Chapter 76
We were guided to the tea room and served a sweet-and-sour tea.
The three children, who had once looked like soft black sesame rice cakes, had been humanized and greeted us again.
“Big sister, long time no see!”
“Hello!”
“Hehe!”
I hugged my cousins, who had inherited just the right amount of charm from my uncle and aunt, making them look polished and noble.
“Oh my, have you been well?”
“Wow!”
Meeting my cousins after such a long time, they were full of energy.
Now that they were humanized, they were easier to manage. In their beast forms, they were so small that they were hard to see.
My aunt said she had deliberately painted the walls white to better spot the round, black-sesame-cake-like children.
“I thought you painted it white because it’s pretty…”
“When raising children, prettiness isn’t a consideration,” murmured the youngest aunt with a slight sinister smile.
“Only being visible is important. If I can’t see them, trouble is guaranteed.”
A little while later, the youngest aunt took the children away. As the noisy sounds gradually faded down the hallway, my uncle patted his shoulders and sighed.
“Phew, it’s crazy every day.”
“But since they’re silk-furred rats, it’s less destructive than if they were, say, a tiger or something?”
“They might have mom’s species, but everything else seems to have taken after me. The black fur always worried me. All three are bigger and stronger than most kids their age.”
The three siblings had broken so many pieces of furniture and household items that they eventually had to order a new stone table and iron-legged chairs. Clearly, parenting wasn’t easy here either.
“I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”
Huirok and I were to stay in a cozy annex.
The house where the youngest uncle lived consisted of two buildings: the main two-story building where his family usually stayed, and an annex that was offered to guests when they visited from afar.
“It’s beautiful.”
Both the main house and the annex were built solidly with bricks, painted white on the exterior, and featured arched windows, making them very pretty.
“You’ve worked hard, Nasan.”
As my uncle mentioned my aunt’s name with a relaxed smile, the love and trust he had for his spouse was so evident that I unconsciously held Huirok’s hand.
My fiancé clasped his hand firmly around mine. A satisfied smile slipped onto my face.
“Want to look around a bit more?”
“Yes!”
The youngest uncle took us around and showed us the house in detail.
“When you want to warm up, you can use the exercise yard.”
“It’s smaller than the main house’s, but perfect for the family!”
“It was built when our first child was born. Very useful. After playing there, it’s easy to get them to sleep.”
According to the youngest uncle, the land for their new home had been purchased cheaply by the youngest aunt before she got married. When they decided to wed, they demolished the old house and built a new one with both the main and annex buildings, leaving them financially tight.
For a while, the remaining land was left empty and rented as a parking spot for carriages. Time passed, and the couple had their first child, a black-haired son.
Unsure whether he would be a dog or a silk-furred rat, the youngest aunt sought advice from her experienced cousin-in-law, Baekmo. Baekmo explained that if children had no space to play when humanized, raising them would be extremely difficult. That was how the empty land became an exercise yard.
“The best part is this,” said the youngest uncle, pointing to a small playground-like area.
It had a jungle gym with maze-like paths, sand, and slides, chaotic but intricately designed.
“If you put all three here, they’ll play until they’re completely exhausted.”
“If they hide, we might not find them,” Huirok said seriously.
The uncle explained that it had happened occasionally and offered a solution.
“Then lure them with food.”
“Meat, I suppose, uncle?”
“Exactly. Shake some grilled meat, and even if they’re buried in the sand, they’ll come out.”
After that, Huirok learned a few more tricks for handling the children from the uncle.
Although we hadn’t even eaten yet, my fiancé’s over-eager excitement—drinking kimchi soup first—was both cute and slightly absurd.
After spending a restful night in the annex, the next day we went to the main house at my uncle’s call.
Following my aunt into a room, we saw Seon-oppa standing in the corner, waving. Seeing him after a few months, I checked him over carefully for any injuries. Fortunately, he looked very healthy.
Huirok, standing beside me, cast a protective barrier and nodded slightly.
“You can speak freely now.”
“Thank you, Sobaeksan.”
Seon-oppa, who had been hiding his presence as much as possible, relaxed visibly and sat down.
“The youngest uncle didn’t ask for help from the main house long ago. You came really quickly.”
“We had to reach Gamseokdo before Thanksgiving began, so it wouldn’t seem strange. Huirok worked hard.”
“Thank you again, Sobaeksan. I’m sorry for the trouble caused.”
“It was a journey we had to take anyway.”
“And during the harvest season, you came all the way to distant Gamseokdo. How’s the Soga-ju work going?”
“The lord is diligently stamping documents, so it’s fine.”
Seon-oppa’s expression shifted slightly at the news that Baeksan had been working hard. Though surprised, he seemed willing to overlook minor details.
“Hyeon and Sobaeksan, it’s been a while since I’ve seen both of you. I have a lot to say, but we should handle urgent matters first.”
“Grandmother told me to explain the details to you and uncle directly.”
“Since I have authority here, it’s best that the two of you explain.”
At Seon-oppa’s words, the youngest uncle and aunt exchanged glances.
A moment later, the uncle began recounting the events.
Seon-oppa, part of the public security office, had come from Seolgokdo to Gamseokdo to investigate corruption in a national project carried out by the Geumga family.
In Heulguk, when a massive disaster occurred, the government provided financial support to assist the affected regions. Usually, manpower was mobilized from the army, and supplies were distributed quickly through Geumga’s merchant network.
“Because it’s aid for disaster areas, the Geumga family hardly profits from this,” said my aunt, twirling her pretty ash-colored hair.
“Since there’s no guarantee that typhoons, floods, or large fires won’t occur on Gamseokdo either.”
Because public funds were used, the government occasionally sent covert inspectors to ensure proper budget execution. While it’s hard to monitor all the details with mass movement of people and goods, large expenditures warranted secret audits.
However, reviewing reports from inspectors over several years, problems were discovered.
“I said earlier that there’s almost no profit, right?”
“Yes.”
“In reality, there’s a limited range within which profit can be made.”
Disaster aid supplies had to be sold strictly within the agreed amount to maximize relief.
“But the range is too narrow. If schedules are disrupted due to rain or weather, merchants can’t make any profit.”
Even the wealthy Geumga family can’t have money fall from the sky. So, local officials often tolerated small surcharges of a few coins.
Most areas receiving aid suffered road damage or difficult village conditions. Both merchants and workers had to work much harder than usual. A strict audit would deter anyone from going to disaster areas, so the government compromised.
But extreme cases couldn’t be tolerated.
“Investigations revealed that a few villages in minor trades charged over ten percent more than the official price.”
“So instead of ten silver coins, they took eleven? How did that go unnoticed?”
“Because they targeted only remote villages.”
Reinvestigating reports from isolated villages revealed a shocking truth: brazen, unscrupulous merchants sometimes added fifteen percent to the official price, taking advantage of people already struggling from disaster.
Receiving these documents, Minister Hong was furious that very day.
The absurd thing was that the victims didn’t even realize what had happened.
Those with intact limbs were busy rebuilding their damaged homes, and those with injured family members were caring for patients. Even receiving supplies at all was appreciated.
They considered slight overpricing as compensation for the arduous transport.
It took the government years to fully understand the situation. Unable to delay, Minister Hong reported to the emperor and pressured the Geumga family head.
“Our family head said he thought Minister Hong was a woodpecker, not a crane, that day.”
“So he pecked relentlessly.”
“Because the mishap occurred during a government-funded project.”
Since the accident was caused by a merchant under the Geumga family, handling it fell to the family head. The angry Geumga patriarch immediately began an internal audit.
At first, they thought it would be resolved quickly. Minor evidence like ledgers and witnesses made catching small fry easy.
But the main culprits remained elusive, as all traces had been meticulously removed.
