An Advertising Genius Falls into the Joseon Era - Chapter 43

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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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Chapter 43
“Ha ha ha! So there were two genuine men among us!”
Wi So-gang slapped his knee with laughter.
“Excellent! Let’s drink our fill today without regret!”
The drinking continued throughout the evening.
Intoxicated by the Bunju’s high proof, the atmosphere of the banquet grew heated in moments.
“Come now, Manager Ha—surely you’ll have a drink with us?”
Wi So-gang pressed the Bunju upon Ha Yun again, though he hadn’t yet touched a single cup.
“Wi So-gang. It’s been ages, but you seem to have no interest in me at all.”
But each time, Song Do-hyeon would suddenly interject and accept the drink on Ha Yun’s behalf.
“My cup’s been empty this whole time and you haven’t even noticed. I’m wounded.”
“Ah, you’re right. You’re right. I’ve been neglecting Manager Song terribly.”
Wi So-gang filled Song Do-hyeon’s cup with a bitter smile.
“Please, have another.”
“You have one too.”
Song Do-hyeon and Wi So-gang traded cups back and forth, draining the Bunju.
An hour had already slipped by.
The potent liquor was nearly gone.
As Wi So-gang gazed at what little remained, his smile faded by degrees.
Then it happened.
“Oh, Manager Song. Long time no see.”

A Qing merchant who happened to recognize Song Do-hyeon approached him.
As if they were old acquaintances, Song Do-hyeon bowed respectfully toward the man.
“It’s been a while indeed.”

“This is quite like you. If you’ve arrived, you should say hello. What are you doing lurking here?”

The man turned with a laugh.
“Everyone’s gathered over there. Come greet them.”

He pointed to a table laden with Qing merchants.
“They’ve all been waiting with bated breath for you to arrive.”

Song Do-hyeon regarded the spot with an uneasy expression.
If he didn’t go, it could cause trouble with the trade arrangements.
After a brief pause, Song Do-hyeon spoke.
“I’ll step over for a moment.”
Ha Yun nodded in acknowledgment.
The moment Song Do-hyeon rose from his seat,
he staggered.
The intoxication he hadn’t felt while sitting suddenly rushed upon him.
For all his capacity as a drinker, having consumed that much Bunju, it was only natural that he couldn’t steady himself properly.
Seeing this, Ha Yun asked with concern.
“Are you… all right?”
“I’m fine… for now.”
Song Do-hyeon made his way unsteadily from the table.
Once Song Do-hyeon had departed, Wi So-gang moved to Ha Yun’s side as if he’d been waiting for precisely this moment.
“Your name is Ha Seong, isn’t it?”
“Why do you keep asking what you already know?”
Ha Yun replied curtly.
“I don’t recall your face—how long have you been at Man-sang?”
“Well… six months or so?”
“Six months?”
Wi So-gang’s eyes narrowed.
“You’ve held such an important position in just six months?”
“Is there something wrong with that?”
“Nothing wrong about it, I suppose…”
Wi So-gang looked Ha Yun up and down as though skeptical.
“Did you cast some spell? How could such a thing even be possible?”
“Not magic, exactly… I suppose I just have certain aptitudes?”
Ha Yun shrugged, deflecting the question with calm indifference.
“Word has it you displaced the previous Manor Lord to claim that position yourself…”
Ha Yun paused, letting the silence stretch before he continued.
“What sort of magic did you work to make that happen?”
“…!”
The weight of the question flickered across Wi So-gang’s eyes.
“I rose to Acting Manager Position in six months, and you took the Manor Lord’s seat overnight—we’re two sides of the same coin, aren’t we?”
“…”
The words hung in the quiet that followed.
Wi So-gang’s perpetual smile had frozen into something rigid and sharp. In contrast, a strange amusement played across Ha Yun’s features.
Then Wi So-gang burst out laughing.
“Ha! I like you!”
As he spoke, Wi So-gang poured out the last of the Bunju.
Splash, splash, splash!
“A man ought to have ambition—that’s the way of things.”
He extended his cup toward Ha Yun once more.
“Let’s drink to the future of us both.”
“…”
Ha Yun gazed down at the cup in his hand.
The bottle had been drained so thoroughly that a fine sediment had collected at the bottom of the glass.
From those dregs rose a thick, concentrated alcohol smell—the Bunju’s essence compressed into liquid fire.
‘How exactly am I supposed to drink this?’
Ha Yun’s eyes shifted toward Song Do-hyeon.
He was still deep in conversation with the Qing merchants, far too occupied to spare them a glance.
“I need to use the washroom for a moment…”
Ha Yun rose smoothly from his seat.
He was no fool to fall for such transparent manipulation.
“Tch.”
The moment Ha Yun left, Wi So-gang tilted back the last remaining Bunju and drained it.
“Ahh.”
The potent spirit burned down his throat.
With the drink finished, Wi So-gang turned toward Song Do-hyeon.
He shook his head slowly, his tone turning rueful.
“I confess, I cannot fathom Manor Lord’s thinking.”
“About what?”
Song Do-hyeon’s eyes were glazed, his focus drifting.
He’d been drinking steadily here too, long past his usual limit.
“Why he chose that upstart instead of you for the position.”
“…”
Song Do-hyeon said nothing, his head bowed.
“I hear he’s only worked at Man-sang for six months, wouldn’t you say?”
Wi So-gang pressed on, building on the conversation he’d just had with Ha Yun.
“By experience alone, by ability alone—surely you’re the superior candidate?”
“…”
“If I were Manor Lord, I’d have given you the post.”
Pour, pour, pour.
Song Do-hyeon filled his own cup, nursing the wound buried deep within.
Gulp. Gulp.
He drained it in one long swallow.
Watching him, Wi So-gang’s expression shifted into something knowing and subtle.
‘Song Do-hyeon. I know what you are. You’re cut from the same cloth as me.’
Wi So-gang and Song Do-hyeon had watched each other climb for more than a decade, ever since their days as Junior Managers.
One had become Manor Lord of Black Sand Manor. The other still lingered as an ordinary Junior Manager.
Comparison was inevitable, no matter how one tried to avoid it.
And now, to add salt to the wound, he was serving some green-eared youngster—the loss was almost unbearable.
Wi So-gang, mistaking the nature of Ha Yun and Song Do-hyeon’s bond, began to feed that resentment.
“What do you say? Why not claim the representative’s seat for yourself instead of that boy?”
Wi So-gang refilled the empty cup as if offering comfort.
Pour, pour, pour.
The wine swirled in the cup, threatening to spill yet holding back.
As if it were speaking for Song Do-hyeon’s heart itself.
“Just say the word. I’ll help you with all the sincerity I can muster.”
Song Do-hyeon said nothing.
He simply stared down into the cup.
His reflection in the wine looked unusually pathetic tonight.
“If you desire it, even now…….”
Wi So-gang’s hand rose slowly upward.
Past his chest,
across his shoulder,
and finally to his throat.
Slice—
Wi So-gang dragged his hand left and right across his neck as if drawing a line.
In that moment,
Crash!
Song Do-hyeon hurled his cup to the floor.
Shards exploded outward with a deafening clatter.
“Song, Song Manager?”

“What are you doing?”

All eyes snapped toward Song Do-hyeon at the sudden commotion.
The musicians who had been playing to enliven the gathering moments before ceased their performance, watching Song Do-hyeon in silence.
“Never again. Don’t you dare say such things.”
Song Do-hyeon pointed at Wi So-gang with a hand dripping blood.
“Say something like that in front of me one more time, and I won’t let it slide.”
“My, how frightening.”
Wi So-gang raised both hands and stepped back a pace.
“Calm yourself, friend. I was only joking.”
He tried to smooth over the mood as if it were nothing serious.
“Surely you don’t think I’d actually do anything to you? Of course not—it was absurd talk.”
Though Wi So-gang made an effort to ease the tension, Song Do-hyeon’s darkened expression would not relent.
That was when it happened.
“What’s wrong? Why is it so quiet?”
Ha Yun, returning to the gathering hall, noticed the change in atmosphere and glanced around.
He quickly perceived that something had occurred near Song Do-hyeon and approached him at once.
“Did something happen?”
Song Do-hyeon rose from his seat, concealing his bleeding hand.
“The mood’s gone.”
He grasped Ha Yun by the other hand and drew him forward.
“Let’s leave.”
“Yes, all right.”
It was no time for further questions.
Ha Yun had never seen Song Do-hyeon’s face darkened with such fury.
What could have provoked such anger in him?
He who always maintained such composure.
Unaware that the reason lay with himself, Ha Yun was led out of the gathering hall by Song Do-hyeon’s hand.

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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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