The Wasp Escape Incident
This time, his voice was louder, drawing the attention of all the scholars. Their faces were flushed from the alcohol, heated and lively.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"What do you mean, what am I doing? Junior Sister Hwa? What exactly did I do?"
Jong Wonbo blinked in confusion, and Hwa Yeo-wol pointed at the guard.
"What's with that scuffle going on over there?"
Turning to look at his guard and Won Seung, Jong Wonbo swayed his head as if drunk and asked,
"Jeon Guard, what's going on?"
"This punk bumped into me out of nowhere and didn't even apologize. I was thinking of dragging him out for a beating."
"Hmm. I see."
Still swaying, Jong Wonbo grinned slyly at Hwa Yeo-wol.
"Looks like it's between the two of them. Why are you stepping in, Junior Sister? Even if he's your guard, I can't meddle in personal matters like this."
Hwa Yeo-wol hadn't expected him to respond like that and was momentarily speechless.
As all eyes turned to Hwa Yeo-wol and Jong Wonbo, Won Seung tapped the shin of the guard holding him with his right foot.
"Ack!"
Pain shot through the guard's bone like a strike. He reflexively released his grip on Won Seung's collar and bent at the waist, only for Won Seung to grab both his ears, yank them hard, and vomit.
-Splurt!
Alcohol and undigested food spewed onto the guard's face.
The guard instinctively tried to turn away, but Won Seung's grip was too strong. He couldn't budge, and his face was completely covered in the mess.
He'd eaten a lot. Half-digested chunks of meat and vegetables in thick vomit blanketed the guard's features.
"Ughhh…."
By the time Hwa Yeo-wol and the scholars looked over, he was unrecognizable.
"Ah, damn, what a waste of good food."
Won Seung pressed his thumbs firmly into the spots behind the guard's ears, then released. The guard's strength drained from his body, and he collapsed to his knees with a thud.
"Whoa, sorry about that."
Pretending to scratch his head, Won Seung pulled out three hidden needles from behind his ear, slipped them onto his fingers, and supported the guard.
"Hey, snap out of it. Get up. Can't pass out just from a little puke, right?"
In his dazed state from the pressure points, the guard felt a sharp prick at the nape of his neck. His breath caught, and excruciating pain exploded through him like his mind was flying apart. His mouth gaped open.
"Gah, urk."
Won Seung suddenly swiped at the air.
"Whoa! Wasp! Wasp! Watch out!"
The guard toppled sideways, unable to speak, writhing and gasping. In an instant, his nape swelled grotesquely.
"What did you do?"
Jong Wonbo jumped up and rushed over, and the guards waiting downstairs came swarming up as well, sensing trouble.
"This is awkward."
Won Seung scratched his head again, tucking the three needles back behind his ear. Hwa Yeo-wol hurried over in shock and asked,
"What happened?"
"Guess I drank too much rice wine. My stomach was churning. Then this guy grabs my collar outta nowhere. Had to puke. Is rice wine really made with honey? 'Cause a wasp showed up right after."
It was a lame excuse.
"Gasp, gasp!"
The guard's throat was so swollen he couldn't speak, barely breathing.
"Hurry, get him to a physician!"
At Jong Wonbo's command, his fellow guards hoisted him up and rushed downstairs.
Won Seung yelled after them,
"I saw it—it was a huge wasp! Tell the doc!"
Jong Wonbo didn't know what trick Won Seung had pulled, but he couldn't believe a martial artist like Jeon Guard would collapse from a wasp sting.
He glared, rolling up his sleeves.
"You dare harm someone from the Jong family?"
Just then, Won Seung pointed at the puke spot.
"Not me. I just puked. Look—there's the wasp."
Sure enough, a few bees were buzzing around. It was peak flower season, so they'd probably flown in through the open window.
"Did the honey scent from the rice wine really attract them?"
Hwa Yeo-wol marveled at the bees, but Jong Wonbo shouted,
"Those are honeybees! Where's the wasp?!"
"Obviously. It stung a big shot from the Jong family—had to hightail it to survive. Probably ten miles away by now."
Won Seung played innocent, and one of the gathered scholars burst out laughing. The others joined in, roaring with amusement. Already buzzed from booze, Won Seung's ridiculous line cracked them up.
"Hahaha! Little brother, that's hilarious. A wasp on the run? Ahahaha! Oh man, my sides!"
One clutched his stomach, laughing till he wheezed. With the mood like this, Jong Wonbo's face burned even redder.
"You—!"
He clenched his fists, helpless. He couldn't start a brawl and lose face as a Serim Academy disciple.
Then someone beside him stepped in, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Wonbo, let it go. No need to get involved in underlings' squabbles."
Turning to Won Seung, he said,
"I'm Yang Dae-hyeon. You seem like a scholar yourself—care to join us? We can clear up any misunderstandings."
Won Seung eyed Yang Dae-hyeon. His gaze was bright and honest, no malice. But with Jong Wonbo glaring daggers nearby, he had no interest.
"Nah, thanks anyway. Turns out I'm a lightweight—first time realizing it. Might puke again. Stomach's still bubbling. Then another wasp might show up and sting Senior Jong's ass next."
He pulled a money pouch from his bosom, rummaging with a clink before producing a single silver tael.
"Give this to Jeon Guard. Didn't mean to put him through hell—least I can do is compensate."
Jong Wonbo ground his teeth, staring at the silver. The Jong family were local tyrants of Sangyang, filthy rich. A single tael was pocket change.
"You... insulting me on purpose? You think the Jong family is worth just one lousy tael?!"
"What? Lousy? This is big money to me. After this, I'll be starving tomorrow."
Won Seung shook his slim pouch, gazing wistfully at the tael in his palm.
Yang Dae-hyeon laughed heartily.
"Spending a few taels is easy for the rich. But handing one over when you're broke? Not just anyone can do that. You're a man of principle, little brother."
"If you don't want it, I'll pocket it."
Jong Wonbo snatched it with a swipe.
"I'll gladly pass it on."
"Mm…."
Won Seung smacked his lips regretfully, then staggered up to the third floor.
The next day.
Won Seung left Unhwa House early in the morning. His funds were tight—he could only afford the pricey inn for one more day. He needed to scout Cheongsu Gate ASAP.
Having to hustle for work at dawn over money left a bitter taste.
Pathetic.
No cash even for poison ingredients, reduced to catching wasps, snakes, or centipedes for venom.
He looked like a young master from a great house, but really, he had just two taels of silver and a few coppers—a beggar at heart.
Lamenting his lot, Won Seung headed south toward Cheongsu Gate in Sangyang.
Soon, he reached the wide gate fronted by a spacious plaza lined with teahouses, taverns, and eateries.
Won Seung sat at an outdoor table, ordered noodles, and sifted through his memories.
-Cheongsu Gate. Lord Hwa Cheon-baek. About a hundred members. Branch of Geom Yak Jong, one of the four sword sects; local powerhouse controlling south Sangyang... Assassination target: Hwa Cheon-gang. Second brother of the three, top expert...
Target Hwa Cheon-gang was Hwa Cheon-baek's younger brother, ranked among the central plains' top hundred experts. The lord himself matched that level. And third brother Hwa Cheon-un was no pushover either.
Hwa Cheon-baek, Hwa Cheon-gang, Hwa Cheon-un... Three brothers all top hundred caliber or better. Mission worthy of first-class. No—needs a special assassin.
His head throbbed. Impossible with his current skills.
Pondering how to approach the hit, someone sat across from him.
"Staring so openly will make them suspect bad intentions."
The man, late twenties, wore brown robes over a sturdy build. His frank face exuded manliness.
"What're you thinking, scoping out Cheongsu Gate?"
"Thinking? Nothing like that. Just people-watching—the traffic's heavy."
The man blinked, caught off-guard by Won Seung's casual retort. He raised a hand high, calling the waiter.
"Noodles, one bowl."
Won Seung's eyes flicked to the long sword propped against the table. Intimidating just to look at.
Of course, Won Seung felt no threat. If the guy tried anything, he'd poison the noodles.
"Didn't anyone tell you to watch your mouth in the jianghu?"
The man showed no hostility, advising like he cared.
But Won Seung, wallowing in his sorry state, took it wrong.
"Mm. Heard that. Got one yapping away right in front of me. Why act all buddy-buddy?"
"What? Buddy-buddy?"
"I'm broke. Can barely pay for these noodles. No free lunch."
"Cough!"
The man, sipping his just-arrived tea, choked on Won Seung's words and hacked.
"You think I'd stick you with the bill?"
"Then whatever."
"Curious why you were watching me, little brother."
Won Seung had glimpsed the man handing a red envelope to the gate guard earlier. He'd noticed Won Seung staring intently and approached.
Won Seung glanced around casually.
"Caught your eye while looking around. That red envelope stood out. A challenge letter? Someone challenging Cheongsu Gate—surprised me for a sec. That's it. That a problem?"
His noodles arrived.
Won Seung twirled a strand with chopsticks and slurped it down.
The man's arrived next.
"Problem... yeah, could be."
The man inhaled his noodles like soup in a flash and stood. Won Seung had barely eaten half—guy was fast.
"Watch your mouth. A loose tongue invites ten thousand troubles."
Was it a warning or advice? He left an ambiguous parting shot and vanished.
World's full of weirdos. Hang a glare and he picks a fight.
Won Seung resumed eating, savoring every bite—noodles were precious.
Moments later, five armed men hurried out of Cheongsu Gate, swords at their sides. They scanned sharply like hawks, then questioned the gate guard.
The guard pointed toward Won Seung's table.
The warriors swarmed over. The leader demanded,
"Where's your group?"