Thousand-Li Escort (2)
Han Bin tapped on the seat, and a sound came from below.
Click.
Seol-hwa's eyes widened at the sight, like a treasure chest opening.
Han Bin slightly lifted the seat, slipped the Cold Iron Box inside, and another click echoed.
Then, as if it were nothing, he pulled the Cold Iron Box right back out.
At the bizarre display, Seol-hwa asked,
"What was that all about?"
"Just checking for a hiding spot. Curious? I'll tell you if you ask."
"You're really gonna tell me?"
Han Bin held out his hand at Seol-hwa's words.
"One silver tael per question, starting price."
"Hah, they say the jianghu is full of folks getting their noses cut off in broad daylight, and here I thought masters didn't cheat their maids."
"Count yourself lucky you got a master like me. The jianghu's crawling with guys who'd slit your throat while your eyes are closed. Blink, and you're done."
Seol-hwa snickered at that.
But her gaze never left the Cold Iron Box.
Han Bin's brief insertion and removal had been too odd.
Still, she tilted her head, then stopped.
Whatever Han Bin was up to was beyond her pay grade.
If he died on this mission, she'd just quietly return to Heukcheon.
If he succeeded?
She'd stick around Cheonsu Manor a bit longer, but the odds of that were slim to none.
Rumors of this journey had spread like wildfire across the jianghu.
The righteous sects might stay out of it, but the unorthodox ones would come charging with fire in their eyes to snatch the Qingming Pill.
One thing puzzled Seol-hwa here.
Paeng Family elders and branch leaders had supposedly leaked the rumors to pressure them, but Han Bin himself had poured the most effort into spreading them.
He'd even asked his master, Hong Chilgae, to disseminate the mission details through the Beggar Clan.
It was like dousing himself in oil and jumping into flames—worse, waiting eagerly for the blaze.
Oblivious to Seol-hwa's thoughts, Han Bin gazed out the window like he was on a picnic, whistling away.
Wheeee.
Seol-hwa shook her head at the tune.
It sounded like he was singing to lure the enemy.
Han Bin suddenly turned, catching her stare.
"What're you gawking at?"
"Don't you think you're way too chill?"
"Should I be sweating bullets in here?"
"Not that, but with treasure like this, we could get ambushed any second, right?"
"You're right about that, Seol-hwa. But if enemies show, we just beat 'em off."
"What if we can't handle them?"
"Then we bail. Easy."
Han Bin shrugged and pointed outside. Seol-hwa narrowed her eyes.
"Did you just say 'bail,' Young Master?"
"Let's be real—why should I or the Henan Jeong Family give a damn?"
"Hmm, well..."
Even Seol-hwa, the assassin, faltered.
Grinning, Han Bin spoke up again.
"Nothing's worth more than our necks. Toss the stupid Cold Iron Box and run. You and me, our lightness skills are top-notch."
"Ah."
Seol-hwa's jaw dropped as she stared at him.
During her time at Cheonsu Manor, she'd missed just three days of Han Bin's antics.
She'd hoped he'd cooked up some genius plan in that time.
But his "plan" was just to hightail it at the first sign of trouble?
Seol-hwa turned to peer outside.
A bearded escort leader followed the carriage with a blank expression.
A mounted guard met her eyes and gave an awkward wave and smile.
The guard's name was Yun Yong-ho.
A ronin-turned-escort, one of the Twelve Escort Leaders who only handled major shipments for the Thousand-Li Escort Agency.
His skills were peak high-grade.
His lightness skill was transcendent-level, earning him his title.
This mission's cargo was simple: one Cold Iron Box.
Even if he had to chuck it to the enemy, he just needed to ensure the cargo's "safety."
If impossible, abandon everything and retreat without hesitation—that was the order from the Rogue King, Yi Se-myeong.
No massive guard force needed, not even the agency's banners.
In short, this wasn't an official escort.
In this odd partnership between Hebei Paeng Family and Thousand-Li Escort Agency, Yun Yong-ho had little to do.
But the maid called Seol-hwa nagged at him oddly.
He had a daughter her age.
Then—
Coo, coo.
Pigeon coos rang from atop the carriage.
Yun Yong-ho, watching Seol-hwa, shifted his gaze upward.
He tilted his head at the roof.
This mission was one weird escort job.
Instead of guards, the roof was packed with pigeon crates fit for messenger birds.
Those were the real cargo—not the Qingming Pill in the Cold Iron Box.
Not Hebei Paeng Family's youngest young master, either.
Common pigeons as escort cargo? Absurd.
* * *
The next day, at Cheonsu Manor.
Everyone who'd received Han Bin's letter sprang into action.
By lunchtime, most had cleared out.
The few stragglers packed frantically.
"Phew..."
Jang Ja-myeong sighed while packing. Yi Mu-myeong tilted his head.
"Why the heavy sighs, Physician Jang?"
"You think I won't sigh on this escort? Finally getting some sweet rest, and now 'follow Young Master Sa with a day's delay'? What is this?"
"Haha, it's the lord's order—might as well smile through it."
"You can say that 'cause your contract's got months left."
Jang Ja-myeong snapped back, slinging his pack and standing.
Yi Mu-myeong grinned amiably and followed.
"Haha."
Jang Ja-myeong didn't look back at the laugh.
Staring at the now-empty Cheonsu Manor felt oddly hollow.
Had it ever been this quiet?
How many patients had he treated nonstop?
Overworked from dawn till dusk.
Plus, at Han Bin's request, deploying every Baekdokmun secret technique for new poison experiments.
In the frenzy, he'd gained new insights.
Ones he'd never get holing up in Baekdokmun.
Peering into countless bodies revealed human anatomy's principles; testing poisons let him predict reactions in the flesh.
He'd advanced by leaps, but here, he was just the doctor.
Jang Ja-myeong counted days till his contract ended.
As he reached for the main gate—
Creeeak.
A glimpse through the cracked door revealed something strange.
Jang Ja-myeong slammed it shut and whirled.
Yi Mu-myeong, meeting his eyes, asked,
"What's wrong, Physician Jang?"
"The vibe's off. Someone's ambushing outside."
"An attack?"
Yi Mu-myeong squinted through the gap.
True to the words, a large group waited outside in formation.
He peered closer.
What the...?
Yi Mu-myeong tilted his head.
Plenty of them, but no weapons, dressed as common folk—not warriors.
Indistinguishable from lower village peasants.
Then familiar faces: the butcher from the market, slumped clerk from the cloth shop.
This made no sense.
Yi Mu-myeong glanced at Jang Ja-myeong.
"It's weird, Physician Jang."
"Sapa raiders?"
"No—the ambushers are villagers from below."
"Why would they mob here? Did Young Master Sa cause trouble...?"
"No way. Lord left yesterday."
"Could've stirred it up before bouncing."
"Hm, but we can't stay holed up. Let's go out."
"Heh, fine, but watch my back, escort."
"Promise."
Yi Mu-myeong nodded and opened the gate.
Creak.
Villagers turned as Cheonsu Manor's doors swung wide.
Yi Mu-myeong and Jang Ja-myeong walked through the piercing stares.
But the gazes were odd—curious at first, then abruptly averted.
Like spotting a stray dog.
One villager muttered,
"Nah, not them."
"Figured—no way they'd be back so soon."
"Still, gotta wait just in case."
Jang Ja-myeong couldn't parse it. Waiting for who?
Then a familiar face: the herbalist from the village, surnamed Cheon.
Jang Ja-myeong approached.
"Elder Cheon, what's all this?"
"Ah, Physician Jang."
"Yes, me. But seriously, what's the commotion?"
"Folks here are all waiting for treatment at Cheonsu Manor."
"Treatment...?"
Jang Ja-myeong trailed off.
A bad feeling stirred. If for treatment, they wanted him.
He scanned the crowd.
Not one looked healthy.
Some hunched with back pain, others dangled limp arms.
Pale faces teetered on death's edge.
One conclusion hit: his reputation had spread beyond Cheonsu Manor.
Made sense, really.
Treated patients mid-meal, at the outhouse door.
Monthly patients rivaled a normal doctor's lifetime.
Mangho Squad hailed him divine. Rumors were inevitable.
The herbalist spoke.
"Folks say you're the Divine Physician—spot on."
Snapping to, Jang Ja-myeong eyed him.
Deep respect shone in Cheon's gaze. Jang Ja-myeong shook his head humbly.
Never dreamed of fame as a healer before his poison rep.
Eyes misting briefly, he clasped hands deeply.
"Too kind. Divine Physician? I dare not."
"What're you saying?"
Cheon tilted his head; Jang Ja-myeong waved it off.
"The title's beyond me still."
Cheon's face hardened.
"Who says Physician Jang ain't divine?"
"Didn't you just...?"
Cheon continued as Jang Ja-myeong puzzled.
"Heh, what thunderbolt talk! I meant Hebei Paeng Family's Young Master Sa."
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