At my words, Cheongcheon stared at me with a dumbfounded expression.
"You want the will?"
"Yes. On the condition that this matter is quietly settled and the side effects of the Blood Rain Demonic Art are removed."
"......"
"You didn’t already tear it up or burn it, did you?" That would complicate things...
Fortunately, Cheongcheon shook his head.
It seemed he had hidden the will somewhere safe.
At that moment, Cheongcheon’s expression hardened as he shook his head again.
"I have no intention of revealing the contents of the will. I’d rather die than expose the fact that he was my biological father..."
"Tsk tsk. Why are people so naive?"
"Naive, you say?"
I clicked my tongue lightly and asked Cheongcheon, "Is your name exactly written in the will?"
"...... No. It was written as Heocheon, following his surname. It says to pass all the inheritance to Heocheon..."
Clap!
I clapped my hands and smiled brightly.
"Really? Then that’s even better."
"What’s so good about it! That man just took my mother’s surname and—!"
Misunderstanding my words, Cheongcheon flared up with anger.
But that wasn’t what I meant.
"Your name is Cheongcheon, right? And what’s written there is Heocheon, correct?"
"...... So?"
Smirk.
I couldn’t stop the corners of my mouth from curling up.
The plan in my head was gradually taking shape, forming a complete picture.
"Even if it said Cheongcheon, it wouldn’t matter. How many people in the world share the same name?"
"Don’t tell me..."
Cheongcheon wasn’t so slow that he couldn’t understand even after I’d said this much.
He caught on to my plan and asked, "Are you saying you’ll impersonate me and take the inheritance in my place?"
Bingo.
I intended to become the "Heocheon" written in the will and claim the inheritance that the rightful heir had abandoned.
"It’s not that hard. All I need is an identity tag and a face mask."
"...... Forging an identity isn’t as easy as you make it sound. And if some stranger suddenly shows up claiming the inheritance, do you think they’ll just believe it? They’ll definitely investigate..."
The "they" Cheongcheon was referring to were Madam Son, the owner of the Red Flower Pavilion, and Bok Man-chun, the bodyguard.
The two most likely suspects in the murder of Old Man Heo and the ones closest to him.
To swallow the inheritance without a hitch, we’d have to deceive them.
But I had a plan for them too.
Right in front of me.
"You’re such a blockhead. Who are you?"
"Me? If you suddenly ask who I am..."
Cheongcheon lowered his head and fell deep into thought.
I smacked the back of his head with a thwack!
He looked at me with a wronged expression.
"Who’s asking you to answer the essence of human existence? What’s your job!"
"...... A, a patrol officer. A patrol officer."
Cheongcheon answered hesitantly, but I liked his answer very much.
That’s right.
Cheongcheon’s job was a patrol officer.
Martial artists looked down on patrol officers because their martial arts weren’t impressive, but the value of a patrol officer wasn’t in their martial arts.
"It means you’re a government official who passed the military examination."
"......"
The highest-ranking official in charge of public security in the office where Cheongcheon worked was the Patrol Commander.
Below him were several Patrol Captains, and then came the patrol officers.
Saying it like this might make it sound insignificant, but patrol officers were the ones who ran around on the ground, investigating cases and catching criminals.
And they commanded dozens of constables under them.
'In other words, they’re the ones who actually enforce the law in the city.'
Old Man Heo had initially tried to bribe Cheongcheon, only to realize how much he resembled him.
So, to put it simply,
"Getting a new identity tag made. That’s not too hard, is it?"
"Well..."
As a patrol officer in a large city like Nanchang, Cheongcheon had to have a decent network of connections.
Even if he had lived a clean and honest life up until he killed Old Man Heo.
"My identity can be vouched for by them too."
"Huh..."
If he accepted my proposal now, Cheongcheon would become my accomplice.
From the moment his identity as the murderer was exposed, he was already tied to me, but now we’d be bound by fate.
"Choose."
I didn’t give Cheongcheon much time to think.
"Will you settle this case cleanly and cure the side effects of the Blood Rain Demonic Art? Or..."
I smiled coldly and continued.
"Will you have all your dirty secrets exposed, be dragged to the Martial Alliance, and tortured to the point of death until you fabricate memories about the black-cloaked man who gave you the demonic art?"
"...... There’s only one choice from the start."
Cheongcheon, his face pale, looked at me and slowly nodded.
The top floor of the Red Flower Pavilion.
Madam Son stroked the jewels and gold ingots filling her room’s safe, smiling contentedly.
"So beautiful. Truly lovely."
In her life, she had seen many beautiful women and men, but all of them had aged and withered with time.
But gold, silver, and jewels never aged, never changed, and never betrayed.
That’s why she couldn’t help but love them.
'It’s all mine.
This Red Flower Pavilion, and that old man’s inheritance!'
When she thought of Old Man Heo’s face, Madam Son’s expression instantly turned venomous.
'That snake of a man.
He died well.
He died well.'
She had become Old Man Heo’s concubine over thirty years ago.
The hardships she endured during that time were extreme.
She had been beaten many times and suffered humiliations she didn’t even want to remember.
Though things had improved slightly as Old Man Heo aged and became more docile, and as his mind began to wander, the resentment she had built up over the years only deepened, never fading.
Crack.
"...... If that stupid son of his hadn’t killed him, I would have done it myself someday."
But she wouldn’t have made a scene like Heo Il.
Quietly, just a drop of poison in a wine cup would have been enough.
'I wanted to see his face writhing in pain before he died...'
That was a pity, but perhaps it was better that she hadn’t dirtied her hands.
Hugging the gold and silver to her chest, she murmured softly.
"...... Now, all we need is the will."
Heo Il, Old Man Heo’s only son, was dead (who knew how many illegitimate children there were, but it didn’t matter).
Old Man Heo, who had been born an orphan, had no other relatives besides Heo Il.
His legal wife had also died long ago.
In other words, there was no rightful heir to his fortune.
That’s why the will had to be found.
If it couldn’t be found, it had to be forged.
'We can have the handwriting and seal forged by Haomun, bribe the officials, and bring the most beautiful girls to their sides...'
Men with dangling appendages were always weak to women and money.
For someone like her, who ran one of the top ten brothels in Nanchang, manipulating such men was easier than flipping her hand.
"Hohoho!"
Madam Son was in high spirits.
She was already imagining herself in possession of all of Old Man Heo’s wealth.
Until Patrol Officer Cheongcheon came to see her.
Cheongcheon arrived with Bok Man-chun, Old Man Heo’s bodyguard, and a man she had never seen before.
Feeling uneasy, Madam Son asked, "What brings you here...?"
"Could you clear the room, please?"
At Cheongcheon’s request, all the workers left, leaving only Cheongcheon, Madam Son, Bok Man-chun, and the unfamiliar man in the room.
With his usual expressionless face, Cheongcheon delivered news that struck like a thunderbolt.
"We’ve found the will Old Man Heo left behind."
"What?"
"Huh?"
Even Bok Man-chun, who had come with him, seemed to be hearing this for the first time as he shot up from his seat.
Cheongcheon gestured for him to sit down and continued.
Today, his expression seemed particularly stiff.
"Since the two of you were closely involved with the victim, I thought it best to inform you first, so I arranged this private meeting."
At that moment, Madam Son felt her heart drop.
'Of all people, it had to be Cheongcheon, the notoriously rigid patrol officer, who found the will...'
If Old Man Heo had written something unnecessary in it, things could get messy.
She had a bad feeling about this.
"A will, all of a sudden..."
Bok Man-chun was equally bewildered.
As someone employed by Old Man Heo, he was essentially unemployed now that his employer was dead.
Depending on what was written in the will, his future could change drastically.
Then, Bok Man-chun’s gaze shifted to the young man beside Cheongcheon.
"But who is this? Is he someone who should be hearing this...?"
"He’s the heir mentioned in the will."
"What?"
"What did you say?"
The two of them exclaimed and stared at the man.
He was as expressionless as Cheongcheon.
Tall, with a colder and more aloof demeanor than Cheongcheon.
"Nice to meet you."
The man, with a slight curl of his lips, made a fist salute and said, "I’m Heocheon. I’ve come with my father’s will."
Cheongcheon summarized the contents of the will.
It stated that Old Man Heo wished to pass all his wealth to his son, "Heocheon," upon his death.
"This is nonsense!"
Madam Son’s face turned red and purple as she shot up from her seat.
"I can’t accept this! A man I’ve never seen before claiming to be his son!"
As expected.
Madam Son had no intention of giving up the Red Flower Pavilion.
On the other hand, Bok Man-chun was cautiously observing the situation.
"We don’t even know if this man is real or fake! And the will could be forged..."
Cheongcheon cut her off firmly.
"I’ve personally verified the authenticity of the will. It’s genuine."
"But, but..."
"I’ve already told you, I’ve verified it."
"......"
The weighty authority of a government official crushed the commoners’ resistance.
"But, but..."
Madam Son seemed to want to say something, but Cheongcheon spoke first.
"The authenticity of the will has already been confirmed. I’ve also personally verified this man’s identity. If you continue to doubt, I’ll have to consider it as distrust toward the government."
"That’s not what I meant..."
Cheongcheon was a much better actor than I had expected.
Perhaps it was because he still harbored resentment toward Madam Son for driving his mother away.
Madam Son squirmed under Cheongcheon’s cold gaze.
'I should step in now.'
I politely asked Cheongcheon for some space.
"Patrol Officer Cheongcheon, could you give us a moment? I’d like to have a brief talk with these two."
"...... Very well."
Cheongcheon reluctantly nodded.
After he left the room, I spoke in a soft voice.
"My mother was a maid who once worked in my father’s household."
"......"
"......"
I adapted Cheongcheon’s story slightly.
The only difference was that I had grown up in another city, struggled through life, and had come to this city a few months ago, where I coincidentally met Old Man Heo.
"Such a hard life..."
Bok Man-chun clicked his tongue at my (Heocheon’s) pitiful story.
As a romantic in the martial world, he was a man of deep sensitivity.
"...... So, I have a proposal for you."
At the word "proposal," the expressions of the two changed.
Madam Son looked wary, while Bok Man-chun’s expression was a mix of fear and anticipation.
"I don’t know much about business. I’m not confident I can manage the businesses my father left behind."
Old Man Heo had been a big player in the loan-sharking business.
But he hadn’t just dealt in loans.
Brothels, inns, taverns, trading companies.
He even had a security escort service, though only in name.
It was too much to swallow all at once.
So, I had an idea.
"I need the help of experts."
"......"
I decided it was better to make them my allies rather than my enemies.
If you push too hard, even a mouse will bite a cat.
But if you coax them gently, they’ll be too busy thinking about their own futures to doubt my identity.
"I want to liquidate the loan-sharking business."
This part had been discussed with Cheongcheon beforehand.
Cheongcheon couldn’t tolerate businesses that sucked the blood of the common people, and I agreed.
My motto in this life was to avoid creating unnecessary grudges, and if I had to, to uproot them completely.
But the other businesses would remain.
'I could sell everything and use the money to buy elixirs, but...'
Giving up future profits for immediate gain is foolish.
I looked straight at the two of them and said, "Will you help me from now on? What you do won’t change much."
Or you can leave here.
I didn’t say the last part, but no one here was dense enough to miss the implication.
"Understood. Leave it to me!"
Bok Man-chun was the first to answer.
He had realized that my proposal wasn’t so bad for him.
"...... Alright."
It took a bit longer, but Madam Son’s answer wasn’t much different.