TSBIRBV Ch 18

Chapter 18 Grand Ambition (2)

“You should have woken me if you were here!”

Upon waking in the morning, Yegyeol immediately voiced his dissatisfaction. He had intended to get up the moment he sensed Haryang’s presence, but perhaps because his condition was still poor, he hadn’t noticed at all.

If Haryang had touched his face or held his hand, the guiding effect alone would have been enough to wake him instantly—but it seemed he had simply stood there, quietly watching him sleep, and left.

“You were sleeping well. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“I told Jinyoung that I was going to bed early so I could wait for you—didn’t he pass on the message?”

“He is my subordinate; naturally, he obeys me.”

Haryang, who had personally peeled some fruit, started to place it on the plate in front of Yegyeol, but paused when he saw his disciple sitting there with his mouth slightly open.

“…Were you asking me to feed you?”

“Oh.”

Yegyeol blinked, feigning embarrassment.

“I just… I thought you were going to. Sorry.”

“It’s nothing. It’s no trouble at all.”

Waving away the apology, Haryang brought the juicy piece toward Yegyeol’s lips. It was sweet at first, with a tart finish—unlike anything he had ever tasted in Korea.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s… unique.”

“It’s a fruit that only grows on islands across the sea. If you want, I can have the next ship loaded with them.”

Haryang spoke as if it were nothing, but Yegyeol’s eyelids fluttered slightly—he knew well how rare ocean-going ships were in this age.

What do I do? He had returned to the Central Plains with nothing to his name—there was nothing he could give his guide in return.

According to an unofficial manual on how espers could win over their guides, the first rule was: “Use your wealth to solve their problems.”

But for someone like Yegyeol—who in Korea had lived surrounded by S-rank espers who thought nothing of gifting their guides an entire building—this was a problem.

If this were Korea, it’d be different…

As an S-rank esper, he could ride a Maserati on Monday, a Bugatti Veyron on Tuesday, a Rolls-Royce on Wednesday… never once worrying about his bank account.

Now? He was basically freeloading off his Senior Brother.

Well… now that I have Baembeam, maybe I can at least make my way as a rover.

Lost in thought, he licked away the drop of juice that had run down his chin and onto his finger—only for Haryang to speak suddenly.

“It’s about time we decided where you’ll be staying.”

At that, Yegyeol straightened his posture.

“You said you wanted to help with the merchant guild’s business, correct?”

“Yes.”

Once he gave his brief confirmation, Haryang made his announcement as if he had been waiting for it.

“From now on, you are the head of the Qinghai Trading Company.”

Yegyeol, who wasn’t even married yet, was momentarily thrown off by Haryang’s grand generosity—as if handing over a dowry.

“The… trading company? To me?”

How could he dump something so major onto someone who barely understood it?

Does Senior Brother have no intention of even pretending to hide that he’s not just some merchant anymore?

“I really only meant I wanted to do odd jobs…”

It wasn’t false modesty—he meant it. If he ran the company into the ground, whose fault would that be?

“And can the position of ‘Guild Master’ really be given away this easily?”

“The Guild Master of Qinghai doesn’t handle outside business directly—he assigns it to a few trusted aides, while keeping his face hidden.”

“That’s… unusual.”

“There are enough eccentrics in the trade world that no one finds it strange.”

Yegyeol hunched his shoulders.

“I don’t think I can do it well. What if I end up tarnishing something you’ve worked so hard to build?”

“What you need to learn isn’t the merchant trade—it’s how to choose capable subordinates.”

Haryang jerked his chin toward the shadow of a pillar.

“Samrang.”

A figure silently emerged from behind it. Yegyeol, who had known someone was there, pretended to be startled.

“It’s been a while. I’m Samrang of Qinghai.”

Her voice wasn’t soft so much as slow and unhurried. Yegyeol immediately recognized her.

“You were the physician who examined me when I first woke, weren’t you? My thanks for that.”

“Think nothing of it. It was quite enjoyable—helped me discover a new… possibility.”

Her eyes gleamed, as if recalling how much acupuncture she’d performed. She radiated such ease that she seemed never to have known nervousness in her life—yet she had the ability to make others uneasy.

“Samrang will be assisting you.”

“I’ll support you with all sincerity.”

Expecting Haryang to assign Jinyoung, Yegyeol found Samrang’s appearance unexpected.

“Baembeam will protect me.”

“Baembeam…”

Samrang trailed off. Having instantly recognized the Millennium Thunder-Horned Python, she found the nickname shocking. Even more so that such a proud spiritual creature obediently responded to it.

“A spiritual beast like Baembeam will protect you well. But it won’t understand human methods as Samrang does.”

Samrang, impressed by her lord’s ability to say “Baembeam” without losing his dignity, clicked her tongue lightly.

“In that case… I’ll learn a thing or two from Samrang.”

“Just omit the honorifics. I prefer a clearly defined hierarchy.”

“I’ll be counting on you, Samrang.”

She returned his polite smile, then vanished once more into the shadow behind the pillar. The sound of her small breaths really did fade—she was gone this time.

Haryang slid the plate of prepared fruit toward Yegyeol.

“Now, Master of Qinghai Trading Company, finish this before you go to work.”

The deliberately respectful jondaetmal (formal speech) made Yegyeol flinch. There was something about Haryang’s politeness that stirred a hunger even Yegyeol didn’t know he had.

“Senior Brother…”

The man, now fully composed again, smiled lazily as he brought the fruit to Yegyeol’s lips.

“Go on.”

Only after filling his stomach with fruit could Yegyeol finally rise from his seat.

To learn the guild master’s key duties, Yegyeol went to see Jinyoung—who was somehow managing both mentoring him and taking care of other work simultaneously, like a superhuman.

“Why did he assign me to Samrang instead of you?”

At that, Jinyoung set aside the ledger he had been reading and replied:

“First off, I’m an irreplaceably capable aide to my lord. Reliable as well—he doesn’t assign me to just anything.”

The shameless self-praise was so blatant that Yegyeol clicked his tongue. He could almost see Jinyoung’s shoulders artificially broadening, like someone wearing exaggerated power-padded suits. Regardless, Jinyoung went on.

“Samrang is someone who doesn’t care about using any means necessary. I expect the lord thought she was the most suitable kind of person to protect you, Master Wen.”

“Is the merchant trade really so dangerous?”

“If you go through the cut-throat struggles between competing guilds, you’ll understand.”

Jinyoung chuckled darkly. Yegyeol could already guess who would be the likely victor of such struggles.

“But why even bother asking me this?”

“I figured you’d complain about it… and still explain it in the most detail.”

“My lord would happily tell you, in a kinder way.”

“That’s because he just…”

Yegyeol stopped himself mid-sentence.

Really, wasn’t it human nature to want to act like you know everything in front of the person you’re interested in, rather than admit ignorance?

“Somehow… I feel like I shouldn’t ask any more questions.”

Before he could deflect, Jinyoung muttered that—leaving Yegyeol with the unpleasant sense of being rejected before he even began.

“How cold.”

Though he never meant to explain, Yegyeol grumbled.

“In any case, a guild master’s job depends on the nature of the guild. In Qinghai’s case, we link Xinjiang with other regions.”

So it was a middleman trading company?

Yegyeol nodded, interpreting it in his own way.

“By nature, our work is closely tied to security escorts. You can either deal long-term with a trustworthy escort agency, or pit several against each other in competitive bidding. Choose whichever you prefer.”

“I’d like to see the ledgers of the escort agencies we’ve dealt with so far.”

Jinyoung’s eyes lit up. If someone was completely clueless, the next best thing was to see how things had been handled previously.

Seeing that his “student” was picking things up before he even started teaching, Jinyoung felt like an excellent instructor and brought the ledgers over.

“Show me how to read these, too.”

Smiling, Yegyeol shamelessly put him to work.

Their “lesson” continued until nightfall.

When Haryang came by, ostensibly to call them for dinner, he found Jinyoung drained to the bone—while Yegyeol looked radiant, as if he had absorbed his life energy.

“So you enjoyed the lesson.”

“I hope I didn’t tire my teacher out too much—I can be a relentless student.”

“Jinyoung is capable enough not to be worn out by this much.”

This carrot disguised as a stick made Jinyoung grit his teeth, forcing himself to rise and pick up a brush, his hand trembling.

Yegyeol’s eyes gleamed at his zombie-like state. They did say that those in high places needed to know how to handle their subordinates well—clearly, Haryang was experienced.

“Still, remember your health. Take it easy.”

“I’m fine, my lord. I already asked for dinner to be sent here, so please don’t worry about me.”

Watching him try to maintain composure with his hair mussed, Yegyeol bent politely at the waist.

“I learned a lot today. I’ll continue to count on you.”

Somewhat surprised at the courtesy, Jinyoung’s eyes widened slightly before he gave a faint smile.

“That’s thanks to having a good student.”

Hearing what was almost a self-effacing remark from him for the first time, Yegyeol snorted. It almost felt like a teacher praising a pupil in front of a parent.

Walking beside Haryang, Yegyeol tugged lightly at his sleeve. Without knowing what he intended, his Senior Brother reflexively bent closer.

Yegyeol whispered his grand ambition into his ear.

“I’ll make a lot of money and buy you a new ship.”

Goodbye Maserati. Farewell Bugatti Veyron, Rolls-Royce, Ferrari, Lamborghini—all of you, goodbye.

Supercars were out of the question in the Central Plains, and finding a steed better than Jeokroe was impossible—so he would get his Senior Brother a brand-new ship instead.

If an esper could draw their blade—well, their Baembeam—then surely they could bring back at least a ship.

Originally intending to earn money as a rover, he had now inherited an entire trading company—this much, he could manage.

“A new ship?”

Haryang sounded faintly surprised.

“Yes. And I’ll load it full of the fruit you gave me from across the sea.”

The words Haryang had spoken to him earlier that day now returned to him, intact.

Straightening slowly, Haryang looked down at Yegyeol’s brown hair.

Whenever he looked at his disciple, he felt his heart swell no matter how hard he tried to stay calm. Yegyeol hadn’t done anything for him yet—and just those words alone filled him with joy.

It was an unfamiliar feeling.

Is this what it feels like to raise a child you didn’t give birth to?

Completely unfazed by the thought—one that would have made Yegyeol scream had he known—Haryang took his hand.

“I’ll look forward to it.”

The next day, reporting for work to the room he had decided would be his office, Yegyeol put brush to paper in a single, sweeping stroke.

Pasting the sheet to the wall behind him brought to mind the motivational slogans hung above the blackboard in his high school days.

Stepping back a few paces, he admired his work.

“Aim: One of the Three Great Trading Guilds of the Central Plains.”

notes:

• Jondaetmal (존댓말) — polite/formal speech in Korean; here, Haryang uses it in a teasingly respectful way.
• One of the Three Great Trading Guilds of the Central Plains — an ambitious commercial benchmark in the martial-arts world, equivalent to becoming part of an elite top-three business group.