An Advertising Genius Falls into the Joseon Era - Chapter 18

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 18
“A hundred boxes? You’re serious?”
Ha Yoon stammered out the question.
“That’s right. All of them.”
The resolve in Choe’s eyes was unmistakable.
“Isn’t that what you said? That there were only a hundred boxes.”
“Yes, well, that’s true, but…”
“Then it’s only right that I buy them all. Before the other gentlemen do.”
What concerned Choe was the prospect of others owning the same goods as she did.
When one’s wealth overflows, one inevitably seeks out things rare and extraordinary.
And when that pursuit reaches its limit, one becomes obsessed with possessing what exists nowhere else in the world.
Even if it were a tribute gift meant for the King.
Greed flickered in Choe’s eyes.
“From now on, can you supply a hundred boxes of this every festival season each year?”
“Every festival season?”
“Why? Is that not possible?”
“No, well, it’s not that it’s impossible, but…”
The more they talked, the emptier his mind became.
It always happened—the wealthy were incomprehensible to him.
‘A hundred boxes…’
A hundred wooden boxes amounted to two thousand nyang—a fortune.
And if he were to deliver a hundred boxes fixed annually, he could scarcely imagine the profits that would accumulate.
Though production costs, including the Gulbi, ran close to ten nyang per box, even subtracting that was an enormous gain.
‘Jackpot!’
He wanted to shout aloud that very instant.
Ha Yoon restrained the impulse and continued his performance.
“I understand. Normally I would have to sell these portions to various parties, but if that’s your wish, I have no choice. I’ll provide you with all the stock I have.”
“Well reasoned.”
Choe gazed at the wooden boxes with satisfaction.
Ha Yoon added a final word.
“However, a quantity that size will require some time.”
“How much?”
Ha Yoon quickly began calculating.
The wooden boxes could be completed in two weeks, but arranging and adorning their contents required just as long.
And transporting a hundred boxes was impossible to manage alone.
He would need the help of others.
After his calculations were done, Ha Yoon spoke.
“I’ll need at least a month.”
“Then that’s how it shall be.”
Choe agreed readily enough.
The timeframe wasn’t particularly important to her.
These hundred boxes weren’t needed immediately—they were gifts to present at the coming festivals.
With such quality, they would make a gift as fine as any ginseng.
Choe’s face was radiant with satisfaction at having secured such a rare festival gift.
“Thank you, madam.”
With the transaction complete, Ha Yoon left Min Seung-ji’s Household.
“Phew—”
The moment he stepped outside, a long breath he’d been holding escaped.
“A hundred boxes…”
His legs trembled and his heart pounded.
When he leaned against the wall, he began to settle, if only slightly.
“Compose yourself, Ha Yoon. You’ve managed bigger things than this.”
In truth, though two thousand nyang was a considerable sum, it paled beside the advertising campaigns worth billions he’d handled before.
But without any capital whatsoever.
And in the Joseon era, no less.
The realization that he’d secured such a contract sent shivers through his entire body.
“Heh heh heh—now those other merchants won’t dare open their mouths.”
Ha Yoon returned to Manshang with a noticeably lighter heart.
***
A month later. Manshang meeting time.
The Great Hall was filled with managers gathered together.
Though the scene looked ordinary enough, today the atmosphere felt distinctly heavy. Every face was taut, and no one dared speak first.
“Good day to you all.”
Im Sang-ok entered and offered the same greeting as always.
“……We are honored to see you, sir.”
The managers managed a reply, but their voices were barely above a whisper.
Today was the day to review the month’s gulbi sales figures.
Im Sang-ok took his seat at the head and moved straight to business.
“So, what is the current status?”
A sharp intake of breath.
The managers hesitated, shifting their weight uncertainly.
Some avoided his gaze; others stared off toward distant mountains.
“Well, that is……”
When someone finally forced themselves to speak, the rest followed, tumbling out their numbers one after another.
“I managed only 120 bundles, sir. I beg your pardon.”
“I could only sell 110 bundles. I have no excuse.”
“140 bundles. Even that took all I had.”
“I sold 130 bundles. I regret I could not do better.”
Nearly all of them fell short of the target of 200 bundles per person.
In truth, even these figures represented healthy sales compared to usual months.
But knowing that gulbi prices would plummet next month made the situation painfully clear.
With the warehouse still bursting with inventory, one could only sigh.
If luck held, they might break even. In the worst case, significant losses loomed.
“You’ve all worked hard.”
Yet Im Sang-ok did not scold them. Instead, he nodded with what seemed like consolation.
Having risen from entry-level manager to the head’s position, he understood his subordinates’ struggles better than anyone.
Im Sang-ok continued the conversation with an untroubled expression.
“Are there any managers who haven’t spoken yet? Please, share your numbers freely.”
“I sold 120 bundles.”
“I also sold 120 bundles.”
“I managed to sell just 140 bundles.”
With no impressive results to boast of, each rushed to announce their sales figures.
Especially those with poor numbers, eager to avoid prolonged scrutiny, made their declarations quickly.
As the reports continued, only two managers had not yet revealed their sales: Song Do-hyeon and Ha Yoon.
A faint spark passed between them.
Their eyes met briefly in the air, each acutely aware of the other.
‘Why aren’t you speaking? Going to wait?’
‘Hmph, doesn’t look like you have much to report either.’
After a moment’s exchange of glances, it was Song Do-hyeon who raised his hand first.
“Ah, Manager Song. Go ahead.”
The next heir apparent to Manshang.
When Song Do-hyeon’s turn came, everyone held their breath, hanging on his every word.
“So, Manager Song—how much did you sell?”
Im Sang-ok’s question was answered with leisurely confidence.
“800 bundles.”
“Eight…eight hundred bundles?”
The moment the number left his lips, the Great Hall erupted.
“Remarkable!”
“As expected of Manager Song!”
“Eight times what I sold! Extraordinary! Simply extraordinary!”
All eyes turned to Song Do-hyeon with awe and admiration.
In a situation where most had fallen far short of the average 200 bundles, he alone had accomplished several people’s worth of work.
It was undeniably an astounding achievement.
A smile of victory played across Song Do-hyeon’s lips. He turned to regard Ha Yoon with unmistakable self-satisfaction.
‘So. See the difference between you and me?’
Yet Ha Yoon showed no reaction whatsoever.
No disappointment.
No admiration.
He simply waited, composed and silent, for his turn.
“Well done, Manager Song. You’ve earned your rest.”
Im Sang-ok nodded with a satisfied expression, then posed his question.
“Is there anyone who hasn’t spoken yet?”
“I’ll give it a try, sir.”
At last, it was the final turn.
Ha Yoon’s hand shot up.
“Ah, Manager Ha. So you’re the one who remained.”
All eyes converged on Ha Yoon.
The look they gave him was markedly different from what they had turned on Song Do-hyeon moments before. In their gaze lay suspicion rather than expectation.
Yet Im Sang-ok’s expression remained unchanged, his smile as mild as ever. “Well then, Manager Ha—how much did you sell? It’s your first time, so don’t feel pressured. Speak freely.”
“That is to say…”
Ha Yoon paused for a moment before answering.
“I sold one hundred bundles.”
“One hundred bundles… Not bad for a first attempt.”
Im Sang-ok stroked his beard, his expression unreadable.
It was no small number.
Yet neither could it be called exceptional.
The lowest sales figure until now had been one hundred and ten bundles, so by the numbers alone, Ha Yoon ranked last.
Considering it was his first real trial and that he’d managed this without a single coin of starting capital, the result wasn’t poor.
But remembering the bold words he’d spoken before, one hundred bundles fell short of expectations.
The other managers, quick to seize on this, began to speak.
“Hah! You sold only one hundred bundles and yet carried yourself with such confidence?”
“I suppose he did reasonably well, but compared to all that big talk, it’s nothing much, is it?”
“Not even in the same league as Manager Song.”
“By the looks of it, this business doesn’t suit you. Why don’t you go back to running a tavern instead? Gahahaha.”
Mockery erupted from all sides.
Admittedly, Ha Yoon bore some share of blame.
A newcomer should have prostrated himself before his seniors, yet he had ignored them entirely, vanishing without a trace for an entire month. The reaction was only natural.
For that past month, save for Yoon, Ha Yoon had spoken to no one else.
Not even a greeting—he’d been too busy running about all day.
He scarcely appeared even at communal meals.
Some had wondered what on earth Ha Yoon was up to, but few had given it much thought.
It would amount to wasted effort anyway.
Meaningless toil.
And now the results lay before them.
Dead last in sales.
How could scorn not flow freely?
Yet as all the others mocked Ha Yoon, Song Do-hyeon—the one who should have been most pleased—had gone rigid, his face hardening like stone.
‘One hundred bundles? He sold that much?’
A place sprang to mind, one where Ha Yoon had crossed his path not long ago.
At the time he’d thought nothing of it, but near that location stood Min Seung-ji’s Household—the finest yangban residence in all of Uiju.
Ha Yoon had been hurrying toward that direction.
Carrying a cloth wrap of unknown purpose.
No matter how he calculated it, there was no other buyer who could have purchased one hundred bundles’ worth of gulbi from Ha Yoon.
The realization filled Song Do-hyeon with dread.
‘No… surely not?’
At precisely that moment, as an ill omen flickered through his mind—
“However, I have one more thing to report,” Ha Yoon added abruptly.
“What might that be?”
“The gulbi I sold… was priced at twenty nyang per bundle.”
“What did you say?”
Ha Yoon’s words sent the Great Hall into complete upheaval.
“You sold each bundle of gulbi for twenty nyang?”
“Has he lost his mind?”
“How does anyone justify selling five-nyang goods at twenty nyang?”
“This is pure fraud!”
“Who in their right mind would buy gulbi at that price?”
Violent protests erupted against the unconscionable profiteering.
Even a merchant has limits that must not be crossed.

This was clearly a transgression.
Even if a profit remained, taking four times the margin was profiteering that violated Manshang’s principles.
And for Im Sang-ok, who prided himself on honor and righteousness, accepting such a thing was all the more difficult.
On his face as he regarded Ha Yoon was plain disappointment.
“Is what you say truly so?”
Im Sang-ok’s voice had hardened, unlike before. This was less a question than a reproval.
“Why did you sell the gulbi at such an inflated price? Explain yourself fully—tell me your reasons.”
Im Sang-ok fixed Ha Yoon with an expression of utter gravity.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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