A New Venture
People who embark on a new business inevitably run into cold, hard reality.
Specifically, they run into what are commonly known as the three essentials of management: labor, capital, and materials. Yet to Dokgo Sanwol, those supposed pillars were hardly problems at all. Labor could always be hired, and comic books—his principal commodity—could be printed indefinitely. As for money? He had accumulated enough silver to squander every day of his life without ever catching a glimpse of the bottom of his coffers. No, the greatest hurdle Sanwol faced was something else entirely: real estate.
A Comic Tea House was, by nature, an amalgamation of a traditional tea pavilion and a comic book parlor. A space where patrons could leisurely savor fine tea and refreshments while effortlessly immersing themselves in illustrated tales—that was the very essence of what he envisioned.
“Young Master, your lunch is—”
“Sorry, I’m eating out today. Divide whatever was prepared among yourselves.”
“Understood, sir.”
It could not adopt the conventional layout of an inn or a tavern, nor did it resemble any existing bookshop. Because he needed to establish a business with an entirely unprecedented architecture, he had to scout the ideal building and location himself.
And so, Sanwol took to the streets.
From broad daylight onward, he roamed every corner of Wuhan, searching for a structure that offered seamless accessibility while boasting enough room to house a Comic Tea House.
His first stop was Wuhan's central commercial district. Teeming with shops and pavilions of every conceivable trade, it was by far the most heavily trafficked thoroughfare in the entire city. Yet precisely because of that prime location, property values and land prices were astronomical. At these rates, he figured it would be vastly more advantageous to secure a much larger venue elsewhere.
Next, he checked the neighborhood surrounding Kang Seokho’s bookshop. While not quite as congested as downtown, that was purely a relative comparison. Lately, with the release of Volume 2 of Nangahyeopjeon, the area was occasionally packed tighter than the main boulevards. Sanwol weighed the option carefully, but ultimately dismissed it. The district had some of the most tangled, labyrinthine alleys in Wuhan, making overall accessibility quite poor. In a neighborhood where buildings were thrown together haphazardly, a massive influx of visitors would instantly cause paralyzing gridlock.
Thus, Sanwol wandered aimlessly across Wuhan, muttering to himself as he walked.
Is there anywhere good? Hmm, not here... Let's check another quarter.
Eventually, his footsteps led him to a familiar crossroads. It was an oddly desolate place, distinctly quieter and more tranquil than the rest of Wuhan.
Wait, this place...
Scanning his surroundings, Sanwol couldn't help but let a faint smile touch his lips. After all, this corner of the city held quite a few memories for him.
A dirt road strewn with gravel and crushed stone stretched ahead, lined with shabby, inexpensive structures completely devoid of luxury. Pedestrians were few and far between, and the few who passed wore the exhausted, weary expressions of folks grinding through hard labor.
This was Sanwol’s very first shelter. Using the meager silver he had scraped together from his early days at the escort agency, this single-room shanty was the place he had finally secured only after ascending to the Peak Realm. Come to think of it, he didn't believe he had ever bothered to sell the place when he moved out.
With a slight bounce in his step, Sanwol walked down the familiar path.
Hasn't changed a bit.
Washed over by a nostalgic sentiment akin to returning to one's hometown, Sanwol pushed the weathered door open. A shrill screech tore from the hinges, stabbing right into his ears. Having gathered thick rust while sitting vacant, the sound was practically a dying wail.
Stepping inside, the faint scent of ink, never fully dissipated, brushed against the tip of his nose. The worn furniture, the frayed, stained bedding, the stacks of paper piled here and there, and the dried ink splatters scattered about felt warmly familiar.
Sanwol paused and looked back over his shoulder. Beyond the open door, the street stretched out before him. It was quiet and desolate, but precisely for that reason, it felt peaceful and refreshingly unburdened.
Right, let's do it here.
Since this was where he had first made his mark, starting over here once more wouldn't be a bad idea at all.
“Elder Noh, you know Sogachon over on the east side of Wuhan, right?”
“Sogachon... Ah, you speak of that quarter, Young Master.”
Sogachon wasn’t an official district name, but rather a colloquial moniker used by the locals. Because tiny shanties were clustered together like an overgrown hamlet, people had simply and intuitively dubbed it 'Small Family Village.'
“I’m planning to launch a new venture called a Comic Tea House, and I think we should erect a building over there.”
“Though it is not a district frequented by many pedestrians, if we promote it under the banner of your Nangahyeopjeon, crowds will inevitably swarm the place. Given the cheap land and comparatively broad avenues, Sogachon is indeed an exceptional choice.”
The elderly gentleman whom Sanwol addressed as Elder Noh was one of the retainers hired at his estate. Yet owing to his vast life experience, he possessed great sagacity and was thoroughly versed in numerous affairs, leading Sanwol to treat him essentially as his personal executive secretary. The only reason Sanwol used polite speech was simply that tossing around casual talk at an old grandfather pricked his conscience. Had they met as enemies on a battlefield, that would be one thing, but looking down on a grandfatherly figure who helped manage his household felt deeply uncomfortable.
Moreover, with Confucian values deeply entrenched across the Central Plains, Sanwol—who, while perhaps not a full-fledged Confucian dragon, at least harbored the spirit of a Confucian serpent within him—preferred to grant elders their due respect.
“If you entrust the matter to this old servant, I shall scout the finest parcel in the area,” Noh Sopyeong offered warmly. “Might you have a particular size or architectural design in mind?”
“The size should be roughly this, and as for the layout...”
With that, Sanwol sketched out architectural blueprints by hand, explaining the structure’s intended purpose and specifications. The old man listened attentively, his eyes never straying from the schematics as he pondered them with utmost care.
When the explanation finally concluded, the old manager swept his gaze over the drafted outline, a gentle smile spreading across his weathered face.
“Splendid. This Noh Sopyeong shall ensure we secure a plot that fully satisfies you, Young Master.”
“I’ll leave it in your capable hands, then. I’ll assign a few extra hands to assist you, so please don't overexert yourself at your age.”
Sanwol saw Noh Sopyeong off with a mildly worried gaze. Naturally, whenever an elder takes on physical labor, the younger generation cannot help but feel uneasy. Yet Noh Sopyeong, thoroughly warmed by Sanwol's concern, merely gave a hearty chuckle as he stepped out of the estate.
“Haha, I am not yet so decrepit that walking a few leagues could trouble these old bones.”
Several days passed after Sanwol laid out his plans for the Comic Tea House.
Volume 2 of Nangahyeopjeon had barely hit the stalls, yet readers across the city were already clamoring for the whereabouts of Volume 3. And now, a brand-new rumor had begun circulating among the populace.
“Hey, have you heard the rumor?”
“What rumor?”
“The rumor that Great Grandmaster Painter Dokgo is arranging things so people can read Nangahyeopjeon much more easily!”
Naturally, this rumor was one Sanwol had deliberately planted. After all, when it came to business marketing, as long as it didn’t cross into blatant fraud, a little exaggeration never hurt anyone. With dissatisfaction bubbling everywhere over the brutal imbalance between supply and demand, this rumor scratched precisely where the public itched.
“What? Is that true? But how could such a thing be possible?”
“Apparently, Great Grandmaster Painter Dokgo has dispatched retainers to buy up land and property in Sogachon.”
“Could he be planning something out there?”
“How should I know? If Grandmaster Dokgo is making a move, all we can do is wait and see!”
Having been promoted in public reverence from a mere painter to 'Great Grandmaster Painter', Sanwol was practically receiving veneration bordering on religious worship.
Dammit, there are countless people who want to read it, so why are there so few copies?!
What? Great Grandmaster Painter Dokgo is devising a special solution just for us?!
Of course! How could someone of his peerless vision fail to foresee such a dire shortage?!
Furthermore, the rumor didn’t merely spread through cautious whispers. Because people were openly shouting and gossiping about it on every street corner, anyone who took so much as a single step outside their front door ended up hearing it. Inevitably, the gossip that erupted among commoners reached countless prominent ears.
“Investigate this rumor immediately!”
“Y-Yes, sir!”
Martial artists from the Murim Alliance and prominent clans dispatched scouts to look into the rumors, while disciples of prestigious Taoist sects like the Nine Sects and One Gang poured into the streets alongside them. Martial artists staying in Wuhan after hearing whispers of Nangahyeopjeon, commoners wrapping up their day's toil, and even rising young talents of the Murim Alliance—a multitude of curious souls pursued the scent of gossip until every last one of them arrived at Sogachon, which was bustling with uncharacteristic clamor.
Sogachon was easily one of the quietest districts in all of Wuhan. Situated on the distant outskirts where land was cheap and amenities nonexistent, it was primarily home to folks of modest means or those grinding out a difficult livelihood. Yet this very Sogachon was now awash in shouting, bustling workers, and unseasonal pandemonium.
Piqued by curiosity, an onlooker stepped forward, snagging a laborer who was hurrying by with materials.
“Pardon me, friend, but what in the world is happening here in Sogachon?”
“A new building is going up right here in Sogachon. Word is they're opening a Comic Tea House or something of the sort, but I'm just a hired hand, so I don't know the full details.”
Only then did the crowd grasp the full truth behind the rumors. They finally realized why Sanwol had bought up the properties in Sogachon and how he intended to quell the raging public frustration.
Naturally, the crowd erupted in thunderous cheers, plunging headfirst back into a frenzy of sheer adoration.
By now, the Murim Alliance had long since been cast from their minds.