Rising Fame (1)
Probably, Jin Mu-byeok had brought up the Zhuge clan's name to pressure me.
If the Wudang Sect represented the martial world of Hubei Province, then the Zhuge clan dominated its merchant circles.
The two powers, both of the orthodox faction, had always respected each other and rarely clashed. So his implication was clear: for Wudang's sake, don't push the Infinite Merchant Association too far.
Of course, I had no intention of squeezing them further. It wasn't that I distrusted Song Hwan-yeong, but if the Infinite Merchant Association vanished entirely, the Dongho Merchant Association would stagnate and rot as well. A certain level of competition was essential for mutual growth.
Discovering the Zhuge clan's backing of the Infinite Merchant Association in this situation was a major windfall. I knew better than anyone how ruthlessly they controlled Hubei's commerce. At minimum, I needed to build the strength to stand against them—or flee early. Needless to say, running wasn't an option for me.
"I never imagined the Hubei Divine Physician would have such profound martial knowledge."
"Jeon Gil-sang was just weak."
"No way that's true."
I answered honestly, but Jeon Gil-sang's notorious reputation made even that sound like false modesty.
In any case, the truce between the Dongho and Infinite merchant associations was swiftly arranged through the local yamen's mediation. It hardly even qualified as mediation. The Infinite group had overreached and oppressed Dongho; this was merely restoring the natural balance.
"Now your affiliated merchant troupes can get back to work."
"The association's gotten so small it's like starting from scratch."
"Do you have enough manpower now?"
"We lost a lot of people, but the scale shrank accordingly, so we're managing. Honestly, there hasn't been enough work to justify salaries until now. I just gave a little extra to those who stuck around out of gratitude."
"I see. How about assigning some of them to my merchant troupe?"
"Ah, right—you mentioned starting your own troupe. That works perfectly. I trust you."
Song Hwan-yeong already saw me as his benefactor. And truthfully, I had opened up his lifeline.
"How many do you need? I don't know the size of your operation."
"Two errand boys for odd jobs, one clerk for accounting, and one manager to oversee it all and report to me—that should do it."
"Nice and lean. Smart way to start. Hiring too many out of enthusiasm just racks up labor costs."
"Exactly."
Honestly, if the Infinite group had accepted me, I'd have poached from them. But our bridges were burned beyond repair—and that was on them.
"What was your troupe's name again?"
"Hwi-yeong Merchant Group."
"Right, your name—Muk Hwi-yeong. Great name."
"Thank you."
"Ahem. If you're planning to operate in Hubei long-term..."
"Of course. We should join the Dongho Merchant Association."
Song Hwan-yeong and I chuckled in unison. With Infinite as enemies, I didn't have many other options anyway.
For a small outfit like mine, affiliating with an association was far better. It meant faster access to trade news and backup hands when needed.
"We're grateful to have you. No initiation fee."
"I can cover that much."
"We can't charge our benefactor, no matter how tight things are. Reviving the association is worth more than any fee."
"Haha, if you insist."
Music to my ears. Warriors only traded blows; merchants traded words. This was reciprocity, beyond mere equal exchange.
Initiation fees alone ran over ten nyang of silver—that was profit enough. But confirming Song Hwan-yeong's trust as association head was the real gain.
Thanks to the association's connections, finding four solid people was easy.
"To think the troupe master is the Hubei Divine Physician. We'll give it our all."
"I had no idea the Hubei Divine Physician wielded such skill to defeat Jeon Gil-sang."
Song Hwan-yeong had clearly put thought into it; they all seemed competent.
The real surprise was the manager for the troupe—a position of real responsibility.
"I'm Jo Chung-heon. I'll be handling management for the Hwi-yeong Merchant Group from now on."
Troupes with over ten thousand hands were rated as grand-scale, audited directly by the imperial palace. There weren't many across the Central Plains.
When I led the Hwi-yeong Merchant Group to grand-scale status in my past life, only twelve existed. One was the South Gate Troupe in Guangzhou, Guangdong's capital. And Jo Chung-heon had been their chief overseer.
I'd wondered if it was the same man by name alone, but seeing his face confirmed it. A bit younger, but unmistakable. Why a Hubei native ended up in Guangdong was a mystery, but merchants wandered far—it wasn't unusual.
And now, his future in Guangdong was off the table. Reliable talent was rare in this business. Jo was known for loyalty and competence even there. I'd tried poaching him a few times myself, unsuccessfully.
A gem I'd only salivated over in my past life had fallen into my lap by chance. No way was I letting him go. Circumstances be damned—I'd pay top rates and lock him down.
"Troupe master, this salary seems high for my experience..."
"It's fine. Gotta treat my people right."
"I haven't proven myself yet."
"You'll show me soon enough."
Jo scratched his head, baffled. Total trust on first sight? Unheard of. Without foreknowledge of his future, I wouldn't have invested like this either.
"...Thank you. I won't let it go to waste—I'll work hard."
"Good. But take it easy."
"How could I?"
Some people couldn't slack; others could. Jo was the former, which was why I said it.
I just smiled at him. Everyone else got industry-top pay too.
Errand boys, clerk, manager—all blinked at their salaries. Labor was pricey, but pocket change compared to future earnings. Stingy on small things loses the big ones. You catch nothing with full hands.
"Our troupe's task is simple: sell the Green Forest Twelve Forms from the warehouse after winter, come spring."
"The warehouse is packed with them. Why not start now? It's famous among commoners, but not a bestseller. Price doesn't vary by season..."
"It will."
"Pardon?"
"Sells for more in spring. Sounds crazy, I know—but trust me and do it."
Jo looked like he had plenty to say.
Clerks and boys just did their jobs; managers shaped direction. He wanted to advise against it out of concern, but as troupe master, my call stood. Speaking truth to power was a virtue; so was loyal obedience.
"Manager."
"Yes."
"Trust and follow."
After I pressed, he finally nodded.
"I won't be here full-time, so your role is crucial."
"Yes, the association head mentioned that. Extra care requested."
"Right. Before spring, build networks with publishers."
"That means Zhejiang and Jiangsu. Got it."
I grinned. Zhejiang had Hangzhou; Jiangsu, Nanjing and Suzhou.
Old saying: books gather in four places—Beijing in Hebei, Hangzhou in Zhejiang, Nanjing and Suzhou in Jiangsu. He knew the flows cold. Competent underlings made everything smooth.
"Funds are with Infinite Zhan. Clerk, log every expense clearly. Boys, support manager and clerk well. I'm heading back to Wudang—urgent matters, send a messenger there."
"Understood."
With that, I fired the starting shot for the Hwi-yeong Merchant Group's revival. No one knew yet, but soon everyone would.
I finished instructions and returned to our inn in Infinite City. In the courtyard, Myeong-gyeong was swinging his sword. Spotting me from afar, his lips immediately puffed out.
"So boring."
"Sorry, senior brother. Shall we go?"
"Back to the sect?"
His face lit up instantly. Kids' expressions were refreshingly easy to read.
"Yes."
"Wait—no. Weren't you supposed to go home? When's that?"
His joy soured as he hit a sore spot. Sorry, but home was just an excuse. This was for the troupe, not family.
"Ah, probably can't. I sent word."
"When?"
"While we were apart."
Myeong-gyeong eyed me suspiciously. Sharp kids were a pain. Naturally, no message was sent. But he couldn't check, so he'd let it slide.
"Fine, whatever. Gotta train anyway."
"You train every day."
Despite his grumbling, we trained at dawn even camping out. Amid it, he refined my fist and kick forms. My swordplay was better, but he insisted on teaching. Duty of a senior brother, apparently.
The training had yielded results. Maybe Unyielding's influence—my persistence felt stronger. Forms I'd once wanted to quit, I now gripped tight. Even without talent, effort paid off somewhere. Myeong-gyeong said I'd improved.
"Still, first trip out in ages—your parents must miss you."
"Just Father. Mother's been gone years."
"...Oh. Sorry."
"It's fine."
"Even more reason to visit if he's alone."
Surprisingly, Myeong-gyeong fixated on my family. Kids' empathy was unpredictable. I shook my head.
"He's fine. Doesn't even know I'm gone."
Sorry, Father—but thinking of him, already dead in my past life, stirred no waves. We hadn't been close.
"Junior brother."
"Yes?"
"Family is precious."
Unexpectedly solemn from the kid. As solemn as a child could be, anyway—the most serious I'd seen him.
Another senior-brother duty? I just smiled.
Father's face in my mind was blurry. Over twenty years since his death in memory—natural enough.
"Let's go."
Maybe his words stirred guilt over filial neglect. Not the cheeriest feeling.
We left Infinite City for Wudang in Gyunhyeon County. Long-overdue return.