Future Over the Past (2)
“Greetings to the young master!”
Their voices boomed like thunder. The gate guards, sharp with iron discipline, bowed deeply in unison.
A swell of pride puffed up his chest as he strode boldly through the wide-open gates—and the welcoming crowd was massive. Is this what it feels like to be a celebrity?
“Greetings to the young master!”
Cheongeumbang's people packed both sides of the vast avenue, their unified shout echoing thunderously. It was enough to rattle his ears.
Yeah, that's right—I'm the eldest son of this house!
“The ones up front are the branch family heads,” So Hye whispered softly from just behind, murmuring the details he needed to know.
But... all these people? He'd guessed as much when he heard Sishui began at the edge of Cheongeumbang territory, but still—so many branch family heads? Four, five, six... a ton. He tried counting roughly with his eyes but gave up.
It only made his chest swell fuller.
Branch families: the lines of second sons, third sons, fourth sons who couldn't inherit, along with elder and younger daughters who'd married out and built their own houses. In his old world, you wouldn't know cousins past a certain point, but here? All one big family.
So Hye said they each ran different businesses under Cheongeumbang—like subsidiaries, family companies under the massive Cheongeumbang conglomerate.
Exchanging nods and eye-greetings with the branch heads, Jin Yeo-rip paused to take in the full view of Taewon.
'Enormous' was made for moments like this.
“Wow...”
An admiring sigh slipped out on its own.
Just one wall divided outer from inner, but the difference was night and day. At the end of the straight grand avenue lined with people on both sides: a whale-like roof gleaming dazzlingly in the sunlight—gold-leafed, no doubt—propped up by colossal pillars like sturdy legs. The three-story pavilion it crowned looked truly majestic.
That had to be Cheongeumbang's Da Geumgak. A pavilion decked in gold. Outsiders marveled at the sight, saying its splendor rivaled the imperial palace.
Hell, scrap off a little and sell it—that'd fetch a fortune.
Extravagance like this... he loved it. You needed money to burn it, and he was the young master of just that kind of place.
Da Geumgak wasn't the only wonder, though. Towering buildings ringed the golden hall, rising like a mountain ridge in a contest of heights.
“Whoa, the skyline's on a whole other level from outside,” Jin Yeo-rip muttered, too awed to catch himself.
So Hye tilted her head. “Pardon?”
“Huh? What?”
“You said something I'd never heard.”
“Didn't say a word.”
“Pardon? It was definitely ‘S...’ something?”
“Said the ~skyline height's different from outside.”
He played dumb, and she furrowed her delicate brow but let it drop.
Still, he needed to watch his mouth. As much as possible.
“Those are the family elders. The one at the very front is...”
Listening to So Hye's explanations as he walked the avenue, Jin Yeo-rip bowed his head and offered eye-greetings.
But... why did their eyes look like that? Totally different vibe from the branch heads. Unwelcoming, almost hostile?
He got it. Branch families were practically kin, but elders? Awkward after fourteen years apart.
If branch heads ran subsidiaries, these were Cheongeumbang's core executives. Pride and prestige meant they wouldn't show gladness, even if they felt it.
“Welcome, young master.”
Passing the elders and finishing greetings with the old man called Grand Elder Gong Yasin, a beautiful middle-aged woman at the end stepped forward.
Who... was she? Jin Yeo-rip blinked, and So Hye whispered—her tone icy.
“That's the current lady of the house.”
“Lady?”
He mulled it a second before it clicked. Cheongeumbang's current wife? Then the two boys standing beside her...
My half-brothers? The younger looked at least ten.
Ten years ago—back when he was at Shaolin. When his mother had been hounded into hardship.
Second wife, in other words.
A dry chuckle escaped him. Busy times, huh.
But focus on the future. Future only. It happened. Reasons aplenty. Understand it. He was the filial son, after all?
From a strictly monogamous modern world, Jin Yeo-rip grimaced without thinking—but caught himself, flashed a smile, and bowed politely.
“Yeo-rip greets you, Madam.”
Couldn't bring himself to say “mother.” Even with zero memories of his own.
Did she catch that grimace? Her face didn't look pleased.
“Come inside. The Pavilion Master awaits.”
“Yes, Madam. We'll have a deep talk later.”
“As you wish.”
After the brief exchange, Jin Yeo-rip headed for Da Geumgak. No one followed—just watching his back.
Respecting the private reunion between the eldest son, absent fourteen years, and the father who'd longed for him.
As he drew near, the guards flung the doors wide.
The vast hall's interior came into view, and at its far end—the man seated there.
His heart started pounding. No clue why. Maybe because he'd lost his parents young; the very idea of seeing a father felt alien.
“Hoo.”
Deep breath to loosen the tension, faint smile on his lips, Jin Yeo-rip stepped inside.
The doors shut. Silence and shadow swallowed everything. After a moment's adjustment, the light sharpened it all into focus.
Don't cower. Better to show himself grown strong than lacking.
Thud, thud. He made his footsteps echo, striding with purpose.
Father's figure grew clear. Atop five steps, on a throne carved with coiling golden dragons—he looked utterly stern.
Guards and maids flanked him, but Jin Yeo-rip saw only him.
Cheongeumbangju Jin Ha-seong. The man the Central Plains called Paegum.
It suited him perfectly, gazing down from on high.
“Fath...”
“You're here?”
His planned greeting died in his throat. What? Jin Yeo-rip's face stiffened.
The voice held no warmth—only chill. Those eyes burned with clear passion, yet his words and bearing dripped detached coolness.
For face? With guards and maids watching?
Hesitating on what to say, Jin Ha-seong spoke first.
“You worked hard.”
“...Yeah, whatever.”
Jin Yeo-rip scratched his cheek, awkward.
That's it?
He glanced up. The passion in those eyes had faded to calm indifference.
“What did you learn at Shaolin?”
“...Nothing.”
“Is that so?”
A sigh.
Why? Even my fake filial act's getting bruised here...
“Prepared a manor on the edge of the Inner Market. Live there.”
Jin Yeo-rip just stared.
Inner Market? He'd seen it coming in—the second district, outside Taewon's walls. Why not Taewon itself? So Hye said all the Pavilion Master's direct blood lived there. Second wife and her sons too.
Why a separate manor just for him? And this reaction? It threw his plans into chaos. He needed a warm welcome to kick off the good-son routine.
“Yeo-rip.”
“Yes?”
“...Never mind. Long trip—you must be tired. Go rest.”
“Yes?”
He stared hard into his father's eyes, fixed on him. Something unsaid, clearly—but held back.
Fourteen years. Even without a hug, shouldn't there be something? How'd you survive, some comfort?
“One request.”
“Request?”
“No matter what you think—do nothing.”
“...”
“Live like flowing water. That's enough. The rest... father will...”
He trailed off.
What the hell? Tease a guy like that.
Father'll what? And out of nowhere, 'do nothing'? What kind of request is that?!
But no—he was filial, filial, filial.
“Father, hold on. At least...”
As Jin Yeo-rip swallowed his bewilderment and tried for a sweet tone, Jin Ha-seong rose.
“I said it clearly. Do nothing.”
“...”
Nothing left to say. Utterly lost, Jin Yeo-rip stared blankly. That face wouldn't hear more.
His dreamed happy future... vanished.
Live up to expectations, work hard, inherit a fat fortune...
Screw this! Father like that—what filial son?
Why call me back? Just left me to become a monk!
***
“You overdid it.”
“Hm.”
After Jin Yeo-rip left and the maids departed for banquet prep, the warrior Wang Seok guarding Jin Ha-seong spoke up.
“You waited so long—why treat him like that?”
“You know. Even my welcome gives them ammunition. If he catches on to what I'm preparing for him, they'll sabotage it for sure.”
“Master.”
“Yeo-rip must do nothing. Can't draw their eyes yet.”
Jin Ha-seong scowled deeply.
How could he not know? Wang Seok had led the elite guards called Bihwangdae, protecting him for years.
“Yes, I know. My mistake. My greed.”
“...”
“Should've left him at Shaolin.”
“Master.”
“When So Hye came with news of her death, that was it—just wanted to see the boy. How he'd grown.”
Wang Seok gazed pityingly at his master's twisted expression.
How could he not know? Eyes and ears everywhere—he couldn't show it.
Personally, a woman's husband, a boy's father. But to the world, lord of the massive Cheongeumbang merchant house.
His choice back then could've left countless retainers homeless. The Ak family scandal had tanked their credit daily.
He'd had no choice but to ally with Shandong's largest exchange, seizing the chance.
The marriage to Yang Sojin was pure politics.
It saved Cheongeumbang with their funds—but the elders got poached, endless brutal fights since.
Yet he'd prepared in secret. Not to seize power, but so branches and retainers could stand independent after his era. And lay a safe foundation for his son.
Even after Ak family's name cleared, he hadn't called Yeo-rip. Feared they'd take the boy hostage, threaten him—or worse, endanger his life.
Shaolin seemed safer.
“Still, you could've hinted. He looked so shocked.”
“He's young. Shaolin-raised, knows nothing of the world. Didn't want to muddle his first day. And he'd struggle to accept it now anyway.”
Wang Seok gave a wry smile. Sixteen—not that young. Just paternal worry magnifying it.
And that “do nothing” might've shocked him more.
A warm embrace would've sufficed over explanations. But with eyes everywhere, he had to hide his heart. Pitiful.
“Wang Seok.”
“Yes, Master.”
“I'll tell him someday. When all's ready. Even if Cheongeumbang falls to them, I just want him free—no worries, untouched by this filthy battlefield.”
“...”
“Keep it secret till then.”
No need to beg—he could've ordered it. But Wang Seok knew that scorched-black heart too well.
With a heavy sigh, he nodded.