SSH Episode 11

Wi Haengsu had come to Gaegyeong from Jeolla Province years ago to train in the trading business. Now, eager to share his knowledge, he filled Hong-woo in on how things worked at Eunsu Merchant Guild. 

Originally, their father had been the head merchant, but after his sudden collapse, Jang Seung-woo had taken over. Below him was the second-in-command, a position held by their uncle, Jang Ji-young. Assisting the second-in-command was the senior manager, though the position was currently vacant—a spot Wi Haengsu was convinced he would soon claim. Beneath that were the trade supervisor , clerks, and at the very bottom, assistants.

Without hesitation, Wi Haengsu pointed out that Hong-woo’s official rank was ‘assistant’, the lowest in the merchant guild’s hierarchy.

After chatting with Wi Haengsu for a while, Hong-woo returned to the office. Even after all that time, the floor was still damp. He pushed the windows open wider and stole a glance at Jang Seung-woo. Their eyes met, and without missing a beat, Jang Seung-woo said, “Follow me,” before striding out.

They walked through the bustling marketplace and entered a familiar restaurant—Habukgwan, a place Hong-woo frequented.

Before Jang Seung-woo had joined the Sayeokwon (the government office for interpreters), their mother often brought them here for meals. With their father always busy, she enjoyed hearty portions, her appetite matching her energetic nature, and Hong-woo, even as a child, ate more than most. Jang Seung-woo, however, only ever ate exactly what was served—never more, never less.

After every meal, Hong-woo and their mother would waddle home, stomachs full from overeating, while Jang Seung-woo would scoff and mutter, “Idiots.”

Even now, the memory made Hong-woo smile.

Hongwoo stared intently at his older brother, lost in old memories. The only things that had changed since then were his height and his even more striking features. His exceptional looks ran in the family—his mother had been a renowned beauty in Hanyang. With her sculpted features and his father’s imposing build, Jang Seungwoo had once earned the nickname ‘Sipmannam’, short for ‘a man worth paying a hundred thousand nyang just to meet him’. It was a paradoxical title, reflecting how people wished they could buy a meeting with the wealthiest family’s son in Gaegyeong.

Of course, once Seungwoo’s terrible—no, less-than-pleasant—temper became infamous, the nickname quickly disappeared.

Hongwoo studied him from head to toe. Outwardly, Seungwoo was flawless. As he ordered rice soup and boiled pork slices—knowing Hongwoo’s favorite—he caught Hongwoo staring and met his gaze.

“I’ll deduct it from your salary.”

After their meal, they strolled through the bustling market when the lively sounds of a courtyard performance reached Hongwoo’s ears. Without hesitation, he grabbed Seungwoo’s arm and pulled him toward the performance. Whenever the Yeonhui troupe put on a show, he had to watch—no exceptions. With no real responsibilities other than enjoying life, Hongwoo lived for music and dance.

As the rhythmic drum beats filled the air, Hongwoo swayed his shoulders to the beat, completely immersed.

“You look ridiculous,” Seungwoo muttered.

Hongwoo ignored him and kept dancing. His movements were wildly offbeat, yet they somehow had their own charm. Watching him, Seungwoo suddenly broke into a bright, unguarded smile—the kind that could make people stop and stare.

But the moment Hongwoo’s gaze met his, Seungwoo looked away, masking his amusement. As if he had never smiled at all, he turned back to the performance, his expression composed once more.

Undeterred, Hongwoo kept dancing, playing with the rhythm. Seungwoo’s eyes never left him. Though his lips were set in a firm line, his gaze held a flicker of enjoyment.

Even as Seungwoo scolded him again, Hongwoo stubbornly carried on.

Then, from the corner of his eye, Seungwoo noticed a merchant’s errand boy looking for him.

“I have to go,” he said.

“But I still want to have fun!”

Hongwoo twisted his body in exaggerated reluctance, making his point clear.

“I’ll deduct it from your salary. Do whatever you want.”

Leaving those words behind, Jang Seungwoo turned and walked away with the errand boy, heading back to the merchant guild.

As soon as Seungwoo left, Hongwoo, who had been standing at a distance, pushed through the crowd to get a better view of the performance. Finding the perfect spot, he plopped down right in front, where he could see everything clearly.

“Brother! Brother! Look at that guy! Hahaha!”

Clapping excitedly, Hongwoo watched the performance with delight. Laughing, he reached over and patted what he thought was Seungwoo’s thigh—only to realize, when he turned his head, that the person sitting beside him was a complete stranger.

“Ah! I’m so sorry! I thought you were my brother.”

Flustered, he quickly apologized before glancing around in search of Seungwoo. Not spotting him anywhere, he tried to refocus on the performance. But unlike before, he just couldn’t get into it. His gaze kept drifting back to where Seungwoo had been sitting. After a while, he let out a sigh, dusted off his clothes, and stood up.

“This isn’t fun anymore.”

Maybe it was because he’d already seen this performance before, but suddenly, it felt dull. Deciding to return to the merchant guild, Hongwoo turned away from the courtyard performance and slipped out of the crowd.

***

For the next few days, Hongwoo tirelessly swept, scrubbed, and polished the office. His body ached, but seeing the place spotless filled him with satisfaction. ‘Finally, I’m actually pulling my weight around here.’

Pleased with his work, he turned to Jang Seungwoo and asked if there was anything else he could do. Seungwoo barely spared him a glance before absentmindedly ordering him to clean the bookshelf.

Hongwoo turned to face the massive bookcase lining the wall, his jaw nearly dropping.

“All of it?”

“Who was the one who said they’d do anything if I lent them money?”

‘Right. That was me.’

Hongwoo clamped his mouth shut and reluctantly moved toward the bookshelf.

At first, he lazily dusted the empty spaces between the ledgers, barely putting in any effort. But then Seungwoo’s voice cut through the silence.

“If you don’t want to do it, leave. I’ve told you this over and over.”

Following Seungwoo’s pointed finger toward the door, Hongwoo let out a silent sigh. Without another word, he started pulling out every single book from the shelves. Then, after thoroughly wiping down the bookcase, he carefully dusted each ledger before putting them back one by one.

As Hongwoo sat on the floor, dusting ledgers with an expression of sheer boredom, the office door swung open, and Wi Haengsu stepped inside.

“Well, well, our young master is working awfully hard.”

Despite only working here for three days, rumors had already spread that Hongwoo was the Jang family’s adopted second son. It wasn’t exactly a secret, but the way people looked at him made him feel small.

Every time someone brought it up, Wi Haengsu would tease him, saying, ‘How could a noble young master be suffering like this?’ At first, the word adopted had stung, but thanks to Haengsu’s constant joking, Hongwoo gradually regained his usual spirit.

Now, watching Hongwoo slumped on the floor and halfheartedly dusting, Haengsu let out a laugh. But the moment his eyes met Jang Seungwoo’s, he straightened his posture and respectfully handed over a ledger.

Seungwoo flipped through it, pinpointed the errors, and said curtly, “Fix it.” Then, he handed it back.

Tucking the book under his arm, Haengsu nodded. “I’ll take care of it right away.” With that, he hurried out.

Bored, Hongwoo watched him leave, throwing him a pitiful look as if begging to be taken along. Unfortunately, Haengsu was in too much of a hurry to notice his silent plea.

By the time Hongwoo placed the last ledger back on the shelf, it was long past time to go home. Stretching, he glanced at the window—the sky had already darkened. Seungwoo, who had finished his work ages ago, was still seated, immersed in a book.

Noticing Hongwoo was finally done, Seungwoo closed his book as well.

Knock. Knock.

A composed, deliberate knock echoed through the office. Seungwoo, preparing to leave, called out, “Come in.”

The door opened, revealing a figure too tall to be a woman yet too refined to be a man.

“The errand boy mentioned that the head merchant hasn’t returned home yet.”

‘A man.’

Hearing Juseon’s voice, Hongwoo found himself staring, almost entranced. There was something about him—his voice, his presence—that was effortlessly captivating.

Noticing Hongwoo’s gaze, Juseon turned and offered a polite bow. Snapping out of his daze, Hongwoo quickly bowed back.

“Go home.”

Seungwoo’s voice was firm, but Hongwoo hesitated. He lingered near the bookshelf, reluctant to leave. His curiosity about the mysterious man kept him rooted in place.

Only when Seungwoo’s sharp gaze turned into a silent warning did Hongwoo finally get up and head for the door. Even as he left, his eyes kept flickering back to Juseon.

That night, lying in bed, Hongwoo couldn’t stop thinking about him.

‘I’ve never met anyone like that before.’

‘Is he close to my brother?’

‘I hope I can get close to my older brother too.’