I set the contract down gently on the table’s smooth surface and voiced my growing suspicion.
“Isn’t something about this just a little off, somehow?”
“What exactly are you referring to?”
“This very contract itself. The ones who drew it up must have been the previous manor lord and the previous hall master, correct?”
“That’s right.”
“A hall master might overlook such details in a martial pursuit, but a manor lord dealing with estates and tenants day in and day out—this kind of bare-bones document feels utterly out of place. Just one solitary line for something meant to bind agreements over land? It strikes me as deeply unusual.”
At my observation, Escort Chief Ha inclined his head in thoughtful agreement.
“Indeed, upon reflection, it does seem peculiar. The previous manor lord was a figure of considerable wealth and renown in these parts. For someone accustomed to managing vast sums, even a contract born of goodwill would surely include at least the standard formalities to make it proper and binding.”
Escort Chief Ha appeared to align precisely with my line of thinking.
With his seniority in escort work compared to even Master, he must have encountered and reviewed countless such documents over the years.
That experience likely allowed him to catch my implication without delay.
“He was known as a man of meticulous precision in all affairs. And…”
Escort Chief Ha pressed on with his thoughts.
“The previous hall master was no mere fool lost in the arts of combat and oblivious to worldly practicalities.”
Hall Master Yeom, absorbing our exchange, nodded slowly as the pieces began to connect for him too.
“Now that you bring it up, yes—it really does stand out as strange.”
Gazing intently at the contract spread before me, I articulated my hunch.
“There’s a strong chance something is concealed within this document, hidden in plain sight.”
We dove into a careful examination, poring over every inch and fold with renewed focus.
Yet, despite our thorough scrutiny—flipping edges, angling it toward the light—nothing unusual emerged.
The paper showed no irregular thickness anywhere, no faint traces of invisible ink under scrutiny, and the wording itself lacked even the slightest hint of wordplay or ambiguity; it remained a model of straightforward, unambiguous prose.
“Haa…”
I exhaled a weary sigh, laying the contract aside once more before tilting my head back to stare at the ceiling’s weathered beams.
“This is proving far more challenging than expected. I can’t shake the feeling that there’s definitely something here, lurking just beyond our grasp…”
“You’re absolutely right about that.”
Escort Chief Ha and Hall Master Yeom both seemed somewhat fatigued by the effort, leaning back against their chairs with expressions of mild exasperation.
Ah, perhaps it was the prolonged strain of staring at that unyielding sheet of paper—my vision now danced with lingering afterimages, blurring the edges of everything before me.
There had to be a clue embedded somewhere; surrendering at this juncture simply wasn’t an option.
If I yielded so easily now, how could I ever hope to realize my grand ambition of forging the world’s foremost merchant group?
Gathering my resolve once again, I refocused my gaze on the contract and resumed my inspection.
As my eyes fell upon the stamped seals of the previous hall master and manor lord, I rubbed them to clear the haze.
Were those afterimages still playing tricks?
No, they weren’t illusions at all.
That tiny dot marring the manor lord’s seal—surely just a careless spill of ink?
No, that didn’t hold up.
Typically, one would negotiate every detail, ensure no further alterations were needed, and only then commit the final version to paper before affixing the seal.
Of course, it was possible for a droplet of ink from the brush to land coincidentally where the seal pressed.
However, this mark didn’t resemble a random accident.
The form differed markedly from a natural ink splatter versus one intentionally placed.
In other words, this small dot on the manor lord’s seal had been added deliberately.
And upon closer notice, the overall design of the manor lord’s seal itself carried an oddly distinctive flair?
The two men observed my intent focus and ventured a cautious query.
“Have you uncovered something?”
“Doesn’t this strike you as peculiar?”
I pointed directly to the manor lord’s seal and shared my emerging theory, prompting nods of concurrence from both.
“Now that you mention it…”
“Without question, it’s abnormal.”
“But consider this seal in particular. Its pattern feels rather unique, doesn’t it?”
“Does it, now?”
A sense of familiarity tugged at me, elusive yet insistent.
I was certain I’d encountered this exact configuration somewhere in the past…
For what felt like a full quarter-hour, we passed the contract around, rotating it slowly under the room’s dim light to dissect the seal’s intricate motif.
“…!”
In that instant, a flash of insight struck like lightning across my mind.
I finally comprehended the symbolic meaning behind the seal’s elaborate shape.
“I’ve figured it out.”
“Pardon?”
“The form of this seal—it’s a stylized representation of West Lake and the surrounding terrain.”
My revelation prompted Escort Chief Ha and Hall Master Yeom to furrow their brows in curiosity; they leaned in to peer at the seal, gradually turning the contract this way and that for a better angle. As understanding dawned, astonishment spread across their features.
“Extraordinary!”
“It truly matches!”
This revelation owed much to my past life’s extensive preparations for ventures around Hangzhou—I had traversed the West Lake vicinity countless times, mapping it in exhaustive detail with my own hands.
“Then, that dot stamped right here…”
I nodded affirmatively and elaborated.
“Precisely. It points to a high likelihood that something is concealed at that very location.”
.
.
.
Though we had unraveled this vital thread, we resolved to delay any physical pursuit for several days yet.
With outsiders like us present, the manor lord’s retainers might well be keeping a watchful eye on the premises.
It wouldn’t do to arouse their suspicions through hasty or conspicuous actions.
Emerging from the hall master’s office, I decided to explore the grounds under Hall Master Yeom’s guidance.
Hm, the structures as a whole appear quite weathered and in need of attention.
Before long, we happened upon the nannies diligently tending to the young children.
“They look rather overwhelmed with tasks.”
“That they do. Haha.”
The hall bore the sign of a martial training ground, yet it served equally as a nurturing haven for the little ones.
In essence, a significant portion of the children growing up here were barely out of infancy, still taking their first wobbly steps.
Even with five dedicated nannies on hand, it was evident their efforts fell short of covering every need.
The infants confined to their beds posed fewer challenges, but those newly mobile refused to stay still for even a moment.
“Would it be alright if I lent a hand to assist?”
“Are you certain you’re up for it?”
Hall Master Yeom expressed his concern with a furrowed brow.
“To be frank, the children tend not to heed instructions easily. And they burst into tears without rhyme or reason… leaving one utterly baffled as to the cause…”
In that moment, he resembled nothing so much as a father worn thin by the relentless demands of childcare.
“It’s not as though I harbor any resentment toward them, mind you…”
“I understand completely. Believe me, I do.”
“My gratitude for your empathy.”
“In any case, with no pressing matters on my agenda today, I’d like to help out where I can.”
I moved toward the children alongside Palgap, while Hall Master Yeom took the opportunity to brief the nannies about my presence.
“Ah! So you’re the generous sponsor from that time.”
“We can’t express how thankful we were.”
“Your willingness to aid us is deeply appreciated, but please be assured—you’re fine with this? Looking after children demands far more energy than one might imagine.”
“Yes, I’m more than prepared.”
I still needed to rendezvous with Great Thief Chun-il later for intelligence, but that encounter was best suited for the cover of night.
With time to spare until supper, this seemed an ideal chance to build a bit of rapport.
“Then we shall leave it in your capable hands.”
“If it’s not too much trouble, perhaps you could engage them in play that tires them out swiftly. Otherwise, they often resist sleep come bedtime.”
“Ah…”
I inclined my head in acknowledgment.
“Lack of rest at night can truly hinder their development. Understood.”
After absorbing a handful of practical tips and precautions, I approached the group of children.
All told, there were twenty-three of them, ranging in age from four to six years.
Drawing near, I offered a warm, reassuring smile.
“Hello there.”
“Uh…”
“Ah…”
The children tensed briefly at the approach of an unfamiliar face, but that hesitation melted away as they toddled forward with eager curiosity.
“Ah, hello.”
They even twisted their little bodies shyly while offering their greetings—a far cry from the boisterous energy I’d witnessed earlier.
How remarkably well-mannered they seemed.
Puzzled by the shift, I glanced sidelong at the nannies, only to find them exchanging looks of utter bewilderment.
What could account for that? Surely such docility was a positive trait?
From nearby, Palgap murmured under his breath, his words barely audible.
“Truly, this world’s corruption runs deep—even the children favor a fair face above all.”
“Hm? What was that?”
“Nothing at all, Young Master.”
Shaking off my confusion, I turned my attention back to the children.
“We’re going to have some fun together today.”
Then, I instructed Palgap to retrieve a gourd and a length of string.
Accepting them, I fashioned a simple tether by binding the string to the gourd’s neck, then addressed the eager faces before me.
“From this moment, your task is to catch hold of this gourd. Every child who manages it will receive a delightful reward of sweet tanghulu.”
“Yay!”
“And begin!”
I dangled the gourd tantalizingly just beyond their reach, sending the children into a whirlwind of joyful scrambles and leaps.
“Here, give this a try.”
“Waaah!”
“Eyah!”
“Ah!”
“It’s over here!”
Whenever the pursuit risked frustrating them into disinterest, I lowered it ever so slightly to allow a triumphant grasp.
“Yay! I caught it!”
The moment the first success occurred, a spark of hopeful excitement gleamed in their wide eyes.
We continued this lively game for roughly two hours, by which point weariness began to claim the little ones, one by one.
Yet I remained entirely unfatigued.
Even the physical demands of keeping pace with their boundless energy were easily countered by my honed endurance as a martial artist and the steady flow of inner energy sustaining me.
Since ascending to peak mastery, Master’s rigorous regimen had never once omitted stamina drills, honing me to the point where I could dangle from a tree branch for three or four full days without a hint of exhaustion.
Hm…
Perhaps I owed Master a debt of gratitude for that unyielding discipline?
With such considerations drifting through my mind, I adjusted the game’s difficulty to ensure every child savored the victory of seizing the gourd.
After all, my intention had been to distribute tanghulu treats to them all from the outset.
Tanghulu consisted of hawthorn berries skewered on sticks and coated in a glistening layer of hardened sugar syrup—a simple yet irresistible snack.
Its preparation relied on the syrup setting firm in chilly air, rendering it a winter delicacy alone.
Zhejiang’s typically temperate climate confined it to the depths of the cold season, but this year’s unusually early frost had already summoned vendors to the streets.
I chose tanghulu for its subtle benefits: the hawthorn fruit bolstered resistance to colds, hastened recovery from fatigue, and even promoted healthy skin.
Winter offered scant fruits beyond hawthorns, yet it was these very virtues that elevated them into this cherished confection.
And, of course, their tangy-sweet flavor made them all the more appealing to young palates.
Settling among the children as they nibbled away, I found the simple scene rather enjoyable in its own quiet way.
Once I confirmed they had finished every last morsel, I rose to my feet.
With bellies full, it was time to get them moving once more.
Lingering in repose after eating risked unwanted weight gain and a sluggish body—hardly conducive to the rigors of martial cultivation.
Clap clap!
“Very well, shall we try a different game now?”
“Yes!”
.
.
.
As the sun dipped toward the horizon, casting long shadows across the yard, signs of exhaustion became evident among the children—several nodding off with drowsy eyelids.
Having romped about for hours on end, it was only natural.
Witnessing this, the nannies swiftly guided the weary little ones to their rest, then approached me with faces alight in genuine emotion, offering their heartfelt thanks.
“To entertain them so thoroughly and effectively!”
“You’re truly remarkable.”
“Thanks to you, we should enjoy a peaceful night for once.”
“Hahaha.”
I had merely thrown myself into the play with full vigor, yet receiving such praise left me feeling a touch bashful.
“But truly, are you alright? Not worn out in the least?”
In response to their gentle inquiry, I offered a light-hearted smile.
“Quite alright, I assure you. This level of activity is merely a trifle…”
Casting a quick glance toward the chamber where the children now slumbered, I posed a question to the nannies.
“That aside, for a place raising the offspring of the Northern Sea Ice Palace, the number of children seems surprisingly modest.”
From what I’d heard, the palace itself commanded a formidable scale.
“It’s unavoidable, really. Women of the Northern Sea Ice Palace rarely enter into marriage.”
While the palace imposed no outright prohibition on wedlock, those who joined often carried personal histories that distanced them from notions of family life.
Thus, the very idea seldom crossed their minds.
“Even in those rare instances where one might encounter a man and choose to wed, it’s usually the child’s father who assumes the rearing… though such arrangements aren’t always feasible.”
One of the nannies adopted a faintly bitter expression as she spoke.
“The father might perish, or…”
Simply abandon them.
“It’s worrisome, all the same. Relocating in weather this bitter…”
“Indeed.”
“I can only hope none of the children fall ill with colds.”
Having served here for years, they were intimately acquainted with the hall’s precarious circumstances.
The impending move, slated squarely in the heart of winter.
Upon further reflection, the manor lord’s conduct grew all the more infuriating.
Surely he knew this was a sanctuary for nurturing young lives—yet to demand their departure amid the dead of such a harsh season? What sort of rational mind conceived that?
This winter’s grip proved exceptionally severe; even the usually temperate waters of West Lake had frozen over in thick sheets.
.
.
.
That night, under the veil of darkness, I quietly slipped away from the hall.
I wandered the serene paths encircling West Lake, allowing the tranquil night air to soothe my thoughts.
West Lake boasted its famed Ten Scenic Views, among them the evocative Broken Bridge with Residual Snow.
It depicted a bridge blanketed in snow, creating an illusion of severance amid the drifts.
Yet, with snowfall poised to be exceptionally scarce for the coming years, this particular vista would elude admirers for some time.
Even so, intrepid souls ventured out on boats to tour the lake’s frozen beauty in the biting cold.
As I paused to admire the interplay of moonlight on the ice, a familiar presence drew near with unobtrusive grace.
“Long time no see.”
It was Great Thief Chun-il, now a valued operative within our merchant group’s intelligence network.
Turning, I beheld a man whose features bore no resemblance to the one I remembered.
Even his voice had been masterfully altered.
His disguise techniques never failed to impress, no matter how many times I witnessed them.
He drew closer and commenced his report in a subdued tone.
“The current manor lord goes by the name Seong Jun. While he falls short of his predecessor’s prowess, sources describe him as competent enough—not hopelessly inept.”
“A certain intuition tells me there’s more to it.”
“Quite so. In stark contrast to the late lord’s widespread admiration, Seong Jun’s reputation suffers from his overt greed; whispers among the locals paint him in an unflattering light.”
As anticipated…
The annals of history brimmed with tales of unworthy heirs squandering the legacies of illustrious forebears.
“The previous manor lord, Seong Ji-myeong, was a man of exceptional talent and unassailable integrity, by all accounts. The Seong clan’s present stature owes its foundation almost entirely to his efforts.”
“I see.”
“This affair appears to stem directly from Seong Jun’s insatiable ambitions. Word has it he intends to launch a fresh venture into the entertainment trade.”
Hold on—launching a ‘new’ foray into ‘entertainment’?
That implied the late manor lord had steered entirely clear of such pursuits.
In a prosperous hub like Hangzhou, where fortunes flowed from every opportunity, why on earth would he abstain?
–TL Notes–
Tired of seeing Ads? Then please support me on Patreon! Any tier of subscription will make it so you won’t get any ads!
If you want to support me or give me feedback, you can do it at patreon.com/InsanityTheGame
Join my Discord! https://discord.gg/BWaP3AHHpt