A Distorted Tale in the Shadows

“When did you say the festival starts?”

“In three days, Young Master.”

“And yet the streets are this empty?”

“Well, that is because…”

Jin-cheong trailed off as if he held the answer but hesitated to speak it aloud. I gave him a subtle chin-lift, urging him to go on.

But before he could utter another word, the sound of approaching footsteps naturally drew our gazes toward the stairs.

The distinct creak of wooden steps echoed as someone made their way up to the third floor. Anchored by the lingering hope that our refreshments had finally arrived, I stared expectantly toward the landing, but the figure that ultimately emerged was not the tavern waiter.

“…….”

The man who had just stepped onto the floor was fully armed and clad in black from head to toe. Even the bamboo hat resting on his head was a stark, obsidian color.

Perhaps due to the oppressive darkness of his attire, a faint, overwhelming aura seemed to radiate from his very presence. However, something else entirely managed to capture my attention.

Cradling a black-hilted sword in his grip, the man briefly swept his gaze over the perimeter before selecting a spot that caught his fancy.

He seated himself precisely one table away from us. As I quietly observed his movements, the tavern master who had been guarding the first floor personally hurried up the stairs to approach the man.

“Greetings, Great Hero. May I take your order?”

“Bring me a flask of Nu’er Hong and a bowl of plain noodles.”

“Right away, sir.”

Wow, Nu’er Hong.

During my two months of travel, I had frequently overheard people ordering Zhugeqing wine, but this was the absolute first time since my transmigration that I had heard someone order Nu’er Hong.

Perhaps sensing my startled, lingering gaze, the man subtly pushed up the front brim of his bamboo hat and locked his eyes directly with mine.

“…….”

I had assumed he was merely an ordinary traveler, but his features were unexpectedly handsome.

Our silent exchange with the man—who appeared to be roughly the same age as Jin-cheong—lasted only a fleeting second. The moment I spotted the tavern waiter carrying a tray up the stairs, I swiftly averted my gaze.

“Here is your cold tea, esteemed guests. If you require anything else at all, please do not hesitate to call for me. I shall be waiting right by the staircase.”

“Thank you for your hard work.”

The moment Jin-cheong offered a firm nod and slipped a few silver coins into his hand, the waiter’s face lit up with a brilliant smile. Once he retreated down the steps, I immediately drained the cup Yeo-ui had carefully poured for me.

“Haa.”

“Has that thoroughly quenched your thirst, Young Master?”

“Yes.”

“Since the floor is completely empty, what do you think about resting here for a short while longer before we move to our next destination?”

“Let’s do that.”

The serene, quiet atmosphere was highly enjoyable, and just as Yeo-ui had pointed out, the absolute lack of crowds made it the perfect haven to take a proper break.

The moment I nodded along to his suggestion, I could clearly see Yeo-ui beaming broadly through the sheer fabric of my veil. Letting out a soft chuckle, I took another small sip to moisten my throat before reviving our interrupted conversation.

“There is undeniably a specific reason why the streets are this desolate. Go ahead and speak freely.”

“…I am merely deeply hesitant to speak, for fear it might ruin your pleasant mood, Young Master.”

“Forget it. I experienced entirely too much the exact day I stepped back into Hefei, so there is absolutely nothing left that could possibly shock me.”

Encountering Yeon Ji-oh and Namgung Hwi marching right up to our estate had been staggering enough, but as far as wild stories went, nothing could top that specific disaster.

Recalling that preposterous rumor about a man getting pregnant, I urged him to hurry up and speak. Knocking back a sip of his own tea to moisten his throat, Jin-cheong finally broke his silence.

“The truth is… you recall the immense commotion that erupted directly in front of Mangeum Bank the day we returned to Hefei, do you not?”

Given the exceptionally cautious tone of his voice, he was clearly being mindful of the other guest sharing the floor. As I gave a firm nod of understanding, Jin-cheong mirrored my gesture before continuing with his explanation.

“Due to that specific incident, all sorts of wild rumors have been tearing across Hefei. It appears the current state of the streets is a direct consequence of that gossip.”

“Just what kind of rumor could possibly cause such a massive shift?”

Considering how many eyewitnesses had been present to watch the spectacle unfold that day, I had already calculated that some gossip would inevitably brew. However, watching Jin-cheong adopt such a profoundly solemn expression suddenly injected a sharp layer of tension into my chest.

I desperately prayed it wasn’t a rumor that would make my blood pressure skyrocket.

Swallowing down a thick lump in my throat, I found myself entirely struck dumb by the words that finally left Jin-cheong’s lips after a long pause.

“Word across the streets is that the Namgung Clan is currently cornering the market to monopolize all salt.”

“…What?”

The sudden, unprompted mention of salt left me completely bewildered.

However, my confusion lasted only a brief second. As the two servants rapidly provided a combined explanation, my mind went entirely blank.

“Furthermore, rumors are flying absolutely everywhere that the Namgung Clan is using that monopolized salt to aggressively line their own pockets.”

“And that the Young Master of the Namgung Clan completely abandoned his lawful spouse because he was thoroughly blinded by greed and wealth!”

No, wait… people actually believed that nonsense?

If we were strictly looking at the financial numbers, even if Yeon Ji-oh was the son of a prominent salt merchant or held some grand hidden status, his family wouldn’t even be fit to touch the bare heels of Mangeum Bank.

No, scratch that—the wealth comparison wasn’t the main issue right now. Sucking in a sharp, bewildered breath at the sudden escalation, I frantically questioned them.

“Where on earth did this sudden narrative about salt even originate from?”

“The thing is… it appears the sequence of events where our estate personally threw salt at Yeon Ji-oh and the Namgung Clan was passed from mouth to mouth, heavily distorting the truth as it spread across the city.”

“…So the rumor was twisted like that—no, wait. Honestly, it actually makes a bizarre amount of sense.”

Considering the sheer absurdity of the rumors that historically targeted my own life, having the salt-throwing incident warped into a corporate conspiracy was actually incredibly tame.

The moment I took a slow sip of my cold tea, Jin-cheong continued to map out the current gossip sweeping the city.

“Aside from that, all sorts of bizarre tales are currently dominating Hefei. To summarize the situation briefly, the Young Master of the Namgung Clan has been completely branded as a despicable traitor who abandoned his partner after falling victim to money and a honey trap, while Yeon Ji-oh is currently widely recognized as the ultimate villain of the realm.”

As I clicked my tongue at the sheer irony of the situation, Jin-cheong frantically cupped his hands in a formal martial salute and lowered his head in dismay.

“I am profoundly sorry, Young Master.”

“What reason do you possibly have to bow your head? Rumors are naturally designed to spread wildly like that anyway.”

Honestly, just knowing that highly unfavorable rumors were actively ruining Namgung Hwi and Yeon Ji-oh’s reputations was more than satisfying enough for me. Twirling the rim of my teacup with my fingertips, I quietly muttered to myself.

“Still, I genuinely never anticipated the salt incident would be interpreted that way.”

Weaving a connection to Yeon Ji-oh’s background as a salt merchant’s son was clever enough, but to think the gossip would balloon to the point where the public believed the Namgung Clan was actively trying to corner the entire salt market was spectacular.

As expected, one had to be exceptionally careful never to do anything that could trigger the gossip mill within the borders of Hefei.

I lifted my teacup to take another sip, only to realize it was already completely empty. Noticing my fingers idly tracing the dry rim, Yeo-ui instantly stepped forward to refill it.

“Huu.”

Draining the fresh cup in a single, fluid gulp, I felt the lingering agitation inside my chest firmly settle down. Letting out a soft sigh, I completely steadied my wandering thoughts.

I possessed firsthand knowledge of just how terrifyingly destructive a rumor could be. Because I understood its weight, I needed to ensure I kept an incredibly low profile moving forward. Watching Yeo-ui’s hands naturally moving to fill my empty cup once more, I decided to continue the conversation—partly to keep my wits sharp, and partly to ensure the bamboo-hatted stranger sitting nearby wouldn’t grow suspicious of our silence.

“So, how is the Namgung Clan currently responding to these wild, floating rumors?”

“They aren’t capable of offering any proper response. At present, the Namgung Clan has been completely severed from all business relations with Mangeum Bank, leaving them entirely too occupied trying to maintain internal discipline within their own household.”

“…Well, that is certainly sweet revenge.”

I had personally overheard my family declaring they would permanently sever all ties with the Namgung Clan, but I hadn’t expected them to execute the order with such instantaneous, ruthless efficiency.

While a highly satisfied smirk was painting my features, my eyes chanced upon Yeo-ui, who was nervously fidgeting with his teacup right beside Jin-cheong.

“Do you have something you wish to say?”

“The thing is, Young Master…”

“Go ahead.”

I found myself wondering what kind of catastrophic rumor he was hesitating to bring to light this time. While I offered a calm, unbothered nod of my head, Yeo-ui—who had been restlessly twisting his cup—finally opened his mouth.

“Would it be alright if I ordered something to eat?”

…And here I was, expecting a grand revelation.

Instantly losing all my built-up tension, I delivered a thoroughly deadpan reply.

“If there is something you wish to eat, simply order whatever your heart desires.”

“Yes, Young Master!”

The exact second my permission was granted, an incredibly delighted Yeo-ui immediately turned to summon the waiter. Despite the relatively low volume of his call, the waiter rapidly ascended the wooden stairs and stood directly beside our table. While I was quietly observing Yeo-ui happily listing off dishes, Jin-cheong subtly turned to address me.

“Would you care to have a light bite as well, Young Master?”

“I’ll simply take a small portion of whatever Yeo-ui orders. I’m not particularly ravenous right now.”

“In that case, should I add a few more dishes to the list?”

Having caught the drift of my response, Yeo-ui immediately chimed in. It appeared he harbored a few extra delicacies he desperately wanted to try. The moment I offered a nod of assent, Yeo-ui rapidly added two more items to the order.

“And what about you, Lord Cheong?”

“I shall also simply share a portion of the food.”

“Then should we perhaps order a bit more—”

“The items already ordered are more than sufficient.”

Jin-cheong immediately interjected to block Yeo-ui from expanding the feast any further.

Given that this was our first proper outing in a very long time, I wouldn’t have minded indulging a bit to lift our spirits, but just as Jin-cheong had noted, the sheer volume of food currently ordered was already more than enough to leave the three of us completely stuffed.

Though, in reality, it felt as if Jin-cheong’s reason for shutting down the order had absolutely nothing to do with the portion sizes.

The movement was so incredibly microscopic that I almost missed it entirely, but Jin-cheong’s head was subtly, repeatedly tilting toward the direction of the stranger wearing the black bamboo hat.

Actively pretending to be completely oblivious to his silent warning, I smoothly aligned myself with Jin-cheong’s judgment.

“We can always return to sample the other delicacies next time.”

“…Are you genuinely promising to bring us back here next time, Young Master?”

“Of course I am.”

Unless I suddenly decided to embark on another spontaneous travel excursion, I fully intended to permanently reside right here in Hefei for the foreseeable future.

“Then I shall leave the order exactly as it is.”

“I will have everything prepared and brought up immediately, guests.”

The moment Yeo-ui finalized the selections, the waiter rapidly descended to the lower floor. While my eyes were casually tracing his retreating figure, a sudden, piercing sensation prickled at my skin.

Reflexively snapping my head toward the source, my gaze locked onto the bamboo-hatted man, who was currently pouring water into a fresh cup left behind by the waiter.

“…….”

If I hadn’t witnessed Jin-cheong adopting such an intensely guarded posture just a moment ago, I would have simply dismissed it as a figment of my overactive imagination. However, watching the man execute such an incredibly natural movement—as if he hadn’t just been boring holes into our table a split-second prior—instantly forced me to raise my own psychological defenses against him.

It was glaringly obvious that maintaining absolute silence regarding any further matters concerning the Namgung Clan was our safest bet.

Plunging myself into absolute silence, I turned my eyes back out the wooden railing. Attempting to shift the focus entirely, I compared the current state of Hefei with how it looked right after our return, before reviving the topic of the festival.

“If the streets remain this desolate throughout the duration of the festival, the local merchants are going to face an incredibly difficult financial situation.”

“Indeed. After all, a massive number of vendors aggressively rely on this specific peak season to sustain themselves.”

“There is barely a week left until the main events begin, yet encountering an absolute lack of crowds like this is a first. Why, just a short while ago, the streets were entirely…”

Flowing along with Jin-cheong’s analysis, Yeo-ui suddenly trailed off mid-sentence. Intrigued by the abrupt silence, I shifted my gaze toward him, prompting the boy to rapidly avert his eyes and frantically drain his entire teacup in a desperate bid to avoid my gaze.

To an ordinary observer, it might have appeared as though he were merely struck by a sudden bout of thirst, but I had been observing Yeo-ui’s behavior for several years.

Recognizing his deeply flustered countenance for what it truly was, I gave a firm, encouraging nod of my head, silently ordering him to finish his thought. After a long moment of visible hesitation, Yeo-ui finally forced the remaining words past his lips.