Chapter 3: The Fist King is Recovering
The Fist King is Recovering
Episode 3: The Fist King is Recovering
After staving off his hunger with rice gruel, Dan Woo-sung wandered around the villa, assessing its layout.
The villa was larger than he had expected.
It didn't seem built solely for pleasure—rather, it appeared to be a vacation home owned by the wealthy Silver River Merchant Group. Behind the main building stood a solitary annex, empty save for its bare walls. It was spacious enough to be repurposed into an indoor training hall.
To the right of the villa were several storage rooms stocked with food ingredients, alcohol, medicinal herbs, and an assortment of unidentified plants. Upon inquiring with the servants, he learned that some of these plants were akin to narcotics—hallucinogenic herbs far more potent than the tobacco sold in the markets.
The only useful find was the medicinal herb storage.
Though none qualified as true elixirs, the merchant group's wealth had secured high-quality ginseng and tonics, all haphazardly piled together. Consuming them now would backfire, but once his health recovered, they would prove beneficial.
The location itself was ideal.
The fault lay with Lee Jin-eon for failing to utilize it properly.
In the worst possible physical condition, he had indulged in women, gorged himself on meat and alcohol, and even dabbled in hallucinogens—effectively ensuring his swift departure from this world.
A thought crossed Dan Woo-sung's mind:
Lee Jin-eon must have suffered from mental illness as well. Anxiety, panic, fear—these emotions must have dominated his psyche.
What had he been so afraid of?
What had displeased him so deeply?
Who had sent him to this villa?
A premonition settled in: once he returned to the main estate, there would be plenty of faces deserving of a good thrashing. Beating people was, after all, the Fist King's specialty. The anticipation made his heart race like a child awaiting a festival.
Dan Woo-sung was, unavoidably, on Lee Jin-eon's side.
He intended to thoroughly clean up the mess that had tormented the young man.
Perhaps the culprits were his so-called brothers. Or maybe figures within the merchant group with vested interests.
Regardless, Lee Jin-eon was no longer the same person.
By the time he returned to the main estate, he would be a man in full health. Dan Woo-sung wasn't the type to focus solely on cultivating internal energy. Even with just external techniques, he was confident in his ability to fight.
A plan formed in his mind: seize control of the merchant group, acquire large quantities of elixirs to rapidly rebuild his internal energy, and ascend beyond his former self.
The Fist King of his past life had never cared for wealth.
Accumulating and hoarding riches held no appeal for him. But now that he had become the heir of the Silver River Merchant Group, he might as well indulge in what others called "reckless spending."
Money was merely a means to an end—one that would propel him beyond his former glory.
For seven days, Dan Woo-sung focused on posture correction, dietary adjustments, and breathing techniques.
By the eighth day, he finally stepped outside the villa for a walk.
His stamina had noticeably improved, and the frequency of cold sweats had drastically decreased.
Most strikingly, the servants were visibly shocked by the Grand Prince's transformation. As they attempted to follow him on his stroll, Dan Woo-sung waved them off.
"Enough. I'll walk alone. Go back inside."
"Are you sure you'll be alright?"
He nodded dismissively. His condition was far better than they realized.
The first stage of recovery had been as uneventful as a babbling brook.
He ate rice gruel, abstained from alcohol, and drank lukewarm water as if cleansing his insides.
The next stage was walking. He strolled until his digestive organs functioned properly, gurgling in satisfaction.
Now, the servants no longer reacted with surprise. Even the physician, who had previously worn a puzzled expression, merely greeted him with polite inquiries about his rest.
Though Mount Jiuhua's terrain was rugged, he estimated he'd be able to run within days. After working up a full-body sweat, he returned to the villa. His activity level had surpassed his dietary intake, prompting him to consider readjusting his meals.
Upon his return, a familiar-faced servant approached him hesitantly.
"Young Master."
"What is it?"
"Since your health is recovering so swiftly, should we send word to the main estate...?"
Dan Woo-sung cut him off.
"Unnecessary. I'm not fully recovered yet. If correspondence is needed, I'll handle it myself."
The servant, already unnerved by the prince's abrupt change in speech, grew even more fearful.
"Understood."
"Also, I've noticed supplies arriving from outside occasionally."
"Yes, shipments from the main estate arrive once every fortnight."
"If anyone asks, tell them I'm still recovering. Pass that along to the other servants."
"Understood."
There was no need to broadcast his recovery prematurely.
It suddenly occurred to Dan Woo-sung that he had no idea what Lee Jin-eon's father, family, or brothers looked like. Though he'd gleaned their names from correspondence, meeting them in person would undoubtedly be awkward.
As he turned toward his quarters, he called out to the servant.
"Do we have anyone here who can draw?"
"I'll find someone. Shall I send them to your chambers?"
"Do so."
When the summoned servant arrived, Dan Woo-sung issued his instructions.
"You'll be sketching portraits."
"Yes, sir."
Given that the Grand Prince had been idle in the villa for so long, the servant didn't question the odd request.
"Shall I start with your family members?"
"No, not necessarily just them. I heard you have skill, so I thought of portraits. Sketch the faces of those around me—my father, brothers, especially the troublemakers. Seeing their faces might... aid my recovery."
"Huh? Troublemakers...?"
"Yes, that's the feeling. The urge to punch them. To strike them. That kind of emotion fuels the fists, and with it, recovery comes faster."
The sheer absurdity delivered in such a grave tone left the servant flustered.
But if the Grand Prince said so, it must be true.
The servant smiled nervously.
"Understood."
Then, realizing his slip, he hastily covered his mouth and bowed.
"My apologies."
Dan Woo-sung smirked.
"No harm done. Laughter isn't a crime."
"Ah, then... who should I draw first?"
"Whoever you can draw best. And remember—these sketches focus on defining features, not fine details. A mole on the forehead, a receding hairline—capture the essentials. Understood?"
"Yes, sir. I understand."
"Tell me when each one is finished."
"Yes, sir."
As the servant sketched, Dan Woo-sung adjusted his posture.
After a while, he noticed the servant staring at him intently.
"Stop gawking and draw."
"Ah, yes!"
The servant tilted his head and picked up the brush.
'He's definitely changed.'
Dan Woo-sung was performing a series of bizarre stretches—flexing his limbs, loosening his joints—each movement accompanied by soft pops.
Yet this strangeness wasn't unpleasant.
The Grand Prince's expression and tone had shifted, as if infused with a refreshing breeze. Given his already handsome face, the transformation wasn't unwelcome.
As Dan Woo-sung continued his moonlit exercises...
The servant began with the first face that came to mind: the Second Prince.
The Second Prince, Lee Hwa-eon, was as handsome as the Grand Prince himself, dignified in conduct and refined in speech—making him the most popular among the merchant group's heirs.
Starting with the easiest subject would help warm up his skills.
Soon, Dan Woo-sung paused his stretches to examine the sketch.
"Well done. Label each portrait with a title and your name."
"A title?"
"Yes. Every painting needs a title. For portraits, simply note whose it is. And credit the artist. Who knows? Your work might fetch a high price someday."
The servant's eyes widened.
"My—my drawings?"
Dan Woo-sung chuckled.
"You know nothing of the world. Just like me once..."
Bewildered but intrigued, the servant momentarily lost himself in fantasies of his art's potential value.
"Understood. Just a moment..."
He inscribed beneath the sketch: "Second Prince Lee Hwa-eon, Chief Administrator", followed by his own name, "Myohyang."
Dan Woo-sung nodded approvingly.
"Perfect."
"Yes, sir."
"Though you've drawn the Second Prince far too handsomely."
"He's even more handsome in person."
"Ah, is that so?"
"Of course, Young Master, you are the most handsome. The two of you resemble each other greatly."
Dan Woo-sung smiled.
"Too late. I'll expect the same treatment when it's my turn."
The servant's voice shrank under the pressure.
"Yes, sir."
"From now on, forget menial tasks. Focus on practicing your art."
"Huh? But what about the workload—?"
"How many servants are even attached to this villa? Enough chatter. Do as you're told."
"Understood."
"You truly have talent."
The servant flushed at the praise.
"Then I shall strive to improve further."
"Good."
Dan Woo-sung resumed his posture drills. Sitting on the bedding, he stretched into various positions, joints occasionally cracking.
With this level of skill, the servant wouldn't fail to capture the likenesses of those Lee Jin-eon had known.
"You've worked hard. Go rest."
"Yes, Young Master. Shall I return tomorrow evening?"
"No. From now on, sketch in your own quarters under my orders. Draw everyone you can. It'll be good practice."
"Understood."
Once the servant left, Dan Woo-sung examined the portraits.
He paid particular attention to the sketch of the man leading the Silver River Merchant Group—Lee Jin-eon's father.
Though rendered by a servant, the emphasis on defining features—the shape of his head, his lips, his eyes—allowed Dan Woo-sung to roughly gauge the kind of man he was.
'He looks like a diligent worker. Yet he built such an empire. Unless he inherited it...'
Given the merchant group's scale, it was plausible he hadn't expanded it himself but inherited a family business.
Both younger brothers were handsome.
The Second Prince, Lee Hwa-eon, had the air of a brilliant scholar, while the Third Prince, Lee Ja-eon, bore distinctly different features from his elder brothers.
He exuded martial prowess.
Perhaps they had different mothers. The absence of a maternal portrait suggested Lee Hwa-eon and Lee Jin-eon's mother had already passed.
The most sharply rendered portrait was of the escort team's leader, Guyang Hoo.
"Guyang Hoo leads the escorts?"
Dan Woo-sung recognized the name from the martial world.
The fact that Guyang Hoo held the position spoke volumes. For one, it confirmed the merchant group's immense wealth—Guyang Hoo was a master of the Guyang Clan. Hiring a clan master as an escort commander meant his salary was anything but modest.
But whether he was motivated solely by money remained to be seen.
The Guyang Clan was among the most hardline orthodox factions, predisposed to looking down on merchant groups. The full picture would require investigation upon returning to the main estate.
The rest were merely names and faces—none remarkable, none leaving a lasting impression.