Habit (2)
“Ho-ho? Quite the man you are.”
“Of course!! Ga-bok the man won't stand for anything shameful!!”
That wasn't the kind of praise he meant.
Who else but someone who'd eaten tiger's liver raw could spout such nonsense to the face of the Paewang?
To Gu Cheon-woo, Ga-bok grew more intriguing by the second.
His bones and muscles aren't bad either.
Ga-bok dashed out of the room only to return in less than half a kak, changed into plain clothes, displaying remarkable speed.
His expression, as if nothing had happened, was the real masterpiece.
His acting was top-notch; anyone unaware would have bought it completely.
On top of that, prioritizing his own dignity over the master's orders despite claiming to be busy suggested he wasn't your average servant.
“We've wasted too much time. Hurry up, or we'll all catch hell—and it'll be your fault, young master.”
He even had the gall to shift the blame for the delay onto his own lord.
Was he always like this?
It was just a glimpse, but Gu Cheon-woo could gauge how he'd treated Ga-bok in the past.
No matter how close they were, the wall of status was thick.
A master had to set an example with respect, but as long as the line wasn't crossed, there was no need for punishment.
The Paewang was a seeker of Mireok Paedo, far removed from tyranny.
“You're lucky.”
“You're the lucky one, young master. Where else in the world can you find a servant as handsome and wise as me?”
“But that talent of yours won't easily overcome the wall of status.”
“...Are you about to pull rank on me with that now?”
“I'm just stating reality.”
When it came to shamelessness, even the Paewang had no equal—save perhaps his first regression.
He'd never felt shame after that early phase, wielding dominance without restraint once he became the Paewang.
Push it further, and I might just kill him.
Ga-bok hadn't crossed the line either—whether from street smarts or instinct, it was a skill for longevity.
And he wasn't wrong.
No matter how capable, breaching the status barrier was realistically tough.
The best shot was becoming a martial artist, but mastering advanced techniques wasn't as easy as in novels.
Reality wasn't some utopia handing secret arts to servants.
“Heh heh, when did I ever say that? I'm perfectly content with my lot.”
“Planning to stay a servant forever?”
“Once a servant, always a servant!”
“Got it.”
Even emperors could quit if they wanted.
Maybe contentment with the present was less miserable.
Chasing false grand ideals led to repeating the hundredth round.
Ga-bok's lifespan was around fifty anyway—five thousand years across a hundred regressions wasn't much.
“Why did Father summon me?”
“You really don't know?”
“Don't make me ask twice.”
Gu Cheon-woo probed for details.
Ga-bok couldn't hide his bewilderment.
A month ago, he'd thrown tantrums to the clan head and managers about going on a trade caravan, and now he feigned ignorance.
Ga-bok prided himself on his acting, but the young master was no slouch.
Figures he'd be scared.
Ga-bok judged based on the young master's usual behavior.
He was of age, time to shoulder family duties.
Yet the young master preferred play over work.
Nothing odd about that—kids that age rarely wanted responsibility.
With the second and third young masters around, he didn't have to.
Trade caravans went to veterans; they weren't easy or always safe.
Maybe volunteering was a gamble.
If he doesn't go, great for me.
Servants trailed masters like shadows on caravans.
“I'm fine, so just go”—that wouldn't fly.
On a long trip, he'd handle all the young master's needs alone.
At the estate, help abounded, and the young master was safe without him.
Ugh, nightmare!!
He wished the young master would learn household duties step by step, like now.
The clan head knew his tricks and wouldn't approve a caravan.
“Go apologize on your knees. He'll reassign you to an indoor post.”
“Advice?”
“Advice? Perish the thought. It's all for your own good, young master.”
“Not because you're annoyed?”
“Me? I'd follow you to hell itself.”
“I'll remember your loyalty.”
“You better—not like some dog forgetting its master.”
Grasping the gist, Gu Cheon-woo rose from the bed.
As Paewang, no one would dare order him around, but he wasn't so rigid as to ignore the present.
I'm pretty adaptable.
Not a bad start.
This fulfilled his filial duty.
For his delighted father, he'd show some piety.
Ga-bok's chatter didn't stop en route.
“Kids dream of the romance of travel, but reality's a dog. 'Leave home, suffer like one'—timeless truth.”
“Is that so.”
“The elders didn't spout nonsense after fancy meals.”
“You listen to them closely, huh.”
“Embarrassing to say it myself, but with parents, I'd be the world's top filial son.”
Ga-bok had been abandoned at Gu Cheon-woo's doorstep as a child.
Unable to be filial, he spoke freely.
Still, his optimism despite reality showed a sunny nature—or forced cheer.
“Impressive.”
Gu Cheon-woo nodded.
Ga-bok's inner thoughts meant nothing to him.
Bound by no petty emotions in pursuing Mireok Paedo, he neither knew nor cared about people's hearts.
Forty thousand years straight—only natural.
Orphan or not, Ga-bok had master luck.
Even now, he pulled antics deserving a beating.
If Gu Cheon-woo nitpicked, it wouldn't end well.
In this era, servant cheekiness led straight to a thrashing.
“Not that side.”
“Right.”
“Lost again?”
“Lead.”
“Yes, sir.”
After forty thousand years, even his home felt alien.
A neat, antique study.
Not overly adorned with rarities.
Porcelain and scrolls balanced around the desk in perfect harmony—pleasing to the eye, calming the mind.
The middle-aged man seated there flipped through a ledger, scrutinizing it carefully.
He fit the room's vibe yet felt oddly out of place.
Thud, thud!
Footsteps approached from outside.
The middle-aged man composed himself further, enhancing the solemn air.
Creak!
Gu Cheon-woo entered.
“You summoned me.”
“Wait a moment; I have business to finish.”
The study's occupant was Gu Cheon-woo's father, head of the Gu Clan estate and leader of the Jeokgeum Merchant Group.
Sounded like a fake from some temple, but Gu Clan estate meant just that—the Gu family's stronghold.
Jeokgeum was a family-like mid-tier powerhouse among Sacheon's Ten Great Merchant Groups.
No misconceptions, though; among nationwide giants, they barely scraped the bottom of that list.
Yet the clan head carried himself like the world's top merchant.
Blood couldn't lie, as Ga-bok said.
Half a si-jin passed.
Suffocating silence.
Unfamiliar, it bred impatience and anxiety.
Like a master's way of taming a novice.
Slurp!
Gu Clan head Gu Seo-jin savored green tea like dragon well while checking inventory, then furrowed his brow.
What did this kid eat wrong?
Midday sun high, no word from his son, so he'd sent the servant.
Late arrival nearly broke the mood; he'd barely recovered.
Eldest son, eighteen and still immature—he'd pushed to involve him in the business.
Then the brat volunteered for a trade caravan.
As heir, he needed caravan experience for major events, he'd claimed.
Obviously dodging work.
This is all your fault!!
Pampered as the eldest by his wife, he'd become a lazy idler at that age!
Blame the wife? Last resort.
As Great Gu Clan head, he couldn't play games with his son's tricks.
But why's he so meek now?
The kid who'd quake and run to Mother at a hint of anger now held grave poise.
Where'd he learn that nasty habit? Tsk tsk!
Gu Seo-jin ignored that beans from beanfields were expected.
The son's looks screamed his blood, no denying it.
He'd bet the son would surrender hands-up within half a kak.
The boy's grit was that shallow.
With wife away, he'd planned a swift end.
But no.
Sensed it?
Playful, but not dumb—smart enough to carve his escape then slack.
Decent enough, so he'd held his tongue.
Hmph! Trying to out-stare his father?!
Too green, kid.
Far from matching this survivor of Sacheon's cutthroat trade wars, now in the Ten Greats.
He boasted the clan's best business acumen.
Rebuilt ancestors' squandered wealth to this prosperity—his pride.
“Grown man still sleeping away, shirking duties! Got any sense you're Great Gu Clan's heir?”
“For Great Gu Clan? Thought we were distant Haedong barbarians, classified as such by Central Plains folk.”
“...How do you know th— Never mind! Nonsense! We're the Central Plains core, ancient noble house, you fool!”
“Not rebels ourselves—just fled Central Plains after royal purge splashed on us. Actually Seongdo Gu? No, Baek Clan—should've been Baek Clan estate.”
...?
How does he know?
Our identity wash?
Secret passed only to estate lords.
And not the full truth.
Who?
No way? That blabbermouth old fart!!
Wife must never know.
She thought him Central Plains born.
Proud of Haedong roots or not, views on outer barbarians lingered.
Bragging ancestral flaws? Merchant taboo.