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    “Oh dear, look at that—he’s tormenting his younger brother again. How many days has it been since their father passed, and he’s already at it?”

    “What? Who’s tormenting whom? Where? Is there a fight?”

    “You don’t know the Jang family from Gaegyeong? Their story is so famous that even a crying child would stop wailing at the mention of their name, and even a bedridden old man would sit up to listen. Have you fallen straight from the sky or something?”

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    “I wander from place to place like rain, drift like clouds, and roam like the wind to spread the Buddha’s teachings. How would I know?”

    “So, you’re a monk? Well, let me tell you. That house belongs to Jang Gye-young, the wealthiest man in Gaegyeong. His wife passed away early, his daughter-in-law followed, then the old man himself died. Not long ago, even his son passed away.

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    Their eldest grandson was a prodigy, fluent in the language of Qing from a young age. He was strikingly handsome, his features so finely sculpted, like a carefully carved masterpiece. But, oh, as if his looks gave him a free pass—his personality is absolutely rotten! There isn’t a single person in Gaegyeong who doesn’t know about the ill-mannered eldest son of the Jang family. He used to torment his younger brother like a cat playing with a mouse. At least while their father was alive, he held back a little, pretending to be cautious. But the moment their father passed, it was like a fish set free in water—he completely let loose on his brother.

    The second son is adopted, but the old couple raised him with as much love as if he were their own. Their father lingered on his deathbed for so long, unable to pass in peace, because he feared the eldest would devour the younger the moment he was gone. That eldest son’s nature… ah, yes! He’s just like Nolbu from the folktale. The Nolbu in that legend is exactly like that family’s firstborn.”

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    ***

    “Get out!”

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    “What?”

    “I said, get out.”

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    Still half-asleep, Hongwoo rubbed his eyes and blinked up at his older brother. Seungwoo—who never liked repeating himself—uncharacteristically did so.

    At the crack of dawn, he had flung open Hongwoo’s door and stood in the doorway like a monolith, his posture rigid, his expression unreadable. Even this early in the morning, he was immaculate—his ash-gray robe layered beneath a deep navy overcoat, adding weight to his already commanding presence.

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    Hongwoo knew his older brother’s temperament was impossible to predict, but surely, even he wouldn’t throw him out in the dead of winter, right?

    “Where exactly do you expect me to go?”

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    “You’re twenty-one. Do you really think it’s acceptable to still be living under your brother’s roof, doing nothing? Even street beggars have more shame than you.”

    Technically, it hadn’t been his older brother’s roof he’d been freeloading under—it had been their father’s. And their father had always told him to do whatever made him happy. Hongwoo had decided that doing nothing made him happiest.

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    But the moment their father passed, Seungwoo wasted no time putting him to work.

    To ‘wash away the impurities of the past year’, he made Hongwoo launder blankets outside in the middle of winter. Never mind the countless servants in the household—Seungwoo had singled him out for the task. Hongwoo nearly lost all feeling in his hands trying to wring out the icy water.

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    “Master Hongwoo, the young master said this isn’t just laundry but a sacred ritual to cleanse away last year’s misfortunes. Shouldn’t you put more effort into it?” Lady Kim, the head maid, had chided.

    His older brother didn’t believe in such superstitions. He was simply finding an excuse to torment him. Meanwhile, Lady Kim stood by, doing nothing but nitpicking his work. By the time he was done, his hands were numb, but his head was burning with frustration.

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    When he tried to cool off by splashing cold water on his face, Lady Kim sneered. “What are you, one of those Hwarang warriors now?”

    And that was only the beginning.

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    Seungwoo assigned him an endless series of ridiculous and exhausting tasks—pulling out his already-organized clothes just to reorganize them by color, fetching medicinal spring water from a mountain despite there being three perfectly good wells on the estate, and other absurd demands.

    Last week, he ordered Hongwoo to clean the wine barrels. To empty them first, Hongwoo and Lady Kim had taken it upon themselves to drink everything in sight—rice wine, clear liquor, anything they could get their hands on.

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    By the time Seungwoo returned home, Hongwoo had been so drunk he didn’t even recognize his own brother and nearly got himself thrown out then and there. He rarely drank to excess—he had an unusually high tolerance—but somehow, he had managed to get himself wasted within the first few days of the new year.

    In hindsight, he should have seen this coming.

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    Ever since their father’s passing, Seungwoo had been trying to push him out. And now, as his brother stood before him, explicitly telling him to leave, Hongwoo realized just how oblivious he had been to the silent pressure all along.

    Then again, it wasn’t as if Seungwoo had ever made a secret of how he felt about him.

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    A freeloader.
    A useless parasite.
    A good-for-nothing burden.
    Even a shit-producing doll.

    Seungwoo had called him all sorts of things over the years, each one making his disdain painfully clear. His sharp tongue never left Hongwoo alone.

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    One time, after yet another round of relentless nagging, Hongwoo had thought to himself: Jang Seungwoo? More like Jang ‘Nag’ woo.

    The ridiculous thought had made him chuckle, but when Seungwoo caught the smirk on his face, his eyes had burned with rage. Hongwoo had paid dearly for it.

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    It was a day he never wanted to remember.

    Truthfully, he had considered leaving ever since their father fell ill.

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    But he hadn’t expected it to happen like this.

    Then again, it wasn’t normal for a man his age to remain unmarried, without a career, still leeching off his older brother.

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    Still… his brother was unmarried, too.

    Seungwoo’s reason for remaining unmarried wasn’t because he couldn’t find a match—it was because of his… particular personality. Unlike Hongwoo, who spent his days idling, Seungwoo had a respectable career and was constantly busy managing the household and its many servants.

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    As sharp as his words were, he wasn’t wrong.

    “I’ll give you three days. Be gone by then.”

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    Normally, Seungwoo would have found an excuse to kick him out on the spot, but he was actually giving him three whole days. How uncharacteristically generous. Had their father’s passing finally softened him?

    Hongwoo didn’t answer, too caught up in his thoughts. But when he noticed Seungwoo’s gaze narrowing, he quickly nodded. With that, Seungwoo, now back to his usual unreadable expression, turned and left.

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    As soon as the door shut behind him, Hongwoo let out a deep sigh and collapsed onto his bedding.

    Screw it. I’ll think about it later. For now, sleep.

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    The immense wealth of the Jang family—the richest household in Gaegyeong—was the legacy of Hongwoo and Seungwoo’s grandfather, Jang Gyeyoung.

    Born as the eldest son of a fallen noble family, Jang Gyeyoung didn’t take the traditional civil service exam. Instead, he pursued the miscellaneous civil service exams and became an interpreter. Even while serving as one, he accumulated a considerable fortune, but it was after his retirement—when he established the private trading company Eunsu Merchant Guild—that he truly amassed his wealth.

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    Rumors even whispered that he was richer than the king.

    Determined to escape the stigma of his family’s downfall, he clawed his way to the top through relentless effort, with no powerful connections to support him. In the end, he reached the highest rank an interpreter could achieve: Junior Third Rank Hall Official.

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    (Note: Junior Third Rank Hall Officials have the authority to participate in policy making and interact with the king.)

    Hongwoo’s older brother, Jang Seungwoo, had inherited their grandfather’s drive, keen judgment, boldness… and temper. If anything, when it came to temper, Seungwoo may have even surpassed their grandfather.

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    Their father, on the other hand, was a man who lived by the philosophy of ‘what’s good is good’. In other words, he was easygoing and avoided confrontation. Some would say he kept the peace; others would call him indecisive. Their grandfather had never thought much of him.

    In truth, their mother had more in common with their grandfather than their father ever did.

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    Park Eunsu, their mother, was a compassionate woman. During droughts or floods, she would open the family granaries and distribute food to the villagers, much to their grandfather’s dismay. To him, a granary was something to fill, not to empty. Their frequent arguments over this never changed the fact that he cherished her deeply.

    As a fallen noble, he had endured discrimination throughout his life. So when he married his son to the daughter of the Prime Minister, it felt like the ultimate triumph.

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    To him, their mother was precious beyond measure.

    How much did he adore her?

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    Enough to tell their father every single day:

    “Marrying Eunsu was the greatest achievement of your life.”

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