Wise Parents Beget Wise Children

Lunchtime, and once again the principal's office.

Seated across from me was Mrs. Gwak, the ringleader of yesterday's incident. Along with a paper detailing how the compensation would be paid, she handed over a thick bundle of documents.

"Thank you so much for yesterday. I owe Ji-on a debt I could never fully repay."

"Ah, I see."

I answered airily and skimmed through the papers she'd presented.

Absurd. What on earth was all this?

And why on earth was it called the Chongmyeonghoe?

At the bottom of the document, a slogan was written in bold letters: "Wise parents beget wise children."

I understood the intent—when the water upstream runs clear, the water downstream runs clear too. A perfectly true saying, really.

...But then how exactly was I supposed to interpret the charter above it?

Mrs. Gwak—Gwak Myeong-ja—watched my bewildered expression, then clenched her fist with a face full of burning zeal.

"We've even commissioned the making of flags and vests! We'll work tirelessly to spread your profound wisdom, Ji-on!"

What profound wisdom...?

All I'd ever wanted was to talk to people like a normal human being.

"Please, grant us permission to begin our activities!"

And again—why, of all people, were you asking me for that permission?

It was a slightly absurd situation. But give it a moment's thought, and it actually seemed like a pretty good deal, didn't it?

This so-called Chongmyeonghoe was offering to sell potatoes to the Mom Cafe members on my behalf. That meant a regular distribution channel, established and running on its own.

And their primary targets were the ignorant parents whose competitive fires were already blazing.

This was guaranteed money. Besides, if this arrangement meant fewer fools in the world, there was no reason to refuse.

"Well, all right. I'll grant my permission. As for the price... 150,000 won a potato seems fair."

If I actually charged the hundred million won I'd demanded from this woman, I wouldn't be able to sell many. A reasonable compromise would serve bulk sales far better.

Best to keep the price roughly in line with the sweet potatoes, too.

"Thank you!! Ah, and the compensation from yesterday will be transferred directly to your business account, just as written in the documents I've handed over. All future revenue will be wired there as well!"

Excellent.

A steady stream of income, all taken care of on its own!

"I'll survey the volume of potatoes needed each week and text you the numbers."

"Ah, yes."

Somehow, before I knew it, we'd even exchanged contact information.

Right up until then, I'd treated the whole affair very lightly. Sure, it wasn't a bad offer, so I'd accepted—but I figured that kind of enthusiasm couldn't possibly last.

Then, one week later, that evening, a text arrived.

Demand was higher than I'd expected.

I was reading the message with some satisfaction when it happened.

"Oh my, what on earth is that about?"

Mom paused mid-bite of her after-dinner fruit and tilted her head. The news was playing on the TV in the living room.

The screen showed a familiar face. Mrs. Gwak—the grown woman who had wept in my field just days ago.

She wore a red sash printed with a potato across her forehead and held up an enormous flag.

"I realized far too late that private education was, in truth, useless for a child. What truly matters in a child's life was never college entrance exams or tutoring."

She wore a warm, heartwarming smile throughout the entire interview.

Having listened, Mom nodded slowly and murmured, "Now there's a woman who only speaks the truth."

"Ha, haha......."

"Seems everyone's finally coming to their senses. All this obsession with tutoring and exams—they've been far too hard on the little ones."

I gave an awkward nod. "....It'll only get better from here."

"Hoho, look at our Ji-on, already reading the currents of the world. You've grown up so fast."

...Fine. In for a penny, in for a pound—might as well start selling potatoes to parents in earnest.

Wasn't the whole point to build a world where kids could live doing what they actually wanted...?

I picked up my phone and sent a text. If there was anyone perfectly suited for going big on a venture like this, the person around me had to be that man. There was no one else.

A high-rise office building near Samsung Station in Seoul.

The office lights were still on, deep into the night. Inside, the executive's own office glowed just as brightly.

The man seated at its center dragged a weary hand down his haggard face and took a sip of the prototype sitting beside his desk—freshly pressed carrot juice.

His fatigued eyes felt considerably clearer.

"Whew—"

On his desk sat a nameplate reading Lee Myeong-jin, Managing Director, Operational Strategy Team 1, two monitors, a dense keyboard, and stacks upon stacks of paperwork.

His eyes had recovered, but the situation hadn't improved one bit. No matter how much he worked, the pile never shrank. Why was that?

The managing director was an elite analyst and strategist, and true to form, he set about analyzing the cause of his crushing workload.

"Ah......."

And then he understood.

He had two bosses. Chairman Choi Jin-hyuk and Honorary Chairman Choi Tae-seok. That's right—the superiors he served numbered, in total, two.

The atmosphere of the company, the Chairman's mood, everything was far better than in the days when the Honorary Chairman had been hospitalized. But he was only human, and seeing to the directives of two bosses—both of them owner-family, no less—was beyond any one man's capacity.

"I should request a redistribution of duties......."

Though, before that, clearing the work currently dumped on him naturally came first.

Lee Myeong-jin was calmly organizing his mental to-do list, on the verge of diving back into work, when—

Trrr--

His phone began ringing without mercy.

Any ordinary office worker would have gone home long ago at this hour of the night... but the person on the other end of that call knew nothing of such considerations.

Trrr--

The phone kept ringing. The managing director cleared his throat briefly and answered.

"Yes, this is Lee Myeong-jin speaking."

"Ah, Director Lee!"

"Honorary Chairman, what business could you have at this hour......"

"Haha. I was curious how the new carrot product development was coming along."

"Ah, yes. It's proceeding smoothly. We should be able to send you a test batch soon."

They were developing a juice with a higher carrot concentration than the one he'd just drunk, boosting its effects. Once they'd confirmed stable results, they planned to send it to the Honorary Chairman's home.

A satisfied laugh drifted through the receiver. After laughing for quite a while, the Honorary Chairman Choi Tae-seok seemed to suddenly remember something.

"Good, very good. And by the way—I have more good news for you."

"......Good news, sir?"

"Yes! Our Ji-on just sent me a text. Would you believe it—the boy's already developed a new crop!"

"A new... crop, you say......"

I can hear the sound of my quitting time being pushed further away, the director thought.

The carrot product plan wasn't even fully organized yet, and now a brand-new crop had appeared.

"Yes, this time it's a potato, apparently."

The managing director pressed a hand to his temple and answered. "......I'll send a draft of the trade contract within three days."

God knows he wanted to shove the work onto someone else, but this was unmistakably a source of performance metrics.

The young farmer, Seo Ji-on. Ever since that boy had appeared among the upper ranks, Taeram had come back to life. After years of stagnation, a spirit of seeking out, developing, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and selling something new had taken root.

That was, of course, the story of the company as a whole. For Strategy Team 1, it tasted like death.

Bang--

Lee Myeong-jin pushed open the office door and stepped out. His eyes fell on the desks of his Strategy Team 1 members.

Not a single one had gone home. The desks ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sat packed to bursting with pitiful zombies.

And yet their faces were filled with more passion than they'd ever shown before.

The managing director looked at them for a moment, then called out, "Everyone—I'm sorry. Looks like we're dying together again today."

The employees shook their sleep-heavy heads, then answered loudly. "We're fine, sir!!"

"Good. Let's push through it."

He was as fine a boss as he was a fine subordinate.

Tiriri~

On the walk home from school, my phone rang. A text had come in from the Chongmyeonghoe.

They'd collected the potatoes at a truly blistering pace, then handed them out and gathered the money just as fast, apparently.

The amount was larger than I'd expected. At this level of income, I thought I ought to at least share some of the sales commission with the Chongmyeonghoe members—so I asked Mrs. Gwak about it, only to be flatly refused. She insisted she could accept nothing from her benefactor. And so I simply agreed to take the full proceeds from the sales.

This week's earnings, made through the Chongmyeonghoe, were to be split among six people in total: the club kids, and even Lee Dae-kyung's mother.

They were the ones who had planted and raised the potatoes together with me. Sharing the harvest was only right.

"But why does Dae-kyung's mom get a share?"

"It's a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠long story. Just know there's a reason."

"Tell me properly!"

"Which would be me telling you not properly, wouldn't it."

"You stingy jerk."

Just another ordinary walk home. Choi Seo-dan stuck her lips out in a pout, then suddenly grabbed my backpack from behind as if something had been nagging at her.

"What?"

"I heard it from Grandpa. Are you really going to sell that potato to us too?"

"That's the plan."

"......Aren't you already too busy selling them to that weird organization of yours?"

"And thanks to that, we've all pocketed a nice allowance."

"Pfff—can't argue with that."

The money that had landed in those kids' bank accounts this week was nothing to sneeze at. ...I couldn't speak for Choi Seo-dan, but for the others it had to be at least fifty times what they'd see over the holidays.

Choi Seo-dan conceded the point for a moment, then shook her head as if that wasn't the issue and got back to business.

"No, what I'm asking is whether the supply can keep up. Sure, we go out every day and tend the potatoes, but they say more and more people keep wanting to buy."

"That's right. It looks like demand's only going to keep growing."

"Then it'll get impossible to manage, won't it?"

"So I'm thinking of scaling up all at once."

"......How?"

Choi Seo-dan tilted her head.

"How is how."

If I expand the field, that's scale, isn't it?

While I was chatting with Choi Seo-dan, we somehow found ourselves at Old Man Choi's house.

"Go on in quick."

"Hey! You have to tell me how before you go in!!"

Thud, thud.

"So you're saying you'll be buying more land, then?"

Old Man Choi was watching me with a contented smile.

"Yes, sir. I want to try doing this for real."

"Heheh, you're already tending farmland that's close to a thousand pyung as it is, aren't you?"

"That much is just the beginning."

If school weren't in the picture, I could easily cultivate a thousand pyung on my own. Ten thousand, even. ...If only it weren't for school. Really.

Should I just quit high school? I could always take the qualification exam instead.

Deep in thought, I was startled when Choi Seo-dan, wearing a thoroughly irritable expression, drove her hoe into the dirt.

Thud—

"Hey, you're going to bruise the carrots like that."

"What does it matter? It's my grandpa's field."

Well, when you put it that way, I had nothing to say.

"How much longer are you going to keep coming out here to farm with your grandfather? I'm here now too, so go tend ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠your own field."

"......Are you sulking?"

"Sulking? Don't make me laugh!"

Watching the two of us bicker, the old man chuckled. "Haha, Ji-on, watching you takes me back to my younger days."

"......?"

"I met my own wife back in middle school, you see."

"Eeek—! Grandpa! We're not like that!!"

Choi Seo-dan shot up in a fit of pique and bolted out through the backyard.

Old Man Choi gave a shrug. I answered him in kind.

"That's right, Grandpa. What would I possibly do with her?"

Seriously—she's a kid eighty years younger than me. Even entertaining the thought would be asking for trouble.

Pfft—

A laugh slipped out. That kind of thought, of all things.

It had been such a long, long time since that dearly familiar face had flickered through my mind.

As if remembering the past himself, the old man gazed off into the distance with a faraway look, as though cherishing the memory of someone dear.

"I miss her, my wife......."

A wife. His imja.

I had one, too. Someone I could never see again—neither in the old world, nor in this one.......

"Geesh, what am I doing, wasting time on thoughts like these."

I pushed my way back into the weeds and set my mind in order.

"Oh, right, Grandpa. Did you talk to the company about the potatoes?"

"Naturally! They said they'd have everything sent over by this Wednesday!"

Hee— a laugh bubbled up. Everything was falling smoothly into place.

That's right. There was no time to dwell on things already gone by.

There was a mountain of work waiting ahead of me!