NOVEL NEXT Ch 1
BUKDU NEO ORIENTAL FANTASY STORY
Cheong Luyun, New Martial Arts Novel
Author: Cheong Luyun
Publisher: Gwak Donghyun / Published by Good World Co., Ltd.
Email: [email protected]
The copyright for this book belongs to Good World Co., Ltd. and the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, modified, or distributed in any form.
ⓒCheong Luyun / Good World Co., Ltd.
ISBN: 979-11-391-0704-3
Printed in Seoul, Korea
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Someone once said,
“There is no such thing as a beautiful and liberating death.”
In the face of death, everyone craves one more breath, wishes to see one more scene of life, and is crushed by regret for the fragments of life that have passed.
Right now, Jeo Yeonghoon felt that way.
“Ughhh…”
The destroyed motorcycle.
The grotesquely bent arms and legs.
The blood endlessly flowing from his head.
With his vacant eyes, he weakly gazed at the taillights of the car fading into the distance.
The hit-and-run vehicle’s license plate burned into his eyes, but he let out a hollow laugh.
What good does it do now?
The puddle of blood spreading across the road.
It was just surprising that so much blood could flow from his body.
Sudden hypothermia.
The increasingly dizzying mind.
He could sense his death approaching.
Suddenly, fragments of his past life filled his mind.
Had his life been ordinary?
No, it was less than ordinary.
Just average academic skills.
Neither many nor few human connections.
He had blindly followed the path to a regional university.
The army. Discharged as a corporal.
Seven years as a civil service exam candidate in Noryangjin.
At 33, a delivery man for a quick service.
There was nothing he had achieved in life, and regret flooded in.
“Mother…!”
Just thinking about his mother broke his heart.
After his father passed away, his mother had done everything to support her only son.
Insurance salesperson, nursing aide, snack bar owner, florist, etc.
In her thirties, he couldn’t even ask for pocket money from her, so he started working part-time.
From university to supporting his studies for the civil service exam… all his mother was left with was debt.
And then, his mother passed away from pancreatic cancer last year after suffering so much.
Had she ever been proud of him? Had there been even one moment when she thought he was worthy of pride?
This worthless son, who was everything to her…
Tears of repentance poured out without rest.
In that moment, a red light sparkling on the far asphalt entered Jeo Yeonghoon’s eyes.
It was a red jade necklace.
It was his father’s last heirloom, left with the instruction to never take it off.
He had once complained about how tacky it was, mocking it as a family treasure or heirloom, asking how anyone could wear something like that, but after his father passed away, he had never taken it off.
Even though his arms were shattered and his ligaments torn, now a mess of broken flesh, he strained with all his might to reach out.
“Urrrrgh…”
When he forced his body to tense, a disgusting foam of blood erupted.
Suddenly, his vision turned blurry, and his head dropped as if it were collapsing.
And then, his breath stopped.
He didn’t see the tremendous burst of light emanating from the necklace, wrapping around his entire body.
Jeo Yeonghoon woke up with an excruciating headache and a burning thirst.
“Huh? Why am I alive?”
That was definitely death.
A painfully excruciating and terribly lonely death.
How could he forget the intense memory of death?
But what were these vivid sensations?
Jeo Yeonghoon struggled to lift himself from the ground and looked at an elderly couple dressed in tattered clothes, bewildered.
‘…Beggars?’
They looked like they were dressed in the traditional clothing of ancient China, but the clothes were barely intact, resembling nothing more than rags.
He wondered if such a thing could even be called clothing.
“Where… is this…?”
Jeo Yeonghoon was too shocked to continue speaking.
The words coming from his mouth were fluent Chinese.
He had never even traveled to China, let alone learned the language, so it was completely unexpected for him to speak Chinese effortlessly.
Moreover, what was even more shocking was…
‘…Am I Zho Hui?’
The life of an eighteen-year-old boy suddenly filled his mind.
A life so poor that he could count the days he ate meat on his fingers.
His father, Zhao Shun (赵顺), who endlessly ranted about revenge with a voice full of regret in a corner of the iron workshop.
His mother, Guo Aying (郭娥永), who, despite having every reason to blame her husband, prayed daily for his health with a steadfast heart.
His older brother, Zhao He (赵赫), a foolish youth who admired the world of martial artists and had already decided on a nickname and secret technique.
His younger sister, Zhao Yan (赵燕), who was frail and sickly, born despite his mother’s desperate efforts with bitter herbs to induce a miscarriage.
And then, he himself, Zhao Hui (赵辉), who loved reading books so much that by the age of eight, he had memorized the Thousand Character Classic and the Analects of Confucius in just three months, a gift from his father.
In his memories, the Zhao family was incredibly poor but always full of laughter, a warm and happy family.
Then, there were also strange new memories.
The history, culture, scholarly theories, military tactics, and arts of ancient China—subjects he had never learned—came to him in fragments, popping up and fading away sporadically.
It was a strange feeling, almost like a flickering fluorescent light.
What was clear was that these were not the knowledge of the body’s original owner.
Moreover, it wasn’t the amount of knowledge that one person could have.
The most puzzling thing of all was the phrase “Sima” (司马), which was deeply etched into his mind.
Whenever he thought of it, an uncontrollable anger surged inside him.
Everything was utter confusion.
“Where else would it be, you rascal? This is your home. Are you feeling alright?”
His father’s worried voice made Zho Hui respond.
“Other than the throbbing headache, I’m fine.”
Only then did Zhao Shun seem relieved.
“You’ve been lying here moaning for three days… Thank goodness.”
How many poor children in the village, barely past their youth, lost their lives without recovering their strength? There was no guarantee his second son wouldn’t be one of them.
“To recover your strength, you’ll need to eat something…”
The brief joy faded as Guo Aying’s face filled with worry.
Although they ran an iron workshop, production had long ceased, and their finances had fallen into disarray.
It had recently become difficult even to manage one meal a day.
Zhao Shun lowered his head, holding back tears.
It wasn’t just his second son; he couldn’t predict when any of his children might fall ill.
How much longer could they endure? The future was completely uncertain.
Guo Aying looked at Zhao Shun.
“By the way… any news from Master Fang?”
In the past, salt and iron were national monopolies, but after the Salt and Iron Debates during the Later Han Dynasty, they were returned to the private sector.
Naturally, local lords and warlords took control, and the officials in charge of each province monopolized the profits from saltworks and iron mines.
Fang Buli (Fang Bu Li).
He was the head of the major noble family representing Anhui Province, and the governor of Suzhou, who owned the iron mines in Guoquanh’s territory.
Zhao Shun sighed softly.
“Sigh… There are always people waiting to get in favor with Master Fang. We can only hope for a stroke of good fortune.”
It was practically impossible to run an iron workshop in Anhui without the permission of the Suzhou governor.
An iron workshop that couldn’t obtain iron ore couldn’t produce iron tools, so it could barely survive by making small repairs.
Even if they bought iron ore from distant places at high prices, without the “Military Seal” (a permit issued by the governor), they could only produce farming tools.
It was difficult to make a profit from poor farmers. To make big money, they had to produce weapons, particularly swords.
More than that, an iron workshop that couldn’t produce swords would lose its reputation, and repair requests would decrease as a result.
The current state of Zhao’s Iron Workshop was exactly like that.
“What does the Hua family say?”
“……”
At his wife’s question, Zhao Shun could not bring himself to speak.
The Hua family, particularly their head Hua Shuming.
The reason Zhao’s Iron Workshop had fallen into such a dire situation was because of him. He had accepted a bribe of two thousand silver taels in exchange for promising to provide connections to Suzhou’s governor, Fang Buli.
He never imagined that someone from a family that claimed to be an aristocratic, upright lineage would cheat him.
Carrying the weight of his heart, Zhao Shun spoke.
“Please take good care of Hui’a. I will step out for a while.”
“Go… Be careful…”
* * *
No answers.
No matter how much he thought about it, Zhao Hui couldn’t figure out what was happening to him.
‘Is this some kind of dimension shift?’
The only conclusion was this: if this wasn’t a dream and what he was experiencing now was real, it was almost laughable.
“Hahaha…”
It almost felt like he could still feel the warmth of the food he hadn’t delivered yet, but to be talking about dimensional travel? After struggling with death itself?
“Damn, what is this? How? Why?”
Of course, he’d read a few fantasy novels with similar plots.
Like a medical student going back in time and surpassing Hua Tuo to become a divine healer, or a lawyer going back in time to become a great judge…
But me?
Seven years of experience as a civil service exam candidate? Other than that, nothing. Maybe some part-time jobs?
Going through the memories of this body’s original owner, this place, the Central Plains, felt like the chaotic end-of-the-century lawlessness.
It felt exactly like that.
There was no fingerprint identification or CCTV, unlike in modern times.
While there was an imperial law and officials who enforced it, in practice, law enforcement was mostly reliant on testimony and circumstantial evidence.
This meant that torture and confessions played a major role. Whoever could endure torture or make a confession first often won.
Most cases were buried. Why? Because the officials were too lazy.
Rather than investigate a body, they’d take bribes to indulge in pleasures.
Thus, the entire world was filled with unjust stories. Those without power were simply left to die. It was a world of survival of the fittest.
And in this crazy world, what was I?
Even if I was stabbed in the street and dying, would anyone even look my way?
Ah, truly, I am just a lonely, pitiful rabbit with no skills, starving to death.
What? You think I can just learn martial arts?
*sigh* Let’s take a closer look at the memories of the original owner of this body.
The total number of households in Fengtai County was a mere three hundred.
While this might seem insignificant by modern standards, in this era’s Central Plains, it was considered a large city.
A county like this would need fifty or a hundred such counties to make up one province, and several provinces combined would form a single state.
Nine such states formed the Central Plains.
Naturally, the common people never left their province in their entire lives, let alone the state.
Most provinces were larger than the entire land area of South Korea.
In a world where travel was only by foot or horse, leaving the province? That would be an adventure at the cost of one’s life.
Are you starting to get the idea?
The stories in martial arts novels, where people fly around Sichuan and Hebei with lightness skills, are pure fantasy.
The authors of those martial arts novels would probably want to hide in a rat hole if they were here right now.
Do you understand now why Zhang Fei from the Three Kingdoms repeatedly shouted, “I am the mighty Zhang Fei!” like a parrot?
Do you understand the pride he had in his homeland?
At least the original owner of this body had traveled a lot with his father, looking for iron ore and meeting government officials, so he had some experience.
He had at least surveyed the culture of the five major counties of Anhui and even ventured into Jiangsu Province.
However, he had only encountered a sword-wielding warrior from the Jianghu (martial world) once, and that too from a distance.
This man was none other than the notorious Hua Family’s leader.
More arrogant than the Emperor and more ruthless than government officials.
To him, Zhao’s father was just another insignificant guest among the hundreds who had traveled long distances seeking his favor.
This was the reality.
What about learning martial arts?
Sigh… If this were a martial arts novel, I’d probably meet a disciple of the Nine Swords Sect at a nearby inn, but unfortunately, this is REAL Central Plains.
Places like Shaolin Temple, Wudang Mountain, and Mount Hua were truly the realm of immortals. They were just legends passed down through the ages.
Zhao Hui cursed the naive martial arts novel writers in frustration.
“Sigh… those scammers…”
He suddenly looked up at the sky.
He felt lost, wondering how he would survive.
The second son of a collapsing iron workshop or a seven-time failed civil service exam candidate in modern-day Korea—his situation was just as pitiful.
Was there no easy life?
‘…Mother.’
He had forgotten.
The mother he longed to see so desperately before his death.
What would she say to him?
As always, she would probably tell him to live his life to the fullest and do his best, no matter what.
Now, would he never be able to even see her picture again…?
Tears welled up in his eyes, and Zhao Hui let out a small laugh.
After all, he had only visited during the holidays a few times, and even then, sometimes he was too lazy to visit.
He was such a hypocrite. Now, at this moment, tears came.
Remember this: you’re alive. That’s the important thing.
You wanted to take one more breath, didn’t you?
It’s better than death.
From now on, I’m really Zhao Hui.
That’s how he would live.
* * *
It had already been two months since he arrived in the Central Plains.
His daily routine had been simple.
In the morning, he helped his brother collect firewood; in the afternoon, they used the firewood to make charcoal, and occasionally, they cleaned the iron workshop.
They also had to deal with the occasional visitor to the iron workshop, which was rare due to the drought.
Thankfully, things had improved a bit since his father brought back some silver.
However, it was because his father had borrowed money from the infamous “Yama Debt” (a loan with deadly terms).
If the debt wasn’t repaid within a month, they had to surrender one of their limbs. If two months passed, they had to surrender one of their family members. If they still couldn’t pay, the whole family would be exterminated.
It was a terrifying debt, almost like borrowing from loan sharks in modern times.
No wonder it was called the “Yama Debt.”
His father admitted to it, and his mother, upon hearing this, slapped his father on the back for being so reckless. But in the end, his father cried out, “Should we all starve to death?” and his mother couldn’t argue further.
So, their family was now at a dead end.
“Sigh…”
Things were already depressing, but now there was an awful stench in the air.
One of the hardest things to adapt to in this world was the smell.
Obviously, there was no concept of plumbing here.
Water had to be carried from a well, and sewage was simply dumped in the yard.
There was a latrine, but since most families were large, it got filled up quickly.
When it was full?
They would poke it with a stick to see if it would settle; if not, people just went elsewhere.
Zhao Hui had witnessed his neighbor, a woman not even very old, doing her business by the wall more than once.
And today, with the heavy rain, their household latrine overflowed, and his father naturally went to the exact same spot the woman had used.
It suddenly hit him.
That was actually an unspoken, shared latrine between several families.
Ah, so this is what life was like in the Central Plains, even with all the Confucian decorum.
The reality was much harsher than the books.
After finishing his business, Zhao Hui’s father fetched a bucket of water, and then, with his grimy nails, proceeded to clean his teeth.
He then gargled with the same water and let out a hearty burp, perhaps a chunk of tartar falling out. His father’s expression seemed satisfied and refreshed.
‘Ah… father, please…!’
Zhao Hui felt an overwhelming wave of disgust, trembling, but he forced himself to calm his mind.
Well, this was normal to the people of the Central Plains.
To them, this was just the way things were.
Just yesterday, his sister had gotten praised by their mother for washing her hair after a whole month. Apparently, it saved water.
Hygiene? That word didn’t even exist here!
But still! He couldn’t stand it anymore!
He had experienced civilization!
There were things he just couldn’t tolerate, like not being able to brush his teeth.
“Father, where can I find some stiff bristles?”
“Stiff bristles?”
His father cocked his head in confusion for a moment, then his face brightened.
“Stiff bristles? Only wild boar hair would do. Boar bristles aren’t very soft, and they’re not worth much except for their leather. If you ask a hunter, he might give you some.”
His father then brought over a spear that had been left for repair by a hunter.
“Ah, I forgot about this. I’ll take it to him and ask for some in return.”
“Thank you, Father.”
‘What the…!’
A little while later, his father returned with a large bundle, and it was packed full of wild boar bristles.
This was way more than what was needed for a few toothbrushes.
‘Well, nothing else to do…’
Due to the rain, the ground was soaked, and it would be difficult to work on charcoal for a while, so there was plenty of free time.
His older brother, who was a true martial arts fanatic, had already taken his only sword and gone to the back mountain to train.
In this era, most daily essentials were handmade at home, except for a few specialized items that required advanced techniques.
Of course, for Zhao Hui, it was no trouble at all to twist fibers to make shoes or use a rake to sift through rice straw to make mats.
Making a toothbrush wasn’t that complicated either—it was just a matter of making a small comb-like tool.
He would take a long, thin stick and mark where the bristles would go, then heat a metal pin and use it to create holes.
Next, he would gather about three stiff wild boar hairs, tie them into knots, and insert them into the holes, securing them with glue.
Finally, after applying glue to the holes again and securing the bristles, he would repeat this process about a hundred times for each stick.
Once all the steps were completed, the final step was to trim the bristles with scissors to make them even.
Of course, since this was all done by hand, it took a lot of time.
“What are you doing, older brother?”
Zhao Hui’s youngest sister, Zhao Yeon, was staring at him quietly from somewhere.
“It’s cold. You’ll catch a cold.”
“Tsk!”
Zhao Yeon, born weak, was often sick. Especially during this time of year, right after the first frost of winter, she would always catch a cold.
“…That kid.”
When Zhao Yeon pouted and went back to her room, Zhao Hui couldn’t help but smile to himself.
“Alright! Let’s keep making more!”
Four days later, with the room filled with toothbrushes, his father asked:
“What… What is all this?”
Without any explanation, Zhao Hui simply grabbed a toothbrush and stood up.
“Follow me.”
With a dazed look on his face, Zhao Hui’s father followed him as Zhao Hui flashed a sly grin and scooped some water into a bowl, beginning to brush his teeth.
But unlike the wind, which was chilly…
“Ah, ah, it hurts!”
Since this was the first time using a toothbrush made from wild boar bristles, Zhao Hui couldn’t control the pressure while brushing, which ended up hurting his gums.
He could taste a bit of blood, and it seemed like his gums were a little damaged.
But, of course, he couldn’t show weakness in front of his father.
Brushing more gently, it started to feel somewhat like it was working.
‘Yes!’
This was it! This feeling of freshness in my mouth!
Even though there was no toothpaste, the feeling of plaque being wiped away was refreshing.
The bristles were so stiff that sometimes even tartar would break off.
‘Ahhhh!’
It felt like he was really cleaning every nook and cranny!
All the discomfort he had felt for so long seemed to vanish in an instant.
With a stick in his mouth, Zhao Hui looked at his father with a blissed-out face, and his father, seeing him, grabbed a toothbrush as well.
“What’s so great about this thing?” his father asked.
“Father, this is called a toothbrush. You hold it like this and brush your teeth…”
After silently listening to the explanation for a while, his father also started brushing his teeth.
Gradually, his father’s eyes widened…
“Father, you can also brush your tongue. Like this…”
A little while later, after finishing brushing, his father’s expression could be summed up in one word…
“Wow.”
“Is this… this refreshing feeling?”
His father had the most refreshed look on his face.
As his father continued to praise it, Zhao Hui couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride swell within him.
“I invented this!” Zhao Hui said, puffing his chest with pride.
“Ooh!” his father exclaimed, inspecting the toothbrush curiously from all angles.
Though it was a crude and rough creation, the fact that Zhao Hui had come up with such an ingenious idea was impressive.
“Wait…”
Zhao Hui’s father, although a blacksmith, was also a businessman.
He instinctively sniffed out an opportunity.
“…Do you think it will sell?”
Zhao Hui’s face brightened up.
From his father’s reaction, it was clear this was going to be a hit.
Why? Because it wasn’t a typical Central Plains item.
“Let’s go to the market right now!” Zhao Hui said eagerly.
“Alright, let’s do it!” his father replied.
However, a month later, the father and son returned home with their shoulders slumped.
The initial success had been grand.
When Zhao Hui first brought 250 toothbrushes to the market, they were all sold out in less than two hours.
They sold each one for two iron coins, making a total of 500 coins, which was the equivalent of five silver taels.
Five silver taels was enough for an average family’s monthly expenses.
They had earned more than a month’s worth of living expenses right then and there, making it a truly massive success.
Since all the materials were either obtained or gathered, and only Zhao Hui’s labor was invested, the entire 5 silver taels was pure profit!
Naturally, the Zhao father and son’s steps grew busier.
Zhao Soon used all of his connections to gather wild boar hairs, and some sharp-eyed hunters demanded iron coins in exchange, but blinded by the potential for a huge profit, Zhao Soon sneered and bought it all.
Zhao Hui was also busy.
Wood?
He didn’t even have time to chop trees, so he used iron coins to buy it in bulk! Grass? He bought that too!
When the Zhao father and son returned home and roughly calculated, they realized they had enough materials to make at least 3,000 toothbrushes.
Afterward, a full mobilization order was issued for the Zhao family.
Already hearing the news of the success, their mother, Gok Ah-young, took the lead in making the toothbrushes, and the three children, who had exceptional craftsmanship like their father, worked tirelessly through the night.
It was a smooth process!
After fifteen days, thanks to the strong bond of family, about 3,000 toothbrushes were finally completed.
Based on their previous experience, Zhao Hui thought he could raise the price a bit and still sell them, so he set the final price at three iron coins.
If all sold, it would bring in a total of 9,000 iron coins!
In silver, that amounted to 90 taels—90 taels!
Of course, they had spent about 10 silver taels on materials, so the actual profit was 80 silver taels.
Even after paying off the loan for the salt king’s land, they would have enough to live on for at least six months.
With big dreams in his heart, Zhao Hui and his father confidently set off for the market!
However, reality was much harsher than expected.
There were already various types of toothbrushes being sold in the marketplace!
One vendor was selling improved toothbrushes made from wild boar hair that had been soaked for three days in rice water and calamus water to remove the smell.
Another vendor was promoting decorative toothbrushes for women, with engravings that appealed to female tastes, and even smaller toothbrushes made for children to cater to convenience.
The most impressive toothbrush was one that solved the issue of bristles falling out after prolonged use by securing them with a metal pin!
This one was practically selling out as soon as it hit the shelves.
Price?
It was selling for just one iron coin per family set!
While their product had been a hit, the profits were being claimed by other merchants, which was the problem.
Ah, intellectual property!
Zhao Hui had completely forgotten that such a thing didn’t exist in this world.
No matter how creative his idea was, the scale of operations between his small family and the large merchants with entire businesses behind them was incomparable from the start.
In fact, life in this world, where the law and order weren’t guaranteed, was even more competitive and brutal.
Zhao Hui had overlooked the fact that the economy in this world was governed by power, more so than in the modern world.
“Son, what should we do now?”
Father!
That’s the question I’ve been wanting to ask!
The due date for the loan on the salt king’s land is in two weeks, right?
If we’re late, will they cut off our hands?
“…Sigh…”
Suddenly, Zhao Hui looked towards the distant mountains.
In the godforsaken dimension-hopping novels, the protagonist’s journey always goes smoothly, right?
And what’s with all those heroes being born as the sons of barons, or from prestigious families, just like that?
Then they start learning martial arts, magic, and even gain special powers, like telekinesis and such.
But me?
Right now, my father is about to lose his arm to some thugs, and if the little bit of salt king land we have left runs out, my entire family will be out on the streets, begging for scraps.
At first, I thought of trying all sorts of things.
What if I invent electricity?
Yeah, but how? I only know the basic concept of generating power using a motor with mechanical energy, but I have no idea where to get the magnets for the motor.
What about inventing a steam engine?
No, that’s not possible either.
My father can’t even get a handful of iron, so how am I supposed to build a steam engine with no iron?
What if I make a gun?
Nope, that’s not going to work either.
I only know the theory behind using gunpowder for explosive force, but I have no idea how to make matchlocks, gas-powered ones, or rifled barrels.
I’m supposed to be from the modern world, but I can’t do anything, and it’s making me feel worthless. But am I the only one feeling this way? Anyone else in my situation would probably be in the same boat.
Most modern people just pay for products, but how many of them have ever actually crafted something from start to finish like an artisan?
Maybe an engineer could do something, but even then, they probably wouldn’t be able to do it either.
Why? Because all the tools they’ve used are gone.
Electricity, welding rods, cutting saws, drills, screws, safety equipment, chemicals, and all the modern conveniences we take for granted—none of that exists here.
In this world, it’s just labor, and that’s about it.
Right now, the world is as dark as can be.
I never realized how dark the world could be, or how bright the moon was, until I came to this place.
Lanterns? Oil lamps and candles cost iron coins. Everything costs money.
Only the upper class can afford to light their homes at night.
Most people rely on moonlight or don’t do anything after dark. At night, there’s nothing to do but sleep.
That’s why every household has so many children.
“Son, let’s just go to bed. You must be tired…”
My father walked away with his shoulders slumped, and today, his back seemed unusually small.
Zhao Hui stood outside for a long time under the moonlight, feeling frustrated.
* * *
Zhao Yeon scratched her head with a gloomy look and walked toward the yard.
Seeing his younger sister, Zhao Hui scowled.
“Don’t wash your hair.”
Zhao Yeon pouted, her cheeks puffed up.
“Really? You told me not to wash it yesterday too.”
“Wash it tomorrow, or the day after.”
Once the water runs out, it’ll be hell for me and you.
The well is an hour away on foot. A round trip is two hours.
It’s not just walking; I have to carry four buckets of water on my shoulders.
To fill up the water jar at home, I need to make at least four trips.
If I spend the whole day fetching water, my back and arms will feel like they’re going to snap.
I didn’t realize how precious water was until now, when I can just twist the tap and have it pour out at will.
She complains about the smell of her hair?
What’s the big deal? I’m the one who’s going to collapse from exhaustion.
Zhao Hui had now completely adapted to life in the central world.
“Ah, another refreshing morning. How are you, little ones? Did you sleep well?” he said as he swung his wooden sword, approaching his immature older brother, Zhao Hyuk.
Anyone could see how awkward his swordsmanship was.
*Sigh*
Does he really not have a clue? He’s twenty years old, and our family is about to go bankrupt, yet he doesn’t seem to care at all.
As someone who had lived into his thirties, Zhao Yeonghoon only saw his older brother as pathetic.
“But, older brother, doesn’t it seem like the second older brother has changed a bit?”
Zhao Yeon eyed him suspiciously, poking her older brother in the ribs.
“What do you mean?”
Zhao Hyuk responded gruffly, but Zhao Yeon’s strange expression didn’t fade.
“Remember when you brought back the materials for the toothbrush? How could you calculate the exact number of toothbrushes we could make without even taking a sip of tea? I’ve never met someone who’s that quick with numbers.”
Zhao Hyuk nodded as if agreeing.
“That’s true. It was a bit surprising. It was almost like a merchant from a guild using the art of calculation. Have you been studying algorithms like a bookworm?”
Zhao Hui’s expression became odd.
He had roughly estimated the number of toothbrushes he could make with the materials, calculating the volume of each material and multiplying accordingly.
It was just basic multiplication, something anyone from the modern world could do.
‘Hmm? Wait a minute.’
As he thought about it, he realized that none of his family, or anyone in the village, even knew about multiplication tables.
Who would have thought that something as simple as basic arithmetic, which elementary students can do, would be considered a skill?
Of course, in fields like construction or large merchant guilds where measurements and calculations are necessary, there are specialists called “calculation experts,” but those are very rare, exceptional people.
“And suddenly you speak well now, using all these complicated words.”
Zhao Hui had noticed that too.
Why do people always say country folk are so simple-minded?
In this world, the people’s vocabulary was extremely limited.
When I thought about it, most people in the village never leave their hometown.
The people they meet are always the same, and the experiences and goods they encounter are limited as well. Furthermore, most cannot read, so their knowledge is narrow.
The illiteracy rate in this world is truly staggering.
Being able to read is considered a skill in this era.
That’s why the people in the village treat me like a genius.
Most people are so busy trying to survive that they don’t have the luxury of sending their children to school.
I, too, could only attend school for about three months when my father’s ironworks was doing well.
But modern-day Jo Young-hoon?
I spent over twenty years studying without worrying about food and shelter, from elementary school to university, and even as a civil service exam taker.
And that’s not all.
Every day, the world is filled with news, articles, and broadcasts on TV.
In the information age, just using a TV or a smartphone allows you to indirectly experience all kinds of modern advancements.
Politics, economics, diplomacy, management, astronomy, biology, archaeology…
With a simple click of the mouse, you can easily access high-level information from anywhere in the world.
But that’s not all!
By watching dramas, movies, novels, and performances, I could indirectly embody the psychology and characteristics of various human types. This is an experience far beyond what the people here, who have lived in a small village with no exposure to such diversity, could ever know.
I’ve probably encountered more information in my life than the people of this village have in theirs.
But my younger sister simply thought I “suddenly started speaking well.”
Boom!
Suddenly, a shock, like the sound of an explosion, overwhelmed Jo Hwi’s mind.
Now he truly realized how scary and great his presence was.
A genius?
No, it’s too simple to describe it like that.
This is truly madness.
He had finally awakened to his true identity.
“Everyone, step aside!”
Suddenly, as if possessed, Jo Hwi grabbed a stick and began frantically scribbling something on the ground.
Jo Hwi chided himself for having only been obsessed with earning money through simple skills.
Was it only ‘skills’ or ‘things’ that were missing in this world?
Philosophy, ideology, religion, politics, economics, and culture—he began to carefully compare these with modern ideas.
After spending time thinking, he realized there was so much missing from this world.
The dangerous ideas that might shake up the status quo, like revolutionary modern concepts of politics, religion, or culture, had to be excluded one by one.
He also excluded ideas that would take too long to implement or were unrealistic.
What was left?
Economics.
Jo Hwi recalled the simplest economic theories.
Soon, he cheered.
“Yes, this is it!”
* * *
“Father, please hand over the Jo family ironworks.”
Jo Sun was taken aback by his son’s boldness.
“The ironworks? Why?”
Even if we set aside the poor quality of the charcoal being produced, the current ironworks wasn’t even a family asset worth coveting, only raising doubts in his mind.
“I have an idea that I want to put into action.”
“…An idea?”
Is an ironworks so simple that it just operates according to someone’s idea?
The artisans of the ironworks.
In Jo Sun’s eyes, his second son hadn’t even fulfilled one of the many qualifications required to become a master artisan.
To produce high-quality charcoal, you need to have an eye for good wood, and judging the furnace temperature requires years of experience.
Furthermore, you need the physical strength to forge iron for long periods and the casting experience to shape the mold, not to mention working with leather.
And above all, you need the resilience and perseverance to endure all of this alone for a lifetime.
The soul of a craftsman isn’t something that just comes easily.
“No, Hwi, the ironworks is not so simple…”
Jo Hwi cut his father off, as if anticipating his reaction.
“How much more can we borrow?”
“More? More borrow?”
In ten days, his arm would be cut off—how could they borrow more?
“You brat!”
Jo Sun jumped up in fury.
Without caring, Jo Hwi pointed to the massive steel anvil.
“That anvil alone is worth more than fifty nyang, and all the tools and materials together should be worth over thirty nyang. Plus, we have your lifetime of credit and reputation. We could even use the ironworks as collateral. If we use the entire Jo family ironworks as collateral, we could borrow about three hundred nyang, with a full year to repay. I don’t care about the interest rate—just lend it to us, and we’ll repay three times the amount.”
“…”
The boy wanted to use the anvil as collateral?
The hammer and anvil are a craftsman’s life!
And what? He wanted to use his mother and sister as collateral, too?
“Don’t you know how to borrow money properly? What’s this about using the last of our Elwongcha to get money? Shouldn’t you be asking the merchants? Haven’t you heard that Hwayong Merchant Group is so generous with their loans?”
“But this kid…”
Without understanding his father’s frustration, Jo Hwi smiled faintly.
It was probably the first time his father had been so angry.
Jo Sun had sensed that something had changed in his second son ever since his illness.
Jo Hwi had always been intelligent and talented, but he was quiet and obedient, following his parents’ decisions without much protest.
It was the first time his father had seen him take the initiative and stir things up like this.
Yet, given the toothbrush incident, his father also felt like there might be a plausible plan behind it.
It was then that Jo Sun regained his composure.
“…Alright, I understand. You, who care so much for your younger sister, must have a good reason for asking for this. So what exactly are you planning? Why are you asking for money to change everything—using your mother and sister as collateral?”
Jo Hwi’s expression was firm.
“We will create the greatest ironworks in Anhui Province—the Jo Family Ironworks!”
“…The greatest ironworks?”
Did this kid not understand the meaning of the word “kingdom”?
Moreover, the greatest ironworks in Anhui?
This was absurd.
Jo Sun asked, utterly dumbfounded.
“Do you really not understand our current situation? You, of all people, should know better.”
Having read, Jo Hwi had been involved in every aspect of the ironworks with his father.
He knew everything, even the deepest secrets that Jo Sun had never shared with anyone, not even his wife.
Jo Hwi answered as if he had expected this question.
“If it’s about iron ore, we’ll buy ingots.”
“Ingot?”
Iron ingots.
It’s the chunk of pure steel extracted from iron ore after removing all impurities, including slag.
The process of extracting steel from iron ore is very labor-intensive, complex, and inefficient.
It consumes an enormous amount of charcoal.
To extract just three ounces of steel requires five times the volume of charcoal.
To make 18 pounds of steel ingots, how much charcoal would be needed?
If a village ironworks were built, the entire local oak forest would be depleted.
What could make this entire process easier? Steel ingots.
The furnace that produces only pig iron is called a “pig iron forge,” and most of these forges are located in Hefei, the capital of Anhui Province.
All the pig iron produced in these forges is exclusively supplied to the empire by imperial decree. Of course, corrupt officials, who have been bribed, do not manage this strictly, and the amount of pig iron secretly circulating is enormous.
The most tempting temptation in running a forge is converting raw materials into pig iron.
When a forge operates using pig iron, it boasts incredible efficiency.
However, this only applies to forges that can sell high-value products, such as military weapons, and are considered successful—like well-established forges that can produce high-quality goods.
For a forge like the Zhao family’s, which can only produce basic products, it’s a different story.
In fact, running the forge like that would almost certainly result in a loss.
The prices of pig iron and the products they produce are almost identical.
When considering the labor required, there’s almost no profit at all.
“You know the price of pig iron, right?”
Zhao Hui nodded vigorously.
“Based on average market prices, it’s three taels of silver per piece.”
“Is that something you should be saying?”
Zhao Hui’s voice swelled.
“The best-selling product from our forge is the iron plow. I believe it’s the main product for most forges. Farmers dream of having one of those iron plows.”
Wooden plows are easily damaged. They break when they hit rocks in the field or when the joints break apart. When you have to repair the plow in the middle of plowing, it’s already evening.
Naturally, the durability of an iron plow is incomparable to a wooden one, and it becomes a must-have for every farmer!
Among them, a large iron plow that can be drawn by oxen is sold for around forty taels of silver.
If one of these large plows is sold, you can relax for at least four months.
“Let’s focus on producing iron plows. And we’ll lower the prices of all products, including the plows, by thirty percent.”
“Th-thirty percent?”
Are you saying we will sell the forty-tael plows for only twenty-eight taels?
Zhao Sun roughly estimated the amount of pig iron needed to make a large plow and shook his head in disbelief.
“Impossible!”
If you sell a large plow for twenty-eight taels, you would only make about twenty iron coins of profit. This is only based on raw material costs, not considering the labor and time.
“Do you know how difficult it is to make an iron plow? It takes at least half a month to make one! You might as well go do some odd jobs instead, you fool!”
Zhao Hui chuckled lightly.
“That’s only if you include the time it takes to extract steel from iron ore. Come on, father, don’t be like this. If we work with pig iron, I think we can finish in about three or four days.”
Zhao Sun squinted his eyes.
“Three or four days? Are you telling me to endure the pain of hammering on the anvil for four days just to make twenty iron coins in profit? A lumberjack earns twenty iron coins a day! After four days, he earns forty!”
“You don’t have to do it yourself, father.”
Zhao Sun was momentarily stunned.
“In this area, no forge, no, in all of Anhui Province, is there anyone selling a large iron plow for only twenty-eight taels? If the word gets out, people will rush to buy it, bringing silver with them. And even if they resell, they can sell it for more. As for me, I’ll produce at least thirty of those plows every day.”
Zhao Sun looked at his son in disbelief, as if he was hearing nonsense.
“Are you out of your mind?”
“I’m perfectly sane.”
Zhao Hui suddenly pulled out a booklet and started reading.
“Let’s start small. We’ll hire twenty people to begin with. From now on, father, you will be in charge of their training.”
“Tr-training?”
Then Zhao Hui began his long speech.
“First, charcoal makers. Do I really need to explain? I’ll be in charge of their training. Two per team, with four people needed for shifts, working for six-hour shifts.”
“…”
“Next, bellows operators. Operating the bellows is simple, but it requires staying near the fire, so it’s quite tiring. I think it’s best to have two people working in shifts every six hours, so we’ll need four people. Of course, you’ll need to make sure they can judge the temperature of the fire before you hand them over.”
“…”
“Next, the blacksmiths. Blacksmithing is the hardest work, so they’ll need the most people. For now, we only have one anvil, so we don’t need too many people. Four per team, with eight people needed for shifts. These will be the core of our forge, so you need to train them well and encourage them.”
“…”
“Next, the casters. They should be treated similarly to the blacksmiths. Two per team, with four people for shifts.”
“…”
“As for the sales and marketing, I’ll handle it for now. Since the forge is small, I’ll manage it myself, but in the future, we’ll need to hire more people.”
Zhao Hui flipped to the next page of the booklet.
“The daily wages for the charcoal makers are eight iron coins, for the bellows operators it’s nine, for the blacksmiths it’s twelve, and for the casters it’s eleven. If we operate for twelve hours a day, the total wages will be 208 iron coins, which is roughly two taels of silver.”
“…”
“At the beginning, the blacksmiths and casters won’t be very skilled, so the expected production is about twenty plows. Of course, production will increase over time. The expected initial profit is four hundred iron coins, or about four taels of silver. After paying the wages, we’ll still have two taels of silver left. In one month, we’ll make sixty taels of silver. Of course, all profits will be reinvested into the forge, and we won’t stop until we expand the scale of the forge by at least twenty times.”
Zhao Hui closed the booklet and smiled meaningfully at his father.
“Should I explain it again?”
Zhao Sun stood there, still in disbelief, unable to process the information.
A craftsman, or “artisan,” is supposed to be someone who pours their soul into their work, burning their body to breathe life into iron. The whole process is something that only the craftsman should endure.
What Zhao Hui suggested was a concept he had never even thought about—systematically dividing the work and having everyone focus on specific tasks.
While it was common to have assistants when training a successor, this idea of dividing the labor so systematically and operating day and night to produce goods… Zhao Sun was certain that no forge in the Central Plains operated this way.
Despite his doubts and reluctance, the possibility of earning sixty taels of silver per month made it tempting. His son’s explanation was so detailed and organized that it was hard to dismiss.
Feeling like his father was wavering, Zhao Hui added, “If you abandon the idea of being a traditional craftsman, this can work.”
The tasks his sons were doing.
It would take only a month to produce decent charcoal.
The bellows operator only needs to tend to the fire.
If they’re at the fire all day, they will naturally become sensitive to the temperature.
While it’s hard to gauge the fire while learning other tasks, if someone spends their life only near the fire, they’ll likely become better at judging the fire than any artisan.
Blacksmithing is different.
It’s the core skill of a forge artisan.
But even they would become proficient in about six months.
Why? Because they would focus solely on hammering, without doing anything else.
The same applies to casting.
Zhao Hui’s words were certainly plausible.
Zhao Sun swallowed hard.
“Are you really confident in this?”
“Trust me.”
Zhao Sun nodded firmly.
“Good. I will leave the management of the forge to you.”
Division of labor.
A revolutionary production system that began with the Industrial Revolution in England and flourished in Henry Ford’s era was now taking root at the Zhao family’s forge.