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Thus, Mount Hua disciples, guided by the kids Yoo Han-bin had supposedly taken under his wing, went to the residence of the Minister of Revenue, Ga Eon-Seong.
“Hey! Are you sure you checked this out properly?”
At Chung Myung’s annoyed reproach, Yoo Han-bin suddenly turned his head.
“Wait a moment. Hey! Did you really verify it?”
“I-I’m telling the truth. It’s certain. One of our kids’ mothers works as a maid in the minister’s household.”
“We checked for sure.”
“…You’re sure?”
“You’re certain, right?”
“Y-yes, I am.”
The child answered, sweating profusely. If this was the case, they might as well have asked directly—why did these filthy-looking brats keep repeating the same thing?
“The Minister of Revenue is an official, right?”
“Yes. That’s right.”
“A government official isn’t supposed to engage in business, is he?”
“I-I suppose?”
“Then what’s that over there?”
“Uh… well, that is…”
The Mount Hua disciples stared in disbelief at the enormous mansion before them.
A wall stretched endlessly from left to right, and a colossal gate that looked wide enough for five carts abreast. A plaque in the center of that gate read Ga-hwa Trading Group……
“A trading guild.”
“It’s a trading company, all right.”
“Anyone can see this is a trading firm.”
Everyone looked at the child demanding an explanation. The child, sweating even more, answered.
“N-no. I’m telling the truth. His Excellency the Minister of Revenue lives over there.”
“…This brat, does he look down on us as country bumpkins? No matter how much we’re Taoists with no ties to officialdom, we know an official running a trading company is illegal!”
“Y-yeah. But there’s no law that says an official’s younger sibling can’t run a trading company.”
“…Huh?”
“The official owner of that trading group is actually Ga Eon-Seong’s younger brother. Ga Eon-Seong simply lives off the trading company his brother runs.”
The Mount Hua disciples’ mouths dropped open in unison.
“Th-that’s possible?”
“…Strictly speaking, it’s not illegal.”
“Is this a matter of legality? It’s just covering things up with a blindfold!”
“He’s right. But still, it’s not outright illegal.”
“Ah.”
The Mount Hua disciples stared at the palace-like garden with expressions that couldn’t recover from shock.
“My goodness… They say the Beijing folk will pinch your nose when you close your eyes. Such thieving bastards……”
“And also…”
“What else is there?”
“Although I said he lives off someone, to be precise, the minister’s residence is separate.”
“What? Then you should’ve said that first! Where is it?”
Everyone pressed the child with faces that read, ‘That figures.’
“It’s over there at the end.”
“The end? The end of where?”
“I mean that house on the corner over there.”
Baek Cheon tilted his head in puzzlement.
“What kind of house is on the corner?”
“There—it’s right there, a house!”
“No matter how you look, there’s no house—only a collapsing shrine… Could it be?”
Baek Cheon’s jaw dropped to his chest.
“T-that is a house? That?”
A dilapidated shack that looked like it would crumble at a tap, so narrow no one could enter comfortably, was attached to the massive garden wall.
“Yes. So… His Excellency the Minister of Revenue is renowned for his frugality.”
“F-frugal?”
“Because he lives in a place like that.”
The Mount Hua disciples felt their senses reel.
“So this minister—or whoever he is—runs the trading company under his brother’s name, and to top it off, builds that showy mansion while living in that shabby little house to pretend he’s an honest man?”
“…”
“Isn’t this totally insane?”
“…It’s common in Beijing.”
“Eek.”
The Mount Hua party trembled as if they’d seen hell with their own eyes. Even Hae Yeon, so shocked, began reciting the Heart Sutra.
I told you not to recite curses—he’s reciting the Heart Sutra and has collapsed… No, that’s not the point.
“Hey, Chung Myung. Isn’t this going too far… Why do your eyes look like that?”
“Sasuk.”
“Huh?”
“When I think about it, haven’t I really lived honestly and kindly?”
“…”
“That thought suddenly occurred to me.”
“No, no. That can’t be. Don’t have such wicked thoughts.”
“Really?”
“…Maybe. Probably.”
But even Baek Cheon, saying that, wasn’t particularly convinced himself.
“Hey, are all Beijing officials like this?”
“Uhh? Eh? Huh? Yeah?”
“…This kid’s broken. What do we do?”
Jo Go-hak, so stunned, was twisting his neck from side to side, creaking.
“There shouldn’t be any problem getting inside. They’re short-handed right now and hiring new people. I heard they’re planning to recruit about thirty more.”
“…Seeing so many people coming and going non-stop, they do seem to need more hands. But how on earth do you know this?”
“I just know it.”
“Huh?”
“I just know. Everyone knows it.”
When Baek Cheon looked blank, not understanding the answer, Yoo Han-bin shrugged and explained.
“Things adults find awkward to discuss are often nothing to children. So it’s easier than you think to get information.”
“…I suppose. So anyway, since they’re hiring workers, infiltration will be easy, right?”
“Yes. But I heard the screening is extremely strict. We should be careful.”
“That’s no problem. Where else would you find workers as good as us?”
Baek Cheon smiled broadly, his beard-filled face beaming.
“These are the new applicants who applied this time.”
“Hmm, is that so?”
The head steward of the Ga-hwa Trading Group scanned the lined-up applicants with sharp eyes.
“…They all have somewhat dirty looks. Did these guys come from banditry?”
“Who are you insulting right now… Ack!”
Chung Myung, whose foot had been stepped on, protruded his lips like a beak.
‘Shut up.’
‘Shut that mouth!’
‘You promised to keep your mouth shut.’
“I don’t think that’s the case. They spoke with a Shaanxi dialect, and as you know, there are hardly any bandits in Shaanxi.”
“So they’re Shaanxi country bumpkins.”
At being called country bumpkins, Chung Myung was about to flare up again, but Dang Soso kindly stepped on his foot once more.
“Are they any good?”
“The men all seem to have good strength. As for the women, they’ll handle themselves in the kitchen, won’t they?”
“Hmm. Right. Then… we should verify them now.”
The steward glared at everyone with sharp eyes.
“If any of you harbor ill intentions in coming here, leave now. Those who leave now will be forgiven. But if you don’t and are discovered… you will not leave this place alive. Understand? The elder of this trading house is Ho-burangjung, after all.”
“Y-yes.”
“Ill intentions? Those fellows don’t know such things.”
“Good. We’ll see once we check. Wait here.”
The steward took people and headed to the back. As soon as he moved away, everyone’s gaze snapped to a single spot.
“What did I just hear?”
“They don’t know such things? Wow, they’ve done servant life for ten years each, probably.”
“Who would’ve thought Jo Gul would be useful.”
“…Be quiet, all of you. You useless people.”
When the Mount Hua disciples, as if on cue, applauded, Jo Gul’s face flushed bright red.
“But what exactly is this verification?”
“Who knows. I haven’t heard of this. Maybe… some kind of intelligence group?”
“That could be. It’s the Minister of Revenue’s house, which is connected to the alumni association. We should be on guard.”
“If things go south, we should run. Everyone be careful.”
“Yes.”
While everyone tensed, the steward who had gone toward the rear of the hall returned accompanied by someone.
“Heh heh. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but it doesn’t matter. If this person sees them, he sees everything.”
‘This person?’
At that, everyone’s gaze followed the steward to the rat-mustached man who had come with him.
“This man is a famous physiognomist in Beijing.”
“…A what? What’s a ‘physio’? Sa… no, elder.”
“I think he means a face-reader.”
“Physiognomy? Why bring that up all of a sudden?”
“Be quiet. Can’t you all shut up and wait patiently?”
The steward barked, then gave the physiognomist a slight nod.
“Please.”
“Hmm.”
The rat-mustached man grabbed his own whiskers with thumb and forefinger and tugged, then ambled over to Jo Gul, who stood at the far end.
“Hmmm.”
The physiognomist scrutinized his face and tilted his head.
“No, what is this. His physiognomy…”
“Well? Does he have ill intent?”
“…Not ill intent. This man has a fate that he keeps messing up himself.”
“Huh? What does that mean?”
“It’s a rare face even for me to see. He was fated to be born wealthy and live worry-free, but he can’t control his temper and so twists his fate into a life of misery.”
“Ah…”
“Tsk tsk tsk. What a rotten fate. If he’d just kept his temper down he’d have lived a life of ease and plenty. Sigh.”
The Mount Hua party applauded as if enchanted.
“Amazing.”
“Truly amazing.”
“Hey. Give him an offering.”
“…P-please accept this token.”
Whether they did or not, the physiognomist shrugged and continued speaking.
“Well, there won’t be a problem. He’ll suffer, but he’s not the type to betray or pocket gains.”
“I see. You pass.”
“Th-thank… you.”
Having passed but lost much dignity, Jo Gul shuffled to the side with a slightly ashen face.
“…What is this one?”
The physiognomist blinked when he moved on to the next person.
“What I just saw was rare, but this one is even more so. You… no, sir. Did you perhaps run away from some great powerful family?”
“E-emei…”
Seeing Hae Yeon squinting his eyes shut, the Mount Hua disciples desperately clamped their mouths shut.
“This isn’t an ordinary fate. If he’d stayed put and endured, he would’ve practically had the world. What could’ve happened for him to throw that all away?”
“Many things happened.”
“When you think about it, isn’t it actually not such a big deal?”
“Indeed. Looking back, he might be the angriest-tempered one among us.”
Hae Yeon closed his eyes and repeatedly mouthed a protective chant inwardly; otherwise he felt he might cough up blood.
“How strange… Anyway, this gentleman—no, this person—is not someone who would harm others. A sincere and true talent.”
“Ah. You pass too, come this way.”
Then the physiognomist frowned with a perplexed expression.
“In all my life I’ve never seen a day like this. What are these porters… Damn it, what’s with this face?”
The Mount Hua disciples could no longer contain themselves and clamped their mouths with both hands.
Before the physiognomist stood Baek Cheon, already tightly closing his eyes as if sensing his fate.
“No, are you possessed or what? If you ran away from home, that should’ve been enough. Why did you set it on fire?”
“Gasp!”
“I-I’m going crazy.”
“Oh, mother. I’m going to die.”
Clear tears formed at the corners of Baek Cheon’s eyes.
‘If I ever set foot in Beijing again, I won’t be human.’
“S-steward.”
“Yes.”
“This person isn’t a problem otherwise… but he’s seriously at odds with his family’s elders. Is that still okay?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well… if I must say, he has a bit of a filially-ungenerous kind of trait.”
Unable to hold it in, Chung Myung clutched his belly and rolled on the floor.
And Baek Cheon said nothing, gazing silently into the distant sky.
Today, of all days, the sky was clear and high.
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