The Merchant's Way - 2
The assaults on the bookstores selling Dangga Pungun grew fiercer by the day.
From organized boycotts to deliberate obstruction of business, trash dumped at the doors, every variety of curse and slander, and even wild rumors that the bookstore owners were sodomizing one another behind closed doors.
In the end the owners who could take no more gathered for a meeting and reached a single conclusion.
"At this rate we can't do business at all. Hire us some protection from an escort agency!"
The representative of the bookstores visited one of Yichang's escort agencies to hire bodyguards.
They had suffered only because they lacked strength. Whether people dumped garbage or interfered with trade, it was enough to thrash the troublemakers and drive them off.
There existed a simple way to uphold commercial ethics and stop selling Dangga Pungun, yet the bookstore owners who had been pushed to the brink refused to admit defeat.
"I've heard the talk lately in Yichang about boycotts and bookstore-harassment campaigns. Is that why you've come?"
The agency master sipped his tea at leisure and asked the bookstore representative.
"Boycotts, business obstruction, trash, and a few days ago there was even an arson!"
The representative trembled with rage as he recalled the recent fire. It had been the bookstore that, next to his own, sold the most copies of Dangga Pungun.
Who would have imagined that shop would get caught up in an arson? Every owner now felt the edge of crisis.
"It wasn't arson; it was an accidental fire, wasn't it? Some beggar trying to roast a chicken over waste paper, and the investigation cleared it. Besides, it was never a large blaze."
"That's merely the story that got around! How are we supposed to know whether that beggar was put up to it by those Daseohoe bastards or not!"
It had not been a major fire. Yet the entire stock of Dangga Pungun stacked outside had burned, and the shop reeked so badly it could not open for some time.
Accident by a beggar, or someone's scheme? In a situation like this, everything became suspicious.
The representative felt he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown from the daily harassment.
"Heh heh. You must be worried sick."
"Ease that worry for us. A few months of protection from your agency should be enough."
"I refuse."
The agency master set down his teacup and cut the matter off cleanly.
"What! With this kind of money you could hire guards even for a wine house! Is it not enough?"
"Certainly, that sum is more than sufficient to protect a wine house against the usual rowdies."
The money the bookstore representative had laid out was large enough to secure protection for a place as trouble-prone as a wine house, let alone an ordinary shop.
"Then why refuse?"
"Right now the bookstores of Yichang have become public enemies. Protecting a public enemy requires far more than that."
"W-we are public enemies?"
"The rumor is everywhere in Yichang. The bookstores violated commercial ethics and enraged both scholars and common folk. That is why even the righteous sects that normally keep order on the streets refuse to involve themselves this time."
"I'll pay triple. Just one month—can you not manage that?"
"We run an escort agency; we cannot afford to be hated by the people of Yichang."
Escort agencies that protected clients and cargo, orthodox sects that protected the streets—both lived and died by reputation.
"Nngh. Fine. I'll try other agencies."
"They will all give you the same answer. Would it not be better simply to keep commercial ethics?"
"This is merchants' business. Don't tell us what to do. And unlike here, there will certainly be agencies that accept the offer if the money is right."
"Then be on your way."
The agency master watched the public enemy leave without a backward glance, then immediately began writing letters.
"Escort captain."
After penning several identical notes he summoned his captain.
"Yes, Master."
"Have the escorts deliver these letters to every other agency in Yichang. Make certain they say they come from me."
"Understood."
The captain took the letters and left.
"A little patience will do it."
Every escort-agency master in Yichang would receive the note and smile. The master watched the captain's departing figure and thought so.
The letters contained only this:
The day we can read Volume 2 is not far off.
"I absolutely have to see the scene where Dang Jeong returns to the Most Beautiful Woman of Sichuan."
The agency master.
He too was a devoted reader of Dangga Pungun.
A member of the Daseohoe.
News that the bookstores were being driven into a dead end reached me hour by hour.
No matter what the Daseohoe did, they always held their meetings at Daseogak.
All I had to do was brew coffee and listen to their stories, like a bartender who greets the protagonist at the end of the day with an old-fashioned and the line, "Sounds like you had an interesting time today."
When every other avenue vanished, the bookstore owners finally appeared at Daseogak in a body.
"Young barbarian, you don't seem to know how the world works. This is how everyone lives. We should settle things nicely. Are you looking for a fight with us?"
"Who the hell are you barking at?! Our bookstore has absolutely no intention of giving up Dangga Pungun!"
"Stop sending those damned letters and tell that writer Hopil or whatever to hurry up and release Volume 2!"
"We're saying we should all live together. Doing it this way just means we all die together."
The bookstore owners rattled on exactly like country bullies who, after being properly schooled, march over to lecture the neighbors about how neighbors shouldn't treat one another that way.
"Get the hell out already!? Want me to make you shit yourselves all day long?"
"Hiiiiek!"
"The Dang Clan woman is about to open her Poison-Killing Space! Run!"
True murim men. Fortunately, when Hwarin could stand it no longer and spoke a single line, they fled at once.
"Looks like it still isn't enough."
After closing for the day I sat at the desk, dipped the brush in ink, and thought over the day's events.
"I'm back."
Hwarin entered the loft looking exhausted.
"How did the brokerage work go?"
Even though the sales pace of Dangga Pungun had slowed, Dang Hwarin's workload remained heavy.
Lately she had been using her title as the sole granddaughter of the Baek household to intermediate contracts between the people who had purchased Baek family assets and those who needed them.
"Yeah. Brokered a silk contract just fine. Just like you said, I had each side name a price in a place where the other couldn't hear, and the introduction fee came out nice and thick."
"Good work. Well done."
"What are you writing? Don't tell me it's another 'This is Hopil' letter."
"No. Those are already prepared. Right now I'm drafting Volume 2 of Dangga Pungun."
"So in the end you will write more 'This is Hopil' stuff… Anyway, you're going to publish Volume 2? But those bastards were acting like that again this morning."
Hwarin made a face of pure disgust, clearly recalling the bookstore owners she had driven off that morning.
"I have every method ready to make those bastards keep commercial ethics. More importantly, Hwarin, after dinner you're going to see the steward uncle, right?"
"Yeah. I have to give him the introduction fees so he can pay down the debts."
"Instead of that, let's eat with the steward uncle."
"Why? W-we should just the two of us go somewhere nice. I made money, so I'll treat."
"I have my reasons. The steward uncle works hard, so let's eat together. Come on, Hwarin."
"Th-this isn't right…"
That evening I took the distinctly sulky Hwarin and shared a meal with the steward uncle.
This is Hopil….
"Will you stop with that damned 'This is Hopil'! We'll go under if this keeps up!"
This is Hopil….
"Our staff are fearing for their lives!"
"We'll give you the books at cost! Just clear the inventory and we won't sell Dangga Pungun anymore!"
This is Hopil….
"Not at cost—free! Take them all, free of charge!"
"P-please, tell Author Hopil not to attack our bookstore. We'll hand over every coin we made from this book!"
This is Hopil….
"We surrender. Please, please stop."
"So now only the very first bookstore we visited is left."
I straightened my clothes in front of the mirror as I spoke. In the mirror I could see Hwarin watching me with a distinctly dissatisfied look.
Something wrong?
"Why have you been out so much lately?"
"Because of the novel."
"The novel? You're drinking and wandering around because of a novel?"
A note of anger entered Hwarin's voice, as if she were sulking. Probably because I had come home late last night after drinking alone.
"That's right."
Maybe I should have told her before I went drinking.
"Yesterday there was a faint scent of powder… Y-y-you're not meeting some woman, are you?"
"Do I look that free? Yesterday I had a drink with the steward uncle on business."
"With the steward uncle? Really?"
"I said so. Don't you trust me?"
I turned toward Hwarin, threw my chest out as if I had nothing in the world to be ashamed of under heaven, and spoke.
"I trust you… No, forget it. Just drink this."
Hwarin brought me a bowl filled with liquid.
"What is this?"
"Honey water. You came home drunk last night, so I mixed some."
Hwarin avoided my gaze as if embarrassed and held out the bowl.
Well now. Someone who even prepares honey water because she's thinking about my hangover. I felt a little moved. Back when I lived alone I used to wake up with a burning stomach after drinking and boil dried-pollack soup myself.
I downed the honey water in one go.
"Ahhh… So this is the honey-water taste that drunkard was searching for. Sweet. So sweet."
"Pfft. What are you even saying, seriously."
Hwarin dropped her suspicious stare at my clowning and laughed softly.
"Hwarin. Come out with me."
I set the empty bowl aside and spoke to Hwarin, whose mood had improved.
"Where?"
"There's only one bookstore left that's still selling Dangga Pungun without permission."
The bookstore representative. Only the very first shop we had visited had refused to raise the white flag.
"Right?"
"Follow me. Time to finish this."
Now it was time to end the war.