Chapter 181

Chapter 181
—
**Chapter 181: Worth in Silk**

“No? It was all a lie.”

“No? It was all a lie.”

“No? It was all a lie.”

That reply—innocent enough to sound nearly childlike—rang through Dang Gun’s mind as clearly as a tolling bell.

Dang Gun fought the urge to press a hand to his forehead and sigh. Too many eyes were watching; he could not let such frustration show on his face.

*Ami, Cheongseong, and even Jeomchang.*

Every one of these orthodox sects held the Tang Clan in a tight grip—powers the Tang could never afford to treat lightly.

This was simply… utterly ridiculous.

*I let him join this journey because I thought I’d been pushing him far too hard lately…*

Whatever guilt he had felt earlier for pressing the Tang Clan’s daughters on Baek Yang-hui vanished in an instant.

They had only been gone two days. How could such a massive mistake have happened already?

All at once, it made perfect sense why Baek Clan Head Baek Mu-ryang had sent him all the way to the Tang Clan.

*Clan Head Baek… so this is exactly how he felt every time Hui pulled something outrageous…*

True, his young companion was sharp as a shadow—there had to be some careful plan behind all this. Even so… did it really have to unfold like this? He could not shake the thought.

—Dang hyung. Keep your expression steady. You must maintain control. In any game of chance, mastering your bearing is the most vital skill of all.

*This is no gambling table!*

Paying no mind to Dang Gun’s silent outcry, Baek Yang-hui grinned and spoke up again, his voice carrying across the room.

“As you have all seen, the Tang Clan stands as guarantee for this young master’s identity! And so I make this declaration here and now: speaking in the name of the Tang Clan, I can state with certainty that Lord Jin’s illness can be cured—immediately!”

Dozens of physicians exchanged glances and murmured among themselves; the onlookers buzzed with rising excitement.

Louder than all of it rang Dang Gun’s own urgent voice, sent directly to his companion.

—Hui! Hui! I never gave any such guarantee! Not once! Hui!

—Just trust me, Dang hyung.

—How am I supposed to trust you when you won’t share a single detail?

*Tch. After all his constant pressure to bind our families together by any means, he ought to grant me this much leeway.*

Of course, should all this bring harm to the Tang Clan, he might well have to take responsibility and actually become their son-in-law. Yet in the end, he was certain this would all turn to their great advantage. Think of it as nothing more than a bit of bold mischief—nothing to fret over.

“Young Clan Leader, I ask this in the joint names of the Tang Clan and the Baek Clan: will you permit me to treat Lord Jin?”

At that very moment, Nang O stepped forward with graceful poise, pressing his fists together in formal salute.

“It appears disciples from the governing martial clans of Sichuan have all chanced to gather here. It has been far too long, Tang Young Clan Leader.”

After exchanging proper greetings with Dang Gun, Nang O turned and called out once more. His words were directed at the Young Clan Leader, yet loud enough for every person present to hear clearly.

“Young Clan Leader, this assembly was convened to select the Sacred Hand Divine Physician’s disciple through a contest of healing skill. Yet Young Master Baek has laid before us a most fascinating proposal. What say you to this?”

Nang O spoke with a face that remained perfectly composed—not truly blank, yet revealing little: corners of the mouth lifted just so, eyes soft and welcoming, an expression shaped deliberately to win others over.

“Truly, debating how to treat my father at this very moment does seem absurd.”

“I knew you would feel that way, Young Clan Leader—hahaha! Yet is it not intriguing? One man bears endorsement from Jeomchang, while another carries the word of the Tang Clan—and now they shall contend for the position of Sacred Hand Divine Physician’s chosen successor!”

He spoke as though he found it all great sport, though from the Tang Clan’s perspective, their position only grew more uncomfortable by the moment.

*Hui… how do you intend to fix this mess you have made…?*

Fix it? Why should there be any need? Simply guide matters so that nothing needs fixing at all.

“I see things quite differently,” Baek Yang-hui declared, sweeping his gaze across the crowd and lifting his voice still further.

“Healing is an art born of compassion! My skills exist to save lives! Is this truly the wrong moment to speak of treatment? I say you are mistaken! From the very start, this gathering has been about nothing else!”

Who would eventually become Sacred Hand Divine Physician’s disciple mattered very little. Neither candidate was the genuine article, in any case. Far better to turn everyone’s full attention to the illness itself.

“Let me be perfectly clear: I can cure Lord Jin without delay. Little Divine Physician—surely you can do the same, can you not?”

The Little Divine Physician could not match Baek Yang-hui’s fearless confidence. “Naturally… given sufficient time to address and ease his symptoms—”

It was the vague sort of answer any healer might offer. Standing in such sharp contrast to Baek Yang-hui’s unflinching promise, the crowd naturally leaned toward placing their faith in his bold words instead.

“Young Clan Leader! For your father’s sake—make your decision now!”

“We require more time to deliberate—”

“Every moment you delay, Lord Jin’s condition grows worse! I offer ten days! If I cannot cure him within that time, I shall stake my very life upon the outcome!”

Dang Gun watched in silence as Baek Yang-hui spoke with such fervent conviction. When they first arrived at the Jin estate, all this had seemed merely baffling. Now, a deeper unease settled over him.

The Baek Yang-hui he knew always stood firm in his convictions, yet never imposed his will nor carried himself with such arrogance. This was different—reminding him of the day he faced the Blood Cult’s demon lord within Geomwang Fortress.

*Is something hidden beneath all this?*

The Myeonggeum Syndrome had always seemed rife with suspicious details: appearing without warning, striking primarily among the wealthy. Could this be part of some larger plot?

—Hui… did you sense any trace of unorthodox or demonic influence at work?

—Precisely.

Baek Yang-hui answered with a quick, knowing smirk. *Dang hyung truly has the makings of a great clan leader.*

At first, he had planned simply to treat Jin Yeong-gil and secure some advantage for himself. Now his entire focus had shifted—for he had identified the true source of Myeonggeum Syndrome: myeonggi, bright energy.

*Just as I suspected. Those curs from the Bright Cult have been skulking about, much like the Blood Cult.*

Ilwol Myeonggyo—one of the three great pillars of the Four Demonic Lands. He had caught the scent of their trail.

—

Following heated words and sharp exchanges, the assembly was brought to a temporary close. With both Jeomchang and the Tang Clan having stepped forward as sponsors, prolonging the debate would serve no purpose beyond endless argument.

“Hui… you owe me a full account. Every last detail.”

Baek Yang-hui closed his eyes before answering, the whirlwind of events leaving him needing a moment to gather his own thoughts.

*Myeonggeum Syndrome is without question a plague born of the Bright Cult.*

He had felt it clearly—demonic energy, myeonggi—lingering within Jin Yeong-gil’s body. Usually such power called to mind darkness, shadows, spilled blood, madness… and in that sense, the Bright Cult’s myeonggi felt strangely out of step.

Myeonggi—literally, bright energy. A demonic cult whose very power bore the name of light? It seemed absurd, until one stopped to consider: what truly defined demonic or ghostly qi, in the end? Nothing more than corrupted force that defied the natural order. Measured by that standard, the Bright Cult’s myeonggi was undeniably of the dark.

*I never detected it in my past life when treating this illness… yet now it stands beyond doubt.* During the wars against the Four Demonic Lands, he had grown all too familiar with this exact power—faint, distinct in texture, yet unmistakably myeonggi.

*If the Bright Cult stands behind this, where did their scheme begin?* With the false Sacred Hand Divine Physician’s disciple who first appeared? No—Jeomchang had vouched for him. According to what he remembered from his former life, none of the Nine Great Sects had ever entered alliance with the Three Great Demonic Cults; collusion seemed unlikely.

*How do I grasp the thread before it slips away… and pull the whole truth into the light? Perhaps set out bait they cannot resist, so they have no choice but to reveal themselves?*

“Hui,” Dang Gun prompted once more. Baek Yang-hui opened his eyes.

*A journey of a thousand leagues begins with a single step. Secure what I can hold now… then slowly draw the line in.*

“Dang hyung—when I treat Lord Jin, we shall say his recovery comes from a secret detoxification martial art, newly developed through shared research between the Tang Clan and the Baek Clan.”

Dang Gun’s expression hardened. “I am sorry… but we cannot disclose such knowledge.”

“I understand. You wish to keep it hidden from the Nine Great Sects—and so do I. I shall share the truth only with the Clan Leader, in strictest confidence.”

“The Clan Leader? Not the Young Clan Leader?”

“You will see. For now—absolute discretion where the Nine Great Sects are concerned.”

That was not what truly mattered, in any case.

“Prepare supreme yin and yang elixirs. I will see you have the funds and connections required to obtain them.” The Myeonggeum Syndrome itself was not difficult to cure. The danger lay in its spread, as seen with Jin Yeong-gil—yet even that could be purged completely through the opposing forces of extreme yin and extreme yang. No one else had yet discovered this truth.

*Wait… from the Bright Cult’s perspective, might this plague-like transformation have been nothing more than an unforeseen side effect?* There was no way to know—pure speculation, without further evidence. Everyone stricken by advanced Myeonggeum Syndrome perished before a remedy could ever be found; the assumption seemed sound.

“Gather information on every known victim of Myeonggeum Syndrome as quietly as possible. Identify what they share in common. Make use of every network available… yet let no one outside our circle suspect.”

Dang Gun listened intently, then spoke once his companion fell quiet. “I accept all this. Yet you have omitted the most vital fact of all.”

The truth was difficult to put into words. The Three Great Demonic Cults had not yet openly revealed themselves; nothing could be proven beyond doubt.

“I felt a strange energy within Lord Jin—one I cannot name with certainty. Yet my instincts warn me it is deeply dangerous. It is best we prepare for what may come.”

It was vague, yet Dang Gun nodded slowly. “I place my trust in you.”

Baek Yang-hui fell silent. Even after he had spoken so boldly in the Tang Clan’s name, such faith humbled him—and strengthened his resolve to prove worthy of it.

“Trust me. By this time tomorrow, you will have far more reason to do so.”

“Ho… now you have truly sparked my curiosity.”

“At the very least, you will feel the benefits deep in your bones.”

—

Exactly one day later, within the guest quarters of the reception hall, the Young Clan Leader arrived—rushing in with bare feet, breathless.

“Young Clan Leader… what brings you here at such haste?”

He answered Dang Gun immediately. “My father—the Clan Leader—has awakened. He asks that you visit him in secret. Will you come quietly?”

Jin Yeong-gil, who had lain unconscious for more than a year, had opened his eyes at last.

Dang Gun stared at Baek Yang-hui in pure astonishment. *That is why he spoke of the Clan Leader, not his son…* This companion of his always delivered—and always surpassed every expectation.

He met Baek Yang-hui’s gaze with a smile; the other grinned back.

—

Dang Gun and Baek Yang-hui followed the Young Clan Leader deep into the heart of the Jin estate, to a richly appointed chamber guarded with utmost care. There upon a bed draped in fine silk sat Jin Yeong-gil—one of the Three Great Tycoons of the World.

“You have come.”

Though his eyes remained closed, a sharp, chilling authority radiated from him—like poison held in check.

“Since ancient times, dynasties across the Central Plains have required two staples as tax from their people. Do you know what they are?”

It was an unexpected question. Having narrowly escaped death, one might have expected inquiries after his health or urgent matters of state—not this. Still, Baek Yang-hui replied: “Grain and cloth. Rice and cotton.”

“Precisely. These twin foundations sustain all things of value—and are themselves the most precious of all.” Jin Yeong-gil ran a hand lightly over the silk coverlet. “The finest cloth is brocade; the finest brocade is Shu brocade. It is called Shu gold, for it rivals pure treasure.”

Shu was the ancient name for Sichuan—and its silk was worth more than gold.

“In my name, Jin Yeong-gil, I ask—no, I invite you to speak.” His hand rested upon the fabric. “You carry much to tell. Lay it all before me. I shall listen… and judge how many bolts of Shu silk your words are worth.”

Baek Yang-hui found himself genuinely impressed. *One of the Three Great Tycoons indeed—truly a force of nature.* Yet when it came to striking a bargain, he possessed no small confidence of his own.

“How many bolts do you offer? I shall speak to the value of your price.” After all, he who speaks first sets the market.