Chapter 17 Yeo Il showed no particular reaction and simply gazed at the dark lake stretching behind the woman in the red gauze robe.
"…There is someone the proprietor worries about every single day without fail. Should that person arrive while she is away, she instructed us to prepare a feast so lavish the table legs might break, to offer fragrant wine and music, and to present the finest beauties to delight his eyes—treat him like a king until the proprietor returns."
The woman's whisper was soft, yet her gaze remained fixed on Yeo Il's cheek.
As if displeased by that stare, Seol-yeong reached out and half-closed the carriage window, drawing a line with a cool voice.
"We are pressed for time. We will conclude our business and depart."
"Oh my, how unfortunate. The proprietor will be heartbroken…."
The woman furrowed her pale brows and let out a syrupy sigh. Only for a moment.
"I let my words run long out of delight at your arrival. Please, come inside."
She stepped back.
Seol-yeong climbed the pavilion stairs with Chang-a sleeping soundly on his back, and Yeo Il followed.
"A distinguished guest has arrived!"
"Prepare to receive the honored guest!"
Creak—
The pavilion interior, thrown wide open, was bright as day. The fragrance within was languid, like that of the Peach Blossom Spring. A woman by the nearest pillar asked Seol-yeong,
"Honored guest, would you dine?"
He ignored her and passed by. The woman at the second pillar asked,
"Then, honored guest, would you order wine?"
Ignored again. The woman at the third pillar approached.
"Then, honored guest, do you require companionship?"
When Seol-yeong halted, she bowed deeply and guided them westward.
After walking some distance, the woman vanished without a trace. A space as dark as the outside night received them.
Tinkle—
With each step, golden bells hanging from the high ceiling brushed against them and rang in clear notes.
"…Lady Soyo? Th-this place, what is it…?"
"Shh. It is fine, Chang-a. Close your eyes."
Once Chang-a, half-asleep, obeyed, Seol-yeong surveyed the surroundings with unease.
"I felt this before… Every time we enter this strange chamber, the bell sounds echo from all directions and scatter your sense of direction."
They walked without stopping until a sliver of light appeared ahead.
Before a red lantern stood a small table with ink, paper, and brush laid out. Yeo Il picked up the brush and wrote one short sentence.
Namgung Chu-myeong is a fake wearing a human-skin mask.
Tinkle—
She folded the paper and tied it to the string of a bell. As if waiting, the red string shot upward toward the ceiling.
Soon the silent space filled once more with ringing bells.
Tinkle—
Tinkle—
Tinkle—
They followed the direction of the sound. When they exited the bell chamber, the darkness lifted.
A woman stood before a modest set of drawers.
Bowing, she opened the left drawer.
Clatter—
Silver poured out like a waterfall.
It was the value of the information Yeo Il had sold here at Drunken Fragrance Garden.
"Whoa…"
Seol-yeong covered his mouth.
"It looks like more than before?"
"Half a year ago, the secrets I sold were already old. They cannot compare."
The value of information shifts with time. What Yeo Il had just disposed of was enough to shake the current martial world.
Half a year ago, there had been verification procedures. Today, even that was omitted. It seemed they were being treated as honored guests of Drunken Fragrance Garden.
The woman gathered the silver into a large white porcelain jar. On it were written:
Hangnyong Gate (抗龍門).
Hangnyong Gate.
After the Orthodox–Demonic Great War twenty-five years ago, when the heterodox intelligence sect Hao Gate collapsed, dozens of sects emerged claiming to inherit its legacy.
The victor was Hangnyong Gate.
It was said one might deceive the moon, but never Hangnyong Gate. They specialized in incidents, information, intelligence, and special commissions across the martial world.
Drunken Fragrance Garden was the Hubei and Henan branch of Hangnyong Gate. Across the continent, there were no fewer than nine such pavilions.
The accumulated wealth was evident.
The woman gestured for a servant to present the jar containing five hundred taels.
"In total, five hundred taels. Please accept it, honored guest."
An enormous sum.
Yet Seol-yeong did not take it.
"Do you require something further?" the woman asked.
"I do."
"If you speak it, Drunken Fragrance Garden will listen."
Seol-yeong stated clearly,
"First. The identity of the one wearing Namgung Chu-myeong's human-skin mask.
Second. Whether the Killing Register kept by the Namgung Clan is authentic.
We require these two pieces of information. As quickly as possible."
Silence.
Thud, thud.
The sound of drums echoed. A servant began pouring the silver from the jar into the right drawer.
Ting—
The final coin fell. The drawer did not close.
"Is five hundred taels insufficient?" Seol-yeong asked.
"My apologies."
"How much more?"
"Three hundred taels."
Three hundred taels. Not a small amount.
Seol-yeong leaned closer and whispered,
"We do not have three hundred taels on hand. What do we do?"
After a long pause, Yeo Il spoke calmly.
"We will pay the balance after receiving the information."
The woman bowed deeper.
"My apologies. Hangnyong Gate requires full payment in advance."
"Convey this to the proprietor of Drunken Fragrance Garden. If she brings information that satisfies me, I will sell intelligence worth more than double the three hundred taels."
"The proprietor is not present—"
"Then make the judgment yourself. I am treated as an honored guest by Hangnyong Gate. The one assigned to receive me cannot be just anyone."
The woman's brows tightened. Three hundred taels was no light matter.
"We are pressed for time. Answer within three counts."
"..."
"Three."
"..."
"Two."
"..."
"One."
Yeo Il turned without hesitation.
"…We will."
The woman's voice stopped her.
"We will bring an answer that satisfies you, honored guest. In return, please keep your promise."
Yeo Il nodded lightly and left Drunken Fragrance Garden.
Back in the carriage, Seol-yeong suddenly spoke.
"It may be belated… but thank you, Lady."
"That is indeed belated."
"Haha. It is just… whenever I see that extravagant pavilion… I cannot quite believe that Seol Seorin noona can live there as the proprietor of Drunken Fragrance Garden under Hangnyong Gate's protection, free from the threats of street thugs."
"Seol Seorin was chosen by the Master of Hangnyong Gate because her beauty and skill are exceptional. Not because of me."
Yes. What mattered most there were beauty and ability. Yeo Il merely placed Seol Seorin before the Master of Hangnyong Gate.
Chang-a stared blankly.
"It was such an amazing place… so many beautiful older sisters… I am not dreaming, am I?"
Yeo Il smiled faintly and stroked her head. Chang-a closed her eyes and soon fell into deep sleep.
The next day—
They arrived at the rendezvous point.
t.
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