Chapter 161. Is This Really Cheondaemun?
Go Youngju sat down at the table across from him and spoke.
"I heard you caught the culprit but didn't get the antidote. So the deal still stands, right?"
It's not about the Sam-o-dan-sim-san antidote right now, Won Seung thought with a sigh. This time, he'd put real effort into his disguise. To pass as a sickly middle-aged man, he'd streaked his hair gray, clouded his clear eyes with drops to make them murky and yellowed, and soaked his hands and neck in a potion to wrinkle them like an old man's...
He asked in a grave tone.
"Go Chief Steward, how the hell did you know it was me? I'm seriously curious."
Go Youngju let out an "ah" and nodded in admiration.
"Impressive disguise work. Most people would fall for it."
"But you saw right through it. What gave it away? Is my technique that sloppy?"
Go Youngju stared at Won Seung for a moment, then held up a single finger.
"I'd love to snap that finger off. Wasn't it ten taels of silver?"
Go Youngju quickly bent his finger in half.
"Five taels?"
"I'm teaching you how to spot top-grade human skin masks. Five taels is a steal."
Won Seung tore the ten-tael silver note in half and placed it on the table.
"Give me a satisfying answer, and the other five are yours."
If Go Youngju had figured it out, the Jeokhyeolsan bastards might spot a human skin mask too. Cheap at ten taels to block that.
Go Youngju prodded the note with a finger, pulled it toward himself, and examined Won Seung from head to toe.
"It's excellent. But... for a frail middle-aged man, you have way too much thick hair. There's a potent hair-loss potion—makes it fall out like plucked chicken feathers, leaving it sparse and thin in seconds."
"Pass. Next!"
He couldn't go bald just for a disguise.
"Yellowing the teeth was good, but your molars are too healthy. A sick guy that age should've lost one or two."
Sigh. Can't pull teeth either.
"I can't believe you pegged me on something that minor."
As Won Seung eyed him suspiciously, Go Youngju continued.
"The clincher was your scent. Everyone has a unique body odor."
"You know my scent?"
Was this guy a pervert? A chill ran down his spine. Then a fleeting thought hit him.
"Did you secretly smear me with Thousand-Li Tracking Fragrance or something?"
"Of course not. My nose is just sensitive. They called me Dog Nose as a kid..."
Spotting people by scent? Yeah, that earned the Dog Nose moniker. But humans weren't dogs.
Was it true? Won Seung glared, and Go Youngju slyly averted his eyes.
Just then, the waiter from Jirashi brought the food. As he set down the meatball soup and steamed pork dumplings, a sheet of paper slipped from his pocket.
Won Seung and Go Youngju's gazes locked onto the drawing on the paper.
"!"
"...?"
A sickly middle-aged man... which was exactly Won Seung's current look.
"Oops."
The Jirashi waiter snatched the paper, crumpled it back into his pocket, and sauntered off like nothing happened.
Won Seung and Go Youngju's eyes met.
"..."
Go Youngju's face paled slightly, and Won Seung's brow furrowed.
The moment Won Seung saw the sketch, he knew what was up.
Haomen's Eastern Branch Chief, Jang Chunsam, had thrashed about in desperation to save his skin. He'd tracked down the old couple at the open-air tavern, grilled them on the sickly man's features, sketched it perfectly, and printed hundreds of copies to distribute to every Haomen scout in Hwangdo.
So this human skin mask is totally burned for all the Haomen guys in Hwangdo?
In other words, useless here.
Won Seung's glare turned fierce.
Treating me like a sucker?
"Go Chief Steward, I'm disappointed."
Go Youngju had already regained his composure and brazened it out.
"Misunderstanding. Dog Nose is spot-on."
"Our trust crumbles over a few taels? How can I even believe that Sam-o-dan-sim-san antidote is real now?"
As Won Seung yanked back the silver note, Go Youngju jabbed a finger to block it.
"I was just about to tell you the mask was already exposed. And... I planned to give you a top-grade one."
"...?"
Go Youngju pulled a thin envelope from his bosom.
"No one knows this mask except the maker. Not even me—I haven't seen it. I specially ordered it for you, Young Master Joo: a young man's version. No hair loss potion, no pulling teeth."
"Hmm..."
Could he trust this guy?
"It comes with an ID plaque and full backstory for the fake identity. Perfect disguise."
Suddenly, Won Seung wondered why Go Youngju was going so far out of his way. Coming here on purpose, promising Sam-o-dan-sim-san antidote, preparing a top-grade human skin mask and fake ID...
There was no such thing as a free lunch.
Won Seung eyed him suspiciously.
"You're wondering why I'm doing all this for you."
"..."
"What I want is a steady supply of Boheoldan. I know you're the maker, Young Master Joo."
This sharp guy... yeah, he might've figured it out.
"By the way... we've got a huge order for Boheoldan. A hundred pills. And if those hundred perform consistently, the next order'll be hundreds more."
A hundred? At ten taels each, that's a thousand taels. Hundreds more next?
Won Seung's eyes widened.
Hundreds would be thousands of taels...
Thousands of taels... enough for a house outside the walls. Hell, play it right, and he could buy inside.
Jackpot.
Won Seung cleared his throat and asked coolly.
"Who's ordering that much?"
"Trade secret."
Whatever. Didn't matter who ate them. Money was money.
Won Seung beamed inwardly but kept his face cold.
"I don't need the human skin mask."
Top-grade ones were worth a hundred taels, right? He'd make his own.
"No, you do. For some reason, you're constantly in danger, Young Master Joo. Mansan Geom experts storming in, Dang Clan trying to poison you. Switch to a fake identity. My retirement depends on your safety..."
Go Youngju pulled the remaining note toward himself and said,
"Top-grade human skin mask worth a hundred taels—for just ten. Sam-o-dan-sim-san antidote in two or three days, straight to you. That's another hundred taels. Pay me back with ten Boheoldan."
Top-grade mask for ten taels? Impossible to refuse. But something felt off.
Like he was dancing in the palm of Go Youngju's hand.
Won Seung asked weakly,
"Sam-o-dan-sim-san is a Dang Clan secret formula. Where the hell are you getting the antidote?"
"Trade secret."
Yeah, thought so. He was a sucker, swallowing whatever they fed him.
"This mask... you really haven't seen it?"
"I'm an honest man."
Sounded more like "honest con artist."
Sagahyeon lay just outside Hwangdo's south gate.
Won Seung headed to Uga Clinic. Now that he knew Cheondaemun sectmates were in Hwangdo, he couldn't keep putting off a meeting.
What would his sect uncles be like? Dokgoe Master hadn't said much about his fellow disciples. Made sense—after escaping the sect's destruction together, they'd scattered soon after. Not much to tell. Just that they were quite a bit older than him.
Dokgoe Master had a fearsome face and a notorious rep in the jianghu. But Won Seung knew the kindness beneath. Still, he'd had preconceptions about Cheondaemun folk—until meeting Gong I-gwan, which shifted them a bit.
Gong I-gwan was... well, a bit rigid doctor type. The kind who'd jump at the idea of using poison on people. Barely any sense of Cheondaemun identity. Made pretending to be sect leader in front of him awkward.
Decades in hiding... explains it.
Won Seung vowed to accept his sectmates graciously, even if they rubbed him wrong, and crossed the threshold into Uga Clinic.
The air was thick with the scent of boiling herbs, fitting for a clinic. A sizable one, too. Patient rooms to the left, a long building that looked like a pharmacy and exam hall to the right. A grand main hall ahead, with more structures behind.
"What do you want?"
A burly youth built like a wild boar eyed Won Seung. He wore white clinic robes, but they clashed hard.
"Here to see someone. Gong I-gwan around?"
The youth's eyebrow twitched up.
"How old are you, kid?"
Cheap punk... counting age like that? Was this a black dao clinic?
Won Seung's eyebrow twitched up too—when Hwang U-yun passed by and spotted him.
"Brother Joo!"
This stiff prick. Call me sect leader here. Master and disciple both...
The boar youth frowned at Hwang U-yun's words.
Hwang U-yun approached, bowed, and said,
"You finally made it. Grand Uncle Jang is here; we're chatting."
At Hwang U-yun's warm welcome, the boar eyed them both curiously.
"You know each other?"
"Haha, wouldn't know it. This is our Cheondaemun sect leader."
The boar's eyes bulged wide, brimming with doubt.
Oh ho... Boar Boy's a Cheondaemun disciple too.
But the boar scowled at Won Seung.
"Sect leader...? This kid?"
Slap!
Won Seung backhanded him on the spot, asserting sect leader dignity.
The boar flew a zhang before crashing down.
"You little shit. Calling the sect leader 'kid'? Wanna die?"
Won Seung matched cheapness with cheapness.
"Sect leader!"
Hwang U-yun gaped in shock, eyes wide with fear. He was always a bit timid. And he thought this young Cheondaemun leader was Sangyang's black dao boss. He'd seen Ogu treat him like the sky itself—after Won Seung saved her life personally.
"..."
To the flustered Hwang U-yun staring at the unconscious boar, Won Seung said,
"He'll live. You said chatting?"
"Ah! Yes. This way."
Won Seung followed Hwang U-yun to the rear garden.
A cozy garden with a spacious pavilion. Several people inside were deep in heated discussion.
At Hwang U-yun bringing Won Seung, curious glances turned—then Gong I-gwan shot to his feet.
"Sect Leader, you've arrived?"
Why the fuss?
Gong I-gwan wasn't the type to greet him so deferentially.
And he looked downright aggrieved.
All eyes in the pavilion fixed on Won Seung.
Two elderly men, six middle-aged around Gong I-gwan's age, and ones Hwang U-yun's age... wait, those kids were younger? Even two women Won Seung's age.
Is this Cheondaemun?
Dang Clan flashed in his mind, and a sigh escaped.
Up against them with this ragtag crew?
Master... this ain't it.