The Merchant Journey (1)
Jeokgeum Merchant Group's mainstay products were paper and lacquerware. They had their own workshops for production and had refined the manufacturing processes to create unique patterns and superior quality. However, expansion within Sacheon Province had recently hit its limits. Competition from similar merchant groups couldn't be ignored. To secure the future, they needed to broaden their distribution channels.
To that end, three years ago, they had established a branch in Chang'an, Shaanxi Province. If sales continued smoothly and they expanded into cloth shops, it would be a chance to shed the label of being the lowest rung among Sacheon's Ten Great Merchant Groups. This merchant journey included silk and fabrics for the cloth shop. As it involved introducing new goods, the merchant group was busier than usual. They planned to expand their lineup further to include fragrances alongside silk and fabrics.
The inner manager had verified the quantities and quality of the goods, and the deputy manager was set to lead the journey.
"Manager, the young master still hasn't shown up today."
"Leave him be."
"Well, it's probably better if he's not around."
"Not getting in the way is blessing enough."
"His intentions aren't malicious, though."
"That's why we're leaving him alone."
Since it was the family head's decision, it wasn't right for them to meddle. Besides, with tasks already assigned, there was no room for the young master to insert himself. Normally, he'd shadow his seniors to observe and learn, but no one was unaware of his lazy tendencies. If he barged in without knowing anything, he'd only disrupt operations. Better for him to stay quietly out of sight like this—it was practically helping.
Of course, no one viewed the young master's sloth positively. People naturally wanted to lie down after sitting and sleep after lying down. So why bother working? To put food on the table, at least. If you lacked talent, you had to make up for it with diligence. At least the young master was only lazy—he didn't cause trouble. He didn't haunt taverns and brothels like a wastrel, and while he leveraged his status, he knew his limits.
They might envy him, but they didn't hate him.
"You play a big role in that."
"As long as I avoid earning his resentment, that's a win."
"We can't let him live like that forever."
"True, but... you know how it is."
"Still, we have to try until we've done all we can."
The managers were well aware of the family head's intentions. This journey was meant to straighten out the young master's rotten mindset. The route to Chang'an was established from multiple prior trips, but this time they planned to include camping and overnight stays.
"What if it doesn't work?"
"The family head will have a hard time of it."
The inner manager hadn't thought that far. If it failed, so be it—they had a diligent second son. The third was hot-tempered with a wild streak, but if even one of the three succeeded, it was a win for the parents. Merchants knew when to choose and focus. It was hard enough managing one's own children; seeing someone else's all thrive would just sting.
'Damn it, why does my kid act just like the young master!'
The inner manager was human too, and his own son gave him headaches. If he had a second and third like the family head, he might give up. Sensing the mood souring, the deputy manager decided to excuse himself.
"I'll head out now."
"Lucky you."
"Not at all."
"We're outside here."
This crazy manager was about to pull that old-school scolding routine from his youth again!! Arguing would lead nowhere. The deputy manager clamped his mouth shut and scanned the surroundings with a hawk's eye. Fortunately, a row manager blundered right on cue—perfect timing.
This guy's a godsend.
"Do you even know what you're dropping?!"
"What do you mean? It's just fragrance..."
"Fragrance can be dropped! What if the scent degrades and causes a major incident? You'd take responsibility?"
"No, sir."
"We're outside."
The deputy manager dispensed some tough love. Once the grumbling inner manager turned his attention elsewhere, he flashed a benevolent smile.
"Good work."
"...Uh, yes."
"What's with the formality between us?"
"...Got it."
To the row manager, he was a two-faced man. The merchant group's members averted their eyes, fearing they'd catch his gaze.
The young master holed up in his room and didn't emerge. As the family head's eldest son, he was positioned to inherit the merchant group. He should have been the center of attention, but the merchants paid him no mind. Proof of that: no one even called for him. Normally, curiosity alone would draw someone out, but the young master took it in stride. He dismissed the merchant journey preparations as the merchants' job.
Ga-bok was bursting with frustration at the young master's negligence. He'd anticipated it, but this level of obliviousness exceeded expectations. Ga-bok's own experience with merchant journeys was limited to hearsay. And yet, he was meticulously preparing to ensure no blemish on the young master's trip!
'Is this my merchant journey?'
Anyone would think he was the eldest son of the Gu family. If that were the case, they'd actually hand it over. Unfortunately, blood was thicker—and stickier—than water. No matter how well he did, he was still just a servant's son. He'd live like one, thank you very much. Servants memorizing texts? Absurd! And yet here the young master was, spouting nonsense, dimming the Gu family's future.
"Your meals are as scrawny as your lower body."
"I've been skimping on sleep to prep for the journey, and you're saying that to the guy handling your meals? And I've never skimped!"
"I could remind you."
"...What the hell did you do to me?"
Admitting mistakes created weaknesses, as the saying went. Ga-bok had erased that day's memory from his life. But if it wasn't a mistake—if it was deliberate—then it changed everything. Had this damn young master taken some drug? No, he hadn't eaten anything that day.
'No way the world's laziest young master is a poison arts master.'
Poison arts required diligence. And using something formless and odorless like Nighttime Bladder Poison? Cost-ineffective. No such poison existed, and why waste that effort just to prank a servant? But staring at that impassive, serious face... it seemed plausible.
"From now on, increase the meat portions."
"It's not like you have a beggar in your gut. Do you even know how many servings you just ate?"
"I'm in my growth spurt, so it's fine."
"Yes, eat up and grow big!!"
Laziness aside, his appetite had suddenly surged. Hopefully it all went to height, not belly fat, since he was cooped up indoors. Wait—looking up at the young master after he stood post-meal? The difference wasn't huge, but recalling five days ago changed everything. A one-and-a-half-inch growth in five days? Even for a growth spurt, that was excessive. Short of a cultivation breakthrough like Exchanging Bones and Washing Marrow.
Memories flashed: asking what he did all day in his room, just breathing. He'd said martial arts training, probably.
"No way... it was real?"
"Your faith in your master is lacking."
"Ah, so you're an absolute expert now?"
"Not yet."
"Figured as much."
Keep humoring him moderately, and he'd stop. Exchanging Bones and Washing Marrow for anyone? Even among martial prodigies, it was rarer than one in a thousand. Let alone for someone who only knew basic breathing and sword arts. As a servant, even downplaying him was generous. The height gain? Probably from straightening his slouch or fat buildup on scalp and soles. Sitting in a room gorging would do that. And martial arts only sitting? No sweat from nighttime training, clothes pristine despite days worn—cleaner than his own. If he didn't catch a cold soon...
Veins? Unnoticed before, but the young master's arms now sported those veins women swooned over. Not bulging, but pulsing where they'd begged for life beneath flesh.
'Growth spurt or not, this doesn't make sense.'
Ga-bok had practically raised him—he wasn't a bamboo shoot.
Disconcerting. Rapid growth could be toxic. No explanation fit for sudden height and improved physique.
"You sure you're not sick?"
"No."
"Then what! How'd you do it?"
"Cultivate martial arts."
Disbelief burned in Ga-bok's eyes. Martial arts that only grew height? Nonsense! He'd secretly eaten some elixir. Eating alone? Betrayal. Good stuff starts with the servant, right? He suffered, yet the master hogged the benefits—unfair world.
Cheon-woo didn't lie. As the foundation of Paewang Fist solidified, his body harmonized with inner energy, growing accordingly. Changes weren't overt. Without close companionship, they'd go unnoticed. This round differed from before. Previously, he'd prioritized rapid inner energy growth for speed. The body could reach desired levels via energy stimulation. Now, he advanced step-by-step, reviewing each stage. Fast to others, tortoise-slow to him.
"If you don't wanna tell me, just say so. I'm not curious anyway."
"A shame. It could fix your scrawny lower body."
"My lord, my mouth ran away with me!"
"Once started, no turning back. Decide carefully."
"I've decided!"
Ga-bok knelt, ready for full prostration. If refused, two bows max. As a test, Cheon-woo accepted.
"Late to start martial arts, but eight hours daily, and your lower body will outstrip anyone's."
"I'll take my leave."
Ga-bok bolted without looking back. Eight hours training? When to date or marry? Celibacy forever, no need for strong legs!
Door slammed. Sob, again! Pat pat pat!
Paewang's tutelage—priceless, rejected. No refusals tolerated. Cheon-woo bestowed the impudent servant lifelong bladder incontinence.
'Flea-hop all you want.'
With Four Directions Return to Truth complete, Cheon-woo focused on circulating Paewang Fist. The journey could align with the schedule. Self-cultivation came first now. But the world rarely followed plans.
*Creak!*
The family head visited personally. Cheon-woo's nonchalance set Gu Seo-jin's eyes ablaze.
The journey loomed. He'd told him to prepare, yet he lounged in his room all day. Worried about health, he came—only to find the wretch spacing out on the bed.
"Hah! My son's life is one big stretch."
"Circulating energy."
"Oh, my son's an absolute expert now."
Was Ga-bok his blood? The exchange felt scripted. Absolute experts ignored sitting, standing, moving cultivation. Fine. But his son hadn't even trained, let alone learned arts. Even supreme techniques needed practice to surpass third-rate warriors.
"Soon."
"If you could just talk without irking me, stand up and carry some luggage!"
"Understood."
"You answer well. But from today, my eyes will be glued to you—no slacking."
Cheon-woo complied meekly. Sigh! Kicking his son out, Gu Seo-jin exhaled. Regret already crept in—was this right? During negotiations, he'd hoped for change. The preparedness pricking his weaknesses was commendable, if infuriating. Merchants needed composure in any crisis.
'This won't cut it.'
Mere hardship wouldn't fix that fundamentally rotten mind. He needed rock-bottom—from head to toe reborn. Only then would he grasp his privileged life.
'No begging then.'
Urgency: fix him now or never. Good that his wife was away with the third at her parents'.
Gu family estate's main gate bustled with people and wagons. First day of the journey. Deputy manager Jong Yeo-myeong led, with two row managers overseeing forty merchants. Ten Jeokgeum escorts provided protection. For a mid-tier group, fifty members was substantial.
Despite his status, Cheon-woo carried luggage. Family head's order: treat him as a lowly merchant during the trip. They obeyed silently, but surrounding merchants treaded ultra-carefully. Considering the young master's sudden demotion to porter, it was prudent. The head commanded lowly treatment, but actually doing so was tough. He might outlast them, and a twisted mood could splash fire undeservedly.