Chapter 119

Chapter 119
Chapter 119

Following their arrival at the Manmokbang in Huangshan, southern Anhui, where they successfully handed over their official commission, the carriage carrying Baek Yang-hui and Adu rolled smoothly along the spacious highway heading toward Zhejiang Province.

“Ehehehe.”

“Are you really that happy?”

“Yeah!”

Adu beamed from ear to ear, gently rubbing a compact wooden Buddha statue that rested comfortably in the palm of his hand.

If it brought him this much joy, he should have kept one on him right from the start, especially given the abundance of master carpenters dwelling around Songshan, the home of Shaolin.

“Getting all worked up over a single piece of carved wood. Don’t you know that everything originates from the mind? True peace depends entirely on the heart.”

With those words, Baek Yang-hui nonchalantly fingered an exquisite wooden carving of his own.

Nanchang served as the provincial capital of Jiangxi, and establishing grand commercial streets of that magnitude was no small feat. Naturally, the financial reward for their completed commission had been astronomical.

“May the god of fortune bless our house!”

“Come right in!”

“Entrust all your business to our primary branch, and we will fulfill every single request you have!”

They had spent two full days at Manmokbang ironing out the intricate details of the contract. Throughout that duration, Baek Yang-hui and Adu were treated like royalty. On top of that, Baek Yang-hui’s silver tongue had charmed the staff so thoroughly that they walked away with armloads of wooden carvings as complimentary gifts.

Had he known Adu would treasure a wooden trinket this much, he would have bought him one ages ago. He had previously pegged the fellow for a gluttonous monk who ignored scripture entirely, muttering meaningless chants of “Amitabha” whenever it suited him.

“Be straight with me. You’re just planning to pawn that little Buddha for rice cakes the moment you get hungry, aren’t you?”

“What?”

Although there was no true malice behind the teasing, his tone sounded rough, causing Adu to puff out his cheeks in indignation.

“Yang-hui. Do you want to go straight to hell? Keep talking like that, and you certainly will.”

“What kind of monk fails to save a single soul yet constantly warns everyone about damnation?”

“Believe, and blessings shall follow! Disbelieve, and eternal torment awaits! Hell! You’re bound straight for hell, Amitabha.”

“…You little punk.”

Trading lighthearted barbs and poking fun at Adu, they watched the days slip by seamlessly. Their carriage maintained its steady pace until it finally arrived in Hangzhou.

Hangzhou.

It was the capital of Zhejiang, the easternmost province nestled within the Central Plains. Locals frequently referred to it as paradise on earth. Adu’s eyes widened in sheer disbelief, and an involuntary gasp escaped his lips.

“Whoa!”

“Pretty dazzling sight, isn’t it?”

“Yeah! The buildings stretch all the way up to the clouds like mountains!”

Baek Yang-hui chuckled softly, admiring the whale-like pavilions packed tightly along the vibrant streets of Hangzhou. If Kaifeng stood as the grandest metropolis in the world, Hangzhou was easily its most flamboyant. Even legendary poets like Su Dongpo and Bai Juyi had immortalized its breathtaking scenery in verse.

“Food comes first. My stomach is starting to rumble.”

“Food! Yes!”

Now, which establishment should they choose to fill their bellies? During his past life, when he had visited Hangzhou… Ah, come to think of it, there was another valuable prize waiting to be claimed here.

A sly smile touched the corners of his lips as he raised his voice.

“You’ve finally made it to Hangzhou—our very first stop is West Lake! Let’s move!”

The West Lake was immense even when compared to the other vast bodies of water across the Central Plains, possessing an incomparable, peerless beauty. It remained the crowning jewel of Hangzhou. Baek Yang-hui guided their vehicle straight toward its scenic shores.

Flamboyant commercial avenues stretched out endlessly around them. As night fell, the entire district would blaze with light as brightly as midday.

“Young master! Are you feeling a bit peckish?”

“Come taste the culinary artistry of Hangzhou’s ten greatest chefs! Head over to Tian Sheng Lou!”

“Hey now! Feast your eyes before your stomach! Heavenly beauties are waiting for you inside… Ah, I see you have a monk traveling with you…”

The closer they drew to the West Lake, the more hawkers and errand boys swarmed their path. After all, this sector was the liveliest hub in all of Hangzhou.

“Young master! This way instead! Our Chu Xing Lou has plenty of dedicated carriage parking!”

He scanned the clingy crowd, letting his gaze drift past them toward the quieter peripheries. The touts possessed slick tongues, but Baek Yang-hui’s worldly experience ran far too deep to fall for their pitches.

“Hey kid. Is your stomach empty?”

A young beggar boy who had been hiding in the shadows sucking his thumb flinched violently at the unexpected voice.

“Y-Young master. I’m… I’m doing fine.”

Despite his words, his eyes remained glued to the lethal sword hanging from Baek Yang-hui’s belt. It made sense; the weapon was the only reason he hadn’t approached them to beg earlier.

“Fine? You look completely starved. Direct me to a quiet, unassuming inn that serves incredible food, and I’ll give you a full tael of silver.”

The boy’s eyes dilated to the size of saucers. One tael was equivalent to a full day’s wage for a grown adult—far too generous for a simple tip or act of charity.

“There are hawkers everywhere—why pick me out of everyone else?”

“Beggars always know where the true hidden gems are located.”

“That’s… fair. Alright, I know the exact place.”

“Lead the way. I’ve been craving Su Dongpo’s favorite delicacy, so take us to a proper Dongpo pork spot if you can!”

Dongpo pork—a dish of succulent, slow-braised pork belly named directly after the historical luminary Su Dongpo. Su Dongpo was celebrated as an elite member of the Eight Masters of the Tang and Song dynasties and stands out as one of the greatest literati in history. Naturally, his fame ensured that exceptional dishes bore his name.

The boy’s face lit up with sudden understanding.

“Ah. Dongpo pork? I know just the place you’re going to love!”

He guided them by running ahead of the carriage for roughly thirty minutes until they reached a modest, out-of-the-way inn tucked away near the shores of the West Lake.

“The Dongpo Inn. It’s a newly opened establishment—a hidden gem that most people haven’t discovered yet.”

This kid certainly possessed sharp instincts. Of all the places in the city, he had brought them straight to the Dongpo Inn.

“Thanks. But whether you get that silver depends entirely on the food. Care to eat with us?”

“Eh? A beggar dining inside a proper inn…? The chef is going to hate that.”

“An extra tip will smooth things over nicely.”

Without waiting for an argument, he hauled the flustered boy inside the doorway.

“Welcome! Oh, it’s the third brat?”

“Chef, I brought you a guest.”

“You’ve certainly earned your free meals today, kid. Have a seat, young master.”

The man running the kitchen looked far too young to be a veteran chef. A amused grin slipped across Baek Yang-hui’s face.

“Chef Su.”

“Huh? How did you know my surname is Su?”

“I could see the spirit of Su Dongpo written right across your face.”

“That is a high honor, haha. You’ve got a remarkably sharp eye, young sir.”

After ordering plates of signature Dongpo pork and a separate dish suited for Adu, he took a seat at a wooden table. The food arrived promptly, releasing a rich, mouthwatering aroma into the air.

“Mmm. This is the pinnacle of culinary heaven.”

With no other patrons inside the dining room, the watching chef beamed with uncontainable pride.

“Haha, my Dongpo pork is easily the finest in all of Hangzhou. My other recipes are top-tier, too. It completely baffles me why business has been so dismal.”

The problem was entirely location, Chef Su. The establishment was simply tucked too far out of the way.

“Kid. That recommendation was delectable—here is your promised tael.”

“Gasp! There’s no need for this. Having a full belly is more than enough payment.”

Baek Yang-hui forcefully shoved the piece of silver into the boy’s clenched fist anyway.

“A man’s word is his bond. Are you feeling embarrassed? Just spread the word around: the young master of the Baek Clan Manor from Jiangxi is a generous man.”

“Thank you! I’ll make sure everyone hears about it!”

“Chef, won’t you join us? We have plenty of wine to spare.”

“You really know how to make a man’s day, young master.”

Chef Su flashed a wide grin, pulled up a spare chair, and sat down with them.

“Are you gentlemen originally from Jiangxi?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, I hope Hangzhou’s local charms make the long trek worthwhile for you.”

“To an extent. We’re actually here on business: we’re planning to open a high-end brothel to entertain people with Hangzhou’s finest courtesans.”

“Ah.”

The beggar boy and Chef Su mirrored expressions of utter disbelief, as if silently thinking: *Good luck ever prying anyone away from the local establishments.*

“Do you happen to know any good connections? Introduce us, and there will be a handsome reward.”

“It’s not that I don’t know anyone, but…”

Right then, the small bell hanging above the inn’s front door chimed softly.

“Chef Su. I’m here to… Oh… it looks like you have other guests.”

As his eyes landed on her, an involuntary smile bloomed across his face. It was inevitable—here was someone whose very presence instantly brought joy upon sight, possessing a breathtaking beauty capable of melting any man’s emotional defenses.

So Sojeo. So she was already a regular patron of the Dongpo Inn.

So Wol-hyang: the true target of Baek Yang-hui’s journey to Hangzhou.

She looked over the eclectic group gathered at the table—him, Adu, the beggar boy, and the chef—with clear dismay.

“Welcome, Wol-hyang Sojeo.”

“Yes. It seems difficult to dine here in peace today. I shall return another time.”

He glanced back and forth between the troubled face of Chef Su and So Wol-hyang as she turned to leave. It would be much better if she stayed and joined them to break the ice. But if he asked her directly, she would likely mistake his intentions for crude flirting.

*—Adu. Invite her to sit down and eat.*

Adu, who was right in the middle of devouring a dumpling, blinked with innocent incomprehension.

“You want a dumpling?”

“Are you not hungry? Fine, goodbye then.”

Baek Yang-hui slapped a hand against his own forehead. Asking Adu to handle subtle social cues had been a foolish move.

“My apologies, Sojeo. The monk here is a simple man. Would you care to join us? I assure you I am not crass enough to be flirting with anyone in a place like this.”

She paused near the exit, hesitating for a brief moment before speaking in a soft tone.

“In that case… if I may, young master.”

Yang-hui had known she would normally shun strange men, but involving Adu had clinched the invitation. Or perhaps her craving for the Dongpo pork simply proved too strong to resist. In his past life, she had visited this exact spot every three days—which was precisely how he had known about the inn in the first place.

“Dig in.”

“Thank you. I will pay for my own portion.”

“No need. I’m flush with cash right now.”

“I cannot simply mooch off complete strangers.”

Mooch. Even back in his past life, she had utterly detested being indebted to anyone.

“Consider it repayment for Baek Musa’s prior favor. Please, sit.”

A fleeting look of wistful recognition crossed her features, prompting him to press forward.

“You really hate owing people anything, don’t you? Tell me about your background.”

“…Is this some sort of marriage proposal?”

“My trip to the West Lake is meant for leisure and brothel visits. Naturally, I was hoping to encounter someone of Sojeo’s caliber.”

She stiffened immediately, shooting a sharp glance toward Chef Su.

The chef scrambled backward, waving his hands frantically.

“No, Sojeo! I didn’t say a single word to him, I swear!”

Her gaze swung back to Baek Yang-hui. He casually raised his cup to meet her intense stare.

“The calluses on your fingertips tell me you are a skilled player of the gayageum. Your exceptionally graceful posture reveals you to be a master dancer. It wasn’t hard to guess.”

“…You are an astoundingly perceptive young master.”

“Well? Care to share a seat now?”

“I am not in the habit of sharing tables with strangers. Farewell.”

She turned quietly and walked toward the exit. It was entirely expected; she showed no signs of panic.

“No regrets?”

She halted mid-stride, turning her head back to shoot him an ice-cold glare.

“Regrets? Are you attempting to curse me?”

“You completely misunderstood my meaning. You happen to hold precisely what I am searching for.”

“Reading a mysterious stranger’s heart? You act as if you’re clairvoyant.”

A cold sneer accompanied her words. The doorway bell jingled sharply as the front door swung open, framing her retreating silhouette.

“Young master. Why did you have to provoke her like that?” Chef Su chided nervously, wearing an expression that suggested he was ready to throw them out if they didn’t pay immediately. His existing connection to So Wol-hyang explained his protective attitude.

Even so.

“It had to be done. No regulars are going to abandon you—calm down, chef.”

A conventional meeting wouldn’t cut it. In this case, an unconventional approach was essential. Someone with her proud personality would respond much more deeply to a bold, striking hook than to polite bows and pleasantries. Besides, he didn’t have the luxury of time for idle games. If he failed to address her underlying desires, the rest of his plans fell apart entirely.

There was no need to sweat it. He already possessed the right connections—the invisible threads that tied people together.

In this world, life was shaped by regional ties, blood ties, and school ties.

What about a master’s ties? They amounted to the same thing: sharing a common lineage under the same martial school.

Recalling the peculiar duo up on Gokyeolsan, a faint smirk formed on his lips.

—

“Damn it all.”

It was a faint whisper, tinier than the sound of crawling ants, yet it echoed with crystal clarity inside Eumhu’s sensitive ears.

“Seolha! Did you completely forget my lectures about keeping a clean mouth?”

Jeon Gal-seolha’s startled expression quickly melted away into an unabashed grin.

“Ahaha… you caught that?”

Eumhu blanked for a brief second before letting out a long, weary sigh.

“Sometimes I really wonder who you think your actual master is.”

“The Ten Heavenly Martial Lords! The master of the Sky-Splitting Voice!”

She delivered the brazen retort with a breezy, carefree attitude. Eumhu let out an even deeper sigh, then his thoughts drifted back to his lay disciple down below.

“That young hero certainly stirred up quite a storm down there…”