So (1)
There was a nameless orphan in Sichuan.
One day, this orphan met a merchant who was distributing relief grain, and to the merchant's eye, the orphan's appearance was not bad at all.
The merchant said, "I hear you're sixteen. Instead of begging, why don't you come work for me?"
The orphan replied, "If you'll take me in, I'll do anything."
Just then, the long struggle between the Demonic Cult and the Martial Alliance, which had shaken the martial world for many years, came to an end.
It was the beginning of an era of peace and prosperity.
Naturally, the markets stabilized, and merchants rapidly expanded their influence.
The man who hired the orphan was named Jang Dae-gil, and he was quite a capable merchant.
He did not ignore the tide of the times—the expansion of the market economy—but instead threw both his body and the fate of his trading house into it.
As time passed, the gamble succeeded, and the trading house steadily grew.
And at the center of that growth was the orphan boy.
Unlike Neo-Confucian scholars or those who debated Legalism and Daoism after having tasted ink, the orphan boy was an illiterate ignoramus with no formal learning.
However, he was skilled with numbers, quick-witted, and possessed a talent for reading people's hearts.
Valuing these abilities, Jang Dae-gil favored and cherished him, giving him credit for achievements and calling him his son.
People called him So-gil, meaning "little Jang Dae-gil," and as time passed, perhaps finding even that bothersome, they shortened it to a single character—"So."
By the time So reached the age of adulthood, business was flourishing day by day, and their power steadily swelled.
Jang Dae-gil's trading house, Daewoonbang, became a gigantic merchant guild representing the Sichuan region.
But as the saying goes, good fortune invites misfortune.
Where there are good things, demons are bound to intrude.
The rise of a new giant merchant guild representing Sichuan disturbed the nerves of a certain group.
The Tang Clan of Sichuan, the Sichuan Supreme of the One Clan Under Heaven.
For the Tang Clan, which had reigned loftily as the supreme power for over three hundred years, Daewoonbang's rapid advance was no different from a challenge.
They say there are three forces that rule the world: authority, wealth, and martial power.
These three forces are fluid.
If one possesses a single force, the others naturally follow.
Daewoonbang's wealth could collude with high authority, and with money, it could command powerful martial might.
Thus, in the eyes of the Tang Clan, Daewoonbang's wealth seemed likely to become a great threat in the future.
A threat must be cut out before it can sprout.
The blade of the Tang Clan was turned toward Daewoonbang.
The power of the Tang Clan, known as the Sichuan Supreme, lived up to its reputation.
No matter how much Daewoonbang was transforming into a giant merchant guild, it lacked time.
The might of the Tang Clan swept over Daewoonbang with ease, and soon annihilated the entire house, erasing it from Sichuan.
On the day Daewoonbang was destroyed, So ground his teeth and rolled in the mud.
"Sichuan… the Tang family…!"
As if trying to wash away the blood, So stared at the endlessly pouring rain and swore vengeance.
It was the summer of the nineteenth year of the Yongle Emperor.
Who is the greatest under heaven in this age?
Out of a hundred, a hundred; out of ten, ten—everyone answers in unison: Gu Mun-ryong.
The number one under heaven, Gu Mun-ryong, leader of the Martial Alliance.
Clad in a white robe said to have never been stained by a single drop of blood despite countless battles with the Demonic Cult, he was a god of the battlefield, the heavens themselves, and the supreme existence.
The man praised as undefeated and unyielding, an invincible being—
"Haa…"
Letting out a sigh as he looked down at the crape myrtle blossoms in his estate.
"So you're saying there's no money?"
"I regret to say that is correct."
The man apologizing with a stiff face was named Sima Hui.
The second son of the prestigious Sima clan, he was a strategist favored by Gu Mun-ryong.
Gu Mun-ryong's gaze as he looked at him was troubled.
"Strategist Sima truly is a strategist. Aside from fighting, you have no other talents."
"I apologize."
Since it was the truth, he had neither rebuttal nor excuse.
Gu Mun-ryong had expected at least a feeble excuse, and as he looked at Sima Hui's endlessly stiff bowed head, he stroked his beard.
"Tsk. I don't like this. It's already been four years since the war between the righteous and the demonic factions ended."
"That is correct."
"An era of peace has begun, and all people should be living happily—yet the Martial Alliance's finances are on the verge of bankruptcy?"
"That is correct."
"Strategist Sima, does this make any sense to you? We're the Martial Alliance. The Martial Alliance. Where in the world did all the support funds coming from across the Central Plains go?"
"I hesitate to say this, but—"
"Enough with the hesitation. Say it."
"The support funds and income are not insufficient, but there are far too many thieves within the Alliance."
"…Too many thieves?"
"Yes. Very, very many."
The Martial Alliance's main income came from funds sent by the Nine Sects and Eight Clans and the imperial palace to maintain peace and balance in the Central Plains, followed by protection fees—crudely speaking, seat money.
"Because it is not a proper revenue structure, many people embezzle. Those who receive what they should claim they never received it. Those who submit false reports saying there was a bad harvest or that bandits took it, then pocket the money themselves, and so on. There are too many holes we cannot even imagine."
"Mm… mmm."
"It could be said to be just like those base merchants."
Even Sima Hui, who spoke so calmly, openly regarded merchants as base, making the reason the Martial Alliance's finances were riddled with holes painfully obvious.
To the so-called educated class who had tasted ink, commercial talent was too trivial to even be considered a skill.
Above all, an attitude or technique that obsessed over money was seen as vulgar and unbecoming of a gentleman.
Naturally, merchants were despised, while scholars were esteemed.
The only reason martial artists were not looked down upon was because getting hit meant death—there was no other reason.
In short, the problem lay in the merchants' tricks, and neither the martial artists nor the scholars had the ability to stop them.
So the money kept leaking away.
Gu Mun-ryong's grip trembled involuntarily.
"Why has it come to this?!"
"The reason such numerous tricks run rampant is that their methods are extremely ingenious and covert, making them hard to detect, and the collusion between merchants and insiders is so tight that it is even harder to secure evidence, rendering punishment impossible."
"If the merchants are that tightly bound together, then inviting a merchant to solve the problem would be impossible."
"That is correct. No merchant could do such a thing, nor could we trust one."
"Then what about requesting help from the imperial palace and borrowing the power of the Eastern Depot?"
The Eastern Depot was a specialized investigative body that, by imperial command, probed officials' embezzlement and corruption.
Their reputation was such that no 'golden demon' could escape them.
"Borrowing the Eastern Depot's power would certainly make it possible, however—"
"However?"
"There is a non-aggression pact between the court and the martial world. If we borrow the court's power for Alliance matters, the Alliance's reputation would fall to the ground, and above all, the imperial palace would never help us."
"Not even if I request it personally?"
"It has already been four years since the Demonic Cult fell quiet. When the hunt is over, the hounds are boiled—just like the old saying. The imperial palace would rather weaken the Alliance than strengthen it. Therefore, borrowing the Eastern Depot's power is also impossible."
"Grrr… This is impossible, that is impossible! How frustrating—!"
Breaking things was the greatest talent under heaven, but that was a talent needed in chaotic times.
In an age of peace, what was needed was not the power to fight, but the talent to maintain and manage.
Even as the greatest under heaven, Gu Mun-ryong was nothing more than a martial brute, and his patience was slowly reaching its limit.
Sensing the sharp, chilling aura, Sima Hui cleared his throat and finally brought a countermeasure to his lips.
"Hiring a capable individual and placing them in charge of enforcement seems to be the best course of action."
"A trustworthy talent? You're saying such a person exists within the Martial Alliance? Who could it be?"
"They are not someone of the Alliance. They are a merchant."
"Didn't you say with your own mouth that merchants cannot be trusted? Are you contradicting yourself?"
"There exists one who is a merchant, yet not a merchant."
"A merchant, yet not a merchant?"
Sima Hui unfolded his fan and pointed beyond Luoyang, toward the Sichuan region.
"This happened in the sixteenth year of the Yongle Emperor. A merchant named Jang Dae-gil, living in Sichuan, took in an orphan as his adopted son. This child possessed truly heaven-bestowed commercial talent—his calculations never erred, he exposed liars as if by ghostly intuition, and by gathering the words of common folk, he could foresee the flow of the times without obstruction. In just three years, he turned Jang Dae-gil's trading house, Daewoonbang, into the greatest merchant guild in Sichuan. His innate genius cannot be denied."
"Hm. Go on."
"But when one says 'the greatest in Sichuan,' who comes to mind? Is it not the Tang Clan?"
"Indeed. Those venomous and vicious bastards. Dogs more demonic than the Demonic Cult itself."
"When Daewoonbang rose to the point of being called Sichuan's greatest, its power touched the Tang Clan's reverse scale, and an incident occurred last summer. Unable to tolerate Daewoonbang recruiting and training martial artists and attempting to rise as a sect, the Tang family took matters into their own hands. Thus the net of heaven and earth was cast, and a living hell was opened."
"Everyone died, I presume."
"No. There was one who survived that hell of clan annihilation."
"Could it be… that person?"
"Yes. Jang Dae-gil's adopted son. Believing that as long as that child lived they could surely rise again, Jang Dae-gil and his household filled the river with corpses and took arrows with their own bodies to save him. There must have been heavenly fortune, and skill as well. After all, he survived the net of heaven and earth."
Gu Mun-ryong was not a dull man. One could never reach the pinnacle of martial arts through dullness. With sharp eyes, he reviewed the situation and quickly grasped what Sima Hui wished to say.
"I have heard the story well. The Tang Clan's brutality is hard to forgive, but realistically, there is no way to punish them. Rumors are merely rumors; they will not become evidence."
Even Gu Mun-ryong was hearing for the first time that a place called Daewoonbang had been annihilated by the Tang Clan.
Sichuan was far away. The Tang Clan was the greatest in Sichuan. It was only too obvious that they would erase evidence and manipulate matters.
"Even if we knew, there would be no room for us to intervene. Everyone was in the midst of recovering their strength after the war with the Demonic Cult, and above all, did Daewoonbang not also err?"
"That is correct. For the sake of the Sichuan Tang Clan's dignity, they should not have attempted to draw in martial artists. If, for self-preservation, they wished to color their trading house with the hue of the martial world and become a sect, they should first have knocked on the door of the Martial Alliance. That would have preserved our own face as well."
"By ignoring us, they slighted us too. There is no need for us to involve ourselves."
The Sichuan Tang Clan belonged to the Martial Alliance; Daewoonbang did not. That fact alone removed any justification for Alliance intervention. Arms bend inward, and the Martial Alliance was never a sect that pursued pure justice or righteousness.
"Even so, it leaves a bitter taste."
"However, this story is quite useful to us."
"Jang Dae-gil's adopted son, then."
"As expected of the Alliance Leader. You've seen straight through it."
"If this story is true, then someone consumed by vengeance will not be blinded by petty money. And if he also possesses genius-level commercial talent…!"
"Then he would become the very best talent our Alliance seeks. And if, in the process, we aid his revenge, we could also deliver a great punishment to the lawless Sichuan Tang Clan."
"Can we find him? I would very much like to use him."
He was judged to possess the greatest commercial talent.
He had reached such heights at the age of early adulthood, and now, driven by vengeance, he must surely be grinding his teeth in resolve.
If they could borrow his strength to deal with the Martial Alliance's troubles, and at the same time check the Sichuan Tang Clan, it would be killing three birds with one stone.
As Gu Mun-ryong's eyes shone with anticipation, Sima Hui spoke quietly.
"We have already secured him. We are merely awaiting your decision, Alliance Leader."
"Hah. How did you find so easily a fugitive being pursued by the Sichuan Tang Clan?"
"I did not find him."
"Then?"
Sima Hui calmly curled his lips upward.
"He came to us."
"He came to you? Wahahahahaha!!! That fellow is something else."
"I believe him to be a once-in-a-generation talent."
"Tell me, Strategist Sima. If we were to grant him a position, what should it be?"
The Martial Alliance was a coalition of many sects.
Within it were factions and sects of their own.
With an ordinary position, he would not even be able to lift his head before them.
He needed a post that would not be overshadowed by theirs.
Sima Hui grinned broadly.
"The Central Plains are vast, and thieves are many. One cannot catch all thieves with a single net."
"True."
"Therefore, how about first appointing him as an Inspector, observing his ability and authority, and then gradually expanding his power to form an inspection unit?"
"Would not slowly expanding his influence instead of catching the thieves all at once risk startling the snake by striking the grass?"
"Even if that happens, if the thieves panic on their own and plug the holes, would that not also be a good outcome in its own way?"
"I see. As expected of Strategist Sima. Proceed as you suggest."
"By your command."
Once the Alliance Leader's order was given, everything moved swiftly.
Sima Hui sent a carrier pigeon to So, who was living in seclusion in a corner of Luoyang.
Half a day later, the pigeon returned with So's reply.
As Sima Hui unfolded the letter, he clenched his teeth.
"That bastard—!"
Written in the letter was something utterly outrageous.