The Youngest Son of the Eunhae Merchant Group - Chapter 292

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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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The Youngest Son of the Eunhae Trading Company Chapter 292

Chapter 292. Poetry Thief (5)

Regardless of Chu Il-gong’s inner turmoil, the Poetry Competition began.
“This competition’s theme is….”
The Tournament Announcer spoke the theme chosen by the Emperor.
“Wind and Snow.”
Dong!
The bell rang.
Chu Il-gong stared at the bell, his mind racing.
‘Let me think… Among that bastard’s poems, which one had wind and snow as its theme?’
.
.
.
Chu Il-gong had risen through the ranks of the National Academy as a student, then as a senior student, then as an assistant instructor, before finally receiving an appointment as a provincial official.
He had climbed all the way to becoming a regional magistrate, but ultimately his greed for bribes became his downfall.
The Emperor had issued an imperial decree demanding he surrender all the bribes he’d accepted.
However, he had only surrendered about one-third of the bribes he’d actually received before resigning.
But even that amount was more than enough to live comfortably.
‘No matter how I think about it, I’m just too clever.’
During the civil service examination, he’d managed to pass by sneaking glances at another candidate’s answers and copying them.
And when discussions arose about personnel appointments, he’d smoothly advanced by subtly gifting expensive wine to his superiors.
When that became problematic, he’d quickly fled to a provincial post, and this time too he’d resigned while keeping enough to live on.
He harbored no regrets about leaving office.
After all, his only reason for entering government service had been to secure wealth.
‘The world should be lived the way I, Chu Il-gong, live it.’
Yet now that he’d stepped down from office, a certain emptiness had crept in—the absence of those who recognized him.
Ordinarily, after retirement, one should spend their days leisurely surrounded by admirers singing one’s praises.
Of course, he had already devised a plan for this as well.
To become famous through poetry.
‘That Yu So-ak fellow, my junior back then—his poetry had real merit.’
It wasn’t that he’d belittled the man’s talent out of jealousy at how brilliantly it shone.
From the very beginning, he had set out to steal Yu So-ak’s poetry….
And from that time, he’d already had his entire retirement plan mapped out.
Someone had recognized the value of Yu So-ak’s poetry, and his collection had been released into the world.
And just as he’d anticipated, it had garnered an enormous response.
Even now, thinking back on it, that was truly a missed opportunity.
‘That fame should have been mine! Curse it! Even now, thinking about it makes my blood boil.’
But I couldn’t simply wallow in regret, so I set about searching diligently for someone else.
His intellect wasn’t particularly dull, but therein lay the problem—it was specialized in entirely different directions.
So he’d lived his life slithering about like a loach, snatching up only what benefited him.
Thus, those who knew him well called him “Chu”—the character for loach—a fitting epithet.
Of course, Chu Il-gong cared not one whit what others called him.
In any case, because his mind worked only in such mercenary directions, Chu Il-gong’s literary talent was abysmal.
Yet he’d managed to secure his position at the National Academy purely through his gift for currying favor with superiors and his cunning exploitation of his juniors.
Still, there was reason behind his ambition to become famous as a poet.
Poets commanded such extraordinary prestige, after all.
Why else would they bestow the title of “Sage of Poetry” upon those who composed verses with exceptional skill?
As he prowled about searching for his quarry, he eventually succeeded in discovering treasure.

“I’ve encountered someone of remarkable poetic talent. Would you care to meet him?”

The moment I heard the verses of a man named Song Rok, whom I’d met through someone’s introduction, my entire body erupted in goosebumps.
Exhilaration flooded through me.
‘This is the one!’
So I persuaded him to compose countless poems, selected the finest among them, and published them under my own name to the world.
Naturally, Song Rok protested, but I paid him no heed whatsoever.
Who would listen to his words?
The world grants credibility to those who appear respectable, after all.
‘Truth has always been obscured by appearances. Hehehehe.’
If he became too troublesome, I could simply silence him.
Living thus, savoring ever-mounting accolades, calamity struck one fateful day.
It was none other than… this accursed Poetry Competition.
In any case, now that it had come to pass, I would manage it as I always had.
By using my wits, I could somehow muddle through.
Realizing the Poetry Competition couldn’t be avoided, I devised my own countermeasure.
I would memorize all the countless poems Song Rok had written and transcribe them during the competition.

Chu Il-gong hastily scribbled one of those poems and submitted it.
Then the Reader began to recite the verse.

“The song of the wind seeps into my heart….”

At that poem, Chu Il-gong tilted his head in confusion.
‘Hmm? There’s something familiar about it….’
And the spectators who heard the poem marveled at it.
“What a beautiful poem indeed!”
“As expected of the renowned poet Mi Si-gaek Chu Il-gong!”
“Such an exquisite poem….”
But that wasn’t right.
It wasn’t a poem that Chu Il-gong had written.
After the second round concluded in this manner, the third poem submitted by Chu Il-gong was read aloud.
“Hmm?”
And all the spectators, being those with a keen interest in poetry, quickly sensed something amiss.
“It seems similar to something…”
“You’re right…”
“Could he be imitating Mi Si-gaek’s poetry?”
“Yes, the previous poem definitely felt more complete.”
“Is this one an imitation?”
“Ha! Really?”
“Wow! How shameless! How could he imitate Mi Si-gaek’s poetry in a place like this?”
Those who mistook the first poem as belonging to Mi Si-gaek.
‘But the one just read was the poem I submitted….’
Chu Il-gong felt a premonition that things wouldn’t unfold as he intended.

* * *

I smiled as I watched the murmuring crowd.
Good, my plan is unfolding perfectly.
I had anticipated this reaction from the spectators. Chu Il-gong’s methods were predictable after all.
He had built his reputation by utilizing Song Rok’s poetry. So he must have memorized Song Rok’s verses thoroughly.
Song Rok himself had written a considerable volume of poems while staying at Chu Il-gong’s residence.
But there was something Chu Il-gong hadn’t considered.
Song Rok himself was participating in this Poetry Competition.
The entry fee for this Poetry Competition was quite substantial.
Those from wealthy families or Imperial Officials could pay it without difficulty, but for someone as impoverished as Song Rok, it was a burdensome sum.
There had been various complaints about the fee amount, but ultimately it proceeded as planned.
Such standards were necessary to filter out the mediocre and unworthy.
If one truly possessed talent, finding a patron wouldn’t be difficult.
Desperation finds a way.

And the second thing Chu Il-gong hadn’t anticipated was Song Rok’s passion.

“I wrote an extraordinary amount of poetry while staying at Chu Il-gong’s residence. I composed over a hundred pieces a day.”
“How many days did you stay there?”
“About two weeks.”
“….”
“That’s when I was able to establish the foundation of my poetic craft.”

In other words, most of the poems in Chu Il-gong’s possession were Song Rok’s early, unfinished works.
And to fuel his revenge, Song Rok had spent every day refining and perfecting his poetry, that passion adding flawlessness to his verses.

The judges continued their evaluations.
“Hmm, this poetry is….”
“Haha! Where does such talent come from….”
“But this poetry feels somewhat derivative….”
“Even if it is derivative, the skill to imitate to this degree is impressive….”
Their expressions remained uncertain.
Still, the established rules were to evaluate the poetry itself and eliminate two of the four contestants.
Thus Song Rok and Chu Il-gong advanced through the first round of competition.
The next round of competition began.

* * *

By now, dusk had fallen, and Chu Il-gong heaved a sigh of relief.
He had survived today’s competition, which had extended through three rounds.
“Excellent! Truly a reputation well-earned!”
“Absolutely!”
At his friends’ praise, Chu Il-gong laughed awkwardly.
“Haha, you people! What did you think of my abilities? This competition is child’s play!”
“Of course, of course!”
The Old Friend who had registered Chu Il-gong for the Poetry Competition spoke up.
“To reveal your talents to the whole world! I was right to register on your behalf!”
Chu Il-gong swallowed his anger as he looked at that friend.
‘If only it weren’t for that fellow…!’
But he could not reveal such feelings, so he merely maintained an awkward smile.
“How about we celebrate today? Let me treat you all!”
“Wonderful!”
“What about Geumwol House? They say a new Gisaeng just arrived there and she’s absolutely beautiful.”
At his friends’ suggestion, Chu Il-gong shook his head.
“I appreciate it, but I think I’ll head back. I composed so much poetry today that I need some time to settle my mind.”
“Well, poets are always sensitive, after all.”
“You must be quite exhausted from today’s competition.”
“Then go inside and rest.”
With that, Chu Il-gong headed toward his residence, though his feet were actually leading him elsewhere.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been here.”
This place was where a certain ‘Fixer Organization’ operated.
He’d stumbled upon knowledge of this place by chance during his time in government service, and had sought their assistance several times since then.
From murder to any conceivable task—they would handle it all for the right price.
This time, too, I needed their help.
I made my way to the back entrance of the inn and knocked on the door.
Knock, knock.
A small window at the top of the door opened, and a voice emerged.
“What brings you here?”
“Three cups of wine and four pheasants.”
“You’re short one cup of wine?”
“Haven’t you already drunk that one yourself?”
Once that exchange concluded, another voice spoke moments later.
“What is the nature of your request?”
“I need a life taken.”
“Whose life must I take?”
“A man named Song Nok. An ordinary fellow who studies literature.”
Chu Il-gong’s eyes gleamed with malice. By the time the competition ended today, I had finally learned the truth.
That this man named Song Nok had participated in the competition.
“Then the commission fee is twenty silver coins.”
“One more thing—he must die tonight.”
“There is an additional fee. Five silver coins.”
“…Very well. I shall accept the commission.”
Thinking of that money made my chest ache. Twenty-five silver coins could buy two decent thatched cottages.
‘How much I suffered to earn that amount!’
But there was no helping it.
One careless mistake could cost me everything.
If it were revealed to all under heaven that I had stolen Song Nok’s poetry…
‘The very thought is horrifying.’
So I had to eliminate this loose end, no matter the cost.
I suddenly regretted not having killed him sooner to silence him permanently.
Once more, a voice came from within the door.
“Once the commission is fulfilled, bring twenty-five silver coins within a fortnight. As you know, if you fail to pay the commission fee, I shall take your life in its stead.”
“…There is no need for concern.”
Chu Il-gong glanced around cautiously and departed from that place.

* * *

At last, the first day of the Poetry Competition had concluded.
Despite the substantial entry fee and brief application period, far more participants had registered than anticipated, so the competition would span four days.
Which meant, of course, that a considerable sum had flowed in from those entry fees.
No wonder the Emperor was delighted.
The Imperial Palace’s wealth was divided into roughly three categories.
The largest portion went toward the nation’s treasury and administration.
The remainder was split between the Imperial Court’s personal assets and the Royal Relatives’ stipend.
The Royal Relatives’ stipend was allocated so that members of the imperial family could live comfortably without working.
And by imperial law, the Royal Relatives’ stipend reverted to the crown after a hundred years—beyond that, they were no longer considered imperial family.
In truth, allocating wealth to the imperial family carried a deeper message: harbor no treacherous thoughts.
It was essentially saying: I’ll ensure you live well enough, so don’t bother staging rebellions or destabilizing the realm.
But from what I could see, such measures would never satisfy the greedy.
Giving them a bit of land and saying “live quietly” hardly seemed convincing—not when they could imagine all the empire’s territories becoming theirs if fortune smiled upon them.
Yet the Emperor proved far more formidable than I’d given him credit for.
He’d seized all the Royal Relatives’ assets entirely, instead arranging to distribute a fixed monthly stipend.
“Do as you wish with the money I provide—save it to buy land, spend it however you like,” he’d said.
But those who’d never earned a coin in their lives, only squandered freely, could hardly accumulate wealth.
They had no choice but to rely on the Emperor’s allowance, naturally watching his every expression and treading carefully.
Truly a fearsome man.
Of course, the Emperor could afford such stern measures precisely because his personal wealth was abundant.
The Imperial Court’s assets, that is.
Without the Imperial Court’s reserves, additional funds would have to be allocated from the national treasury.
And that would inevitably force the Emperor to heed his ministers’ concerns.
But the Emperor’s personal fortune was genuinely vast.
So he needed not worry about his officials’ opinions—and when the Royal Relatives obeyed, he could shower them with generous sums, making it advantageous for them to heed his every word.

I’m currently at my Temporary Residence.
No matter how busy the Poetry Competition keeps me, I cannot neglect my training in the Imperial Palace martial arts.
“Thank you for your instruction.”
“Your progress is far faster than I anticipated. This is why teaching a prodigy of the Realm is such a joy for a teacher.”
At Jin-yeong Great Swordmaster’s words, I responded with humble modesty.
“You are too kind.”
Just then, Jin Yu Warrior approached me.
Hmm?
I had asked Jin Yu Warrior to keep watch over Chu Il-gong just in case.
The fact that he’s come to find me like this means something urgent has happened.
“Forgive me. This is a very urgent matter….”
Jin-yeong Great Swordmaster smiled wryly and turned away.
“It seems you have pressing business. Then I shall take my leave.”
“Please go safely.”
Only after watching Jin-yeong Great Swordmaster disappear into the distance did I ask Jin Yu Warrior.
“What is the matter?”
“Chu Il-gong has commissioned an assassination of Song Rok.”
“Sigh….”
This man truly knows no bounds.

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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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