“Noble...! Why so suddenly...!”
Wi Chang burst through the door as if he were about to shatter it.
I sat alone in the room, fuming, and caught my breath when I saw Wi Chang.
No matter how much I thought about it, I was pissed.
I’d given the uncles money so they could go have some fun, and they treated them like thieves?
It’s true that the Beggars’ Sect values loyalty and righteousness above all, but like any group, they have their trash.
I knew some Beggars’ Sect members had sticky fingers since they lived without much.
So I could understand that perception.
But even a merchant shouldn’t act like that, let alone the head of a merchant house.
Wi Cheon-sang’s glare and attitude kept nagging at me, stirring me up.
Yeah, the engagement was going to fall through anyway. You walked right into it.
“I have a favor to ask, that’s why I called you.”
I told Wi Chang.
Wi Chang swallowed hard, closed the door, and sat down in front of me.
A pot of fragrant tea steamed gently before us, but I wasn’t in the mood to drink.
“As much as you need.”
Wi Chang sat with a resolute expression.
“I wanted to apologize for messing up last time. I’ve been agonizing over how to make amends, so this time, I’ll do whatever it takes to fix it.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Just say the word, Noble. I’ll do anything you ask.”
“Anything?”
Wi Chang nodded and said.
“Even any crime.”
“...”
Wi Chang’s gaze didn’t waver.
Only after seeing him like that did a sense of reality hit me.
Yeah, I’m really dealing with murim folk.
I’m getting tangled up with the kinds of people I tried to stay away from.
The one sitting in front of me wasn’t the righteous folks always around me.
This was pure evil faction.
One of the giant evil sects, no less.
Their martial prowess might not be the strongest, but no one ignores the Hao Gate’s influence.
And right now, that influence was exactly what I needed most.
“Bury Wi Cheon-sang for me.”
I said.
“...Wi Cheon-sang of the Shangping Merchant House?”
“Yes.”
“The one currently staying in the holy city?”
“Yes.”
Confusion spread across Wi Chang’s face.
“N-Noble... I-It’s possible, but... at least give me a reason... Otherwise, putting a hit on the head of a massive merchant house... there’ll be too many mouths I have to silence...”
“I’m not asking you to put a hit on him.”
Confusion turned to puzzlement.
“...Then?”
I leaned in slightly.
Wi Chang leaned in too.
“Brother Joo... no, Brother Wi.”
“Drop the formalities, Noble.”
“Brother Wi. Do you know Baek Sa-hyeon, the leader of the Sa-hon Gate?”
“If I didn’t know Baek Sa-hyeon, I couldn’t be the deputy head of the Hao Gate’s Sichuan branch. You mean that infamous public enemy of murim, known for his cruelty?”
“I hear he’s close with Wi Cheon-sang...”
.
.
.
Rumors about Wi Cheon-sang began spreading like wildfire in an instant.
“Did you hear? Wi Cheon-sang’s a real womanizer.”
“Last time, one of the women he raped even came forward! And he’s got three kids out of wedlock or something...”
“I heard he’s into men too?”
“Whew...”
I walked the streets, nodding my head.
Brother Wi Chang. You get things done right.
Doesn’t matter what else, you’ve got power here in the holy city.
I could get addicted to this influence.
The Beggars’ Sect doesn’t spread false rumors, which is why they hold back... but the Hao Gate spreads bullshit like nobody’s business. Perfect.
The more the rumors spread about Wi Cheon-sang, the more the Shangping Merchant House shrank back.
I hadn’t exactly hoped for these baseless rumors, but since I wanted him buried, it felt like extra service.
“...What the hell did you do?”
Gu Yeong Uncle clicked his tongue.
As a Beggars’ Sect member himself, he’d know this kind of rumor-spreading wasn’t normal.
“A young man everyone loved just yesterday, and now his reputation flips overnight.”
“What did I do? He was always like that. You saw how he treated us yesterday. If it leaks inside, it leaks outside too. It’s just finally showing.”
At that moment, Dang Soran, who was walking beside me with her face veil flipped back, grabbed my hand.
“...?”
I tried to pull away, but it wouldn’t budge.
“...What did you do?”
Dang Soran asked.
“Didn’t you just hear? I didn’t do-”
“-Liar.”
Her grip tightened.
“...You’re lying, Young Master.”
“...”
No need to repeat the lie.
Once you start something, see it through to the end.
It’s not ending with Wi Cheon-sang, right?
“...Anyway. Wi Cheon-sang’s about to have a rough time... Next up is Jegal Yong.”
“Huh?”
“Little Soran. Will you do as I asked?”
****
A few days later.
Dang Soran walked the streets of the holy city with her father, younger brother, and Jegal Yong.
“...I had a feeling something was off.”
Jegal Yong argued passionately beside Dang Soran.
“It’s still just premature rumors, but even the possibility...”
“Maybe.”
Jegal Yong was telling Dang Soran about the hot gossip scorching the holy city: Wi Cheon-sang.
Walking together, she could feel it clearly—Jegal Yong’s feelings for her ran deep.
But every time she sensed it, gratitude took a backseat to burden.
He didn’t even look that desperate.
Look at Han Seojin.
...Hard to even catch.
But when he grabs you, he grabs you for real...
‘Don’t get married, Soran.’
“...Ugh.”
Just thinking of those words made her heart race.
“...Miss Soran?”
“Oh, no, it’s nothing.”
From behind, Dang Jeokcheon chuckled softly.
“You two make a fine pair.”
“Hahaha, Clan Leader. Thank you.”
Jegal Yong welcomed the words gladly.
“By the way, Soran. Why did you want to stroll the streets?”
“If... we end up engaged, we’ll have moments like this often, right? Consider it practice.”
Jegal Yong swallowed hard.
“You’re right.”
Dang Jeokcheon nodded.
...He should be around here, right? Dang Soran glanced around.
He’s definitely supposed to be around here...
“...Beggars.”
Then Jegal Yong spoke first.
Dang Soran’s head snapped around.
“Hahahaha!!”
Sure enough, Han Seojin was there.
Squeezed in among the other beggars, laughing heartily.
That bold demeanor, handsome face, and massive build squeezed Dang Soran’s heart again.
He looked way better than the slender, pretty-boy-like Jegal Yong standing next to him.
Honestly, if you tidied up that shaggy hair again and dressed him in neat, expensive clothes like Jegal Yong’s, there probably wouldn’t be a handsomer man.
Jade Kirin or whatever... he might even get a nickname.
...Actually, she didn’t welcome that.
She wanted to hide that side from everyone.
She hoped he’d stay beggar-looking forever.
Showing that cool side... only during playtime would be perfect.
“That guy...”
Dang Jeokcheon whispered.
Seizing the moment while everyone’s attention was drawn, Dang Soran spoke.
“What’s he doing over there? Mind if I go take a look?”
“Go ahead.”
Jegal Yong took the lead too.
At that instant, Dang Jeokcheon grabbed Dang Soran’s arm.
And whispered in her ear.
“...That man’s dantian. What is that energy?”
“...”
You couldn’t fool the eyes of a peak mid-stage master.
Dang Soran said nothing and followed Jegal Yong toward the beggars.
The beggars jumped up politely as the murim folk approached.
“Oh dear! How did such esteemed guests come all the way here...!”
Gwak Du, now familiar to Dang Soran’s eyes, stepped forward.
“Keep doing what you were. It’s fine.”
Jegal Yong flashed his signature good-guy smile, calming everyone.
Even after Dang Jeokcheon waved from the back, the beggars sat back down.
Dang Soran met Han Seojin’s eyes.
Maybe it was her imagination, but he looked at her like she’d done well.
Dang Soran held back a smile threatening to escape.
At that moment, Jegal Yong reached for her hand.
This time too, Dang Soran dodged.
“Ahem... What were you up to?”
“Nothing special. Just playing around.”
“Beggars’ Sect playing... What’re the stakes...?”
“What stakes does a Beggars’ Sect member have to bet? Honor’s all we’ve got.”
“Haha. Honor’s good.”
Jegal Yong said that, but even Dang Soran could read the disdain in his eyes.
She wouldn’t call it bad, but Jegal Yong definitely had an air of chosen-people superiority.
The Jegal Family was clearly seen as superior to the Beggars’ Sect.
She wouldn’t have minded before, but now that superiority grated on her.
Because the one hanging with the Beggars’ Sect was Han Seojin.
Gwak Du asked.
“Care to join us, young hero?”
“Haha, sure, let’s-”
“-Hehey!!”
Then Han Seojin cut in.
“No, Uncle. You think these high-and-mighty folks would play our lowly games? What’re you even asking?”
“Is that so?”
“Of course! Our dumb games aren’t for proper folk like them.”
The Beggars’ Sect beggars burst into laughter at his words.
‘Yeah! Our games are kinda dumb.’
‘Brother Gwak Du, what the heck are you asking!’
But Jegal Yong glanced at Dang Soran, then raised his voice.
“I can’t let that slide. Proper folk can’t play, you say?”
Han Seojin blinked at Jegal Yong.
“...Hey, it was a joke. Don’t take it so seriously.”
“No, even as a joke, I won’t overlook the contempt underneath.”
“What contempt did I show?”
“If you think the Jegal Family is some prim, stuffy bunch, you’re mistaken.”
Han Seojin eyed Jegal Yong up and down impassively.
There was provocation in his gaze.
Stung by it, Jegal Yong retorted first.
“Don’t tell me you’re unaware our family has fought in great wars for generations?”
“I know that, but... well...”
After a brief silence that made the mood heavier, Han Seojin murmured lowly.
“Then how about a match with me?”
Jegal Yong seemed clearly offended too.
He smirked and said.
“You think the Jegal Family can’t even fight? Just a big lug throwing his weight around. Fine, come at me. I’ll teach you some manners today.”
Han Seojin waved it off.
“Hehey... How could I fight Young Master Jegal? It’s obvious I’d lose.”
“Isn’t that something a guy who was just calling us proper folk shouldn’t say? Scared now?”
“No, how could I beat a murim man? It’s about fairness, right? You said it’s a game with honor on the line, but you’re tilting it in your favor. What honor do you prove by beating a guy who can’t fight?”
Dang Ji-un, watching from behind, smiled and said.
“He’s got a point.”
When Jegal Yong frowned at him, he defended.
“Hey, it’s not wrong. How’s a beggar gonna beat Brother Jegal?”
Dang Soran nodded too.
“Yeah, true.”
Only after Dang Soran nodded did Jegal Yong change his tune.
“...So?”
Throughout all this, Dang Jeokcheon stayed silent.
Dang Soran was grateful to her father just for that.
He clearly knew it was some scheme, but he stayed quiet.
Han Seojin pushed through the beggars and stepped forward.
He sat at the small, shabby table prepared in front.
Jegal Yong folded his fan and took a seat with elegant poise as well.
Han Seojin said.
“How about a round of cricket tag?”