Chapter 10
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: Father's Voice Was Truly Resolute
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10. Father's voice was truly resolute.
"Young master, we'd like to do business with you."
The thick, pungent stench of unwashed bodies stabbed at my nostrils.
This was on the level of "have you no shame?" kind of stink.
No matter how rough the times, how could these lowlifes target the pocket money of a five-year-old?
Wait, no. From what I'd heard, these two already knew exactly who I was.
Common sense dictated that two able-bodied men wouldn't swarm a kid just to snatch his snot-rag change.
So, kidnapping? Abduction? In broad daylight, right in the middle of the market?
These guys were completely insane.
I scowled at the two con men in front of me and snapped curtly.
"What kind of deal?"
"It won't be a loss for you, young master. How about we move to a quieter spot and hear our proposal...?"
Yeah, right. I knew that line was coming.
Why else drag me off to some deserted alley for a kidnapping!
And for times like this, I had my ace in the hole.
Strong, literate enough to read a few characters, good with numbers, quick on the uptake—and above all, the most expensive slave sold in Hanyang this year. Big brother's gift number two: Dori.
A quick glance, and Dori picked up on it like a ghost, stepping forward.
"Head clerk, sir. How have you been?"
"Good to see you too, Dori. You look healthy as ever—must be doing well in that household."
"Haha, yeah, serving the young master has its perks."
Hm. What was this? Why were they so chummy?
After exchanging warm greetings with the would-be kidnappers for a good while, Dori sidled up and whispered in my ear.
"That's the head clerk from when I was with the guild. He helped a ton when you were writing that book last time."
"Oh yeah?"
"Remember what Haksae mentioned? The clerk who got grabbed by the collar by that lord."
"Ah..."
Oh dear, so he was a victim too.
No wonder he seemed so friendly. Should've said so sooner.
I immediately dropped my guard and bowed politely.
"Hello. Heo Gyun here."
"Haha, greetings. I was in such a rush I couldn't even greet you properly. Let me introduce myself again. I'm Kim Deok-su of the Hanyang Merchant Guild, and I have something urgent to discuss with you. Could you spare a moment?"
"Hm... sure, why not?"
"Thank you so much. I'll grab us a table at that tea house over there. Do you like sikhye? Or sujeonggwa?"
"Sujeonggwa for me."
"Got it, young master."
I didn't know the details, but if he'd been collared by Father and had his luggage ransacked because of me, the least I could do was this much.
Might as well score a bowl of sujeonggwa while we're at it.
As we walked toward the tea house, I whispered to Dori.
"What's his deal, popping up out of nowhere? Know anything?"
"Not sure why he's here, honestly."
"Huh? Then what's he like?"
"Good character. Treats slaves and servants well, no rough edges. Oh... and."
Dori made a circle with his fingers.
"He's famous in the guild for sniffing out money like a bloodhound."
Kim Deok-su.
He was born thirty-odd years ago as the illegitimate son of Kim Hwaseong, former governor of Suwon.
Fortunately, Kim Hwaseong doted on his children and wasn't the cruel type to discriminate against or neglect a bastard.
But the laws of rank and status were ironclad.
So when Kim Deok-su was old enough to read and think for himself, his father called him in and said:
- Your birth makes scholarly exams impossible. If you want to be a doctor, I'll hook you up with an apothecary. Merchant? I'll find you a guild spot. Pick one and speak up.
- If I have to choose, merchant.
Low birth meant no shot at the great exams anyway.
No desire to bleed over studies for a minor post, slaving away behind haughty nobles forever.
Born poor? Might as well pile up wealth and live fat.
At his son's words, Kim Hwaseong pulled a paper from his drawer.
- Fine. Here's my letter of recommendation. Head to the Hanyang Merchant Guild.
With that intro, Kim Deok-su joined the guild and took to merchant life like a fish to water, rising fast.
From servant to clerk, clerk to head clerk, head clerk to main branch manager.
Father's connections plus his own grit propelled him up the elite merchant path. Then recently, he caught a whiff of serious money.
At an inn for a meal:
- Hmm, the stew isn't fully cooked.
At a pleasure house for drinks:
- Hey, you sell something called Golden Fried Chicken?
At the main shop doing business:
- Got that book Culinary Duel: Jang Geum?
All from nobles in gat hats and silk robes.
This stank of opportunity. A thick, intoxicating scent of riches.
Fish from the markets? A hundred won't match one bolt of silk.
Real money flowed from those gentry in their finery—and something big was brewing among them that he didn't know about.
Back at the guild, Kim Deok-su ordered:
- Go find out what this Culinary Duel: Jang Geum is, now.
- Head clerk, isn't that the book the young Heo heir wrote recently? You were griping about getting collared unfairly on the first of the month.
- What, that's it?? Still got a copy?
- Yeah, thanks to Vice Minister Heo ordering ten transcribed copies, we made a sample. Want it?
- Bring it quick.
The clue was right under his nose.
He snatched the book and devoured it, then bellowed:
- Next volume!!
"We want exclusive rights to the book you wrote and the recipes in it for our guild."
"I'm a merchant, not a scholar. No grasp of the Neo-Confucian morals in there, nor any interest. But as a merchant, no one appreciates this book's value like I do."
"Won't you trust me and make this deal?"
Kim Deok-su read Culinary Duel: Jang Geum over and over.
So many times the sample's ink flaked off, until he pinpointed the money spots.
Stepmother and Jang Geum's transcendent bond?
Heartwarming, but no profit.
Gourmet Unicorn An Sung-jae's grand contest?
Ingenious, but no cash.
Jang Geum's triumphant path to victory?
Cathartic, but broke.
Two goldmines in this book.
First: Foods endorsed by the Heo clan—top nobles and famed gourmets.
From obscure regional delicacies to the Golden Fried Chicken that clinched Jang Geum's win.
Monopoly supply to every pleasure house in the eight provinces? Hanyang Guild dominating Joseon's flower-and-willow world would be child's play.
"The eight provinces' wealth flows straight to you, young master!"
Second: It's a serial.
Even the tastiest dish tires eventually. Recipes leak, copycats swarm sans contracts.
What if the next volume drops right then with fresh recipes?
"Infinite engine, right?!"
Ah, he could see it: Hanyang Guild expanding beyond the capital to Gaeseong, Pyongyang, Uiju, Dongnae, Naju—a golden future!
From branch head to guild master, a silk road of success!
Kim Deok-su asked confidently:
"What do you think of my plan, young master?"
"Uh..."
So, basically a chicken franchise.
Not hard to share recipes, sure.
"Well..."
Problem: Writing new stuff.
After that last fiasco? Do it again?
No matter if Father was Jesus, Buddha, and Confucius incarnate—twice was too much. Twice was too much.
The money tempted, but we weren't hurting for cash.
Eh, whatever. No.
"Sorry, doesn't work for me."
"No! Why throw away this golden chance?!"
"It's just... writing more right now feels tough."
"Ah!"
Fair enough—no masterpiece like that comes easy.
But Kim Deok-su was prepared even for that.
He pulled a small wooden token from his bosom.
"No worries. I've got it covered. Look at this, young master."
"Hm, what's that?"
"A First Reader Token."
First Reader Token.
Right to read first.
For him and the guild, dumping all recipes at once was wasteful.
Drip-feed them as sales dipped, like savoring hidden dried persimmons one by one.
"Not a whole volume—just one installment at a time. Only token holders read it."
Cuts the writer's burden.
Picks nobles' pockets for the cliffhanger itch.
Guild controls the pace.
A scheme centuries ahead, worthy of a money-sniffing demon.
Still a no. Staring at the token, I spilled the real issue.
"Hm... it's not that. Father would oppose it."
"Vice Minister Heo?"
"Yeah, nearly got reamed last time for the book."
"?"
No way.
He'd commissioned ten extra copies, happily distributed pricey ones free to the Bureau of Books and National Academy. That was Heo Yeop.
Misunderstanding.
After a moment's thought, Kim Deok-su said:
"Then may I go persuade Vice Minister Heo myself?"
"...Won't work."
"Leave it to me!"
"Fine... do what you want."
Wonder what insults he'd eat.
Tch, whatever—doomed anyway. I nodded reluctantly.
Father, hearing the full story, said:
"Write it."
"Pardon?"
Father's voice was truly resolute.
"Write it."
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