Fifteen Again (2)
That thought came over me again, and I let out a sigh.
And then I kept thinking deeper.
What if this was just a hallucination right before death?
Then there was nothing to be done about it. What more could a dead man do?
But what if I'd truly returned to when I was fifteen?
At that notion, I bit my lip.
If so, then everything I'd endured in that life was a future barreling toward me in this one too.
I didn't want to meet such a miserable end again.
Especially since a clash with the Baekcheon Merchant Group, backed by the Murim Alliance, was inevitable anyway.
My dream was to make the Eunhae Merchant Group the greatest in the world—and I had no intention of abandoning it.
But to achieve that, I needed the power to protect myself, my family, and the group.
Having lived through that horrific future made the need feel all the more urgent.
The Baekcheon Merchant Group had the Murim Alliance behind them.
They overwhelmed in both wealth and martial might.
As I racked my brain seriously, voices drifted in from outside—Palgap and another servant.
"Huh? Is it snowing already?"
"Ah, shoveling snow's gonna be a pain."
"Hope it doesn't pile up too much."
I couldn't help but chuckle at that.
The snow that started falling around lunchtime the day after my fifteenth birthday was unusually early for the season, so it stuck in my memory.
And I remembered it piling up quite a bit too.
Suddenly, I bolted upright in bed.
"That's right! Why didn't I think of that sooner?"
If I'd returned to the past, that meant I knew what was coming in the future.
Including the serendipitous opportunities.
Those opportunities had no owners yet.
And what had no owner belonged to whoever picked it up first.
"But before that..."
I flopped back down onto the bed.
"I've got to do something about this frail body first."
Looking back, I felt pity for how I'd managed to live with such a weak constitution back then.
As a child, I'd been a perfectly healthy boy, just like any other.
But after turning twelve, my health started declining bit by bit, until by twenty, I could barely walk without a cane.
But that wouldn't happen this time.
I knew exactly what was wrong with my body now.
'And I know all the good and bad events coming in the future too.'
If I moved faster than anyone else using that information, I'd reap the biggest rewards.
I clenched my fist tight.
If I'd truly turned back time, then I had to avenge myself and my family.
Even if the destruction of the Eunhae Merchant Group and my death hadn't happened yet, to me, they already had.
One thing nagged at me, though.
The last words Namgung Gang, the head of their merchant group, had flung at me right before killing me.
"Truth is, the higher-ups wiped out the Eunhae Merchant Group because of you."
Because of me...
For starters, our group had competed too fiercely and openly, getting in Baekcheon's way.
I could tell that much from what he'd said earlier.
But something told me there was more to it.
Why emphasize me at the very end, after listing all those other reasons?
'I'll have to look into this slowly. There's still plenty of time.'
I'd died at thirty-nine.
That left me with over twenty years.
And I had no plans to change my goals.
'You looked down on my money? Fine—I'll use that money to bring you all crashing down.'
That afternoon,
I was summoned by my father.
As I pushed open the door to the merchant lord's office, I saw him seated at his desk.
Tears welled up at the sight.
Eun Gil-sang, lord of the Eunhae Merchant Group.
That was my father.
In the future, he'd passed the position to my eldest brother and retired.
But not long after starting the retirement life he'd so longed for, he fell ill from some unknown cause and passed away before anyone could do a thing.
Unlike that sickly image etched in my memory, he looked robust and healthy now—and emotion surged in my chest.
I must have turned red holding back the tears, because Father tilted his head as he looked at me.
"Your face is so flushed—you must be quite ill. Yu the overseer even said you seemed unwell."
So Yu the overseer had already come and reported it.
I'd expected as much.
He had a duty to report precisely on the heirs training in the Finance Hall.
But I hadn't thought it'd be this quick.
"I should have come to your room myself. I'm sorry."
"No, Father."
"You've been having these little ailments more often lately—it's worrying."
His voice and eyes brimmed with concern.
I bit my lip, afraid tears would spill if I stayed like that.
"Is the work too burdensome, or are you feeling off? If so, we could delay your practical training a bit."
That was why he'd called me, I realized.
Heir apparents had to undergo five years of practical training starting at fifteen.
The first three years were spent learning the flow of money in the Finance Hall.
Then one year overseeing the group's overall operations in the World Prosperity Hall.
The final year involved hands-on work selecting and selling goods in the Commerce Flow Hall, after which they officially qualified as vice-lord heirs.
Skipping the training wasn't an option.
That's why Father hadn't suggested it.
And I didn't want to either.
Besides, with the incident coming soon to the Finance Hall—and to prevent it—I needed to start training right away.
I steadied my emotions and replied as calmly as I could.
"No, Father. I'll start the practicals without delay tomorrow."
"Are you sure you're alright? You're not pushing yourself just because of the pressure of being one of the heirs, are you?"
I sighed inwardly at the question.
His worried expression hurt my heart.
I pondered for a moment,
searching for a way to ease his concerns while still advancing my plans.
'...A few days' rest should be fine.'
After calculating in my head, I spoke cautiously.
"Then, Father, could I rest for five days? I'll recover in that time."
Only then did relief wash over his face.
"Good thinking. I'll tell Yu the overseer, so go ahead and do that."
"Yes, Father. I'm sorry to worry you."
"I should have Baek the physician brew you some medicinal tonic."
Medicinal tonic.
I nearly sighed without thinking.
Because those tonics had nearly killed me in my previous life.
No more tonics—that was too dangerous.
"I'm sorry, Father, but I just had some not long ago. Even good medicine can turn poisonous if overdone, don't you think? I'll just rest up in my room."
"Alright, then. Do that."
Back in my room, I lay on the bed and sighed.
'Whew! Out of breath after just a short walk?'
How could I grow the merchant group and exact revenge with a body like this?
I needed to heal it—and fast.
Truth be told, my poor health wasn't from any ordinary illness.
I recalled a moment from my future life, when I'd just taken over the Eunhae Fabric Shop.
Right after turning twenty.
A young lady came to sell silk she'd woven herself.
It wasn't unusual—women often sold handmade cloth for extra income.
But her silk was extraordinary.
I'd never seen such fine quality.
I paid her generously for it.
About three times the going rate for regular silk.
She questioned it, but I told her,
"A merchant buys good goods at fair prices and sells them at a markup to those who need them. Buying good goods cheap is just scamming."
That was my creed—no true merchant lasted long otherwise. I had no desire to haggle down quality.
Our connection continued, and we called her the Bamboo Grove Weaver at the shop.
She lived near the local bamboo forest.
I took care to look after her family discreetly.
Our ancestors had always taught to value people above all, and I believed the same.
Thanks to her silk, the shop grew rapidly.
Word spread among the wealthy locals.
And since I priced her fine silk fairly high, other high-quality weavers started seeking us out.
I didn't stop there.
I had luxury items made from that silk—things the rich would love—and sold them at huge markups.
And in the end, meeting the Bamboo Grove Weaver even saved my life.
It was winter, when I was twenty-three.
A middle-aged man came to see me.
He was one of the Five Great Physicians: the Black Flute Immortal Healer.
So named for the black flute he always carried.
He wandered freely, unaffiliated with any faction, white or black.
I welcomed him warmly.
My illness was worsening, and I'd been searching for a good doctor.
For him to come to me...
Right there, he said bluntly,
"I heard about you from my daughter."
"Pardon?"
I tilted my head at the Black Flute Immortal Healer's sudden words.
"The wife of the Kwak family in Bamboo Valley. I'm her father."
"Ah..."
The wife of the Kwak family in Bamboo Valley—the Bamboo Grove Weaver.
He narrowed his eyes.
"Did you know she was my daughter and approach her on purpose?"
"No, I didn't know."
I truly hadn't.
If I had, I'd have sought her out sooner.
"Then why pay such a premium for her silk and look after her family so carefully?"
"No special reason. I just valued her talent."
"Valued her talent?"
"Yes. That's our family motto. Small merchants chase quick coin, but great merchants see the lasting profits beyond the people. I believe that too."
He stared at me silently.
After locking eyes for a long moment, he chuckled softly.
"You're sincere. No wonder she asked me."
"Pardon?"
"My daughter begged me. Said a good man like you must be saved. No one had ever cared for her family like that. She wanted to repay the favor."
His words left me embarrassed and awkward.
I'd only done it for my own gain, yet here she saw it as a kindness.
"Well, whatever the reason, it doesn't matter. I left her at a friend's house when she needed her father most and wandered like the wind... It's late, but time to act like one now."
He extended his hand.
"Give me your wrist."
I offered it almost trance-like, and he began taking my pulse.
After about fifteen minutes of examination, his expression shifted.
Like he'd found something intriguing.
He released my wrist and said,
"A man born with the Mystic Dragon Star Physique, yet without water in that body—it's only natural it'd wither and die."
"Pardon? Mystic Dragon Star Physique? What's that?"
"The Mystic Dragon governs water essence. It's a constitution usually seen in women with strong yin energy. Those born with it tend to have exceptional intellect."
"You mean... because I'm a man?"
"Exactly. First time I've seen a man with it."
"Ah..."
"Symptoms probably started around twelve."
"...Yes."
"As your masculine identity strengthened, your yang energy grew. At this rate, you won't last five more years."
"W-what do you mean?"
The Black Flute Immortal Healer nodded gravely at my shock.
"Yes. You'll die within five years."
I went blank.
I'd thought it was just an illness, but a constitutional issue? It was absurd.
And only five years left!
It hit like a bolt from the blue.
I asked desperately,
"How can I live, elder? I want to live! I don't want to suffer anymore."
I couldn't die like this.
I didn't want to see my family grieve as they desperately tried to treat me.
To me, he said,
"Heh, didn't I say my daughter begged me? To save you. And that's why I'm here."