Take It Easy
It went without saying, of course, that natural rubber was nothing like synthetic rubber.
Hui-yeom could not recall the precise formulas for making synthetic rubber, but he still retained a fair amount of knowledge about processing the natural kind. The tour he had once taken of a “Mom’s Hands” rubber-glove factory proved especially useful.
The manufacturing process for rubber gloves is fairly simple.
You collect the natural rubber sap—latex—into containers, then add coagulants such as calcium chloride and acetic acid so the latex will set properly, along with various chemicals like carbon black that improve the rubber’s quality. After mixing thoroughly, you dip metal glove-shaped molds into the solution, withdraw them so the mixture coats the forms evenly, and dry them with hot air. Next comes a dusting of powdered sulfur, followed by heat treatment in an oven—the vulcanization process. Finally you peel the finished gloves inside-out off the metal molds, and they are done.
And every last material is already on hand.
The biggest potential headache—latex? Already secured. Calcium chloride? Splash some of the hydrochloric acid stored in the underground levels of the Poison Hall onto the limestone stockpiled for cement and it forms at once. Acetic acid? That was simply vinegar. More precisely, vinegar was acetic acid diluted to fourteen to eighteen percent, so boiling off the water would yield what he needed. Carbon black? The English name made it sound fancy, but it was just soot. The Cheol-u-jeon was overflowing with the stuff. Sulfur? Everywhere.
Rubber boots will need to be harder than gloves, so I’ll have to use guanidine (CH5N3) as a hardener… Long live Sichuan, seriously.
The reason Hui-yeom suddenly felt like worshipping Sichuan was that the raw material for guanidine was the bat-guano fossil he had discovered right here in the province. The very name “guanidine” came from guanine (C5H5N5O) extracted from guano, which was then treated with a strong base and heat. The method? Suspend enough guanine in water (it does not dissolve), add caustic soda (NaOH), and heat to between 150 and 200 degrees.
The combination of Sichuan soil plus the Sichuan Dang Family is nothing short of a scientific-revolution cheat code.
Hui-yeom once again felt profound gratitude that he had been reincarnated into the Sichuan Dang Family of all places. He had been a lifelong atheist, yet by now he believed in the existence of a god by more than half. If reincarnation was real, why not a deity as well?
Deciding what to make, how to make it, and designing the entire production process filled him with endless delight. Humming under his breath, Hui-yeom kept extending the branches of his thoughts.
Pneumatic rubber tires… hmm, natural rubber might be a stretch. I’ll put that on hold until synthetic rubber appears. Still, even just sheathing existing wheels instead of inflating them would dramatically increase tire life and cushion the axles. Heavy vulcanization plus an extra roller-pressing step…
It was pure joy.
Watching Hui-yeom hum without end while casually sketching out blueprints as if doodling, Lee Jinmyeong gaped in open exhaustion.
Is this thing even human?
He had already given up on the fact that miraculous inventions simply poured out of the young master the moment he put pen to paper. Accepting that the heavens had sent down a once-in-a-generation genius was the only way to stay sane. But did the man never tire?
What kind of person on earth worked while smiling so happily and humming the whole time? Nearly three days now, and he had barely slept!
Even Sama Yun, who rarely lost her smile over ordinary matters, finally reached her limit and dragged him away.
“Dang Gaga! You’re going to work yourself to death!”
“Come on, it’s not that bad…”
“Listen to me! Right now—go eat, wash up, and get some proper sleep!”
“But time is precious—”
“Hhhhh!”
When Sama Yun planted both hands on her hips and glared, Hui-yeom scratched his head and let out a small sigh.
“All right. Shall we eat together, then?”
“Gladly!”
Beaming, Sama Yun called to Lee Jinmyeong.
“Secretary Lee, please ask the kitchen to prepare a light meal—something easy on the stomach, like porridge with egg and chives.”
“I don’t like porridge…”
Hui-yeom’s picky protest earned him a contemptuous snort.
“Do you know what fails first when a person pulls consecutive all-nighters? The stomach! The protective mucus dries up, the lining thins, and if you dump spicy, oily Sichuan food onto that, the stomach acid and chili oil will hold hands and melt Dang Gaga’s stomach wall. I refuse to watch that happen, so you will eat exactly what I tell you!”
“Ah~ so that’s why porridge—to go easy on the insides? Then why egg and chives?”
“Egg for nutrition, chives for blood circulation and liver recovery.”
Is that really the important part right now? This person is definitely not normal.
Lee Jinmyeong turned away with a hollow laugh. While he was giving the kitchen orders he would also tell them to prepare a warm jujube tea with honey for dessert. After the abuse his brain and heart had suffered, it would be like rain on parched earth.
Honestly, what an exhausting boss to serve.
“Hey, Secretary Lee.”
“Yes, yes.”
Wondering what new task was coming, Lee Jinmyeong looked back. Hui-yeom spoke with a smile.
“You eat with us too. And I’ve got some red-ginseng honey tea I received as a gift—have them bring that out for dessert as well. Call Ye-eun, and if Elder Bak Chang-eon has time, invite him too.”
“…Mealtime is already past, but I’ll pass the word.”
“Good. And I’m sorry, Secretary Lee. You couldn’t even eat because you were watching my mood, right? I got so absorbed in work I lost track of time. After we eat I’ll give you a proper rest period, so let’s take it slow.”
“…Yes!”
Lee Jinmyeong turned and walked away with a noticeably livelier step, smiling to himself.
Honestly—getting so excited by work that you forget mealtime. There was no more exhausting superior in the world.
Which was exactly why he had to take good care of the man, so he wouldn’t collapse.
They carved out time amid the rush and enjoyed a belated lunch. Over the red-ginseng honey tea Hui-yeom had prepared and the grilled ginkgo skewers Bak Chang-eon brought (excellent for improving blood flow, relieving fatigue, and sharpening the mind), they chatted about this and that. The moment when Hui-yeom, who had dragged every topic back toward business opportunities, finally stood up with a cry of “Time to work—work!” only to have a smiling Sama Yun plant him back in his seat with what looked suspiciously like the subtle principle of Four Taels Moving a Thousand Catties (yes, that very essence of Wudang martial arts) earned spontaneous standing ovations in the hearts of everyone present.
A restraint device capable of controlling the unstoppable Young Master has appeared!
The honey practically dripping from Bak Chang-eon’s eyes as he gazed at Sama Yun was only natural.
Hui-yeom laughed in helpless amusement.
“I never knew Yun-mae was such a nag. If you’re like this already, once we’re properly married and you move into the main quarters you’ll have me completely under your thumb, won’t you?”
The joke carried a real barb, yet Sama Yun lifted her chin without the slightest retreat.
“I never knew Dang Gaga had so little self-control. Looking at you now, you’re a pure workaholic. Of course I have to nag.”
“Working hard is a crime now?”
Her twin eyes flared at his protest.
“What a dangerous thing to say~! Gambling, drink, and women can ruin a household, but work addiction is just as dangerous. Are you trying to make a young widow?”
“Even so, it’s not that extreme—”
“A man who has lived in his office for three nights and four days without even two full hours of continuous sleep has a lot of nerve talking.”
When Hui-yeom slowly turned a glare on Lee Jinmyeong, the secretary whistled and averted his eyes. Sama Yun immediately thrust her face into Hui-yeom’s line of sight, blocking it completely.
Even angry she was beautiful, yet her force of presence rivaled Zhang Fei at Changban Bridge.
“As far as I’m concerned, the glory of the Sichuan Dang Family means nothing compared to Dang Gaga living a long, healthy life. From now on you will keep a proper balance between work and rest. No dying of overwork until the day dirt fills my eyes!”
This was basically a rebellion.
In the end Hui-yeom had no choice but to raise the white flag.
“Yes, yes, I understand. Your humble servant comprehends, Your Excellency the Grand Secretary of the Cabinet.”
“Ahem. As long as you understand, Minister of Personnel.”
When Sama Yun took his joke one step further, stroking an imaginary beard with a theatrical “ahem,” Hui-yeom finally burst out laughing.
“Why am I the Minister of Personnel?”
“Because you squeeze talent to the absolute limit. You could also make a strong case for Minister of Revenue, given how you wield money to control people, but the way you wring human beings dry is pure Ministry of Personnel.”
“I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or a curse.”
“It’s a compliment.”
Hui-yeom, grinning as he endured the scolding, and Sama Yun, whose usual elegant and decisive demeanor had vanished as she chattered happily like a lark—Bak Chang-eon’s expression softened into pure contentment at the sight of them.
A true match of handsome man and beautiful woman, heh heh.
The betrothal between the two families still had a little over two years left. It had been arranged for political and practical reasons, yet Bak Chang-eon found it hard to suppress the classic old-man affliction—the irresistible itch to preach “Have children already!” the moment he saw young people.
The Young Master is remarkable, of course, but Miss Sama is no ordinary talent either… Their child is bound to be someone who will command the world. I only hope I live long enough to see that day…
That warm interlude passed, and daily life resumed.
Hui-yeom remained a work demon, yet because of Sama Yun’s nagging he at least made an effort to secure two consecutive hours—four full hours—of sleep each day. Clearing the backlog that had piled up during his absence, secretly assisting the development of guncotton and smokeless powder in the Dang Family’s underground facilities that Baek Beon was not supposed to know about, developing the multi-launch rocket system to present to the Emperor and the saltpeter fields needed to produce the black powder for it, the roads and tunnels that would stretch beyond Sichuan into Yunnan—there was no end to the matters requiring his attention.
Yet the presence of Sama Yun and the Sama retainers proved an enormous help. Sama Yun’s performance, in particular, was outstanding.
“Secretary Lee, these statistics are wrong.”
“Pardon? Where… huh? You’re right. I’m sorry. But how did you even notice?”
“Numbers like these ought to be memorized. Are you going to dig through last month’s report every single time you need production figures?”
“…My apologies. I’ll memorize them from now on.”
“And Elder Jin Cheong, the figures in the pesticide production and disbursement report look off. Why did you set the unit cost like this? By my calculation the production cost could have been reduced by at least ten percent.”
“Raw material prices exist, you know. I attached the original ledgers; this is the best we can do.”
“Those material prices are strange. According to the reports I received, pyrethrum can be purchased in Jianxian, Yunnan Province, for thirty percent less. So why deliberately calculate at this price? If there were pyrethrum farms in Sichuan and you were protecting them, that would be another matter…”
“Eh? Ah, no, it wasn’t anything like that… How do you even know the pyrethrum prices in Jianxian, Yunnan…?”
“Last month the Minjeongwon submitted a regional agricultural price report. Page five, line twenty-five, I believe… Secretary Lee, fetch that report from the shelf over there.”
“…Oh. It’s real.”
“Elder, I understand you’re buried under an enormous workload, but this won’t do. You have to cut costs where they can be cut. How can you constantly complain about budget shortfalls while missing things like this?”
“…I have no face left. I will be more thorough from now on.”
“I’m not even the lady of the Sichuan Dang Family yet—just a collaborator of Dang Gaga—so please don’t feel too burdened by the advice.”
“Yes…”
“And, Blacksmith Supervisor, why is the defect rate in the iron ingots like this?”
Soft-spoken, gentle, and methodical, Sama Yun ground people into fine powder. In no time she had established herself as a superior nearly as terrifying as Dang Hui-yeom himself.
So there are two monsters.
Bak Chang-eon gazed up at the heavens and sighed.
If Hui-yeom was the “inventor-innovator” type of genius—someone who conceived ideas no one else could and then built concrete plans to turn them into reality and run them—then Sama Yun was an “operations-management” genius, gifted with a supernatural sense for detecting the distortions that appeared when people moved inside the frameworks Hui-yeom created, and for correcting them at once.
If Hui-yeom was Steve Jobs, Sama Yun was Tim Cook. If Hui-yeom was Bill Gates, Sama Yun was Satya Nadella.
Recalling how he had once smiled so fondly at what a perfectly matched pair they made, Bak Chang-eon now gave a hollow laugh.
When a successor who inherits everything from both of them is born… what kind of monster will that be?
At the very least, he had no desire to work under such a being. Retirement was the only path to survival.
Bak Chang-eon made that private vow to himself.