Chapter 11

An investment of four thousand taels of silver—no small sum by any measure.

Disbelief washed over Chu Yong-wol’s face.

“Four thousand taels of silver…”

Chu Yong-wol raised her teacup and took a slow sip.

“The tea is truly delightful, Young Master.”

Yang-hwi offered a quiet chuckle at her reaction.

The reason behind her abrupt praise of the tea was obvious.

Judging by the modest brew served to a guest, she was subtly hinting that Baek Manor’s coffers could hardly be overflowing.

‘Well, Baek Manor certainly looks impoverished on the outside.’

Though the estate was vast, handed down through generations of ancestors, a dire lack of funds meant nearly everything beyond the bare essentials of living quarters had fallen into neglect.

From the outside, several pavilions looked practically abandoned.

And yet.

“Here is the advance.”

Yang-hwi pulled a chest laden with gold from beneath the bed and set it before her.

“Worth two thousand taels of silver.”

“…”

While Chu Yong-wol stood frozen in stunned silence, gaping at the sight of an eight-year-old child producing a fortune so nonchalantly,

Yang-hwi pressed on.

“At any rate, from this point forward, we should discuss matters in the presence of our Clan Head.”

He summoned a maid to deliver word to Baek Mu-ryang. Yet when Baek Mu-ryang arrived shortly after, he was not alone.

“Hwi, would it be alright if your mother joined the conversation as well?”

“Of course. If anything, I was about to ask you to join us.”

Jeong In-hwa was the only daughter of a renowned scholar who had retired to the countryside.

While martial matters might be foreign to her, when it came to scholarship and literature, no one in Baek Manor possessed a sharper mind or deeper insight.

“Father, I was thinking of investing four thousand taels of our surplus funds into Young Lady Chu’s Baekseo Antique Bookstore. What are your thoughts?”

“Hmm. As much as four thousand taels?”

“Yes.”

“I was just pondering what to do with that sum…”

It was the plunder taken from the Cheongsa Gang’s Secret Hideout. With the Cheongsa Gang’s watchful eyes everywhere, circulating that money within E’an County risked inviting trouble.

At times like this, channeling the funds into an investment far away was the wisest course.

Better still if that venture had a promising future.

In that respect, the Baekseo Antique Bookstore in Nanchang was an ideal target.

“Hmm. What do you think, wife?”

“Having read what Hwi wrote, I believe it is more than worthy of our investment.”

“Is that so? Still, in business matters, the judgment of someone with merchant sense carries greater weight. I would like to hear Young Lady Chu’s thoughts.”

“This humble one also believes that Young Master Hwi’s work will elevate our Baekseo Antique Bookstore to unprecedented heights.”

“Is that so? Then we shall invest.”

“Pardon?”

Confusion washed over Chu Yong-wol’s face.

“I am deeply grateful for your trust, but…”

“What is the matter, Young Lady?”

“Even under the guise of an investment, you are entrusting a fortune to someone you have only just met. It seems you have reached a decision rather quickly…”

Chu Yong-wol hesitated for a moment before continuing.

“It feels awkward to say this in front of the young master, but after all, this is a child’s decision, is it not?”

In truth, four thousand taels of silver was far too immense a sum to wager on the say-so of a young boy.

And yet.

Baek Mu-ryang and Jeong In-hwa replied in unison.

“It is because Hwi is the one who set it in motion.”

“If it is Hwi’s choice, we have no reason to doubt it.”

Husband and wife of one mind—the two exchanged a knowing smile after uttering their thoughts in perfect harmony.

Watching them, a warm sense of satisfaction spread across Yang-hwi’s face.

‘The trust I spent this past month building is finally bearing fruit.’

It was no exaggeration to say that Yang-hwi had firmly established his standing within the Baek Clan.

How could he not? On his very first day at Baek Manor, he had turned away the thuggish Honggyo Gang with nothing more than his three-inch tongue.

That alone was freakishly impressive for an eight-year-old boy, but on the very next day, he had raided the Cheongsa Gang’s Secret Hideout and secured a massive haul of five thousand taels.

On top of that, he had grasped the essence of the Sky-Covering Sword Technique and the Harmonious Six-Combinations Art—the true martial heritage of Baek Manor—on his very first day, shallow though his mastery might be.

Before anyone realized it, a quiet consensus had settled over Baek Manor: whatever the eldest young master, Baek Yang-hwi, decided to do, it was best to simply trust him and watch.

“Hwi. Your father trusts your judgment. If you are certain, you may invest the full amount. However… I hear you agreed to take a forty percent cut of the profits?”

“That is correct.”

Baek Mu-ryang turned his gaze toward Chu Yong-wol.

The gentle smile of a father vanished, replaced by the imposing gravity of a Clan Head.

“Young Lady Chu. My wife is the daughter of an esteemed scholar. As such, I am quite familiar with an author’s typical share when publishing a book.”

Sensing an opportunity to secure her advantage, Chu Yong-wol bowed her head with a courteous smile.

“It is typically ten percent. I hope you will view this as Baekseo Antique Bookstore’s heartfelt praise and admiration for Young Master Hwi’s literary genius. I shall draft the contract at forty percent, then.”

Baek Mu-ryang cut her off without hesitation.

“Now, now, that is not what I meant. I am well aware that even an annotated transcription commands a ten percent share, yet you offer forty. Hmmm.”

In that instant, Chu Yong-wol realized Baek Mu-ryang had brought up the forty percent share not to offer thanks, but for something else entirely.

Yet it was already too late.

“Ten percent goes to the author. Thirty percent covers the baseline cost of producing the books. And sixty percent belongs to the merchant who finances production and handles sales. That is the standard breakdown, is it not, Hwa-mae?”

Jeong In-hwa smiled softly.

“You have it exactly right, husband.”

“With your share set at sixty percent, you would be taking the usual profit while pretending to honor his talent.”

As a rule, scholars and literati neither knew nor cared to know the gritty financial details of publishing.

Even knowing a scholar’s daughter sat before her, Chu Yong-wol had never anticipated that either of them would be versed in the precise profit margins of the trade.

‘And besides, that is not even how it works!’

“Clan Head, what you just cited covers total costs, not net prof—”

Once again, Baek Mu-ryang cut her off.

“Costs. Indeed, costs. And our Baek Clan is putting up a staggering four thousand taels to cover those very production costs. Yet we receive a mere forty percent? Hmm, forty percent…”

Only then did Chu Yong-wol understand what Baek Mu-ryang was after.

“…I offer my humble apologies to the Clan Head of the Baek Clan. You showed tremendous goodwill by offering such an immense investment, yet as a merchant’s daughter, I failed to demonstrate the proper sincerity.”

If an investor assumed both the costs and the risks, the division of profits naturally had to be renegotiated.

Chu Yong-wol had tried to frame her offer as a grand concession to win favor and lock in the forty percent rate, but Baek Mu-ryang had seen right through her ploy.

“I understand. The merchant’s way is to seek profit, after all.”

Baek Mu-ryang offered a mild smile. Chu Yong-wol bowed respectfully.

“I thank you for your forbearance.”

“Then, Young Lady Chu, what ratio would you propose?”

“…”

Chu Yong-wol swallowed hard, her voice trembling slightly.

“Fifty percent… no, sixty percent.”

“Let us settle on seventy.”

“…”

“Even if it were eighty, I doubt any merchant of my acquaintance would turn it down.”

Baek Mu-ryang was subtly hinting that he had connections of his own in the commercial world.

Chu Yong-wol had no room left to negotiate.

Four thousand taels of silver was an enormous sum—one that would cover every expense she had ever anticipated and leave plenty to spare.

In truth, it meant Baekseo Antique Bookstore could embark on this bold new venture entirely free of financial risk.

“I am grateful for your generosity. Seventy percent it shall be.”

“Very well, Young Lady Chu. Let us draw up the contract.”

Yang-hwi looked at Baek Mu-ryang, his eyes full of admiration.

‘As expected, Father is Father.’

Yang-hwi had already considered making an investment proposal to adjust the profit margin.

Yet he never could have pried away a seventy percent share while radiating such magnanimity and consideration for the other party.

That simply was not in his nature.

‘Had I brought Father in from the very beginning, we might have secured an even greater bargain.’

* * *

After finalizing the contract, Chu Yong-wol took her leave of Baek Manor.

Baek Mu-ryang called Yang-hwi aside.

“Yang-hwi. Will you share a cup of tea with me?”

“I would gladly accept, Father.”

Baek Mu-ryang summoned a maid and ordered her to bring tea.

Before long, father and son sat side by side, sipping their tea in silence.

“Tea embodies the art of patience. Drink too hastily, and you will only scald your tongue.”

“I will etch your words into my heart and remain ever mindful.”

Understanding the deeper meaning behind the metaphor, Yang-hwi simply bowed his head.

Watching him, Baek Mu-ryang let out a soft sigh.

“…Hwi.”

“Yes, Father.”

“I took you in as my son believing it was destiny. Yet you have already accomplished several things that even I could never manage. Do you know? Forging a bond between our clan and a merchant house was one of my fondest, most cherished ambitions.”

Yang-hwi knew. His father had always yearned to establish a reliable stream of revenue for the clan.

Perhaps the practiced ease with which he had handled Chu Yong-wol was the fruit of picturing this very moment countless times in his mind.

“I will ensure that this contract with the Baekseo Antique Bookstore brings enduring prosperity to our clan.”

“Yes, I believe you will. It has only been a month since we became father and son, yet my faith in you borders on the unnatural. And yet…”

Taking a sip of tea to collect his thoughts, Baek Mu-ryang continued.

“Hwi. You are a peerless talent, a true genius. Though I am older, I am merely a man of ordinary talent, and your thoughts must differ from mine in many ways. But an elder has an elder’s role to play. I see an impatience in you.”

“…”

Yang-hwi fell silent. Baek Mu-ryang’s words had struck straight to the heart of the matter.

‘Was it that obvious?’

It was true; Yang-hwi had been rushing.

To anyone watching his feats thus far, he must have appeared as an outright monster blessed with peerless martial prowess, literary brilliance, and commercial cunning.

Yet his urgency stemmed solely from the sheer height of his ambition.

‘The greatest clan under heaven. Even with thirty years restored to me, it is a summit difficult to reach in a single lifetime.’

What was more… as the Baek Clan grew, the Namgung Clan would inevitably view them as a threat.

He had to move swiftly to lay every foundation and clear away every obstacle before his time ran out.

“There is a saying: Gihojise—riding the back of a tiger. Hwi, you act as though becoming my son were like straddling a tiger you cannot dismount.”

“That is not so, Father. I have never once treated becoming a member of the Baek Clan as a mere opportunity.”

“I know. Yet I must ask. With talent like yours, you would have shone brightly whenever and wherever you went. Why were you living as a beggar?”

It was true. Even putting aside the miracle of turning back time, Yang-hwi had already been aware of his own brilliance at this age in his past life.

Yet the reason he had persisted in living as a beggar was simple.

“Because I had no reason to live.”

In his past life, to a beggar boy who merely existed because he happened to be born, his father and the Baek Clan had become something more.

His reason to live.

They were the ones who made him wish to live.

“Of all the debts of gratitude in this world, is not Gumyeongjieun—the grace of saving a life—the greatest? Father, you bestowed that very grace upon me.”

“And so you strive so desperately to repay it?”

“That is correct.”

“Then to your mind, the bond between father and son is merely a relationship where receiving grace means you must repay it.”

“That is…”

For the first time since his regression, Yang-hwi found himself utterly at a loss for words.

“Yang-hwi of the Baek Clan. This is the first admonishment an ordinary father offers his brilliant son: etch the principle of Sushinjega deeply into your heart.”

“…”

Enveloped in silence, Yang-hwi replayed their conversation in his mind.

His father had begun with praise for his talent, cautioned against his haste, and closed by imparting the wisdom of the Great Learning: cultivate oneself first, and regulate the family.

The underlying truth of that sequence clicked into place.

‘Yes. The reason I aspire to make this the greatest clan under heaven…’

He had believed it was his father’s dream, and the surest path to bring happiness to those he held dear.

It was because he truly viewed the Baek Clan as his home, Baek Mu-ryang as his father, Jeong In-hwa as his mother, and Baek Heon-so and Baek Yeon-yeon as his brother and sister.

Yet if his family could not see him as true kin…

If he lost sight of that very foundation, then the grandest goal would become entirely meaningless.

‘Father truly is… a father. Even though I lived past his current age in my previous life, he still has wisdom to impart to me.’

Drink too fast, and one can choke even on plain water.

Though he possessed the soul of a Super-Peak Realm master in his late thirties, the body he inhabited was still that of a child—and this youth was his chance to undo the regrets of his past.

Move swiftly, but never with reckless haste.

Yes. Just as the family’s art dictated: Sky-Covering—swift, yet resolute and steadfast.

“I shall engrave your words upon my heart and never forget them. Thank you for your teaching, Father.”

“Good. See that you do.”

A look of deep satisfaction softened Baek Mu-ryang’s features.

Though it seemed his son had arrived at an epiphany quite different from what he had originally intended to teach, it hardly mattered.

What mattered was the undeniable truth that they now saw one another as father and son.

And then.

The very next day, a man who cherished family in a manner entirely different from Yang-hwi or Baek Mu-ryang arrived at Baek Manor.

“Young Brother So, didn’t we have unfinished business between us? I haven’t heard a word from you in over a month, so I came to find you myself.”