Deciding the Path (1)
“So? You’re saying he saved the Geumhyang Merchant Group and stayed at the Hwangbo family estate?”
“Yes. They left Je-nam early in the morning, and according to our people, the Hwangbo family head came out personally to see them off.”
“Hm.”
With Saihai Money House’s influence spread across all of Shandong Province, their eyes and ears were everywhere. Especially in Je-nam, Shandong’s premier city. And their dealings with the Hwangbo family went back years.
“But those two sons by his side—they apparently looked like old friends.”
He was referring to Jin Yeo-rip and the Hwangbo family’s young master, Hwangbo Wonpyeong.
People who had just met for the first time this trip?
“Old friends?”
“Yes. Especially the Hwangbo young master—he seemed quite reluctant to part with the young master.”
Yang Sojin’s brow furrowed deeply at Gong Yasin’s words.
She had already heard about the Wall Mountain Band affair. She had expected the family head to rescue the Geumhyang Merchant Group, of course, but she hadn’t anticipated Jin Yeo-rip stepping in and resolving things in a completely different way.
A contract with bandits. Jin Yeo-rip’s clever scheme had already set Cheongeumbang abuzz with a method no one had tried before.
It was dangerous. And unease washed over her.
His steps toward claiming his place were accelerating—who knew how far they would go?
And now, forming a friendship with the Hwangbo family’s young master. That was the most worrisome part.
If Jin Yeo-rip played a decisive role in allying with the Hwangbo family, the merchant group leaders’ reactions were obvious.
Of course, not right away. Saihai Money House’s reach extended to the Hwangbo family too.
But they were murim folk. Their stance could shift at any moment, and who knew how the next generation might change?
By befriending the Hwangbo young master, Jin Yeo-rip had seized a potential opportunity.
The most important test still lay ahead, but somehow, she felt he would pull it all off and claim the seat of Cheongeumbang’s master.
He can’t.
Her father, the lord of Saihai Money House, was a cold man. He had even planned to use his own daughter as a political pawn to swallow Cheongeumbang whole.
If she ended up sidelined because of Jin Yeo-rip, he would discard her without hesitation—along with her two sons.
Grind.
Her teeth ground together involuntarily.
“A rolling stone.”
That was what Jin Yeo-rip was. After fourteen years, he had rolled in to pry loose the moss-covered stone.
“Madam, what should we do? Did the Golden-Eyed Lord say nothing when you met him before?”
At Gong Yasin’s question, Yang Sojin squeezed her eyes shut in irritation.
Oh, he had spoken….
—I’m an outsider, so for me to help you, the situation must arise. Can you create that situation?
Coldly, ruthlessly….
How could she not understand? She knew his personality, had watched him for so long—her own father.
The “situation” he meant was a substitute assassin. Death leading to death.
To strike down Jin Yeo-rip, someone had to die. And that someone had to be closely tied to her father.
Blood…. Herself, or one of her two sons.
Yang Sojin had agonized long and returned without an answer.
“Madam?”
At Gong Yasin’s call, she scratched the armrest of her chair irritably.
Scraaatch.
The sound of her nails grated unpleasantly.
What should she do?
Leave things as they were, and it was clear she’d be ousted. Jin Ha-seong would gain power through his son’s successive successes and begin the full succession process.
Yes, what difference was there between being pushed to the back room and death?
She couldn’t give up the power she had once grasped. Even if it meant forcing things….
Her sons, at least, had to live as masters of Cheongeumbang.
The family head’s group would return from Je-nam in about ten days. A triumphant return in fine clothes—they wouldn’t hurry.
She had plenty of time to plot.
“Grand Elder.”
“Yes, Madam.”
“You may go now.”
“Pardon?”
“Today, I want to spend time chatting with Yun-i and Deok-i.”
“Madam! Chat? This is no time for that. With the elders’ faction in such turmoil, now is not the moment to enjoy casual time with your sons….”
“Casual?”
Yang Sojin’s eyes flashed at Gong Yasin’s words, suddenly icing over like frost.
“Did you say casual just now?”
“M-Madam.”
“They are Cheongeumbang’s future! And the masters you will serve henceforth! And you call that casual?”
“I’m sorry. I misspoke.”
“Leave!”
“Yes.”
Gong Yasin bowed his head deeply and exited the inner chamber.
Yang Sojin glared fiercely at the closed door after him, a chill curling her lips.
“Just one day. Just one day….”
Her murmur revealed the heavy weight on her heart. Perhaps that day would be one she could never have again.
The road back to Cheongeumbang was peaceful. None of the troubles Im Pilsaeng had worried about occurred, so Jin Yeo-rip had to endure some boredom.
No—gaining time to think was actually a boon.
A small clue had snowballed into a full plan.
Insurance business. This had to happen.
He already had a customer locked in. Someone who’d die of old age before croaking in some inn, faithfully bringing money every month. Might even refer offspring if handled right.
“Heh heh heh.”
Jin Yeo-rip chuckled unwittingly, drawing a strange look from Jin Ha-seong, who rode in the same carriage.
“What’re you thinking to laugh so sleazily?”
“Huh?”
“Heh heh heh? Heh heh heh. Shameless brat.”
“What’s wrong with heh heh heh?”
“Don’t you know your place?”
“My place?”
Jin Yeo-rip tilted his head at his father’s words.
“Sigh, how can you be so nonchalant?”
“...?”
“Cheongeumbang will be buzzing over the Wall Mountain Band and Hwangbo family business.”
“Huh?”
“You went out on your first escort and inked a massive profit contract with bandits, didn’t you?”
“I heard about it, but the rumors spread already?”
“Of course. Merchant gossip travels faster than the Beggars’ Clan. They know information is money.”
“Hm….”
Jin Yeo-rip nodded.
“The branch managers outside already know. Same with the Hwangbo matter.”
“Why the Hwangbo family?”
“Didn’t you embrace their young master like sworn brothers on the way out?”
“Well, the guy’s just that affectionate.”
“Maybe personally, but outsiders will see it differently.”
Jin Ha-seong continued gravely.
“Especially merchants—they’ll view it as intimacy between future leaders.”
“That much?”
“Obviously. Don’t you know the old tale of Ye Ga?”
“Ye Ga—you mean Ye Bulwi?”
“Quick on the uptake, good.”
“... .”
“Ki-hwa-ga-geu—rare goods are worth acquiring.”
Rare items hold value worth buying. Predicting future massive profits and investing early.
Value investing, as it were?
“The world has countless valuables, but investing in a person whose future is promising yields ten times a farmer’s profit, or a treasure trader’s.”
“Makes sense, since I shaped the market.”
“That’s connections.”
“... .”
“You’ve befriended the Hwangbo young master, certain to lead Shandong’s top martial family. As a merchant, what better network?”
“Hm.”
“External branches will see the potential opportunity.”
“I see.”
Nodding along, Jin Yeo-rip suddenly looked at his father with a thought.
“Wait—weren’t you friends with the Hwangbo family head?”
“... .”
“If we’re splitting hairs, more than me, who just met him….”
“Tch!”
As Jin Yeo-rip pressed, Jin Ha-seong barked in reprimand.
“Nitpicking your father’s words. It’s all well-wishing! In my day, I just said ‘yes, yes’ respectfully to your grandfather.”
“... .”
Menopause wasn’t enough—he was a full boomer….
“Anyway, cherish that friendship with the young master.”
“I will. Besides….”
Jin Yeo-rip trailed off with a grin, dropping the matter.
Monopoly business anyway—no competitors. But couldn’t treat a precious customer lightly. They’d be his foundation going forward.
Birthdays, anniversaries, holidays—greetings every time. Insurance was people paying money, after all.
“Oh, speaking of which.”
“Hm?”
“How about you get one too, Father?”
“What? Get what?”
“Insurance.”
“Insurance?”
“Yeah, what I mentioned leaving Wall Mountain Band.”
“Oh, that?”
“Yes. I’ve sketched some ideas….”
“Why would I?”
Jin Yeo-rip’s eyes widened at the unexpected rebuff.
“Huh?”
“I heard your whole explanation back then. Good business, sure. But what do I insure?”
“Insure what?”
“Insurance compensates for accidents, right? You got money for that?”
“Huh?”
“No capital, yet promising payouts? That’s a scam.”
“No, scam? Why say it so harshly?”
“Scamming your father’s harsher.”
“How do you even see me!”
Start with acquaintances, he figured—after Hwangbo Wonpyeong, slip it to Father.
But so merciless. True merchant. Blood meant nothing before money.
Hwangbo Wonpyeong, prizing loyalty over cash for now, was best.
Needed seed money after all.
“Oh, those twenty taels?”
“Hahaha!”
“Father?”
“Uhahaha!”
Mentioning the money saved from Wall Mountain Band talks set Jin Ha-seong laughing again.
Damn it. Performance bonus after work—fair, right!
But couldn’t relinquish his sole seed capital.
“Father, I’ll do well. Be filial. So pity your penniless son and give twenty—no, ten taels.”
“Kuhahaha!”
Father laughed heartily. Only about money.
Just watch—I’ll claim it someday! I’m persistent!
Amid their cheerful haggling(?), Jin Yeo-rip’s carriage entered Sishui, Cheongeumbang territory.
It passed the north gate, speeding toward Taewon.
As if pre-notified, elders crowded the gates, waiting.
“Congratulations on your return, Family Head!”
They shouted in unison toward the descending Jin father and son.
The resounding voice swelled his chest with pride.
But a familiar face was missing. Odd.
Father said rumors blanketed Cheongeumbang—he should be thrilled most by his achievements.
Why absent? Branch heads might be busy, but no So Hye or Hwang Ja-su in the welcome line was deeply suspicious.