The Declaration - 3
Business is the kind of beast that breeds trouble when it's failing — and trouble just as surely when it's thriving.
"When a business grows, the number of people you must employ grows with it."
"Exactly. We've left inn operations to the franchise owners' discretion, but delivery training, pigeon couriers, ingredient logistics — there's no end to the things that need my attention, from one to ten."
As the business scaled up, the people under me multiplied. And as the headcount multiplied, we needed middle managers too.
The delivery corps had grown large enough that I had to create instructor positions to command them; the pigeon couriers were being raised by retired courtesans that Lady Ha Yeon had bought out of their registries. Food-related matters were comparatively easy — after all, Chef An was there.
I walked the front lines and personally demonstrated how I'd been allocating the personnel we needed.
"Your staffing is wise enough. But I wonder if you haven't centered yourself too heavily on outward expansion."
It wasn't slapdash, but it felt like we'd only grown the bulk. Wasn't the crucial backbone — the whole structure — being held up by you and you alone, Kang Yunho? From the main office, Jeon Un-yeop paged through documents and offered his inspection impressions as if in passing.
A sharp observation.
Daseogak's Wuhan and Yichang branches. The main Ungi Inn, Gilsan's establishments, the Joseon mutual aid society franchises. With business flourishing day by day, I had collided head-on with the problem I could not avoid.
My workload is getting out of hand.
Expenses, ledgers, managing trading partners, taxes — everything touching money was the worst of it. Because there was no one I could trust enough to hand it to.
Things were manageable when Lady Ha Yeon and Lady Jegal shared the burden. Back then, anyway.
Is this how Liu Bei felt when he lost Pang Tong among his Crouching Dragon and Fledgling Phoenix? With Pang Tong gone, Zhuge Liang alone was headed for death by overwork.
I wanted to shout — pity Lady Jegal! Boss, guarantee your employee's days off! Down with seven-day weeks and sixteen-hour shifts! — except I was the boss.
Granted, once this crunch period passed, things might ease a little. But the problem would remain.
Because I still have to keep writing novels.
I had to write novels and become famous. To do that, I had to earn money and spread Daseogak across the Central Plains. But in earning money to write, I couldn't find time to write.
A vicious cycle, in other words.
"It's true that in expanding outward, you haven't been able to fortify the core."
I nodded and acknowledged Jeon Un-yeop's point.
"I know money matters can't be carelessly entrusted to others. But—"
"Which is exactly why I said I had something to show you today."
How to solve the staffing shortage? I didn't need to agonize over it.
I already had the solution in hand.
——
I needed people to handle the miscellany of running the whole enterprise.
They'd be touching money, so they had to handle numbers. They'd be doing paperwork of every kind, so they needed some professional training.
They had to be of unimpeachable character, and better still, satisfied with the wages I paid and loyal besides.
Easy to say.
Do you think I studied hard so I could work under some barbarian's heel? That's the world we live in. Was there any way to find trustworthy people?
Of course there was an answer.
"Master of the Association. The three men I mentioned to you before."
Because I had the Joseon Hometown Association — a place where I could pick talent as I pleased.
Chef An, observing full courtesy before the Master of the Association, brought three Joseon men before me.
"We greet the Master of the Association!!!"
Bowing at a perfect right angle. Polite bunch, aren't they.
"Right. You need work?"
"We've never learned the martial arts, and we have no talents we could make a name with in the Central Plains, so our means of survival are bleak. Please, help us."
Most of Wuhan's Joseon migrants were at the bottom rungs of society.
Just as even college-educated foreign workers end up doing manual labor abroad, most of them worked as common laborers.
There were surely educated people among the association struggling to get by right now. My prediction had hit the mark.
"I can create a position."
Part of me wanted to escape overtime for good, but patience for a moment. I looked over the three men with a mildly indifferent expression.
"R-really?!"
"But there's only one position."
"One... only one?"
Begin by manufacturing a sense of crisis.
Only one of the three who came to my office today would walk away with a job. The color that had risen in their faces gave way to dread.
"Let's see. Chunsam, was it? Good at arithmetic?"
"Yes! When I was young, my father — he was a village clerk — taught me numbers! I handle the abacus so well it lives inside my head."
"I see. Hmm... good with figures, you say. And Deokbae? What are you good at?"
"I can't do mental math as fast as Chunsam, but I handle the abacus well too. In my youth I worked as a clerk for a merchant house, keeping ledgers and organizing documents."
"And Mansik?"
"I worked as a steward back in Joseon. Being a son of a concubine, I also managed the estate's accounts. My numbers may run a bit slower than these two, but no one can outdo me at running errands for others!"
"Right."
Maybe it was because there was only one position, but each of them was doing a fine job of selling the others' strengths.
The association had certainly pulled out its A-grade talent for me. But I had no intention of hiring anyone just yet.
I had to shake these men to their core. Concealing my satisfaction, I regarded the three of them with a cool, unimpressed face.
"Master of the Association, I know it's a shameless ask. But if this goes on, my family and I will be cast out into the street. I beg you!"
"Master of the Association, I only want to put food in my wife and children's mouths. If you'd give me work where I can at least carry home a cold meal, I will never forget this debt."
Did they think I was unsatisfied? The three men sank to their knees, pleading.
I said nothing and let the silence stretch.
I looked back and forth between the documents holding their personal records and the men themselves. Each time my gaze settled on one of them, the shoulders of the unchosen trembled.
If they went home like this, they'd have to starve their families. For all they knew, all three of them would fail.
Whichever of them ended up in that seat, right about when their true hearts had been laid bare—
"All of you report to the main inn tomorrow morning."
I said it with a small smile.
"Is... is that really true?"
All three stared at me in open disbelief.
"What, none of you want to work?"
"N-no, it's just — you said there was only one position..."
Once you've whipped the tension up to a fever pitch, you have to explain why you saved them.
"Because you three look like men who need a chance, not men who lack ability."
"...!"
"Now prove that my judgment wasn't wrong."
I'm straining myself to take all three of you.
Affirming the three men who would become my subordinates while elevating myself at the same time. A way to raise loyalty with just a few words.
"Master of the Association!"
Don't cry. Why do you men all want to burst into tears?
"You are my general affairs staff. From now on, you'll be running a very great many of my errands."
"We will serve you with heart and diligence."
"We will give you our full loyalty!"
"Master of the Association! Accept our bow!"
Now, time to wrap it up.
I rose from my seat and pulled out a pouch.
"This should do. Buy yourselves a proper set of clothes, each of you. You all live in the shantytown, I hear? Chef An will provide spare rooms in his residence. Move your families in, eat something good, and report for work tomorrow."
I handed over my purse to them without a moment's hesitation.
The Master of the Association was so worried about us that he handed over his whole purse. A moving scene, no?
It didn't take long for the three men to shed tears of gratitude.
Truthfully, the pouch had been prepared in advance for this little performance — but there was no need to mention that.
—————
"These are the men who will handle Young Master Kang's assets. Wasn't that a rather hasty decision?"
One thing finished, so on to the next?
Jeon Un-yeop, watching the Joseon men depart, spoke with a slightly doubtful look. You don't just hire a man because he seems capable, you know.
"Chunsam is brilliant with numbers but weak-willed, always struggling to claim his fair share. So long as his wages arrive on time, he's a man who will never cause trouble."
"Yes...?"
"Mansik's mother is a Jurchen. He was despised from childhood — told he was neither Joseon nor savage — before he came to the Central Plains. Perhaps because of that, he hungers for recognition from others."
I turned the next page of the documents as I spoke.
"Deokbae has one son — lame from birth — and two daughters and an elderly mother besides. He works himself to the bone to feed them, but he has never coveted another man's goods, and his reputation reflects it."
"That is... "
I smiled as I watched Jeon Un-yeop blink in bewilderment.
"It took a long time. I asked the Joseon community of Wuhan to find me trustworthy, capable people — said I was looking for my own hands and feet. So everyone, without exception, came forward with candidates."
I had been searching for people for quite a while now. It had simply taken this long to find the right ones.
"Hmm."
"Those three have remarkable reputations. I told Chef An to keep quiet about it, but in truth I meant to hire all three from the start."
"If your mind was already made up, why insist on secrecy?"
Jeon Un-yeop carefully probed my intent.
Right. Telling people to report for work tomorrow would have wrapped things up just fine. But that wouldn't do.
"People never forget, for as long as they live, the hand that was freely extended to them in their hour of need."
What I wanted weren't employees. I wanted my own people.
Bonds forged with money are forgotten the moment the belly is full — but a person who acknowledged you will surface in your memory no matter how far into life you look back.
The Master of the Association who, for the sake of a man who had long lived unseen and unthanked, strained himself to reach out a hand.
That was the stage I had set today.
"Hmm."
"You've witnessed an embarrassing display. It wasn't a mere employment arrangement — I used a small trick to gain people of my own. I ask your generous understanding."
"How could one find fault with a man who reaches out to those in dire straits?"
"Thank you."
As long as you see it kindly, that's all I need.
"I see now why the Joseon people hold you in such respect. It's no accident."
"I'm just a fellow in Wuhan who never worries about his three meals a day."
No medals for admiration, thanks.
"Inspecting alongside you today, I saw countless Joseon faces. And it wasn't the look men give the wealthy — every last one of them gazed at you with a sincerity-born blend of awe and respect."
"I'm grateful to be seen so favorably."
"There is exactly one person around me who receives such looks every single day."
"Yes?"
Jeon Un-yeop gave me an odd little smile, then continued.
"Never mind. I've seen everything I needed today. I should deliver the Lord of Mangeum's remaining message."
"Which is?"
There's more besides the inspection?
"A certain fellow said he'd come see my face once he'd steadied himself, yet he never came. That is all."
Ah. Right — I promised I'd visit after the Haomen affair wrapped up.
"I'll come tomorrow."
Good. I'll dump some work on the new hires and then pay my visit.
**
"It has been some time."
Is this how a student feels, facing the homeroom teacher with summer homework unfinished?
The next day, I found myself facing a man I'd rather never meet — but eventually had to.
"You must have been gravely unwell."
The Mangeum Lord did not lift his eyes from the business report I'd sent ahead, tossing out the remark with barbs attached.
"There are many people riding on my shoulders, you see. Once I stumbled, I couldn't simply get up and start moving again."
It wasn't that I didn't want to see you — I merely had to untangle the mess around me first.
Although, honestly, I didn't want to see you.
"Which is why a merchant must always manage his own health with the strictest discipline."
"I'll bear that in mind."
Why are you nodding like you understand? I expected more of a scolding.
"Well. Your business does seem to prosper by the day."
Did that please him? The corner of the Mangeum Lord's mouth curled upward.
"The wind blows fair; I need only unfurl the sails."
"Heh heh heh. You build the ship yourself, then credit the wind, do you? Yes. I was beginning to wonder how long you'd foolishly burn midnight oil with ink-stained hands. It seems you weren't so foolish after all."
Perhaps because I'd only now gotten around to finding staff to shore up the core, a mildly reproachful look settled on me.
It was meant to be a shared burden. But it's money, and I couldn't hand it to just anyone. The excuse flickered through my mind — but only one answer came out.
"I wasn't searching for employees to hire with money. I was searching for hands worth staining with ink. That is why I was late."
The Mangeum Lord was the friend of the Lord of the Baek Family Manor, who gave and gave to his people until the very end.
As Hwarin's fiancé and the husband of the old lord's granddaughter, I held to a creed: commerce is, above all, the work of leaving people behind.
It's a persona, granted.
But remarks that evoked the old Lord of Baek worked remarkably well. And seeing the Mangeum Lord wear the expression of a man who'd just taken a solid blow to the chest was quietly satisfying.
"I hear you and my granddaughter get along well."
"Our minds are in accord. We trust each other and lean on one another."
I nodded along obediently. We had been living under one roof for months now — denying my relationship with Lady Jegal would have been absurd.
"Good. This much will suffice."
A satisfied murmur escaped the Mangeum Lord's lips.
"Don't tell me — I passed?"
Is my debt finally forgiven?
"At this level, you needn't be ashamed to speak of it before anyone."
But the words that followed were nothing like what I had expected.
"I... don't understand what you mean...?"
"Your qualifications to become my successor."
...I'm sorry, what?