He began his climb up the mountain again, only to find that Yeongmu Store had closed its doors. It seemed even this small shop couldn’t escape the financial crisis.

  ‘Same location, same building. The Dosa is something else. If he made that much money, he could have moved or at least rebuilt the place.’

  He entertained the thought for a moment before smiling bitterly to himself.

  ‘Am I really in a position to be worrying about others?’

  As he opened the gate to the Saju Philosophy Studio, he saw a crowd of people still lined up in the yard, waiting their turn. Just then, a refined-looking woman approached him.

  Exuding a faint scent of ink and dressed in a white hanbok, she possessed an aura so poised she could have been mistaken for a shaman. She greeted him with a smile.

  “Ah, sir! You’ve arrived. Did you have an appointment?”

  He couldn't answer immediately.

  ‘I just wanted to see the Dosa one last time... but it looks like that’ll be difficult.’

  Finally, he spoke. “No. There are so many guests today. I’ll come back another time.”

  As he turned to leave, she caught him.

  “You’re in a hurry. That’s why you came without an appointment. Actually, the Dosa told me to let you in immediately whenever you arrived, regardless of the queue.”

  “No... it’s fine...”

  Ignoring his protest, she smiled and addressed the crowd.

  “This guest has a very urgent matter. Would you mind if I let him in first?”

  The people were more generous than expected. They knew this woman usually made everyone follow the rules, regardless of wealth or status. Since she was making such a request, they all assumed it was a true emergency and stepped aside.

  “He must have come from far away. Our Dosa is the real deal, isn't he? Well, I’m just here to check my son’s Saju before his wedding!”

  Even with their kindness, it took another hour of waiting before he finally stood before the Dosa.

  “What took you so long? Why do you always stay away when it matters most?”

  The Dosa spoke the moment he saw the man’s face. At those words, the man burst into uncontrollable tears.

  “You idiot. Don't cry. Why do you always start blubbering the moment you see me? This is a Saju Philosophy Studio, not a funeral home. Save those tears for when I actually die.”

  Hearing this, the man only sobbed harder. He was filled with resentment toward the situation, having to watch everything he had worked for his entire life crumble before his eyes.

  “I’m not playing games with dates this time. From today, it’ll be exactly four years. Take back the consultation fee you brought today. That was your last bit of cash, wasn't it?”

  The man choked out a reply.

  “I couldn't stop the debt this time. I’m facing bankruptcy. It’s not four years... I don't think I can even last four days.”

  As the man spoke, the Dosa gave him a knowing smile.

  “Do you remember that money? The money I asked to borrow from you?”

  “Yes, I remember. But when you didn't pay it back, I figured you just weren't ready, so I didn't think much of it.”

  “Can’t you use that money to put out the fire?”

  “No. I didn't lend you that money—I gave it to you. Besides, that amount isn't enough to fix this.”

  The Dosa laughed.

  “You idiot. You live like such a pushover that I got frustrated and shook you down just to set that money aside for you. I knew you’d let it all slip through your fingers otherwise. Do you know why I kept you outside for an hour?”

  The man couldn't grasp the Dosa’s cryptic words. The Dosa shouted toward the door.

  “Tell him to come in!”

  As the Dosa shouted, a man in a suit entered the room. The moment he stepped into the consulting room, he performed a deep bow to the Dosa.

  “It’s been a long time, Dosa-nim!”

  The man clearly carried himself like someone of high standing, but the Dosa didn't even look at him. He simply barked, “I didn't call you here for a greeting. How much is in my balance and my wife’s bank account? Is it about a billion won?”

  The man in the suit replied, “It’s significantly more than that. However, your personal balance is only the 300 million won you deposited last year. The rest is all in your wife’s accounts.”

  “Is that so? Can all of it be transferred today?”

  “Yes. I’ve already put the staff on standby for it. But... if your wife finds out...”

  The Dosa looked at him as if he were being absurd.

  “Are you looking down on me? Do I look like an idiot who can't manage his own wife? What? Should I change banks so I don't look like such a fool?”

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  “Ah... No! I’ll get it done!”

  The Dosa handed over his wife’s personal seal and his own to the man.

  “Give him your account number,” the Dosa said to the businessman.

  “What?”

  Suddenly, a flicker of hope appeared. Tears streamed down the man’s face again.

  [Waaaaaaah!]

  The Dosa spoke to the sobbing man with gruff affection.

  “Stop blubbering. Cry any more and you’ll lose your man card. Not that you were doing much with it anyway.”

  He then looked at the man in the suit, who appeared to be a bank branch manager.

  “Give this fellow whatever amount he needs. Do exactly as he asks.”

  The man couldn't stop his tears. The Dosa spoke to him firmly.

  “If you ever feel like giving up, don't you dare die come find me. I’ll sell the shirt off my back, and even my damn pants, if that’s what it takes to save you. What use is money? A man has to stay alive first.”

  Then, the Dosa’s expression turned dead serious.

  “The interest is tenfold. Got it? I’m a loan shark, after all. You’re taking out a private loan in front of me right now.”

  The man started to laugh through his tears.

  “Instead of dying because you lost everything, if you ever feel that way again, just come to me. Thanks to guys like you, I’ve saved up a little bit.”

  The bank manager seized the moment to do some business.

  “With your wife’s buildings and other assets, a mortgage loan is quite possible. The Dosa isn't just making empty promises.”

  The Dosa laughed.

  “I shake down this guy to give to a fellow who's about to die. Then I shake down that guy to give to this one. Money is meant to move around, not to be sat upon. That’s why it’s called 'currency' it flows!”

  And so, he endured for four years.

  His competitors all went bankrupt due to the capital crunch. When the harsh financial crisis finally ended, his company met an unprecedented boom.

  The Dosa hadn't just stopped at lending him that money.

  In the final year, when the businessman’s son needed college tuition, the Dosa called them in and gave them a significant amount of money to pay for the tuition and buy the boy a proper suit.

  Of course, he said the same thing then.

  “Pay this back tenfold, too. And the son must pay this back himself. I’m a loan shark. I’m not helping you for free, you hear me? You two are my top-tier VIP customers.”

  The businessman and his son felt a deep, sincere gratitude.

  After finding such success, the businessman went back to the Saju Philosophy Studio with ten times the amount. The Dosa said.

  “What use is this much money to an old man about to kick the bucket? Just go buy your son and grandson some more snacks. And you don't need to come up here anymore. Your company will flourish even in your son’s generation.”

  The man, now a Chairman, replied, “You have to look at my son’s chart too. I’ll keep coming.”

  Of course, on the night he lent that money, the Dosa was tormented by his wife all night long. He had to grovel for a month after that.

  After the funeral ended, the elderly gentleman left the largest condolence gift. The amount was so vast that everyone felt burdened, but he simply said.

  “It’s my final consultation fee. He is a man who more than deserves to receive it.”

  However, there is a part of the story the elderly gentleman doesn't know. There was a reason Grandpa told him to pay it back tenfold.

  “Grandpa, why do you lend such large amounts of money to strangers?”

  “If I don't, they’ll die. That’s why.”

  I couldn't understand.

  “Money can kill people, but if it’s placed in the right spot, it can save someone who was destined to die. So, I sent the money to that spot.”

  “Then you could just give it to them. You don't need to make them pay back ten times the amount.”

  Grandpa told me I didn't know the world and explained.

  “You say that because you don't know. If I told people I’m giving them money because they look like they’re about to die, do you think they’d be happy? Their pride would be so wounded they’d kill themselves right in front of me.”

  “Pardon?”

  “It’s worse for those who ran big businesses. And even worse for those who are decent people.”

  “Then why ask for ten times the amount? You could just ask for two or three times?”

  Grandpa laughed heartily.

  “If someone told you to pay back tenfold, would you do it?”

  “No? Are you crazy? Even if I succeeded, I’d pretend I didn't know them. Why would I pay that back?”

  “Exactly. If it’s only two or three times, people think about coming back once they’ve recovered a little. But if you call for ten times, they don't even think about coming back until they’ve achieved massive success.”

  “So, you lent it without expecting to get it back?”

  “If I told them to just pay the principal, even those who could have done better might stop after just paying me back. But if I tell them to pay tenfold, they’ll keep striving until that amount is no longer a burden, won't they?”

  That was Grandpa’s logic.

  However, in most cases, even if people told others that their success was all thanks to the Saju Philosophy Studio, they rarely returned because they didn't want to pay back ten times the money. Most of them simply never showed their faces again.

  Still, there were those who would stubbornly seek him out anyway, paying back the money they weren't legally bound to return, just to keep their bond of faith alive. Grandpa believed that those were the people he should stand by and help for the rest of his life.

  A man arrived at the Saju Philosophy Studio in a truck.

  “Hey. This the Saju Philosophy Studio or what?”

  He spat out the question with a coarse, informal tone, clearly looking down on me because of my age. At a glance, he looked like some kind of peddler, so I didn't answer.

  ‘You don't have to answer the rude ones. I’d rather not do business with them. If those guys come in, they’re just a headache. Cut them off at the entrance.’

  Those were Grandpa’s usual words.

  Of course, Grandma would nag him to take every guest so they could finally leave these mountains, but I didn't like those kinds of guests either.

  When people like that enter, they inevitably cause trouble. I liked the Saju Philosophy Studio being quiet. When I didn't respond, he spoke.

  “Ah, damn it. My luck is so bad even a brat like this is ignoring me.”

  He spat out verbal abuse. I ignored him. Soon, Grandma appeared.

  “Why are you keeping your mouth shut when a guest is here? This one is turning out exactly like his grandfather after living with him, isn't he? Keep that up, and you’ll have me to answer to!”

  As she said this, Grandma led him to Grandpa.

  Unlike how he had acted in front of me, the man from the truck behaved as if he were a kind and innocent soul in front of Grandpa.

  “I worked so hard without sleeping, but now even my last tool of the trade, my truck, has been seized as collateral. I just want to die.”

  Hearing his words, a sneer naturally formed on my face. He wasn't the type to kill anyone, nor was he the type to commit suicide. I knew this because he was a textbook example of the last of the Eight Methods of Human Physiognomy, which is known as Sok-tak-ji-sang, or the appearance of vulgarity and turbidity.

  When observing a face according to the Ten Methods of Inference, there is a specific order to follow. First, you observe the person’s dignity and inner law. Next, you look for sincerity and spirit. Finally, you examine the clarity and turbidity to see whether the person is clear or muddy. From beginning to end, that truck driver didn't have a good face at all.