Return of the Mount Hua

I’m back. (3)

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“And thus…….”

Hwang Jong-ui let out a dry cough. Each time he coughed, his body shook like a feather caught by the spring breeze, a sight that made even the onlooker flinch.

But Hwang Jong-ui pressed on resolutely.

“First of all, it seems about half of the refugees will return to their hometowns. After all, their footing in Hwaeum isn’t sufficient. No matter how much farmland we’ve cleared and how many lodgings we have built, it can’t compare to one’s home.”

This was, at least, not a bad thing for Hwaeum either.

An unsustainable surge of population will inevitably bring disaster sooner or later. The side effects were already surfacing here and there. The fact that they were at war and that Hwasan had bestowed so much made people endure the inconvenience, but that could not continue forever.

“The problem is… that number is only half. At most half, and at the very least, thirty percent of the refugees will remain in Hwaeum, and that is where trouble will arise. At present, Hwaeum is a city that has been expanded to the extreme, all for the sake of housing the refugees.”

“Ugh…….”

“It means there isn’t a base sufficient to allow as many as thirty percent of the refugees to become self-reliant in the long term. Only a city on the scale of a provincial capital could accommodate such numbers.”

“Uughhh…….”

“So what’s most urgent matter right now is either to gently persuade them to return, or somehow see to it that they can make a living… No, are you even listening?”

“Sahyeooooong……”

At last, Hwang Jongui buried his face in his hands.

Chung Myung was still gripping the cracked ancestral tablet and wailing.

“For heaven’s sake, damn it! Is the tablet the problem right now? What’s so important about a crack in that scrap of wood?!”

“What? Are you done talking now?”

“Since when did you start looking after your elders like that! Say ‘Hwasan’s Chung Myung’ and the rumor has spread all the way to Yunnan that you’re the very incarnation of wiping out entire bloodlines! If you’ve got the presence of mind to fuss over that bit of wood, you should be taking care of the elders who are still alive!”

“I’m looking after them because they’re dead! The dead don’t nag! Huh? Maybe not. Do they?”

Now, clutching the tablet, Chung Myung began to mutter like a madman, ‘Why are you nagging even after you’re dead. You’re driving people to the breaking point,’ and Hwang Jong-ui squeezed his eyes shut.

‘Just when I thought things were finally settling down…’

With everyone who would do the work gone without a trace, how hellish were the days faced by the Eunha Merchant Guild, left all alone? He couldn’t resent those who’d gone to risk their lives on the battlefield, yet he couldn’t possibly handle the crushing workload left behind. In that mountain of tasks, what melted away was flesh, and what multiplied were wrinkles.

In the midst of that, finally hearing the news that Hwasan had returned, he had come running in excitement, only to find… What is this…..?

‘No, that’s not it. Come to think of it, it was always like this.’

At the dull, throbbing sensation in his stomach, Hwang Jong-ui shuddered as forgotten old memories resurfaced. Perhaps the reason his late father departed this life earlier than expected was…

“So then, khhk.”

Chung Myung, sniffing, roughly swiped his running nose with his sleeve. Seeing this, Hwang Jong-ui’s face contorted, without even a slightest attempt to hide his expression. Of course, Chung Myung didn’t care in the slightest.

“So what is it we’re supposed to do?”

“Haven’t I been explaining it to you! For the past quarter of an hour! Over and over!”

“Ah, why get so angry? No wonder you’re wasting away like that – so full of bottled-up frustration.”

“Urrrghhh!”

Hwang Jong-ui tore at his own hair.

It was truly bizarre. Even if someone had said the same words, if that man said them with that face, they became twice as irritating and twice as infuriating. It was enough to make one suspect he had cultivated some divine art for torturing the human heart.

Stroking the cracked ancestral tablet, Chung Myung opened his mouth.

“Then what exactly is it you want to be done?”

“Mm.”

Hwang Jong-ui’s expression briefly hardened. At that, this time Chung Myung’s face contorted.

“Ugh, don’t make that face. You look like some kind of monster – it’s scary. Ugh. I almost drew my sword.”

Hwang Jong-ui let out a sigh.

“…Of course, from the standpoint of being the head of the guild, an increase in Hwaeum’s population is a good thing.”

“Right.”

“But at present it’s difficult to manage. Wouldn’t it be best to send them back?”

As he spoke, Hwang Jong-ui stole a glance at Chung Myung’s expression.

‘In truth, that’s not the case.’

Hwaeum is a place where the Eunha Merchant Guild effectively wields a monopoly. From the outset, there was no reason for any guild other than Eunha to take an interest in a small village like Hwaeum.

‘But now it’s different.’

If one were to force a comparison for Hwaeum as it is now, should one say it’s like discovering that the carp you let loose in the courtyard pond has, one day, becomes a whale?

He had never wished for it, yet somehow his front yard had turned into a land flowing with milk and honey. If he were to miss this opportunity, even his late father might rise from the grave just to kick him for it.

And it’s Hwaeum. Hwaeum, of all places.

Had this happened anywhere else, every merchant guild in the Central Plains would have sniffed it out and come charging in with bloodshot eyes. But this is Hwaeum, Hwasan’s own front yard. Who in their right mind would try to compete with the Eunha Merchant Guild, which enjoys the protection of both Cheonumaeng and Hwasan?

‘No one in their right mind would do that.’

Hwang Jong-ui skillfully hid his triumphant smile.

He might have been whining in front of Chung Myung, but Hwang Jong-ui had no intention of letting this opportunity slip. Health? If it suffers, you fix it with money. Sleep? You can sleep when you’re dead.

As long as you can make money, most problems can be solved. Wasn’t that the proper mindset for the one who leads a merchant guild?

‘So for now, put on as miserable of a facade as possible.’

Urbanize Hwaeum with the support of Hwasan, half the Central Plains already under its sway, and Cheonumaeng, which has swallowed the Central Plains whole, and gulp down the enormous profits that arise from it.

For such an ambitious plan, it was necessary to convincingly show that they were on their last legs right now.

Hwang Jong-ui knew it. No matter how much he cried like he was about to die, Hwasan could never choose to send all the refugees away. One of the things Hwasan has always felt most painfully was that a major city lied far away.

A nearby city increases a sect’s income. It also enables a stable supply of talent. For Chung Myung, who now must plan Hwasan’s long-term future, those commoners would be resources he could not abandon.

‘So hand over the support without a fuss, Dojang.’

There was no need for his conscience to prickle. This was the rightful compensation the Eunha Merchant Guild – worked to the bone without pay all this time – ought to claim.

“Hmmm.”

At that moment, Chung Myung set down the ancestral tablet with a sharp tap and leaned back as far as he could.

“…May I ask why?”

“It’s too much. It’s impossible. That’s it, right?”

“Yes. Well, for the time being, that’s how it is. For now……”

“Then there’s no choice. Send them all back.”

“…Pardon?”

At the unexpected response, Hwang Jong-ui blinked.

“Send them? All of them?”

“Yes.”

“No, I mean…..”

“Why? You said you couldn’t manage it.”

Chung Myung asked back indifferently.

“Th-That’s true, I suppose.”

“If we can’t handle them, what good is clinging on and going down together? If I’m going to go under, it’s better to send them back.”

“W-Wait a moment, Dojang.”

Hwang Jong-ui’s face went pale.

He had forgotten. That common sense did not work on the bastard sitting right in front of him.

‘Ah, damn it.’

If he’d wanted to scheme something like this, he should have waited for a chance when Chung Myung wasn’t around and gone secretly to Hyun Yeong or Baek Cheon instead. But by the time it occurred to him now, it was far too late. After being apart for just a short while, he had forgotten how to handle this hazardous substance.

Maybe the sight of him polishing the ancestral tablet had been so pathetic that it made him forget.

“D-Dojang. You haven’t forgotten that Hwasan has already poured a massive amount of money into them, have you?”

“Of course not. Who dug that land, and who built those houses?”

At the memory, Chung Myung shivered as if the thought made his teeth ache. It was because not only the Financial Hall’s money, but even the slush fund that Chung Myung had so neatly squirreled away, had been shaken out to the last coin.

“And yet… you mean to abandon all of that?”

“Of course. Will money pop out just by holding on to them?”

They will, you little bastard! Why wouldn’t they! If you hold on to those refugees, of course money will come!

Hwang Jong-ui screamed inwardly, but there was no way that wail would reach Chung Myung.

“The money already spent is done for. If we don’t want to take losses from here on, what else can we do? We have to send them back.”

Hwang Jong-ui squeezed his eyes shut.

‘No.’

No. Absolutely not. Why did Hwaeum end up like this? Because there was demand? Because the population has increased?

Not a chance!

Those people had fled with nothing but their lives. What money could they possibly have to have put up pavilions? Even if the population had increased, without land or a harvest, what real meaning would that have – would the roads have been widened for no reason?

All of it was the Eunha Merchant Guild’s money. These were investments for which they had shaken out the storehouses to the last grain, so that when coins began to jingle in the pockets of the increased populace, the merchant guild would rake them in – everything invested to pull money together would start paying off.

And yet if, here and now, they were to go back to their hometowns…

‘We’re doomed!’

He could almost hear his late father, Hwang Mun-yak, roaring in fury from the afterlife, his voice echoing in his ears. This would be total ruin – nothing left but bones to bury.

“Um….. Dojang. Would you consider thinking it over once more.”

“Yes?”

Sweating cold, Hwang Jong-ui continued.

“Aren’t they people without house or family? They probably don’t even have the funds to return home – might we not just be making victims of them for no reason…”

“Come on, that’s something we can help with a little.”

“….It won’t be an ordinary expense.”

“Is it any better to have them keep sticking around? We’ve already got extra mouths to feed. We have to cut spending if we want to eat and live.”

“Th… That’s true…….”

Chung Myung was more of a stone wall than expected. But Hwang Jong-ui couldn’t back down like this.

“Even sending them back poses a problem. They haven’t planted proper crops this season, have they? Without food for the winter, won’t they just starve to death once they return?”

“That’s a choice they made themselves. Nothing to be done. They say even the emperor can’t save the poor.”

“…”

“And it’s not like keeping them here will magically fix anything. What was that saying: ‘Even a dying fox turns its head to its den’? Well, if they’re going to die anyway, better to die in their homeland.”

“You damned devil.”

“Huh?”

“No, it’s nothing.”

By now, his palms were downright damp.

“S-Still, wouldn’t it be better to somehow help them settle down here?”

“A moment ago you said we had to send them away.”

“Haha. Of course, if we were thinking only of the merchant guild… then obviously, yes. But if they stay, won’t they benefit Hwasan in many ways?”

“Oh-ho?”

“If we thought only of ourselves, then sending them away would be a right choice – but since when are we a place that thinks only of our own profit? We should bear that much.”

“My, my… to think you’d care so much about us.”

Chung Myung tugged at his sleeve and blew his nose loudly.

“After tussling with those stingy Henan rascals, meeting you, Guild Master, brings tears to my eyes.”

‘Snot, more like.’

“How wonderful would it be if everyone in the world were like you, Guild Master.”

‘It’s enough if no one in this world is like you.’

As if he had heard Hwang Jong-ui’s inner voice, Chung Myung suddenly narrowed his eyes.

“But here’s the thing.”

“Y-Yes?”

“Getting people settled takes money too. We’re short on farmland as it is, and it’ll be hard for them to hold out until next year.”

“Hwasan has money…….”

“Hey. Don’t even bring that up. We’re dying here. The granaries are echoing empty, I tell you. Elder Hyun Yeong’s brow has wrinkles so deep you could train inside them.”

“…”

“Then what to do… Someone has to put up the money.”

Chung Myung smirked and looked at Hwang Jong-ui.

“Right?”

Hwang Jong-ui steeled his heart.

“Of course we would gladly empty our storehouses for Hwasan as well. But as you know, the Eunha Merchant Guild has no funds left now.”

“Ah… really? That I didn’t know.”

“While you were away, Dojang, we were feeding and supporting all of them.”

“Funny, though – it looked like quite a few new things had been built.”

“Haha… All of it was for Hwaeum’s sake. At any rate, given the situation, we truly have nowhere left to squeeze out money from either, Dojang.”

Hwang Jong-ui mustered every ounce of strength to put on a look of grief. Let the sincerity ring as much as possible, to convey that he wanted to help but had no way left.

‘Hwasan’s storehouses are empty? Say something believable if you want me to believe it. Do you know how much we paid, just in settlements alone?’

Hwasan had pocketed immense profits through the tea trade alone. Even if they emptied their warehouses clean, by the time they woke the next morning, they’d be full again.

‘If they won’t use that, then they should at least put up the Alliance’s funds. Come on, stop stalling and cough it up!’

It was at the moment when Hwang Jong-ui, harboring a quiet expectation, looked at Chung Myung.

‘Huh?’

Chung Myung was looking at him with a bright smile. For a split second, something inside Hwang Jong-ui’s chest sank like a stone.

“D-Dojang…?”

“Hmm. So Hwasan has no money, and the Eunha Merchant Guild has no money, yet to feed the commoners one needs money. That’s it, right?”

“Y-Yes, that’s right.”

“Then there’s no helping it.”

“Oh! You’re thinking of releasing funds…”

“We call in the ones who have money.”

“Pardon?”

Hwang Jong-ui blinked.

“By any chance, Jongnam…”

“What did you say?”

“M-My apologies. I misspoke. When you say ‘the ones who have money,’ just who do you mean?”

“Come on. Who else would have money? Obviously merchants.”

“…What?”

“No, should I say merchant guilds?”

The corners of Chung Myung’s mouth curled up, forming a sly grin.

“Ugh. I really didn’t want to do this. I’d prefer if Hwaeum had only the Eunha Merchant Guild. But people are about to starve, and we don’t have money, so there’s no helping it. Right?”

Hwang Jong-ui’s neck creaked, snapping to the side. Chung Myung went on calmly.

“We call in a few wealthy merchant guilds from the Central Plains and ask for support. We can offer them the rights to trade in Hwaeum as a compensation. There were a few figures in Henan I got acquainted with recently – if we reach out to them…”

“How much?!”

“Huh?”

“How much do you need?”

“…You said you had no money, didn’t you?”

“I-I can secure funds by putting up our assets and our commercial rights as collateral. W-We can arrange this much. How much? How much will suffice?”

“Come on. Why push yourself that far? How could we impose on you to that extent? It’s fine.”

“No. Are we mere acquaintances?! How could we stand by and watch Hwasan bow its head to other merchant guilds! We’ll do it. No, please let us do it! Dojang!”

“No. I’m telling you, it’s fine.”

“Dojang! Dojaaaang!”

“Hey, now. Your pants are falling down. Let go of me already. Hey! The ancestral tablet will snap, the tablet!”

“I said we’ll put up the money! We’ll handle everything ourselves! Please!”

Misty of tears welled up in Hwang Jong-ui’s parched eyes. The sound of his father’s faint sobbing echoing from the underworld – surely that was just his imagination.

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