Mak Sohong looked confused.

A benefit? What benefit?

Reading his expression, Song Hak scoffed with an exasperated look.

“Don’t you get it? Pulling back our troops may look like a loss on the surface, but in truth, it means we’re being removed from the power struggle brewing between the martial sects. That includes the thugs in Bongrae and those crooks from the ‘New Samgok’ who pay bribes instead of taxes.”

He set the documents down on the table with a quiet thud.

“Seol Unwi’s fangs are already at their throats. Once we pull our military out, the area will fall squarely under martial world jurisdiction. And if Seol Unwi comes out on top in that fight, then ironically, we’ll have gained an even easier man to deal with.”

“But Lord Seongtaesu…”

“Ten thousand nyang? It’s a lot, sure. But not more than we can spare. The amount of tax siphoned off in Geongon Province over six months is at least that much. Frankly, it sounds like he’s inviting us to make a deal.”

Mak Sohong fell silent.

Song Hak narrowed his eyes slightly.

“So that’s the kind of man Seol Unwi is… calculating doesn’t even begin to describe him.”

He turned and fixed his gaze on Mak Sohong.

“Go back and tell him we accept all his terms. Every last one. And while you’re at it… ask him this.”

“What should °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° I ask?”

“Ask him what he thinks about the gold mines between Yangnyeong and Bongrae—about all the resources in that area.”

“The gold mines… and the resources?”

“Yes. And if he answers something like, ‘I’ll take practical profit over taxes’…”

Song Hak’s eyes flashed.

“Then my theory is correct.”

Seol Unwi had said this:

Make sure this message reaches someone with a working brain. Be it the court, Seongtaesu, whoever—just someone who understands.

Mak Sohong blinked.

What are these two men even talking about…?

What kind of game are they playing with just one letter?

A chill ran down his spine. He suddenly felt like one of the stones placed on a Go board.

And Song Hak said to him:

“Well? What are you waiting for? Go.”

“…Y-Yes! Right away.”

Mak Sohong gathered the documents and hurried off.

Left alone, Song Hak murmured with a strange smile.

“Seol Unwi… You really are a dangerous man.”

****

Two days later, Mak Sohong returned to Yangnyeong with a cart loaded with ten thousand nyang in gold.

He also brought back the ledgers and written statement I had given him. When I asked why he hadn’t burned them, he said:

“…You’re a vicious man.”

“Me?”

“Whether these are real or copies, the moment we tear them up, wouldn’t they become the real deal?”

Not exactly.

But I didn’t bother saying it out loud.

Because the moment they accepted them—whether scribbled trash or not—they already became official.

“Lord Seongtaesu of Geongon Province has taken full responsibility. Everything we discussed will be carried out. This incident was a failure of both the Yang Empire and Magistrate Jeong Mugi.”

“So you’re drawing a line.”

“That’s right. We’re drawing the line now. I mean, come on—going to war with Seolgung over one measly magistrate? Ridiculous. We could’ve negotiated the price down, but we didn’t.”

“And why is that?”

“Consider it a gesture of goodwill.”

“Goodwill, huh…”

“The non-aggression pact between the court and the martial world still holds. We don’t want to escalate this by awakening the northern giant, nor do we wish for bloodshed. Also, Lord Seongtaesu has a question he wants me to ask.”

“Go ahead.”

“…He’d like to know what you think about the gold mines between Yangnyeong and Bongrae, and the surrounding resources.”

A smile tugged at my lips.

I’d asked for someone who understands, and they actually sent one.

So I gave the answer I’d planned from the start.

“I’ll choose profit over taxes. But it will be on my terms, in my time.”

Mak Sohong’s face lit up at first—then his brow furrowed at the second part.

“Not the answer you were hoping for?”

“…It’s that second part that bothers me.”

“Then take it as it is. There’s no need to rush, and no benefit to rushing. While conflict can break out at any moment, surely someone among them has the brains to make the right call.”

“…”

“Tell Seongtaesu that. He’ll probably smile when he hears it.”

Mak Sohong thought it over, then gave a slow nod.

“…You and Lord Seongtaesu… You’re exhausting people, you know that?”

“Do I?”

“…I’ve realized I’m just a small man in the grand scheme of things.”

I laughed.

“No one else sets your limits for you. Only you can do that.”

Mak Sohong looked up sharply.

“If you believe you’re small and insignificant, then you’ll remain that way. But if you stop defining your limits and look beyond them… you might just stop being so small.”

Mak Sohong looked like he was about to say something, then closed his mouth.

He sighed deeply.

“…Maybe so. At least in front of you and Lord Seongtaesu, I truly do feel small. I’ll be going now.”

To those capable of true dialogue, my door is always open.

“Oh, and one more thing. I’d like to use some prisoners.”

“…Prisoners?”

“There are two mines in Seolap. I want to increase output, but the weather’s too harsh—no one’s volunteering.”

That part, at least, was true.

“If you’ve got prisoners beyond saving, send them here. I’ll pay generously.”

Mak Sohong gave a dry chuckle and nodded.

The envoys of the Yang Empire left Yangnyeong faster than they had arrived.

And with that, Yangnyeong was officially designated as territory of the Everlasting Snow Palace in writing.

Now came the real work—actual governance.

With a flick of my hand, three agents from the Snow Compression Branch who had been training in the corner immediately stepped forward.

“There’s no way you’ve been relaxing these last three days in Yangnyeong. Report what you’ve learned.”

Wonyang was the first to speak.

“With the destruction of the four clans that once ruled Yangnyeong, the city no longer has any dominant power. Five groups have begun moving in to fill the void—Jade Tiger Gate, Blue Cloud Sect, the Yeong Family, the Shin Family, and the World Commerce Association.”

At the mention of the last name, a familiar one, Seol Unwi chuckled faintly.

“The World Commerce Association?”

“Yes, sir. Word spread like wildfire these past four days that you were backing them, and ever since, they’ve been rapidly expanding their influence.”

“Such as?”

“Exactly two days ago, they forcefully acquired two blacksmiths, two apothecaries, three small merchant groups, and five inns. And just yesterday, they began construction on pavilions over the ruins of Hyeoncheongung and Jang Sword Gate’s former lands.”

A laugh escaped my lips.

“What do you think?”

“…If you’re asking my opinion… I’d say the World Commerce Association is crossing a line.”

“Cheonpung, and you?”

“I agree completely.”

“Han Murin. Your thoughts.”

Han Murin was never one to speak much. Famously stoic, he gave his answer in a short sentence.

“Let them be.”

“And why is that?”

“If we leave them alone, the Association will come to control more than half of Yangnyeong. And when that time comes, we can simply wipe out their merchant lord and his entire bloodline. Their power will naturally become yours.”

That went beyond cunning. It was cold-blooded brilliance.

Wonyang and Cheonpung both blinked, unable to hide their shock. For a moment, it was hard to tell whether Murin was a man or some devil in disguise.

Surprisingly, I found myself intrigued.

“I like that idea.”

Wonyang and Cheonpung whipped their heads toward me in disbelief. Judging by their expressions, they were wondering if I was serious. I ignored them and continued speaking.

“I do like it—but for now, we hold off.”

Han Murin, perhaps never meaning to propose it seriously, quietly stepped back without protest.

“Han Murin.”

“Yes.”

“Your method is efficient. I won’t deny that. But the World Commerce Association is already under my command. So I’ll give them one chance.”

“…Even if they cross a line?”

“They may appear to cross the line by your standards, but by mine, they haven’t.”

“…”

“Expanding their influence? An organization that plays both merchant and martial roles—of course they’d do that. If they hadn’t, I’d be questioning their competence. But you’re right. They deserve a warning.”

A chill touched my lips as a cold smile curled at their edge.

“No matter how loyal a subordinate may be, it’s unacceptable for them to start thinking they own the land.”

The solution I laid out was simple.

“We’ll hold a banquet tonight.”

“…A banquet?”

“What’s the largest winehouse in Yangnyeong?”

“That would be Yangnyeong Hall.”

Yangnyeong Hall. Named after the region itself, the six-story building was the grandest in the county. Its courtesans were said to be the finest in Yangnyeong—especially their talent in zither-playing, which ranked top-tier. People even came from other provinces to enjoy their company.

“Tonight, summon the heads of all major sects in Yangnyeong to Yangnyeong Hall.”

“As you command.”

The three immediately rushed out, and once I was alone, Seong, the steward, approached me.

“Sir.”

I turned to him.

“…I just heard this from the chamberlain: the palace is wondering when you intend to return.”

The process of swallowing Yangnyeong was still ongoing. It wasn’t finished yet.

To wrap things up would take at least another day or two.

“Tell them I’ll return in two days.”

“Two days. Understood.”

As Seong turned to leave, I asked:

“Don’t you need more people?”

Seong gave a faint smile.

“Wonyang stops by occasionally to help, so I’m still managing just fine.”

Though a martial artist by background, Seong hadn’t used force in years.

Over a dozen years had passed since his last real battle. In that time, he’d been a housekeeper, a steward—a man of paperwork, not violence. His identity as a warrior had almost completely faded.

And yet, that was fine.

For someone at the entry level of Enlightenment, even without battle experience, he still had the strength to protect himself.

“If you ever want to return to active duty, just say the word.”

Seong let out a laugh.

“I’m content with my work now. And judging by how things are unfolding, I doubt my martial strength is needed.”

“It’s not about strength.”

Seong tilted his head. Not about strength?

“I don’t want to see my people forced to do something they don’t want to do.”

At that, Seong visibly flinched—touched to his core. His eyes even glistened, as if on the verge of tears.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep