Chapter 16
“I’ll settle the payment.”
The boy with the short sword nodded as if he’d been expecting that.
“Very well. Then how would you like to settle it? We accept gold, silver, promissory notes, even land deeds.”
I shook my head again.
“Not those. I’d like to offer something else.”
“That’s fine, but depending on what you offer, calculating its value may take some time. I ask for your understanding in advance. Is it some kind of treasure?”
“Something like that.”
The boy nodded, eyes faintly glimmering with expectation.
He was curious about what kind of treasure the heir of the Golden Coin Merchant Guild would present.
I couldn’t read his mind, but he was probably already thinking this might be an opportunity to fleece me.
Little did he know it would be the other way around.
It didn’t take long for his eager gaze to irritate me.
“…Well, aren’t you going to show it?”
He urged me.
I hadn’t been trying to drag it out.
“Wait a moment.”
Instead, I turned my body and looked off toward the distant ridgeline.
Even without seeing his face, I could feel how flustered he was.
And at the same time, the atmosphere began to shift—
from me being in the position of having to beg, to him being the one growing impatient.
The word treasure had clearly made him anxious.
Nothing tantalizes a person more than a treasure just out of reach.
It hadn’t been my intention, but I decided to use it to my advantage.
“I did some calculations. But the more I think about it, the more it feels like I’m the one losing out.”
When I drew my gaze back from the ridge and said that, his retort came at once.
“You go too far with your jokes. If you continue like this, please understand we may be unable to accept your request.”
A boy who had been hardened by the martial world suddenly reverted to being just a boy his age.
I smiled faintly at his petulant expression.
Angered, he turned the boat’s prow aside.
“Let’s pretend this request never happened. No matter what you present, I’ll refuse it.”
So he really had taken offense, thinking I was mocking him.
In that case…
“Aren’t you curious? Curious about what kind of treasure I would use to pay?”
The ferry that had been moving slowly suddenly halted for a moment—then resumed.
His voice came, cold as ice:
“Not. At. All. Curious. Just give me money instead. I admit I got a little carried away just now, so let’s forget about you mocking me.”
“If I’d planned to do that, I would have done so from the start. No—I’ll be paying with the treasure I possess.”
“…I don’t know what exactly you think you’re offering, but fine. I’ll wait until we reach the dock. If you still insist then, I’ll refuse no matter what you put forth.”
So my tactic had backfired a little.
Still, I wanted to praise him—he had calmed down quickly, and that was commendable.
I had planned to tease him further, but even if things weren’t going exactly as expected, it wasn’t a problem.
“You should save such words until after you’ve seen what treasure it is.”
It was about time I laid down my cards.
By now, he wouldn’t be able to ignore it, no matter what he said.
“Guiheobo.”
I dropped the name casually.
The boy tilted his head in puzzlement.
Doesn’t know it? Well, a hundred years have passed, after all.
Guiheobo was a movement technique, revealed only once a century ago—and that in Hao Sect.
It was natural it would be forgotten. Still, just in case…
“Do you know the name Guiheoja?”
At once, his eyes widened like lanterns.
“The Shadowless Fist, Guiheoja!”
A smile tugged at my lips.
I had thought it wouldn’t matter whether he remembered or not—but clearly, I had wanted it to matter.
“So you do know. That makes it simpler. Guiheobo is none other than Guiheoja’s movement technique.”
His expression, moments ago indifferent, now turned to pure shock.
Not surprising, if he knew who Guiheoja was.
After all, what has just reappeared is the long-lost secret art of a former Hao Sect leader.
There was one thing widely known about Hao Sect:
its martial arts were pitifully crude, unworthy of its size.
Its members were mostly ordinary folk or those of low birth.
On rare occasions, someone with great skill appeared, but their arts were quickly lost.
That was the nature of Hao Sect—
a group formed not from kinship, but from clashing interests.
Though they bore the same name, they were never truly one.
Factional strife and power struggles defined its history.
So it was natural that its martial arts were rarely passed down intact.
That was why I knew.
Their obsession with strong martial arts bordered on madness.
Not only did they hunger for new techniques, they were relentless in seeking the ones they had lost.
I had seen it all with my own eyes.
Over a hundred years ago, wandering the martial world with Jinchun.
Those days had been fun.
As I was lost in memory, the boy’s voice pierced into my ear.
“…Do you really have Guiheoja’s martial art?”
Though his face was flushed with heat, doubt filled his eyes.
Surprisingly fierce for a child his age—if I didn’t answer properly, he looked ready to fight.
For a moment I was tempted to tease him again, but I decided not to.
“Do I look like someone who would tell a lie that could be exposed so easily?”
“As the heir of the Golden Coin Guild… no, you would have no reason to.”
“Then you can believe me.”
It seemed my earlier teasing had actually helped.
“You’ll let me confirm it, then. I’ll give my trust after that.”
Instead of losing his temper, he kept calm.
Watching a boy mature was always delightful.
“Would you be able to show me the manual or a passage from it?”
I nodded.
I had intended from the start to show him something.
Otherwise they would never believe me.
But not in the way he wanted.
I don’t have a manual, and I can’t even be bothered to recite passages.
So I would demonstrate.
Just as Jinchun had once been acknowledged by Hao Sect.
Though I wonder if I can still do it properly…
Guiheobo—the “Ghost Steps.”
It was said ghosts cast no shadows, and in this technique, the steps left no shadow either.
Despite my worries, my body began moving without hesitation.
Tadadak!
The ferry was so small that only one or two could sit comfortably.
There was barely room to turn, yet it didn’t hinder the Ghost Steps in the least.
It was clumsy, with mistakes here and there.
But it didn’t matter.
No one but me would know.
It was a secret art that had left its mark on the martial world, but now almost no one remembered.
So who could catch my mistakes, who could correct me?
Only I remembered fully.
Only I knew the truth behind it.
Jinchun, are you watching? This was your creation.
Back when the world had not yet known the greatest prodigy would emerge—
Jinchun, that mad genius, had once concealed his identity and taken up the mantle of Hao Sect leader.
He called himself Guiheoja, earned the title “Shadowless Fist,” and hid his true name.
I never understood his actions back then.
But I had enjoyed them—and gladly followed along.
Until they tried to drive a dagger into his back.
I have no intention of becoming Hao Sect leader like you did.
That betrayal had been no more than the thrashings of petty men.
They had not even scratched his robe, yet they left scars that lasted forever.
That was why I hesitated, why I could never shake my prejudice against Hao Sect.
But times change, and so do the people in it.
Those who had betrayed him were long dead.
It had been a century.
I wasn’t about to punish today’s Hao Sect for the sins of the past.
Yes. I would no longer cling to old grudges.
And yet—
I wanted to show them once, at least.
To show them the man they had discarded, and the martial art he had created for them.
But such feelings are fickle.
After one sequence, I stopped.
The first thing I noticed when I halted was the boy’s trembling eyes.
For a moment I wondered—what did he see?
A ghost?
Or Jinchun himself?
But that thought faded quickly.
“Did you enjoy the show?”
The boy snapped out of his daze with a gasp, suddenly drawing breath as though he’d been holding it in.
I chuckled at the sight.
Jinchun, it seems your martial art still has the power to entrance children.
And the boy’s eyes did not leave me.
The heat in them remained, though its hue had changed—
from suspicion, to admiration.
Thus was born a new willing mark.
“I thank you for the demonstration.”
Even his tone had become polite and cautious.
He didn’t even ask whether it was truly Guiheobo.
Instead, I asked him:
“What if it wasn’t Guiheobo? Don’t you doubt me?”
“Doubt? Impossible. I trust my eyes. Just as the records say—your steps left no shadow.”
That answer intrigued me.
“There are records?”
“Yes.”
“…I see.”
I had heard that after betraying Jinchun, they’d tried to erase every trace of him.
Yet records remained.
I thought only rumors whispered from mouth to mouth survived.
A strange urge stirred in me—to read those records myself, to see how they remembered him.
But I shook my head.
Pointless.
The Ghost Steps I had just performed were enough.
Clinging to the dead would do neither of us any good.
I would let go.
Or so I thought.
But perhaps I would delay it just a little longer—
For the boy looked at me timidly and asked:
“May I ask… what was your relationship with Guiheoja?”
Not unexpected.
From his perspective, it was a natural question.
He must have wondered if I was disciple, successor, or heir.
That was where his newfound admiration came from.
But I could not give him the answer he imagined.
My reply had already been decided.
“I was his friend.”
“…What?”
“A close companion.”
“Ah… I see.”
The boy looked at me strangely—after all, I had just claimed friendship with someone from a century ago.
But I didn’t care.
I had spoken the truth.
His eyes shifted again, from admiration back to this man is strange.
No matter.
Because thanks to the Ghost Steps, everything after that flowed smoothly.
“We will bring the information you requested to you in two days’ time.”
“Good.”
“And… how do you intend to pass down Guiheobo to us?”
At that, a faint smile crept onto my lips.
