The Smart Little Brother Ploy
“That’s……”
Ever since she’d started calling her uncle Gyeon Wihak “Uncle,” Ryeon had been calling Gyeon Eonjo “Gyeon Grandfather” at his insistence. Gyeon Wiun, rarely one to step forward and explain herself, now found herself in that exact spot. Her face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and awkwardness as she continued softly.
“My brother couldn’t come with me to the Danmok family estate… Father—no, the Pavilion Master—told me not to come, worried people might misunderstand if I showed up alone.”
Ryeon caught on immediately. Gyeon Eonjo must have been concerned about Gyeon Wiun being mistaken for the heir.
“But how could I scout out a family we’ll be doing business with as a member of the trading group without visiting? So here I am, disguised like this, a bit shamefully.”
“Your brother—you mean Young Master Wijung? Why couldn’t he come?”
“……”
“……”
Gyeon Wiun’s lips moved silently. Ryeon recalled what she’d heard about Gyeon Wijung’s reputation and ventured a guess.
“Liquor? Gambling?”
The servant jumped again. Gyeon Wiun lowered her eyes a fraction more.
“It’s embarrassing.”
So the eldest had gotten too drunk to make the trip, and to be fair(?), the second couldn’t come either. But they couldn’t skip the visit entirely, so she’d come disguised as a servant. ‘I thought she was the cool type…’
Ryeon had heard Gyeon Wiun was the sort who, passed over for inheriting Mansong Merchant Group, started her own and succeeded. Her cool-headed, sharp decisiveness was known even to three-year-olds in Zhejiang Province.
‘Didn’t expect her to be so passionate she’d disguise herself and sneak in just because she was told not to come.’
Then again, that kind of drive was probably why she’d succeeded on her own from nothing.
“What do you think of our family estate, Aunt Wiun?”
“Pardon?”
Gyeon Wiun flinched at the sudden “Aunt.”
“Gyeon Grandfather told me to call Wihak ‘Uncle,’ so that makes you Aunt Wiun, right?”
“W-Well… yes.”
“So speak comfortably with me.”
“Uh… alright.”
Judging by the servant’s wide-eyed stare, Gyeon Wiun looking flustered was a rare sight.
Gyeon Wiun took a deep breath and continued. “The estate… it has a charming simplicity, without flaunting power.”
She couldn’t very well tell a child their home looked rundown and shabby…
Watching her, Ryeon activated her Divine Eye. Starlight sparkled over her pupils.
“Hmm. But looking too unpowerful isn’t great either, right?”
“Eh? Well…”
“Miss!”
The servant behind her startled and tugged Gyeon Wiun’s sleeve. Gyeon Wiun coughed awkwardly and denied it.
“No, no. Nothing like that.”
“Still, fixing up the mansion and gathering more martial artists would be better, yeah?”
“True. Honestly, right now it’s a bit…”
“Ugh!”
The servant bit her lip hard and called to Gyeon Wiun, on the verge of tears. Ryeon smiled, eyes crinkling.
“That’s why I’m selling Qinglian Water this time to make some money. Heard about it?”
“I did. You’ll be able to spruce up the place in no time.”
Cupidity flickered in Gyeon Wiun’s eyes. To her, Qinglian Water was a winner, and she clearly wanted to manage it herself for the profits.
Ryeon beamed innocently. “Once we’re rich, I’ll take the family to the best restaurant.”
“Sounds wonderful.”
“Yeah! And especially for little Hwaryun, I’ll buy new clothes.”
“Oh? Uh…”
Suddenly hearing about some unknown child, Gyeon Wiun couldn’t interrupt and just nodded along.
“Just for him?”
“Yep! Hwaryun’s super smart and can do everything by himself.”
“I see.”
“But since he’s so good at everything, even though he’s my little brother, there’s nothing I can do for him.”
“Makes sense. He must be really bright.”
“Totally! I can’t take proper care of him, but Hwaryun always looks after me and little Bi diligently.”
“Really? What a good kid.”
“Thinking about it makes me feel bad. So I’m buying new clothes just for Hwaryun.”
Gyeon Wiun, who’d been nodding absently with a “Yes, yes,” suddenly froze. Staring down at Ryeon with wide eyes, she watched as Ryeon smiled sweetly, then claimed she had to go teach her siblings their letters. Waving goodbye, Ryeon slipped away without another word.
* * *
“Is Ryeon eight?”
“Yes. She awoke from her sickbed last autumn, so she’s eight this year. She’ll turn nine after next February.”
Back in the carriage, Gyeon Eonjo rubbed his furrowed brow as his trusted retainer spoke. He pondered his third child, Wihak, who’d been frighteningly intelligent at that age.
—And while it’s less potent than what I make myself, there’s also a simpler, cheaper version of Qinglian Water. Could we sell this by the unit to medical halls?
Same product, different grades, different prices. The expensive one would seem more valuable, the cheap one more accessible—what better strategy? That a child had thought of it was astonishing. Even if advised by someone, the awe remained. Having such a serious advisor nearby was talent in itself.
“The former family head is blessed in his later years…”
He’d expected to rise together as old friends, but while Danmok Cheon-gi paid the price alone for saving the martial world—losing his eldest son young and his granddaughter to a living death—Gyeon Eonjo’s heart hadn’t been at ease watching. That’s why he’d rushed over upon hearing of this strange Qinglian Water. If the Danmok family could produce something new, it meant they were preparing to rise—he wanted to lend a hand.
“…But is Wihak studying well?”
The retainer trailed off, unable to answer. Gyeon Eonjo pinched his brow.
The youngest was studying at the famous Jukrim Academy in Hwizhou, known for producing exam passers and popular with merchants’ children—that’s why he’d sent him there. But every report from the academy lacked anything praiseworthy, leaving even the retainer speechless.
“Still, Elder, everyone says the young master is the most Hwizhou-merchant-like in Hwizhou…”
“You mean he’s attending the tavern every day!”
People joked that Hwizhou merchants spared no silver for official hats or wine and song. They never missed chances for office or revelry. Gyeon Eonjo was footing the academy bills, so if Wihak was showing Hwizhou spirit…
Gyeon Eonjo sighed heavily, pulling out a vial of Qinglian Water and rubbing his temples. A cool mist seeped in like clear fog, banishing his headache and sharpening his mind like in his twenties. Truly miraculous.
“Ryeon gave me a fresh bottle, so I’ll send it to Wihak with a note that his cousin wishes him top honors in the exam.”
Top honors? If he just passes the local exam, even at the bottom, that’d be enough…
“And the eldest?”
“He rose in the afternoon, took his medicine, and went to check the shops.”
Word from the distant main house had arrived swiftly. Gyeon Eonjo clicked his tongue.
“If he’s hungover, he should at least pretend to be ill…”
He knew his eldest’s drinking buddies were no good, but Wijung wasn’t incompetent—just not exceptional—and he couldn’t purge them like rats. Wijung’s reputation made it harder. He could only wait for him to cut ties himself and take the business seriously.
Gyeon Eonjo’s sigh faded quietly.
* * *
“Ah, Miss. What are you doing back so early…?”
“Where’s brother?”
“He went to the market district. To check on the shops…”
“Hmph, probably off gambling.”
Gyeon Wiun snorted, then hardened her expression. The servant held her breath.
Gyeon Wiun stayed silent a long while, rubbing her brow before turning to the servant—loyal since her youth.
“Call the physician and have him prepare hangover remedies in advance.”
“Pardon? Hangover…? Ah, yes.”
“And…”
Gyeon Wiun sighed deeply, glancing around cautiously. She knew how much her father cherished the Danmok family; her shallow martial arts let her sense presences nearby.
As a nosy servant wandered off, Gyeon Wiun spoke quickly. “Send a letter to Eun Sogang asking to borrow some men.”
“Pardon?”
The servant’s eyes widened. Eun Sogang was the vice leader of the Black Heaven Lotus’s Thirteen Legions, Third Legion.
“What for…?”
“I need to shake off those parasites clinging to my brother. Tough, tight-lipped men to give them a scare. Can’t find that in Zhejiang…”
“You mean… the young master’s friends?”
“Yes. Go!”
“A-Ah, yes!”
At Gyeon Wiun’s fierce glare, the servant bolted like he’d been spanked.