Chapter 12: Clue
Backed by the full support of Trading Lord Eun Hwaran, I was given full authority over the sericulture chamber.
Just yesterday, I was a mere warehouse assistant breaking my back hauling cargo.
And the first thing I did upon gaining authority was to change the location of the hatchery.
“You brat! Warm Yang energy is essential for growing sprouts!”
At that, the workshop chief flew into a rage and protested.
He insisted that only under sunlight could illness and Yin energy be dispelled, allowing for proper growth.
But silkworms weren’t photosynthesizing plants.
Besides, even humans go crazy when they have to stand in direct sunlight listening to a principal’s speech for an hour—how much worse must it be for these thin-skinned creatures?
“Eun Hwaran Noonim.”
But explaining and convincing them was too much hassle, so I decided to swing the sword of authority.
“Workshop Chief, things weren’t working with the current method anyway. So let’s try it my way just once. That child seems to know something.”
With the highest authority in the company backing me, I felt invincible.
The grumbling middle-aged workshop chief instantly fell silent.
“Of course, if it turns out he doesn’t know anything, then at that time…”
Why trail off at the end when things were going well? It’s unsettling for those listening.
A flash of concern passed through their eyes, as if things would get serious if I were bluffing.
But I, this body, don’t flinch.
Dan Mujin, the real man, believes in proving through action, not persuasion.
That’s how I’ve earned the trust of my clients so far.
So onward, ever onward.
“So, what’s next?”
In response to Eun Hwaran’s question, I pointed at the silkworm frames piled high with silkworm dung and mulberry leaves.
“First, let’s relearn how to clean the silkworm droppings.”
Before preventing pests, we must first prevent human error.
I picked up the shed skin of a third-instar silkworm.
Then, I explained in detail how silkworms cling to mulberry leaves to molt and how forcibly removing them could cause them to suffocate and die.
“So, all those silkworms dying when we changed the leaves…”
“Was because of us?”
Correct, silkworm handler.
They had excellent deductive skills for recognizing their own mistakes.
“Also, you need to lay oiled paper soaked in water on the silkworm frames to control humidity, and adjust the opening times of the windows to manage lighting.”
They weren’t hardy wild silkmoths.
Domesticated silkworms were like ocean sunfish—fragile to the extreme.
Having lost most of their survival capabilities, they needed human care and attention.
So I explained in detail the optimal humidity, ventilation, and lighting conditions for silkworm breeding.
These were all things I had researched back when I dreamed of making a fortune.
Once I get obsessed with something, I dig into it like a maniac—that’s my incurable disease.
Even as a troubleshooter, I dug so deep I ended up getting stabbed in the gut.
Anyway.
“Mujin, what’s next?”
A little kid was bringing a revolution to the sericulture chamber.
It wasn’t yet clear whether the path was right.
Eun Hwaran tapped my shoulder, asking about my next move.
The visit from the imperial inspector was only a few months away, and she seemed anxious.
We’d already removed the direct sunlight that had killed half the silkworms, improved humidity and lighting management, and taught them proper dung cleaning.
Even just this should increase the silkworm survival rate by about 50%.
But to reach the promised 70%, there was one vicious cycle we absolutely had to break.
“For silkworms to survive, the hands that touch them must be clean. So please prepare water and soap.”
I grabbed the calloused, grime-covered hands of the workers as I spoke.
They probably used these hands for wiping and eating alike.
Unclean hands were the source of bacterial transmission.
“Soap? That fancy thing noble ladies use to wash their faces?”
“What does that have to do with silkworms…?”
Soap in this era was made by burning shellfish, crushing chinaberry fruits, and hardening the mixture with pig fat.
With even edible oil in short supply, such toiletries were considered luxuries and quite expensive.
The workers all turned to Eun Hwaran, eyes asking if it was really okay to follow such costly advice.
“I’ve bought some scented soap for sale. We’ll use that.”
Fortunately, the Trading Lord decided to support it generously.
Some still gave suspicious looks, but I ignored them.
Back on Earth, even elementary school kids learn this: water removes water-soluble bacteria, soap removes fat-soluble ones.
“And to sterilize silkworm equipment, we’ll need a lot of strong liquor. I’d appreciate it if you could requisition that too.”
For alcohol to have meaningful disinfectant power, it must be at least 45 proof.
But naturally brewed drinks like makgeolli or Shaoxing wine rarely exceeded 20 proof due to yeast limits.
So I planned to distill it vigorously and refine it into strong ethanol.
Like that one streamer who made 50-proof liquor from convenience store beer.
If we sterilized everything that touched the silkworms, their survival rate would skyrocket without further massacres.
We might even exceed the promised 70%.
“But Mujin, most of that liquor is in the cargo carts as goods, and the rest is reserved for Hwang Noya…”
“That old man needs to quit drinking anyway.”
I meant that.
He drinks without even losing his buzz. At this rate, he might actually meet that Primordial Heavenly Lord or whoever soon.
“Trading Lord, do you really believe all this nonsense?”
Some workers voiced cautious objections.
Eun Hwaran gazed steadily into my confident eyes and sighed quietly.
“Let’s proceed according to the boy’s words for now.”
Her few words silenced all opposition.
Truly an unrivaled authority in this company.
A strong-willed woman who always makes a decisive cut once she draws her sword.
“Go to the warehouse and bring out all the liquor.”
Reliable, this Eun bloodline.
I silently applauded the bulldozer-like dictator.
Hurrah. Hurrah. Hurrah.
Hwang Geolgae lifted his body off the cold stone floor.
His cheek was molded to the ground’s shape, and his hair was a wild mess.
“Mmgh… that brat still isn’t back…”
Wondering what was taking so long, he grabbed a manager to ask, only to learn that Trading Lord Eun Hwaran had taken the kid.
She later sent word saying she’d borrow him for a while and return him soon.
So he sent a reply saying to return him by night since he needed to resume his cultivation.
“The sun’s already up.”
Before the hangover wore off completely, he needed to drink some hair-of-the-dog.
“If I’d just had one more drink… just one more bottle… I might’ve seen that Primordial Heavenly Lord again…”
Wobbling and reeking of booze, Hwang Geolgae shuffled toward the Eunseong Trading Company’s warehouse.
The old man staggered in a miraculous and strange gait, swaying as if to collapse yet never quite falling.
It resembled the Drunken Fist of the Beggars’ Union.
“…Back again?”
The warehouse keeper didn’t look pleased with Hwang Geolgae, who treated this place like his own home, but had no choice but to open the warehouse door wide, as per orders.
“Hehe, hlehle.”
That tipsy feeling.
Hwang Geolgae clutched his empty stomach and walked in, smiling like a hungry guest entering an inn.
“Today, let’s go with the well-aged Yeoahong… Hm?”
And then Hwang Geolgae doubted his own eyes.
The warehouse, which should’ve been filled with all sorts of liquor, was completely empty.
“What… the hell?”
Not even cheap takju remained, let alone Shaoxing wine.
Buying more was out of the question—he didn’t have a single coin on him.
“No, why, how?”
In other words, he would have to spend the day sober.
As Hwang Geolgae took in the sight created by a disciple’s suggestion, his consciousness began to drift.
That harsh reality was steadily sobering him up.
“Heuh… Ueuuuh…”
It was the groan of someone trying to deny reality.
Today, Hwang Geolgae’s world collapsed.
Dan Mujin’s sericulture rebuilding project.
That is, Dunkinji Consulting had been running for about a month.
And some results were finally showing.
“Whoa, when did the silkworms become like this…”
“They’re swarming!”
Scratch, scratch.
The sound of silkworms munching on mulberry leaves filled the entire chamber.
After we adjusted the silkworm racks according to my advice, sterilized them, and replaced the mulberry leaves properly, the mortality rate of the silkworms dropped drastically.
That, in turn, led to an explosive increase in their numbers.
“We really were raising them wrong, huh…”
“That little brat’s practically a certified sericulture officer.”
“Just what is that kid anyway?”
There had been plenty of twists and turns, but once the effects of my guidance became obvious, the attitudes around me softened considerably.
Now, even without Eun Hwaran’s command, they responded promptly to my words.
Since their own jobs were on the line, everyone became diligent and quick learners.
Right, they were perfectly capable folks.
They had only lacked the relevant knowledge.
After all, in this place, most information was passed down orally.
If the state chose to hide something, there was no way to find out.
It made me appreciate Earth, where a single click could pull up endless information.
Thus, the sericulture work sped forward as if driven by a warm breeze.
“Ooh, the silkworms are moving.”
“They’re going into that frame the kid made, all on their own. Amazing.”
We had successfully raised the seed silkworms into fifth-instar silkworms as thick as fingers.
Finally, they had matured into golden silkworms and were crawling right into the rotating frames I had designed.
Perhaps the shape and size of the frame were perfect, because once the silkworms climbed up, they curled their bodies and began spinning silk into pristine white cocoons.
“Wow, I can’t believe we saved this many.”
Seeing the first frame nearly filled, one worker let out a gasp of admiration.
It was a yield they hadn’t seen before.
“Noonim, now that we have some breathing room, why don’t we try spinning some silk?”
We had more than enough silkworms for hatching.
Actually, we had more than we needed.
Before, the survival rate of fifth-instar silkworms had been so low that it was a struggle just to maintain the line.
But now, everything had changed.
So I made the suggestion to raise morale.
People need visible proof of progress to feel accomplished.
“Give it a try.”
Eun Hwaran nodded, intrigued.
Once we had the Trading Lord’s approval, the weavers—who had been sitting around with nothing to do since there was no silk—rushed toward me.
“The tools for spinning are ready, sir.”
“Please let this work.”
These were the technicians of the sericulture chamber.
Their jobs depended on silk production, and without silk, they felt guilty just collecting wages.
Now that I seemed to have resolved that issue, their eyes sparkled with hope.
“Not ‘sir.’ Just call me Dan Mujin.”
I picked up a few cocoons wrapped in silk and approached the prepared tools.
Around me, eyes full of anticipation gathered.
Everything was in place: spinning wheels, fine reels, and tools for winding silk.
The only issue had been the silkworms themselves.
Well, raising living things was like farming—you couldn’t just will them to grow.
“First, we need to find the starting strand on the cocoon.”
I floated the cocoons on hot, steaming lye water.
This would melt the sticky sericin coating the cocoon, making it easier to unravel the thread, while revealing the fibroin inside.
The fibroin refracted light, producing that distinctive silk sheen we all recognize.
“Ooh, the color changed.”
“It’s really shiny, just like the Trading Lord’s clothes.”
The workers marveled at the elegant shine.
They were seeing the raw material for noble silk garments with their own eyes—it was no wonder they were amazed.
With everyone watching, I unveiled the next piece of knowledge.
I poked the cocoon gently with a small broom-like tool.
After a dozen or so pokes, I felt something slightly catch on the bristled tip.
I lifted the tool above the water basin, and something white, smooth, and long revealed itself.
“Mujin, don’t tell me that’s…”
Eun Hwaran grabbed my shoulder, her face filled with astonishment.
When we solve a difficult problem, we say we’ve “found the clue.”
“I found it—the clue.”
The first strand that would revive this embattled Eunseong Trading Company.
That clue shyly clung to the broom and revealed itself to the world.