Chapter 33
“Here we are.”
Park Mandol of the Songpa Merchants’ Guild stood in front of the vacant shop, fan in hand, smiling broadly as he waved it open and shut.
“How’s that? There’s even a backroom, so you can store plenty of goods.”
Miyu, moved to tears, folded her hands and pressed them to her lips for a moment, speechless.
“I really like the shop. There’s a backroom, and it’s clean inside too.”
“I’m glad you like it. So, have you decided what business you’ll run?”
“Yes.”
Miyu answered confidently.
“What are you thinking of selling?”
“You’ll find out soon. But what about the thing I asked you for?”
“You mean the workers?”
“Yes. Shop assistants.”
“Heh heh, don’t worry. I already arranged a decent worker. Ahh… that one there won’t ever be a noble, but—look, she’s coming.”
Park Mandol pointed to a familiar girl passing the fish stall in front of his shop.
“Huh?”
The freckled girl in faded, worn clothes was Boksil.
“Boksil.”
“Hehe, I look forward to working with you, shopkeeper!”
“What about the rental bookstore?”
“Don’t even mention it. If I stayed there any longer I’d explode.”
“Explode?”
“My head would explode, my insides would burst. There are all kinds of customers. Some complain the novels aren’t to their taste, others demand something raunchier. The worst are the people who borrow books and never bring them back. I have to go door to door to get them, and when I go, some disappear or hide—some even get married off. Sister, a woman getting married at sixty-two—how does that make sense? Did she marry the Grim Reaper?”
Boksil stuck out her tongue and shook her head.
“You came to the right place. Here all you need to do is sell goods well.”
“Yes. If my sister and I work together, everything will go smoothly.”
“Good, that’s settled.”
Boksil had grown up taking care of things and was quick-witted; when things got busy she would even sleep at the shop and worked earnestly. She was kind and sweet by nature — an ideal shop assistant.
At that moment, ox-carts and porters carrying loads came rushing onto the market street.
“Here! Here!”
Miyu waved enthusiastically.
The cart drivers and porters stopped in front of the shop and began unloading.
“Aren’t those medicinal herbs?”
“Unni, are you going to sell medicines?”
Park Mandol and Boksil looked at Miyu in surprise.
It wasn’t unreasonable — apothecaries were usually men, often elderly.
Miyu stroked the broad back of an ox that had been pulling a cart.
“Yes. Boksil. From tomorrow we’ll sell medicinal herbs.”
“I never even dreamed of it. I thought you’d sell things like small porcelain ornaments (silver hairpins, norigae, rings), vegetables, bridal headdresses, powders (face powder, rouge, threads), or needles. But medicinal herbs…!”
“Is there work only for women and only for men? If it makes money, we’ll do it.”
“That’s true… But do medicinal herbs make money? Here in Songpa there are many middlemen and lots of customers, but apothecaries are common as dirt.”
Park Mandol muttered.
“We’ll leave middlemen to the existing traders and focus entirely on consumers.”
“Uh—um, unni.”
Boksil suddenly pointed at the zelkova tree.
“Aren’t those Lee Woon, Byeon Ha-yeon, and Hwang Hee over there?”
Lee Woon, Byeon Ha-yeon, and Hwang Hee stood under the shade of the zelkova, looking this way.
“Medicinal herbs? I never would have guessed.”
“You certainly notice strange things, but I’m also taken aback.”
Hwang Hee and Byeon Ha-yeon spoke in turn.
“She’s an odd sort of woman.”
At Lee Woon’s remark, Byeon Ha-yeon turned and looked at him; the corner of Lee Woon’s eye crinkled in a smile.
“You look like you already expected she’d do apothecary work.”
“Indeed.”
“It’s like horns on the rump of a naughty calf.”
Hwang Hee grumbled.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean exactly that.”
“So why did she choose apothecary work?”
“That’s what I’m curious about too.”
Lee Woon glanced back at his companions, then turned his gaze to the shop again.
Medicinal goods were being unloaded from the ox-carts and baskets.
A few days earlier Lee Woon had remembered what Miyu had said by the river.
—People say the common folk can’t afford medicine because it’s too expensive… wouldn’t it be good if herbs for common ailments were easier to get?
“She wants to make it easy for common people to buy medicine,” Lee Woon said, his face lighting up like a full moon.
“How? How could Miyu do what even the state failed at?”
“……”
Byeon Ha-yeon was astonished; Hwang Hee remained silent.
Byeon Ha-yeon narrowed his eyes at Hwang Hee.
“Aren’t you surprised?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because Dapsimni cow matter couldn’t be fixed by the state either.”
Hwang Hee answered, his expression hard, as he watched Miyu bustling about the shop.
“That was a simple riddle. But apothecary affairs are tangled: sellers, herb collectors, drugstores, physicians—all entangled. Even common herbs are difficult for the people to obtain.”
“Someone who can solve an easy problem can also solve a hard one.”
Lee Woon replied.
“You must have wondered: how could she get people who can barely afford a meal to buy herbs?”
“I’m curious about that too.”
Byeon Ha-yeon and Hwang Hee looked at Lee Woon.
“Let’s watch carefully from now on.”
At Lee Woon’s words, Choi Kangja — who had been painting on a scroll — paused his brush.
“But tell me, why are the three of you so interested in Miss Miyu’s business?”
“She’s doing something that concerns us.”
Byeon Ha-yeon answered.
“What does that mean?”
“We each invested twenty nyang in her.”
Hwang Hee said.
“What’s the florist sketching there?”
Byeon Ha-yeon spread his folding fan and shrugged.
“Folk scenes. I’m painting the cart drivers and porters who brought medicinal goods and the shop.”
Choi Kangja looked down at his brushstrokes proudly.
“Where are the carts and porters, and where are the shop and medicinal herbs?”
Hwang Hee frowned and asked.
“Here. This is the cart, these are the porters, this is the shop, and aren’t these the herbs?”
Choi Kangja pointed to the bold ink lines in the painting.
“Becoming a painter wasn’t so hard after all.”
“Hey now, can you really see the world properly with your eyes alone? See with your heart.”
Byeon Ha-yeon lightly tapped Hwang Hee on the back.
“From the look of your build and energy, studying martial arts and taking an official exam would get you far faster…”
Hwang Hee started, then trailed off.
“No need to study more martial arts.”
Choi Kangja glanced toward the shop and moved his brush, replying briskly.
“You don’t know, do you? This person placed first in the military exam and would have topped the civil one too.”
“Even a dozen of such people wouldn’t be enough for me.”
Choi Kangja replied diplomatically.
“Confidence overflows with you.”
Hwang Hee shot Choi Kangja a look.
“If you want, we can cross swords anytime.”
“That’s unnecessary. What would winning against a painter prove?”
Hwang Hee laughed at himself for being stirred by something trivial and backed off.
“I’m busy painting too.”
Choi Kangja wouldn’t be outdone.
Then Miyu approached them cheerily, walking with a bright step.
“What brings you all here?”
“We’re investors too.”
Lee Woon answered awkwardly.
“How do you plan to make the apothecary succeed?”
Hwang Hee asked, worried.
“Those who invested should sit back and watch. A professional manager will run the business.”
“As for me, I firmly trust Miss Miyu’s methods.”
“Earlier someone said, ‘This is something even the state couldn’t do’—that wasn’t you but someone resembling you.”
Byeon Ha-yeon teased, and Hwang Hee scolded him in return.
“Anyway, now that you’re all here, this is great.”
Miyu clapped her palms with a crisp sound.
The three men, unsure what else to say, shuffled and hesitated.
“I have to go check goods for the next Japanese envoy’s procession…”
“It’s time for official business.”
“And you, painter?”
Miyu gave the two men a small laugh and turned to Lee Woon.
“What can I help with?”
Lee Woon asked simply.
Everyone — Miyu, Byeon Ha-yeon, and Hwang Hee — were startled by his tone.
“There’s nothing surprising about that. If you invested, it’s only natural to help make the business succeed.”
“Y-yes.”
Miyu stammered, then straightened up.
“We need to carry the herbs inside and sort them. Please help.”
“Let’s do it.”
Lee Woon rolled up his sleeves and walked toward the shop, shouting to his companions.
“If you’re busy, tend to your own affairs.”
“Thinking about goods for the envoy, Hanyang’s main market is better than Songpa market. We’re short on time today; we’ll postpone. Hwang Hee, you should attend to your official business.”
Byeon Ha-yeon followed Lee Woon.
“There’s nothing more important than checking on and helping the people’s livelihood. There are no special incidents, so it’s my duty to spare a moment to help with the apothecary.”
Hwang Hee followed them.
Miyu ran ahead of them all.
Choi Kangja watched Lee Woon’s light, crane-like step with a smile.
“She won’t keep still if it’s something that pleases the people.”
At Miyu’s command, the three men began carrying the medicinal goods into the shop.
A parlor decorated with old books and paintings.
“I pay my respects, sir.”
A fierce warrior prostrated himself flat.
“Come in. Commander of the Heavens.”
A young voice floated through the beaded curtain woven of jade strands.
“Have you heard?”
Choi Jae-seo. He was the one behind the murders of Minister of Personnel Kim Du-ryeom and Chief Censor Park Hyeok-gwon, the slanderous letters against the crown prince, and the scheme to bring in a thousand matchlock guns smuggled from Japan.
And his true identity was—
“Yes, Master. I heard that Jeong Hyeon-ju, Vice-Minister of the Board of Punishments, has decided to step away from matters concerning our Cheonsang Church.”
The leader of the Cheonsang Church.
A heavy silence fell.
“It seems the death of his friend Park Hyeok-gwon has not taught Hyeon-ju a lesson.”
Choi Jae-seo muttered.
Those men — Park Hyeok-gwon the Chief Censor and Jeong Hyeon-ju the Vice-Minister — had been placed where they were through Choi Jae-seo’s manipulations.
“That seems only to have angered Hyeon-ju.”
The Minister of Punishments had long ago been reduced to a figurehead; the vice-minister Jeong Hyeon-ju effectively controlled the ministry.
“Is it death or life?”
“If we let him live, will he obey us?”
“I will take care of it shortly.”
“Hang his corpse on Sungnyemun.”
“We obey your command.”
It was arrogant to the extreme. To murder a high official and then hang his body on Sungnyemun, the main gate of the capital, to mock the world!
“Leave.”
“General of the Heavens! Baby General! Heavenly Jade Mirror Baby General! Hail! Hail! Long live the Cheonsang Church leader!”
After the tiger-like commander of the Heavens bowed and chanted his prayers and left, a middle-aged man in a weasel-patterned robe entered.
“How many of our followers occupy the current administration?”
“About three-tenths of the central offices. Of course they do not know one another.”
“There is no need to rush expansion, but we must not be complacent.”
“We will engrave this in our bones and remember.”
The middle-aged man in the weasel robe slid a box wrapped in silk under the curtain.
“As you commanded, we have prepared a gift for her.”
The silk wrapping was embroidered with dragons and phoenixes.
“If she and I join forces, our power will rival that of the queen.”
Choi Jae-seo muttered to himself.
