What Kind of People Are We?
Having already seized roughly half the taverns and inns of Seongdo, Hwi-yeom introduced something Dang Un-hwa had never heard of in his life: a cumulative stamp system—coupons.
At every restaurant Hwi-yeom owned—all of them operating under the single brand name Baekga-jaengsik—customers received a stamp with each meal. Once enough stamps had been collected, free food or drink was theirs.
The real stroke of genius was that the stamps were shared across every Baekga-jaengsik shop in the county.
People started visiting only Baekga-jaengsik restaurants just to fill their stamp books. Once the books were full they came back to redeem them—and ordered something extra while they were at it.
The system kept customers from drifting to other establishments and funneled them straight into Baekga-jaengsik. Sales soared.
Of course there was pushback.
“So you’re telling me someone can collect stamps at another shop and then eat for free at mine?”
“Haha. That’s exactly why we have the contribution fund, isn’t it?”
Every franchise paid a fixed monthly sum into the Hwi-yeom Comprehensive Finance account. At the end of the month they submitted the stamp books that had been redeemed, and the cost was settled out of the contribution fund.
Owners who saw fewer redemptions sometimes grumbled, but concepts like mutual-aid societies, village cooperatives, and shared labor were hardly foreign to the people of this era.
And what kind of world was this, after all?
Whether Black Path or Orthodox, every martial sect collected protection money from shops as a matter of course. A “contribution fund” that actually guaranteed a certain level of profit barely registered as unfair.
In truth, most owners never even needed to worry about the details.
Sales were exploding.
They had complained about giving away free food; now they felt embarrassed by how much money was pouring in.
Baekga-jaengsik was a runaway hit.
“Long live Young Master Hwi-yeom!”
“Ah, truly the treasure of Sichuan!”
“Damn right! What good did it ever do Sichuan when one of the Ten Great Masters came from here? The one who’s actually changing Sichuan is the young master of the Dang Family!”
Business boomed and the owners cheered. Quality and taste were guaranteed, and ordinary townsfolk could thriftily use their stamps—everyone was happy.
Pump-priming marketing. Already proven effective even in the twenty-first century.
Free food makes people order more food and drink. Stamp collection makes them seek out that specific shop. Cost-to-benefit ratio? No contest.
Latecomers among the inns and taverns tried to copy the system, but a stamp book that worked only at one lonely restaurant felt pointless next to the network of shops all flying the Baekga-jaengsik sign. The gap widened. Shops that had been sitting on the fence gradually drifted under Baekga-jaengsik’s shade.
Riding that momentum, Hwi-yeom launched the next venture.
Delivery!
The memory of a Korean—who once lived in the country with the finest delivery system on earth and who would shout “Death without delivery!”—was screaming at him.
Of course, in a world without telephones or chat apps, the delivery he remembered was impossible…
When you have no teeth, use your gums.
He decided to overcome the problem the old-fashioned Central Plains way: sheer numbers of people.
He posted notices throughout Seongdo hiring staff.
1. Sell signal flags to customers who wish to order Baekga-jaengsik delivery.
2. Order agents patrol fixed districts on a schedule, approach houses flying the flag, and confirm the order and address.
3. Order agents collate the information, proceed to a settlement hub, and hand the details to settlement agents.
4. Settlement agents sort the orders, place them with the respective shops, and dispatch delivery agents.
5. Delivery agents wait for the food to be prepared, then carry it to the customer.
“That will not be an easy enterprise.”
“Which is why we intend to begin only in the immediate vicinity of our Dang Family estate.”
Sichuan Province was more than twice the size of the Korean Peninsula. Seongdo itself covered 2.3 times the area of Seoul.
I cannot cover every last corner at once.
If a competitor already held the ground he would have poured money into the fight regardless. But no one in Sichuan had ever attempted food delivery, and as long as the Dang Family controlled Baekga-jaengsik the business would not be easy to copy.
Grow it slowly and solidly. There is no hurry.
Above all, there were no veterans who already understood the work. Hwi-yeom would lead from the front, yet one man could not manage a city 2.3 times the size of Seoul alone. He needed people who had internalized the process before he could expand.
So for now, even if only as a training ground for those people, the territory had to be limited.
“Even if you restrict the area, the outlay will not be small. Order agents, settlement clerks, delivery runners—paying all of them will cost a fortune. Delivery fees can only go so high, and selling flags for a few copper coins will barely help. Startup costs will be heavy and fixed costs substantial. Can this truly become a business?”
“Father, this son has no intention of making money from it.”
“What?”
“The real money will come from the State-run Ironworks and coal. Right now we have only Hogol-go, black ink, and a few other items, but the workshops will keep turning out new products.”
“Then why pursue food delivery at all?”
“First, to raise the name of the Dang Family. After the cholera crisis, the fountains, and Baekga-jaengsik, more than a few already call the Dang Family the greatest in Sichuan. If delivery further sweetens the people’s daily lives, our name will spread even farther.”
“If it is only for reputation the accounts do not balance. What else?”
“Information.”
“Information?”
“Father, why do the Beggar Sect and Haomun rank among the greatest intelligence networks in the Central Plains? Do they possess ghost-like spies who steal every sect’s and the imperial court’s secrets and buy high officials with bribes? Some of that exists, of course. But in the end their power comes from sheer numbers. Beggars, courtesans, thieves, swindlers, and shop boys are everywhere.”
Scraps of conversation overheard by people scattered across every corner of the Central Plains. Observations gathered simply by watching traffic. Those fragments had built Haomun and the Beggar Sect into the intelligence giants they were.
“Father, we can do the same. Scatter agents across every inch of Sichuan soil and make them our eyes and ears. Once it becomes normal to see our people on every street the way one sees beggars of the Beggar Sect, we will hold formidable intelligence in our hands. Street rumors, who is where, who is traveling from which place to which place—under the cover of ‘delivering food’ we can even trail people without raising suspicion.”
“Hah…!”
“And unlike beggars, shop boys, or courtesans, our agents will methodically comb every alley. We will know Sichuan like the palm of our hand.”
With that dense a grip on local knowledge, almost any hostile move against the Sichuan Dang Family could be spotted in advance.
Nor was the venture doomed to stay forever in the red.
Right now it loses money, but later the order agents can double as sales reps—like the old-school peddlers or field marketers. Flags can shift to a subscription model with discounted delivery fees. Annual prepayment for a discount would even pull cash forward.
“Ah—almost forgot. Once we start buying the properties where the settlement agents work and turn them into hubs, those hubs can grow into logistics warehouses. Delivery agents can then carry not only food but every product made by the Sichuan Dang Family.”
“…….”
“The know-how—experience—we build here can expand beyond Sichuan to the entire Central Plains.”
Years ago the company Hwi-yeom had managed, Eclipse, had absorbed A-HA! ZONE, whose original core was online book sales and delivery. Starting with food delivery and eventually seizing the great arteries of Central Plains logistics—who could guess how far that ambition reached?
Listening to his son, Dang Un-sang felt a genuine shiver.
“…Mad….”
“Pardon? Father?”
“Ah—nothing.”
His own blood, yet he found himself wondering just how far ahead the boy was looking when he set these schemes in motion.
“So, in the end, food delivery is a smokescreen—profit is welcome, losses are acceptable. What you truly seek is mastery of Sichuan’s intelligence network?”
“Exactly.”
“If it unfolds as you say, our Dang Family becoming the true greatest of Sichuan would no longer be impossible.”
“Father, you are mistaken.”
“Hm?”
“Not greatest of Sichuan. Greatest of the Central Plains.”
“Hey, Ma!”
“What is it?”
“It’s almost the hour of the Horse. What about lunch?”
“Ah, already? What shall we eat today?”
Ma Jong-un, cousin of Elder Ma Jeonggu and master smith of the White Horse Forge, glanced down at himself and shook his head. His work clothes were black with soot; sweat soaked him through. Showing up at a restaurant like this would get him turned away at the door. Proper washing would break the rhythm of the work.
“Just order Baekga-jaengsik.”
“Convenient, I’ll give you that.”
“A bit pricier than eating there, but worth it.”
“What are you getting? Fried chicken? Noodles? Soup rice?”
“We need the strength. Fried chicken for me—Gongbao chicken with a bowl of rice.”
“Sounds good. Same for me. Hey, kid! Come take the orders!”
The forge’s youngest ran among the smiths collecting orders. He stepped outside, walked a short distance, and stopped at a place marked by a green flagpole. After a brief wait a man in a green headscarf approached at a quick pace.
“Placing an order?!”
“Yes.”
“Go ahead.”
“Four Gongbao chicken, two one-flavor fried chicken….”
The order agent pulled out paper and began marking symbols:
○ ｜｜｜｜
△ ｜｜
Even those who could not read could record dish type by symbol and quantity by tally marks—another of Hwi-yeom’s innovations. Science might develop in strange order, but while addresses were neatly organized, literacy remained rare in the Jing Empire. Streamlined order-taking and record-keeping demanded the shortcut.
“Order received. Delivery in about one shichen.”
“Understood.”
The order agent hurried along his route. After three corners he found a settlement agent waiting under a sunshade.
“Good work!”
“Orders here!”
The order agent handed over the slip, then collapsed into a shady spot beside the settlement desk, looking worn.
“Counting this as a patrol, maybe I can rest a bit?”
“Don’t. If word gets out you’ll be in deep trouble. Haven’t you heard the Dang Family’s eyes and ears are everywhere around here?”
“…Tch.”
Risking the Dang Family’s wrath just to sit a few minutes longer was not worth the copper.
“…I’ll do one more circuit.”
A little later the settlement agent handed the half-shichen’s accumulated order sheets to the shop boys who arrived from the various inns—one boy each for fried chicken, noodles, soup rice, and the rest. The boys carried the lists to their kitchens. When the food was ready it was the delivery agents’ turn.
“Heading out with the delivery~!”
A delivery agent opened the lid of a wooden square box. Partitioned compartments held the dishes; for noodles he sealed the rims with oiled paper and string, exactly as one sealed a wine jar, so the broth would not spill. A few early complaints about sloshed soup had taught the skill quickly. He closed the lid, shouldered the box carefully, and set off at a measured pace.
Scenes like this had become everyday sights throughout Seongdo. The people of Sichuan had already sunk deep into delivery culture.
When things reached this point, the tavern and inn owners who had held out the longest finally swallowed their fear of the Sichuan Dang Family’s name and came to protest.
“Are we all supposed to starve to death?”
“Not at all. First, please look at this contract.”
Whenever people from the food trade appeared, Hwi-yeom produced a contract he had prepared in advance, as though he had been waiting for them.
“What kind of contract is this?”
“A franchise agreement. Read it carefully.”
“We told you we have no interest in that sort of thing!”
“Then shall we shut down every Baekga-jaengsik in Sichuan? At least look once.”
It was the first franchise contract in the history of the Central Plains.
Article One. The food offered shall be limited to three dishes or fewer.
Article Two. The franchise shall employ a specialist cook supplied by Baekga-jaengsik, or a cook who has completed training under such a specialist. The franchise owner may request that Baekga-jaengsik provide a specialist cook.
Article Three. The franchise joining fee is ten guan of silver.
Article Four. To unify the interior atmosphere, renovation shall be performed through a carpentry shop, artisan, or the Innovation Hall designated by the Sichuan Dang Family. Initial construction costs shall be borne by the Sichuan Dang Family; subsequent renovations shall be borne by the franchise owner.
Article Five. Franchisees shall share daily sales figures and stamp-book ledgers with all other Baekga-jaengsik franchisees. Any falsification shall be the sole responsibility of the individual franchise owner.
Article Six. Upon compliance with the above, the Sichuan Dang Family shall recognize the franchise and its owner as direct-line merchants under the Family Head’s office and shall exert its utmost effort to protect their rights and interests.
The merchants scrutinized every clause again and again, yet nothing looked like a loss.
“No monthly tribute? Just ten guan of silver when we join, and that’s the end of it?”
“Yes. Unlike the merchant houses under the branch families, who are accepted only as collateral lines, you become retainers under the direct line itself.”
The merchants’ faces went blank.
“We… become direct line of the Sichuan Dang Family? Not branch?”
“Branch families are distant relatives of the direct line, are they not? What you are speaking of are the retainers and merchants those branch families keep—subcontractors of subcontractors. You, on the other hand, become the Dang Family’s own directly managed shops.”
When Hwi-yeom first floated the idea, Dang Un-sang—who normally approved almost anything his son proposed—showed deep concern. Only after Hwi-yeom finally persuaded him and the matter was brought before the full assembly did the Elder Council literally have a fit.
“This completely humiliates the branch families! How would a branch family then differ from an outsider?”
Hwi-yeom met the elders’ fury with a smile.
“Humiliate? The branch families keep merchant houses beneath them; now the direct line simply wishes to keep a few of its own. Is there a problem?”
“What of the morale of the merchants already under the branch families?”
“That is for the wise elders and seniors of the branch families to manage. You have long supported a direct line that only drained money without earning any. Now that the direct line has finally woken up and wants to make a living, why the uproar? You act as though someone poured molten iron into a rat hole.”
“Young—Family—Head—!!”
The elders flushed crimson and nearly spat curses—curses would have been less humiliating—yet their rage was only the rage of men whose true motives had been pierced and who had nothing left to say.
A philosopher from the Western Regions once said: when a man runs out of arguments he resorts to insults.
Hwi-yeom lifted his chin as if daring them to speak. Elder Gong Duchan’s eyes blazed—until Family Head Dang Un-sang slammed his palm onto the table with a crack that silenced the hall.
Five years earlier Dang Un-sang had barely been able to speak in Gong Duchan’s presence because of debts owed to Chahwa Bank. That man was gone. Now he stared at Gong Duchan as though he would kill him if necessary. An elder who had learned only a few flashy hand tricks could only shrink under that pressure.
Dang Un-sang snorted, then looked each remaining elder in the eye until they averted their gazes.
“Enough. There is no wrong in the direct line extending its hand into commerce to restore the family’s finances. The branch families will raise this matter no further.”
“….”
Gong Duchan ground his teeth in frustration but did not open his mouth.
In the end the Elder Council, grinding its teeth, could no longer interfere with Hwi-yeom’s restaurant franchise. The branch families’ power shrank a little more.
Hwi-yeom’s successive victories and the Family Head’s office rising like a new sun left Dang Un-hwa lately uneasy about his own position.
“So that brat is finally making his move….”