“Understood,” Jin Cheon-hee said, nodding slowly. “I will speak to Her Highness Wangya Ju separately regarding this matter to ensure the terms are clear.”

Gongsun Hyeon shook her head gently, a small smile playing on her lips.

“Regarding that, there is no need. I have already conveyed the message through dear Yeong.”

It appeared Gongsun Yeong had built an impressive network of connections even amidst the chaos of wartime. Perhaps it was thanks to her innate, sunny personality, but it seemed she was conversing quite well with the prickly Wangya Ju.

Jin Cheon-hee continued, shifting the topic to the logistics.

“The investment of funds is a hurdle, certainly, but manpower will be the true bottleneck. However, if we can supply warhorses to the military—even if the profit margin per unit is small—the sheer volume will result in returns impossible to achieve through simple trade.”

“Yes. As expected, you are quick with calculations.”

That’s my line.

If Jin Cheon-hee was considering the logistics of selling Shu Brocade, Gongsun Yeong seemed to have already leaped ahead to the trade of horses.

“Our White Qilin Medical Pavilion plans to join this venture. We intend to sell medicines.”

“Hoh?”

“Not merely the Golden Wound Ointment for soldiers, but we have developed treatments effective for livestock as well.”

“Then they could be used in the ranches.”

“Precisely.”

It goes without saying, but pharmaceuticals are not always created according to their initial target. Through trial and error with human medicine, veterinary applications are naturally discovered.

In this era, a warhorse was a fortune on four legs. Yet, the moment a horse could no longer run, its throat was cut. Livestock that could not walk was useless to a grand army, and it was natural providence to slaughter them for meat. However, if a valuable warhorse could be saved with a simple treatment, would there be any clan in the world that would refuse to buy that medicine?

“If this succeeds, the White Qilin Medical Pavilion, the Gongsun Merchant Guild, and even the tribes opening trade will all benefit.”

Gongsun Hyeon’s eyes widened slightly.

As expected of the White Qilin Medical Pavilion. He knows exactly the advantages he possesses.

In the past, the White Qilin Medical Pavilion under Zhuge Rin alone was known as a place housing a terminally ill Pavilion Master. Everyone knew that touching him meant trouble, yet the Pavilion itself had no reason to expand, nor the energy to step out into the world. It was a place with a predetermined end, where vultures waited for the neurotic genius called the White Qilin Divine Physician to finally die.

However, the moment the young Young Pavilion Master entered the picture, the Divine Physician gradually changed. He finally began to speak of a future. And now that his illness was cured, he was passing everything he possessed to his disciple. His temperamental nature remained, but had he not reached the level where he could watch his disciple with a pleased, fatherly expression?

Having made up her mind, Gongsun Hyeon spoke.

“Come to think of it… The Young Pavilion Master is also of age. How would you feel about a marriage with our dear Yeong?”

Pfft!

As soon as the words left her mouth, tea sprayed across the table.

Not satisfied with merely spitting it out, Jin Cheon-hee coughed violently for a long while; it seemed the man hadn’t imagined such a topic arising in his wildest dreams.

Gongsun Yeong, finding the situation equally absurd, shouted, her face flushing.

“Sister! What are you saying! How can he and I… The age difference is…”

“Yeong-ah. This is a place I came to as the Clan Head. Be quiet.”

At her sister’s stern command, Gongsun Yeong’s face turned bright red, and she shut her mouth tight.

Then, laughter rang out.

“Hahahaha.”

It was Zhuge Rin. He snapped his fan shut with a sharp clack and continued, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“I appreciate the gracious words, but he is a child with much to learn yet. Since my disciple’s heart does not move for such things, we are not in a hurry.”

Jin Cheon-hee quickly added, wiping his chin.

“Yes, right now I’m busy researching medicine… let alone marriage, I have no thought of romance between men and women at all…”

If I marry Gongsun Yeong, am I the thief, or is she?

No, perhaps due to that ‘ability that does not grow,’ this body might be older than it appeared. However, regardless of speculation, checking his pulse revealed a body exactly of his apparent age. It reached the point where he wondered if his time had simply stopped rather than his growth being stunted.

He had thought he would glean some truth during the banquet with Wangya Ju, but His Highness Eun did not appear. Only His Highness Geum had looked down at Jin Cheon-hee with strange, unreadable eyes for a long time.

Let’s be honest. I just don’t have the courage to approach the truth yet.

He was afraid this daily life would shatter the moment he learned the truth. Therefore, Jin Cheon-hee was merely hugging the identity of ‘Physician Jin Cheon-hee’ tightly, refusing to let go.

K-dramas aren’t far away.

Secrets of birth, switched babies—he thought he’d only see such tropes in morning dramas, but he never imagined his life would mirror one. Making the situation even messier with a marriage alliance in this complicated web was truly madness.

Well, I don’t have the leisure to look at other things either.

Gongsun Hyeon nodded, retreating gracefully.

“Anyway… You are drawing quite a big picture while creating shared interests, Young Pavilion Master. Moreover, I think the heart that leads your medical path with all its might is amazing as well.”

“Th… Thank you.”

Wiping the spilled tea with a towel, Jin Cheon-hee answered awkwardly. Beside him, Wang Gak-yeon looked at him with sour, skeptical eyes.

Gongsun Hyeon concluded nonchalantly.

“Then, let the Gongsun Clan and White Qilin Medical Pavilion cooperate more closely than before.”

Did we finally take a step forward?

Jin Cheon-hee laughed awkwardly, the tension in his shoulders finally easing.

***

He saw the army moving in Xianmu. He heard there were still remnants to sweep.

“We will kill them all. I wish the Suksin tribe would all die without leaving a single survivor. Isn’t that right? How many comrades were lost because of those bastards? How many families destroyed?”

A soldier who had lost one arm spoke, his voice filled with a hollow, vibrating resentment. His pupils were empty, devoid of light. They were the eyes seen only on a battlefield—eyes looking at a distant place, not the present, staring at horrors only they could see. The expression ‘hollow’ was insufficient to describe that abyss.

Jin Cheon-hee had been treating soldiers and beggars since his arrival. He distributed relief rice and recruited laborers to cultivate potato fields together. In Earth terms, it was a New Deal policy.

How good would it be if everything could be solved just by distributing rice?

However, that cannot be. It was impossible to boost an entire economy with handouts alone. Rice is a consumer good that vanishes once eaten; infrastructure projects had to be created to replace that void.

“That… These three potatoes will do it.”

“You mean Kim Potato, Lee Potato, and Park Potato?”

“Right.”

In Earth terms, the Kim, Lee, and Park potatoes native to North America would now conquer this continent.

Jin Cheon-hee took out three potatoes from the expensive earthenware pots and planted them in the field. All three were different varieties. With that as a signal, the beggars of Xianmu began planting alongside him.

For people living in Xianmu, herding cattle or sheep was the standard livelihood. Since few among them had experience with agriculture, he had worried about teaching them at first. However, the difficulty of maintaining a potato field was incomparable to the grueling labor of rice farming.

Potato fields began to form, row by row, according to Jin Cheon-hee’s instructions.

“You plant variously at first,” Zhuge Rin observed.

At his Master’s words, Jin Cheon-hee nodded.

“Yes. Because we have to find out what fits the soil best. Experimentation must come first.”

Saying so, he scurried to a furrow, chided a worker that it shouldn’t be planted quite like that, replanted it himself, and returned.

“Dinner tonight will be Pork Bone Potato Stew.”

“Hahaha… I plan to try making it using horse meat.”

Spending a busy day like that, he returned to the inn at night and glared at the parchment for a long time. It was an appeal to send to the Emperor. Or rather, claiming it was an appeal to His Majesty, he intended to send it to Pung Ha-eun.

Outwardly, Pung Ha-eun was merely a Highness, so asking this favor shouldn’t be too difficult. It would be beneficial if Pung Ha-eun simply saw it, and even better if he reviewed it alongside Pung Ha-geum.

He didn’t want to think deeply about whether he was their half-brother or not. However, it seemed… that side had thought about it deeply.

Anyway, it’s better to use what can be used.

Submitting an appeal that moves the Emperor’s heart is not an easy task. Jin Cheon-hee’s eyes were dyed blue for a long time as he contemplated, and finally, he readjusted his grip on the brush.

“Whew, let’s do it.”

Eventually, his hand moved, writing down the appeal in upright, confident strokes. Cutting to the chase, the content was as follows:

[In the Three Kingdoms period, when the Wu Kingdom of the Sun family persecuted and treated the Shanyue tribe roughly, they rose up in insurrection. Rebellions, both great and small, plagued the land until the day Wu was destroyed.

In contrast, the Shu Kingdom showed magnanimity even while conquering the Southern Barbarians. Did the tribes not admire this benevolence and swear loyalty of their own accord?

His Majesty the Emperor’s grace and great mercy are already known to all under heaven. If you influence them with this virtue, both the Empire and the tribes will know peace. But if you persecute them greatly, they will become eternal enemies and shed blood for generations. Therefore, I implore you to show Your Majesty’s Great Virtue.]

Is this… correct for the appeal format?

The Earth habit of looking for templates even when writing a single report had not vanished. To write this content, he had mentally browsed numerous forms, and thanks to that, he could draft it with some confidence.

Showing it to his Master before sending it to His Highness Eun, Zhuge Rin looked slightly surprised.

“Surely you have never prepared for the civil service examination…”

“Are there parts to fix? Master?”

At those words, Zhuge Rin answered calmly, “It can be said you wrote it correctly.”

He didn’t say where to fix it. Instead, he just answered with a strange nuance.

“…First, advising the Emperor by comparing current events to ancient history can be said to be the correct sentence structure for a loyal subject.”

I referenced a lot, Master.

Korean organizational society is like that. The most basic skill is to read the format an organization uses to report and suggest. Any organization has its own rules, be it corporate culture or the boss’s taste. Jin Cheon-hee had simply checked ‘Previous_Year_Appeal_Format.hwp’ in his mind.

Zhuge Rin smirked.

“And the interesting point is that the one who subjugated the Southern Barbarians was Zhuge Liang, the founder of our Zhuge Clan. Me, the last survivor and Clan Head, and you, the direct disciple and successor. This historical citation must have been aimed intentionally.”

“Yes. Because any work needs a justification.”

Master pressed his forehead with a troubled expression.

“Are there parts to fix?”

“There aren’t. I am troubled because there aren’t. I think perhaps, this appeal might go up to the Imperial Court Meeting presided over by the Emperor himself…”

“Oooooo!”

“Do not shine your eyes so brightly. It is true that the probability of the appeal being accepted is high, but conversely speaking, His Highness Eun will desire to recommend you for office even more.”

Hehehe.

Actually, if he wanted to recommend Jin Cheon-hee, he would have done it long ago. For some reason, the Royal Family was leaving Jin Cheon-hee alone.

If I consider the reason, is it ultimately due to the nature of power?

The Emperor had finally built his imperial power solidly; was there a need to bring a new, unpredictable player into the stadium? Even in a situation where the people’s support for the White Qilin Medical Pavilion’s Young Pavilion Master was rising day by day.

“By the way, can it really go to the Imperial Court Meeting? It would be really nice if it did.”

Zhuge Rin sighed, looking at his disciple’s sparkling, naive eyes.

“You do not know well the value you possess.”

In the first place, for someone who never studied for the civil service exam to write an appeal fitting the strict court format with his own voice—just because he read some other people’s appeals—was infinitely close to impossible.

“You aren’t even a Confucian scholar studying the Book of Songs, Legalism, or the Tao Te Ching.”

The book the disciple read most was the Compendium of Ten Thousand Herbs.