Chapter 52 : Clear Night

Chapter 52: Clear NightHwa Yeon-seol.

At only twenty-six years of age, she had become the master of one of the Ten Great Trading Companies under Heaven.

From the highest floor of the towering main hall, she overlooked the vast estate of the Hwa-un Trading Company.

Though she held a trading company so great that it ranked among the ten largest in the world, her expression was lonelier and emptier than that of any beggar.

Countless people came and went through the enormous front gate.

Where merchants once tread, martial artists of the Unorthodox Faction now strode in and out as if it were their own home.

The merchants and scholars who truly kept the Hwa-un Trading Company running now spent all their time trying not to draw the eyes of those unorthodox warriors.

Her sunken gaze lingered on the scene as she bit down hard on her lips. Her rosy lips turned pale, yet she felt no pain.

“What went wrong.”

Her whisper scattered into the air.

The fate of the Hwa-un Trading Company had already slipped from her grasp. From the day her father died, her destiny and that of the trading company had been sealed.

Hwa Yeon-seol recalled the face of one man.

His deep, black eyes, contrasting with his pale skin, were so intense that she could never forget them.

He was also the one who betrayed their benefaction, killed her father, and fled.

‘Seo Yu-gyeom.’

She had never forgotten that name, not even for a single day.

At that moment, a presence stirred outside.

“Master of the Trading Company, may I enter?”

“Come in.”

With permission granted, the door opened, and an old man, who looked well past sixty, entered and bowed respectfully.

He was Ho Yeon-baek, the Chief Steward of the Hwa-un Trading Company.

In the company now filled with nothing but trash, he was the only one she could still trust.

“How did it go?”

At her question, the old man’s face twisted into a troubled expression. She sighed deeply.

They sat facing each other across a low table. After a moment of hesitation, Ho Yeon-baek spoke in a heavy tone.

“The Mount Hua Sect and the Kunlun Sect have also refused. Mount Hua said they would try to persuade the Alliance Leader, while Kunlun claimed the distance was too great a burden.”

Hwa Yeon-seol’s eyes grew empty.

Their claim that they would persuade the Alliance Leader was nothing but empty words. The Murim Alliance had already decided not to aid the Hwa-un Trading Company.

The refusal from the Kunlun Sect was no different. It was true their main sect was in Qinghai, but she knew well they had branches spread all across the Central Plains.

Rejection had become all too familiar.

At first, it was the sects of Sichuan: the Emei Sect, the Qingcheng Sect, and even the Tang Clan.

Afterward, it was the Murim Alliance and the Wudang Sect in Hubei, and the Zhuge Clan.

Then the Zhongnan Sect of Shaanxi, and the Namgung Clan of Anhui.

She had begged countless sects and clans, promising great rewards, yet every single one of them had refused.

The problem lay with the Heavenly Poison Alliance.

As the rulers of the Unorthodox Faction in Sichuan, they were fierce and savage, unmatched by any other unorthodox force in any province.

The very fact that they had risen to power in Sichuan, the home of the Tang Clan, spoke volumes.

The Orthodox Faction had no reason to clash with the Heavenly Poison Alliance. The Hwa-un Trading Company had spent decades dealing more with the Unorthodox than the Orthodox anyway.

And it wasn’t as if they could seek help from the Unorthodox either. Even the Unorthodox avoided the Heavenly Poison Alliance.

“…If Father were still alive.”

“Things would be different. He knew how to handle the Unorthodox.”

“…”

Darkness clouded her eyes.

The steward’s words sounded like rebuke.

Was he saying the Unorthodox dared to rise up only because she was too lacking? Thɪs chapter is updatᴇd by N0v3l.Fiɾe.net

He was not wrong. She could not handle the Unorthodox. It was not a matter of business acumen. In that regard, she was nearly as capable as her father.

But such was the nature of the Unorthodox: if they sensed weakness, they would bite and tear.

“This is not your fault, Mistress. It was not even the fault of the previous Master of the Trading Company. There is no reason to assign blame now, but if one must, then it is his fault.”

“Seo Yu-gyeom.”

“We will no longer use that name. By now, he must be living under another, starting a new life.”

At those words, a faint anger flickered in Hwa Yeon-seol’s eyes. The thought that the man who had destroyed the Hwa-un Trading Company was living a new life filled her with rage.

At first, she had searched for reasons. Why had he killed her father and fled? Her father had taken in that orphan, raised him, and taught him.

The answer was soon revealed. The steward had learned that he was the Heaven-Slaying Star.

He had simply killed him.

Those born under the Heaven-Slaying Star were said to be unable to resist killing.

“What about Deathshroud?”

“No reply yet.”

“They still tell us to wait?”

“They don’t even say that anymore.”

For years, she had sent requests to Deathshroud, the organization that claimed there was no one under heaven they could not kill. Yet strangely, they had not even been able to find him.

A brief silence followed.

Ho Yeon-baek then pulled out some Forget-Me-Not Grass from his robe. He was one of the few allowed to smoke it in front of her.

White smoke drifted gently over the table.

“Young Mistress.”

Hwa Yeon-seol’s eyes widened. Since she had become Master of the Trading Company, he had never called her that.

His words continued.

“There is no turning back now.”

“…”

“Through the Unorthodox in Deyang, the Hwa-un Trading Company will be completely swallowed by the Heavenly Poison Alliance. In the process, both you and I will die. We are obstacles.”

Fear flickered in her eyes.

The steward exhaled another puff of smoke before continuing.

“I have been with the previous Master since the founding of the Hwa-un Trading Company. I was his friend, his comrade, and no different from family.”

“…”

“So I thought: if we are bound to lose the Trading Company, shouldn’t we at least relieve the late Master of his grievance?”

With those words, the steward pulled out a document and laid it on the table.

Hwa Yeon-seol’s eyes widened.

“My apologies, Young Mistress. This is the limit of my ability.”

The document was long and complicated, but to someone who had lived her life in the trading world, its essence was immediately clear.

First, the Heavenly Poison Alliance would, by any means necessary, find and kill the one who murdered the late Master Hwa Yun-tak and fled.

Second, a business on the scale of an escort agency would be separated from the Hwa-un Trading Company and operated solely under Hwa Yeon-seol’s name.

Third, if the above two conditions were fulfilled, the Hwa-un Trading Company would belong to the Heavenly Poison Alliance.

“What is this…”

“It cannot be avoided. At the very least, we must secure some share. We are merchants, are we not?”

“…”

“This old man no longer has any regrets even if he dies now. But young mistress, you must live. We must avenge the resentment of the former Trading Company Master!”

For once, Ho Yeon-baek raised his voice before Hwa Yeon-seol. His voice carried both his worry for her and his anger over Hwa Yun-tak’s death.

Hwa Yeon-seol could not speak for a moment. Ho Yeon-baek, one of the most capable chief stewards in the world, had made such a decision. Even in his eyes, there was no way to overcome this situation.

Even so, Ho Yeon-baek was desperately trying to save and protect Hwa Yeon-seol.

“...Just one day, I’ll think it over for one more day.”

“The Black Path of Deyang will soon move to end it once and for all. So you must decide by tomorrow morning at the latest. I will personally carry the document stamped with the Trading Company Master’s seal to the Heavenly Poison Alliance.”

It was a matter of life and death.

Yet Ho Yeon-baek’s eyes were filled with sharp determination.

To Hwa Yeon-seol, it felt like terminal lucidity, and it made her uneasy.

“...Understood.”

When she finally answered, Ho Yeon-baek responded with a gentle smile.

“Then I shall take my leave. Call for me once the decision is made.”

Ho Yeon-baek rose from his seat and left the office.

Hwa Yeon-seol only gazed for a moment at the Forget-Me-Not Grass he had left behind on the desk.

“I told you, there’s no time.”

At Jin Seong-un’s question, Seo Yu-gyeom nodded.

The Lord of Four Dragons River Gang had clearly said so before dying.

The Hwa-un Trading Company would be finished within half a month.

In the dim night, Jin Seong-un walked quietly down a deserted street. After a brief glance up at the sky, he asked,

“Have you still not decided?”

“Why not just let it fall? What’s it to me? You saw the ledger. The Hwa-un Trading Company was garbage. I only killed the man who deserved it. That daughter and the company are just paying for the sins of their former master.”

“True words. But I am not asking about right or wrong, nor about duty. I am asking about your heart. If the Hwa-un Trading Company collapses, and the current Trading Company Master dies, how will you feel?”

Seo Yu-gyeom could not answer easily.

He would not feel great guilt. Yet deep inside, he realized that the endless killing intent rising within him was connected to his past with the Hwa-un Trading Company.

When it was too late to undo anything—when the Hwa-un Trading Company and she were already gone from the world—he could not predict how his heart would feel.

Watching Seo Yu-gyeom’s expression, Jin Seong-un shifted the question.

“What is the current Trading Company Master to you?”

“She is my sister.”

“Then let’s go.”

Seo Yu-gyeom widened his eyes and looked at Jin Seong-un. But Jin Seong-un spoke in a tone as if it were nothing complicated.

“Someone I know well once said this: creating an environment where employees can focus on their work is also a merchant’s duty. Now, I must fulfill that duty.”

“Am I just an employee then?”

“You’re not the owner, are you?”

Saying this, Jin Seong-un leapt into motion. Seo Yu-gyeom, left standing there alone, scratched his head.

“Where does he keep learning to say things like that?”

From the Martial God Realm, from the Martial Gods themselves.

But with no way of knowing this, Seo Yu-gyeom smacked his lips and soon followed after Jin Seong-un.

It was a quiet and solemn night.

The two of them stood atop a high wall, their figures lofty. The only difference from usual was that they were covered head to toe in black garments.

“What’s the plan?”

Seo Yu-gyeom asked.

He had been going along with Jin Seong-un’s lead, but by now he was curious about what he was thinking.

“First, we need to buy time, don’t we?”

“Well, that’s true, but...”

Jin Seong-un let out a low chuckle. Seo Yu-gyeom gave him a look as though he were seeing something strange.

Regardless, Jin Seong-un recalled the Merchant King’s advice—that the Black Path could not even trust one another, and that was the weakness to exploit.

So here they were.

At this hour, in this attire, with that smile...

“We are assassins now.”

“Again? Do you know how hard I struggled to escape last time?”

“...Not Deathshroud assassins. Assassins of Azure Wild Valley.”

A flash of intensity crossed Seo Yu-gyeom’s eyes.

The meaning of Jin Seong-un’s words was clear.

Azure Wild Valley was one of the Four Great Black Path Gangs of Deyang. And where they stood now was also one of those four—the Dark Sun Sect.

He remembered the Lord of Four Dragons River Gang’s evaluation of the Black Path of Deyang.

His words about Dark Sun Sect had been especially long.

‘Ignorant, simple, uncivilized, hateful of thinking, and filled only with rage—those are the apostate monks of Mukyang.’

At the time, the scorn had been so strong that it felt like exaggeration. But now, standing atop the wall, Seo Yu-gyeom thought it might have been fair criticism grounded in truth.

“...Look at that, they even set the banner upside down.”

“Perfect.”

Jin Seong-un chuckled again.

Seo Yu-gyeom looked at him in exasperation.

No matter what, Jin Seong-un silently drew a pitch-black blade of the type assassins would use and spoke.

“It is a Clear Night indeed.”