My Father Is an Incredibly Rich Man
Bun Yumyeong turned and left without even waiting for a reply. It was the action of someone who assumed obedience as a given.
"To think the Literary Martial Scholar could be so arrogant..."
Someone sighed. Yang Dae-hyeon and Jegal Seung-seon also fell silent, clearly displeased.
Won Seung snorted, staring after Bun Yumyeong.
"Inviting us chickens? What, is it a coop now?"
The group blinked in confusion before bursting into laughter. He had just likened Seongwangbu to a chicken coop.
Won Seung's quip lightened the mood. Yang Dae-hyeon opened his invitation, which read that they were summoned to Seongwangbu in three days at the hour of the hare.
Jegal Seung-seon read his own and spoke with evident irritation.
"How rude. He shows up in person but doesn't even ask if we want to go."
"He's Seong Wang's adopted son, so you could call him part of the imperial family. The opinions of commoners like us probably don't matter to him."
"Are you going?"
"......"
Yang Dae-hyeon hesitated, but Won Seung cut into their conversation.
"Brother Yang, he's acting all high and mighty, but since he came himself, Seong Wang must be backing it. He'll probably show up too, so it might be worth going just to see him."
Won Seung had no intention of going himself. He was subtly egging Yang Dae-hyeon on to scout out the lay of the land at Seongwangbu.
Yang Dae-hyeon nodded. Won Seung made a good point. With rumors of Seong Wang's treason quietly circulating, meeting the man in person could prove useful for gauging the future.
"We've been invited, so it would only be proper to attend."
The small gathering fizzled out after Bun Yumyeong's intrusion.
As the party dispersed, Won Seung rose too. He wanted to spend more time with Hwa Yeo-wol, but there were pressing matters he couldn't delay.
"You'll stay until the exhibition ends, right?"
Hwa Yeo-wol shook her head.
"I'll be here about ten days. Where are you staying?"
"Me? I've got a place in Samya County outside the east gate."
Won Seung felt a pang of regret that she would leave so soon.
"I promised Yang Yeon-seo we'd tour Huangdo today... Can I come to your house tomorrow?"
"Yeah. I'm crashing somewhere else for now... I'll come back."
It didn't seem wise for Hwa Yeo-wol and Im Cho-ye to cross paths.
Hwa Yeo-wol paused at Won Seung's words before asking,
"Why not go home?"
Here, "home" meant Won Mansion.
"Like I said before, there are circumstances."
"You sure have a lot of secrets. And you changed your name again? Joo Neung?"
"Yeah. Needed a new one for the inspector gig. Call me Joo Neung from now on."
"Of all names..."
Hearing "Joo Neung" brought back memories of the Three Talents Martial Exhibition for Hwa Yeo-wol. An old wound seemed to stir; she trailed off and shut her mouth.
Won Seung spoke up.
"When it's just us... you can call me Seung."
"......"
Hwa Yeo-wol nodded.
"Won Seung. I like that name."
Hearing his real name from her lips lifted Won Seung's spirits. It had been ages since anyone had said it right.
After parting with Hwa Yeo-wol, Won Seung returned to Ogu's quarters. The Cheondaemun disciples were still buried in their research on replicating the Daehwandan and hadn't even noticed his absence.
Won Seung opened the letter Hwa Yeo-wol had given him. Hwa Cheon-un's note said he was canceling the matter Won Seung had requested. It wasn't detailed, but it clearly meant withdrawing his intent to back Won Guksa.
Something must've changed.
The letter also contained a draft for one hundred thousand nyang.
"Father-in-law's a bit stingy."
Won Seung grumbled as he packed his things and headed to Jang Go On.
"Any progress on the research?"
"Embarrassing, but we haven't found a solid lead yet."
"No wonder it's called the world's greatest elixir. But since it's man-made, we'll crack it eventually."
With that, he handed over the draft for one hundred thousand nyang.
"What's this?"
"Please distribute it among the disciples as you see fit, Senior Uncle. And let me know anytime if you need more herbs."
A physician's life wasn't exactly prosperous. The world was full of patients, but most were poor folk who couldn't even pay for medicine. The wealthy lived in luxury and clean homes, so they fell ill far less often.
With the Cheondaemun disciples abandoning their livelihoods to hole up in Ogu's quarters for research, Won Seung now had to cover their food too.
Jang Go On's jaw dropped at the sight of the massive draft.
"Ah... I've been wondering. Where does the sect leader get all this money?"
"Well, I can't go into details, but my father is an incredibly rich man."
It wasn't money from that rich father, but it was still true.
"If there's progress on the Daehwandan, leave word at Sangyang Escort Agency outside the west gate."
"Got it."
Money... I need a lot more money.
I can't be an incompetent sect leader who can't even provide for his disciples.
Won Seung left Ogu's quarters and went to Manseong Ru. He wore the sick man's human skin mask again.
"Here. One hundred Boheoldan."
He handed the Boheoldan to Go Yeong-ju and received the antidote to Sam-o-dan-sim-san made to his secret formula.
"Ten doses cover the antidote cost... Here's ten percent advance on the remaining ninety."
This bastard.
Won Seung knew Go Yeong-ju had only given U Mun-bi twenty nyang in silver for the Sam-o-dan-sim-san antidote. He'd skimmed a whopping eighty nyang off the top. But he couldn't let on that he knew.
Go Yeong-ju counted out a draft for eighty nyang—his cut of ten percent—and ten nyang in silver.
"The rest in ten days."
"I like precise accounting."
Won Seung pocketed the money, left Manseong Ru, and headed to Sacheon Guest House.
On the way, in a secluded spot, he swapped to the top-grade human skin mask Go Yeong-ju had given him. Thin as a cicada's wing, it transformed him into an utterly ordinary young man.
At Sacheon Guest House, Won Seung double-checked the identity plaque and backstory for the mask's face.
The plaque identified him as Yu So-un from Sangyang, age twenty, from a fallen scholarly family. He'd lost his parents at fifteen, fallen into drink and women, squandered what little fortune remained, and sold his last house to come to Huangdo.
Go Yeong-ju definitely knows my history.
The identity reeked of Hao Men connections. She'd figured out who he was and tailored it perfectly. Won Seung wondered why she was being so generous. The Boheoldan was part of it, but not the whole story.
The kids are digging, so something'll turn up.
He'd tasked the Sam-sam-meng brats with investigating Huangdo's underworld and Hao Men.
Regardless, this gave him a face to approach Jeokhyeolsan. Faking an identity wasn't easy. Just a mask and plaque? That screamed amateur. An identity needed a believable backstory to avoid suspicion.
There were many ways to acquire one. Kill someone quietly, bury them, and steal it. Buy from a family after a sudden death. Or purchase from someone desperate to sell due to gambling debts or the like.
Acquiring an identity meant inheriting the original owner's baggage. Won Seung had gotten Joo Neung's and ended up poisoned with Sam-o-dan-sim-san.
This one's perfect.
The original owner had lost his parents, lived dissolutely on wine and women, sold his house, and left home. Dig into it, and that's all you'd find.
Won Seung admired himself in the mirror, stroking the mask's cheek. It felt perfectly natural. There were various mask-making methods, but this one was clearly molded directly from his face. Even the fine details blended seamlessly.
Then let's embellish the backstory a bit more.
The prodigal sold everything, repented deeply, and came to Huangdo. Before buckling down to study, he was sightseeing and gauging the scholarly vibe.
But... Yu So-un was about to commission a hit. For that, he'd need a deep grudge and the cash to pay for it. A stranger like Yu So-un in Huangdo wouldn't have that.
"If there isn't one, make one."
Wearing Yu So-un's face, Won Seung headed to the west gate red-light district. The backstory included whoring away his fortune, so old habits die hard—he'd fallen back into drink. As he poked around the taverns, some familiar faces caught his eye.
Oh ho... those guys.
The Paeinbang thugs who'd sold him the Baekmok from Central Plains Revival when he first arrived in Huangdo. After the deal, he'd bashed the tails following him... and now they were boozing it up. This was a low-end pleasure quarter, with courtesans plastered to their sides, fawning.
Won Seung bought a cup of cheap liquor from a street vendor, took a swig, tilted his head back, and blew a misty whoosh into the air. The booze sprayed down like fog over his face. The vendor stared; Won Seung said,
"Heard of the Cloud Mist Liquor Method? This is how you enter the drunken world without getting drunk."
He turned from the dazed vendor and staggered off, looking every bit the real drunk.
The vendor tried it himself—swig, tilt, blow. Pffft. Cold booze drenched his face. He wiped it with a rag, cursing.
"What a crazy fucker."
Won Seung, reeking of booze, stumbled into a tavern and plopped down behind the Paeinbang crew. He slammed his money pouch on the table and bellowed at a server,
"Booze! And women!"
The kid saw the fat pouch and hustled. Drinks and food appeared in a flash. Then a heavily powdered woman approached, wafting cheap perfume.
Won Seung eyed her, fished out a silver chip from the pouch, and flicked it away.
"You're ugly. Beat it. No one else? Bring 'em all."
His brash shout drew eyes. The Paeinbang thugs' gazes flicked between him and the pouch.
More girls came; Won Seung shook his head.
"Nah, nothing to my taste. Wrong place."
He chugged his drink, ignored the food, tossed down two nyang in silver, and stood. Staggering, he scooped the pouch into his bosom and lurched out.
No need to pick a fight—they swarmed like flies to rotten fish. As Won Seung weaved toward the next tavern, two closed in, grabbing his shoulders like they were helping.
"Huh?"
"Shut up and come quietly."
One pressed a dagger to his waist.
"Gah!"
Won Seung trembled in feigned terror.
"You little shit... so scared. Be good and follow, and maybe you live."
They dragged him to a dark alley. A hulking brute waited.
"Wh-what's this? Money... take all the money."
Won Seung offered the pouch willingly. The thugs roared with laughter.
"Little brother, you're a riot. But see..."
One rifled Won Seung's waist and slid out the identity plaque.
"Yu So-un, eh? Not from around here. Where you staying?"
"Sacheon Guest House..."
"Looks like you've got cash to burn."
"This is everything."
Thwack!
One punched Won Seung square in the gut.
"You little shit... not telling the truth."
"Urgh..."