"One Stroke Sweeps All! The author who delivered Eastern Westerly Saga to this girl, show yourself at once!"
A woman was crying out pitifully, like a bride who had lost her husband's hand in a bustling marketplace.
Her identity was none other than Chu Yong-wol of the Hundred Books Rare Bookstore—not the merchant house, but the bookstore itself.
Yang-hwi watched her and curled up the corner of his mouth.
'First test: pass.'
As Jeong In-hwa had said before, romance tales like these weren't suited for making a fortune.
Yet here she was, showing such desperate longing. That meant she recognized the value in the novel Yang-hwi had written—and was confident she could profit from it.
'A merchant who shone in her past life, as expected.'
While Yang-hwi was lost in those thoughts, Chief Steward Han Seok-eon stepped in front of Chu Yong-wol.
"And who might you be, to cause such a commotion the moment you arrive at our estate?"
Only then did Chu Yong-wol regain her composure.
"This girl is Chu Yong-wol, who hurried here from the Hundred Books Rare Bookstore in Nanchang upon receiving a letter from the Baek family head."
Chu Yong-wol clasped her hands together and offered a deep, respectful bow.
"First, I apologize for my rudeness. My heart was so urgent that I forgot even basic etiquette."
Since Chu Yong-wol had arrived at the crack of dawn, Baek Mu-ryang was in the training hall, instructing the three Baek siblings.
"Think nothing of it."
Unlike Baek Mu-ryang, who readily forgave her impudence, the chief steward who had come out at the noise pressed for more details.
"So, Miss Chu. What exactly brings you here? And what was that 'One Stroke Sweeps All' you shouted about?"
Chu Yong-wol's gaze darted around, then fixed on the chief steward.
"I apologize once more. The letter's writer mentioned it was a confidential matter requiring a private talk."
"...Is that so?"
The chief steward's expression soured slightly, but Yang-hwi felt satisfaction once again.
'Second test: pass.'
Yang-hwi hadn't written anything about secrecy in the letter.
That much was clear from the fact that she'd shouted "One Stroke Sweeps All" the moment she arrived.
'She figured everyone would know from the letter, but seeing the mood, she realized it wasn't the case.'
Quick on the uptake meant she had plenty of ideas swirling in her head.
And that, in turn, meant fewer mistakes, fewer failures, and a higher chance of devising paths to success.
"Father."
"Yes, Hwi-ya. It's you, isn't it?"
A short call, but Baek Mu-ryang grasped the meaning immediately.
At that moment, the chief steward's face lit up with delight.
"The young master again?"
"Yes. Though calling it 'again' makes it sound like I've caused trouble. But yes, it's me once more."
The chief steward's lips curved upward automatically.
The reason was simple.
"How much this time?"
As the one managing the family's internal and external affairs and handling the household finances, the chief steward had naturally been informed by Baek Mu-ryang about the source of the silver he'd distributed to the servants a few days prior.
And from that moment, he had become Yang-hwi's staunchest supporter.
'How hard it's been scraping by with such meager income all this time!'
Yet the boy had brought in a whopping 2,500 nyang of silver by himself!
A child's body, earning half a year's income for the entire Baek family!
Stewards like him would pledge loyalty to even the Demonic Cult's vile spawn if it meant more money flowed in.
Naturally, Yang-hwi had become more precious to him than his own eyes.
"At least 10,000 nyang."
The chief steward's eyes widened at Yang-hwi's whisper.
He shoved Yang-hwi toward Chu Yong-wol.
"Ahem. Young master Hwi. Please escort Miss Chu at once."
Despite his polite words, he made a surreptitious gesture visible only to Yang-hwi, away from Baek Mu-ryang's eyes.
Whatever it was, squeeze her for all she's worth—that was the unspoken command.
'Chief Steward Han... you've been through a lot.'
A man usually so dignified and etiquette-bound, reduced to gambler's hand signals.
If he knew it was 10,000 nyang in gold, not silver, he'd probably faint.
10,000 nyang in gold—even the Five Great Clans couldn't handle that lightly.
But the potential value of today's dealings exceeded even that.
"Miss Chu."
Yang-hwi called to her and offered a fist-and-palm salute.
Admiration flickered in Chu Yong-wol's eyes.
"And who might the young master be?"
"I'm Yang-hwi of the Baek family. I know where the person you're seeking is. Please follow me."
Chu Yong-wol quickly scanned the surroundings once more. The flicker in her eyes deepened.
'A child steps forward, yet the family head and what looks like the steward stand by without protest. This boy is no ordinary child.'
"Thank you for your consideration, young master."
Yang-hwi led Chu Yong-wol to his room and shut the door tight to prevent any sound from leaking out.
"Young master? Didn't you say you knew where One Stroke Sweeps All was? But it's just the two of us here?"
Chu Yong-wol feigned confusion, but Yang-hwi knew she had already guessed the truth.
She hadn't mentioned the pen name again after reading the mood—yet now she uttered it casually.
"No one else is here, so no need for reservations."
An empty room means no qualms. A line from a conversation between the protagonist and his master, Il Il-ri-hang, in the novel Yang-hwi had sent—Eastern Westerly Saga, quoting an open-hearted exchange.
Chu Yong-wol's face froze in shock.
Even so, she didn't drop her last shred of doubt.
"You know a part of Eastern Westerly Saga. But I can't tell if you're truly One Stroke Sweeps All or just an agent. So, please prove it."
She wanted proof that he was the author himself. No problem there.
He pulled out prepared blank books and took up brush and ink.
The time it took Yang-hwi to pour out the entire third story onto the blank pages: a mere two quarters of an hour.
"The title... let's call it Pure Sword Spans a Thousand Miles. Please read it, miss."
Chu Yong-wol carefully took the book and began reading.
Soon, her body started trembling.
After turning the final page, she let out a deep sigh.
"Is this why they call you One Stroke Sweeps All?"
A miracle of writing a whole book in one sitting from his seat—truly deserving of the name.
Especially when it brimmed with both wonder and delight.
"A feat unbelievable even to witness with one's own eyes. How could someone so young achieve this..."
"The world is vast, and geniuses who astonish it have always existed."
In truth, it was thanks to his past life's memories, but Yang-hwi replied with shameless confidence.
Watching him, Chu Yong-wol sighed once more.
"Proclaiming yourself a once-in-an-age genius? Yet I can't call it arrogance. Let me ask: why did you send me that letter, young master?"
Now came the real beginning.
"To sell the books and make money, of course."
"Are you aware that tales like novels are mostly spread orally by storytellers, not sold as books?"
"Of course."
"To sell them as books, you'd need to hire a woodblock carver to engrave hundreds or thousands of characters for printing plates. Then print on expensive paper and bind them into volumes."
In other words, it cost a fortune to produce.
"Even if you sold romance tales as books, people would prefer hearing them from storytellers who've read them."
True enough. Selling romance tales as books didn't add up financially and had clear limits—not ideal business.
But.
'In his past life, One Stroke Sweeps All shattered every constraint. With nothing but the sheer fun of his stories.'
That was likely why Chu Yong-wol had rushed to the Baek estate at dawn.
She saw the value. She saw the profits.
Her current negativity was just a merchant gearing up for negotiation.
"If you think that, why did you come?"
"...It piqued my interest. It's been ages since I read something this fun."
'One more push. But I won't yield, miss.'
"Ah, so you wanted to meet the author. Now that you have, will you head back?"
"..."
Chu Yong-wol couldn't bring herself to say yes.
Yang-hwi grinned at her.
"No need for haggling between those in the know, miss."
Chu Yong-wol thought to herself.
Those in the know? Words from a boy not even ten?
"...Young master, you're remarkably mature for your age—in every way."
"Thank you. Let's speak openly from here on."
"Fine. Straight to the point: I want the Hundred Books Rare Bookstore to publish your stories as books and sell them."
"Agreed."
His immediate acceptance left Chu Yong-wol momentarily flustered.
He'd acted like a sly old fox until now, yet he agreed in an instant.
"I only intended to contract with the Hundred Books Rare Bookstore from the start. The letter went only to you."
Though she kept her composure, Yang-hwi read her emotions from her face.
Pride. And confidence.
'Still young, after all. But impressive enough. If only she'd pass one final test.'
Yang-hwi gazed steadily at Chu Yong-wol.
And moments later, he felt inner satisfaction.
"Forty percent of the branch's shares. The best terms the Hundred Books Rare Bookstore can offer."
"Pass."
"Pardon?"
"Nothing. Just misspeaking what I meant to say yes to."
The reason he'd accepted the deal outright and admitted sending the letter only to her.
He had other options and no intention of bargaining over terms.
Chu Yong-wol had read that intent perfectly.
"Forty percent of the branch's shares. Excellent."
After drawing up the contract's details, Yang-hwi posed a question.
"Now that we've contracted, may I ask how you plan to sell the books?"
"We'll display the three novels in the most prominent spot at the Hundred Books Rare Bookstore."
"Standard sales method, then."
"Do you have a better idea, young master?"
Of course. Not one he'd devised himself, but the method One Stroke Sweeps All had used in his future to sell his own books.
"Since you're using woodblock printing, you'll print more if they sell well, right?"
"Yes. Printing in bulk upfront requires too much initial capital."
"I'd do it like this: label them First Edition, Second Edition, and so on, in printing order."
Sharp as she was, Chu Yong-wol grasped it immediately.
"Assigning value through scarcity! Brilliant!"
"And in each edition, I'd sign only ten copies."
Taking up brush and ink, Yang-hwi swiftly wrote eight characters.
Pen Name: One Stroke Sweeps All.
His calligraphy was so fluid, it was hard to believe it came from an eight-year-old.
"Signed copies go only to the first ten buyers of each edition."
"...Young master."
"Yes?"
"Have you ever considered joining the Hundred Books Rare Bookstore?"
Chu Yong-wol was genuinely awed by Yang-hwi's business acumen.
Imbuing a few items with meaning elevated the value of all. It stirred collectors' desires.
And what that implied was.
"You're not just selling books with stories in them. You're selling intangible value through them."
Sell books with unparalleled tales.
Make everyone in the world crave ownership of those books.
Ensure hearing from storytellers no longer satisfies.
Wouldn't that bring in far more money?
"What a great idea. Then—we must adorn the books with gold thread, make them luxurious. To amplify that elevated value."
"Raise the price too. Our branch profits will grow accordingly."
"Sales by membership... no, that's not feasible yet. But this way, we'd need far more seed capital... Still... still..."
Chu Yong-wol muttered to herself, devising plans nonstop.
Watching her, Yang-hwi smiled warmly.
"Miss Chu. I'd like to make another contract."
"What?"
"Pushing for luxury will burden the Hundred Books Rare Bookstore more. I want to share the load. I'll invest 4,000 nyang of silver in the store."
"What?!"
Chu Yong-wol's eyes went wide as saucers.
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