heavenly Poison Alliance doesn’t just mean they’ll have stronger martial force.”
“And why is that?”
“Their methods are vile. It’s going to be a nasty fight.”
He then began explaining the tactics of the Heavenly Poison Alliance. It was a long explanation filled with various examples, but it could be summarized like this:
‘The Heavenly Poison Alliance isn’t a group that fights with pure martial strength.’
What must be remembered is that their opponents are the powerful orthodox factions of Sichuan: the Tang Clan, the Emei Sect, and the Qingcheng Sect.
If it were purely a matter of force, there was no way the Heavenly Poison Alliance could have survived.
And yet, they still exist.
They chose methods only available to the Unorthodox Path—harassing surroundings, using every filthy and despicable tactic available.
To the Orthodox Faction, they weren’t so much frightening as they were irritating and troublesome.
“For instance, they might go after the innkeeper of this Deyang Inn, or if they think they’ll lose a fight, they might just turn all of Deyang into a sea of fire. If they can’t have it, they’ll make sure their enemies can’t either—that’s the message they want to send.”
Jin Seong-un let out a small sigh.
Why was it that everything about the Unorthodox Path rubbed him the wrong way? Likely because his identity was that of an inn waiter.
By nature, inn waiters and the Unorthodox Path were incompatible.
After a brief moment of thought, Jin Seong-un turned his gaze to Jang Hong, who had remained silent throughout the conversation, his eyes rolling around nervously.
“W-what is it, Master?”
At some point, Jang Hong had adopted the speech of a loyal subordinate. That was his survival tactic.
“Can I ask you a favor?”
Jang Hong flinched hard.
The last time Jin Seong-un had asked him for a ‘favor,’ he was nearly killed while guiding him to the Four Dragons River Gang.
“You’re going to make me do something dangerous again, aren’t you?”
Suspicion filled Jang Hong’s eyes.
Jin Seong-un responded calmly.
“Quite the opposite. This will be the safest task yet.”
“…What is it?”
“Take this and go to Chengdu.”
Jin Seong-un pulled out a small jade token from his robes and handed it over. Jang Hong’s eyes bulged when he saw it.
The token bore the character “Tang” (唐).
The Tang Dynasty had long since disappeared into the annals of history, so in this era, that character could only mean one thing: the Tang Clan of Sichuan.
Many regarded the Tang Clan as the most fearsome martial group.
Even including the Demonic Cult and the Evil Sect, most still pointed to the Tang Clan.
The reason was simple and direct—their temperament was vile and vicious to the core.
At one time, the Tang Clan had been considered to stand between righteousness and evil, so faint was their association with the Orthodox Faction.
Those born and raised in Sichuan held an especially deep-seated fear of them.
Jang Hong’s hands began to tremble.
“Y-you want me to go to the Tang Clan?”
“Go and explain the situation. They’ll handle it. I understand you're nervous, but from what I’ve seen, the Tang Clan is quite affable.”
Seo Yu-gyeom, who was beside him, added,
“…That’s only how they are with you.”
Of course, Seo Yu-gyeom also agreed that seeking help from the Tang Clan was the most rational move under the circumstances.
Jang Hong trembled as he tucked the jade token into his robe.
There were only two options.
Refuse—or head to the Tang Clan.
There was a third option: pretend to go, then escape along the way. But that would mean making enemies of the Heavenly Poison Alliance, the Tang Clan, the Hwa-un Trading Company, Jin Seong-un, and Seo Yu-gyeom all at once—an utterly disastrous plan. He ruled it out.
After a moment of contemplation, Jang Hong let out a heavy sigh.
“…I’ll go. If you can spare me an ounce of silver, I’ll take a horse.”
Jin Seong-un handed him the silver.
Seo Yu-gyeom seemed uneasy about giving money to a thief, but there was no better alternative for now.
“Touching silver makes me feel a little better.”
Seo Yu-gyeom’s anxiety deepened.
Jang Hong rode straight toward Chengdu. It wasn’t far from Deyang.
Compared to Deyang, Chengdu was an enormous city. The streets were wider, the buildings packed tighter, and it bustled like the entire world had gathered there.
He was momentarily distracted, but quickly came to his senses, remembering the grave mission he had been entrusted with.
Finding the Tang Clan wasn’t difficult.
“Where’s the Tang Clan?”
Everyone in Chengdu could answer that question. Though, after answering, they would scurry away, eyeing him warily.
Thus, Jang Hong arrived at the Tang Clan. Though he held their jade token in his hand, he couldn’t shake his doubt the entire way.
‘Will the Tang Clan really act?’
It wasn’t some major alliance or benefit at stake—it was merely for an individual. A young man, no less. Would the Tang Clan move for that?
When he saw the Tang Clan’s main gate, Jang Hong immediately dismounted. Even though there was still distance left, he didn’t want to risk offending them in any way.
As he approached the gate, leading his horse, two green eyes turned toward him.
At that moment, Jang Hong felt as if a dagger had pierced him—every hair on his body stood on end.
The gatekeeper hadn’t done anything but stare.
Yet, because of the Tang Clan’s reputation and the fear instilled in Sichuan’s people, even that gaze felt like a sharp blade.
“Where are you from?”
The gatekeeper asked in a flat tone.
“I-I-I'm Jang Hong from Deyang. The one I serve… no, not exactly serve, but anyway, he’s a young man and his name is…”
Jang Hong stumbled through his words.
The gatekeeper clicked his tongue and cut him off.
“Just get to the point.”
“I’m sorry!”
Jang Hong bowed deeply.
The gatekeeper watched with some amusement. Though he knew people feared the Tang Clan, this one seemed especially timid.
“T-This…”
Jang Hong cautiously pulled out the jade token from his robe and handed it over. The gatekeeper took it absentmindedly, then flinched in shock once he saw what it was.
The Tang Clan had various types of gratitude tokens.
Even gratitude had ranks.
Naturally, the type of token determined whom you could meet and what kind of favor you could request in return.
The green jade token (綠玉牌) just handed over was the highest-ranked among them. It allowed one to meet the Clan Head, and the Tang Clan would repay such grace above all else.
There were only a few holders of the green jade token in the current generation—maybe three or four.
Among them, only one was young.
“Did the Honored Jin send you?”
Jang Hong’s eyes widened in shock.
Honored Jin could only refer to Jin Seong-un.
“Y-Yes, that’s right.”
“Whew! If he’s sending someone instead of coming himself, something major must’ve happened.”
With that, the gatekeeper suddenly grabbed Jang Hong’s arm and led him inside—or rather, dragged him.
Jang Hong, flapping like a paper doll, couldn’t resist at all as he was pulled into the Tang Clan.
.
.
.
Jang Hong felt as though he had climbed a towering mountain. In other words, it was hard to breathe.
“Explain.”
A heavy voice rumbled low.
In a vast chamber, Jang Hong stood awkwardly in the center like a criminal. Middle-aged men, fierce martial artists with green eyes, and a single young woman surrounded him with piercing stares.
The elders were the Clan Head and elders of the Tang Clan, the martial artists were Captains, and the young woman was the Young Mistress, Tang So-yeon.
Jang Hong was drenched in sweat, overwhelmed by their dagger-like gazes.
“T-The thing is… Recently, Honored Jin came to Deyang, and I was trying to pickpocket him when…”
He nearly choked.
He was so nervous he blurted out something he didn’t need to say.
The young woman suddenly stood up and shouted, “Let’s kill that man!”
Just as Jang Hong was about to prostrate himself, the middle-aged man sitting in the highest seat scolded her.
“Let him speak first.”
The head of the Tang Clan—Poison King Tang Tae-won.
One of the most dangerous men of the current generation, he gazed at Jang Hong calmly and continued,
“Start with the main point.”
“Y-Yes, sir!”
Jang Hong launched into his explanation. To everyone’s surprise, it was clear, concise, and completely free of fluff.
People often reveal strange abilities when faced with extreme danger. In his 27 years of life, this was the most articulate Jang Hong had ever been.
When he finished, silence fell over the chamber.
Jang Hong simply hunched his shoulders, awaiting their “verdict.”
But he had little hope. A group like the Tang Clan wouldn’t move so easily. Especially not when it involved clashing head-on with the dominant force of Sichuan’s Unorthodox Path—the Heavenly Poison Alliance.
Poison King rose from his seat.
Though his frame was small, his presence was enough to fill the massive chamber.
Then he spoke calmly to all present.
“Prepare yourselves.”
It wasn’t until the Poison King spoke again that Jang Hong finally understood the gravity of what he had nearly tried to steal from.
“If it comes to it, we’ll go to war with the Heavenly Poison Alliance.”
Gratitude and vengeance, returned tenfold.
That was the Tang Clan of Sichuan.