The Outcome of the Outing (3)
I asked just in case.
"Hearing the Chief Steward's poem makes the scenery seem even more beautiful. Could I hear a few more?"
Perhaps emboldened by the alcohol, Chief Steward Yu didn't refuse.
"Then I'll recite one more."
Caught up in the mood, Chief Steward Yu didn't stop at just one—he recited several poems in a row.
And they were all poems I knew.
To be precise, they were the ones that bastard Chui Il-gong had brazenly claimed as his own in his poetry collection.
There were about fifty poems in that collection.
Among them were the ones that had received rave reviews from the critics at the time.
And those acclaimed poems were exactly the ones Chief Steward Yu had just recited.
So...
That fucker Chui Il-gong was a total con artist.
He'd stolen our Chief Steward Yu's poems and passed them off as his own?
I turned to Chief Steward Yu, who was sipping his drink, and asked,
"To think you've been keeping such wonderful poetry all to yourself! That's too much."
"Hahaha. You're gilding these trifling lines! I'm embarrassed."
"Why have you been hiding such great talent?"
"Well..."
Chief Steward Yu let out a sigh.
"I never had time to compose poetry."
Ah...
"And whenever I try to write, old memories come flooding back. You must know I served in the court before retiring to the countryside."
I nodded.
"Part of the reason I buried myself in work was to forget those days."
Only then did I understand why he'd been so obsessed with work.
"I feel like I've troubled you by greedily asking for more poems."
He waved it off at my words.
"No, not at all. Reciting poetry after so long feels good. Truth be told, it's my one and only hobby."
He seemed genuinely pleased, flashing a real smile from the heart—not the drunken grin.
"I actually wanted to become famous for my poetry. But Senior Chui told me I had no talent for it and to quit. Said it was perfect material for public humiliation..."
That asshole...
"Then life threw one storm after another at me, making me question if this was the right path. That's when I crossed paths with the Group Leader and ended up working for the merchant group."
My mind started racing furiously.
I hadn't known back then, but now that I realized these were Chief Steward Yu's poems, I couldn't let a fake steal the fame.
Especially after he'd even encouraged him to give up his dream!
What a real scumbag.
Dealing with that guy could wait, but publishing a collection under Chief Steward Yu's name needed to happen fast.
If Chui Il-gong published a collection later claiming these as his own, Chief Steward Yu might die of frustration.
I had to stop that.
"Something just occurred to me after hearing your story—what if we published a poetry collection?"
"A poetry collection?"
"Yes."
I nodded.
"We're out here together on this outing. Leaving a memento seems fitting."
"A collection... I see. Not a bad idea."
Chief Steward Yu hesitated for a moment.
"But my poems aren't anything to boast about."
"Did you recite them to boast?"
"Well... no."
"Then what's the problem? I liked hearing them, and you enjoyed reciting them—that makes them good."
He readily nodded at my words.
"True enough. Poetry expresses the heart in the moment, after all."
"Then recite away. I'll write them down."
"Very well, if you insist."
And so our outing, unlike how it started, ended in a warm, harmonious mood.
Father's errand was accomplished.
Now, time to publish the collection.
Of course, I hadn't gotten Chief Steward Yu's permission for that. He'd agreed to making one, but he'd refuse actual publication.
That would let the thief steal these beautiful poems—I couldn't allow it.
Well, he'll understand once he sees the results.
A few days passed after the outing.
Chief Steward Yu was in his office at the capital branch.
"Hmm..."
Puzzling over some headache-inducing paperwork, lunchtime snuck up on him.
He stood from his seat.
Before, he used to ignore whether the clerks ate lunch or not.
But the outing with Eun Seo-ho had taught him otherwise.
He said to them,
"It's mealtime."
"Yes, sir."
As he left the office, he added,
"Enjoy your meals."
"Ah... yes, sir."
"You too, Chief Steward—bon appétit."
They'd been startled at first, but now they'd adapted.
"Somehow the atmosphere feels softer now," one clerk remarked with a smile as he returned from lunch.
"Uh, Chief Steward. Congratulations on the poetry collection."
"...Poetry collection?"
"You published one, right? I was shocked when I saw the report. How can every poem be so beautiful!"
"...What poetry collection?"
"Huh? Didn't you? It clearly says 'Yu So-ak, Capital Branch Chief of Eunhae Merchant Group' as the author."
Yu So-ak replied with a flustered expression.
"I've never published any such collection."
Just to be sure, he asked the clerk,
"Could I see that collection, by chance?"
"Oh, yes."
The clerk quickly fetched the one he'd bought, and Yu So-ak examined it.
Soak Poetry Collection
(小岳詩文集)
"..."
They were genuinely his poems.
The very ones he'd composed tipsy during the outing.
And only one person could have done this.
"Young Master..."
Yu So-ak clutched his head.
He asked the clerk,
"How well are these poems selling?"
The clerk beamed proudly.
"They're already selling like hotcakes across the Central Plains."
"..."
I was having lunch in my quarters.
Palgap stood by my side, looking worried.
"Young Master, what were you thinking, publishing Chief Steward Yu's collection behind his back?"
"What?"
"Publishing his collection without telling him!"
"Oh, that? It's fine. Totally fine."
"It's not fine!"
Palgap jumped at my nonchalant response.
"As you know, Chief Steward Yu holds grudges and isn't the nicest..."
That's when my senses picked up someone approaching.
"Shh!"
"Pardon?"
"Speak of the tiger..."
Palgap freaked out and waved his hands.
"Hide, quick! I'll block him."
I shook my head.
"Too late. Besides, I have to work in his office anyway."
"Ah..."
Chief Steward Yu's voice came from outside.
"Young Master Eun Seo-ho, I hear you're inside. May I have a word?"
Exactly the reaction I'd expected.
So I took a sip of tea and stood casually.
"Yes? You called for me?"
"What in the world is this?"
He held a book in his hand—the poetry collection published under his name.
"Ah! Congratulations!"
"I'm asking what this is about!"
His voice rose.
But I stayed calm, smiling.
"You still haven't given up on becoming famous for your poetry, have you?"
He trailed off, at a loss for words.
"Well..."
"Sorry, but I figured unless I did this, it'd remain a lifelong dream."
"You should have at least asked."
"Would you have let me publish it if I had?"
"..."
I smiled.
"Besides, it's done now. Accept reality. It's not like it's a blemish—what's there to worry about?"
"That's exactly what I'm worried about."
He sighed.
"My work is too embarrassing to show the world."
That Chui Il-gong bastard is the real problem.
I'll deal with him later for sure.
How much did he belittle the man to shatter his confidence like this?
"Not at all. I've never heard poems as beautiful as yours. People will love them—I guarantee it."
Time flew by.
Leaning back in his chair for a break, Chief Steward Yu gazed outside and sighed.
'May is almost here.'
The outing with Eun Seo-ho had been early April—half a month already.
His eyes fell on the book on his desk.
Soak Poetry Collection
(小岳詩文集)
'If you're going to name it, at least make it cool—not this plain "Soak Poetry Collection"...'
He was ashamed and embarrassed that his poems were out in the world.
His senior's words from his court days echoed relentlessly.
"You've no talent for poetry. Better stick to burying yourself in classics—that's more promising. And never recite in front of others. It's prime humiliation material. This is advice from your senior—heed it."
He hadn't recited since.
But as Eun Seo-ho said, the aspiration hadn't fully died.
Deep in his heart, it burned hotter than a forge.
Eun Seo-ho had made him realize that.
He'd always loved poetry, after all.
Anyway, he'd planned to recall every copy.
Aspiration was one thing; shame was another.
But it was impossible.
Eun Seo-ho hadn't limited sales to Hubei—he'd distributed across the Central Plains.
The kid was thorough, whoever taught him.
He glanced at Eun Seo-ho working beside him.
Sensing the look, the young man turned.
"Yes? Need something?"
"Nothing."
The collection was word-of-mouth gold, selling brilliantly as the clerk had said.
And lately, everyone he met praised his poems.
It made him think something was off.
Unless the whole Central Plains was lying to him, he must have real talent.
Then why had Senior Chui given that advice...?
He was confused.
'No way Senior did it on purpose...'
A guard's voice came from outside.
"Deputy Chief, Miss Jo Yeong-yeong is here."
"Ah, send her in."
The door opened, and Deputy Jo Yeong-yeong entered.
"A guest has arrived. Wishes to see you and the young master."
"Got it. The young master too?"
"Yes."
She nodded.
"He's the co-author of the Soak Poetry Collection. And congratulations on the publication, Chief Steward."
"Ah, thank you."
I'd guessed as much when they mentioned the Soak Poetry Collection and included me as co-author.
The visitor must have been moved by the poems and come calling.
How could they not be?
Even an unemotional guy like me was touched, and these would become hugely famous in the future.
But the guest turned out to be a shocker even for me.
"Someone from the Jegal clan."
"..."
I was stunned at Father's introduction.
A glance sideways showed Chief Steward Yu equally flustered.
I quickly composed myself, cupped my hands in greeting, and he followed suit.
The man from the Jegal clan spoke expressionlessly.
"I was ordered to deliver this directly. Thus, I've brought you here."
"It's fine."
"For confirmation: Are you Yu So-ak, author of the Soak Poetry Collection?"
"Yes. That's me."
He turned to me.
"And you are Eun Seo-ho, the co-author?"
"Yes. Correct."
I'd listed myself as co-author to make publishing easier without the real author's consent.
He pulled a scroll from his robe and handed it over; Chief Steward Yu accepted it.
He unrolled it slowly and read.
I peeked too—and couldn't help exclaiming in shock.
"What? An invitation from the Jegal clan?"
We eagerly await your acceptance.
"I don't know the details. Just that they await your reply."