One Hundred Boxes of Tribute

"Depending on your answer, you will be held accountable."

"……!"

The ever-benevolent face of Im Sang-ok had frozen solid.

Mere moments ago, this gathering had been filled with idle chatter and jokes. Someone had tossed a jab Hayun's way, someone else had blustered about their trade deals. But now it was different. The moment Im Sang-ok let his anger show, everyone held their breath and nervously watched the room.

So tense had it become that even Hayun—who rarely cowered in any company—found herself shrinking.

But only for a moment.

"Chief Registrar Yun. Come in."

Hayun offered no excuses, no explanations. Instead, she quietly played the card she had prepared.

A short while later—

"Heave—ho!"

A commotion erupted at the entrance to the great hall.

"Goodness, this is heavy."

Chief Registrar Yun groaned dramatically as he set something down. What he had set down was none other than the wooden chest Hayun had made.

"Delivered as requested."

Hayun turned to him. "Thank you, Chief Registrar Yun. But what about the rest of the goods?"

"Did you expect me to carry that entire mountain by myself? So I borrowed some extra hands."

"Extra hands?"

Yun Jeopjang gestured toward the back. At once, thunderous voices began ringing out from the entrance.

"Ten wooden chests, delivered!"

"Ten here as well!"

"Ten more wooden chests, coming through!"

Laborers filed in one after another, stacking the wooden chests neatly across the floor.

At the sight, the haengsu began to murmur.

"Wh-what is all that?"

"Why wooden chests, all of a sudden……?"

"What on earth could be inside them……?"

In the blink of an eye, a hundred wooden chests filled the great hall.

Im Sang-ok asked with a puzzled look. "Factor Im."

"Yes, Daebang."

"What is all that?"

Hayun paused briefly, sweeping her gaze across the room before speaking.

"The one hundred dureum of dried corvina we're sending to Royal Secretary Min's residence today."

"What?"

"You're saying there's corvina inside those chests?"

Every eye in the room turned to the wooden chests. No one seemed able to believe it. But there, stamped plainly on each one, was the Mansang mark.

"It's real? It says *Mansang Yeonggwang Gulbi* right there!"

"Don't tell me…… this is a joke?"

"You packed corvina in *that*?"

"Selling corvina at twenty nyang just because you stuck it in a wooden chest?"

"Honestly. The nerve of this one."

They were still only half-convinced. So Hayun, without a word, picked up the chest resting on the very top and opened it.

*Click.*

A subtle fragrance of paulownia wood drifted out as the corvina within came into view.

"Ohhh……!"

"I-it's so luxurious!"

"My, now that's what I call a looker!"

"I've never seen anything like it in my life……!"

No one could contain their admiration for what Hayun had created. Neatly arranged over fine straw lay the corvina, each one bound in brilliant, multicolored silk thread. From the chest design on down, not a single element lacked refinement. Everything bore Hayun's touch—true luxury goods, the kind that would have been hard to find even in the modern world. A masterpiece born of a modern eye and the craftsmanship of a Joseon artisan.

Then someone who recognized the silk thread cried out.

"Hold on! Isn't that raw silk?"

"It is! That's genuine silk thread!"

"Unbelievable…… binding corvina with precious silk?"

"Ha! I can't make head or tail of it."

Tuning out the commotion around her, Hayun spoke calmly.

"As you can see, this is a custom-made paulownia chest, and the corvina are bound in silk thread. Add the cost of the chest and the silk to the corvina itself, and twenty nyang isn't so steep, is it?"

One by one, the haengsu began to nod.

"Well, the production costs alone must be considerable."

"Strictly speaking, she isn't just selling corvina, is she?"

"Hmm, at that level, twenty nyang is more than fair."

"Selling two products in one go…… clever, I'll grant you."

"Hmm……"

Im Sang-ok's anger seemed to have eased; he drew near and examined the chest closely.

"The craftsmanship is flawless……"

For decades, Im Sang-ok had prided himself on having seen every kind of goods Joseon had to offer. Yet this was something even he had never laid eyes on before.

"The corvina and the silk are our own, so needless to say, they're the finest quality."

The chest's form, its quality, its composition, its durability—everything was perfect. However long he examined it, it exceeded his expectations at every turn.

"Hm."

Having finished his inspection, Im Sang-ok gave his honest assessment.

"Well made."

It was a brief remark, but genuine admiration lay within it.

"A splendid piece of work."

As if his earlier fury had never existed, Im Sang-ok turned to Hayun with a gentle expression once more.

"It certainly looks worth the twenty nyang."

"Thank you, Elder."

At his praise, Hayun finally allowed herself a small breath of relief. Im Sang-ok studied her. "I take it this, too, came out of that head of yours?"

"……Yes. Every piece made by hand. Putting these together has been a month of pure chaos."

Learning of her situation, the haengsu nodded along.

"……So that's the story!"

"No wonder we never saw hide nor hair of her!"

"Not bad for the new kid, eh?"

Before anyone realized it, the way they looked at Hayun had changed—from envy and jealousy to respect and admiration. An aesthetic sense like hers was rare anywhere in Joseon.

But what truly astonished the haengsu was something else entirely: Hayun's execution. Imagining something in one's head and bringing it into reality were two wholly different matters. The world was full of merchants who could talk a fine game. Hayun was not one of them.

From design to production, from choosing materials to the finished product—she had overseen every step herself. She wasn't simply selling goods; she had shown the bearing of a great merchant, one who could set the stage and steer the current itself. To rise beyond a mere trader and become a true great merchant required precisely this power to command the whole.

Having glimpsed that quality in her, the haengsu regarded Hayun with something close to awe.

Hayun continued her explanation.

"We've also struck an agreement to send one hundred of these chests to Royal Secretary Min's residence every year, at each holiday season."

The moment those words left her mouth, every jaw in the room dropped.

"A hundred chests, *every year*?"

"Wait—if it's every holiday, isn't that two hundred a year?"

"At…… twenty nyang each?"

"That's four thousand nyang in total."

As someone finished the calculation, gasps of amazement erupted all around.

"Insane. She's insane……"

"How did a rookie land a deal like that?"

"Even Factor Song couldn't touch this, could he?"

"Right? Who could beat that?"

"……Grr!"

Song Do-hyeon, who until moments ago had worn an air of easy confidence, now looked as crumpled as a sheet of paper. The color drained from his once-assured face, and his lips trembled faintly. So devastating was the blow that even Im Sang-ok, the greatest merchant of his age, could not entirely hide his astonishment.

He turned to Hayun. "Is this true?"

"Yes. I made the agreement personally with Lady Choi, the mistress of the Min household."

"Ha… haha."

Im Sang-ok let out a hollow laugh. He had known her talent was extraordinary, but he had never imagined she would display ability of this caliber from the very start.

My eye for people hasn't rusted after all, it seems.

Im Sang-ok gazed at Hayun with a look of profound satisfaction. "Honestly now—you amaze me."

"Actually, there is one thing I'd like to request of you, Daebang."

Then Hayun spoke up, carefully. "And what might that be?"

"I would like us to present these chests as Royal Tribute."

"Tribute goods? Why?"

Tribute was not something one could offer on a whim. It demanded exacting procedures and inspections, and the process was anything but smooth. The costs fell squarely on the trading company's shoulders, and the goods themselves had to be surrendered outright. It amounted to volunteering for a loss.

Yet Hayun explained her reasoning.

"Corvina worth twenty nyang is not something ordinary commoners can easily afford in the first place."

"That is true."

"So we must raise its value—until it earns a place on the King's royal table."

"Oh ho."

Im Sang-ok regarded her with evident interest, and Hayun drove the point home.

"The moment this corvina reaches the royal table, the whole world will know that Mansang's Yeonggwang gulbi is the finest in Joseon. How, then, could anyone quibble over whether the price is cheap or dear?"

"……!"

When Hayun finished speaking, the once-raucous great hall fell silent as if by magic. A hush descended, as though a ghost had just passed through the room.

"……?"

For an instant, Hayun glanced back with a look that asked whether she had made some terrible mistake. But the eruption of cheers that followed told her the worry was for nothing.

"……O-ohhh!"

"What a brilliantly cunning idea!"

"Wow, I yield. I yield! There's no keeping up with this!"

"How does she even *think* of these things?"

"Tch. Total defeat this round. You win, Factor Im!"

"Hey, rookie! Don't you dare run roughshod over our tavern again!"

The crude jabs once hurled at Hayun had turned into fervent cheers. It meant all the more because this was not something anyone had handed her—she had earned it entirely on her own.

Im Sang-ok watched the scene with deep contentment. "Very well. Have it your way."

"Thank you, Elder!"

Amid the flood of cheers, Hayun fought down the emotions welling up inside her. Only now did she truly feel like a member of Mansang.

One month. Outwardly she had pretended nothing was wrong, but inwardly it had been a time when she had to steady her heart again and again. Eating alone, sleeping alone, with no one to talk to—sometimes she caught herself murmuring aloud just to hear a voice. And all of it in a land ten thousand miles from home. For Hayun, who had nowhere to return to, those were days that had been nearly impossible to endure.

But she had endured them to the end—and at last, with her own two hands, she had changed everything.

"Long live Factor Im! No—long live Mansang!"

As if to reward her month of toil, the cheers for Hayun rang on and on, their warmth lingering long in the air. And so intoxicated was everyone by that warmth that no one noticed the moment Song Do-hyeon slipped away unseen.