Influencer Marketing
Not long after the Dang Family members had returned home, the Provincial Commissioner and his wife hosted a tea gathering for Qingming—the fifth of April by the solar calendar.
From time immemorial, Qingming had marked the start of the farming season, and it had long been custom to gather the officials at around this time, exchange views on the year’s agriculture, pray for a bountiful harvest, and enjoy a leisurely tea banquet.
Officials great and small from the Sichuan Provincial Administration Commission—the body that oversaw the province’s civil administration—were of course in attendance, as were a good number of high- and low-ranking officers from the Sichuan Provincial Surveillance Commission, which handled the judiciary, and the Sichuan Regional Military Commission, which commanded the province’s armies.
Once the rites praying for a good harvest were finished, the tea banquet began. While the officials gathered to discuss affairs of state, their wives naturally formed a separate circle of their own.
The mistress of that circle was the Provincial Commissioner’s first lady—for the first ladies of the Surveillance Commissioner and the Regional Military Commissioner, who might have claimed equal rank, had not attended.
And as always happened when women gathered, the conversation eventually turned to compliments on one another’s beauty.
“My word, Sister—have you turned back the years? How on earth have you grown so lovely?”
“Truly, truly! And your skin—how is it so firm and plump?”
Younger people might have laughed at the talk, yet among the older ladies there existed an aesthetic standard all their own. Day by day the age spots and wrinkles only multiplied; their obsession with the condition of their skin surpassed all imagination.
As the wives of high ministers they lacked neither money nor influence. Anything said to aid rejuvenation, they procured and ate; restorative tonics they had simmered and swallowed without fail. The wives of lesser officials were no different—if anything, more desperate still.
High ministers were often advanced in years, their manhood already somewhat diminished, or else so buried in public and private business that they had no leisure for wandering eyes. The wives of minor officials, however, and their husbands as well, were mostly still in their twenties to early forties. Should a vigorous husband take a young concubine, the wife could not help wondering whether her own fading looks were to blame; she clung all the harder to her beauty and employed every means possible to prevent such an outcome.
When those ladies crowded round her, eyes shining with envy, the Provincial Commissioner’s first lady gave a soft laugh.
“Really now—flattery as well?”
“Oh, look at this sister of mine! When have I ever spoken to you like that?
And speaking frankly, what would I gain by flattering you? My husband is only a Regional Military Vice-Commander. Even if he stands well with His Excellency the Provincial Commissioner, there’s nothing to be had from it.”
The Provincial Administration Commission, the Regional Military Commission, and the Surveillance Commission each governed separate spheres; their personnel were entirely distinct. The argument was sound enough that the first lady allowed herself a faint smile.
“Hmm… is that so?”
“Completely different, I tell you. With a little exaggeration I’d say you’ve gone back to your forties. So out with it—what’s the secret? If you’ve found something good, share it with us.”
The other ladies, though the gap in their husbands’ ranks kept them from asking so freely, all wore the same gleaming eyes. Only then did the Provincial Commissioner’s first lady chuckle.
“It’s nothing much, really… I’ve recently gained a grand-nephew, and the boy sent me a gift.”
“A grand-nephew? Oh, congratulations, Sister!”
“Felicitations, First Lady!”
“Ahaha—not a blood grand-nephew. The son of my adopted nephew.”
“Adopted nephew?”
“The truth is…”
She explained the whole story. The ladies listening with shining eyes brightened further still at the mention of cosmetics created by the young heir of the Sichuan Dang Family.
“The Sichuan Dang Family—that famous house of poisons?”
“Not only poisons; I’ve heard they are equally skilled with medicines. Poison, used rightly, becomes medicine, and medicine, used wrongly, becomes poison.”
“Do you… happen to have any?”
“Of course. Girl—go to my chambers and bring those cosmetics.”
“Yes, First Lady.”
The designated maidservant returned from the first lady’s rooms with the cosmetics and set them on the table. Admiration burst out on every side.
“Good heavens—this is a cosmetics case? Not a jewel box?”
“I’d believe the box itself was an ornament. It’s far too beautiful.”
These were the hidden-weapon artisans of the Sichuan Dang Family, men who could fashion ox-hair needles no thicker than a cow’s hair and engrave scriptures on metal scraps the size of rice grains. Though the craft of making hidden weapons had been lost, their skill with metal and wood had not vanished; a case they had set out to carve and adorn became a work of art in its own right.
Enjoying the ladies’ gazes of envy and jealousy, the first lady picked up one case and opened it.
“This is the moisturizing ointment called Three-Day Snow. Would you like to try some?”
“May we?”
The wife of the Regional Military Vice-Commander, with whom she was especially close, promptly applied the Three-Day Snow and cried out in delight.
“How can it be so soft, so moist, so refreshing?”
In that age the only cosmetics one might smear on the skin were coarse white powder or, at best, a coating of camellia oil. To women accustomed to such things, the soft, moist embrace of an aloe lotion was nothing short of a new world.
“It soothes cracked skin, dryness, burns, and redness with remarkable effect, I’m told.”
“It’s wonderful… What are the others?”
“Ah, these.”
The first lady opened the remaining cases one after another.
“This is rouge—Undrying Rouge, so it never dries out and lasts forever. And this is Charming Lash Ink… you apply it like so…”
“Oh my!”
“How extraordinary!”
The ladies who had already marveled at the pretty color and silken feel of the Undrying Rouge now clapped their hands and sighed at the sight of lashes lifted and set by the Charming Lash Ink.
“Oh… this is truly… oh…”
When the brief display ended, flames burned bright in every lady’s eyes.
“So, Sister—these can be obtained from the Sichuan Dang Family?”
“Yes. Since my grand-nephew made them… shall I procure a few for you?”
“Please do, Sister. I’ll settle the account myself…”
Meanwhile the same scene was unfolding not only among the women but among the officials as well.
“I say, Vice-Commander—why are you walking like that?”
“Ah, Your Excellency the Provincial Commissioner.”
The Regional Military Vice-Commander who had been singled out gave a bitter smile.
“It’s embarrassing. Yesterday as I dismounted I simply made a mistake and twisted my ankle.”
“Dear me—you must be more careful. Does it hurt badly?”
“The ankle is swollen and walking is a little troublesome, but it’s nothing serious. A few days and it should subside.”
“Even so—have you not sought treatment?”
“I summoned the official physician, received acupuncture, and applied a plaster good for sprains… yet I cannot say whether it has helped.”
“Hmm… is that so? You there—bring from my chambers the wooden case carved with a tiger.”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
A servant bowed and vanished. The Vice-Commander asked,
“A wooden case carved with a tiger? What is that—a medicine chest?”
“Something of the sort. There was a man I once regarded as a brother; his grandson presented me with an ointment.
And a remarkably wondrous thing it turned out to be. I’m certain you’ll take a liking to it as well.”
“Ah, I see.”
Even as he answered, the Vice-Commander held little expectation. A grand-nephew, however old, could scarcely be more than a youth in his teens; what proper article could such a boy produce?
Even the great Provincial Commissioner softens before a grandson, it seems.
He was ready to dismiss it as an old man’s fond nonsense when a black wooden case engraved with a black tiger arrived before him and his eyes flew wide.
“My word—the case alone is extraordinary.”
“Indeed, Your Excellency. An artwork one would hardly believe to be a mere medicine chest.”
Other officials who had gathered by now all joined in praising the beauty of the case. Black sandalwood lacquered and polished, a tiger carved in exquisite relief with golden stripes, eyes of amber and teeth of carved ivory—clearly the case itself was worth no less than any ordinary treasure.
The Provincial Commissioner opened it and held it out to the Vice-Commander.
“Scoop some of the contents and apply it to the injury.”
“My thanks, Your Excellency. Well then…”
The moment the Vice-Commander spread Hogol-go on the wound, his expression turned wondrous.
“What… what is this?”
“Good, isn’t it?”
The Provincial Commissioner grinned; the Vice-Commander nodded, still half-dazed.
“It’s as though a warm poultice is working from inside the body—hot yet cool at once. And I can truly feel the injury mending. To think such a miraculous medicine existed.”
It was merely the menthol of mint and the other herbs producing a cool sensation and stimulating blood flow; yet to one who had never felt such a thing, the cool-yet-warming heat felt exactly like genuine healing.
“What is this precious treasure called?”
“An ointment named Hogol-go. Made with tiger bone and… whatever else was in it. At any rate, a sovereign remedy for injuries to bone and muscle.”
“Tiger bone? Something so precious is in it?”
“That a grand-nephew could create such a thing—truly remarkable.”
The praise made the Provincial Commissioner swell with pride for no reason of his own.
“Naturally. My late sworn brother was once Family Head of the Sichuan Dang Family. And what house is the Sichuan Dang? Was it not the foremost clan of the Central Plains in hidden weapons and poisons?”
“Ah, now I understand. Hidden weapons are often tiny things hard to see with the eye; no wonder a case made by the same craftsmen’s hands is so precise and beautiful.”
“The potency of the medicine is understandable as well. Medicine and poison share the same origin, do they not?”
The Vice-Commander gazed a moment at his still-throbbing ankle, then asked the Provincial Commissioner,
“Your Excellency—might I be able to obtain this medicine?”
“Hmm. If I speak, my grand-nephew will hardly refuse. But why?”
“As you know, military men injure themselves often. If I distribute a few as gifts, everyone will be delighted.”
“Hmm. I do not doubt your ability, yet if your subordinates receive so luxurious a gift, will they not be at a loss where to put themselves? The price must be beyond anything a junior officer’s pay could imagine…”
“I’ll give only the high officers the luxurious ones; for the rest, what does the case matter? The contents are what count.”
“Hmm, true enough. Very well—I shall speak of it.”
“Er… Your Excellency, might I obtain some as well? After long years of official duty my lower back…”
“My neck…”
“My shoulders…”
“Aigoo—we are all growing old together; each of us has some place that ails us.
Very well—I’m in a generous mood! I shall present every one of you with ten jars of Hogol-go as a gift.”
“Our deepest thanks, Your Excellency!”
“Truly, Your Excellency is peerless!”
Pleased that his grand-nephew had allowed him to look so generous, the Provincial Commissioner nodded with a thoroughly satisfied expression.
“Heavens—I never imagined the effect would be this good. In the end you were right.”
Having received the flood of orders that poured in from the Provincial Commissioner and his wife, Dang Un-sang sought out Hwi-yeom with a bright face.
Hwi-yeom smiled gently.
“The volume is rather large, but I’ll prepare it as quickly as possible.”
“Understood. What price are you thinking? The raw materials aren’t that costly, yet our craftsmen’s labor is involved and the cases are expensive—have you discussed a proper price with Elder Bak Chang-eon?”
“Elder Bak Chang-eon said, ‘To fix a price and notify them is the inferior strategy; to let them set the price themselves and offer it is the superior one.’ This son agrees with that counsel.”
“Aha! Indeed worthy of wearing the title of head of the Elders’ Council.”
Hwi-yeom recalled his days running a business in the twenty-first century.
Chinese people possessed fierce pride and a great love of ostentation. They enjoyed exchanging gifts, yet at times found the practice terribly burdensome. Where a Korean regarded equal exchange—returning a hundred-thousand-won gift with a hundred-thousand-won gift—as a virtue, a Chinese person insisted that face required returning more than one had received.
They call it mianzi culture—face. I profited handsomely from it myself.
Even when entertaining Chinese businessmen and Communist Party cadres in his previous life, Hwi-yeom had never stinted on fine gifts. Those fellows, even if it meant pulling up the very pillars of their houses, always returned greater profit and greater gifts in exchange.
This case is the same. The other party stands at the very pinnacle of Sichuan’s political world. And the Sichuan Dang Family, no matter how we puff out our chests, looks to the officials like nothing more than a local gang boss.
If his face is not to be injured, the old man will have to pay handsomely. If we set a price and inform him, he will pay a little more than that. But if we set no price and simply send the goods, he will pay a price beyond anything he can imagine.
Entertaining the sly thought, Hwi-yeom grinned, then offered the craftsmen rewards and ordered them to produce goods of the highest quality as swiftly as possible.
And exactly one week after those goods arrived at the Provincial Commissioner’s official residence, an endless procession of carts reached the Sichuan Dang Family.
“Wh-what is the meaning of this?”
Hwi-yeom, momentarily stunned, snapped back to his senses at his father Dang Un-sang’s words and answered,
“…It seems he valued the connection rather generously.”
Having distributed precious goods as gifts and thereby performed a perfect display of face throughout all of Sichuan, the Provincial Commissioner had, in his satisfaction, sent an absurd quantity of treasures in return. The sheer extravagance lightly surpassed even Hwi-yeom’s prediction of generosity; he clicked his tongue.
“What a magnificent show of ostentation. Well, good for me, at any rate.”
“Hm? What did you say?”
“Nothing. Well then, Father, I’ll go supervise production now.”
“Hm? Have you not already delivered everything?”
“Far from it.”
Hwi-yeom grinned.
“The real busy season is only just beginning. If possible, assign me a few more craftsmen.”
Hwi-yeom’s words proved correct.
The ladies who had received the cosmetics began boasting to everyone around them; the women thus suddenly outshone ground their teeth and tormented their husbands. Sighs of henpecked men rose so thickly they seemed ready to shake the whole of Sichuan Province.
The military officers were no different. The moment they beheld the wondrous efficacy of Hogol-go, every one of them began inquiring where it might be obtained, and before long every shop in Sichuan was thrown into emergency.
“What do you mean we can’t get any delivered?!”
“Elder Gong Duchan? Damn it—what do I care! If we’re the only ones who don’t sell it, we’re the only fools left looking like suckers!”
“To the Dang Family—go straight to the Dang Family. Sign a supply contract there and we’ll be sitting on a mountain of money!”
Merchants came pouring in like a herd of water buffalo. Waiting to receive them was Hwi-yeom, business smile firmly in place.
“Gentlemen. I am the developer of those cosmetics and of Hogol-go, and the one who holds full authority over their manufacture and sale—the young heir of the Sichuan Dang Family.”
Seated in the place of honor, Hwi-yeom spoke with easy leisure.
“How much research did you do before coming? Suckers… I mean, valued customers?”
I wonder if you’ve ever heard of “name your price,” he murmured softly to himself. The wicked expression of a multi-tentacled multinational conglomerate chairman plundering the Third World—the same face he had worn when hammering raw-material suppliers in Southeast Asia—had not gone anywhere.